#ive literally never not been more not okay than i have been this year. & i continuously get more brutalized no matter what.

[the-sussy-imposter2]

I thought Will would like messing with louise sometimes. Louise doesnt seem to like his sense of humor, though.

(Characters are will and louise from @peachnewt 's story, getting in deep !!)

[wonder-worker]

Is it true that Elizabeth of York birth celebrated like she was a son? I have seen some historians say this.

Hi! Yes, Edward IV did celebrate his daughter’s birth as though she was a male heir (“a prince”).

While we have no contemporary reports at the time of Elizabeth of York's birth, we know that Luchino Dallaghiexia reported that the birth of Edward and Elizabeth's third child, Cecily of York, "rejoiced the king and all the nobles exceedingly*, though they would have preferred a son'. Wanting a son (ie: an heir) was typical for their time period, likely enhanced by Edward and Elizabeth's unprecedentedly controversial marriage, her very unsuitable origins and his own status as a usurper. The fact that he was described as being "exceedingly" delighted at the birth of his third daughter in a row regardless does support the claim that he would have gone over-the-top to celebrate the birth of his first legitimate** child.

Hope this helps!

*Bizarrely, I have seen several historians and blogs using Dallaghiexia's letter to claim that he was bitterly disappointed at Cecily of York's birth. I don't understand how historical reading comprehension can be so poor that "rejoiced the king exceedingly" has somehow been rewritten as the...exact opposite of that. With no self-awareness whatsoever. **His illegitimate daughter Margaret (known as Elizabeth for some reason) was almost definitely born before his marriage. We don't know the birth dates of his other two illegitimate children: I think the likeliest conception date for Arthur was in early 1470, but it's unverified; and we know nothing about Grace (which was in fact her surname, not her name) other than the fact that Elizabeth Woodville seems to have been very attached to her.

[hecksupremechips]

Actually cry so goddamn hard when I think about Shinjiro Aragaki healing and being loved and having to learn to be okay with himself and being taken care of

[flamestar126]

Dentist/teeth venting lol

[starboundsingularities]

good lird they did not make a gimmick blog about a real life murder

#someone fucking DIED but whatever who gives a shit it's funny i guess

7 notes

🥚 eggvidenced Follow

honestly with how suspicious and confusing everything on the dl-6 case was i wouldn't be surprised if it came out that it was that prosecutor guy tbh

🌟 rockliker270 Follow

date posted: june 23, 2010

1,834,853 notes

⚖️ courtofpublicopinions Follow

🌟 rockliker270 Follow

ok hear me out. what abt winston payne though

🧊 just--ice Follow

okay now they're just making lawyers up

#also didn't mvk die or something?

28,932 notes

🔥 triedbyfire Follow

why the fuck are you people still posting about the gavinners as if theyre not copaganda. didn't the guitarist get convicted of murder

🎸 guiltiest-lovers837 Follow

so fucking tired of this "um um didn't daryan get convicted of murder" YEAH AND HE'S LITERALLY NOT IN THE FUCKING BAND ANYMORE. dipshit

🔥 triedbyfire Follow

are you gonna address the copaganda thing or

1,092 notes

🌻 attorneybout Follow

he's so. 😳

📂 trialanderror Follow

why is he defending

📂 trialanderror Follow

OP WHY IS HE DEFENDING???

24,374 notes

🦈 giantlakemonsters Follow

i just wanna hear about another gourdy sighting thats all

🥜 liberdeez Follow

op. i'm so sorry op. gourdy isn't real you have to let her go. they had a whole trial about it.

🔐 wrightorwrong Follow

hi!! so this isn't actually the case as while gourdy was briefly mentioned in a trial, said trial had nothing to do with whether or not gourdy was "real" per se as much as. well. murder, actually. while gourdy WAS found out to be an inflatable steel samurai this was not brought up in the case at all as the veracity of gourdy wasn't really as relevant as the fact that the witness was looking for gourdy rather than at the murder she claimed to have seen. plus this was also a relatively small part of a MUCH larger trial which for those interested not only solved the dl-6 case but ALSO marked the end of prosecutor von karma's ~40 year long record and the court records are really a fascinating read through!!

🦀 mad_libz_87 Follow

net 0 information post

#thanks again lawblr

94,834 notes

🍒 cherriescoola Follow

btw i was at the park the other day and klavier gavin (of gavinners fame) was there and obv there was a huge crowd but this guy was there with him and at some point he (the other guy) waved to the crowd and someone still screamed like it was klavier??? who was that guy ive never seen him before in my life

2,284 notes

🩸 has-dl6-been-solved-yet Follow

December 28, 2016

YES!!!

702,947 notes

🪙 tellerlikeitis Follow

guys help i'm a bank teller and this guy just introduced himself as robin banks what do i do

🔪 violencekilling Follow

you gotta let him rob you that's the law

302,948 notes

👻 ghostesswiththemostest Follow

look if i ever get convicted of murder im just hiring the lawyer with the coolest sounding name

💼 courtofwaw Follow

bestie if you already got convicted it is Too Late

62,193 notes

📋 lawandwhoreder Follow

guys i know it's real fun to think people just can predict whatever but if you look at the earliest reblogs of that post that "guessed" the true killer in the dl-6 case it was actually a post about how they didn't want to go to the store. clearly edited

#stg nobody bothers to factcheck anything anymore

7,293 notes

🐺 lawnewolf Follow

i am NOT homophobic or whatever the fuck you guys are saying now i just think its weird to write fanfiction about realass people?? go touch grass ffs

🌈 lawsbian Follow

the fun police (this guy) putting me in yaoi court but the lawyers (phoenix witrght and miles edgeworth) just keep trying to make out (real court is like this too btw)

🐺 lawnewolf Follow

YOU HAVE SOMETHING WRONG WITH YOU.

#look idc what your enemies to lovers fic bullshit says #they're straight. and more importantly REAL PEOPLE. #there's TENSION because they are in COURT and there are LIVES on the LINE. #not because they wanna fuck. god.

12,293 notes

🔮 inhighspirits Follow

why dont they just ask the spirit mediums to ask the victims who killed them this law shit is easy

837,495 notes

💞 lawveyourself Follow

seriously i cant believe they gave this guy a law degree

💞 lawveyourself Follow

what do you mean evidence fraud

503,893 notes

🎧 instrumentalillness Follow

fuck you *unguilties your love*

384,568 notes

🎀 copiicat Follow

perjury isnt illegal btw in fact if youre one of tge witnesses youre legally required to lie on the stand. thats why everyone does it. trust me

[iwantscarlettandlizzie]

Mama?

summary: when soleil is scared at night but wanda isn’t home, does she go to natasha for help, or does she struggle on her own?

words: 605

warnings: nothing this time, all fluff🌼

Soleil’s pov

It was the middle of the night and I woke up with a gasp. Nightmares aren’t uncommon for me.

The thing is, I’m lucky enough to have a magic mommy, literally, she can feel when I’m uneasy and always comes to my rescue. Unfortunately she’s not here tonight, she was needed for some mission somewhere and so isn’t home.

It’s weird because Natasha is home, and technically she’s a part of my relationship too but it’s never really felt like it.

Natasha and Wanda have been together for a few years now, and I know I was invited to join them as a way for Wanda to feel some control. But it almost feels like Natasha and Wanda are together, and me and Wanda; not all of us.

I’m startled by a knock on my door, i almost get excited thinking my mommy is home and is coming to comfort me. I see Nat’s head pop in the gap, to peek in. “Wanda messaged me, wanted me to check in on you,” she mumbles as she waltzes in and sits on the edge of my bed.

I shuffle up and sit against the headboard, cuddling a pillow in my arms, “I’m okay.”

She gives a little nod, “How come you’re not sleeping?”

I say nothing but give her a shrug.

“You need sleep, it’s important for you to recharge for the next day, you should be sleeping.”

“Oh I was, i was.”

“Well why aren’t you anymore?”

I rub my eyes and yawn while I say, “Woke up.”

She gives me an eye roll, “You should close those eyes and go back to sleep.”

I see her shift a little, like she's about to stand up. Despite not being that close I can’t help the panic that overcomes me as i think about being left alone again.

“Wait.. i cant.”

“You can’t what?”

“Sleep.”

“How come?”

“Just just it was bad.”

“Hm did you have a bad dream?”

I sniffle and nod as my eyes glaze over.

“Oh Soleil, what do you need?”

I whine a little “i need mommy, i miss her.”

I see Nat soften even more, “I miss her too, a lot. I know I’m not her, but I’m here. If I can help you, i want to.”

My eyebrows scrunch together in confusion, “Really?”

“Really. I know we’ve maybe navigated this relationship as a whole a little weirdly. You wanted someone to take control, and Wanda wanted to be in charge- you have that together. I know you and I don’t necessarily have a dynamic, but we’re just as much together as Wanda and I, or Wanda and you.”

I nod, “i wasn’t sure if you wanted to be involved with me.”

“I can see why baby, I’m sorry. We’re going to be better at communicating from now on.”

“So you do want to be with me, too?”

“I do sunshine, it takes me longer than Wanda to get comfortable with someone. I’m sorry i made it seem like otherwise.”

My eyes are droopy as I’m still exhausted, and Nat’s presence brings a certain comfort to me.

“Mm natty?”

She chuckles a little, “Yes soleil?”

I reach my arms out and mumble, “cuddles?”

“Of course, come here.”

She cuddles me into her chest as she makes us both lay down. Keeping me close, she mumbles her apologies for not showing her love for me before today.

I hear a hushed “Ive got you, little one” mumbled against my forehead, before I drift off into a peaceful sleep again.

[shattersstar]

bound

pairing: vampire x reader

summary: He supposed this was his true home, not the house he had kept himself locked in, but the wooden box with your picture in it. Dutifully kept under his pillow, bringing you to the land of dreams with him—if he could dream. It was a bitter punishment for the life he lived, the transgression—sin—he supposed would be held against the two of you. For how he wanted you more than anything, how he would tear whole cities to shreds at your behest and let the hunters who lurked in your town meet his fangs if you so desired. It was gluttony, to take eternal life and still want more.

warning: horror-ish elements, blood mention., religious undertones (aka general vampire themes/concepts)

a/n: i have so much to say about this lil piece of writing omg okay, i wrote this back in May i believe around the time i was reading we have always lived in the castle and it Shows. its lowkey fantasy which is not like anything i write but the horror-ish vibes r pretty consistent with my original stuff. it is heavily inspired by a lot of the vampire media ive consumed too though even if its not based on one particular character. i have been thinking about it since i wrote it and while im a bit ehhh about posting something original i quite literally have nothing else to share and as i said before y’all keeping i’d still eat the fruit in my notifs is so :)))) so this is a thank you to y’all and a Step back into writing for me hopefully. ramble aside enjoy ! feedback and comments r always appreciated

—

It had rained, no—poured, stormed, hailed, cried, screamed. It had swept in during the day, white noise to him as he slept, while it greeted you during breakfast. The clouds wept over the lands in what felt like divine punishment. It was as if nature or something higher than that was against him, accosting or trying to stop him. As he stood at the edge of the great forest, rain pelting the top of his head he assumed there was nothing greater than nature. Not even him. There was nothing higher nor more humbling. God could spite someone, but nature enacted it. It flooded your sleepy town and even sleepier forest and he was on the other side. Confined to his home until the storm cleared and the sun rose.

He would not be graced with your presence yet again and he tried to ignore the call to change you, to have his fangs pierce your skin and his blood run across your tongue. He gritted his teeth, reminding himself of the hurt it brought and he would never cause that for his love. His dearest who lived on the other side of the forest he was unable to cross. His icy glare moved along the border, not even noticing the rain drenching his billowing black cloak anymore. Somewhere in the forest a branch snapped and animals chattered.

He would live for eternity, he could wait for you. It was his resolution before heading back to his home in the woods and trying not to be angry, to let fury run through his long dead veins and restart his stilled heart. If anything—anyone—could, he knew it was you.

He followed the path compacted over the years of those travelling to stare at his home, humans daring each other to go near it, but never following through when the windows shuddered and a figure moved past one of them like a ghost. Times had changed, but people were as superstitious as ever. They saw his decayed and rotted home and prescribed evil to it. It was overrun with vines, leaves would not grow on them. Even in spring. They stayed black, and gnarled, tightening their hold in his house each season. Thorns protruding from some of the thicker vines, protecting him it seemed. You had noted that, staring at his wondrous home with bright eyes.

It was in a clearing in the forest, grey stone withered away and swallowed by nature. It still stood strong, the outside a grotesque picture that did not reflect the inside. Oil lamps and lighting fixtures alike lit the space from the inside out. It warmed the walls, revealing the deep brown wood panelling that made up the older parts of the house. The stairs were still the original wood, a grand staircase that greeted no one, but him and you these days.

Many of the rooms upstairs had been closed off, sheets gently placed over the old furniture and doors closed forever. He had no need for such space, other vampires stopped visiting when hunters started lingering in your town. You had told him of your many encounters, most were smart enough to stay out the forest, but they still killed many of his kind. Finding them in their carriages amongst the cars rolling down the freshly paved roads. Horses killed along with whoever dwelled inside. They saw themselves as vigilantes, but you had told him most of your town considered them a nuisance. Urban men thinking they can save the more rural lands that bordered their great cities. Cities that forgot the magic that once thrived in places like the forest.

“Their thinking of building a highway through it, connecting us to other towns or one of the bigger cities.” You had explained one day, sitting in his lap and letting him hold you. He hummed, long fingers curling into the fabric of your sweater. You placed your warm hand over his and leaned further into his chest. He asked you to let him hold you and you had obliged like always.

He kept those memories in mind, the soft questions he would extend your way and how you listened so dutifully. May I hold you? Will you lay with me? Come walk through the cellar? Can I drink your—

His fist slammed against his dinning room table, nearly snapping it in two as a crack ran jagged through the centre of the chestnut coloured wood. His fangs were out, nails morphed into claws dug into his skin and blood dripped into the crack. He stared at it, muscles in his face twitching as he waited for it to end. Waited for the creature in him to return to laying dormant and his own clear, sound mind to return. Though he supposed it was never very clear or sound anymore, not when you had burrowed inside of him and promised to never leave. And as if his thoughts beckoned you themselves, the old telephone in his study rang. It’s shrill scream echoed through the quiet house, though the ring was discordant, snapping in two halfway through its loop and screeching a pitch higher. The noise made his pointed ears twitch and with a swoop of his cloak he was in his study. He answered it on the normal ring, cutting it off right before it went off tone.

He held the phone to his ear, but waited to speak. “Hello?” You asked, your voice soft and worried. You’d never called him before—truthfully he had no idea this phone even worked.

“Hello my love.” He returned, and you breathed out a happy sigh.

“Oh my god, hi! I found this number in some old directory—phone book thing,” You explained with an airy giddiness that he wished to share, “I wasn’t sure if it was going to work, but…” You trailed off and he was smiling fondly into the receiver.

“I have missed you.”

“I miss you too, I hate this weather I can never get through the forest when its so rainy.”

“I know.”

“Maybe they should build a highway through it, I could hitchhike my way to see you.” You laughed, but he turned somber. Industrialization finally touching the sacred land of the forest didn’t sit right within him. It may be the great divider that kept him away from you, but it was his home. A highway felt like you were asking to be swept away, to a new town or bigger city that he could not adventure too. He could ask you to stay—he knew you’d oblige—but it was not his place to keep you here. “Is your phone one of those spin, dial ones?” You asked suddenly, breaking through the tension he hadn’t meant to create.

“A rotary phone?” He corrected with a ghost of a grin, “Yes it is.”

“I want to see it when I come over again.”

“And so you will.” It was quiet again and he hadn’t noticed the tears running down his face. He didn’t know he was able to cry anymore.

“I love you.” You whispered, holding your cellphone close, likely curled up in bed and staring out your window at the rain and the forest beyond it.

“I love you dearest.” His voice did not betray the sadness building in him. “Sleep beloved, I will see you soon.”

“Yes, I’m gonna come see you and your rotary phone.” You laughed, forced and watery.

“Soon.”

“Soon.” You repeated, and hung up. He kept the black phone, laced with intricate gold details, to his ear for a moment longer. He had heard your voice at least and could sleep. He moved through his home, snuffing out candles and flicking off switches before finding the one room without windows. A coffin laid on the floor, dark brown and glistening with the finish that had been applied centuries ago.

He supposed this was his true home, not the house he had kept himself locked in, but the wooden box with your picture in it. Dutifully kept under his pillow, bringing you to the land of dreams with him—if he could dream. It was a bitter punishment for the life he lived, the transgression—sin—he supposed would be held against the two of you. For how he wanted you more than anything, how he would tear whole cities to shreds at your behest and let the hunters who lurked in your town meet his fangs if you so desired.

It was gluttony, to take eternal life and still want more.

Though it was hard to think of such evil things when looking at your face, he had taken the photo while you were on the roof. Wind had wiped your clothes into a frenzy and you laughed as the night sky twinkled behind you. He had taken it and was surprised when you’d given it to him only a few days later. He had kept up with modern technology as well as he could, but there was always something so magical about photographs to him. He collected hundreds over his life time, faces he knew and others he didn’t. Organized neatly into a collection of books, which he’d let you look through on occasion. He showed you photos from the many lives he’s lived, something about them bringing warmth rushing to your face.

He was always so devastatingly beautiful, regal and hypnotic across all eras. Yet, he couldn’t focus on the kind words that bubbled from your lips as the rushing of the blood under your skin nearly shattered something inside of him. His fangs threatened to meet your skin, but with calculated focus he reigned in his hunger. It was hard at first—you were the only human he had been around in decades—but he did it for love.

Everything he did was for love, it was his reason for existence it seemed. You had other reasons for your claim to life, but to him? You were all he had, the only reason to not let the sun engulf him or let a hunter kill him. He could not break your heart until you broke his. He let that thought dwell in his mind as sleep overtook him just as the sun rose and the rain ended. Its incessant pitter patter had ceased and he somehow dreamt of you standing golden in the forest and beckoning him closer.

He woke up to your face—maybe it wasn’t a dream—as you crouched next to his coffin. Maybe he had finally died and you were welcoming him to where God decided to send him. If you were there it couldn’t be hell. Could it be?

“My love—“ Your hand pressed to his chest, keeping him still. “It’s still daytime, sleep okay?” You whispered, hand moving to his jaw and cradling his face in your palm for a moment. “I’ll be back in a sec okay, I just need to change.” He nodded against you, kissing your hand before you let him reside in darkness. He had caught a glimpse of your pants caked in mud and could smell the blood from your skinned palms. Despite the slick terrain it seemed you ventured through the forest to see him. It made his chest shudder and for a moment he thought you had actually restarted his heart.

It was only a few minutes later when you were carefully opening his coffin again, now dawning a loose fitting silk shirt that made his red eyes alight with something wild. You had cleaned your scrapes and mud off your skin, smelling faintly of rain water and the lavender soap you gifted him. You stepped over him, nestling against his side and letting him enclose the two of you. One of his arms wrapped around your shoulders as your head rested on his chest, knuckles grazing over your hair while you stretched an arm across his torso. Your legs intertwined with his long ones and you let out a breathy sigh.

“Are you hurt?” He asked, and while you likely couldn’t see as thing, he could see you perfectly. You shook your head no against his chest, yawning into the fabric of his shirt.

“I just wanted to see you.” You murmured, chin resting in his chest as you made hit best attempt at eye contact in the blackness. “I saw the dining room table, are you okay?” You asked, somehow staring through him in the darkness. He offered his hand instead of finding the words in his throat, slowly unravelling his fist to reveal a mark free palm. He wasn’t sure you understand what he meant or if your eyes adjusted enough yet, until you carefully closed it once again, kissing his knuckles and placed your hand over his. You both were silent for a moment, until you looked up at him again and breathed, “You’re all I want.”

“And you’re all I have.” He held you closer, watching a grin pull at the corner of your lips. He was sure it was that devotion, obsession even, with you that would bring about his downfall. Centuries old and all powerful, but reduced to nothing without you. His strength and knowledge meant nothing if he didn’t have you to share it with.

And you could not stand your stagnant life in a town full of people who wished his kind dead. You chose a trek through the forest during the twilight hours of the morning to see him, bringing him soft kisses and silk under his hands as you let your mouth meet his. You kissed him with all the exhaustion and lethargy wrapped up in the two of you, molasses slow kisses that were just as sweet. It was how you fell asleep, lips to his neck and head tucked under his chin before your warm breathed puffed across his pale skin. He fell asleep not long after, engulfing you in his embrace, his cloak draping over your frame as he decided home was where you asked him to be.

[chaotic-fandom-writer]

Adam x Reader P.1 (Hazbin Hotel)

Warnings: Heavy cursing, violence, adult themes

Chapters

I - II - III - IV - V - VI - VII

Extermination day was never easy, nor fun. But you fought nonetheless. You would do anything to keep your friends and the hotel from being exterminated.

Today was a harder one than usual. You noticed they seemed to be sending more and more angels down every year, making it nearly impossible to hold your ground anymore. Maybe it was your hood and mask, or maybe it was all the attacks, but you were out of breath quicker than usual, too.

You were doing okay, until an angel came from behind, knocking one of your daggers out of your hand. Mind spinning, already nearing exhaustion, you turned and ran as fast as you could, fully aware the angel was gaining on you quickly.

You turned a sharp corner and dropped into the cellar doors of one of the shops nearby. You could hear the angel go past, holding your breath and waiting extra long, just to be safe.

After you finally catch your breath, you ran outside, ready to fight again, only to see a brilliant burst of light come crashing down on you. You barely managed to jump away, looking up for the source.

Horrified, you realize where it came from - Adam, the leader of the angels.

Of course he's the one who happens to find me.

You mentally curse your own luck before jumping again, avoiding more of his strikes. "What's with the fucking mask? You some kind of bimbo robinhood bitch?"

"What the fuck does that even mean?" You laugh, not even sure how to process the insult.

"Fuck you! That's what it means!" And more strikes. You jump again, seemingly irritating your attacker.

"Hold still, bitch!"

You laugh, and run into a nearby shopping center, running up the stairs to the second floor and hiding in a shop.

You had no weapons, aside from one small dagger, and honestly, that didn't look like it could do much against the literal leader of the angels.

"Where are you, slut?"

God, he's a real charmer, this one.

Slowly, you start to creep around the shop, trying to get a better peek, when suddenly, you take a wrong step, and the fragile, crumbling conrete gives way underneath you.

You let out a scream as you fall from the second floor, landing flat on your back in the shop beneath. You gasp for air, ripping the mask and hood off of your face.

Adam appears before you, his cocky grin suddenly faded. You tense your body, waiting for him to attack, but he does nothing. He stands there, staring at you.

"What's your fucking problem?" You ask, looking away, somehow unable to bear the sight of his gaze anymore.

He says nothing, instead walking slowly over to you. You scoot back as far as you can before your back hits the wall.

Looking up at Adam, you squeeze your eyes shut and turn your head away as he reaches down for you.

Suddenly, before you know it, you feel his arms lift you up. But before you even have time to process that, you're flying through the roof of the building and into the air.

Unable to speak, you gawk at the sights below you, flying at insane speeds in Adam's arms. He stops at a tall building, dropping you on the rooftop.

"It's almost over. Stay here until we leave, or you'll get killed."

Before you can even respond, he flies off into the distance.

"What the fuck?"

--

It took you a while to climb down the building, and even longer to walk back to the hotel. The asshole had really taken you far from the battle site.

You wearily walk up the steps of the hotel, swinging the door open and collapsing at the bar.

"And where the fuck have you been?" Husk asks, pouring you a drink.

"I don't even know dude." You slam your drink, and he pours you another one.

Another voice chimes in. "What do you mean, 'you don't know?' What happened?" Angel Dust now joins you at the bar.

Sighing, you explain what happened, also gaining the interest of Vaggie and Charlie.

"That's.. strange. I don't understand why he wouldn't just kill you. He's kind of notorious for that." Vaggie says, a confused look on her face.

"Maybe he felt bad?" Charlie says enthusiastically. Husk snorts at this. "Maybe not." She says more quietly.

"All I know is, I'm going the fuck to bed." You stand, slamming your last shot before heading up and turning in for the night.

--

What you thought was a random, strange occurence, ending up turning into a yearly routine.

Every single year, the angels would come down for extermination, lead by Adam. And every year, he began to seek you out, snatching you off the streets and dropping you on the top of a random building.

Every time, you fought, kicked, and screamed. You demanded, yelled, cursed. But still you recieved no answers, only "rescues" you weren't asking for.

This year would be different, you decided. You were going to fight him back, and demand to know why the fuck he kept doing this. It didn't make any sense, and you deserved answers.

You had a plan. All you had to do was stand in the open, and wait.

Sure enough, Adam came flying down. You could see his eyes sweep the crowd, before landing directly on you. In the midst of the chaos, nobody else ever notices him swoop down and grab you.

You played it up like you always do, yelling at him to let you go. He did the same as always - ignored you.

As he neared the top of the building, you suddenly grabbed onto his wing and bent it as hard as you could, earning a loud CRACK.

"FUCK! What the FUCK!" Adam shrieks in pain, dropping you onto the rooftop and collapsing alongside you.

You grab daggers out from under your shirt, and begin wildly slashing. Despite his wound, he recovers quickly, fighting you off.

But he's not going anywhere with that broken wing.

The both of you jump backwards. "Adam. Tell me what you're doing. No more games!" You scream.

"You broke my fucking wing, you bitch!" He yells back.

"ADAM! No more games!"

You lunge at him again, tackling him to the ground, stomping the heel of your shoe down into the broken wing. He screams, but holds tightly onto both of your wrists, keeping your daggers away from his face.

"Just tell m-"

You're suddenly cut off by a sharp pain in your chest. You gasp for air, looking down and seeing the tip of a blade poking out through your shirt.

Through your chest.

"NO!" Adam screams out, cradling you as you slump off of him, now the one on the ground.

Behind you, Lute stands looking confused, holding onto her bloody blade.

"LUTE! What the fuck?"

"Sir, I thought -"

"FUCK!" Adam screams, holding onto you.

You simply smile, aware of the life draining away from you.

Before you die, all you can manage to say is,

"At least the game is finally over."

--

All you hear is a loud POOF! and suddenly, you're awake, standing, and feel no more pain.

Standing before you, angels. Surrounding you, more angels. White, white everywhere.

You look down and see yourself in elegant white clothing.

"What the FUCK?"

"Welcome to Heaven!"

--

Don't forget, I'm always accepting requests!

Chapters

I - II - III - IV - V - VI - VII

[loserlvrss]

face yoon jeonghan (윤정한)

authors note // this story isn't supposed to be very heavy !! something light with an eventual happy ending c: ive been sitting with this idea for literal years, so i hope its good. a full playlist will eventually be made, but kr&b is what i listened to while writing it (along with the chapter songs i link at the beginning)

chapter theme warnings // language, angst, unplanned pregnancy, implied suicidal thoughts, topics of pregnancy & babies in general

word count // 2.3k

prologue: face: songs: 1  2  3  4 

You kissed your child’s head, ruffling the short chestnut locks. Your kid’s hair was slightly different than yours—Texture wise—also lightening or darkening further in various settings. However, you only realized that because you were his mother, and it was basically your job to know everything about your son. 

There was laughter and quieted screams meeting your ears; other children and childcare workers who were playing in the background as you were just finishing dropping him off. 

“I’ll see you after work, Jae. I'll bring you the cupcake you like, okay?” 

Jae grabbed your face with soft hands, pressing a sweet kiss to your cheek and then bringing you into a hug. You stood up and watched as he skipped off, joining a group who he’s expressed (with the confirmation of the childcare workers) are his best friends. 

You were always beyond proud of your son for being able to spread so much love to the world, despite not having the smoothest upbringing—or frankly, an example of unconditional love (despite yours for him). You wanted to feel proud of yourself, but knew that it was all Jae’s interpretation of the world around him. He loved everyone and everything; in the purest form, he found beauty. He was the best kid you’ve ever met, but maybe you were just biased. 

“He’s truly a beautiful kid, looks just like you.” You met eyes with the woman who worked the sign-in and out desk. “Laughs and smiles all the time; Gets along with everyone… Even the kids that people don’t seem to gravitate towards. He hates to see them left out. Good job with him, miss y/n.” 

“Thank you.” You replied, forcing a smile to surface. You couldn’t help the bittersweet feeling that left a lump in your throat. You knew exactly why it always bothered you though; he looks just like you. But nobody knew he looked almost uncanny to his father at this age. He didn’t have your eyes, nor mouth, nor cheekbones. All Jae had, in your eyes, was part of your personality and nose. 

You tried time and time again, staring at your son as he’d nap, to find what people would point-out. But you never did, and that seemed to bother you more than you’d like to admit. So, what should’ve been a compliment was always hard for you to swallow. 

“I’ll see you at five-thirty!” 

She nodded behind the desk. “He’ll be all ready for you.” 

You let the door swing behind you, a slight shake to your hands as you found your keys. It was beginning to look and feel like spring, and soon the cherry blossoms would bloom, meaning you’d have your annual outing with Jae to see them before they fell. You’d take a day off work and keep him home from preschool, taking him out for lunch and ice cream, letting him play at the nearby park after until his little heart's contempt. 

You loved that day, and you looked forward to it all year round. It was peace of mind, and there seemed like little responsibility when it was just you two enjoying life. 

The days seemed to pass slowly nowadays, and maybe that was because now that you were getting older, you were repeating the same routine like clockwork. It was a never-ending Groundhog’s Day, where you could only hope to find the escape to the time-loop. 

The car came to a stop, and you put it in park quickly after. Your head fell atop your chilled hands that gripped the steering wheel still. You let out a sigh, a breath that forever seemed to be stuck in your lungs. As you collected yourself, you also collected your purse from the passenger seat, taking your keys and clenching them tightly. 

The beep of a car locking was familiar to you as it met your ears, causing you to turn and look. Meeting your sights was the black vehicle that belonged to your coworker, as well as said person, who hadn’t noticed you yet.

“Wonwoo?” You asked, slightly confused as to why he was scheduled at the same time as you on a Monday, rather than a Friday or Wednesday; like usual, however, your shifts overlapped quite often. 

His sharp, cat-like features were on full display, glasses within his forefinger and thumb as he cleaned the lenses. He was wearing dark-washed, wide leg jeans, and a white T-shirt—One that looked as if he had bought it recently—His hair was falling effortlessly, only moving slightly with the gentle gusts of wind. 

You always thought he looked like the lead of a drama, a sought after actor that attended fashion shows and got awards, not someone who worked at a bakery, like you. 

You had started working before him, right after you had dropped out of Seoul University, 7 weeks into your pregnancy with Jae. You were a confused, hormonal, soon-to-be mother who had no one to rely on. But you always thought that Wonwoo deserved more than what he was left with, and sometimes you regretted not being that comfort for him, as he always was for you. 

He’d run to the convenience store, mid-shift, just because you kept talking about triangle kimbap or a watermelon bar. He’d cover for you when you’d get ill and run to the bathroom with a hand slapped over your face. And when your due date got closer, he’d walk you to your car just to help you get in comfortably. 

You two weren’t even far off in age, and maybe that’s why you knew deep down it was because he pitied your circumstance: Single, pregnant, and borderline suicidal. All your plans had been thrown out like trash the moment you took the test, the moment you fought with your ex, breaking up after 4 years together. 

Every single promise for a better life—A happy life—Was washed away with the rain. And even if you weren’t technically alone, you felt as if the world had shut you out. Now it’s been 4 years, and you’ve gotten used to the feeling of uncertainty. You lived for Jae, and that always should’ve been enough. However, you felt guilty for thinking of a time when he didn’t exist, when he wasn’t even a thought in the back of your mind. If you could go back in time, you were sure you wouldn’t change anything, because Jae was your lifeline, the one thing in this world that kept you going. But, the tears that streamed down your face on particularly painful nights told a different side to you, one that mirrored the 22 year old who got shattered and left to become nothing but dust. 

You couldn’t help but think that life would’ve been easier if you were prepared for it. If you had Jae when you were 26 or 27 like you had planned on. If you had finished your business degree and opened your own company with your boyfriend. Life would’ve been smooth sailing. But instead, you were left with barely enough money to keep the lights on, and many cupcakes to keep a smile on your son’s face after long shifts.        

“Are you okay?” The voice broke you from the painful thoughts that plagued your subconscious. “Y/n? Is it Jae, is he okay?” 

You nodded in an unconstant pattern, slowly moving your head up to level your eyes. Your eyebrows creased slightly, but that was only because you were having a hard time pushing your mind in the right direction.  

“Yeah, he’s fine.”

“Are you?” He approached you as you leaned against the driver’s door. “Did something happen?” 

His concern would’ve seemed out of character if you didn’t know him, but turned down lips and straight faces were only surface level. He might’ve looked cold, but you’ve never met anyone warmer. 

“Just tired, that’s all.” You replied, crossing your arms. Your bag hung against your front and you wondered the time. You weren’t running late after dropping Jae off, but even if you were, your manager for the night was standing in front of you—And, Wonwoo would never write you up. “Been thinking a lot recently… Well, we should go in and help Minjoon before she scolds us.” 

He laughed. “She is a terrifying highschooler.”  

“Scariest I've ever met.” You mimicked a shiver, pushing off the metal and awaiting Wonwoo to join you. “I can already see her glare.” 

He did promptly, holding the glass door open for you. You brushed past him, viewing the many people lined up and a seething highschool girl at the register; Whether it was because you were technically 3 minutes late or because of a customer was up for interpretation. 

You apologized silently as you made eye-contact with the girl, walking around the open corner of the front desk and to the back to put your stuff away. There were various lockers, each having a name for the employees of the bakery—Not that there were that many to begin with. 

You opened the one with your whiteboard-markered name, and put your purse on the shelf. Inside there was a picture of you and Jae as well as an old note from Minjoon that read I hope all is well, but I'm going to kill you, because you were late, much like today. However that day it was because Jae was sick and whining about everything; His babysitter had given him the flu earlier that week. 

Of course though, Wonwoo covered for you when you called in tears. And after he even brought some food to your apartment, which was across town from his own, and let you vent in your dimly-lit kitchen until way too late. He even took your shift when you caught the virus from your son sneezing in your face. 

You sighed again, shutting the door closed with the quiet bang of metal on metal. Your hand clutched where your heart would be if it wasn’t scared out of your chest. 

On the other side was Minjoon, who was leisurely propped against her own locker. “You two came in together. You’re both late… Together?” 

She eyed you as you tried to explain, “We met in the parking lot.” And even though it was the truth, she made you feel as if it wasn’t. Her arms were crossed, looking awfully like your mother would have if she was still around. “We just walked in together, don’t get the wrong idea.”

“Oh, why would I?” She voiced, nose turned to the ceiling. “It definitely wouldn’t be because you two are always together, and Wonwoo would do literally anything for you. No, that would be ridiculous to think.” You deadpanned, knowing it was true, but a misunderstanding. You didn’t like Wonwoo, you don’t see how you could, considering your situation. “If I didn’t know you two I would think Jae was his.” 

Your heart sank, and maybe it was the insinuation of people making assumptions that hurt you. Did Jae need a father to be valid in other people’s eyes? That’s probably not what she meant, but nonetheless it’s where your head went. 

“It’s not a bad thing, but if you two start dating, please don’t let me catch you guys making out in here. I’d have to bill you for therapy, and then quit.”

You mimicked her lean. “God forbid you don’t have any money to buy albums. What would you do without your Jungkook photocards?” 

“Die.” She replied simply. “I’d die.”  

Before you had a chance to call her dramatic, Wonwoo popped through the door.

“Could you guys help me? It’s about to be time for our morning rush.” 

You jumped off the locker, hustling out the door to assist your manager with the heaps of business men and women on their commute to work, or influencers looking for a pretty picture. You rarely had the in between, but sometimes on a blue moon, you’d get the random straggler who just wanted a sweet treat. 

“I rest my case!” You heard being shouted as you let the door close behind you. “It would just be a crazy thought, wouldn’t it!” 

You met his side, taking the filled cup from his hand and putting a lid on it. “Sorry.” You took over the last of the three drinks, thankful it was simply just a black coffee. 

“Gonna have to start writing you up for being so distracting, y/n.” He joked, grabbing a croissant and placing it within a brown wax bag. You smiled apologetically. “I’ll go do the register.”

“Are you sure? I could get Minjoon to do it again.”

You nodded, placing a comforting hand against his arm. “No, it’s okay. I’ll do it, it’ll distract me from my thoughts.” 

Wonwoo reluctantly agreed, because he may technically be your boss but you rarely listened to him, and he knew it was no use arguing if it was only going to lead to you doing it anyway. You appreciated his sentiment, and his eagerness to make sure you were comfortable, however it was almost always at his or someone else’s expense.

You were an adult—A big girl—Who should be able to handle a little bit of stress. But maybe Wonwoo knew you were just a ticking time-bomb, awaiting that last second before you exploded. He seemingly knew you well enough after four years.  Everything might’ve been getting a little too much recently, and yes, maybe you felt lost sometimes, but you, in reality, had no will to give up. Not when it was Jae at risk—He already didn’t have a father, why would you leave him motherless as well? He was just as big a priority to you a little over 4 years ago, as he is today. You’d sacrifice everything for your child. And, truthfully, you didn’t know if that was a good or bad thing.

all rights reserved copyright © loserlvrss 2024

tag list: @yyangj3lly | send an ask to be added! masterlist next part

[effy-writes]

HIIIII!!! SO I HAVE A REQ FOR A FIZZ X READER (you can add asmodeus too if you want) WHERE IN EP 6 READER GETS KIDNAPPED WITH BLITZ AND FIZZ :3

HIII SORRY THIS WAS PUBLISHED LATE IVE BEEN SUPER BUSY THE PAST COUPLE OF DAYS. and i didn’t know if you wanted the reader already be dating fizz or platonic or smth so i made it where fizz and the reader are best friends and they ended up confessing their feelings bc they thought they were gonna die at the end

and thank you for requesting! hope you enjoyed <3

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Fizz x GN! Reader: Confessed

Ozzie knows that you and Fizz has been best friends since childhood, so he called you to go with Fizz to run some errands because he doesn’t want Fizz to go alone. Of course you said yes because you wanted to protect him, so you and Fizz were currently at the Greed ring.

“Fizz, you sure you wanna do that clown tryout thing? You know how Mammon is.”

“Ugh not you too. Did Ozzie tell you to come talk to me about it?”

“Well, maybe. But still, you look so stressed whenever you’re working with Mammon.”

“Don’t worry about me-”

He got interrupted by running into Blitz, like literally running into him. Since childhood you obviously hung out with Fizz way more than Blitz, (so of course, Blitz doesn’t like you as much. Well more like he doesn’t hate you as much as he hates Fizz).

“Oh, wow. Lookee who it is.” Fizz crossed his arms.

“Oh, fuck... You again...Y/n? You’re still hanging out with him?”

“I didn’t abandon him like the way you did.”

“I didn’t- you know what fuck it never mind.”

“Stalkin' me now, huh?” Fizz replied to Blitz.

“Oh, don't fuckin' flatter yourself, clown. I have my own life, y'know, without YOU in it.”

“Uh huh, sure! Blitzo.”

“The "O" is silent now, bitch! And gee whiz, we've been in each other's relative vicinity TWICE, in the last FIFTEEN YEARS! That would make me, THE SHITTIEST STALKER IN HISTORY!”

“Twice... IS ALREADY WAY TOO MUCH.”

You watched as the two bicker at each other. You were about to say something to cut this interaction off but all of a sudden the three of you were touching bodies. And in a blink of an eye immediately got slammed against the wall. The wall slamming knocked the wind out of you.

“Funny to run into ya again, "Blitzy!"” Striker laughed as he pulls out his knife and slides toward Fizzarolli, pointing it under the chin. “And with a famous friend...” Striker looked at you and tilted his head, “Who the fuck are you?”

“Who the fuck are you?”

“I asked you first!”

“I asked you second!”

“Oh, fuck me.” Blitz groaned.

“For the record, we are not friends.” Fizz announced.

One thing led to another. Crimson tied up the 3 of you, and put duct tape on Fizz’s mouth. You tried to break out of the ropes to protect Fizz but it was no use. Since you kept making a lot of noise Striker put duct tape over your mouth while Crimson was leaving a prerecorded message.

You realized that Crimson was going to send the video to Ozzie. Does Ozzie know that I’m here with him? Fuck..he’s going to be so pissed that I let this happened.

After the message, Striker ripped off the duct tape of your mouths and threw the three of you into a cage. Fizz stammers in fear while Blitz scoots back. You got closer to Fizz, trying to calm him down since he’s a little claustrophobic.

“Oh, chill out, jester. Christ on a stick, it's like you've never been tied up before!”

“Sure, but not by a bunch of psychos! And a piece of shit!”

“Am I...? Okay, am I the psycho or the piece of shit?”

“Both!”

“Yeah, that checks.”

“Instead of yelling at each other we need to find a way to break out!” You whispered.

“Y/n why are you with him anyway?” Blitz jabbed.

“We’re best friends.” You shrugged.

“And Fizz still didnt ask you out?

Fizz gulped, completely discarding this topic, “Ohh, playin' that card, huh? Ok... What about you? Seems your tastes have gotten more... "regal", lately. Heheh...”

“Yeah, well unlike you, I fuck who I want, when I want. I'm not gonna be tied down to some big blue-blood asshole.”

“You could've fooled me the way Princey was cozying up to you at Ozzie's.”

“Wait, you were at Ozzie’s? And on a date with the prince?” You interjected.

“Hey! Stolas only cares about having a rugged peasant raw-dog him into his mattress, it's nothing... y'know...It's nothing else...”

“Then why were you even there?” Fizz questioned.

“OTHER very important reasons, of course!”

You tried to wiggle yourself out of the ropes while in the midst of Blitz and Fizz arguing yet again. Hearing the way Fizz spoke about Ozzie made you have a pain in your gut.

Striker interrupted the discourse that was happening, and then proceeded to say all of the things wrong with the taboo relationships that Fizz and Blitz had with royal blue bloods. Obviously Fizz got defensive, which made Striker threaten him.

“Leave him alone!” You yelled out.

Striker glared at you and let go of Fizz, “Looks like you want him, don’t you?”

“Excuse me?”

“I see the way your face changed from pissed off to sadness once jester over here started talking about his boy toy.” Striker grinned sinisterly.

You glanced over at Fizz who had wide eyes, “No, I’m just sad because I have to be locked up in a cage with people who won’t stop fighting.” You said as a matter of fact.

Striker shook the cage before jumping down from it. You looked back at Fizz and softly smiled, not knowing on what to say without expressing your feelings for him.

You stayed silent as Blitz was finally able to get you and Fizz out of the cage, but once you guys all fell out and was met face to face with mafia members things got serious.

You and Fizz made a run for it while Blitz was fighting them off. “We have to help him.”

“What? No!”

“Fizz please. If we don’t we might die.”

Fizz didn’t want to help the person that stabbed him in the back, but he did wanted you to live. “Fine.”

And with that you and Fizz tried to kill off as many members as possible. Fizz doesn’t know how to fight, but you do know some fighting moves.

“What the fuck, Fizz?! How is someone this flexible, this useless in combat?! At least Y/n knows how to fight.”

“I’m a performer! I don’t do danger!”

With a few of the demons out for the count, Blitz, Fizz and you made a run for it.

“Well good to know you're still a wimpy circus puss that needs Y/n to protect you, sounds like you’re using them!”

“Where did you get that from!” Fizz yelled.

“Because ever since we were little they had to protect you! Especially after that accident!”

“AN ACCIDENT?! ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!”

“Guys we seriously need to stop arguing we HAVE to focus getting out of here!” You yelled.

“You didnt even sound grateful that Y/n was with you! And you were the one who wanted them and not me!” Blitz shot the mafia number that was coming from behind.

“I DIDNT SAY ANYTHING ABOUT ME NOT WANTING YOU TO SEE ME! I WANTED YOU TO.” Fizz huffed, “I wanted my best friends to see me.”

All three of you guys had a look of realization. “Ohhhh.”

“Look, Misunderstanding or no, it's hard to just forgive you. It's been fifteen years and... That's so much time... But! I guess you didn't really ruin my life.”

“What, you're telling me getting blown up didn't ruin your life?”

“It was painful... and challenging, and y'know FUCK YOU STILL, BUT... It's not like I'm broken. And I now have someone who understands me and...” Fizz looks at you and softly smiled.

Blitz looked at you too, “Where were you in the fire?”

“I was with Fizz. He uh…pushed me out the way and he got blown up instead of me.“

Striker snuck up on you guys and got a hold of you three, “You been a pain in my ass long enough, Blitz. NOW, I'm gon' break you like a FUCKIN' HORSE!”

“Ohh don’t you dare talk sexy to me!”

“You're still on the horse thing?!” The two of you said.

Striker and the goons cornered you guys even more. “Fizz! Remember how you used to distract my dad so I could steal his booze?”

“I mean, yeah? Why?”

“Yeah well, I need to get up to that window there to bust us out.”

“Ohohooo! One distraction, comin' up!”

The moment Fizz started to perform you helped Blitz break out.

“Since when did you become a personal body guard for Fizz?”

“Since he saved me from that fire. I feel like I owe it to him.” You replied as you and Blitz created a tower of boxes to get to the window.

“I didn’t mean to blow him up, Y/n. I’m sorry that I did and it WAS an accident!”

“I know, I believe you. Don’t worry about it, okay? He’s doing good.”

Blitz used a blow torch to open the window. “I’m sorry I didn’t even try to contact you either. I was just..I don’t know.”

“Dude it’s okay. Stop apologizing- You just fucking dropped the blow torched.” You deadpanned.

“Fuck! Okay uh..give me those extremely convenient bombs.”

You turned around and saw them. “Oh, would you look at that.”

You guys set them around the window and took some steps back before pushing the trigger, making the window explode into a massive hole.

Fizz stretches up and allowed Blitz on his back while using his other mechanic arm to hold you and swung you guys out of the warehouse.

The whole building caved in as you three made a run for it while laughing. Your hand was still in Fizz’s, and since he can’t feel you assume he doesn’t know you guys are holding hands.

In the midst of you guys talking Striker grabbed the two of you. You stomped on his foot, but instead of him letting go you and Fizz, he only let go of you, making you drop and before you could get up and stepped on your neck, cutting off air flow.

“Y/n!” Fizz shouted.

“I'm THROUGH losin' these fights! This worthless little pet REEKS of his over-bloated master... I'll at least enjoy gettin' rid of 'im.”

Blitz sweats a little, then finally shooting the gas tanks, making them explode. Striker scurries away and the moment he did Fizz helped you up while you gasp for air.

“Are you okay!?”

You looked at your surrounding areas, flames all around you two. “Fizz! We’re going to catch on fire!” You screamed out.

Fizz tried using his mechanical hand to reach out to get you two away but it malfunction. “Fuck!”

“Fizz, I always had feelings for you since we were little and I really wished I said something before we die.”

Fizz saw Blitz hop onto a crane and hold his hand out to grab you guys. “We’re not going to die I promise, here hold on to me.”

You held onto Fizz as blitz swung you guys out of the fire and onto a safe area.

“YOU BLEW US UP AGAIN YOU PRICK!” Fizz yelled.

“I know. But this time I stuck around.” Blitz saw that you guys were still holding hands, “And I overheard Y/n express their feelings for you because they thought you guys were gonna die. So uh, congratulations! If I didn’t try to blow you guys up then Y/n wouldn’t have confessed SO, yall welcome.”

“Fuck you.” You and Fizz said in unison.

~~

Before you and Fizz met face to face with Ozzie, he wanted to talk to you. “I-”

You interrupted, “It’s okay if you don’t have feelings for me. I understand and it was very impulsive for me to say that. I know you and Ozzie-”

“We’re polyamorous. I want you in our relationship.”

“But what about Ozzie?”

“He won’t mind, in fact he’s always been telling me to invite you joining us because he knows I’ve had feelings for you since we were little.”

You smile out of relief and wrapped your arms around him to pull him into a kiss. “What are we going to say to Ozzie?”

“We’ll walk up in there and just tell him we’re in a relationship.”

“Are you sure he won’t mind?”

“Y/n,” Fizz placed his forehead onto yours so he could feel you, “Today he told me to ask you out. Everytime we hang out one on one he’s always telling me this. I’m just glad you were the one to say it first because I do NOT have the guts.”

“In my defense I thought we were gonna die, so if it wasn’t for Blitz we wouldn’t be having this conversation.” You kissed Fizz, “I love you Fizz, I really do.”

“I love you too.”

[ofsappho]

Summertime Sadness (part 2)

Simon "Ghost" Riley x reader

Second chance romance, heavy angst, hurt/very little comfort

Ten years ago: the first time you met Simon

Today: the first time Ghost meets you

Tags: mental illness, therapeutic boarding school, self harm, suicide attempt/suicidality, self harm, abuse, parental abandonment, much the same as last chapter. This fic is unedited because I don’t feel like editing it lol. If you see spelling/grammar issues, no you didn’t.

TEN YEARS AGO

Reader POV

-

It’s intake day.

Intake day happens once a week, always on Wednesday.

You don’t know why they pick Wednesday. It seems pretty arbitrary, doesn’t it?

On intake day, the nurses and counselors make all the current residents of the inpatient program line up to greet the newbies. You actually look forward to intake day. Everyone here is so boring and routine; your roommate never speaks unless spoken to and she always keeps her earbuds in. On intake day, the hope that someone nice will be admitted survives for the few hours of the intake itself.

It usually dies right after. There was one polite girl who smiled when you waved last week, but she was transferred to a different facility that night before you could learn her name.

You’ve been here for three weeks, so that’s three intake days.

You’re not sure why you’ve been here so long. It seems a little excessive; you’d think by now they’d realize your stuff isn’t so bad and maybe you could transition to outpatient appointments?

It’s a little dissociation and some minor depression. Not bad at all.

But your doctors agree, albeit gently, that you should stay for the full five month course.

The program isn’t so bad. The facility sits on a sprawling multi-acre property in the British countryside, where everything is beautiful and verdant and always chilly. It’s lovely. The tea is good. You’re getting used to how they take it here. It’s nothing like the sweet tea you drink back home.

You suppose that’s another reason why they won’t let you go home even though you’re okay; there isn’t a home to go back to. Your dad hasn’t looked you in the eye since Mom left. At least the orderlies here greet you in the morning.

(What Dad doesn’t know is that before she left, she told you she loved you and to wait for her. Soon, she’ll take you away from this place and you’ll never have to see your dad again.)

Before you head to the foyer, you check your hair in the mirror of your room’s suicide-proofed bathroom. A young teenage face stares back at you with cheeks flushed red from the sun. You trace your deep smile lines with the tip of your finger, then practice smiling. You would have feel better about moving to a therapeutic boarding school if you’d been greeted with a smile.

At first, you think the newest crop of poor souls will be uninteresting at best. Listless rich kids detoxing off Mommy’s coke, frightened preteens who’ve never been away from their parents for an extended period of time, and a few teenagers straight from an ER, IV bags and all.

And then you see him get off the bus last.

He’s tall, towering over everyone else. A lanky, almost skeletal build, with a bored, aloof expression on his face. He hides the Zippo lighter he was playing with in his sleeve before the nurses catch and confiscate it.

There’s something horrifically severe about him. He can’t be more than a couple of years older than you, but he carries himself like he’s a blade and the world is filled with monsters.

His eyes are large and dark, rich brown irises rimmed with pale blonde eyelashes. And they’re kind, even though he would probably hate having that pointed out.

You decide then and there that you’ll befriend him. He could use a friend; everyone here does. He’s beautiful in his sharpness and elegant in his abrasiveness. Maybe you can coax more of that hidden kindness out, show him that it’s worth more than his anger. You wouldn’t be able to stay away if you tried.

You both like playing with fire, though you prefer less literal ones.

-

TODAY

Ghost POV

-

Your smile fades swiftly as if it was never there to begin with.

There are two ghosts in this room. That’s what you are; a ghost of the girl he knew.

He watches and waits for you to shift uncomfortably and start blabbering to fill the silence like you used to. “Why’d you make them call me?” Ghost asks when it’s clear that you won’t.

As soon as you explain, he’s out of here. Ghost meant it when he said he never wanted to see you again.

You’re the last living reminder of the past he’s tried so hard to kill. The beeping sounds of your heart monitor spell out his mistakes in a grating, irritating rhythm.

Your answer disappoints his expectations. “I didn’t actually think you’d show.” Ghost doesn’t hear any wistfulness or longing in your voice, anything that would tell him that you’re clinging on to the boy you thought he was. Only a bone-dry and hollow statement of facts.

“What do you want?”

You ignore his question. At fifteen, you were good at that. At twenty-five, you’re better. “You got any cigarettes I could bum? You look like you still smoke them,” You say as you fiddle with your torn, bleeding nail beds with the classic anxiety of nicotine withdrawal.

He does that too when a mission stretches too long without a resupply and he finishes his cigarettes early to stave off hunger.

Ghost remembers fighting with you over the pack of smokes he smuggled into the program. He would hold it way above your head and laugh as you struggled to reach them. But you never gave up - they were bad for him, and you liked him too much to see him die of lung cancer.

He remembers the determination in your eyes and your unwavering faith that he could be saved.

“They’re bad for you,” Ghost echoes.

If you remember that moment, you don’t show it. “You know what else is fucking bad for you?” Your tone is so acerbic that it gives him whiplash.

He can’t resist taking a shot. “What, being a prick?” You just… bring out the worst in him. You make him feel as unhinged and unmoored as he was when you first met.

You roll your bloodshot eyes.

“I wasn’t going to call you out on that. I was going to say benzos and vodka. Also throwing yourself headfirst off a bridge.”

“Oh.”

What is he supposed to say to that?

“Why did you come?” You ask after a long moment of quiet interspersed by that fucking heart monitor.

Ghost grinds his teeth into each other as he reflects. He hates doing that; the inside of his skull is a bad place. “…I don’t know,” He admits. Coming here was a mistake; Ghost understands that now.

The foul taste on the back of his tongue is guilt. But why? You did this to yourself. You brought him here to play games and fuck him up, so why is he the one who feels… bad?

You sigh. “Simon-“

“Ghost. It’s Ghost now,” He cuts you off with more violence than necessary.

Your mouth settles into a tight, pained line. “Ghost. Go away.”

“But you called me here.”

That provokes a reaction.

Ghost sees it and immediately wishes it hadn’t.

You stare him straight in the eye, your dilated pupils peel back his mask and see the face underneath. Your skin is tinged gray and your bottom lip blooms red with blood from where you’ve bitten through it.

He wants back the child sobbing for his forgiveness on her knees, who looked at him like he hung the stars in the sky.

“And it was a mistake, and I should never have done it, and I just wanted the satisfaction of knowing you weren’t going to pick up the phone. That I was truly alone.”

So the memory of him is a knife you’re using on yourself. Fucking disturbing.

“Oh.”

You raise an eyebrow as you wave. “Bye.”

Right.

That’s it.

Though your dismissal rankles, Ghost does as you ordered and takes his leave of you.

His work phone vibrates a few times.

Only one person calls that it. “Captain,” Ghost greets.

Captain Price clears his throat on the other side of the line. “Lieutenant. When can we expect you back?”

‘Tomorrow’ is on the tip of Ghost’s tongue.

He’s never taken a day off in his career, which means he’s got at least a year or two in built up vacation time. “I’ll be gone for a while longer, sir. Not sure yet how long,” Ghost answers promptly.

It’s only for a few more days, a week at most. Long enough to make sure you won’t try to kill yourself again, long enough for the guilt freezing his blood and choking his lungs to fade.

“Alright, Lieutenant. Keep us posted.”

“Yes, sir.”

TAGGING: @devcica @igotmajordaddyissues @almightywdm @copiasratscheese @nerdyreaderpapi @schmelscorner

[braxlrose]

I miss ur writings sm :(

I am so sorry that I've been gone for so long, I haven't posted any fan fiction in so many months and honestly I lost motivation 😭 so many ppl who were in this fandom and I created a community with, were slowly getting over this "phase" and it definitely affected me. But I'm going to try and get back into writing. I hope this will do good for now! Ive had a lot of ppl recently ask for 2005 bill hcs, and I've done that before so if this is repetitive for something else I've written, sorry!

content warnings: none

a/n: I'll be updating my tag list since it hasn't been updated since like August of last year and I don't want to be tagging people who don't care or want to see these posts anymore. So if you wanna be tagged, let me know!

2005!bill kaulitz x f!reader

sfw:

- I'm an alternative person so whenever I write for bill, I always imagine him with an alternative girl 😞 even though from what I've seen he's never really been w/ an alternative one, BUT LETS PRETEND OKAY 🙏🙏

• he absolutely loves doing hair together, I think he enjoys helping you do your hair in the morning and your make up. And he's even more greatful if you do his makeup. Then he can just relax while you help him.

• pookie has crunchy ass hair at the end of the day when he has to wash it out, don't make fun of him 😞

• getting piercings together is something he LOVES doing with you. Mainly early piercings because he only has a tongue and eyebrow piercing on his face.

• if you made music too, he would always go to your concerts and basically scream the entire time. Hopefully, you'd do the same for him.

• if you have longer nails, head scratches are always a must and he will lay in your lap for literal hours while you pamper him.

- I personally think he would love to learn words in your language if you keep something different than German. And despite what anybody thinks, he finds it hilarious to learn the dirty words.

• if you cook him something from your culture, he will literally die. He basically thinks everything about you is so cool, and learning about a culture different from his is so exciting

• but if you two really want to date, you'll have to both try to learn English or each other language because there is going to be a hard language barrier between you two.

- I think one of the reasons he would've fallen in love with you is because you were upfront with him. He's not the type of guy to just go up and kiss someone so if you confess first, that would make things so much easier.

- obviously, you'd have to get along with Tom, Georg and Gustav. So if you don't, there's no way he'll go out with you, especially if you can't get along or hate Tom.

-Dates together consist of stuff you guys bought somewhere, or if you guys went to a fastfood restaurant.

• He doesn't have a lot of money yet so dates wouldn't exactly be high class, hopefully you don't mind 😉

-Since this is around the time Tokio Hotel is getting increasingly famous, there are fangirls around trying to flirt and ask out bill all the time and he has to shoo them off. He reminds you every night about how much he loves you and that those fan girls shouldn't bother you.

-he likes to spoon you a lot, and you two switch back n forth between him being the big spoon and the small spoon.

• I think he also really likes it when you lay on top of him, with your face in his neck and your legs wrapped around him. (This also works sitting upwards).

• cuddling with him is so nice too because he actually smells really good 😱

- I think he still gets very insecure sometimes because of the haters and people who harass the band because they don't like them and you reassure him a lot.

a/n pt 2: sorry this wasn't too long! I'm trying to get back into the groove of writing so if this is terrible I'm sorry 😞

taglist: none right now

[amourtoken]

hi so this may be VERH tmi but like :( ive literally never ever been able to actually get off and its making me think of nicky or matt with an inexperienced reader :((((( helpin them get off and taking care of them andndjwnejenrne

I fucking love this and I was in your boat for YEARS so I entirely understand. I didn't realize I could even get off in the first place and thought the whole climax thing was just bs or that there was something wrong with me honestly 😭 I'm 21 now and didn't actually finish for the first time until i was like 18ish if that makes you feel better. I didn't understand my anatomy at all and every guy I'd been with till I met my bf didn't either so it was just a lot of missed opportunity.

Also: adding a cut bc this is LONGGGGG

I feel like explaining you've never gotten off to either of these guys would be like flipping a switch in their brain. Wdym you've never gotten off??? They'd make it a whole ordeal to change that.

Nicky would be "softer" about it, and I put that in quotes bc he's by no means a softie lmao he's a closet freak that just hides it well until the right moment. He's gonna take such good care of you :((

Nicky spends damn near a whole hour on foreplay itself, there's not an inch of your body that goes untouched. He wants you so needy you're shaking underneath him before he even touches you where you really need it. He'd kiss up and down your thighs and his fingers would dig into your hips a bit to drag you closer to his face so he can bury it in your pussy. He'll spend hours here if you let him he doesn't mind, he drags your hands up to his hair so you can pull him around however you need too cause he knows what he's doing but your input is important.

Honestly, he doesn't even care if he gets to cum tonight at all, he's doing this all for you. If eating you out isn't enough he'll work his fingers into you at the same time or offer to use a couple toys if that's better. He just wants you to feel good and he'll do anything to get there. Nicky only stops when he has another idea and that's to fuck you with a vibrator pressed right against your clit. He'd hand it to you so you could control the speed and pressure while he focused on fucking himself into you. If you can't seem to get it right he's more than happy to do it for you again and if the vibrator just isn't your thing dw babe he'll use his fingers.

The whole time he's talking you through it and praising you for doing such a good job for him. Once he can tell you're actually getting close he's practically high on it. He tries his best to not change his pace so you can ride out the feeling as long as you'd like but God once he feels you cumming around his cock he's rutting into you like a fucking animal and can't help himself.

"Fuck baby, that's it- shit- you're doing so good for me, it's okay- you're okay, feels good doesn't it?"

Matt on the other hand is an entirely different creature and when he hears you've never cum before he doesn't have the same "patience" Nicky does. He's more than happy to help you get off, but where Nicky spends hours bringing you to the edge, Matt is dragging you to it by your throat and forcing you off.

Matt wants you all fuzzy brained and subspaced for him during this whole thing cause he's gonna be taking care of you, you don't need to do any thinking. All you need to remember is his name.

I could for sure see him dragging you onto his lap in front of a big floor length mirror so he can show you everything he's doing. Your legs are spread on either side of his and he has one of those app controlled vibrators inside you (only taking it out when he wants to fill you up with his cock instead). The idea of watching yourself get off is embarrassing but fuck you're so wet it doesn't really matter at this point, Matt's fingers feel too good to worry about anything else. He has one hand spreading you wide and the other is switching from fingering you and scissoring you open to rubbing your clit and spreading your wetness around. His legs are keeping yours open even when yours squeeze against his and threaten to close.

You're literally dripping down his hand and wrist by the time he decides to fuck you, and he's not changing his stance from earlier, you're still in front of the mirror. He still ends up doing all the work and he's more than happy to though, picking you up and slamming you down on his cock until you were whimpering and crying. Your shoulder and neck are totally littered with bite marks and hickeys from him as well.

When he can tell you're getting close to that edge he hilts himself entirely inside you and wraps a hand around your throat to keep you steady while the other one abuses your clit. Youre twitching in his hold and nearly sobbing by this point cause it feels like an electric current is running under your skin until that coil in your belly unwinds and you yelp and cry in his arms while you cum around his dick. His pace slows on your clit but doesn't stop, he's trying to draw it out as much as he can for you before he lifts you off his cock to change positions.

[onlyjaeyun]

i’ve been following ur writing for some time now and i do have to agree with that anon who said you did CH dirty. you are a very talented writer so it’s just hard to watch.

you started off CH so strong with the lore and little chapters here and there but as it progressed you kind of just got lazy and it shows. when important events happened in the story, they weren’t conveyed through writing but through the texts (ie the riki and yn fight, that was definitely worth a written chapter) and it was honestly disappointing.

the ending isn’t much to say about either. yn and hoon barely go through development after the letter incident and all of a sudden they’re dating and married with a kid like two chapters later?

idk, if it was a mental health issue then i get that but even then you should’ve just gave it a break and thought everything out more. you could do so much better.

thank you for the feedback!

i wanna put you through the progess of a piece of writing from the POV of a writer okay? now keep in mind: i work two jobs, am a fulltime uni student and the daughter of an immigrant household with two parents who still work most of the day just so you know what else i have to deal with, besides my mental health okay?

now, i started off CH strong right? yes. i uploaded on the daily, fine i chose that. a chapter usually takes me around one hour if i actually sit down and focus on nothing but the chapter itself, which includes IG stories, editing, formatting etc. alright

on top of the daily chapters, i constantly replied to 40+ asks a day, a blessing in disguise because no matter how much i enjoy talking to you guys, the pressure does get worse the bigger that number of my inbox becomes, i hope this makes sense

now, i started CH back in october, right when my semester started, thats why i started off strong but as time went on, my assignments and private life got too busy and i guess i felt entitled enough as a writer to skip a few certain chaps and make life a little easier for me by making them regular chapters instead of written ones.

and this is gonna be my main point: i'm not a machine. i wrote a minimum of 5 THOUSAND words per written chapter, MINIMUM. we're talking about a 5-9 THOUSANDED worded chapter EACH WEEK. which usually took me about 6-7 hours, even allnighters.

yes, i chose to do that and maybe my time management wasn't the best but i had to create a compromise where i wouldnt have let you guys wait for over two months which would have resulted in me losing my motivation completely, and yet still focusing on EXAMS. because you know, i'm a fulltime uni student with TWO jobs 😮‍💨

if YOU think i did CH dirty go write an alternative ending yourself but it should be a minimum of 15 chapters including 5 written ones, with at LEAST 9k words each yeah? i wanna see you manage it all, pls prove me wrong snd show me you're better than me i'm genuinely begging bc it might inspire me to do "better" next time.

as a writer/artist/creator, and i can tell you probably arent one yourself or havent been one for long, the longer smth takes to come to an end the worse the pressure becomes which results in a blockage i dont wish upon my worst enemy i'm being deadass. i dealt with some of the worst writer's block ive had since i started writing literally 12 years ago and you're telling me i should have just "taken a break" and do "better"

i never, ever expected anything from anyone but some of you are so entitled to a writer's time and skill it's giving me a headache. maybe you didn't like the timing and writing of the last few chapters of CH and i guess that's unfortunate but this was so unnecessary because you completely dismissed everything else that could have been going on in my life and even belittled my mental health issues like im some fucking AI writing machine

do better, be nicer, write it yourself if you don't like it i'm so fucking over this

if i had gotten out of my own comfort and wellbeing and have actually written another set of written chapters i would have burned myself completely out. ive been in this fandom for not even a year and have already finished FOUR smaus with 50 chapters each, you do NOT get to tell me what i should or could have done better because you dont even give a fuck about me as a person this is just about receiving what YOU think YOURE entitled to but this is MY art and I will do what I see fit even if it's not what was expected of it because i'm a fucking human being with a life before i'm a writer on tumblr

oh, also: i do this for free ㅤ:) just a reminder :) this is my HOBBY :)

and don't you EVER call me lazy again when it comes to writing because i'm not gonna pour my heart and soul into a fic just for you to call me lazy when i literally wrote 50 THOUSAND words for this fucking fic just for the written chapters

goodbye

[meruz]

Lightbox Expo 2023 is over!! Thank you to everyone who stopped by the table. I can't believe I sold out of both my sketchbooks AND my digimon fanbook... (multiple prints too?!)! I'm incredibly grateful... I will have a 2nd print run of both sketchbooks and online orders for the digimon book up in the next couple weeks so please keep an eye out for that!

More gushing abt the weekend under the cut

I sell at an average of idk... 3-4 events a year? So I would consider myself a frequent congoer though not necessarily full time lol. I'm a little jaded like it's not that I don't enjoy going to cons but theres definitely a bunch that feel like just-another-con-weekend to me lol, sometimes it's more work than play I guess. But this con felt really different! For the first time in a while I left a convention feeling really thrilled and giddy that I had been there. The kind of feeling I used to get when I would table at anime cons in highschool! And I think a lot of that is the people I met and talked to and the overall vibes at the event. Oh also I literally just had surgery and going to this con is like the only thing ive done this week besides lay in bed and play Story of Seasons on the nintendo switch and I thought I would be in pain and miserable but actually I HAD SO MUCH FUN...!!!! even when i skipped after-hours socializing every night to go home early and sleep 12 hours lol. SO ANYWAYS. YEAH. IT'S CORNY. BUT I wanna say thank you again to everyone who stopped by the table. Especially all the coworkers and long time mutuals who I met in person for the first time this weekend!! And the long time followers who told me they have been following me since homestuck or naruto or whenever. And college classmates who I haven't seen since graduation, crazy talented underclassmen who I'd never met but stopped by to say hi... So many people who absolutely made my day. SPECIAL thank you to my table partner Emi who is the best and such a good sport and accommodating to the point that I feel ridiculous when she thanks me for anything. And um also thank you to the artists who were cool and nice when I went up to their tables and blurted out 24917596 compliments in rapid succession. or only got one really awkward compliment out to LMAO... I felt so inspired and awe struck by everyone's work! God it was just so cool to be there. I LOVE ART....

Ok yeah thats it. its been a while since ive written a post-con blog post so earnestly lol.. here's my obscene haul photo I was buying stuff at this con like I was dying and couldn't take it with me LMAO.

I'm not gonna go tag everyone because I don't think everyones on tumblr but if you dont mind doing a little google search legwork: big x-men prints from chase conley, prints from jacki li/bguavas, azusa tojo, xanthe bouma, nicodaboy, susan yung, hormstuck, nessa tweneboah, linda liu, ash tahilan, zines also from jason dwyer, ash tahilan, aprilyn cunanan, veggiecakeface, deb lee, dune5and, uhh yoichi nishikawa art book and parakid calendar, stickers again from ash, marie lum, hormstuck, chiou, and emi hartana/crowlets OKAY I THINK I COVERED EVERYTHING THANKS FOR READING

[a-court-of-moonlight-and-ire]

Alright, I took a quick nap and Ive decided that I wanna get the UTM reenactment over with as quickly as possible so Im reading chapter 42 and then I'll reward myself with some pain au chocolats and not thinking about this book for the rest of the day and watching the 2002 takarazuka flower troupe production of elisabeth instead. lets go

Chapter 42

here we fucking go with the illyrian wingspan-dicksize correlation, how would Amren even know that isnt she above sex or something. Honestly, I think Cassian would know wayyyyy more about that. on account of all the gay sex hes having i mean. I thought of that joke and then I realized that you could interpret it to mean that he knows about that because hes illyrian and has a dick, but I want to make it very clear that this is a gay sex joke

how come wings are so sensitive that just barely stroking them makes you moan and shudder but you can still fly with them in harsh winds with no issue. My headcanon is that wings arent actually that sensitive, Rhysand and Cassian are just weirdos with a specific kink

This conversation Feyre and Rhys are having about his wings is so weird, its like dirty and yet uncomfortably clinical

oh Rhysand is quicker than death just fucking kill me, im getting so angry again

Syphons are called 'Trichtersteine' ['funnel stones' or 'funnel gems'] in german which is more accurate to how we're actually told they work imo but it sounds pretty lame

Is it just me or is Rhysand being kinda weirdly paranoid rn. I mean granted, they did just get attacked with ash arrows so maybe hes actually doing a good job for once and Im just biased against him

Okay so we finally get some night court fae wearing white, but of course its not for moon symbolism its so they can blend in with the rock of the mountain because this series does nothing but disappoint me

The Hewn City actually sounds really cool, why couldnt this have been the secret city where we spend most of our time, you couldve made it a whole thing about Feyre healing from her trauma UTM through like, exposure therapy or something idk. That wouldve been neat and dramatic, her healing from her UTM trauma in the place that inspired it with the person that inflicted it. I mean, maybe that would be less healthy and even more controversial than Feysand already is but then you could atleast lean into the dark romance of it

I mightve said this already but you knowwww sjm is NOT a painter and consulted ZERO painters because Ive never heard of anyone think about creating art the way feyre does

and Mor is wearing red AGAIN why would you make this a trigger for Feyre just go back and edit it out its not like it matters

God, the description of her outfit is so deeply discomfortingl like it literally is exactly what she wore while she was being drugged assaulted but atleast they left the bodypaint out this time

"[Keir] looked at my face, then my body. I had thought that he would stare and drool greedily but... there was nothing. No emotion. Just ice cold. Shaking internally, - from anger and revulsion - I followed Mor." Im sorry, is she mad that Keir doesnt find her hot????

Theres something uncomfortable about Feyre referring to Rhysand as 'Mor's Lord' especially when we just had a whole paragraph describing her as a proud and empowered queen

"Usually, one Syphon was enough for an Illyrian to to able to steer his urge to kill down the right path." what???

Now shes describing Azriel as dark and beautiful as death and oughhhhhh i knoww im the only who cares about this and its for a pretty stupid reason but I care a lot and it makes me very angry

Feyre referring to a 19 year old Mor as 'barely more than a child' is weirdddddd

of COURSE hes wearing a black tunic for this, I cant believe this is the guy that the fandom has designated the fashion lover when he has two (2) outfits

Feyre describing Rhysand as sooooo powerful and beautiful with a face of nightmares and dreams makes me want to vomit, but more importantly, it makes me yearn to rewatch the 1996 takarazuka star troupe production of Elisabeth with Asaji Saki as Death who unirionically fits all of Feyres descriptors 1000 times better

Not Rhysand using Feyres Cursebreaker title while hes thoroughly humiliating her

Now Feyre is calling him a god, bro youre not gonna be able to have sex if you jack him off this hard hes gonna be all sore

Imagine being a hewn city noble and you all get together because your high lord wants something from you and youre kinda scared because hes the worst, and then you just have to watch him finger some random lady. and you cant leave because then he'll just kill you

I dont like that this is framed as empowering to Feyre, i think its one thing to write a female character who sexualises herself in order to empower herself but the fact that Feyre is doing this at the behest of Rhys automatically renders it non-empowering to me. Like yeah, she obviously consented to this but it wasnt her idea but this was not her idea and this is not something she usually does, the only times shes been sexualized like this is because it was part of some plan that Rhysand came up with

"[Keir] apparently clung to the power. But Rhys was the power." i hate that that sentence made me think of Keir/Rhysand as a ship why am I so goddamn yaoi-brained. And yeah, i know theyre related but according to Rhys himself, he and Mor are only cousins in the most distant sense, so. Man, that would make the IC dynamics so much more fucked up but also so much funnier

Theyre trying so hard to make this hot n sexy but its just so unappealing and dragged out. Granted, sorry if this is TMI, but I did just jerk off so Im all out of horniness for the next little while so maybe I just dont like this because Im not in the mood but idk. theres something so annoying about this, i think its how over-the-top and artificial Rhysands hotness feels, not to mention the fact that he is absolutely not my type

Imagine being Keir rn, just trying to do your job and tell your high lord everything that he needs to know, meanwhile his high lord is sitting in front of him fondling his new sex slave and you just have to keep a straight face. i mean, he sucks ass so i guess he deserves it but man

Presented to you with no further comment: "My breasts became heavy and full, longing, desiring, just like my crotch."

goddamnit, Rhysand just said that he put Feyre on his leash and then Keir made a kinda slutshame-y remark about her clothes and then I thought Rhys was like "maybe I'll put you on a leash too" but it was Feyre who said that. another loss for big gay incest

"He liked this as little as I did" uhhhhh no offense girlie but you actually seem to be having a pretty great time rn

I dont even know what to say about this part where Feyre is like, detaching herself from her thoughts that are calling her a traitor a liar and a whore ?? I think thats whats happening here?? Like, its trying so hard to be sexy but its invoking the imagery of Feyre's (and even Rhysand's) trauma and its just very strange

It took Rhys a fucking eternity to actually touch her pussy

What if Keir developed a voyerism kink because of this. would that be fucked up or what

Its so weird how Feyre thinks about how maybe Rhysand doesnt like sex or being desirable anymore because of amarantha and that certainly sounds like a trauma response he should have but instead it just never matters

"I had been tortured and tormented but my pain was nothing compared to his." YOU DIED

Oh man I cant believe I completely forgot about the absolutely iconic part where Rhysand gets so mad Keir for calling the woman he introduced as a whore a whore that he telepathically breaks his hand about it

what was the point of doing that, Feyre didnt even seem to like it that much