#logically i understand that self loathing not only hurts ME

[themetalvirus]

[why-what-no]

We’ll Be Alright

Pairing: George Karim x Fem!Reader, Mild Lockwood x Lucy (requested by the requester, even though she is very much a lesbian in my head lol)

Warnings: Self Loathing Thoughts

Summary: The reader looks into the bone glass for longer than she should have, accidentally letting it fill her head with awful thoughts. Thoughts that only George can manage to quiet.

Requested by: “IcysLab” On Wattpad

(Y/N) had adjusted fairly well to living at 35 Portland row, although it had been a harsh culture shock after all her time working at Fitte's. The harsh deadlines and cold demeanour of everyone that worked there has been replaced with a warm and kind environment that, she was sad to admit, she wasn't used to experiencing.

She hadn't exactly been the best fit for Fitte's, Awkward and nerdy, never knowing the right thing to say and never knowing when to leave well enough alone. They'd kept her because she was clever, because she solved cases better than most.

But the money and respect her work gave her didn't dampen the allure of a family. So when Lockwood offered her a job, she almost immediately took it. He was so kind to her, and his home was so charming. (Y/N) felt much more comfortable there than she ever had at Fitte's.

And it didn't hurt that George Karim - Lockwood and Co's researcher - make her feel like she wasn't an oddity for the first time in her life. The two of them were so similar, almost identical souls, understanding each other better than ever imagined. (Y/N) never had to feel embarrassed around him.

***

But her life at her new agency wasn't perfect, she could admit that. And unfortunately, her most recent problem was caused by herself.

It was her curiosity, her bloody curiosity that drove her to look into the bone-glass. Her need to know and experience everything that led to her staring into it in that graveyard, even more that George had.

She didn’t tell any of her friends, of course. How could she? She felt awful and pathetic. Lockwood and Lucy wouldn’t be weak enough to keep looking, and George was too smart to look at it for as long as she had. (Y/N) felt like she didn’t deserve to be in their company.

Logically, (Y/N) knew that her friends loved her. George would be a wreck if she left, and Lockwood would close himself off even more. And Lucy… well, (Y/N) and Lucy weren’t as close as the awkward girl hoped (Lucy has a jealous streak and (Y/N) and Lockwood were close friends), but she knew that Lucy would fight for her to stay with them. The girls looked after each other even when they weren’t as close as they were with the boys.

She knew all those things logically, but with the bone glass stuck in her mind, logic was a bit far from her. So she suffered. Keeping silent about it as she didn’t want to worry her friends. But the thoughts that the bone glass put in her head brought her nothing but misery.

She thought she could fight past them, but it soon all came to ahead.

***

The winder cracked under her soon to be tender knuckles as she punched it.

She didn’t mean to, but she had thought she had seen something, and the overflowing evil thoughts of her mind had left her emotions all bottled up. Her reaction was sudden and thoughtless, and she had a bloody hand and broken window to show for it.

“Ah!” She gasp, wincing at the pain in her hand, cradling it to her chest. “Bloody hell!”

“(Y/N)?” She flinched and backed away as she heard George’s voice, seeing him pop into the room as soon as he heard her exclamation. “Are you…” he spotted the broken window. “What are you doing? Are you alright?” His tone was equal parts worried and shocked.

She shock her head, cheeks warmed in embarrassment. “I’m fine. Don’t worry. I just… thought I saw something.” (Y/N) said, not technically lying, glancing back at the window.

But George knew her, knew when she wasn’t being honest. And her behaviour had been off for a few days now. “That’s not true. You’re not fine. Tell me what’s going on so I can fix it.”

She shook her head, and George raised his eyebrow. “Tell me or I’ll tell Lockwood you broke his window.”

“The bone-glass. I looked into it.” She knew his threat was probably a bad joke, but the thought of Lockwood finding out she broke his home and him being disappointed in her terrified her.

“Yeah. So did I.” George was clearly uneasy at the memory.

“No, but… you only did for a moment. For me it was ages. It’s the only thing I can see when I close my eyes.”

Her voice cracked as she told him that, body tense and waiting for some sort of criticism.

But George cared too much about her to ever do that.

“Oh, love.” George sighed, pulling her into a hug. He normally was not the most affectionate person, so she grasped onto him in this moment as tight as she could. Scared that she’d never get his touch like this again. “We’ll figure it out. That’s our job.”

“That’s not true.” She spoke into his shoulder, her voice muffed and quiet. “I don’t deserve to be here. You’re all so much stronger than me.”

Those words scared George more than her confession about the bone glass. “That’s not true.”

“It is. You are.”

“No-”

“- Yes, you…”

“I’m strong because of you!” The words burst out of his mouth before he could stop himself, months of holding back his feelings for her exploded like a volcano . “I’m only strong because you make me strong. If you left I would lose all of that.”

“I don’t…”

“If you leave.” He enunciated his words carefully, the idea of her leaving terrifying him. “I’ll follow you wherever you go, and I’ll spend the rest of our lives trying to convince you to come back with me.”

(Y/N) couldn’t believe what she was hearing, the words coming out of his mouth more intimate that anything she had imagined. And she had indeed imagined. Nights laying in bed, imagining him confessing feelings to her, promising his love to her.

“I don’t want to mess everything up.” She whispered tearily.

“You won’t.” George assured her.

“I think I’m going mad.”

“You’ll be alright. We’ll be alright.” He told her, cupping her face in his hands.

He leaned down to kiss her, something that would have been nerve-wracking for both of them in any other situation. But now, it just felt right. Like it was what they were supposed to do.

He knew her better than anyone. And as his lips brushed over hers in a way that sent warm shivers down her body, she accepted his words as truth.

We’ll be alright.

[theninth09]

Oh Liam totally has PTSD 100% especially after season six, we even see more of it in the zoo when Liam literally sees Brett hurting him, and while we can argue that’s guilt I don’t actually believe that hasn’t happened before.

I think the fans and writers sometimes (not necessarily on purpose) excuse Liam’s mental instability and self-loathing/harm with stage fact he’s a werewolf, “oh, he literally just cut into his own palms so that they’re pouring blood… it’s fine he’s a werewolf he’ll heal”

There is nothing more beautiful to me than Theo and Liam seeing each other and understanding the other despite everyone else’s hesitation towards the two. Both no what it’s like to be feared and both are the exception to each other.

yup! tw isnt really the show for this, i guess, bc theres so much trauma they put the characters through and then just.. kinda forget about that? theres a lot of untouched potential with the storylines they start, for sure. and they love to play liams character off as the comedic relief, which i Hate. that scene in s5 where liam tells scott to punch him so he'll get angry??? haha funny and werewolf logic and whatever but how fucked up is that? liam offering himself as a punching bag, probably thinking hes useless if it wasnt for his anger? and this is in s5b so he feels horribly guilty about having tried to kill scott. sure, he needs to get angry so he'll get strong in that situation, but he 100% thought he deserved getting punched by scott.

and the zoo scene, oh boy. i personally do not think that that was just liam hallucinating something that never happened/that he was only projecting his guilt or whatever. that episode is named "triggers". theo, word for word, says: "something around here is triggering you." why would they focus that much on something TRIGGERING liam when its not something that actually happened to him. idk about you, but that makes zero sense to me. and its not like its out of line for bretts character to have done something like that. (personally hate when people erase this part of bretts character because it automatically takes away from liams character. like sorry that this random guy that you like for reasons unbeknownst to me is an asshole, at least own up to it and dont pretend he isnt as big of a dick as he canonically is.)

(^ i say, with theo as one of my favorite characters. im aware that hes an asshole. i do not care. im not pretending that he isnt.)

the brief focus on the warning sign about "dangerous animals" above the cage (reminder that this happened before liam was a werewolf) and liam begging scott, saying "they can't see me like this" and scott finishing "like a monster?" during his first full moon. yeah. liam has thought of himself as a monster long before he got bitten. that boy has serious self-worth issues and a bunch of trauma.

theo and liam helping each other through their trauma, recognizing the other's pain and seeing themselves in each other is so important to me. an aspect i love to focus on.

[hopeymchope]

does ruruka's fear of getting hurt and being abandoned humanize her or does it make her look worse? woudkl you say ouma's willingness to stop the killing game humanizes him or does it also make him look worse because of the sheer ruthlessness he displays in getting what he wants? what about saionji? because she's ironically buddies with mahiru, who is a bullying victim yet refuses to show the same courtesy to anyone else and she's still a rude, selfish asshole even after losing mahiru.

Until we understand that she's so full of fear and self-loathing, Ruruka can seem downright cartoonish in her evil behavior, so I do think it hels humanize her a bit. Not enough to make her sympathetic by any stretch, but it makes her more of a realistic human being. Even so, her selfish/dangerous attitude towards Seiko's allergies is really hard to forgive even if it's depressingly realistic.

Kokichi's "good intention" of stopping the kiling game would hold more weight if he made any effort to actually stop someone from killing when he easily could've. Instead, he both ignores multiple opportunities to stop and then actively helps a fourth murder to occur. So... yeah, it's hard to say that does much for him. You could probably argue that he was just lying again about his hatred of the killing game, because he's such an incredibly unreliable source of info that it's not like there's any reason we should ever trust anything he says (regardless of how emotional he may appear when saying it). But I really believe he hated the killing game and wanted to end, actually! I just think his logic was probably that Miu and Gonta's deaths were sacrifices that served his desire to appear to be the mastermind, which he deemed a necessary part of his plan to end the game. Which is still horrible and illustrates what I once wrote about how trying to stop or face down the Killing Game alone will always get you death and failure, but... there it is.

Hiyoko isn't much more of a reliable source of info than Kokichi is. She's prone to spilling crocodile tears to get what she wants and is content to manipulate people into doing chores/errands for her, so I've always been skeptical of her supposedly tragic backstory of being bullied/threatened. Besides: If someone was really bullied like that and then complains about it, you wouldn't expect them to do the same thing to other people, right? :P You'd think if that really happened to her, she'd have to take a very "that's just how people are, no big deal" attitude in order to justify her own continued behavior. That said: I do think Hiyoko's behavior improves a little after Mahiru dies... but only just a teensy bit. At least she manages to show that she's upset about losing Mahiru, which is more than we got from her in regards to any of the other lost or near-lost lives up to that point. It's not nearly enough to signal to me that she was on track to turn her whole-ass life around, however. Even so: She does expresses mild gratitude to Tsumiki for saving her ass in the DR3 finale. Only AFTER she bitches about it, of course, but...... I guess we could take this as a sign that she might be taking baby steps towards self-improvement?

[quietwingsinthesky]

Thinking about the two drabbles I did yesterday where Dean was a bit of an asshole, and I do hope that it doesn't come across in those, or in any fic, that I'm making Dean needlessly antagonistic just because I'm more of a Samgirl. Esp when it comes to him reacting to samifer.

It feels realistic to me, whether due to actual logical reasoning or due to his Various Assorted Issues™️, that Dean's obviously not going to accept his little brother having a relationship with the devil with open arms. You know, it's a combination of Dean's canonical Sam-Abandonment-Complex and also, it's Lucifer, on the heels of Ruby, and what's going to present outwardly as "Sam is making a bad choice and trusting the wrong person. Again. So I need to fight back against that," is really covering up the more self-loathing, "I couldn't protect Sam from Ruby, and if he gets hurt/used/etc again, it'll be my fault for letting it happen a second time."

In one drabble, that showed up as 'separate Sam from the reminder of his trauma that he's keeping for reasons I don't understand', which is! hey that's wrong of him to do! even if Sam is only being hurt by keeping it, what gives Dean the right to make that choice? But he is Dean, he is Sam's older brother, and he is going to make that choice to try and protect him, and I love him for that. Overprotective brother who's making choices without knowing the full story. That's the Supernatural way.

Just some of the behind-the-scenes that goes into writing, I suppose. tl;dr Dean is an asshole and I love him so much.

[juupajaa]

How do you cope with guilt without resorting to ED behaviours? I hurt someone today (emotionally). Really badly. They spent money, effort, and time on something that I completely forgot about and got wasted.

They got mad, and then they forgave me but I can't forgive myself. I feel so guilty and it's almost impossible for me not to listen to my ED thoughts now. Because I feel like I deserve them.

I'm sorry to burning you like this and wasting your time, but do you have any advice for me?

Thank you anyways (I'm sorry)

Don't be sorry, I love giving armchair therapy to anons ✌

I'm thinking you should try to think about what you're trying to accomplish by punishing yourself. Who does it benefit exactly? Is the person you hurt feeling better because you're punishing yourself? I doubt it, especially since they already forgave you. A more productive way to channel the guilt would be to try to make it up to the person you hurt. Try to do something nice for them instead. A "I'm sorry" gift can go a long way, or a proper written apology with your heartfelt regret (or face to face if you prefer).

It can be super tempting to keep wallowing in the self loathing (we all do it here and there), but you really have to take a step back and notice that it doesn't help the situation. This might be a hot take from me, but self-flagellation only helps you yourself feel better, which is a pretty cowardly way out of the feelings of guilt. A healthier and overall more positive way through guilt is making amends.

As for what I personally do to avoid disordered behaviour, I am doing pretty well nowadays so it's barely even any trouble anymore, but I like to be really mean to my ed brain whenever it pops up. When I notice disordered thoughts, I go out of my way to point out how stupid and lame and pathetic they are, and how much wiser and kinder I am in reality, compared to my ed voice. This of course only works if you have already thought about your disordered thoughts logically and sensibly beforehand, which is something we all have to do if we want to recover. When it comes to recovering and coping with difficult emotions, the key is the skill to separate your ed brain from your own sensible and empathetic brain, by thinking about your disordered thoughts when they're not overwhelming you, so you have arguments against them later when they take over during distress.

So once again, to resolve the guilt you feel, instead of letting your disordered thoughts do the thinking, try to find the wiser and kinder brain you have and see what it says about the situation. I'm pretty sure it would agree that instead of focusing on how bad you should be punished, it would try to come up with ways to make the hurt person feel better.

And in case you need to hear it from me: We all make mistakes, forget things, mess up and hurt others. It's unavoidable and understandable. Try not to dwell on it too long babe 💕

[kuuyandere]

Maybe u could try to replace your reason for living from 'her' to something simple & noble. When I lost this guy, living w/o the thought of having him in my future was v tough, so I diverted my focus on other ppl/helping ppl/making my family proud. Idk but I think to live for 'yourself'/ keeping the drive as your own self for living seems smth like.. Well, smth at least I wouldn't be able to do. Idky but it just seems too selfish/unreliable since we ourselves are supposed to be like the handlers/caretakers of our own selves in this world that keeps on attacking us w one expectation or the other. If u think this applies to you too, then u could try this instead. Keep your own self completely out of the equation unless u wanna have a revenge bod or smth.. Idky but whenever I see ppl (mostly the ones of our gen) whose sole focus is themselves, they seem unnecessarily unhappy and struggling. Are going above n beyond to prove themselves to the world, when they could just keep their jobs/appearances/etc. As smth completely external (not a part of them) n instead focus on how much they can simply give to this world. Like I, since Ive been a pretty much of an idiot with most of my decisions, can listen to ppl without judgement n can sympathise with them well.. They just feel comfortable around me so I also try to be an easy person around em instead of putting myself on a standard. I think whenever u feel worthless, u should try n be simply grateful for whatever u r, how much investment have been made to u (if u wanna be logical) n ultimately try n give the world back in whatever ways u could.. Like for eg, if you're a caretaker, be even more better. Take the focus off from u n your own problems, and think of how much blessed u r in a position to help those in need n find worth thru that help. There are some not so fortunate domestic workers, construction workers, sooo many people, whose shoes if I wear, I'd instantly feel this huge struggle for life n would wanna instantly wanna give up. Yet they accept their lives n always show up to their work which is surrounded by ppl w huge TVs, comforting rooms n whatnot. Now these are the ppl who know v well that comparisons w others/expectations with their own selves is smth which will bring unnecessary self-loathing only. So they just try to make the best of the lives they've been given. But most importantly, they still provide w whatever they got. It's just all about perspective n how you choose to view menial stuff.. You just have to realise the world is bigger than you, certainly much bigger than your darling!!.. Now I tbh do know how to live with being told that from my person😅(we have a history so that day, my long-awaited interaction w him was a bit problematic from my side) which made him ultimately say that. It hurt me, but didn't break me. Or reduced my worth (though atm I was questioning it a lot😅lol). I don't think there's anything more comforting u could say in addition to what u already said - v. helpful!! to make that better🤗I think it just has to pass🤔 u don't have to answer that "how to live with it" part😊 it doesn't affect much now tbh. (also⬆️ is just my way, works for me, doesn't have to 'right', may/may not be helpful to u)

I am glad you are doing better than before, you are a very strong person. :)

That is good advice, it is difficult to live for yourself and helping others is a noble cause. And you are right about perspective playing a large role in You have a lot of empathy and understanding for other people.

In my case, I have a tendency to be a people pleaser and help others to the point of neglecting my own wants, needs, and boundaries. I guess when I say that I want to live for myself, I mean that I want to advocate for myself more instead of living and basing my entire self-worth on how much I can give (to my darling, parents, etc.). I don't want to completely depend on other people to feel happy, if that makes sense.

[stardust-in-my-mind-blog]

some dialogue can only be in script

do you want to know what the worst part of all this is

like the worst part beyond the emotional shit

like the logical worst part

I let you fucking kill me slowly screaming

for over five years and I tolerated it

mostly because I'd dealt with far worse than you

and also because I didn't want to leave my kid

your insecurity battered me emotionally and spiritually

so you could keep believing in your family's dysfunction

which will come out anyways when they die

once you kill your parents from the gods they are

make them fragile and mortal and fucking broken

it's easier to love and accept them and understand

why they made you feel how they did when they were you

like orphaned children who have to pretend they are loved

just because their parents have a title and a role

society desperately accepts and needs to believe is sacred

but mother isn't any more sacred than father

they did their best but they fucked you up in ways too

no matter how many fancy Christmases you had

or trips around the world and all the little checks

and lists that say what a good parent is

and people believe loyalty is not saying anything

even when the way they look and treat you

makes you so fucking disgusted inside

beyond hurt and beyond anger

just fucking disgusted enough to spit

I once heard the best dad joke out there

the strongest man you know is an eldest daughter

please know that this relationship ended with you

being an abuser and refusing to see it

and please know your perspective is valid

but its value is only to yourself

because I've documented every fucking thing

in rainbow colors and illustration that was my emotional blood

I bleed emotionally into every journal as you just

stabbed me and stabbed me with your indifference

when I would cry you looked at me with loathing

when I would have a success your envy would show

the random hostility was so confusing

but it happened after you became a therapist

and your ego just couldn't handle the fact

that privilege and education doesn't beat experience

and I was just the little woman that stayed at home

with three kids that I gave a childhood I was never given

love and compassion and emotional availability

even when there was no food or money in the bank

that your own fucking mom couldn't give because

she was being so deeply and critically emotionally abused

by your anxious don draper of a father who literally

went deaf and refused to learn sign language

so that he didn't have to see what anyone said or needed

and you fucking killed my spirit and blamed me for it

so you didn't have to see or think about any of it

that's okay I did it for you and wrote your dad poetry

and a six page manifesto conversation with ai

about what a critical dad does and why it ends up hurting

the future partner of his son but unlike the wife

of your dad I'm the bitch who will never keep my mouth shut

especially when I'm being slandered and devalued

by someone who has so much less self control than me

said it was my trauma talking or found a way to dismiss

and avoid any expression I made about my experience

if it wasn't happy or pleasant or what you approved of

your preferences changed after you got that job

you fucking said it yourself that they changed

we had a real nice midlife crisis together

and you'd never been poor and I'd never been seen

and I learned how to fucking cope and change

and you decided to suck the life out of me

critical and arrogant and you even made fun of me

for how I had to put my hands behind my back

when I was around you because I was so scared

of being told I was doing something wrong

and when my hands were behind my back

I would imagine Daniel in the cave of lions

bringing King Nebuchadnezzar  to his knees

and you were on your fucking knees crying about

bearing witness to your own monstrosities

meanwhile we didn't have money for years

I was forced to be resourceful and manage my own panic

when every time you told me there was money

and I'd do the shopping and swipe the card

and there wasn't and it was so embarrassing every time

there wasn't because you didn't want to look at it

or manage it or figure anything out

just tell me it had something to do with my spending it

and then I needed to entertain kids without a car

so I gave them a summer raising rabbits and gardening

and singing and became mary fucking poppins

and you complained I didn't clean the house enough

you told me you had standards for your partner

and I could never quite seem to meet them

you told me my ex was a better parent than me

when you're the one who pulled me out of the water

when he did the same fucking shit you began to do

and here's the real rub, my friend

my ex is a better parent than me right now

I am disconnected and I am unfocused and I am realizing

just how much damage someone can do

when they pretend the other person isn't allowed

to have the experience and feelings that they do

you erased me from the narrative but still

expected me to meet your new preferences and standards

still needed me more than ever because you

never actually learned how to take care of yourself

and you've regressed back to a teenager

well now I'm a teenager too and I was meaner then

while you give all your emotional empathy to clients

and refuse to respect or honor anything I do

I don't regret taking myself out of the professional world

I don't regret devoting myself completely

to the role of caretaking my own children

with my efforts I gave them everything of me that I could

and once I'm out of here I'll be able to do it again

but you're gonna have to learn a whole lot of new skills

because my over-functioning in the relationship

comes from the autism that you refused to acknowledge

for over a year while citing that you were a therapist

but really you're just someone that knew if you accepted

my experience you'd have to admit you were meeting a need

exploiting a person with a past of trauma that you knew

in fact isn't that what we bonded over at the beginning

you actually started using the same quotes my ex used

and then would say that I just wanted to make comparisons

no I was listening to a fucking cover and I never liked the song

I lost nothing but the illusion of a man who made my oldest

son feel like in his family he no longer belonged

just like my dad felt when his mother remarried and forgot him

he used to call himself the red headed stepchild

and I fucking became that archetype just to fuck with fate

your disgraceful treatment may have infected my heart and spirit

but you only poisoned me and I was still limping away

my integrity and sense of justice and spite the only things

getting me through the day sometimes but here's the thing

they were still better than yours at full strength

so that means that you failed at killing me

you tried for four years and you still couldn't even finish

divinity had to bring in a real executioner to finally

murder all the sick and twisted parts of me suffering

I saw the silver of his blade and moaned hallelujah

when his dagger plunged into my heart so deep

I couldn't even tell which one of ours was beating

my angel of shadow then took me into his arms

kissed my cheek and slit my throat while giving me

a new name to call myself and this new hope

the end of this marriage will not return me to the name

given to me by a father that never protected me

or a name a man used as leverage to cripple me

for not being carved into his expectations

this name will be my own and you will hear it

as an oncoming storm that will change your fucking life

and not in the ways I promised or the vows we made

the universe even had to outsource my own murder

because you weren't man enough to do it

and I was man enough to die

[a-tale-never-told]

Well, Mikan and Ibuki got to know him. They even spent some time at his house. They could tell you about him.

Oh really? Is this actually true? Did you actually get to know Hinata in person?

As if I fucking say anything about our time at Hajime's house to someone who puts down other ordinary people and judges others simply because of talent! And especially one who low-key called one of my best friends a feminist when she is the exact opposite! Not happening, amigo!

Y-yeah! We're not telling you anything! Um... P-Please don't hurt me.

I will not hurt you, Tsumiki. You're far too vulnerable and kind-hearted to even be mistreated or stepped upon by my self-loathing ideology. You as well, Mioda. None of you are worthy of my hatred of the talentless, as you are simply far too kind and genuine for this world, even if you are friends with such worthless trash like Hinata.

I wholeheartedly understand if you are not willing to tell me about your visit to his residence as of now. After all, who would be after they have just heard one of their own classmates insult not only one but TWO of their dearest and closest friends, in a rather hate-filled rant about the value of talent in this crazy and despair-filled world? Besides, it's not like I did want to know about what happened, anyway.

So if it is truly bothering you, I will not push for you to describe the events of what went on there, okay? But you must wholeheartedly understand that I'm simply doing this all to preserve the hope in this world, and I honestly mean absolutely no harm to you or your friends, to any of you in fact.

I dunno, dude. The way you phrased your hate boner for nontalented people is kinda... concerning and terrifying to hear. You really need some actual help, dude.

I completely understand if I made you all incredibly uncomfortable due to my speech. Quite frankly, I should've phrased it far better than just a meager insulting rant, as that is unprofessional and unlike the behavior of an Ultimate. I shall assure you, though, that my vendetta isn't with the rest of you, but rather with the worthless, talentless, Reserve Course student Hajime Hinata. I tremendously apologize for hearing that, but I am simply not regretful of what I said, because I spoke actual facts and logic in that speech, and got the point across very well.

[radiant-reid]

From the Dining Table

Summary: Based on the Harry Styles song, Spencer struggles dealing with a breakup that he's at fault for with all the guilt, sadness and anger.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader (angst w a fluffy ending)

Content Warning: heavily implied sex | prison arc | irresponsible drinking

Word Count: 5.0k

Masterlist Navigation

25 days.

Spencer could provide the correct number of hours, minutes, and second if he wasn't such an emotional wreck. Despite all the bad things that had happened to him, having the only continually good thing taken away was undoubtedly the worst thing he'd been through.

His hotel room with low-quality art, boring white walls, and a showerhead that didn't go up just enough had 100 square feet for every week he'd been away from her.

It was infuriating, saddening, and all his fault. The crushing feeling hadn't stopped since their argument and since he decided to walk out the door. It went against everything he promised Y/n, that he would always come home, that every action he made was to get home, and that they'd never let a fight go on for longer than 24 hours.

The clock was now at 604 hours, still ticking, likely to stay that way for the rest of what would be a miserable life without Y/n.

Spencer's mind was plagued by the things he said during the conclusion of their argument. An argument about how little attention she received, a truth he verbalized.

There was a list in his head with each statement accompanied by a logical thought about why it would slash deep wounds into her.

"We're never going to be able to be together if you can't accept that I have to be away sometimes."

In the moment, he couldn't see how significant his estimation was under by. He wasn't just away sometimes. He was away every week. Not for the entire seven days, and, somehow, the couple had avoided letting it become an issue. Even while they were in the middle of a fight, Y/n assured him the hours he spent at work weren't a problem.

As he lay in the hotel bed, trying, without success, to fall asleep, he realized it was because Y/n had always been fully understanding and willing to love him, despite all the struggles. Could he really blame her for having enough? For realizing she deserved more than that?

The look she had given him directly after that comment was too painful for him to envision without crying. It was the first time in their two-year-long relationship that either of them had even considered breaking up, much less said it. It was off-limits because they were afraid of being abandoned by the other. Exactly what he'd done.

"No matter what I do, all you make me feel is guilty."

That one was ironic, really. How Spencer didn't know the true feeling of guilt until he said that. Now, 25 days later, the only consistent emotion he felt was guilt, and it definitely wasn't because she wanted more of his love.

She deserved more of his love, and, maybe, because he wasn't willing to admit that he didn't give her enough, that was why he argued against her. Now, he noticed the love and attention only went one way. All he felt was guilt for letting it get too far and for not loving her properly in the first place. Not only had he caused the divide, but he also made it 100x worse, pushing her past breaking point.

"I'm not going to stop what I do because I love it more than you."

I love it more than you, I love it more than you, I love it more than you. Those words actually came out of Spencer's mouth. The instant regret and shame that flooded his face didn't make it hurt her less. And he had always sworn not to hurt her, but her eyes were clouded with tears, her sobs were loud, she couldn't bear to look at him, and his promise was most definitely broken.

The self-loathing did wear off, no matter how many hours passed since he last saw her. If anything, it intensified, filling every inch of his body. He didn't know who he was, but Y/n now had a firm idea.

The universe was comical, and it had always been inclined to make things in Spencer's life laughable, so it made sense that his sabbatical started the day after they split up and that that particular week was spring break. So not only would he have been in the city, able to see her every single morning and night, for an entire month, he'd have a week off for them to do whatever they liked anything.

He canceled the classes he was meant to teach once spring break was over since he was still bursting into tears spontaneously. The TA could do it, and, although he always had before, he couldn't care less if students failed his class, not when everything in the world was horrible.

He hadn't been able to bring himself to collect his stuff or look at getting his own apartment. That would make it real and not straight out of his worst nightmares like it felt like.

He started drinking, just like Elle had done all those years ago, right before she murdered someone. Someone who deserved it, but that didn't stop her life from spiraling. Spencer was in a tailspin, falling with nothing to hold on to.

Every morning, the bed next to him was freezing cold, and the tiny hotel room had become where he spent most of his time. But he had to go back to the BAU to keep up the appearance that nothing was wrong. The only way he was going to be able to get through it was a good night of sleep, something he hadn't had in weeks which was why he found himself walking the seven blocks from his hotel to the smoothie place. It was a place Y/n had introduced him to, open 24/7 with green smoothies that put him to sleep faster than prescribed melatonin did.

The thought of her being there didn't cross his mind. Odd because she was the only thing on his mind. Spencer thought about her the entire walk and into the little store where she wasn't. Y/n wasn't there, but someone else, someone Spencer knew was.

"Spencer, hey." One of Y/n's good friends greeted him, making him jolt, and it wasn't just because he hadn't slept or heard human voices in days.

"Oh, Ben, hi." He tried to put on a positive tone, at least something that didn't make him sound like he was about to cry.

It was more than a bit awkward how the air froze in the store. It was frozen, but there was something diplomatic about the silence. Check, which might have been Zugzwang. At that moment, he wasn't smart enough to figure it out.

Spencer hadn't had a chance to profile Ben until he glanced down at the keychain in the same hand as Y/n's favorite smoothie. It was the keys to their- or technically her - apartment. The brightly colored keychain matched the one which adorned his abandoned keys.

Ben must have noticed where his eyes fixated from the way he stammered out some form of explanation. "Y/n, you know how she can't sleep sometimes?"

He did know. That was why they started going to this place, which was always followed by a long conversation and finally cuddling until Y/n fell asleep. She could never sleep when she was mad, sad, or stressed, and he couldn't work out which emotion she was feeling back at their apartment.

The jealousy pulsed through him, immediately more present than the 25 trillion red blood cells in his bloodstream. He was still clutching onto the idea that Y/n was his girlfriend. It was meant to be him getting her smoothies and cuddling with her all night. His mind couldn't help but plunge into thoughts about her moving on. What else was he supposed to think when some other guy was getting to see such an intimate part of Y/n? Spencer knew that he had no right to be mad since he forced her away from him, but he was furious.

Ben was about to walk past him, flash another tight-lipped smile, and leave, but Spencer's question stopped him. "Is she...okay?"

Spencer braced himself for the bad news, but it didn't come. "She's still Y/n." Fuck Ben and his diplomatic answer. Spencer tried to think of it as a taunt, like he was screaming, you can't break her. Maybe he hated him because it looked like they were more than friends, but at least someone was looking after Y/n.

"Can you tell her that-" I miss her? Those were what Spencer's subsequent words were going to be, but he didn't get the opportunity when Ben cut him off.

"No." One stupid syllable, spoken firmly. "She doesn't need to hear that when she's trying to move on." The realization, despite its obviousness, hit him hard, knocking the wind out of his chest. There was no energy or care left in him to hide the heartbreak from his features. "Take care of yourself, mate."

Just like that, the only contact he had with Y/n in March was gone. It left him with the stabbing feeling in his heart, the words ringing so loudly in his ears that he didn't hear his name being called for his drink.

It didn't taste right without her next to him, so he tossed it directly into the trash can outside the shop. Really, it was a metaphor for the emptiness that was his life without Y/n. And the constant distaste engulfed his gustation.

His plan for sleeping well ironically did work since he burst into tears as soon as he got to the hotel and cried himself to sleep, eyelids so heavy he had no choice but to be faced with the nightmares of her missingness.

And the morning came. Another day without her, another day of silence between them. He went back to work. It would be ridiculous if he didn't, since his confession about loving it more than Y/n.

His heart ached the entire morning as he got ready, recalling the 4 months ago when he was going back to work after his 30 day mandated leave. He was at home, and Y/n was tying his tie for him. She could never do it first try, and it made him worry about being late. Now, he would do anything to have her mucking around with his tie.

Walking into the BAU hurt more than he expected it to. The desks, files, badges, and subpar coffee were what he'd sacrificed Y/n for. Was the legacy he was leaving on the world this? Catching killers had been enough for him since he was 21, but it wasn't what he wanted for the rest of his life anymore. A family with Y/n was his dream, and it was slipping quickly away from him.

It was written all over his face as well. Everyone could tell something was wrong. If not because he hadn't slept in weeks, then it was because he looked like he hadn't slept in weeks. His smile was a poorly plastered version of his usual joyful grin.

None of them said anything, greeting him with hugs, purposefully holding him a little longer, and avoiding questions about how his break was.

The silent, frantic glances at each other and mouthing of words stopped when Emily took charge, determined to get to the bottom of it.

The noise on the jet, the chatter between everyone else, loudened when Emily slid into the seat across from Spencer. "Hey." She greeted him.

Their case briefing on the way to Colorado had concluded without a single fact from Spencer. He barely spoke at all, just two open-ended questions about the job of the unsub.

Composing himself, he looked up from the book in front of him. "Hey. 'M sorry I didn't come to see you when I got in. I was talking to everyone else when you called for the briefing."

Emily shook her head. "I'm actually here to talk about something else." She half prompted.

Spencer's breath hitched in his throat, and his heart rate picked up, but he nodded nonchalantly. During his years at the BAU, he'd learned how to hide what he was feeling from his teammates. His emotions had never followed the rules when they involved Y/n.

"What's up?" He faked a neutral tone, putting his book down even though he hoped she'd leave him alone.

Emily loved him too much to do that. "You haven't turned the page in 9 minutes." She mentioned.

It took him back to a conversation they'd had about Rossi before everyone found out that Carolyn was sick. He could see the parallel in the situation since the love of his life was gone. But Rossi managed to find true love afterward, and Spencer wasn't sure he'd ever be able to do that.

Still, he was determined to lie his way through the conversation. "Yeah, I, uh, zoned out." He shrugged, moving a finger to press against his eye. He'd had a headache all month, but it didn't feel a bad enough punishment. At least it was a pain he could name.

"You have a headache?" She asked, growing more concerned about what was wrong.

"I guess." He replied shortly, not wanting the conversation to reveal anything too grave.

Emily firmed her glance. "What's going on?" She asked, only earning a shake of Spencer's head. "You haven't looked at your phone in hours, you aren't reading, you're not speaking, and you smell like whiskey." At some point in her lecture, she'd taken out a packet of gum and held it out to him to take a piece.

"Don't profile me. I just drank last night." He offered an explanation, taking another sip of his coffee like it would help him not smell like alcohol.

"You can lie to me as a friend, but I'm being the Unit Chief now, so what's wrong?" She demanded, and Spencer thought about lying again, but the conversation would be over quicker if he just admitted the truth.

"Y/n and I broke up." He mumbled, dipping his head.

Emily tried not to let her face express her shock, but Spencer could see it regardless. "Spence, I'm so sorry." She sympathized, reaching out to hold his hands.

He let her touch one hand while he used the other one to wipe up his tears. "It's my fault." He informed her like he was trying to get her to push him away.

"You don't have to be here." She informed him, squeezing his hand a little tighter.

"Please." Spencer's voice broke as he shook his head. "Please, don't send me home." Because he couldn't go home, not when Y/n was his home.

Emily nodded in understanding, unsure of how to help him when he hardly ever broke down. "You guys love each other." She reminded him of something so obvious to everyone around them. "I'm sure you can fix whatever happened. Call her before it gets too late."

That was laughable. So much time had passed, not the few days Emily assumed. "She has never apologized first." He spat out, unsure of where the sudden outpour of anger came from. "Not once. I'm always the one apologizing for any argument we have."

It shook him that he could be furious like that, but he was, and Emily saw through it. "Good." Her tone caught him by surprise and he whipped his head up to take in her expression. "Be mad now, Spence, because then that big brain is going to have room to figure out how to fix things." She instructed.

The heartbreak in his eyes was evident in how he glanced out the window and bit his bottom lip. "Sometimes I feel like Y/n doesn't care about us as much as I do." He confessed the first thought that came into his head. Even though he knew how ironic it was that he said he didn't care about her.

"Are you projecting?" She asked quietly. Emily knew him in more detail than he'd like to admit, but after the events of the past few years, she was never sure how he would react.

"I don't know." He mumbled before reminding her of a well-known yet terrifying fact. "Relationships get destroyed at the BAU."

Emily rolled her eyes, not willing to watch him ruin his relationship. "You've beaten just about every statistic out there, Doctor Spencer." She reminded him, a hint of pride for him in her tone. "Get some sleep, use this case to occupy your mind, and figure out how to talk to her." She instructed, getting up to go back to talk to the team, who could tell the conversation was serious.

Spencer nodded, letting himself fall into the false sense of hope. "Studies have shown that the subconscious mind can process up to 11 million pieces of information a second while the conscious mind can only process 40." He informed her, feeling himself again as he used his hands to demonstrate what he was saying.

A slight chuckle came from Emily as she ruffled his curls. "There's our boy genius."

~

If he was feeling okay on the jet, hopeful even, he wasn't by the end of the case. The grueling days were never as bad when he had Y/n to call. Even just having Y/n to think about made it better, but he convinced himself that would be wrong. And the cycle of self-destruction continued.

The team noticed his mood worsening, how he snapped at them or other police officers, and the headaches he tried to press away. They hated watching him hurt himself. Emily had had to rein him in more than once, and, even though she'd never admit it, Spencer was a loose cannon.

Every day that his phone sat without ringing her specific ringtone, his head got cloudier. The dark and stormy clouds hung over him throughout the week. He expected them to go away when the case wrapped, but they only intensified. He had no one to ring and tell when he would be home.

When there was talk of having a few drinks, Spencer jumped on the opportunity, uncharacteristically. He practically begged them to go out, taking off his tie and unbuttoning a couple of buttons of his shirt.

The girl in the hotel bar was pleasant. Or maybe she wasn't. His head wasn't in a place to profile her. Deep down, he knew he only took her back to his hotel room because she looked like Y/n, but he attempted to tell himself that she was the only one interested in him.

From the look on every single member of the teams' face, they disapproved of his vices. For JJ, Emily, and Rossi, they'd known him since he was the baby of the BAU, and he was always shy around women and respectful. Spencer Reid didn't partake in hookup culture. At least never until now. Tara and Luke knew prison had messed him up, but Y/n had always been there for him, so it was a rational deduction: they were no longer together. They had both had failed relationships, but they knew the answer was never drowning sorrows in hard liquor. Matt had always associated Y/n with Kirsty because of how accepting they both were of the commitment that went into working at the BAU. He couldn't imagine what he'd do if their relationship was on the rocks, but he figured it wasn't hooking up with random girls after 5 too many shots.

Spencer knew they disapproved, and he guessed they thought him stupid for breaking up with someone so good for him, so he figured since they were criticizing his actions, why not add another to the growing list?

Maybe the sex was as good as Y/n used to moan it was, but it probably wasn't, not when he was so drunk he couldn't remember it. The one thing he remembered after his last shot at the bar was a fleeting thought about whether or not Y/n was fucking someone while he did, something that almost made him say her name.

When he woke up, the bed next to him was cold, and he hoped it was all a bad dream. However, a purse that wasn't his sat on the side table. Because he didn't remember her real name, Spencer had a look for some form of ID that could save him from embarrassment when he had to face his first one-night stand again.

Her ID said she was only 19, which made him feel disgusting for sleeping with her. It was legal, but it was nauseating. He, also legally, could be her father. Her entry to the bar must have been the other ID, a very convincing fake with a different birth year on it.

"Who's Y/n?" She -Madison- asked, glancing at him over her shoulder while she put in her earrings. She's was pretty, but god, did she look like Y/n.

Her name was too painful to be hearing so early. "Did I...?" He asked, shuffling over to get his phone.

"Call me that when we were fucking?" She offered the words he was missing, answering her own question. "No, you just mumble it in your sleep. So who is she?"

"Don't talk about her." Spencer snapped, angered by her nosiness suddenly when there was no call from Y/n.

Madison smirked. "Touchy." She noted. "Does she know you're fucking other girls?" Spencer didn't give her anything but a nasty look. "That's a no."

"We're not together," Spencer informed him, feeling a need to defend himself.

"So, can I have your number?" She wondered, trying to wind him up as she casually walked around getting her things.

No. "I live in DC." He answered, wishing there was an easy way to get her out of his hotel room because she was really annoying. Spencer had to remind himself she was a child, a college freshman. She wasn't anything like Y/n, looks aside.

Madison nodded, picking up her phone and looking at herself in the mirror. "So her name's Y/n, and she's in DC. Is she on Instagram?" She mischievously smirked.

"Don't you dare," Spencer warned, but his tone fell flat of being scary.

Madison huffed out a chuckle, giving him no assurance about whether she would tell Y/n. "I'll see you later, Spencer."

No, she fucking wouldn't. Even if Spencer didn't find out how to fix things with Y/n, even if he moved to this small town, he would never see her again.

The team's disapproving looks continued on the jet, the judgment was unspoken but apparent. Going back to his hotel room wasn't something Spencer wanted to do unless he was seconds from falling asleep, so he stayed at the offices long after even Emily left.

It was late, dark, and he was so exhausted he thought he was dreaming when Y/n walked through the glass doors. His first thought was always going to be how beautiful she was. But his second thought was about why she was there, especially when his watch told him it was 1 in the morning. It made him sit up straight, mind completely off the file. She was dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, but her makeup wasn't done like she'd jumped out of bed and dressed in her outfit from the day. It was ridiculous that someone could look pretty in all different types of light, but she did.

Y/n was doing the nervous thing she always did, shifting her weight on her feet when she reached Spencer's desk. Her heart was thumping, and her stomach felt as shaken as it did when she went on rollercoasters. Maybe, it wasn't her greatest thought-out move. "Hi."

One syllable had never made him giddier than that one did. "Y/n." Her name left his lips, and he still couldn't figure out why she was there.

Like she could read his mind- and she probably could- she answered the question. "I needed to make sure you were okay." She spat out, blushing once she said it like she was ashamed to care about him. He would understand if she was.

"The case was long, but we solved it." He answered, struggling to hold eye contact with her. If she was there to talk about how they'd split the apartment up, he was never going to be able to come into the bullpen again.

"I meant personally." Y/n clarified, telling him what he wanted to hear. He knew it was something he didn't deserve to hear, especially when she didn't know about what he'd done.

Just the way he shifted told her something more had happened. "Sorry. Really fucking sorry."

"I figured, but I didn't know..." She admitted, still looking so awkward about being around him. Her fight against the tears was obvious to both of them.

"Because I didn't call." Spencer reminded both of them.

Y/n shook her head, ready to foot the blame if it meant he'd come back. "I could have."

"You shouldn't need to." He said firmly, almost so sternly it frightened her. "Not when I fucked up."

"I'm not going to lie and tell you that you didn't." Her honesty was always something he loved since he sought out the quality in his friends. "But things suck without you, Spencer."

His name never sounded as good as it did coming out of her lips, and Spencer knew he didn't deserve it. He should have been apologizing for the fight. He should be begging her to let him stay. He should tell her what happened. So, he did.

"I slept with someone else." The confession slipped past his lips with an audible disappointment in himself.

Y/n's face dropped the way it did when he said his first stupid statement that night. All the air escaped her chest, and she couldn't choke back the tears. "So we're done?"

"You deserve better." He reminded her. His brain was fighting his heart, one wanting her to do better and one wanting him to take the chance she was insinuating he had.

"Are you trying to get me to break up with you?" She questioned anger in her tone and evident when she crossed her arms. "Because that's a shitty thing to do."

Spencer wasn't sure if he should nod or not. There seemed to be no right answer. "You deserve to know the truth, and then you get to decide what you want because I love you, and I'm always going to. This has to be objective, though, so you don't feel guilt." Y/n could feel herself nodding as she anticipated the facts he was about to give her. Hearing her three favorite words from her favorite person would always make her feel better. "I didn't mean what I said that night. I'm away a lot, and you're incredible at dealing with it. I only feel guilty for the things I've done, and how I've reacted, not for anything you've done." She reached for his hands for the last one, unable to stop herself. Everything was still there, the spark, the love. "Y/n, there's nothing I love more than you. Especially not something as trivial as work."

"Your work isn't unimportant." She finally spoke, lightly laughing at his last sentence.

"It's not, but my life is miserable with you." He broke his emotionless facts promise, wanting to get everything off his chest before they arranged a time he could come and collect his things.

Y/n nodded in agreement. "I hate knowing you're in DC, and you're not with me." She confessed. "I came because did you fuck up? Yes, was I hurt? Yes, beyond belief, but we had some time apart and I know I can be by myself." Spencer's heart dropped to his stomach, nausea rushing over him. It was so deserved, but it didn't hurt less. Towering over him, Y/n sniffled a sob. "But I don't want to be."

Her added statement made him look up so fast he nearly got whiplash. "I want to come home." He let his heart indulge in the fantasy of having her again. "But I slept with someone else." He reminded her, the statement making him physically shiver.

A little nod came from her, obviously trying to figure it out. "Are you sorry?"

"All I am is sorry. You're all I think about every day." Spencer replied with nothing but sincerity in his voice.

"And it didn't mean anything?" She asked, trying not to think about it. Everything lay in the balance of what he said next.

Instead of speaking, he took her hands and kissed her knuckles, the salty tears getting onto her skin. "I swear, I was blackout drunk, and I don't remember any of it."

"Are you willing to fix this?" Her next question came, believing his statement but not wanting to hang in limbo over a decision.

"Yes. I will do anything for you, Y/n, but I mean that much more seriously right now. Just tell me what you need." Spencer declared, breathing out just enough he could breathe back in again. His piece had been said, and, whatever the outcome was, he was going to be a better person.

"I need a hug." She whimpered out, not having to wait more than five seconds until Spencer's arms were around her, tighter than ever before. "If you pull any of this shit again..." She warned.

His head nodded slightly, although he didn't want to move and interrupt their moment. Her tears were soaked into his shirt and his were wiped back with the palm of his hand.

"So, you'll come home right now?" She asked, voice muffled by his shoulder but he knew what she meant.

"And I'll stay for as long as you need." He promised. "I really love you."

"I need to see it." She reminded him, although he'd never forget. "But I really love you too."

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[yandere-daydreams]

Title: Karma.

Pairing: Yandere!Xiao/Reader (Genshin Impact).

Word Count:  2.1k.

TW: Imprisonment, Mentions of Kidnapping, Codependence, Possessive Mindsets, Non-Consensual Touching, Physical Abuse, Slight Victim-Blaming.

Somewhere, in the back of his mind, Xiao knew that this was what he deserved.

This, all of it, everything. Whatever the world had to throw at him, all the things he’d earned over centuries of bloodshed and death and guilt that grew more crippling with each passing day. He’d come to terms with that, and if he was being honest with himself, he might admit that he was growing numb to the pain, that despite his distaste, violence didn’t seem as utterly unpalatable as it used to. He wasn’t thankful for it, he didn’t want it, but he was resigned, apathetic, too used to it to care the way he used to, when fighting left him as battered as his enemies. He'd grown accustomed to it. He’d adapted.

He just wasn’t used to this. A new sort of discomfort. A different kind of pain.

He just wasn’t used to you being the source of his karmic suffering, whether or not you realized it was quite that poetic.

He’d earned it. He knew that. He’d earned every part of his current punishment – your glare, your locked jaw, the unadulterated loathing that emanated off of you in waves, unignorable from the moment he shrugged open the heavy, wooden door to his crowded room on the inn’s top floor. He’d managed to stave off the urge to use chains, ropes, anything more solid and more restraining than an idle threat and a locked door, but you were smart enough to stay balled up in the furthest corner, your knees pulled into your chest and your eyes on the floor, narrowed with an intensity he’d only ever seen in demons, moments before their deaths. It hurt him to see, the stance too defensive not to be learned, but it was better than the alternative. He’d caught you on the balcony, once or twice, leaning over the railing or admiring the view, and…

You could’ve slipped. You could’ve tried to jump. He shouldn’t have lost his temper, but you shouldn’t have been so reckless. It’d been dangerous, even you were still too naïve to see that.

Xiao grit his teeth, shaking his head as he forced himself to focus on the matter at-hand. You didn’t move as he approached, only shrinking further into yourself, becoming something small, something timid, a form of passive resistance you’ve perfected, in the weeks since you last put up a real fight. If he was feeling any less patient, he might’ve resorted to less honorable methods, throwing you over his shoulder and dragging you through his routine of self-indulgence despite your attempts to struggle against him. He’d tried it before, broken his own promises countless times, but it was almost never worth the way you’d cry afterwards, like he’d hurt you, like he’d done anything wrong. Like you could expect him to do anything less, when you were determined to be so stubborn.

So, instead, he tried talking. Talking was more peaceful. He didn’t like talking, but you did, and he was trying to be more considerate of what you liked. “I’m back.”

He waited, but there was no response. That was fine. He was fine. He couldn’t say he’d never given you a reason to ignore him. “You’re not reading,” He tried, again, fighting to keep his voice even. You tended to flinch, whenever he got too loud. “It’d be a better use of your time than sulking around, like this.”

You didn’t look at him, your voice muffled by your self-made haven. “You keep burning my books.”

Burning? That sounded like something he would do, as an act of precaution or anger or the same petty vengeance creatures so far beneath him were so prone to. It’d probably been one of the anthologies you were so fond of – folklore hiding under the guise of real history. Usually, he didn’t pay it much mind, the liberal retellings of events no living mortal could possibly be old enough to have witnessed, but he didn’t care for it when you found value in such trash. Stories about the Adepti were far too common in Liyue literature, and you’d always been the type to ask questions, to try to pry your way into subjects you could never hope to comprehend. It was better to eliminate the problem entirely. That was how he’d survived for so long, among humans -- terminating issues before they could arise.

But, you wouldn’t understand that. And even if you did, it wouldn’t do anything to heal the wound he’d already created.

He was beginning to think nothing he tried would ever be enough to mend your anger, not when you were so content to tear at the stitching yourself.

“I said I was sorry, didn’t I?” He wasn’t sure if he had, but you didn’t correct him, only squaring your shoulders, digging your nails into your legs, going even further to block him out, push him away, isolate yourself and leave him to suffer for your insubordination. Xiao rolled his eyes, scowling to himself, but whatever irritation he could summon was quickly replaced by his exhaustion, that perpetual desire to fall into your arms and have you welcome him willingly, lovingly, the way you used to before he decided he had to ruin it. He was tempted to touch you, to reach out, to cup your cheek or wrap an arm around you or draw you close by force, rather than natural attraction, but he thought better of it, crouching by your side, instead, letting his back hit the wall with a heavy thud.

When he opened his mouth, his tongue felt heavier, his throat hoarse. Like the weight of his conscious had found yet another way to make itself known. “You hate me.”

It was a fact, like the color of the sky or the scent of the air before a storm. It was true, both of you already knew that, but you were kind enough to hesitate, lifting you head just high enough to see him. For him to see you, tiny and terrified. A trembling rabbit that knew better than to hope for mercy from a hawk. “I do.”

It stung more than it had any right to. “And there’s nothing I can do make you stop hating me.”

You laughed, at that, the sound breathy and sardonic, melodic and unabashed, akin to bird songs and wind chimes and every other beautiful thing Xiao could think of, even in its most beaten down state. He wanted to kiss you, to hold you, to deafen himself because he knew nothing would ever be half as lovely as that laugh, but you were talking before he could act on the impulse. That was for the best, really. Acting on impulse was what got him into this, and he wasn’t eager to drive you away any further. “I don’t have any other choice,” You started, your tone light, your anger softened into something playful. The kind of tender rage only you were capable of. “If I could choose not to hate you, I would. You were my friend, and if I could find any way to justify your actions, you’d still be my friend. I don’t want to think of you as anything else.” You paused, letting out a deep breath, relaxing slightly. Xiao couldn’t bring himself to celebrate the small victory. “I don’t want to hate you, but I have to. You see that, right? After everything you’ve done to me, I have to hate you.”

He deserved this, and you deserved to say it. He deserved to have his heart broken, crushed and shattered in his chest, and you deserved to be the one to break it. “I don’t want you to hate me, either.” It felt more intimate than it should’ve, a confession rather than common knowledge. You might’ve teased him for it, months ago, smiled and said something about softening him up. Now, your frown only deepened. “But, I need to do this. Your safety comes first. If something ever happened to you, I’d—”

Even in his own mind, his logic faltered. ‘If something ever happened to you’, like he hadn’t already done more damage than any monster ever could. It might’ve been more redeemable if he was honest, if he admitted he was doing this for himself, because he wanted to, because just for an hour, a minute, a few key seconds, he was idiotic enough to think he deserved to have you, permanently, whether or not you wanted to have him.

But, he couldn’t say that. He didn’t know how. His mouth wouldn’t form the right words, so he was left to say the wrong ones, his tone taking a sharp turn towards hostile as he spoke. “The door isn’t locked. I’m not keeping you here. You can leave, if you’re really that miserable.”

You shifted, and Xiao’s throat went dry. He knew the answer, and yet, it still hurt to hear it in your voice, to know you were capable of inflicting such insufferable pain. “If I try to, will you let me?”

He wouldn’t. Of course he wouldn’t, he couldn’t even tell himself he’d try. He’d hunt you down to the ends of Teyvat if he had to, spend the rest of his immortality finding you and making sure you never had the chance to do something so short-sighted again. He could make the guilt more bearable, promising himself he’d take care of you, that since he couldn’t do away with the cage entirely, he’d do his best to make your prison a comfortable one, but you’d still be unhappy, you’d still hate him. He’d hate himself, too, but that might be the one aspect of your relationship he thought he could stand. If nothing else, Xiao didn’t make himself a stranger to self-loathing.

“I love you,” He mumbled, as if that counted for anything. “So much. More than you could possibly understand.”

“I know.” You were the one to bridge the gap, this time, a hesitant hand coming to rest over his. Something in his chest tightened, and for a moment, Xiao had to wonder if it was possible for a mortal to be so cruel. “But, I don’t love you. There’s nothing you can do to change that.”

You moved to pull away, fear fading into sympathetic pity, but Xiao didn’t want your pity, he didn’t want you to go back to hiding from him, trembling and screaming and treating him like some monster, a beast waiting to lash out. That’s what he was, really, but he didn’t have to admit it. He didn’t want to admit it. He didn’t want to let himself believe he’d fallen that far, and he didn’t want to let you treat him as if he had.

His grip was too tight, a whimper escaping your parted lips as he caught you by the wrist, but he couldn’t bring himself to care, not when it was so easy to jerk you towards him, forcing you out of your pathetic, laughable shelter and into his lap, his free arm latching onto your waist before you had a chance to pull away. The remorse was reflexive, immediate and instinctual, but for the first time, he allowed himself to ignore it, to bury it underneath the pleasant warmth of your skin against his and the bliss that came with being so close to you, with burying his face in your shoulder, with indulging every necessity he’d denied himself in the name of your comfort. Your hands were already on his chest, your entire body shaking as you made a weak attempt to push him away, but Xiao was stronger than you, and he loved you so much more than you could ever hate him. This was fair. That had to be enough to make it fair.

You shifted, the air catching in your lungs, but Xiao only bared his teeth, letting pointed fangs ghost over the side of your neck before he could regret scaring you. Maybe he wanted to scare you. Maybe it’d be better, if you were scared of him. At least then, he wouldn’t have to keep playing dutiful lover. 

“Don’t move,” He snarled, and instantly, you went still. He could feel your heart racing in your chest, hear the cracked sob you failed to swallow, but he wanted this, he needed this. You’d get used to it, with time. You might even begin to appreciate the weeks he spent coddling you, once you were exposed to the alternative. “I don’t want to hurt you, but I need this. I need you to let me have this.” He paused, giving you just enough to time to stiffen, to realize he wasn’t letting go. To realize he was never letting go, even if that meant you only grew to hate him more. “I don’t care if you love me. I need you.” 

Because he’d already gotten what he deserved. He’d already suffered, anguished, submitted himself fully to karma and reaped the consequences. The lesson had been drilled into him a thousand times, by his own hand another hundred. He already knew pain.

He’d already gotten what he deserved.

For once, he wanted to know what it would be like to get what he wanted, instead.

[blzzrdstryr]

Can I request where the reader tells jean that they should break up. What would be her reaction when the reader is been secretly seeing some else? Yes. I'm here for the angsty. Pls make the reader g/n

Wordcount: 1268

CW: Yandere, unhealthy relationships, confinement, infidelity, physical abuse

The thing about dating Jean is that she seems perfect - beautiful, smart, strong and wholly dedicated - most people would kill to have a lover like that. However most people don’t know how torturous relationship with her can be - she is indeed beautiful, smart, strong and wholly dedicated, just not to you, as Mondstadt comes before anything, her health, your love and the little of time you two spend together.

How many times has she cancelled or simply missed your dates, because she was too busy? How many times have you had to look after her like a nanny after a toddler, spending days just cooking and fetching the littlest things everytime she tried to cut her life short by simply overworking? How many times have you begged her to finally take a break and relax, and assign a part of her duties to someone else?

You love Jean, you truly do, but you can��t be with her, not after what she had done over the years of your relationship, not after what you had done over the last weeks. It was an anniversary, you see, a big event that you both planned to celebrate, meaning you preparing everything beforehand and Jean being present for once. You did your part of the deal, working for a week in the row, just to make everything perfect and she didn’t attend.

Mondstadt needed her more than you, it always does.

You lost it.

Maybe it was the resentment slowly piling up with every disservice, every miss on her part, maybe it was the rage and frustration you felt in that moment, a week of your efforts and dedication rendered pointless.

Logically you understood why Jean did it - Mondstadt is a nation, full of people who rely on their Grandmaster and the Knights, you’re just one person, a person who knows that Jean is also human, who can get sick and tired, who overworks herself just to provide everyone with security they deserve, but her silent dismissal always felt so scorching and so cold at the same time.

And so you did something unforgivable - you cheated on her. It was easy to find an eager person who would love and worship you the way you thought you deserved it. The sensations of other’s hands upon your skin, of a mouth licking and biting and kissing brought you a sick sense of satisfaction - it was revenge. In that moment everything was perfect, you felt the happiest, most cherished person to exist.

The next morning greeted you with a cold realization - you did something unforgivable. Jean, despite her dismissal of you, was still faithful and dedicated, yet unlike her you were weak, you allowed yourself to succumb to petty hurt and slept with someone else. A giant wave of shame and self-loathing crushed all over you, threatening to drown your entire being - not even once you felt this despicable and disgusting.

You swore that you won’t cheat on her ever again the same day, not being able to look Jean directly in the eyes for the rest of the week. This oath however was soon broken - the same cancelled date, her missing figure carving out another small hole in your heart. It felt good - to be the center of someone’s world even if it’s just only a night long crude and laughable falsehood.

That’s why you’re standing here now: in the middle of her office, as Jean scribes something in the scroll with a feather. She doesn’t lift her head, writing one line after another, her whole attention focused on the piece of parchment on the table. You stand right before her, patiently waiting when she will finish, and only when you realize that it’s not happening soon do you allow yourself to speak.

“Jean”, you start, voice small and weak - she still writes, yet now lifts her head a bit, stern blue eyes now shifting between you and scroll: “[First]”, she starts not caring to hide the annoyed tiredness in her tone, “could you come back later? I have a lot of work to do”.

You stifle a burst of anger at the familiar, dreaded words: “I am afraid I can’t. We really need to talk”.

This prompts her to finally put the feather aside, her eyes now focusing on you: “[First], I know it’s hard for you”, you raise eyebrows, a spark of hope of her finally understanding how broken your relationships are igniting with a new strength, only to be snuffed out by the next phrase: “But I am pretty sure that whatever you want to talk can wait. Mondstadt never waits”.

You’re disappointed, both in herself and you for the dismissal and unfounded longing; you’re not surprised. Looking how Jean returns to her words, you decide to cut out all the unnecessary build up and blurt out:

“We need to break up, we really do”, her face shifts in the same moment morphing from shock to disbelief to sadness, as she quickly stands up, almost knocking down her chair in the moment: “[First], I didn’t know that.. I.. I am sorry”.

She quickly strides to you, her hands calloused from the fencing cupping around yours: “I.. Do you want me to do something, [First], I didn’t know that you felt so badly. Let me fix that, please”, she sounds so pitiful and earnest, a prick of self-loathing stabbing your heart. You’re the one who should be asking for forgiveness.

“Stop, Jean”, you yank palms from her hold: “I need to tell you something”, she steps up closer to you and takes your hands by the wrist again, her breath suddenly fanning the face. You bare yourself, swallowing the guilt and the lump stuck in your throat down - she has to know, she deserves someone better than you: “I have cheated on you, several times”.

Jean’s hold suddenly turns from gentle to crushing, as she squeezes her palms into tight fists, knuckles turning white. You suppress both whimper and pained expression and look her straight in the eyes: “Yes, that’s right, that’s true. I slept behind your back”.

“[First]”, begging whisper.

“I cheated every time you cancelled our plans or dismissed me”.

Slap.

Jean’s hand leaves a burning, angry imprint on your face. You don’t flinch from pain, welcoming it instead - you deserved, after all of the things you did that is the least thing she could do to punish you. The impact leaves your head slightly dizzy, a coppery taste of blood blooming on your tongue - you must have bit yourself when she hit you. You swallow the taste down, continuing to speak:

“That’s why we need to end things, you are deserving of someone more than just a whorish, unfaithful cheater for the second half”.

She gives you a cold dead stare when you end your line and for the first time you feel a pang of fear, never has she looked so terrifying, so devoid of her usual gentle compassion: “Shut up”, she explodes, her hands cuffing yours again.

“Guards! Seize [First], now!”

A shocked noise escapes you, as a pair of knights burst into rooms, knocking you down: “What are you doing?!”, you shout at Jean, eyes wide as saucers. She gives you a look, a mix of rage and pity.

“Don’t worry [First]”, she adopts the patronizing tone, it’s jarring to say the least: “Someone must have poisoned or manipulated you, I know my [First] would never say or do such things. Don’t worry I’ll find the perpetrator and punish them”.

You can’t utter even a word of protest with a heavy hand around your face.

[yostresswritinggirl]

It's so frustrating (as a writer) how Albedo's whole character is just- full of opportunities and writing ideas?! It's like part fan-service and part freaking fanfiction prompts hnghng. Let me demonstrate—

Love Potion #9

Inspired from Albedo's Story IV and V:

"Your final assignment: show me the truth and the meaning of this world."

"I hope I'm not overthinking things. When parents tell their children of 'the meaning of this world...' They must mean living a happy life, right?"

[Albedo in his pursuit of answers to finish the last task left by his master seeks out You, the most efficient and trusted member of the Investigation Team, in helping him understand the meaning of Life and Happiness among those of Soil.]

As a master in identifying patterns and logic, he only finds it suitable to ask for your mind and companionship in this strange chapter of his 'research.'

"When you speak of being in love, what symptoms does a person feel during that emotion?" Those teal eyes stare with a burning curiosity, as your nervous glimmering ones force itself away —

"Like, heart palpitations, stomach pain, shortness of breath, and uhm light-headedness and dizziness. To name a few."

"That sounds like symptoms of a disease... or even loathing-"

"No!"

Impressions on the Snow

Excerpts from Albedo's Story III, IV, V and Voiceline:

When It Snows... Master...

"His master was not his birth mother, but Albedo has no doubt that his life stems from her nonetheless."

"Albedo has no memory of any blood relations. From birth, he was already adventuring deep within domains with his master."

"Albedo once led a simple and contented existence. It was a life free of considerations, but dull in its monotony. His purpose centered on accompanying his teacher, executing her orders, and meeting her expectations."

Many question the Chief Alchemist's lifestyle and routine of spending days away from public eye and human interaction. But lately it has become more worrisome when Albedo suddenly felt a calling in Dragonspine where he spends days alone in the freezing blizzard. How can such a man find solace in this icy wasteland with the ever looming fear of a frozen death?

You'd think he'd spend every second of his time there dedicated to another one of his research, but contrary to that, the Kreideprinz often finds himself dazed and silent, unmoving and reminiscing.

In snowflakes and shivers, he finds solace to a life abandoned and forgotten.

"I may be called Kreideprinz, but my knowledge and title came from another far better than mine. A true genuis. Traveller, do you wish to hear the tale of my master, (Y/N) Rhinedottir?"

Citrinitas - Before the End

Albedo's appearance within the city of freedom was that of a bursting bubble, sudden and quick, fleeting. And he knows when his duties and research are over, like a bubble, he too shall make his leave.

He established alchemy and named it after Mondstadt, so it is only fair and wise of him to make sure that the arts will not fall and disappear with him. And thus he looks upon his most trusted assistants and students, with the glaring absence of Timaeus.

"The Trials of the next Chief Alchemist shall commence between you two, Sucrose and (Y/N). For upon my inevitable retirement in the future, one of you shall precede me and carry on as the new master."

In other words: A series about the trials of being the next master alchemist; a soft rivalry between the two simps (Sucrose and You) w/o Timaeus because he doesn't have what it takes. Sad.

Hints of a love triangle, angst, friendly rivalry, alchemical bullshit and spoilers. We don't hurt Sucrose here, Sucrose is good girl.

I'm gonna cry, I wrote and formatted and made all these dividers instead of working on my character and my school requirements huhu, not a good premonition for the new year.

Anyways this feels like a self-indulgent post and there are no promises if I'd even finish them all. I do need help on what to start on first.

tl;dr Albedo precious, precious boyo. And we simp for him. Maybe too much.

[koshicoast]

A few shinkami headcannons because I love them more than anything

Shinsou has a growth spurt and practically towers over Denki by their second year (for all intents and purposes, Shinsou has always been in class 1A)

Denki grows a little bit but not that much, he’s not complaining though, he gets Shinsou to grab stuff on the top shelve for him or has him hang up posters in higher places in his room (the only downside is that he has to get on his tippy toes for kisses but usually Shinsou will just bend down like a good boyfriend)

They go on dates every Sunday, It’s their day and it doesn’t matter what they’re doing as long as it’s just the two of them

They could be studying or doing homework or exercising or anything really and they’ll call it a date

The rest of the class knows better than to try and contact either boy on Sunday

“Normies worship Jesus on Sunday but I worship Shinsou” - Denki, at one point in time

Shinsou loves playing with denki’s hair, he buys different kinds of hair clips just to put them in denki’s hair

he just likes how the colors pop out

He especially likes to see purple hair clips in denki’s hair

Tbh it doesn’t have to be hair clips, it could be a scrunchie or a rubber band or a headband; as long as it’s purple it does wonders to shinsou’s heart

Denki likes playing with shinsou’s hair too but more than that he likes seeing Shinsou in yellow clothing

Shinsou doesn’t wear bright colors a lot usually sticking with black or cool tone colors

But when he does wear yellow, Denki just gets all mushy no matter how small it is

It could be yellow earrings or socks or something and Denki will wear a love sick expression all day

Despite being in the hero course, Shinsou still gets incredibly insecure about his quirk and how some people only see him as a villain

Denki, without fail or hesitation, tells Shinsou what a great hero he’s gonna be, he talks about how Shinsou is gonna inspire a new wave of underground heroes and how he’s gonna be some kid’s Aizawa one day and how proud he is of him (The first time he said that, it makes Shinsou sob. It makes denki cry too bc he’s a sympathetic crier so they just lay in bed holding eachother)

He also tells Shinsou how no matter who’s the number one hero, Shinsou will always have first place in his heart. And that Shinsou is just as much as any other hero out there and even a little more because he’ll be underground

Denki just loves his boyfriend so much and whoever planted the idea that some quirks are just made for evil is going to get electrocuted >:(

Denki will also pepper Shinsou in kisses saying things like ‘you are so kind’ ‘you’re an amazing person’ ‘I love you so much’ ‘You’re my hero’ and just a bunch of stuff so by the end of their heart to heart Shinsou is feeling a lot better

Denki gets insecure about how ‘dumb’ he is and how he’ll probably just end up hurting civilians or himself before he hurts a villain

Shinsou hates how that’s how Denki views himself because Denki is one of the kindest people in the world and doesn’t even realize it like the first time Denki told him that insecurity, Shinsou looked at him and was like ‘are you..you’re serious? Denks, You’re one of the most clever people I know’

Whenever Denki mentions it, Shinsou he just squeezes the blonde and lets him cry out his frustrations before telling him that ‘he’s not an idiot or stupid and that it’s okay not to understand something as fast as others and that it’s okay to learn differently and it’s okay’ (Shinsou will always try not to cry but a few tears fall anyways bc he just wants denks to be happy without feeling like he’s a fuckup)

Shinsou never lets Denki call himself an idiot or stupid, even in a joking way.

They don’t fight a lot because of their personalities like

Denki is a people’s person and is really in tune with other’s emotions and by default is a pacifist unless otherwise

Shinsou isn’t a people’s person but he’s observant due to his quirk bc of how he’s been treated in the past, he’s also good at picking up on people’s body language

Most times it’s just small disagreements and even then they communicate the best they can and try to compromise

If that doesn’t work then they’ll give each other space so the disagreement won’t turn into something ugly

They’ve only fought once and it was the worst (and best) thing for them

The fight happened after a mock rescue mission goes wrong and there were weeks of stress and tension leading up to it

It was messy and bad like really bad

“I just don’t get why you have to run into danger!” Denki screamed. The whole dorm could probably hear them but he didn’t care, not when his boyfriend was looking at him like he just lost his mind.

It was supposed to be a simple training exercise. Simple. Go in, defeat villains, rescue the ‘hostages’. It was not that simple.

*insert how badly the mission went and Shinsou ran towards the danger to help or smth idk*

It gets pretty rough between the two of them because they’re both pretty emotional people

Shinsou thinks denki doesn’t want him to be a hero and denki thinks Shinsou doesn’t want to be with him

It’s a lot of insecurities + stress + yelling

Denki is the first one to break, he’s a lot more emotionally sensitive than Toshi and everything is just crashing down and he hates it

“Do you just not want to be with me?!” He cries, unable to keep the tears at bay any more. He hates arguing with people, especially when that person happens to be his boyfriend. He gets it, he does! Toshi is training to become a hero and so is he but that doesn’t make it easier. Doesnt stop the shot of fear whenever he watches the other get hurt, doesn’t stop the late night self deprecation, doesn’t stop the anxiety he gets whenever he sees Toshi run head first into danger.

But he gets it and somehow it’s a bitter realization.

Because Hitoshi’s priority is the job they signed up for and Denki’s is Hitoshi.

The fight ends with tears on both their parts and they call it a night, too tired to scream anymore

They sleep in their own rooms that night

The next morning they agree to take a break, not a full break up, but some time away. Space away from each other to prioritize and think.

(Now ive seen fanfics where everyone picks denki over Shinsou and i hate that so fuck you, class 1A are both their friends and they’re all family and try and to help each other I will die with that statement)

Surprisingly the two most helpful people are Bakugou and Kirishima

(Actually not that surprising, they’re the longest couple in the whole class, dating immediately after Kamino)

Bakugou and denki have a heart to heart

“You’re both dumbasses” Katsuki sighs heavy, passing another tissue over to the sobbing blonde. He’s not good at these kinds of things, but Kirishima told him he could help the electric blonde more than he could so here he is. “You gonna tell me what’s wrong or just cry?” He asks, not without a hint of worry though. He pretends to ignore it.

So denki tells him everything and his insecurities

Oh. Yeah, Kirishima was right.

“You think I’m an idiot” Denki mutters quietly, harshly rubbing his eyes.

“No” The older blonde shakes his head, plopping down on the bed next to the other. He doesn’t turn to meet yellow eyes, his own trained on the All Might poster hanging directly across from them. He feels Pikachu’s curious gaze on him so he decides to elaborate more, knowing the sooner he helps the sooner he doesn’t have to deal with this anymore. It’s totally not because he’s gotten soft. Absolutely not.

“Trust me, Zombie Eyes looks at you like you put the fucking stars in the sky. It’s disgusting to watch.” He crinkles his nose in disgust earning a small laugh. “People like him and I, we gotta work twice as hard. Not saying that no one else does but it’s different.” He stresses the last word. “People like Ei or Deku or even you, people already see you as good so all you gotta do is get stronger. They don’t question your character, your morals, they don’t look down on you for having a weakness. People like Zombie Eyes and I though?we gotta work hard just to prove that we’re good. That we were meant to become heroes. Every action we do is put under a microscope and analyzed.” He explains.

“We’re assholes by default, It’s how we were raised. Not saying it as an excuse though. He was in the shitty system and I had shitty parents, no adult taught us shit like love or how to properly deal with feelings.”

Stupid Deku tried with him but he didn’t even know how to deal with his own much less some angry blond kid’s.

He takes a deep breath, pushing back faint memories of his childhood. The younger hasn’t said a word but he can tell he’s listening so it’s fine. “We can’t just turn off how we are. If it’s frustrating for you and Ei, It’s worse for us. Like we know logically that we’re good people, that we changed but that’s now how our brain sees it. We push ourselves because that’s all we know how to do, it proves to us and everyone else that we bled for our spot here. That we made it. Having friends is hard because we compare ourselves to them and draw our own conclusions to their actions. Being nice? Our brain says it’s a trap. Showing some human fucking decency? Our shitty brain says it’s an act. Being in a relationship? Laughable. We’re just villains pretending to play heroes to everyone else.”

He takes another deep breath, forcing himself to look away from the poster, flashbacks to their first year briefly passing in his head. Okay yeah, not going down that route. He looks over, making eye contact. He wonders if this is how Kirishima feels whenever he’s trying to cheer him up. Wonders if it’s just as hard. This better be worth it, everyone has been miserable. (Shitty thing about having been through life and death situations together is that everyone has bonded and become close like a family so when one of them is sad it’s like everyone is fucking sad.) (He loathes it because even he gets worried.)

“But despite that he still loves you.” He says softly, almost whispering like he’s telling the other a secret. “Fights his demons to hold your hand and all that shit”

Shinsou loves him? Loves him?

“How do you.. how do you know?” Denki whispers, throat sore. “We fought so badly last night, we were screaming at eachother.”

“He treats you the same way I treat Ei.” He answers,

“He changed his priorities around to try and accommodate for another person in his life, you became more important than training or studying. He takes days off to be with you, cuts his studying short if you need a break. It might not seem much to others but for him that’s huge. He came in with this one track mind but then you came along and he scrambled to balance everything. And then you two got your shit together and started to go out and I’m pretty sure he got scared”

“Scared?” Denki asks, the thought almost funny to him.

“I did.” Bakugou admits as Denki’s eyes grow wide.

“I was petrified. When Ei started to become more important than hero work, I freaked. It’s not that loverboy is choosing being a hero over you, It’s because he doesn’t understand that he can have both. He thinks everything important is a choice- that if you want something you have to give something up. He chooses hero work and he loses you. He chooses you and he loses hero work.”

“But he’s not going to lose me or hero work”

“Kinda sounded like you did give him an ultimatum though”

The realization hits him like cold water.

Shinsou gets a similar talk with Kirishima

It helps, a lot

They don’t immediately go back to eachother, instead spending the week with their everyone else and just taking time for themselves

Shinsou knocks on Denki’s door Sunday morning and they finally talk things out

It’s also the first time they say ily!!

Anyways after that fight they work harder on communicating especially when it comes to things like hero work

It’s not perfect bc their dumb traumatized teens but they’re trying and they know their lil family will always be there

I haven’t slept but yes thanks for sticking around if you’re reading this

If ur interested in shinsou’s talk with Kirishima lmk

[anastasiaskarsgard]

My whore

Warning: cursing, sex, adult content 18+

I should edit this, but I will later maybe. Just busted this out at lunch for no fun

As she pulled her hood up even more, and briskly walked down the familiar street, she could hear her heart pounding in her chest. Her stomach did a somersault as soon as she she spotted the lone figure standing outside the dimly-lit liquor store. She knew better, she really did. You play with fire, you’re bound to get burnt eventually, but try as she might to practice self preservation, she just hadn’t a care when it came to him. It was a well-known fact that he was someone dangerous and she felt the most scandalous rush whenever she was near him.

She gracefully made her way to his side, briefly knitting her brows together in self-loathing for being unable to just walk on by or ignore him.

"What do you want?" The man moved closer watching her with a cold sneer on his handsome face as he studied her changing expressions. He was absolutely fascinated by how expressive her face was. The way she smirked and you could see the hint of a dimple, or how her eyes narrowed into slits when she tried to control herself from telling him off. How her full lips drew together in a bow when she was determined, or if she felt particularly brazen, she’d cock a single eyebrow and grin like a cat.

Being who he was, his facial expressions ranged from various levels of boredom, to every level of rage. Hatred and apathy was all he’d ever really felt, except when he was around this girl. As the corners of his mouth nearly twitched into a smile, he grabbed her hand, forcing her close to his body, chests touching, thrilling at the stunned look on her face.

"You know what I want princess?” His lips found her ear, fangs nipping at the lobe, hyper aware of her dainty hands clutching his shirt, her breathing growing more erratic by the second, and her icy blue eyes scanning his face, searching for his intent.

"Please Roman....." She pleaded.

His hands brushed over an area she never let anyone else touch, moaning in spite of herself. When his fingers took hold of a swollen nipple and tugged at it viciously, she had to bite her lip, to stop herself from screaming aloud. Her knees shook and she tightened her grip on his shirt, scared if she let go she’d fall. She cursed herself for always turning to silly putty in his hands so easily, but she couldn’t help it. He was intoxicating.

Roman scratched his nails down the taut flesh muffling her sweet mouth with his own. Inhumanly sensitive ears, and Jade green eyes became aware of a few of her friends moving their way, and before she noticed them, (or them her) he dragged her down a nearby alley, walking swiftly with purpose in hopes they hadn’t been discovered.

It was no surprise that her friends weren’t fans of his. He’d beaten up the males of the little posse, after they’d tried to confront him for filming himself fucking their girlfriends and posting it a snippet on his Instagram story when he was high. He hadn’t even remembered he’d done it, until they marched up and shoved a phone in his face, and he could understand why laughing and commenting on one of the girls o face, could be seen as a dick move. The rest of the girls in her circle of friends would drop to their knees and service him if he so much as glanced their way, but he had been far too distracted by the girl he was currently dragging behind him to care.

"Where are we - what are we doing?" The breathless girl inquired, as he continued forward like he knew where this lead. Her eyesight needed time to adjust, so she was still practically blind.

"Why do you sound so scared princess? You came and found me." He came to a small alcove and He pushed her firmly against the wall, hands going to her waist, lips finding their way to her neck.

"I had to twist your arm too." She whispered sarcastically, feeling his hands slip under her shirt rubbing, caressing and fondling her breasts. She bit her swollen bottom lip, silencing the moan which threatened to escape. Her own hands seeking out his skin, desperate for the closeness and intimacy found with skin on skin contact. She shuddered with anticipation as she raked her fingernails down his chest, feeling his muscles jerk under her touch. She moaned wantonly as her shirt was pushed up, exposing her to the night air, before her nipple was engulfed by a warm, wet mouth and she gripped his head pressing him closer to her.

Her sudden intake of air, made him look Out of the corner of his eye to be sure the immediate area was free of any sudden movements. Finding none, Roman smirked allowing his eyes to wander back to the half naked beauty before him. Pushing her skirt up, he pulled her panties to the side, sinking two fingers into her aroused body, driving then in a series of quick, hard movements, mouth covering hers when her sounds rose in pitch. Feeling an almost desperate need to be inside her, he Freed himself from his slacks, pressed up against her body, lifting her legs to straddle his waist and pushed his length deep inside of her core. He couldn’t get over how tight her sheath was every time, even though he had worked her over several times with his impressive manhood. Doesn’t mean he ever went easy on her, if anything it made him pound into her that much harder. He wanted to ruin her for any other man. The thought of someone else inside his princess made him see red.

Just the thought of someone else tasting her had His mouth possessively taking hers, in a wild, untamed passion rendering the girl practically breathless. All she could do was hang on, as he fucked her senseless like a man possessed or a demon. She felt fire course through her veins, igniting suppressed emotions, spiralling her to a pleasurable Eutopia of her own creation. Coherent, logical thoughts were lost and she surrendered her mind to the unlikely possibility that this was all there was. Her and him forever.

Just when she thought he couldn’t possibly fuck her any harder, he grabbed her by the shoulders and fucked up into her savagely, almost bruising as he delved deeper. She didn’t know why his rough animalistic behavior aroused her beyond anything so violent ever should, but it quickly brought her to climax, engulfing her in flames, limbs locking around him as she bit into his shoulder, sending a tingle of ecstasy down her spine, as she felt him spill inside of her, stuttering his hips to a stop. He pressed his forehead to hers and opened his eyes to stare into hers, before closing them and kissing her passionately.

"Roman,” She murmured, as they paused for air, dragging them both back into reality. Finally regaining the strength she had lost in their frenzied sexual escapades, attempted to push her partner away. He hesitantly relented, giving her enough space to stand. Legs trembling slightly, she adjusted her clothes, back bracing against the wall and head still dizzy from his presense. Muscular arms wound around her waist and she stood perfectly still as he pulled her close again, and his breath feathered across her cheek.

"Eager to escape me princess?" He purred, mockery making it's way into his voice and she damned him for so damn attractive. Not that he wasn’t gorgeous to look at, but it went beyond his heart throb, movie star looks or tall statuesque form. He had a Raw, primitive sexuality that cant be described in words, but was painfully obvious, that made him beyond desirable.

"I don’t know why I let you do this to me. I’ve got your cum running down my leg and I'm supposed to meet my friends fifteen minutes ago."

"Don't lie to me." He hissed, turning her to face him, thumb and forefinger capturing her defiant chin increasing the pressure when she tried to look away. "Tell me you enjoyed what we just did."

"I didn't." She bit out defiantly, the fire in her eyes growing stronger, fed by his arrogant attitude. "In fact I hated it."

His amused laughter infuriated her even further, and she had to use every ounce of willpower not to scream in frustration.

"That's what I like about you,” His green eyes gleaming darkly. "Always resisting me. It makes complete and total possession of your body that much more sweet."

"A possession? Is that what I am to you?" She shrieked, striking him in the chest, trying to break free of his embrace. This only made him bring her body closer, pressing his renewed arousal against her in an unmistakable way. Lips skimming her cheek, and throat, hands touching her everywhere as she squirmed in his grasp.

"Does this bother you?" He whispered eyes locking with hers, mouths so close they could feel each others breath.

"Yes." She whispered, willing herself the strength to resist him.

"You sure seemed like you liked it when I fucked you, out in the open, in a dirty alleyway like a fucking whore.” His words pierced her heart like a dagger had been laced with them, and in a burst of strength, she threw him off of her, and she stormed down the alleyway. Certain this was how Roman Godfrey, discarded his toys, she let out a yelp when she was grabbed from behind and spun around. Aggressively seizing her in his hold as she thrashed, he bent and whispered in her ear, “I love how you fight me...” before claiming her mouth with his own. The kiss sent a shiver down her spine, causing her traitorous body to move closer to him, practically begging and pleading for more contact. Her long-fingers raked through his chestnut hair gripping the strands firmly, tugging in a confused attempt to hurt and arouse.

A wanton moan was heard and she found herself pinned against the wall again. Their movements desperate and uncharacteristically sloppy. Emotions running wild, not wanting to acknowledge they were already in over their heads. That this was more than just sex, there were true emotions underneath it all, and it was terrifying. No one in their right mind loved a man like him, and no girl could possibly love him ran through their chaotic thoughts as the alarms went off, but neither heeded the call. Pleasure that could be described as unimaginable pain flowed through them, pushing all their insecurities down and finding them lost in each other once again. Their ragged breathing was the only sounds heard and they kissed sweat drenched faces absentmindedly. His low chuckle garnered her attention and she looked at him curiously.

Feeling his member once again free, and pressing deliciously close to her entrance again, she shifted to make access easier.

"Tell me you enjoy this. Tell me you like us." He smirked, eyes betraying a hint of vulnerability that was gone so quick, she wasn’t sure she saw it.

“Or what? You won’t fuck me again?” She asked cocking her eyebrow, and grinning up at him.

“You love it.”

"What if in fact I hated it?"

"You didn't." He proclaimed confidently.

She wished with all her might that he was wrong, but he was right. She loved their fucked up little arrangement. “I don’t love being called a whore.”

“How about just my whore? Only my whore? Hmmm?” He asked, eyes flashing darkly.

“You’re such an asshole.”

“But I’m your asshole.”

“My asshole.” She giggled.

“My whore.” He growled as he thrust up inside of her.

[vashak]

Eiji’s war

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4

Originally posted on 22 December 2019 in Turkish here.

No, I’m not done yet.

I previously wrote about how Eiji found a new purpose in life after meeting Ash and getting to know his world, which helped him come out of the depression he suffered back in Japan. But what exactly is Eiji’s new purpose in life? It’s saving Ash from his very “different” world.

In the beginning of the story, we saw how devastated Eiji was when he found out that Ash was ready to use his one and only trump card (the capsule containing the Banana Fish drug) against Golzine, knowing full well that he wouldn’t win.

Ash had risked his own life to save Eiji’s when he didn’t know him at all and now Eiji doesn’t have the heart to let him walk to his death. It’s like he’s thinking to himself, “How can a boy my age find himself in such an impasse?” This is the first time we see Eiji rebel against the world Ash’s living in.

But Eiji does more than silently shed tears, especially once things get more complicated. For example, here he’s basically telling Ash to quit doing things that would put him in harm’s way.

Later, when it becomes clear that there’s no “quitting” in this world (because they simply won’t let you), Eiji comes up with a different suggestion.

And this offer is so unexpected that Ash doesn’t understand at first. Eiji simply asks him again if he would like to come to Japan with him. He is presumably surprised that Ash was so taken aback by such a straightforward question. Ash’s surprise is telling me that he never even thought it would be possible to leave this life behind.

Eiji’s offer also means this: I forgive you. Going to Japan to start a new life means that Ash won’t have to account for all the bad things he did in the past. Ash doesn’t believe there’s such a possibility or that he deserves such a chance. So he averts his gaze and comes up with an excuse. I just realized that there’s a pattern here. When Ash makes such excuses, he always puts himself down as if to say he’s not worthy of Eiji’s offer.  But then, as you’ll see in the scene below, he realizes that this attitude only serves to embarrass Eiji, so he stops and apologizes.

What this scene inherently tells us is just how ashamed Ash feels about the things he was forced to do all his life. It is also a good example of the difference in opinion between Ash and Eiji—while Ash thinks so little of himself, Eiji thinks the world of him.

When Eiji repeats his offer to go to Japan together a second time, he can’t stay so calm.

Because by then, Ash gave himself up to Golzine as hostage in exchange for Eiji’s life, underwent an eating disorder, started a guerilla war, got raped and is still fighting against commandos as they’re having this conversation.

This time, Ash tells him what he really thinks instead of coming up with excuses. He says “My hands are dirty with other people’s blood,” implying that he doesn’t deserve a fresh start. “But you had to. Or you would be killed yourself,” replies Eiji, whereas previously, when they were quarreling before Ash’s one-to-one fight with Arthur, Eiji had yelled “You are not the kind of man who shoots defenseless people!” to his face. It seems that Eiji has learned the cruel ways of Ash’s world since then.

There is another reason why Ash is not taking Eiji up on his offer besides thinking that he doesn’t deserve a fresh start. Ash thinks he’s a troublemaker and will put those around him in danger no matter where he is (I talked more about this here). And as expected, he tells Eiji exactly that: “I’m bad news, Eiji. Doesn’t matter where I go… And you’ll get caught up in it. Like you are now.”

We know by now that Eiji never even once stayed silent when Ash said something to stigmatize himself. He always told Ash otherwise and explained why in a perfectly logical way. All this time, he calmly and patiently fought against Ash’s toxic mindset. But this time, he’s had enough.

This is the first time Eiji puts his emotions into words in such a raw way. He literally screams how much he cares about Ash. And a minute later, he indisputably proves just how much by pushing Ash away and taking bullet for him.

This incident resets all the progress Eiji’s so far made to change Ash’s self-loathing mindset. The fact that Eiji almost died because of him and later Lao’s tirade against Ash in front of all the gang members (“He ain’t human! He’s a goddamn monster!”) make Ash feel ashamed and disgusted at himself.

Then comes the wretched hospital scene… This scene is drenched in symbolism, but it actually serves to make us understand one simple fact: Similar to how Eiji can’t survive in Ash’s world, Ash will never be accepted in Eiji’s world. Eiji’s not capable of protecting himself in Ash’s world. He’ll always be vulnerable as long as he stays there. And in Eiji’s world, Ash will never be accepted by others in the way Eiji accepts Ash. He’ll ultimately be seen as a criminal rather than a victim and will have to answer to the law for what he did.

So Ash enters the hospital. He’s been reminded in the most painful way that he can never be part of Eiji’s world and has come to say goodbye to his friend one last time. Eiji vaguely hears Ash’s accented “sayounara” and crawls out of bed with great difficulty to stop him from leaving (Ash can’t pronounce the second syllable long, but instead says “sa-yo-na-ra”). But just then, Charlie and Ibe-san notice Ash and come after him. Eiji knows that even if they have good intentions now, eventually Ash will be found guilty. And, for the first time in his life, Eiji tells Ash to leave him. He screams “Go!” with all his might. The anime adaptation did a wonderful job showing us how difficult this must have been for Eiji to do.

I think Eiji inherently knew that this was the last time he would see Ash. But he refused to believe it, because that would mean that he himself had surrendered to the fatalistic mindset that he was trying to liberate Ash from. So what does Eiji do next? What he does best, of course.

Remember when Eiji wanted to pass a message to Ash through his gang members when Ash tried to send him back to Japan without telling him? He asked Bones and Kong to tell Ash to “take care of his life” and that he would “always wish him luck” even from far away.

So this time, Eiji writes a letter to Ash in case he can’t see him before going to Japan. He pours in all that he feels. The letter ends up being the most earnest summary of everything Eiji has been trying to make Ash understand.

… You said to me before, “We live in different worlds” … We are friends. Isn’t that enough? … But I never felt scared of you, not even once … Actually, I always felt that you are hurt, much more than me—that your spirit is wounded … I always wanted to protect you … I think I wanted to protect you from your future … You can change your fate …

Eiji wants these words to accompany Ash while he’s away: “You are not alone, Ash. I am with you. My soul is always with you.” The one-way ticket to Japan he encloses with the letter serves as a reminder of his invitation. We know that Eiji had every intention of seeing Ash again from his thoughts on the plane. What didn’t cross his mind at all was without a doubt that Ash would draw his last breath as he read Eiji’s heartfelt words.

When it comes to Ash’s death, I feel overwhelmed with a series of unanswered questions as I previously indicated here and here. For example…

When Sing can’t get Ash to say anything to Eiji, he can’t bear to face Eiji empty-handed so he sees him off with a few made-up parting words in Ash’s stead (Aww, isn’t he precious?). Does Eiji ever realize this? Can he tell that Sing made up Ash’s parting words? I think he can. So does he ever confront Sing about this before or after Garden of Light? Who knows.

And just how much does Eiji know about Ash’s death? He knows that his letter distracted Ash, so he didn’t see Lao coming. But does he know that Ash had read part of his letter by then and started running to the airport? Does he know that Ash went back to the library after getting wounded to read the rest of his letter? Does he know that Ash laid his head on his letter and died with a smile on his face?

I really wish for a “yes” to these questions.

To me, the story of Banana Fish is more antagonistic towards Eiji than Ash. Yes, all the bad stuff happen to Ash but he’s never shocked that they do. The leopard has learned how harsh the ascent can be. Eiji, on the other hand, believes he can save Ash from this shitty world. He is proven wrong a number of times but he never stops believing that. As I mentioned in the answer to this ask, if you think about it, in the end Ash dies just like he knew he would.

He is stabbed by a street thug who held a grudge against him and dies just like that. In the end, he couldn’t change his fate like Eiji tried to make him believe. In the end, the leopard couldn’t climb down the mountain. But what’s remarkable is that Eiji never surrenders to Ash’s fatalistic mindset even after his death. Not even once. He never says things like “He was right after all and I was wrong. He couldn’t change his fate and trouble never ever left him alone.” Instead he says this:

The End