#once again I'm not even necessarily scared of anything bad happening

[thethingything]

finally processing that we're probably gonna have to have these teeth removed with either sedation or general anaesthetic and unfortunately I have a phobia of both of these to the point where just thinking about it gives us panic attacks and I genuinely don't know what to do because I absolutely want to avoid this at all costs but we also might not have any other option

[sketch-guardian]

Both Angel and RAD classmates learning very early on that Mc saying “fuck it” or some variation of “fuck it” as in “fuck it we ball” “chucked/chucking it into the fuck it bucket” means something horrible is gonna happen not to them but some poor asshole of a demon they hear it and just slowly turn there heads to Mc before all hell breaks loose and Mc has a demon in a choke hold cussing them,their mother,their grandmother,their sister their great grandma etc basically Mc being a menace and not giving a single f if the demon or whoever is several heads taller and bigger they will win

I like how your MC wakes up every morning and chooses violence😂but considering what they're forced to endure every day, I'd say it's the least that can happen🙈I'll do my best to write good headcanons, sorry for the delay by the way😥:

"RAD CLASSMATES+NEW EXCHANGE STUDENTS WITH A MC WHO IS A MENACE"

DEMYA

Demya is quite the troublemaker and unlikely to back down from a challenge, so if she ever got into a fight, she would more than willingly fight tooth and nail, with adrenaline pumping through her veins, someone would just have to check she doesn't give a few too many bites. Being probably as much of a menace as MC, Demya would immediately understand from their words, almost as if they were a signal/warning, that a mess was about to break out and would rush to cheer for MC, finding their fighting style quite attractive, after all in her culture, flirting was mainly about showing off strength to prove oneself worthy as a mate. Demya would only intervene aggressively if MC was in trouble, even growling, but otherwise, she would congratulate them on their victory, exchanging a few hugs and kisses, especially on any bruises or scars. Furthermore, it's likely that they would escape before suffering any consequences, giggling like crazy

DOMNRA/MOBIM

Domnra isn't considered a delinquent without a reason, he sometimes gets into trouble and beatings with other annoying demons wouldn't necessarily be new, although he tries to be careful and avoid fighting with Mobim nearby, as the little curse would not approve and get scared. Domnra would immediately sense from MC's exclamations that a fight would break out soon and for once, both for fun and to release tension, Domnra would decide with a pointed smile to join MC in the fight, coordinating like a team, as partners in crime, while Mobim, safely on the sidelines, would cover its eye, clearly in distress, not wanting anyone to get hurt. It's likely that Domnra and MC would then end up in detention, together with Mobim, who would need lots of comfort, but it would be worth it in the end

AZUL

Azul is a chatterbox more than anything, an extrovert who loves attention and entertainment, although he has his quiet days due to his mood swings, so he wouldn't be a problematic student per se, apart from stupid jokes or moments of carelessness. If someone were to provoke MC, usually Azul, in order to avoid involving them and getting them into trouble, would roll up his sleeves, saying something like "I'm sorry dear, but I have to go and make a scene-" before publicly humiliating the other demon, making them lose the will to be seen around Devildom. At MC's first warning and swears, Azul would be slightly confused, thinking it was just their way of expressing themselves, but as soon as the fight broke out, he would let out a whistle and grimace at the sight of some blows, obviously rooting for MC. In the end, Azul would say that he found their attitude badass and that he wouldn't mind witnessing it again, as long as it doesn't bother their health too much. Azul would put some cute band-aids on MC's wounds as well

ZURI

Zuri is a reserved and diligent student in class, she doesn't speak often so conflicts are quite rare, however when they do happen, they are mostly resolved either through words or hypnotic powers in particularly tedious cases. MC would give Zuri a huge headache, not only due to their bad language, but also because of their tendency to get into physical fights with other demons. Not only MC would risk getting hurt, but also ruin their clothes and pay the consequences of their actions. If the situation degenerated greatly, Zuri would intervene with her hypnotic ability to ward off the offending demon and then, despite herself, she would try to put in a good word with the teachers for MC, to prevent them from getting into further trouble. Once home Zuri would criticize MC's recklessness while tending to their wounds, she would even raise an eyebrow, asking in exasperation if it was all part of a plan to impress her. Although it might result quite repetitive, Zuri would point out to MC that she won't always be able to be there to defend them if needed, so they should try to manage such outbursts better during lessons. Zuri would let out a soft praise if she noticed MC actually wanting her approval that badly

ODON

Odon technically, given their age, shouldn't even be in RAD, however there is always time to learn new things, it is also a strategy to try to meet more people and make new friends. The swears shouted by MC to another demon that they apparently are about to beat up would leave Odon slightly astonished, but they would not necessarily intervene, especially because a single glare from the eldritch abomination would be enough for the demon to back down. Odon would smile in a innocent way, but in the eyes of others they would still look like a murderer due to their big grin, making the demon in question regret all their life choices and beg MC for mercy. It wouldn't happen very often for MC to get involved in combat, considering Odon's reputation, but either way, they would show care in treating any wounds and wouldn't meddle too much in MC's affairs if they don't feel like talking, Odon would find MC's menacing nature by the way pretty endearing, except for the foul language almost used as a summoning circle

REMIEL

Remiel is a curious, innocent angel, such vocabulary does not belong to her and if not required for the sake of balance then she tries to avoid violence, usually resorting to words and deeds, furthermore seeing an upset angel of death would be both rare and disturbing, so many demons wouldn't be willing to risk it, despite her tender and somber appearance. Remiel wouldn't know many swear words, so at the beginning she wouldn't understand that MC is predicting the arrival of a disaster, over time she would learn to make the association between exclamations and facts, then she would gently try to dissuade MC from fighting, especially if the demon was sincere about their will to redeem themselves. MC's would also slightly remind Remiel of her uncle, Strife, due to their quirky personality

NATHANIEL

Nathaniel is extremely calm and docile, so much so that he is often mistaken for a statue, otherwise he's pretty chill and would let out a soft tired sigh at MC's swears, already expecting the worst from them. At the start of the fight, Nathaniel would watch the scene shrugging his shoulders and whistling as if nothing had happened if someone asked him to intervene, being an angel, in case MC had the worst, only in that case would Nathaniel get involved in the fight, blocking those directly involved from beating each other, even offering alternative solutions to the conflict, like a teacher or monk passing on his life lessons. Nathaniel's tested patience would be unnerving to see

URIEL

If you think Uriel would intervenes by seeing MC beating a demon senseless with the intent of stopping them, then you are very wrong. Uriel sometimes still feels resentment/prejudice towards demons, so she would be proud to see MC in action fighting one with their bare hands, a clear sign of their abilities, however she would not approve of such profanities expressed before the mess, finding them blasphemous, unnecessary and an offense against the doctrine of the Celestial Realm. Uriel would probably justify MC's actions and think about improving their technique or catchphrase. If the situation got out of hand, Uriel would obviously intervene with her sword to defend MC

[findmeinthefallair]

Retraumatization vs. Self-Soothing (Part 1)

There will be a Part 2 that focuses on new material from Watching and Dreaming. Warnings: Heavy discussion surrounding how trauma works, mentions of self-harm, suicidal ideation, death, effects of abuse and discussions about therapy (from my perspective as a practicing therapist).

Military training and preparation in Hunter's old life as the Golden Guard did not make room for two aspects of mental health issues: getting retraumatized, and how to self-soothe (which is rooted in relationships, not to be confused with the cognitive clarity that I imagine Belos expects from the elite Emperor's Coven).

Having a clear purpose laid out for him by Belos as a result of enmeshment with his parental figure...is what he was so used to, as evidenced by this line:

He lost that sense of purpose, since Belos betrayed him. It will take much reassurance for him - from external inspiration, and having it be internalized over time - to believe deep down that he is allowed total freedom to decide who he'd like to be.

First off, retraumatization:

You can be triggered but not necessarily experience retraumatization, sometimes it may be a partial episode, sometimes a full-blown episode. It is almost always unavoidable in complex trauma and can happen in unexpected places at unexpected times, even in therapy sessions.

Hunter was clearly retraumatized during his 2nd and 3rd panic attack scenes. In For the Future, I think the two scenes where he rages also count. All those scenes except the 3rd panic attack were partial retraumatization, but the haircut scene seems like a full-blown event where it's pretty obvious he's at risk of seriously hurting himself. He was reliving the unspeakable.

Examples of him being triggered but not retraumatized are when he saved Gus towards the end of Labyrinth Runners, and at the end of Clouds on the Horizon when he failed to save Luz.

I know from my own C-PTSD experiences that the intensity of such episodes can vary: ranging from a small annoying mental prick that is far away enough that I'm not even irritable or noticeably scared, to feeling like my soul has been torn apart all over again.

I personally think the most insidious part of complex trauma is the first number of years of its aftermath, like aftershocks which can be more damaging than the original events. Once you are safe from the immediate danger, grief settles in for real, you begin to see in retrospect how screwed up the events were, and you're in a minefield of painful reminders. Casually taking a second to consciously remember a tiny fraction of the events can be enough to reel you into being retraumatized.

For the rest of Hunter's life, there will be so many bad memories he retains. Some days he might be fine, but there could be days where saying Flapjack's name out loud might be enough for the floodgates to open. He might feel that he'll be fine in opening up to a new group of people about what happened, but once he begins he might find it hard to breathe again. If he's anything like me, he'll also be stricken by a bunch of nightmares about being trapped in places, or about people hating him and acting like he doesn't exist.

Some memories will be more notable than others, one of which is the searing memory of Belos's ultimate display of rejection (wanting to discard him once he asked "What did you do to the other guards?") and of abandoning him:

And I suppose the darkest of all, the muscle memory of the helplessness he experienced during the possession scene:

And the blame he'll inevitably place on himself deep down, despite his efforts to rationalize and convince himself that it was all Belos's doing. He has been tainted with moral injuries that have marked him for life. During life-altering events like this, there is usually a most upsetting split-second that a client can single out when they process it in therapy. It's even used as a narrative device of sorts in shows: here it's when we see the shadow on the ground showing him hurting Flapjack, and off the top of my head I remember it being a significant point in another show I like, The Sinner, which the plot built up towards. In trauma-informed modalities like Eye Movement Desensitization and Reprocessing (EMDR), the therapist literally gets the client to find this most upsetting mental image as if its a frame to single out in a mental video file, and will then measure how disturbed the client is. This is only done after 1) trust (rapport) can be clearly felt in the relationship between therapist and client, and 2) they get the client to put in a solid amount of practice imagining themselves in a safe space of their own choosing (which is like the opposite of a traumatic flashback: positive and deliberately created, not negative and automatic).

It's easy to identify what sensation Hunter would find the most upsetting:

Anything that might remind him of this tactile experience could open that doorway to feeling retraumatized.

*horrible cracking sound of palistrom wood being damaged* And it's almost like the web of awful reminders (internal and external) he has, will branch out of this worst exact moment.

Therefore his treatment plan would require much tailoring and room for variation depending on what kind of day he is having. A concern that his loved ones would have is of retraumatization like below, that presents the risk of self-harm:

Another concern is the risk of the terrible voice of C-PTSD whispering things to him, the inner critic that might be fed by survivor's guilt:

(E.g. "Why did Flapjack have to be the one to die? It should have been me. I don't deserve my loved ones. Maybe I shouldn't even exist")

or fed by Belos's gaslighting which definitely happened several times offscreen:

And: Hunter wants to learn how to carve palisman, a craft that will bring new meaning and fulfilment as he heals, but which won't be as easy as he'd like it to be.

I was astounded like crazy when looking back at this:

"Palismen bond through emotion. I do not sense any conviction from you." "Emotion" and "conviction"...

both of which are essential components of recovering from trauma.

It couldn't be more poignant to have the character in the show who endured the most trauma (if you count how in his old life, he stole palismen and sent them to their doom, to literally keep his abuser alive), want to be the successor of this craft. I think he will have to embrace "emotion", like never before. And "conviction" about his life direction.

If he ultimately shuts himself down, isolates himself, letting the grief imprison and encase him,

that would be the antithesis of the big speech he gave in Thanks to Them. But I know he'll have the amazing resilience to want to love and connect deeply. And to make sure Flapjack's sacrifice wasn't in vain.

I'm already thinking that whoever his therapist might be (and my god, I 100% say he needs one. I'd rather he not refuse therapy, though maybe he'd need a bit of time before he starts such sessions, because his case desperately requires someone properly equipped to untangle all that trauma).......they ought to establish the following:

Increasing his self-awareness, acknowledgment and acceptance of his mind and body. The frayed feeling of being hypervigilant. The scars covering his body. The talking aspect of the therapy will play a role in attaining this.

Recognizing internal and external trauma-related triggers and cues that may show up in his routine, to actively take self-care measures, e.g. he is unpleasantly reminded of something during an outdoor picnic with the others.

Going through skills such as containment and distress tolerance. Sometimes a therapy session can get scary enough that a client cannot feel safe taking their pain home with them. They can practice containment by visualizing themselves leaving their pain with the therapist for safekeeping. Eventually, the client can hopefully contain the pain themselves and bring it with them wherever they go. Distress tolerance examples include naming all objects of the same colour around you, or doing something nice for another person.

Being familiar with the specific self-care methods that work for him, since this will vary a lot from individual to individual.

In the first number of months learning how to carve in the workshop/wherever he'll be taught, he definitely should not be left unsupervised, not just because of inexperience in carving: but also in case of retraumatization. The simple act of merely touching any palistrom wood on a bad day might be enough to viscerally bring up the upsetting image of Flapjack being harmed.

A guardian figure (current best guess: Camila?) must be briefed on how to be present for him and what to do if he needs help during bad episodes, relapses or other emergencies. Said adult should join in the therapy sessions at times to reinforce trust and safety in Hunter's new world of officially being in a family. An adult is a far better choice because the other kids should not shoulder such a responsibility (i.e. being parentified like what happened to Hunter) as they process their own trauma, though they of course can help in smaller ways.

If he's wanting to make his own new palisman (very high chance that this will be canon), I bet people like Eda might want to run through that with him. It may not appear onscreen but the therapist could also discuss this with him in sessions because it'd be good to think through whether to allow some time to grieve Flapjack first, even down to details like discussing the meaning and intention of creating the new one, does he want the size and feel of the new one to be different, etc. Perhaps he should even bring the work-in-progress carving to therapy where the therapist can check how he's doing in real-time with the tactile experience of touching and feeling the wood in his hands, processing the likely fear he'll have of harming anymore palisman (yes, even the new ones he creates), especially with how things went with Flapjack. The underlying theme would be his new opportunities to create life vs. the trail of destruction he has been a part of via his association with Belos. His own hands have created things, and have not just played a role in damaging and destroying lives.

Looking into the kind of relationship he has with the idea of physical touch, since his body has been violated, since his being was reduced to an object and tool. Forming new associations to exist alongside the old associations, e.g. when carving a new palisman, it'll be a very long time before he'd ever engage in that without Flapjack even crossing his mind, if that's even a possibility. I have a good feeling that a new palisman of his own would naturally help him along in terms of keeping him calm and grounded using physical contact, by filling an additional role as his trauma support animal (Flapjack himself was undeniably an emotional support animal, like a war veteran's therapy dog). Therapy plus his support network could help him hold both the newly forming memories together with the old haunting ones: they can coexist, and logically the general intensity of the traumatic memories will decrease over time.

Biggest of all in my opinion, keeping him from falling into black-or-white thinking and catastrophizing especially re: the grief about Flapjack. Seeing how he is coping with feelings of grief, guilt and shame. He would be feeling guilty, like he is leaving Flapjack behind or like he is choosing to forget him (this pattern is common in bereavement), if he chooses to have another palisman of his own. But he needs to believe he can still make space for Flapjack in a new way, in his life. ("Black-or-white thinking" and "catastrophizing" are from a list of what's called Cognitive Distortions, a handy aspect of the commonly used Cognitive Behavioral Therapy theory, or CBT. You can easily look up the various types with a Google search) Finding ways to honor Flapjack, honor the good memories and integrate the bad ones. In the early weeks it will be a lot for him to remember specific times like this:

without being able to separate them from the worst memories of harming Flapjack, and the potential to spiral into retraumatization will be high. This poor teen might run into the "What's the point?"/"There's no point" depression wall which is a frequent sign of black-and-white thinking in recovering from trauma and grief.

There would be more on the above list for sure, but this is a substantial portion of it.

Next, self-soothing:

Self-soothing has not come naturally to him (yet), but he has had exposure to being soothed by others. There are also great clues that he needs this, such as the plushie he owns and keeps under his pillow.

Gus introduces one form of this to him, the square breathing technique, in Labyrinth Runners. Further practice to improve at self-soothing would be an upgrade beyond the basic actions we do on autopilot. An example of basic body language is Hunter slightly hugging his lower legs and bringing his knees up in front of his chest to feel safe here:

I think the root of him lacking the skills to effectively self-soothe is...he has not experienced secure attachment with a parent/guardian. Attachment theory (devised by John Bowlby in the 1950s and expanded upon in the many years after that period) has to do with how kids develop a sense of security and whether they can bond with and depend on responsive and responsible caregivers or not. There are four attachment styles, three of which are insecure compared to the healthy secure type of attachment. 1.Anxious attachment: Children with this kind of attachment have very high distress when a parental figure leaves and is absent. The kid may show needy behavior and have a low sense of self-worth, and struggle with the tension between craving closeness with others yet feeling they're unworthy of that.

2. Avoidant attachment: This usually means the parent prioritizes the child learning hyper-independence, and may punish the child for naturally asking for help. It would reach the point where such children avoid the parent, and even show no preference between said parent and complete strangers. Later in life, they may stay away from being vulnerable, appear to have high self-esteem but dismiss others' emotions which would lead to relationship issues.

3. Disorganized attachment: This style is where the parent was inconsistent and unpredictable, perhaps being both a source of comfort and fear, so the child's attachment pattern is reflected in a confusing mix of behaviors and being quite on edge. The world and the people in it would feel scary and unsafe for the child.

4. Secure attachment: As you can imagine, such kids would have had their needs attended to by a parent who has a calm, soothing presence.

My hunch is Hunter leans towards the disorganized category, since Belos is terrible like below, sending mixed messages and getting Hunter to fluctuate between seeking attachment and recoiling from it:

This takes us to the most important part of this analysis:

The need for warmth in Hunter's relationships.

A concept not incorporated into a toxic culture like the Emperor's Coven. But which is vital to truly facilitate deep trust, and is essential in what Hunter is looking for most: a family.

And such warmth is something that extends beyond words, detached analysis or a theoretical understanding, all of which are processed by the prefrontal cortex of the brain. It goes deeper into the realm of experiential understanding (and, physical affection is something that definitely lends to formative experiences), feeling trust and security, which of course is more subconscious.

Examples of putting self-soothing into practice include mindful walks, playing with a pet and journaling. Making it a deliberate routine to promote a good ability to self-soothe - not just using it whenever he is retraumatized - would significantly increase its effectiveness e.g. I advocate for Camila giving him a good morning and good night hug every day, and/or giving such hugs before he leaves the house and after he returns home 😭😭😭😭 Something like that being predictable for a C-PTSD survivor can work wonders.

He won't be used to self-soothing immediately but as he grows yet closer to his new family, particularly becoming securely attached to whoever will replace Belos as his guardian, his wounded inner child will be exposed to the warmth needed for healing. Soothing words to calm him on bad days, wonderful heartfelt hugs, to save him over and over again, like Luz's repeated "You're gonna be okay" from this past scene:

This is what he can take with him when he needs to self-soothe without immediate help being available.

It's certainly not the case that just because he lacked these key foundational ingredients in his years being a young scout and the Golden Guard, it means he is too late. Our brains have neuroplasticity, he can learn and still build a foundation with incredible people in his support network.

Plus. Plus! Related to the earlier section in which I speculated on the challenges he's up against when learning how to carve palismen: I have a good feeling that despite the painful memories and uncomfortable associations, plenty of room will be made for much beauty in that environment and profession. I think the creatures he brings to life will love him a ton, and give back the doses of love that he puts out into the world, via his craftsmanship and him providing something so meaningful for countless witches out there. It'll poetically be the opposite of the fear of the palismen he sent away in his old life, and the fear that followed him around like an overhead raincloud because Belos exerted control over him...and I'm a believer in love and fear being opposites. *cue: a mental image I now have of a bunch of adorable squeaking live palismen flocking to him as their creator...like puppies being excited to see an approaching person*

To wrap up, both the concepts explored above tie in with a concept I researched a bit for this analysis: community mental health.

It is defined by the American Psychological Association (APA) as activities that promote mental health that are performed in the community instead of institutional settings. I've experienced this as a peer support volunteer in a mental health charity's cooking and baking group in the past: it's a cool experience that has a distinctly different feel from sitting in therapy sessions, yet it's a good way to boost mental health. Having both in parallel is a powerful combo.

I'd put emphasis on the last bit of that definition, "instead of institutional settings", because early on I already thought to myself that Hunter, a cult survivor, should not be made in any way to feel as though his recovery progress is a test, evaluation or something performative. That might reinforce the sense of long-time isolation in the castle which he believed was normal before he met his friends.

Additionally it might be over-familiar territory for him to attach the notion of success vs. failure (applying that to his recovery process), to his worth. There's a hint of this in his reaction in Thanks to Them to not doing as well during Camila's brief pop quiz. The Emperor's Coven and everything it normalizes is the height of "institution". Lilith is obviously the other character who has been affected enough by Belos and how her mother treated her for so long, to be prone to the same issue. We see it in how she begs Luz for approval when learning how to use glyphs.

Usually therapy feels prescriptive and staged, unless the therapeutic alliance between therapist and client is strong. But sessions are filled with technical wording such as "skills", "management" and the like on a normal basis. Which is why if Hunter attends individual therapy, solely relying on that in isolation will not be beneficial. It must be paired with a healthy dose of community mental health care e.g. events in markets, schools and notable public places that will have a more organic feel to it.

He needs variety in his treatment plan to dismantle the effects of the Emperor's Coven's fearmongering and rigidity. Variety can intuitively and wordlessly convey to him that life is meant to be lived, not survived. An in-between blend that involves a professional setting like individual therapy but also the community element would be group therapy, which I imagine is a given for so many people on the Isles after the great danger passes in the finale.

Belos's tyrannical reign has left everyone on the Boiling Isles with grief and confusion. It has left the worst scars on not just Luz but also Hunter, since the latter previously operated on the same side as Belos, and unknowingly advocated for a cause that he realized was the opposite of what he felt is right.

Community counteracts isolation and reminds Hunter that he is part of something bigger. There will always be spaces in which he can create something new, enjoy laughter as great medicine, and be heard and accepted.

The second and final part of this topic will be uploaded after Watching and Dreaming. I hope this first part was informative to read.

[mar3ggiata]

professional help, introduction.

simon riley x original character.

trigger warnings: violence, sexual assault, mentions of rape, mentions of death, trauma, sexual themes, swearing, use of alcohol and drugs, mafia - type organisations, eating disorders, depression, heavy mentions of gruesome death, abortions.

song to listen to when reading this: Dolcenera, Fabrizio de Andrè.

Black that carries away, that carries away the way,

black not seen in an entire lifetime,

so sweetblack, black, black that beats you up, that knocks down the doors.

The first time he ever saw her, she was crying. No, not necessarily crying, she was in a weird state of shock and terror. She was angry, more than anything. She looked like a demonic bunny, she was sweet and gentle but the look of pure rage on her face nearly scared him. His captain asked him to give her a ride to her house, it wasn't safe for her to drive in that condition. He thought she was his daughter he never knew about. Take one of the cars, he said, would you please get her out of here? He sensed something strange in his voice. Worry or, perhaps, guilt. What happened? Who was she, was she in danger? Why? The captain turned towards her, slightly slouching to get at her eye level. He couldn't really hear what he was saying, something along the lines of 'I trust him' and 'you don't worry, he'll get you home'. She looked at him like she was gonna jump on him and eat him alive, bite his neck and rip his skull open. Then she looked up at Ghost like he was going to be her next victim, right after his captain. She stood silent, fists curled with rage at her sides. She was small, short. She had a bag with her, large enough to fit a laptop. Did she work there? She was wearing smart attire, a blazer jacket a turtleneck, shiny black shoes. Was she a doctor? A lawyer? She's too young to be a lawyer, how old is she, 22? 24?

Black of bad luck, that kills and moves on,

black like the misfortune of making a den where there’s no moon, moon,

black of bitterness.

'This way' that's all he said. She was following him, dead serious. This is what weird nightmares that hunt you for the entire week look like. She walked with her back straight, she walked fast. Who is this, he continued to ask himself. He couldn't ask her for sure, he didn't want to die just yet. How come I never saw you? What did you do?

'Are you alright?' he finally asked when they approached one of the black trucks in the parking lot of the base. She spoke for the first time. Her voice was of someone who had been screaming and crying. 'Drive' she said, her voice raspy but her tone steady and firm. He watched her close the car door on the passenger side, she kept looking at the base behind them. Is someone after you? What happened, are you being followed is that why is not safe for you to get home by yourself? He did as she said, without replying. Her eyes stood fixated on the base that kept getting farther away from them as they took off, driving towards the city center. If she lived there, it would probably take them about 20 minutes to get there, through the desert. She seemed to slightly relax once they were deep in the deserted street, going just 10km/h over the speed limit. No one was on the road. She had her hands pressed between her thighs, to prevent them from shaking. She looked straight ahead of her. If he didn't kept glancing at her, he could have sworn she was a ghost.

He never managed to know what had happened, nor who she was. She vanished. No one ever spoke about that evening and he never saw her again. That is, until today.

notes: he could have sworn she was a Ghost babyyyy. brace yourselves this story will be long, I have a lot to say. my name is mare, first of all, i use she/her pronouns and english is not my first language!! I have no idea how to work with Tumblr, please bare with me I'm new, I don't know anything, teach me... the story is ongoing, however I have many chapters prepared. also, everything is fictional, every place, person, mission, everyone is fake. if you see similarities with the real world, it's a coincidence. these characters are not real. there will be a lot of detail, new people, characters I made up along with the original ones and notes at the end of each chapter. I do not consent to this work being re-published or translated. if you don't like how I portray the characters, don't read the story. if I make mistakes, do tell me. please read the trigger warnings because it might get violent and I am not responsible for your media consumption. the main character is an original character which I created, she has a name and is described physically in detail. enjoyy.

notes: song concept: "Dolcenera" is about a tryst that never came about due to the disruption of a major flood, such as occurred in Genoa in 1970. The term "dolcenera" refers to the dual nature of water - sweet when it is pure and life-giving, and black when it is fouled and out of control as in a flood.

[birdy-the-tweet]

❄️•Nexocember•❄️

Day 3 - Monster

Another writing prompt for Day 3 of Nexocember! Today, I'm gonna delve a little into the future of the rewrite and in the climax of Aaron's story arc as he makes his final stride on the path to meet his end at the hands of the Green Knight.

Firefox mentions below as well! I think that's the ship name for Macy and Aaron? I dunno, I love a good DnD pun so I call them Drakewarden. Y'know, after Drakewarden Ranger- yeah okay I'll shut up.

Enjoy!

————————————————————————

Time Stamp: S7 E7 - Same Mistake

Not once in his life had he ever called a single person, machine, creature, or beast a monster.

It was like how some people refused to say they “hated” someone when “greatly dislike” or “not fond of” worked just fine instead. The word “monster” was more than just a label scholars would throw around when discussing the great trials and tribulations of Knighton’s formation and cementing. It described the actions of a man as so vile and horrid, they couldn’t be deemed human for thinking any of their decisions were sane or morally right. It was one thing to be a bad person, perhaps even troubled or misguided, but to be a monster… To Aaron, there was a threshold to reach before anything could earn that title.

He’d known plenty of bad people growing up. The knights who were stationed in Grindstead? No most of those were bad people, entitled jerks who flaunted their shields like it was the crown of the Halberts and dragged many civilians into poverty, anxiety, and servitude. Only recently did he get the chance to learn of a few knights who broke the modern criteria, his classmates included. None of them were bad people, not even Clay. Especially not Clay.

He wished he could’ve said goodbye to all of them.

Pacing tensely through the lush green domain of trees and life, the Emerald Knight approached an archway naturally crafted of eroded stone and slithering flower vines. He discarded his armor at the camp, now dressed in nothing but a worn down tunic, a pair of grime-stained trousers, and his only pair of shoes that survived long enough to reach this point of the journey. One year ago, a week or so before today, he stupidly made a deal with a fey to partake in a twisted game of fate. He killed the creature with a single swing of an axe. Now it was his turn to die.

Regrets fluttered in his mind like agitated wasps, gnawing at his brain as he drew closer to the unnerving ruins before him. He knew he should’ve said goodbye to his team. He knew he should’ve visited the place where they let Clay’s statue rest. He knew he should’ve been kinder to his parents instead of losing his temper during what he liked to call his Last Supper. He knew he should’ve told his siblings about what would happen to him, now knowing they would spend the next Candle Festival questioning why they didn’t receive a present from him.

He knew he should’ve said goodbye to Macy instead of leaving her at the campsite to wake up without him.

Hazy eyes stinging with exhaustion winced as he drew his gaze to the stone arch. Glimmers of blue danced around the mineral on soft gusts of morning wind. Butterflies. They were butterflies. He’d seen butterflies like those before. They would hover close around…

Yep. This was the right place. The Green Chapel, as the fey put it all that time ago.

A year of rancid dreams slaughtering his sleeping self time and time again in more excruciating ways than the last, now put to rest at the terror of knowing it was moments away from reality. This was it. The moment he stepped through the archway and into the greenery of the ruins, his life would come to an end. It didn’t scare him necessarily, for nothing did. But he wished he had more time to make his life more complete. An apology to Clay for being a thorn in his neck all these years would’ve been wonderful. A hug to Axl would make him worry less about his well being. And oh, what he’d give to see what was really under Dauntless’s mask. He should’ve kissed Macy too.

No. He couldn’t be thinking about those things, about the “what ifs” and “what could’ve beens”. There were a smorgasbord of achievements he collected like limited edition figurines over the years, and this year especially was in mint condition as Macy would say. He became a knight of the realm, something he didn’t think he’d enjoy at that time but grew to appreciate throughout the last few months. His unique talent for sports and parkour grew to astronomical levels, so much so he could scale the entire city of Knightonia without any more than a cut on his arm. While the stress of being the kingdom’s only protectors drained him of his smile from time to time, he got to see more of the realm in a span of five months than a normal coastline civilian would ever see in fifty years. He introduced Axl to the team and helped him become an official knight in training, and he rescued both Pola and Fred from their father’s schemes. The knights had battled lava monsters, stone lycans, vicious techno vampires, ocean spirits, giant kings; all of which wouldn't have been possible without the unintentional family they all had become. With Robin and Ava's intelligence and ingenuity, Merlok's guidance and magic, Axl and Flint's contributions as a sixth knight and a spy against the enemy, and the long, strenuous marathon of growth and teamwork the five of them had developed over almost five years, why, the kingdom would've been in much worse shape.

They were a family now. He couldn't deny it now that he gave it more thought at his final moments. Even though he was forced into a role that gave him more heart ache, stress, anger, and injustice than a woman fisherman working among monster hunters, he wouldn't have changed a single moment of his late adolescence and early adulthood. It humbled him - in an odd way - and made him aware of his fragility and humanity. He found the love of his life, he made some killer friends at the academy, he traveled the realm and witnessed spectacles and horrors beyond the imagination. But if he could wish for anything, he'd want a future with those people. Just one more day would've been great. He'd make it the best day of his life even if it was his last.

"Green Knight?!" bellowed the ginger haired knight into the wind, the breeze catching his words and whisking them into the heart of the empty clearing. When silence answered, he felt a boiling tinge of unease. "I'm here! A little late, but had some detouring to do. You're not exactly good at giving directions, ya know."

More silence. Nothing. Absolutely nothing. For the love of the storm, he hated this. Not even the Fortrex at the dead of night was this quiet; there was always a gentle hum in the RV's walls and enough snoring to keep his mind calm. Where was this fey? It told him to find him at the Green Chapel, did it not? It was like it wanted him to lose his sanity before dealing the final blow, like it found it funny to watch him unravel into broken breaths and trembling limbs. He could already feel the headache from the lack of air pooling his lungs like a shallow low tide.

All of his optimism had been wasted on an idiotic idea that maybe, just maybe, he could weasel his way out of his doom. Maybe if he showed the creature he was worth sparing, or maybe if he showed kindness and courage, he'd be fine. But again, silence answered. It didn't care. Of course it didn't care. It just wanted to shed blood.

Clenching his teeth and stifling a snarl behind a low, guttural exhale, Aaron barked at the wind. "HEY. WHERE ARE YOU?? You made me go all this way for NOTHING OR SOMETHING?? What, chickening out now?? I thought you were SO THRILLED to kill me! Having second thoughts now?? You made me think I was gonna die in some horrible way all year long for NOTHING? WHERE IN GOD'S BLOOD ARE YOU YOU A-"

A creak of wood groaned through the canopy, stealing his breath before he could finish his sentence. His jaw rattled as he inhaled unstably and craned his head to the branches above his head. Not all of the branches were... branches.

It was exactly how his dreams played out. A head crowned in wooden horns twitched like an ant infected by cordyceps. Some of the tree limbs twisted and unraveled from the trunks, revealing a pair of massive fingers made of the same wooden material as buried roots. Growls and moans hoarsely crackled through the bark of the creature hoisting itself from the shadows.

His blood ran cold, feet frozen in the earth despite not processing fear from its presence. It took its time to show itself. No, it waited until he lost his temper to show itself. This was nothing but a game, a fey prank in the most horrendous form, and he was the victim of the emotional turmoil it found so deliciously amusing. He felt so stupid for ever thinking it would ever have the heart to spare him. All the insomnia, the stress, the dread of knowing he wouldn't see the flowers of spring, the loss of appetite and nausea after nightmares made him nothing more than a lunch for the beast, the breakdowns, the apologies to loved ones, and every day he had to wear a fake smile just so nobody would worry when the time came for him to vanish; the fey didn't care. It was all entertainment. It was all part of the game.

Not once in his life had he ever called a single person, machine, creature, or beast a monster.

But in that moment, when the Green Knight lowered itself from the canopy of the woodlands and glared down at him with a skeletal mask for a wooden face, only one thing left Aaron's mouth.

"...oh you monster."

[mattybstqrn]

𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐧 - 𝐀.𝐖

𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: 𝚔𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚊 𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚎 𝚋𝚒𝚝, 𝙿𝚃𝚂𝙳, 𝚝𝚘𝚡𝚒𝚌 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚜?

Female Reader x Alex Walter

Y/n sat on the Walter family's couch; she was genuinely scared of the boys in front of her as they argued. Usually, she was used to the Walter and Garcia brothers fighting and she wasn't as scared, but she was terrified of how the boys were fighting, they weren't fighting with their fists, and it wasn't anything serious, but they were taking it pretty seriously and she didn't like it one bit.

Y/n wasn't usually this scared when the boys fought, but she was also very sensitive and did not like when people yelled at her or around, it reminded her of her parents, and it brought back terrible memories, that no one wanted to ever think of.

So, when the boys started fighting over their stupid video games, she ran out the front door in tears from how scared she was of all the yelling, she ran straight to the loft and didn't stop till she reached the very top and hid in the corner, where she cried.

She didn't want to seem dramatic, but she knew she was being dramatic, and she hated it, she knew that the boys knew that she hated when things like that happened, and they promised that they wouldn't yell around her, but they did, and she was scared out of her mind.

Alex stood in the living room, kind of shocked at his siblings and cousins, they were all yelling at each other, some yelling to stop and some yelling back. He knew they (Isaac) was mad at them (Cole, and the game) but he didn't think he was that mad to be yelling like some maniac, and even though, Danny, Nathan, and Lee, were yelling at the boy to calm down he wasn't listening and continued to yell which caused Y/n to run out.

Alex looked at his girlfriend as she ran out with tears, he didn't know what to do to help her, but he knew that before he left, he had to put his brothers and cousin in check so that it wouldn't happen again.

"Hey!"

Ignored.

"Hello!?! Everyone shut up!" Alex yelled getting everyone's attention, he usually wasn't one to yell but he had to get their attention, "You guys are going insane all over some stupid video game, you guys didn't even realize that Y/n ran out crying because of how scared she was!" Alex exclaimed pointing out the fact that his girlfriend was now gone, leaving everyone feeling bad, Isaac especially since they are best friends.

"Or do you not remember what her parents did to her? All the yelling and screaming? you guys probably sound just like them right now and she's probably scared out of her mind," he continued.

"I'm sorry but Cole-"

"I don't care about Cole or the game, I think you should give her some time and then go apologize and, in the meantime, I'm gonna go calm her down and I'll let you know when she's ready," Alex instructed before walking to the front door and then running out to look for his girlfriend.

He knew exactly where she was, she was up in the loft, she went there when she was feeling sad, lonely, depressed, or scared, especially when she was scared, it was like her safe space, and even though it wasn't necessarily hers, but she always felt safe there.

So, when Alex climbed up the ladder, he knew she'd be right there in her little corner where she sat leaning her head against the wall for some type of comfort as she hugged her knees for some extra comfort. He was right though, she sat there hugging her knees as she cried into them.

Y/n sat in the corner crying until she heard a noise, and she immediately knew that it was her boyfriend once he came into her view she sniffled, stood up, and ran over to him. Wrapping her arms around his neck and his going around her waist as she cried into the crook of his neck.

"What's wrong?" he asked, she immediately started sobbing again and explained that all of the yelling made her think of her parents and she hated it and she just cried, "Shh, it's okay, I'm here, I got you," he soothed her as she cried bringing the two over to a bean bag where they sat, her on his lap cuddling into him as he sat down rubbing circles on her back as she cried. He kissed her forehead as she cried trying to calm her down in a way.

He let her cry for a few minutes, he just wanted to be there for her as she cried, so he rubbed her back, soothed her, and comforted her as she cried and then after a few minutes they did some breathing techniques which usually helped her, this time it was a little harder for her to stop crying but they got there and she stopped.

"Are you okay?" he asked as she let out a deep breathe, "I think so," she replied looking up at the boy, his eyes looked beautiful, and she couldn't help but stare, "How about we read some Game of Thrones?" he suggested picking up the book that sat on the table beside them, snapping the girl out of her thoughts, he knew that the book usually calmed the girl down and put her to sleep after she cried.

"I think that would help," she nodded, "I think so too," he softly chuckled opening the book and starting where they left off. She kissed him on the lips, and he gladly returned the kiss after a few seconds they broke away and he started to read.

Y/n didn't pay attention to the book, but just listened to the sound of his voice, and she already felt calm, and the book started to put her to sleep and before you know it, she was knocked out on his lap with her head resting on his shoulder.

He wasn't complaining, as long as she didn't drool, he didn't care, just as long as she was okay and there was no drool everything was perfect.

Later that day Y/n woke up still in the loft lying on Alex's lap as he also slept, it wasn't the most comfortable sleeping position for either of them, but deep down they didn't care.

She moved off the boy's lap careful not to wake him, but he did, the two talked for a little and then went back to the house to see everyone getting ready for dinner. Y/n figured it was time to go home, even though she didn't want to, she didn't want to get in trouble.

She said bye to everyone and gave Alex one last kiss before making her way outside to her car, but Isaac caught up to her before she could leave, "I just wanted to say that I'm sorry, Y/n, I didn't mean to yell, I just got mad at Cole and the game, and everyone was yelling at me, and it made me mad and... I'm sorry, Y/n,"

"It's okay, Isaac, I get it, I was just being a baby, it's okay, I shouldn't have a made a big deal out of it,"

"Why are you apologizing? I'm the one that should be apologizing," he asked confused, he never understood why she apologized for things she didn't do, no one did but she did it because she always thought everything was her fault and even if it wasn't she had just gotten so used to apologizing, she just couldn't stop, "It doesn't matter, I forgive you, Isaac, but I should get going, I'll see you tomorrow," she said before making her way to her car and back to her house.

[nightowl33art]

Old recording found.

Since I'm meeting my new therapist tomorrow, I decided to sort my evidence and update anything important. While looking through voice recordings, I found a nearly 23 minute long monologue from Dionysus on August 23, 2023. I listened to the whole thing. Couldn't find it in written form anywhere so I assume he said it all on the spot. I feel bad. You can really hear the pain in his voice. He sounded awful. I do not remember this recording, nor do I remember what upset him so bad. It appears though that this was around his first fronting session after figuring out he was his own. I've decided to transcribe it because it hits hard. Mostly accurate.

"I've encountered a lot of terrifying things in my life. Some more terrific than others. Some things strike more fear into my heart than others. But none, I believe, are quite as terrifying as the man in my DNA. The thing that contributed to my very being... somehow a monster in my own house... at least once.

Growing up, I was scared. Home was a war zone and you weren't ever fully safe. Not when he was around. Not when he wanted you. Somehow.. somehow, he gained so much power, that he took the very essentials- the things that made you- the fundamentals of your very being, and he twisted it into an ugly mush. Now I'm stuck with that mush for my whole life.

I look at it. Sometimes I let it consume me, and I'm scared when it does. I'm consumed by the fear. The one swift motion, and my entire body tenses up. I'm scared once again. Then I forget it all. I forget it happens. I can't remember how I felt until it's too late, and the cycle repeats. I feel the same terror over and over. It never quite sticks.

I'm always fearing him. I'm always a bit scared. More importantly, because of the way he twisted my entire life into an ugly mess- the way he made my beliefs built on lies, deception, manipulation at every corner.

I sit here with hatred. A seething, burning hatred. So much that it'll burn every bit of my being. A fire so big, soul-raging, that I don't know what to do with it. And so it splits, into someone else, in a different part of the mind. That rage can be its own thing. It doesn't have to be anyone else.

I wonder where you'll end up some years from now. Where will you be when you get older? What do you want to do when you grow up? Lord I never knew. Until I did. The very purpose of my life came to me one night. I don't know where, or when, or why exactly, but I knew I was to be an entertainer. I would make everyone happy. And I would myself happy doing just that. It didn't matter the rhyme, the reason, the meaning, the medium, or necessarily even the time. I just knew that I would.

I'm afraid. Is it wrong to be afraid? Shadows.. shadows aren't terrifying at all. Little things you used to fear, thinking ghosts were real and monsters lurked out there. None of them could compare... to the monster at home. It makes you wonder. How such a person can even exist. How can such a cruel man be real? I can't exactly remember the last time I felt this way. I just know I have. And at this point, I'm tired. We're all very tired and we want it to stop. It hurts our head. It hurts our body. We're anxious.

I saw him complaining to me, about her, but I could feel my body, the anxiety coursing through. I could feel my heart pick up. I could tell I needed to breathe more air. But I couldn't break until he was gone. So I stare at him, agreeable, manageable, quiet, frowning, maybe a little depressed sounding. But whatever you want, whatever you say, just to get him out. It feels nice when he leaves. You feel free again, you can breathe again, when he exits out that door. And you can safely lock it behind him.

What did I do? I didn't do anything to deserve this pain, this torment. Yet I live in anguish. This much he says and he doesn't... this is torture. This is real life and it's a waking nightmare with him around. This is scarier than anything I think I could dream up. Just about anything.

I think one of the only things that could be scarier than this, is losing absolutely everything I have to him. And I'd have to relinquish control, what little control I have over my own life right now, to him. I don't want to be his puppet. I don't want to lose what I have. I might not have all the [?], but I have something. I've gotten a taste of freedom. It tasted pretty good. I don't wanna go numb and empty. I don't wanna feel dead in there anymore. I'm tired of feeling helpless, alone in a sense, trapped in this maze, this prison, forever. I want to get out so badly. I want to escape. It's all so close and yet so far away.

But I can get there. Cause as much as he calls me frail and weak, I'm a lot stronger than he thinks. I'm a lot tougher than he thinks I am.

It's true, I don't know everything. But neither does he. And I doubt that he knows everything. He acts like he knows best. He's a weathered, traveled, experienced man who knows exactly what makes the world go round, what makes it work. But I've spoken to other people, I've seen things. I don't think that's quite how it works. I just have to learn not to be afraid of what's out there. To step out and take that dive. Cause if I get too scared, if I clamp up, I'm gonna be stuck with him. Whether he wants to admit it or not, he'll be controlling me, just as he's always wanted to do.

I don't get it. I don't get what's with him. It's probably the narcissism, if I'm honest. So full of himself, so manipulative, he doesn't care. He can't see. And he says he cares... he says he does all this stuff because he loves us... Why would you threaten to kick your kid out if you loved them?

I don't know what love is. I sure as hell know it's not that- it can't be that. Love is real care, understanding. You might not know how someone ticks exactly, but you'll at least try to learn. You care about their well being, but you don't do it on a superficial level.

You never took the time to get to know us. And now, even when you try, you won't get in. Cause we've learned, we know better by now. We don't trust you, we don't like you, we don't love you, but that's your own fault.

I don't know when I'll get out of here, but I know I will. Cause that's what I've been aiming for ever since I've figured it out. This dream, it ain't right. This isn't how it's supposed to be in a normal, loving family.

I don't know. I don't know if I wanna think my father loves me for real, as much as it is that he loves the idea of what I could be. Cause if I'm not a trophy, if I ain't fit to be a bragging right, what good am I? Instead we disappoint, we disgust, we make him sad. And I just don't CARE if you're sad, I don't care if you're disappointed. I've grown past that at this point. It used to hurt hearing those things but I got over it. Cause I figured it out. It's not worth it. It doesn't matter what you want, it don't matter what you like.

I'm not saying I'm gonna go out there, get a tattoo, gamble my savings away. Although it sure would be funny, gambling all his money for me away after he dies. I know better. I don't plan on any of that. But his way doesn't have to be the right way. Doesn't have to be the only way. I know a lot of things are obscured, and I can't see everything completely. A lot of this looks invisible to me because of the way I was raised. But I know there are more ways than one. I know there's other ways to live life. They aren't in his book.

I wanna explore. I wanna go out on my own. I don't wanna be tied down by some madman who only really thinks of himself. He says it's for our good, he says it's cause he loves us. I don't understand how love can twist you so horribly. You're just a narcissist and you're just selfish. If you ain't a narcissist, you're awful narcissistic-like. And it hurts and I wish you'd see how much it hurts. How draining it is to be nearby you. How painful it is, in a sense, to be you.

I didn't ask to be born. And yet because I am born, I have to suffer the consequences of it. I have to live a life of threats and fear, because half of my DNA is his. And he's too stupidly stubborn and "loving" to let us go. To kick us out, to disown us all already. He's so stupid. He doesn't realize... he thinks he's the smartest guy in the world. Makes my head spin.

I don't understand everything. I don't know if I ever will understand. The brain wants to rationalize, but... there isn't much to rationalize about here. He's just... so into himself. That's just how it is. And I'm left alone with my thoughts. The other men that aren't quite me. We're here for each other. At least we're not him.

Cause one day he's gonna get what's coming to him. He's gonna be left in the dust. And maybe, maybe just maybe, I'll never have to speak to him again. That'll be a great, joyous day. No matter how it goes, I'm gonna celebrate that goddamn event. Whether it's big and loud, or quiet. Whether I'm scared from it, or I'm empowered, either way: I'm free. And I can breathe. And finally... I can heal. The nightmare has ended. The pain, the torment, will go away.

It's just a matter of time and determination. Finding the right opportunities to make a move. And he won't know till it's too late. And his pawn will be gone. I'm gonna learn, I'm gonna make my mistakes, I'm gonna get my hands dirty. But it's all gonna be me. No one else can influence those decisions. If we wanna do what we wanna do, then we're gonna do it.

Perhaps I'll celebrate when you keel over. Life will be better when we're out of your picture. Cause we can't move you, but we can certainly get around you. You try to block the exist door. You try to cover it in curtains and couches. You try to take that very thing away from us. There's always another way around. And you can't stop me from getting my justice. And if all that is is getting out of here, then by golly, let it be. This is not the end. I will get out of here. And when I do, life's gonna be lovely, I just know it."

[crossdressingdeath]

Astarion: The Urges are calling on you again, aren't they? I haven't seen you sleep through the night once in the past days. Kyvir: Don't be alarmed... but I've divined with near certainty that Lord Bhaal is my Father. Astarion: I knew you had some nasty habits, but I didn't want to pry overmuch. But, bloody hells, a Bhaalspawn? Astarion: Probably more Baldurian parents scare their children with stories of your kind than mine. Astarion: I thought your kind was extinct. Goes to show, you should always check your facts. Astarion: So... how are you feeling? Keen to reconnect with your family? Or ready to throw yourself in an oubliette? Kyvir: I'm very afraid. How can I stand up to a god? He wants me to cause carnage. Astarion: You know, I didn't realise you and I were so alike. Astarion: I - I felt paralysed to do anything about Cazador for so many decades. Astarion: I gave up on myself. I gave up on any hope of escape after a few lashes. Astarion: Bhaal controls you in much the same way. Astarion: I don't know how you can beat him, but I do know this: you must try. Astarion: The half-life of a mind-addled slave is worse than death - don't become his. I wouldn't live another century as one for all the moonstones in Evereska.

I love how Astarion (or presumably whoever you're romancing, this seems like a romance thing) actually notices that you've been having even more trouble sleeping than normal after the whole Bhaalspawn reveal happens. Everyone else you have to tell, but your lover knows something's up even if they don't know what. I guess they are the one who at least some of the time shares a bed with you, so they'd notice you having constant nightmares.

In Astarion's specific case... I guess you being Bhaalspawn is weird even for him. The Slayer was fine but this, this is a lot to take in. Maybe Bhaalspawn aren't monstrous enough for him? ...Okay, I'm mostly joking, but it is kind of funny that he's more concerned about Durge being Bhaalspawn than he is about them turning into a giant fuck-off monstrosity. Also, side note, interesting that Astarion thought Bhaalspawn were extinct; they're Bhaal's children, there not being any around doesn't necessarily make them extinct when Bhaal can just. have more.

Also I love how after the initial "What the fuck" response Astarion's response to learning you're Bhaalspawn and your daddy's the big bad is to acknowledge that the two of you have more in common than he realized. Bhaal has his hooks in you in a very similar way to the way Cazador had hooks in Astarion, he recognizes himself in your situation and he wants to help you get through that like how you're helping him work through the Cazador thing. I also love how he goes from "Yes, murder, what fun!" to "You have to fight this" the moment he learns that your desire to kill is coming from Bhaal rather than you. He's so encouraging about the murder thing, he's all for it beyond it not always being convenient for the group, but that's only when it's your murder thing and not Bhaal's murder thing. He's fine with you killing people, but he doesn't want you to be controlled to kill people. It's very good!

[confessionsofanundiscoveredwoman]

The struggle of falling in love and keeping it.

July 3rd

I haven't written here in a while, but I feel like a lot has happened in these last 3 months worth sharing about my life. I met someone. Someone who's sort of flipped my world around in a hundred different ways that I didn't even know was possible, I can't eat sometimes, I can't sleep. I feel like my world hasn't been the same since I started dating him. We both knew when we started dating each other that a lot of things would be uncertain about our future. My parents want to move and I'm not sure where I'll be in the next few months or so. I'm only 21 and don't necessarily know what the heck I'm doing with my life and where I wanna end up. All I know is the now, and right now I feel all the feelings. I had my first kiss. I had sex for the first time all in a matter of like a week lol. There's been a lot of firsts with this guy. He is 7 years older than me and he is definitely at a different stage of life than I am. I think that's what makes it so hard, knowing we are on different paths, wanting and expecting different things when it comes to love and relationships. I've never been in a relationship and hearing that someone wants to be with you forever is a very daunting feeling. I feel so much love for him, more than I ever thought I would. I was doubting it for the first two months too scared to actually feel anything because I was afraid it would be stripped away from me like a lot of great things that appear in and out of my life. I know that some of the best things in life can't always stick around and even when you love someone so deeply that doesn't mean you'll be able to make it work, or be with them forever. At least that's simply not the case for us.

I feel like I've always had this fear of being forgotten. And to think that people can go through life and fall in love multiple times and then move on just like that. Doing the same things you once did with someone else. I hate that, I hate that feeling that one day I'll have to say goodbye and he'll move on like every other past relationship he's had to do that with. I don't wanna be just another girl that gets left behind forgotten in ones memory as just a passing thing just a fling. I want it to be so hard for you to forget me that every time you start a new relationship I pop into your head some how some way something reminds you of me. Cause I know that it's the same case for me. I still think of the people who played such a big part in my life even 5 years after parting ways. How could I ever forget?

I just hope that our goodbye isn't a bad one, that we'll possibly see each other again down the line, in passing just for a glimpse of hope that some good things last. Please god let it last.

[fiymywings]

i wont drag this out too long i prommy but i just wanna get some of my ymkr thoughts out

the one thing im most sad about ymkr eos'ing is, karma and alma genuinely were one of the better (i wont say one of the best since "best" in context to a very personal disorder that changes person to person is very very subjective) DID reps, esp in mobage

karma isnt this murderous evil dude and he doesnt attack people at random or for fun or anything, hes cold sure but its very clear in story he holds resentment towards the world and himself for being the "evil" that he feels alma cant bare to hold himself and talks a lot about just wanting to disappear once his job is over which i think is smth that resonates with quite a few alters that hold onto the trauma of the system and protect the host both in one

alma isnt scared or afraid of karma either, both because of his own personality and emma's own word that karma isnt a bad guy

i also really liked that switch triggers didnt feel too janky, though it did lead to me also getting jumpscared With emma when karma did show up but i much prefer that over a 10 second thing where someone yells "HES MORBING!!!" or overemphasis on the switch, sometimes switches do feel overdramatic but a lot of the times it just kinda happens

and to reiterate on my point from "karma isnt murderous", while he does attack people in some of the stories, a lot of it is justified in that alma is about to get seriously injured and hes often trying to de-escalate with no results. this is Wildly Different from media where say the alter is killing people to relieve stress (COUGH.) or just attacks people for being mildly annoying (COUGH .) protective alters, surprisingly, tend to be much more harsher or strict on perceived threats than random people! thats their whole job!

i know from experience some people tend to be iffy on the whole two alter only system format but i really truly dont think the alter count really matters, CPTSD does tend to cause more issues with your identity in context to dissassociation but if someone only developed one extra person in their noggin despite everything then more power to them, im Still splitting even in my mid 20's because of horrific depressive episodes alongside me recovering from some other trauma i experienced

this doesnt necessarily make the 2 alter thing Unrealistic, but its a testament to how strong they are at heart and moreover how strong their traumaholder is for having kept themselves together and helping the system move together as only two. obviously some people will also only have some issue with the same trauma while others will develop really bad issues (i.e. alma developing a system from his families death while hollow seemingly only developed OCD tendencies as a trauma response)

i think the difference of circumstance kinda matters here because almas case was a genuine arson due to slander while hollows case was a genuine accident that he holds guilt over unknowingly feeling like if he'd just taken the machines apart the fire wouldnt have happened (speculation! i dont know if he ever actually came to this conclusion yet but ... well :,) )

ANYWAY . going forward due to my lack of knowledge on the main story i hesitate to say i'll continue to write alma and karma's/hollow's story in plot to ymkr, but i cant really bare to leave them behind either, so ill probably just keep writing them with my oc/sona (oc for hollow, sona for alma/karma) and continue developing them within what i can !!! i'll love them forever and no service end will ever change that for me \o/

again, i'll be trying to archive their things, but i will have to do so cautiously because my phone storage isnt infinite...

i don't know, i think i just need some time T_T;; this isnt the only thing i'm kinda grieving the loss of in the span of a few weeks, though as silly as it is considering the game isnt living breathing, because its so personal to me im actually feeling a bit pained about it + the back to back losses is kinda taking a toll on me so i'll just be logging in and doing what i can... ill start archiving in october since i have quite a bit of time to grind and get the last meister pieces to fully max out the recent hollow

[so-litudinal]

i miss it here, kinda

main two reasons i haven't been around are 1) my phone died a few weeks ago and 2) my only consistant thought these days(?) is that i wanna disappear, as in i don't wanna/can't live, and i feel bad about only posting depressing, suicidal stuff (which is ridiculous, since i created this blog over 10 years ago as an online personal diary — but i guess shame follows me anywhere i go). 

my phone had been messing up for a long while, i know i should've gotten a new one at least a year ago. but it had been holding on (barely) anyway so i kept putting it off, as i do everything you know. but then one night i stupidly dropped it in the stairs. it only fell down a couple of steps and i seemed to be able to turn it back on just fine (albeit slow). but the day after it kept turning off randomly, until i couldn't turn it on anymore at all. anyway. guy at the repair shop couldn't do anything. and since i'm the worst, i hadn't backed up anything. i thought i'd lost everything, but turned out at least pictures and videos were saved to my cloud. still, i lost all my notes + audio recordings. i don't care all that much about the audios except for one i took two years ago of junko purring in my bed a few days before she died [now that i write this…i have a vague feeling i might’ve posted the audio here at the time… but i’m kinda scared to go back and look, only to be let down again]. thought/hoped i'd saved it somewhere on a hard drive with all her pictures but couldn't find it. 

what i'm saddest about is losing my notes. repair shop guy said that if i’m lucky (big lol….) and if my phone was connected to a google account (??? idk, my mom told me cuz of course i didn’t go myself), i might be able to retrieve them once i got a new phone. i’m not sure if that was supposed to be about my notes being saved to a google drive or something, cuz that wasn’t the case anyway. so yeah. years and years of notes. i’m dumb, so dumb that i kinda deserved this happening to me (watch it not be a learning lesson, just like anything else). the notes i really cared about were the fanfiction drafts + artwork ideas. speaking of, sorta crazy that i’m ashamed to talk about writing fanfiction on this blog. i’ve always had this compulsory need to “split” my personality and interests across different online platforms—irl too. don’t really wanna dig into that here and now but yeah, it probably all stems from shame and deeply rooted self-contempt + fear of judgement from others, even though most of my online presence has consisted of my existing in and talking to the void. some of those notes dated all the way back to 2020. there were some that i wrote on my pc but the large majority stayed on my phone for easy access when i got random ideas in the middle of the night or in the shower. i really liked most of what i wrote, even the stuff i didn’t necessarily have the intention of finishing. took about a week to buy another phone but it’s been 2 weeks since that and i still haven’t used it. been using a tablet. i guess i get used to not having a phone cuz with the way i live, like a hermit, i don’t even have much need for a phone’s primary functionalities anyway. i don’t go out at this point and i pretty much never contact anyone anymore. but also, every time i think about those notes i’ve lost, i feel like “what’s the point?” what’s the point of a phone if i’m gonna be so dumb about it. also—and that’s even more pathetic—what’s the point of writing at all. i’ve had ideas and things i’ve wanted to write about in that time but even on the occasion that i do start (on pc), i systematically get to a point where i lose interest, or rather the motivation to continue and finish. i’m aware that this mindset is not only worryingly cynical and pessimistic but also sounds ridiculously dramatic, even to myself. but i think the reason why is because when anything even mildly inconveniencing or upsetting happens, that plays into my depression and lack of purpose/will to live, and vice versa. vicious circle and all that, you know. everything, including the positive actually, ultimately brings me back to the same point, the same conclusion—it’s not worth it, because all of it is wasted on me, whose my life isn’t worth much at all, and all of it goes away or ends up in the same dumpster of despair, nothing will last, whether i stay alive or disappear. not that i necessarily believe this way of thinking is reasonable, or even truthful—more that it doesn’t matter whether i believe in it or not, because it so strongly influences, if not dictates my perception of all things in life. so yeah, all of this over a dead phone and a bunch of lost writings, but also not really. worst thing is i haven’t even had the motivation to kick my butt and at the very least save the images and videos from my cloud onto a hard drive yet. i’m gonna regret this. …i say, as i sit back and once again consciously watch myself doing the thing that will only lead to more regret and self-hatred. heheh. queen of self-sabotage.

speaking of things that i seemingly can’t react to in an appropriate, normal human way… on the 31st of last month, the gacha i game i’ve been playing every day for the past 3.5 years was announced for eos by the end of september. i mean. there’s more than one valid reason to be upset over this, for just about any other fan. and the series it’s based on has been so, so important to me for the past 4 years (see how i intentionally don’t name it like "here is not the place for that”? yeah). but idk. the fact that i was so shell-shocked by the news and once again left with the feeling that nothing is worth getting attached to…. i know this kind of response is disproportionate. pathetic. not healthy. not normal. i’ve gotten a bit more used to the perspective since—at least for now, cuz i can very well envision going back into full woe is me mode as the date of eos gets near.

there are 2 other observations, or whatever i should call them, i can make from this reaction. 1) not being able to access something (probably even more so since it’s a form of escapism) that’s been part of my life, without missing a day since creating the account on december 31st, 2020, makes it glaringly obvious how empty and repetitive my days are and have been for an embarrassing amount of time now—the worst part being that i’ve found some sick, sick sense of comfort in it being and staying so (anything else is….terrifying and something i can’t allow myself to aim for).

2) i’ve had this vague feeling for a while but never really bothered to put it into words until recently but the more my interest about a certain thing grows, the more i’m susceptible to become unsatisfied, not with the thing itself, but with myself and the way i engage with it. very passively—like i effectively let it pass me by like i do anything else in life. i don’t usually want to admit it cuz it’s a bad character trait of mine, but i’ve kind of accepted that i find no real joy in sharing an interest with other people, engaging with them over this thing we presumably have in common. i’m the worst, so ugly for that, because it’s obviously an envy/jealousy thing. but also i tend to wanna cut myself some slack (self-indulgent?) regarding that specific thing cuz i’m pretty sure it also comes from my overall lack of social skills—which, at its root, is not my fault (severe bullying at a young, crucial age + prolonged and repeated child neglect). i know that it has now, in my adult age, become my responsibility to address and grow past those traumas and their consequences, especially assuming i still have hope for a life worth living (not taking the “do i?” factor in consideration here for the sake of this argument). my generation wasn’t exactly born with the internet but we did, at least partially, grow up with it, and it’s now such a(n unnecessarily?) huge part of our daily life, just like younger generations. i mean, talking about generations is probably pointless—what matters is that this was effectively my experience with the internet. so yeah, all that to say that i’ve had an “online presence” (not just as an occasional user of computers/the internet as mere practical, communication, sometimes educational, even more rarely entertainment tools) from my early teens, if not earlier, via blogs and now ancient forms of social media lol (msn, i’ll always have nostalgia for you—but please don’t come back). anyway. my point being… i’ve been using the internet as a hyper-social shared space for a long time, and there’s something that i’ve come to realise has been true, if not from the start, at least more and more over time, and that i’ve had, still have a hard time recognising and accepting: i can’t connect with people online any more than i can in real life. i think i wished myself to be one of those people who, however socially awkward in real life, or even downright social outcasts, managed to find a place online. i never truly could. it’s gotten worse over this past decade (the worst these past 4 to 6 years), as i progressively lost touch with the outside world and became more and more isolated. all these factors, dating long back or recent, are reflected in my ongoing online experience. with social media, “online communities” (niches, fandoms, circles, etc.) as a concept are so prevalent, and it’s hard cuz never in my life have i had the feeling that i could belong to one in real life. i grew to even regard the idea of a community as something i had no desire to partake in (i don’t know if i still feel that way but thinking so is self-preservation). i remember for example, the lgbt community is one i never quite felt i wanted to identify with, beyond my orientation being what it is, even in my adolescence, and sure, that might’ve had something to do with my own internal struggles with my identity, but in a way, it also circled back to my aversion to social groups (which is very much based in trauma and not just me being an introvert). that naturally, and unfortunately, extended into my experience with online communities of all sorts. that being said… i think that as long as i accept this as a fact about myself, even a little, it’s tolerable and not that big of a deal. if it changes over time (that would require my irl circumstances to change first and, well…), fine, i guess. but if it doesn’t… idk. It’s still a bit sad. cuz the internet is a big part of my life, one that supposedly brings me joy in various forms (the most prevalent being escapism—and i refuse to let that go, why would i hurt myself in that way).

all that to say that this gacha game closing is just one of the instances that have brought me to think more about how to engage with the things i like in a more fulfilling manner. since connecting with others is not a viable option at this point (or maybe ever), i think the only way would be to be more proactive. make or acquire something—something of my own—out of those interests. like putting more effort into writing. learning how to draw/make art. become normal and earn money to collect more merch (tie-ins) so i can be physically surrounded by things that make me happy. create the space i could never find outside, inside. i don’t care if it’s not fully enough to make up for everything i feel like i’m missing out on, because it would still be better than the loneliness and bitterness i’ve been stuck with for the longest time.

i don’t really have any definite conclusion i draw from those observations, much less a plan of action, but i just kind of went off and wrote about them anyway, i guess. there’s that.

so yeah… well, you know.

aah it’s gonna be such a chore to read over this before posting…..probably won’t (or else i might just give up on posting entirely)......nevermind, i'm doing it now lol.

rare good news is that paimon seems to be on the tail end of a very long and intense moult. last time it was that bad was when i got her and she immediately underwent the very first moult of her life. at the worst of it, last month, maybe even the month before, she was so down. so quiet and skittish. i never even had an opportunity to touch her. and as always, i was scared it might be something else, like an illness, or even a stressed-induced moult. i’ve been scared that my own irregular, unhealthy lifestyle might start to impact her. i know i don’t deserve her. at the same time, i was hesitant to take her to the vet. she can be a pretty fearful bird to begin with, so i feared that having to go through that kind of stress (the trip itself, being in an unknown place, handled by a stranger) would only make her worse. in the end, the risk of that didn’t seem worth taking cuz there was a good chance the vet would’ve just said that it was indeed just a moult and it would’ve been all that anxiety for nothing. during the time it got really bad and she was completely distant, i started to wonder if this was a glimpse into what it would be like without her here anymore. i’d already been thinking before that i would probably not want to go on after her death and this… well. it feels very real. but she’s better now. i cried when she sat on my shoulder for the first time again, and when we started playing and she tried biting my fingers or my ear. the absolute best was getting to sniff her (there is not one better smell in the world than that of a bird) + petting her until she falls asleep in my hand. I love her very much.

going back to the whole notes and writing thing… i don’t easily let myself admit to positive thoughts and feelings (fear and defeatism, i guess). still, i wanna put out there, somewhere—here being as good a place as any—that i really like writing. it’s fun (especially when it “works” lol). and it’s one of the rare things i genuinely like doing for myself, regardless of the purpose, the quality, the destination. not even talking about what comes afterwards…

it’s one of the “better,” as in tangible, ways to distract myself i can think of (goes back to what i was saying about engaging with interests in a more productive way).

at least when i’m in the middle of writing, i’m having fun.

now that i’ve started, i don’t even wanna finish this right now. i could write more, too. but then it’ll get late and i’ll be frustrated for different reasons. and if i “leave it and come back later”... well, i know there’s a good chance it’ll end up in my drafts never to see the light of day again lol. and i did want to post something on this blog specifically cuz it’s a place dear to me on the internet. 

closing remarks: i’m thankful for cloud servers and birds always.

[youn9racha]

URMUSE.COM

pairing: sex worker!chan x afab client!reader

genre: smut

synopsis: your friends pity you for your lack of sex life and constant sexual frustration, so one of them offered a program where one could possibly make your fantasy a reality.

warning/disclaimer: chan is referred to as chris/christopher, mentions of sex work, "anonymous"/masked sex, piv, unprotected sex (wrap before you tap), whiny and shy sub!chan, insecure dom!reader, slight auralism/voice kink, oral sex, restraints, slight cum play, mentions of dacryphilia and cnc, edging, discussions of safe words (but not used), mentions of poly!minho and open relationships, labels (mistress/pup/good boy/etc.), praise, some cock slapping, felix being a flirt, reader goes by she/her, straight up porn with a little bit of a plot (but not really).

words: 5.5k

a/n: heavily inspired by that one thought i had and also @h0neydewmoon encouraged me with this filth so that’s that. i haven’t written straight up pwp in a bit, i didn’t really intend to make another chan smut (especially since most my work is chan related) but here we are once again. also, i'm sorry if there are some inaccuracies to anything when it comes to subjects of sex work. i tried my best to research, but if there's any inaccuracy, please respectfully call me out on it and i'll fix it up, but otherwise this is fictional so hope thats okay🙏🙏

taglist: @ethereallino, @h0neydewmoon, @lix-ables, @nightlychans

This is no way representative of the way Stray Kids act. They’re nothing but references of character, and in no shape or form is this how they act. And I am in no way romanticizing or glamorizing any toxic behavior exhibited, they’re just stories that is meant to be read. Readers discretion is advised.

The nightlife was soaring outside your apartment complex, you could almost hear the techno music blaring outside as the active night parties illuminates the futuristic city you live in. Skyscrapers project exciting ads and trailers mixing with the sounds of laughs and singing livened the city. It wasn’t like there was a holiday or anything of that sort, it was a regular weekend for everyone—it’s commonly known as the nights of the youngs as proclaimed by the party locals.

but you couldn’t be bothered to participate the night, unfortunately, as you sigh away your misery on Hyunjin’s thighs as you vent about your sex life, while your other friend, Minho, and Hyunjin just nod at your frustration as they listen attentively to you. You weren’t necessarily a prude or a virgin; you just happened to have bad luck when it comes to hooking up. It is ironic how you live in the city of parties yet have no game in the hooking up scene.

It wasn’t that you were against it, or afraid of people; you were merely scared of your fantasies and the judgments you would get. You never really had the safest concept in terms of what happens in the bedrooms, and you almost always happen to stay behind the rails to not scare away whoever your sex partner is. While you acknowledge that you don’t live in an era where expressing yourself was a sin, you still must be cautious about certain triggers one could have.

Minho and Hyunjin were very understanding and often try to let you know that there’s nothing with expressing yourself, but you were still very shy and maintained a shell tough to crack.

“How about we do it for you? I’m sure Hyunjin’s down for a threesome,” Minho once commented making you cringe at his statement and Hyunjin just widened his eyes at him shocked at the abrupt comment. You could never see yourself in that situation. Yes, the two men are good-looking and are—in your humble opinion—fuckable men for a lack of a better word, but you still can’t put yourself in friends with benefits situation with either.

And even if you didn’t care for that situation and the offer was up, it wasn’t like it’s going to do you any solid because Minho was in a committed relationship, and you weren’t about to be a homewrecker of a friend, meanwhile, Hyunjin was sort of “holding himself back” or whatever that meant. Either way, you wouldn’t take either in a heartbeat, no matter how desperate you may be; like how you are right now.

“(y/n), there is many fish in the sea who are willing to go through whatever kinks you’re into,” Minho said, speaking as if he was stating a common fact, while Hyunjin agrees as he twirls your hair, “yeah, you’re also really attractive, I feel like anyone would give you a pass,” Hyunjin adds.

You shook your head, “no, I can’t, I’m scared to make one freak out from my elaborate fantasies.”

“C’mon, I bet they’re not bad,” Hyunjin said, you got up and looked up at Hyunjin, “would you fuck someone to the point they’d start tearing up and telling you to stop but you still carry on either way because their helpless cries turn you on?”

Hyunjin just widened his eyes, attempting to process your questions as he stumbles and huffs out an answer.

“I would,” Minho affirms.

“You have a partner, Lino.” You grumbled, throwing your head back.

“So?” Minho crosses his arms, “we don’t mind having a plus one if you get my drift.”

“Don’t worry, sweetheart, you’ll find someone.” Hyunjin side-eyed Minho, before proceeding to comfort you. Minho could only knit his eyebrows at the two of you as he sits there uncertain before rolling his eyes, “alright fine, I actually have something that could help you two, but since you two—”

“Minho, no one’s interested in joining your open relationship,” Hyunjin argued back, while you face palmed yourself, knowing the headache that may come with the upcoming altercation that will ensue. Minho retorted back at Hyunjin and insisted that it wasn’t about his relationship, and this time he sounded more serious than previously.

“It’s this place called URMUSE. It’s where you basically fill out a form and you tell them what you like and then they book a room for you there to live out your fantasy with your desired ‘muse’. It’s like Disney world but for grown-ups.”

Hyunjin’s cringed-out expression deepened, thinking you’d react the same, but unbeknownst to him, you were slightly intrigued, hoping he’d carry further on with information. You never would have thought you’d resort to that level, but desperate calls call for desperate measures as one would say.

“Really, Minho? First off, never call a place like that ‘Disney world’ again. And second, you really think (y/n) would actually—”

“How do I get the reservation?” You interrupted Hyunjin, making the man astonished by your choice of interest.

Hyunjin knew you longer than Minho did, but to say you’d be down to go to a sex worker was a surprise to him, even Minho was slightly taken aback by your excitement—although he didn’t mind it. Hyunjin however was rather baffled by your abruption. It wasn’t that you were against the whole sex work thing, it was just not something you don’t about often, and you three knew this. But you were really desperate to let your demons, and what better way to take out your sexual frustration is on someone who’s an expert with these things?

“(y/n), are you serious?” Hyunjin asked, and you nodded at him, “yes, Hyunjin, I’m grown, I can make my decision.” With that, Hyunjin closed his open mouth, as if he wanted to say something but went against it before turning to his other friend.

“Now can you tell me more about the site?”

It had been a week since that encounter with Minho and Hyunjin and your mind is still at war on whether going to the site and getting a ‘muse’ was a good idea or not. While you were excited and up for it at first, you still drew yourself back as your self-doubts began acting up again. What if this place didn’t provide what you asked? What if it was a time and money waster and didn’t live up to your expectation? What if Minho is actually dragging you into a sex cult and you didn’t know?

The last question was farfetched, sure, but you wouldn’t know. You hate how you had to question everything and place yourself in a shell when it comes to sexual expression. You knew you weren’t going to get judged, but your mind constantly plays with your head with topics like this, by convincing you that you were a freak and a maniac for enjoying what you’re enjoying.

“Why would anyone like to get tied up or tying someone up? That’s some kidnapper shit,” your brain constantly teases you. But you knew you weren’t, you hear Minho’s experience with his partner—or partners—and Hyunjin’s past sexual experiences, and you couldn’t help but secretly get jealous of your friends for being carefree about their needs. Sure, they’re both men, and oftentimes nobody will bat an eyelash if a man expresses any sexual needs, but there is no time for commentary on this matter—you want to be railed or rail someone.

You sighed as you opened your computer and started to type away on your search engine, you muttered to yourself what you were typing and opened the first link that popped up.

“URMUSE—THE PLACE WHERE ALL YOUR FANTASIES COME TRUE!”

What an eerie welcome, you thought to yourself as you read the slogan. You scrolled away and inspected their whole site. You thought that the site was legit; it had easy-to-read sections, provides information about the muses and important guidelines, and the site seemed like it was like you were reserving for paradise rather than an organized brothel—it even carried reviews.

You seemed convinced enough to hover your mouse down to the “find your muse” option and clicked and the link opened to a form; just like how Minho described it. Minho knew about this site because he used to be an active member and was even offered to work there as their muse only for him to reject as he wasn’t interested, which adds to the authenticity of this place. Now you were staring at the form in front of you, waiting for it to be filled.

“This is more intimidating than college application… guess here goes nothing.” You sighed before typing away your information and your preferences.

After filling out the form, you received an email from the place in the most eerily warming with an exciting letter that was graphically designed from them which says;

Hey there, (y/n)

We’re so excited for your first time at URMUSE, we welcome you full of joy and excitement. Based on your application and the preference you have given to us, we have booked you a session with our popular muse, Christopher, to help you fulfill your fantasy. If you’re interested in changing your muse or would like to make a change, just contact us at xx-xxx-xxxx.

You practically stopped reading as you were not interested in any change, you have paid your price and the date was given from when you go and have your time there. You have told the news to both of your best friends, only for you to get mixed reactions.

Minho was ecstatic, he was glad that you took his advice, and followed through with what he said, hoping you have the time of your life, “yay! I can’t wait for the stories, oh and make sure you tip them well if they did a good job, they’ll highly appreciate it!”

Hyunjin, on the other hand, was apprehensive. It wasn’t that he was against you doing this, he was just unsure if this is the right way to do it. He is no angel; he himself did go to brothels similar to URMUSE but he just thought you’d be overwhelmed by the environment and was worried you were going to regret it, “I’m not telling you to not go, especially since you’ve paid, but I’m telling you to watch yourself…”

While responses were different, still you sensed their caring nature, especially since both were adamant about calling them if someone tried to hurt you or something, but either way, you reassured them and you appreciated their thoughtfulness.

Fast forward to the date, it was finally that time to meet up with your muse and hopefully not be disappointed or judged by him. From the time you got the email, you wanted to research this Christopher guy, you knew he was popular but you didn’t want to see his face as you didn’t want it to tamper with your fantasy that you may embark in. You asked Minho if he can do it for you without showing you what he looks like, and he gladly accepted to help.

While in a facetime call, you see Minho creating a bunch of facial expressions, mainly an impressed expression based on his smirk, his raised eyebrows, and the way he pushed out his bottom lips.

“What?” You asked, brows knitted as Minho chuckles at the screen he was seeing and shakes his head, “oh boy, (y/n), you’re one lucky bitch.”

“What?!” you dragged out as you repeated

“Well, you said you don’t want details, but from what I can see, your boy Christopher? He’s—he’s a good one,” Minho said, trying to make it as vague as he can, which made you regret asking him to do the research in front of you as now your curiosity was practically pushing you further on going against your plans.

However, thankfully you eased yourself with it and didn’t let temptation win you over, especially since the date wasn’t far from the email you have gotten. Now you were on your way to the place for your session. Minho and his partner suggested that you should wear lingerie, be minimal with the make-up, and most importantly have fun. They also mentioned that the place also offers safe names so make sure you mention it at some point. You just had to keep a lot of mental notes before going in there.

Your taxi was driving you there, but not exactly at the place, but rather somewhere close. Once again, you let your insecurity eat you up when it comes to sex, shaming yourself for going to such a place, and being scared to be judged. It was too late to back down anyway, so you just accepted it, but you still hoped the ride would be done and over with, so you wouldn’t have to look at the poor taxi man in the face.

Once arriving, you paid your driver, and you were out of the car. Once you were sure the driver was gone, you walked in the direction of the place until you found the sign that made you eye up at it. The red cursive logo sign made it seem like it was a nightclub rather than what you thought would be a kin to a love hotel, however you didn’t let it drive you away and walked in there. You walked in and you saw a beautiful, blonde boy standing behind the counter, he maintained the prettiest smile as well as had the most radiant aura you have ever seen on a boy, you weren’t sure whether to feel small and intimidated or thirst over him just right where you stand.

“Hi, welcome to URMUSE, this is Felix, how am I help you?” The pretty boy behind the counter, Felix, spoke. You thought his cute presence was very contradicting to the vulgar environment he is in, but you can’t really judge him as you don’t know him well enough to confirm.

“Uh, hi, um,” you stammered nervously, “I have an appoint—I mean a reservation with my muse—I mean Christopher! Under the name (y/n).” you mentally face palmed yourself for what you thought was being an idiot, but Felix seems to think otherwise as he chuckles lightly.

“This is your first time right?” He asked, with a smile, however, the warmth in his smile contradicts the eyes he had as he examined your nervous being before going back to the computer to check for your name.

“Uh, yeah, y’know, just trying out new things and expanding my horizons and stuff,” you nervously rambled, once again mentally slapping yourself for making a fool of yourself, which amuses Felix rather than turns him off. “You’re so cute, you know that?” he comments. Which made you blush at the sudden comment, unsure whether he was being genuine or not, but either way, it was a confidence booster, and you took it anyway.

“Ugh, what a shame,” Felix pouted, making you frown, “you do have an appointment with Chris, ugh, he’s so lucky, can’t help but be jealous.”

To say Felix’s comment made your heart drop would be an understatement, but you weren’t sure if it was him leaving you off guard by pretending that the reservation was not there, or him telling you that he wanted to be in Christopher’s place, either way, so far, you were glad you’ve spent your money on this.

“Oh well, how about you follow me right this way, yeah?” Felix raised his hand in the direction of the hallway. You only smiled back at him politely as you two walked into the bright red hallway that had wooden maroon doors on each side with numbers written on the side with red or green lights radiating out of the panel, presumably to indicate the availability of the rooms.

“Are the walls soundproof?” You randomly asked as you two continued to walk down the quiet hallway. Felix smirked as he turned his head to you, “would you like the walls to be soundproof?” his deep voice was sultry when the question escaped his lips, you couldn’t help but feel weak at the response. Christopher has some serious competition, and Felix hasn’t even done anything remotely sexual.

“Umm…”

“Here we are,” Felix announced as he stops his footsteps and you bump into him, making you apologize profusely to him. “Don’t worry, this is probably the only time I’ll be this close to you,” he softly spoke, as he held your face and dragged his finger across your jaw, making you gulp at the physical and eye contact.

Felix turned as he opens the door by pressing the keypad on the handle and takes your hand inside the room. The door opened to a room with an interesting yet organized interior design. The room was big for what it seemed; silk black bedsheets in a queen-sized bed, a dark auburn wall-to-ceiling closet, a soothing yet arousing shade of red painted on the wall along with simple yet aesthetically appealing accessories and paintings on the wall.

Felix held your shoulders to help you take off your coat and hung it up for you before he sat you down in the bed. He held up your face as a farewell before speaking, “it has been nice chatting with you, I wish I could have you for myself but I guess we can’t have what we want,” he smirks as he looks up and your face, “hopefully you’ll love it here, so I could see you again, but for now, I have to go. Have fun…”

“Chris, she’s all yours!” Felix looked up as he announces and he walks out of the room. You were now sitting at the bed, unsure of what to do right now, and just awaiting Christopher to come in.

“Hello?”

You jumped up as you looked around to find the source but you cannot find who it is, so you assumed it was just your voice playing around with you until you hear the voice again.

“Are you (y/n)? Can you hear me?”

The voice had a similar accent to that of Felix, while his voice wasn’t deep as his, it was still a pleasant voice. it had this gentle yet masculine voice that was soothing to listen to and you were in for it. But still, you couldn’t see the source of the voice, and confusion increased by the second.

“Y-yes, this is me, is this Christopher?” you called out still looking around the room.

You hear his soft laughter emanating in the room, making you knit your brows, “oh gosh, (y/n), you’re so cute, are you sure you want me to call you mistress?”

As soon as he mentioned mistress, everything started to connect the dot. You remembered when you filled out the form, you stated that you enjoyed the whole anonymity that comes with it along with wanting to try out to dominate someone who may seem physically virile and muscular, so you’d hope to see what they can offer, and so far you’re intrigued seeing how he has yet to reveal himself and is speaking into a microphone that blares beautifully in the room you’re staying in.

Your demeanor seemed to change, especially since Christopher didn’t seem bothered by your request, as you place your arms behind you and smirked, “Christopher, are you about to act up on me already?” You responded, now leveling yourself on his.

He laughs, gosh his laugh was too attractive you thought to yourself, “just wanted to make sure if I’m talking to the same mistress, and also…”

He paused his words and then you hear the door open from your right side and you looked at whoever walked in, and your jaw dropped, “You can call me, Chris or Chan… or baby, or pup, or whatever you want to call me,” he proceeded, you can make out that he was smiling as he was speaking.

Your eyes panned at the robbed yet evidently well-built masked man. The lower half of his face was covered by a balaclava, showcasing only his onyx brown eyes and his chestnut curly hair. Even though he hasn’t shown his full face, you can still clearly tell he was attractive just based on his eyes and his facial structure, which was simultaneously concealing and accentuating his cheekbones and jaw.

You admired him, as he walked up to you and got down on his knees, and got his large and veiny hands on your exposed legs, lightly gripping and massaging your thighs underneath your skirt, his fingers barely touching your core. Your breath hitched at the sensation, while Chris just eyes you up with glimmering puppy eyes.

“I’m all yours, mistress… please take me.”

It felt like it was more than an hour since you and Chris had interacted when in actuality it had been less than twenty minutes. You two briefly talked about rules and precautions, deciding to follow the traffic light system if anything were to happen to either of you, mainly you. After that discussion has ended your insecure, overthinking self has been completely replaced with a self-righteous, domme who has already in just panties and tied up a naked Chris, who was whimpering at the lack of touch from you after you stopped stroking his cock after he told you that he was close.

“Aw, what a good boy, being vocal to mistress,” you praised as you pushed his hair back, his whines were loud but slightly muffled by the mask on his lips. He nodded as he croaks, “anything for you,” his high-pitched whines were brought back up as you started to fist his cock but this time you got closer to his cock, the smirk on your face painted with villainy, “hey.”

Chris let out a closed whimper as he looks down on you, despite his hand being tied. You made eye contact with his eyes as you continued to move your hand, “you better keep your eyes on me, got it, pup?”

He nods through his sobs, and one thing led to another, your mouth was wrapped around his precum-slicked cock, making him let out a broken moan as the feeling of your mouth around him was so warm and so pleasant. His stomach sinks at the sensation as he cries about how good you feel, all the while he tries his best to keep eye contact with you.

“Oh my fucking go—mistress, your mouth feels so—ah, fuck,” his words were broken by his moans, to the point he accidentally broke eye contact when he threw back his head to moan out loud. He suddenly lost the warm feeling of your mouth and instead, he felt a sharp slap to his sensitive organ, making him yelp and wince, his hand gripped the rope, that was tied to his wrist, tightened.

“I told you to not lose contact,” you sternly spoke as you began pinching his thighs, making him jump and arch his back while crying out strings of apologies.

“I’m sorry, mistress, I’m sorry,” he sobs out, “please, just please, pup needs your mouth, please.”

You wanted to punish him but you found his pleadings so adorable, the way his eyes were getting glossy by your edging and the way you were pinching and slapping him. While you enjoyed the masked face and wanted him to keep it on, seeing how cute he sounds and how his eyes were mesmerizing to you, you can’t help but wanna pull down the balaclava and see his face fully.

“pup, is it okay if I took your mask down and ride your face?”

His skin reddened, and you could tell he was nervous and apprehensive, so you thought he didn’t want to and wanted to carry on with the mask. “It’s okay if you don’t—”

“No! No! it’s not that, I’m just… shy,” he revealed, and you couldn’t help but find him even more adorable than before. You’re unsure if he was acting or being genuine, but either way, his sex appeal grew to the sky in your opinion. You grabbed the lower part of his balaclava, him lifting his head to help you remove it from his head, and when his face was fully revealed, you couldn’t be even more enamored by his face even more. His lips were red and plump, his cheeks were speckled with freckles and red flushness, and his nose protruded out attractively.

“Wow,” you breathed out as you threw his mask away, making him sink down into the mattress of the bed and look away shyly. You pulled his face by his chin to make him look at you, “if I knew you had this face, I definitely would never have made the masked request… You are so pretty, Chris.”

Your compliment made Chris smile shyly and giggle, “thank you, mistress…”

You chuckled through your breath as you got off, making Chris wander your eyes silently pleading to get back on him only to see you remove your panties. You crawled back into Chris and placed your thighs between his head and looked back down at him, “Want to taste, mistress?”

He didn’t say anything aside from excitedly nodding at your question and licking his lips. You smirked at his excitement before slowly sliding yourself down until Chris began devouring you from below making you gasp at how active his tongue was. You were taken aback by the pleasant feeling of his tongue and the way it touched all the spots you wanted to touch, especially when your grinding away at his face. His nose would make contact with your clit, especially when he moves his head along with your hips, trying to catch every flavor of you.

You gripped his hair as you were moaning at the good feeling Chris was giving you, so much so, that you felt your lower belly heating up. “God, pup, you love making mistress feel good, right?” you sighed out your words before moaning.

Chris just moaned as a response along with tasting the nectar you’re giving him like he was thirsty for it. You threw your head back as your hip movements were becoming more sloppy and messy as you felt the heat bubbling up, and as much as you wanna come all over the pretty boy’s face, you decide against it, so you pulled his hair as you got off his face, making him chase for your juices before gasping for air and looking at you.

“You did so well for mistress… I think pup’s ready for me, is that right?” you asked as you were creating anticipation and Chris did a good job at pretending to be desperate, especially with the way he excitedly nodded and just chanted “yes, yes,” with a bunch of whines. You were so deep in, that you completely forgot that you were dealing with a professional, but you didn’t care, you want to relish in the whole experience no matter what way.

You gasped at the feeling of his cock stretching you, bringing you to utmost bliss. He whined at the feeling of your velvet and warming walls being filled and your hips moving around it. The movement was intense when it comes to the pace and depth of this session was getting, with you two praising each other based on your respective roles.

While this wasn’t the first Chris has ever been in the submissive role in his taboo career, he wasn’t really into most of the roleplays and positions he was given, but he had to do it as this was his job either way, but either way, he doesn’t seek submissive roles often. However, when your application came in and was offered to him, he was at first against it as he doesn’t want to do another submissive role, but for some reason, he had a change of heart and decided to do it—especially since you had paid extra more than asked for the hour, who would say no to that? Chris thought to himself.

He was glad that you failed his expectation, as the way of delivery, albeit a rocky start, was phenomenal in his opinion. You absolutely were one of the few doms and dommes he seemed to enjoy being with thus far, he was highly impressed by you if anything.

He looked up at you, heavy breathing as her movements began speeding up, his knuckles turning white with the way he’s pulling on the ropes, and her fingernails scratches on his defined pectorals. Your combined moans were echoing loudly in the room, had it not for Felix telling you that the walls were not soundproof, you would have brought your insecure self back. But even so, you wouldn’t have cared at the moment as you and Chris felt good about being around each other.

“oh, fuck! Chris—pup, I’m so fucking close,” you shuddered your words as the heat in your lower belly was getting overwhelming. You assume Chris was not far behind either due to the whine he just slipped out, so you encouraged him to come with her.

“You can come with, pup, it’s okay, you ready?”

Chris nodded before he mewled as you moved faster so you could reach high. And long after, you came around him, cursing out at how good you felt, but you sensed that Chris hasn’t orgasmed yet so you slipped yourself out and began stroking him instead. While your hands were incomparable, Chris couldn’t deny how good he felt, and with the pace you were going and the pressure you exerted, you wounded out milking him as he came all over his stomach and chest while sobbing and shaking at his orgasm, especially when you overstimulated him.

“Mmm—mistress,” his whines were so high-pitched as he teared up and hiccuped at how overpowering the extra strokes you gave him. His silent pleads to stop were answered as you saw how much he covered himself with his white cum and you couldn’t help just licking some of it off, while Chris was trying to catch his breath. He tasted salty but not too overpowering where it was gross, you couldn’t help but wonder if he has drunk enough pineapple or something, but either way, you couldn’t get enough.

However, you got to your senses and stopped licking him, as you looked at him wide-eyed. You couldn’t believe you just tired the poor tied-up man, you thought.  

“Oh my god, are you okay?” you asked, concern laced as you tapped his shoulders, making him laugh as a response.

“I’m fine, don’t worry.” He responded back with a smile as he looked at the restraints, hoping you would untie him, which you instantly did. He groaned in glee once again as he freed his wrists out of the ropes, stretching them out.

You didn’t know why but you felt like apologizing only for him to shake his head, “there is nothing to be sorry for, after all my job was to help you fulfill your fantasy… which I hope I did.”

“Oh yeah you definitely did a good job, and I would definitely rate you a five star and tip you!”

Chris’s face lit up with a smile, “I’m so glad to hear that, I also had really fun, I don’t often do submissive roles, but I’m glad I got to do with it you.” His words seemed genuine and you didn’t know how to react so you ended up feeling flustered once again.

“Well, I tried…” You mumbled making both of you laugh.

After cleaning up and tipping, you two left outside the door, stating your farewells.

“Well, it’s been fun, I’m really glad you enjoyed your experience, you already know me, so don’t be shy to drop by to y’know… destress,” Chris cheerfully spoke with a smile. He was too charming and you couldn’t help but admire him once again, especially when he was back in his robe with his chest revealed. He extended his arms for an embrace, which took you by surprise, but you were far from uncomfortable. Despite the previous activities, he smelled oddly good, like musk for some reason, you couldn’t get away from it.

He pulled away from you, and he rubbed your arms with a smile before letting them go, “I’ll see you, yeah?”

You nodded back and there you two went your separate ways. You saw Felix still standing behind the counter, his eyes still on you, and he asked about your experience. You raved everything to him and told him that this won’t be the last time he’ll be seeing you for sure.

“Well, I’m glad you liked it here, and I wish to see you,” he says as he leans closer to your ears to whisper, “but ask for me next time, yeah?”

You couldn’t help but be stunned at his last phrase, while he leans back and smiles at you. “Hope we can see you again, (y/n).”

Yeah, definitely… You’ll see me here again… I have to call Minho and Hyunjin.

[spencerrxids]

Please Let Me Go

pairing : Peter Parker x Reader

genre : Angst

warning : Angst, Mention of death

summary : in which Peter has to go on a one way ticket mission

wordcount : 1.8k

A/N : honestly it doesn’t necessarily have to be Andrew Peter tho

masterlist

Loving Peter Parker is easy. That's a test that she could easily pass all the time. Everyone knows that. It's clear that she has always been in love with him since the moment he steps into her bio class. A skateboard in his hand, a boyish grin on his face as he apologizes for being late to the teacher.

It was a fate that there was an empty seat behind her at the moment. Various scenarios going inside her head—reading too many romance stories had that kind of effect on her—as he sat behind her.

She can't recall when exactly they become close. It happened just like that. What started as being study buddies ended up with them being in a relationship. How she could never understand that everyone rarely looks at his way. He's cute. He's smart. He knows exactly how to make women feel appreciated.

Nothing could change her feelings for him. Not even when he shows up in her room with his spiderman suit—startling the hell out of her—explaining about his secret hero persona as she stitched him up in the middle of her room. Foolishly that he really thought she was going to break up with him at that moment. But of course, she didn't. She simply can't do that.

Loving Spiderman has always been more complicated than loving Peter Parker. Now that she knows about this, she never seems to be fully relaxed when there's a police siren around her, knowing that her boyfriend is currently swinging around some buildings chasing some bad guys.

But even that didn't change her feelings at all. She grew to understand his purposes and that makes her fall for him even more. Time passed by, more enemies seems to come out of nowhere, much bigger enemies than before. At this point, she was really scared that there would be a day where Spiderman can't hold them anymore.

However, her worries are confirmed when Peter shows up in her bedroom, not even bothering to take off his mask, as she slowly stands in front of him. She already saw the news just minutes ago. And this is the situation that she really wished would never happen.

"What happened?" She reached for his hands, loosely intertwining their finger together. Her eyes are already full of tears as she keeps going on. "Peter, talk to me."

"Please." Her voice cracked as the boy in front of her hasn't uttered a word at all. She slowly reached up to take the mask off his head. Pursing her lip as she took in the look on his face as tears are threatening to spill out his eyes. She never saw him so broken, not since Uncle Ben's death.

"Oh, Peter." She feels his arms going around her waist, bringing her closer as he buried himself into her stomach. Her hands went to the back of his head, patting it softly trying to get him and herself to calm down.

"I'm sorry," Her name then got out of his mouth repeatedly as he keeps apologizing to her. She took a step back, allowing herself to get a good look at his face once more as he looks up to her. "I'm really sorry."

"Peter, you could never do anything wrong. Not to me." She brush his cheekbone softly as her hand went up to grasp his face. She can't handle the vulnerable look in Peter's eyes. However, the familiar sound of a police siren cut of her thoughts, both of them look out of her room's window.

Peter immediately went up again, his mask is already in his hand as he steps away from her and began to walk closer to the window. Is he really gonna leave her here without any explanation after saying sorry for whatever he's apologizing for a few moments ago?

"Peter," Her words make him stop in his tracks. "please tell me what's going on. Why are you being like this?" His shoulder grew tense for a moment or at least she thought so.

He titled his head to the side as if thinking about hi s decision again. "I can't." He said finally, turning back to look at her in the eyes. The same eyes he has been in love with for such a long time. The same eyes that are filled with the amount of love she has for him. The same eyes that he keeps seeing in his dreams and nightmares.

"Why?" None of them took a step towards each other, feet glued to the floor underneath them.

Peter shakes his head slowly, looking down. "I need to go." It's funny that he said that, but doesn't make any move to go away as if waiting for her to call out his name again, which she did.

"Please," Her name comes out of his mouth once more. "don't make this harder than it should be." His voice cracked at the of the sentence.

She let out a shaky breath as she tried to speak up once more. "What is it that you can't tell me, Peter?" She—now standing in front of him—grabs the side of his face, trying to get him to look at her again. "It's the usual, right? It's spidey's job. You go out there, knock down some bad guys, and then you come back," She paused for a second before continuing her words. "To me. To Aunt May. Home."

"That's the problem," His hand went to her hand that holds his face, leaning on it, trying to memorize the warmth she always gave him. "I don't know if I could make it back home this time."

How cruel he is to end that sentence with a smile on his face.

"No, Peter. You don't get to come here to my house saying sorry and then leave me here knowing exactly that you might not come back." It breaks him to see her saying no repeatedly, clutching to the front of his suit, tears staining her face.

"Let me help you." She looks up at him.

He shakes his head. "No. No. No. You can't, okay? You can't." Her hands were no longer on his face, but dangling on her side. Now it's his turn to hold her instead, a serious look on his face.

She keeps asking questions at him, more like yelling at him. "I can't let you do that," Once more, he spoke her name. "I can't risk losing you. I can't lose you."

"And what makes you think I can, Peter?! Tell me." She took a step back from him, tears uncontrollably going down her face. "I won't let you do this. This city needs you. I need you."

"Well, there won't be any city if you don't let me go right now!" He raised his voice. "You're being selfish right now. Just let me go."

"Selfish?" She looks at him with disbelief in her eyes. "You're telling me that if you go out there, you won't be coming back. The city will lose their spiderman."

"You really don't get it to do you, Peter? I won't be just losing spiderman. I will lose both of you." Her voice faded at the end of her sentence. "I will lose you."

"What would Aunt May say?"

"Stop it," He finally found his voice again. The tears in his eyes come back once more. "I know. Trust me, I know. That you're going lose me. That May is going to lose me."

"Then why won't you let me help you?" She croaked.

"I can't handle living in a world without you." His voice is so small that she's unsure if she heard him right.

"You're a cruel man, Peter."

"Come here." He opened his arms, letting her feel the warmth of his hold once more, her hands went around his neck, bringing him down, not wanting to let go. "I'm sorry. I really am. I love you. I really do."

"You love me but you're gonna leave me. What's the point in that, Peter?" He heard her ask. He closes his eyes, also tightening the hold he has on her, kissing the side of her head before burying himself onto her neck.

"I rather die knowing that you're gonna be safe."

"A lot of people will mourn over you if you're gone. Not much will do the same thing for me, Peter." He leans back as she said that—still trying to convince him to let her help him—brushing the hair away from her face, a sad smile on his face. "Don't say that. You're my world, what would I do without that, hmmm?"

He frowned as he looks at her face. "Don't make that face that reminds me of when Mr. Ferguson gives you a D for commenting on his hair."

"You don't get to make a joke right now, Peter."

The tension in the room comes back again, the realization of having to let go of each other hits them suddenly. "You're about to go to a place where I can't follow you."

"You really are making this hard, huh." The sad smile appears again on his face as he took in the look in her eyes. "I have to. You know I have to."

Deep inside, she understands. After all, there's nothing about him that she can't understand. She nodded sadly, trying so hard to put on a smile on her face. "I know. I know."

Her hand went up to his face once more to connect their lips for the last time. The last kiss that's full of despair and tragedy. What happened to the happy ending they have dreamt of all of this time?

"I love you."

"I love you too."

The sound of police siren blaring once more, reminding them of the situation out there. She looks down at her feet. "You need to go." She said.

"I need to go." He takes a step back from her, putting his mask on.

"I'll take care of her." She paused for a second. "Aunt May, I'll tell her. You don't need to worry."

He called out her name once more, but she didn't look at him. He knows why. She won't be able to let go if she looks at him, doesn't matter if his face is behind the mask.

She closes her eyes, looking in his direction with a smile on her face. "Go catch them, Spidey." She could hear a chuckle from him and then nothing else.

She opened her eyes and just like that she could no longer feel him in her arms. Ever.

After all, losing Peter Parker is never easy.

[under-sedationnn]

the arcana: main six reacting to injured! reader

anonymous: Could u do m6 reacting to mc coming home injured? I want some hurt/comfort >:))

Warnings: talk of being injured, blood. if that bothers you or tiggers you in anyway, please scroll away! i want this to be a safe place, only :)

thanks for the request anon!! i hope you enjoy!! <3 requests for the kissing prompts and physical affection prompts are STILL OPEN. please send them in with the character of your choice (which could be any character from any series i write for) and i will create an imagine!! thanks and happy reading!!

- tries his very very best to stay calm

- you can see panic bubbling under the surface

- faust is on high alert

- slithers around your shoulders and squeezes you for a hug

- "friend! hurt!"

- doesn't immediately ask what happened, just gets you to a comfortable place to be cleaned up

- then, and only then, will he brave to ask what happened to you

- or who did this to you

- wipes the blood from your skin with very gentle swipes

- winces when you wince, and apologizes profoundly

- "Y/n, how did this happen? i thought you were just taking a quick trip to the market."

- "i fell in the market, tripped over a stone"

- "and nobody helped you?"

- in this case he's disappointed with the bystanders, but does not become angry

- in a situation where someone hurt you?

- oh god

- "Y/n, how did this happen? i thought you were just taking a quick trip to the market."

- "yeah, well, somebody had their eye on the same apple i picked up. somehow, though, they managed to push me to the ground and steal it from my hands."

- i don't even think he would know what to say

- and asra is not really the type to march out into the streets of vesuvia and seek to challenge the one who hurt you

- but he would certainly hold a grudge against whoever it was if he did find out

- and would feel absolutely awful about letting you get hurt

- his mind would race about the possibility of losing you again

- because he simply can't handle it

- and what if that person had been particularly violent or malicious? what if you had been taken??

- you'd have to comfort the hell out of him to make sure he knows that you're okay

- "asra, hey, i'm fine! i can handle myself, you know that"

- "you're right, and i know you're right. it's just hard"

- "it's still hard for me, too. the market still makes me a little nervous and i got caught a little off guard, is all"

- that would make him feel better

- would finish patching up your wounds and would make sure to bring you to julian the next day if they were too bad for him to fix or needed stitches

- would also create a special brew to help with the pain and ease you to sleep

- "why don't i go down to the market tomorrow?"

- "why? so when you pick a fight over apples, i can pay you back for all of this high quality medical treatment?"

- "well of course, surely you didn't expect all this tender love and care to be free" *wink*

- panicked doctor mode enabled

- immediately begins checking you over, asking questions

- something tells me it would be a head injury of some sort

- "oh darling, what happe- you're bleeding!"

- "julian, i'm okay! it's just a little scratch"

- "no no no you might need stitches, come sit down. i'll go get my kit!"

- there's really no use in arguing

- he has cold ass hands, so he tries to warm them up before he begins suturing the wound

- tries to be gentle, and his expert hands move quickly without any snagging

- "so, how did this happen?"

- his voice is literally trembling

- "well, i was in the clinic grabbing the list of ingredients we need for our next grocery trip and there was a puddle of... something on the floor. i slipped and hit my head on the corner of your desk"

- immediately thinks it's his fault

- like "oh shit i should have cleaned better that could have killed y/n and then what would i have done-"

- doesn't necessarily voice this, but you can tell by the silence that follows that he's feeling really guilty

- would kneel for you, head on your knees

- "y/n, i am so sorry"

- "juli, it's really okay, i should have watched where i was going"

- "i'll make sure to clean better from now on, okay?"

- would guard you throughout the night in case of concussion

- nurse juli <3

- but let's say someone had put their hands on you

- would patch you up the same way, and apologize profusely for not being there with you

- tuck you into bed and fetch mazelinka to keep an eye on you throughout the night incase of a concussion

- would most definitely be self destructive and seek that mf out

- maybe not successfully, but would try his hardest

- "i'll be back in the morning, get some rest"

- "I can find them myself if I want to, you know"

- embarrassed blush

- because he KNOWS you can take care of yourself

- "of course, but right now you're hurt. as your partner, i will do what must be done on your behalf darling"

- probably shows up the following morning with battle scars of his own

- the guards found you in the garden, passed out in the maze

- blood trickled down your arm, a large gash marking your bicep

- ran you up to the palace and immediately to the medical wing

- them]n nadia gets word

- the calm, collected queen act disappears

- abandons anything she's doing, anybody she's talking to

- "we will finish this at a different time, i have more important matters to attend to"

- she is so worried and it's honestly adorable

- very much giving "where tf are they?" energy

- god i love her so much

- anyways um

- asks the nurses over and over what happened, if you're okay, etc.

- watches the physicians and nurses like a hawk as they clean the wound and suture the cut

- and they're so intimidated lmao they never come face to face with her literally ever

- brushes your hair back from your face as they do so

- holds your hands

- would demand that you be brought to her sleeping chamber

- so that's where you wake up! how cute

- she's laying beside you, her brows furrowed

- maybe even her eyes are a little hazy

- "y/n, sweetheart, do you remember what happened?"

- patiently waits for your answer, you're still a little groggy

- you were either attacked by an animal and passed out from the fright

- or you were attacked by an armed person and was knocked out

- either way, the guards are on it

- nadia isn't letting whoever or whatever did this get away without a fight

- the palace is meant to be a safe haven for you

- for the both of you

- "well, don't you worry, we'll take care of that"

- you try to sit up but she won't let you

- "oh no, you must stay down, y/n. you are possibly concussed from the fall"

- "oh okay, sorry"

- "is there anything i can get you?"

- the countess of vesuvia, serving you in your time of need

- "just some water would be nice"

- "of course, i'll have some brought up right away"

- i literally feel like he would just start crying straight up

- cause like he has some problems anyway

- he big sad boi

- and you coming home to the hut bleeding from a gash in the arch of your foot is not helping

- picks you and carries you to the bed without a word

- just starts examining the cut

- inanna is also very concerned

- she licks the blood from the cut, she's trying to be helpful

- meanwhile muriel is stumbling around the hut looking for anything to stop the bleeding, disinfect it, bandage it, anything

- but he's not the best about keeping that stuff in stock

- keeps looking back at you with worry in his eyes

- he doesn't know what to do

- "muriel, let me see if i can contact asra. maybe he or julian can bring me a salve. i'm pretty sure i'm gonna need stitches"

- low-key makes him feel worse

- cause he feels like he's unable to care for you and keep your safe

- even tho this was just an accident

- he's breathing really fast, his anxiety creeping

- agrees anyway, but goes to get them himself

- "i'll be back soon, just keep this piece of cloth pressed against it"

- cause you're bleeding like a lot

- inanna stays behind

- he returns very quickly with julian in tow, though he doesn't look happy about it

- leaves the hut without another word

- julian gets to work immediately

- "so, you cut your foot i see"

- smartass.

- "yeah, muriel always tells me to put on shoes when i walk in the woods but i love to feel the grass beneath my feet"

- julian chuckled at this

- "and i'm assuming you, what, stepped on a rock?"

- "...yeah, sliced it right open"

- after julian is done cleaning up the cut, he tells you to just stay off of it for a while and make sure it doesn't get infected

- once he's gone, muriel trudges back into the hut

- "muriel, baby, it was just a cut it's not a big deal"

- but his eyes look hurt, and you beckon him toward the bed

- "hey," your hands on his cheeks, "i'm okay, really"

- "sorry, i just got scared. blood is still a trigger for me and since you got hurt in my woods, i felt like it was my fault"

- "muriel, of course it wasn't your fault"

- he really needed a hug

- after this instance, he made sure to keep medical supplies in the hut and you promised to try and wear shoes in the woods more often than not

- "i'll try my best to be more careful. deal?"

- sweet lil smile

- "deal."

- "oh my god, y/n, what the hell happened??"

- you were tending the garden

- without her supervision

- and the garden sheers might have sliced into the palm of your hand

- deep

- brings you over to the sink and runs water over the cut, covering it with a towel when the dripping blood had been washed away

- girl is on the move

- cause she knows what to do! love that

- low-key a main reason why julian managed to live as long as he has

- pepi is curiously perched atop one of the counters, peering down

- finds her personal first aid kit she had stashed in the bathroom

- guides you over to sit on the counter while she tries to figure out what to do

- "damn, you really cut yourself, y/n"

- "sorry! i think i just got a little carried away"

- she giggles at that, though she is still worried about the fact that it won't stop bleeding

- gently wraps the cut in gauze and adheres it together

- places a kiss to your fingertips

- "all done! no more gardening for you!"

- "hey, why not?"

- "well you don't want that cut to open back up again and again, do you?"

- "no"

- "alright then," she smiled, moving to put away the first aid kit again, "and we're going up to the palace medical wing first thing tomorrow morning to make sure it's not infected"

- eye roll

- "yes ma'am" you mocked

- even though you know it's just because she loves you

- "but since you got hurt, you want me to bake you some cookies?"

- "only if you let me eat the dough!"

- good god do i love this man

- but he is so self-absorbed it's actually insane

- and I feel like he wouldn't even notice at first

- cause he's too focused on himself

- gazing into the mirror without a care in the world when you walked in

- "y/n, thank goodness you're home, how do you feel about these pants?"

- you just hobbled to the nearest seat, hand resting over the gash on your knee

- mercedes and melchior were lazing across a rug at the base of his mirror, their attention set on you

- "u-um, yeah, they look good"

- literally just trying not to bleed out, over here

- "good? oh really, now, y/n don't they look amazing?"

- "yes, they look ama- ow, damnit"

- then he turned around

- immediate shock and worry! oh no oh no y/n is hurt!

- mercedes and melchior walked over first, whining as they took in the cut, brushing around the edges

- lucio raced over, squatting down in front of you, and began examining the cut

- "hey, hey, what happened?"

- "i accidentally tripped on my walk in the garden and scraped my knee on the cobblestone"

- he was lightly touching around the cut, gauging how sensitive it was

- when you flinched he stopped, looking into your eyes with a soft "sorry"

- "i think i need to go to the palace infirmary"

- "oh there's no need, i can take care of you!"

- you were not convinced he could take care of you, at least not well

- "uh, lucio, are you sure?"

- he looked slightly offended, at that

- "you know, y/n, i did fight in battles at one point. i have not only tended to my own wounds, but the wounds of others, as well"

- you giggled at the thought

- "much to your protest, though, i'm sure"

- he moved to the small cabinet of medical supplies in the ensuite to your bedroom, returning to your side with it in hand

- "at points, but i don't mind helping you in the slightest"

- for all of his antics, his soft side was enough to make you fall in love all over again

- and although i know he would take care of you in literally any situation, i can't say for certainty that he would stick around and place nurse lucio for long if a person had hurt you

- attacked you

- much like nadia, the guards would be sent out without a second thought, lucio leading the pack in the search for you aggressor

[twjournals]

The Right Place

This is the third and final part of the trilogy. I can not thank you enough for the endless support. I did not expect to even turn this into a three-parter, but you asked and you shall receive. You guys are amazing!

So Wrong It's Right

What's Wrong is Right

Warning: dark!Peter Parker x reader, dub-con, all characters are of age, pregnancy, abuse, mild non-con touching, violence

Word Count: 5.4k

Summary: You're an old troubled friend of May's. Your life consists of being a workaholic, a party animal, and bringing home the shittest of guys for a one-hit-wonder. Just when you get your life in order, you're knocked right back into your old habits. Peter has watched you suffer long enough. He can make it all better.

Taglist: @discoverwhattheworldhastooffer

Your world was in shambles and any move you made to try and fix it only seemed to make what was left crumble. You did not speak with anyone since you had found out you were pregnant, not even May. You did not know what you could even say to her or how you could explain what was going on. You knew she would find out sooner or later, but you had planned on later. You could not even stomach the thought of telling her. It would not be easy and you knew you would probably lose her friendship in the process.

You avoided Peter as much as you could. He always messaged to check up on you, but you would never reply. You were disappointed in yourself. If you had just been the biggest person and moved on, if you had not have gotten drunk, you would not be in this situation right now.

Peter never gave up on you. He had hoped you would come around. That you would understand why your life was going in the direction it was. You needed to get away from the toxicity you surrounded with, especially Chris. You were meant for bigger and better things. You were meant to be more than a housewife. You were to be a mother, a lover, a soulmate. You deserved the world and he wanted so bad to give you it plus more.

You continued to shut him out though. You did not answer his phone calls or his text messages no matter how many times he tried. He sat outside on your fire escape many nights, listening to you crying yourself to sleep. It broke his heart to see you in this situation, but he wishes you would look on the bright side of things. Maybe it was not the greatest timing to have a baby, but it didn't mean your lives were ruined. Sometimes what we want is not always what we need. Sometimes change is required for what we need in our life and you weren't necessarily open to it.

He honestly had tried to give you your space. He stuck to the rooftop above you where you could not see him when you would finally leave the house for work. You always looked so beautiful to him, even if he knew you had been crying all night. If you would just answer his messages, he would not have to go this far.

Peter watched you many mornings on your way to work. He followed your bus all the way to the place he prayed you would never go. He kneeled on top of the building, watching as you stared sadly at the front doors of the clinic. He wished you would turn around. To save him from having to web you down before you got in the building. You were picking at your sweater. No matter the number of times you found yourself standing outside the clinic, you never could bring yourself to even reach for the door.

You were at war with yourself. Peter could tell you fought against the changes, but your heart could not bring you to stop them from happening despite how unhappy you were. It always ended with a sigh and with you proceeding to walk the rest of the way to work. Peter seemed to hold his breath until you walked away.

Work was always a drag now. You had nothing to look forward to anymore but everything in the world to worry about. You stared at your phone as it lay against the computer screen. You rubbed your face tiredly.

You knew it was time to let go of your past. You sighed deeply, taking your phone in your hands and clicking on Chris's old messages. You began typing.

Are you able to come by later?

You noticed he read your message right away. You sat your phone down, still staring at the screen when he responded back.

Of course. Just tell me when, and I’ll be there.

You told him you would message him once you got home. You were sure what time you would get off when it came to your job. You wrote a company and spent the hours necessary to do what you needed to do.

By the time your workday had finally ended, you were having mixed feelings about inviting him over. Being pregnant did not help your feelings from being all over the place. Your thumbs hovered over the keypad on your screen. You were hesitant. Even if he had said he respected whatever you decided, you knew he could not entirely mean that. You quickly typed out that you were home and hit send before you could give yourself time to think almost about it. Maybe you should have thought about it a little longer.

Peter was stuck at school for one of his night classes. He dreaded his night classes now more than ever considering your condition. He had already skipping enough classes due to worrying so much about you. He could not afford to flunk out of school now after all the time and effort he had dedicated already. As much as he wanted to keep an eye on you, he tried to give you room to breathe, to think, and process.

You pushed his bags in the living room by the door, straightening your sweater to keep it off of your stomach. You were not big to others, but to you, you worried if people can tell. You did not want to chance it and certainly not with Chris. You wanted this to go as smoothly as possible.

Your heart almost leaped from your chest at the knock on your door. You slid the chain from the lock and pulled the door open to see his face light up as soon as he saw you.

"Hey there, beautiful."

"Hi." You leaned against the door slightly as you moved out of the way for him to enter.

"I'm so glad you're giving this a second-" He stepped into the apartment, noticing bags of his belongings to the side of him and he grew quiet. "You're not giving me a second chance." He pointed out and you frowned slightly, still standing by the door.

"I think it is what's best for the both of us." Your voice was quiet and calm, but in your mind, it was the hardest thing possible for you to say.

"Is it?" His voice seemed bitter and you looked down at your feet, nodding slowly. Even without looking at him, you could still feel his eyes on you. He turned to face you fully and you hesitated to make eye contact with him.

"It is. I still want the best for you."

"Do you not believe I can change? I don't understand. What can I do to change your mind?" He pressed.

"Please don't think I haven't given this a lot of thought. It consumes my mind to no end. I just need to focus on myself right now."

"Imagine that." It was silent in the room and you glanced at him, only to find him shaking his head with a snicker. "It's not what's best for the both of us. Not for me. This is what's best for you. Can't imagine how I even thought you could be anything but selfish."

"Chris, I just want to keep this civil."

"Good for you." He pulls the door from your grasp and slamming it shut, startling you. "That's all you've ever been, hm? You're gonna have to lose that mindset if you plan on marrying me."

"I don't-"

"You will." He corrected, moving so close you could feel his breath across your face. "I put too much time into this for you to walk away from me."

You swallowed hard. The man who stared back at you was far from familiar. You tried to step around him but he only pushed you back into your place between him and the wall.

"Goddamn it, just get your stuff and go!" You raised your voice and he slapped his hand hard across your cheek. It was strong enough to make you see stars in your eyes. You yelped at the impact and held your cheek as it stung in pain.

"You watch your fucking tone." He stared down at you. He had never hit you before in the years you had been together. He never raised a hand to you, but then again, he never raised one for you either.

You could not imagine how much worse this would get. You left sick to your stomach when he grabbed your chin, tilting your head upright to look at him, stroking his fingers across your stinging cheek as his eyes flickered over your face in thought.

"Truth to be told, I think it's you who needs to change. I put up with so much from you. You had me in the beginning. Thought I was getting this wild, sex-crazed wife, oh, the fun we use to have. The drunken nights." He stiffed a laugh as he let his free hand grab the end of your sweater. "You really had me fooled, didn't you sweetheart?"

You were scared to move. Scared that one wrong move and he would hit you again, maybe worse. You closed your eyes, hoping Peter would answer your prayers. You regretted how much you ever took advantage of his kindness. How long you acted like you never noticed. You had always noticed. You felt his hand push underneath your shirt, and his gaze grazed over your stomach.

You noticed the way his hand froze against the small curve of your rounded stomach and he instantly lifted your shirt to see the problem. Your vision was blurred from your tears as he stared at your stomach with wide eyes. You could tell he was getting pissed.

"Really looks like you've been focusing on yourself." He lets your sweater fall back down over your stomach. His grip was still firm on your jaw, giving you no choice but to look at him. "You have some nerve to leave me. I could bet money it's Parker's. It is, isn't it?"

You could not bring yourself to admit it, but you did not have to.

He shoved your face from his hand, causing you to hit your head hard against the wall as he let you go. "You fucking make me sick."

You tried to keep your sobs quiet, listening to his footsteps moving away from you, listening to him jerking his bags up. "Better it's his problem and not mine." He muttered before slamming the door shut behind him.

You pulled your knees to your chest as you sat up against the wall with a sob. You didn't realize how much you needed Peter until now. You were sure he would have been successful if Peter had not have stopped. You hugged your knees as you tried to catch your breath in an attempt to calm yourself down.

After a moment, you took a deep breath as you pushed yourself to your feet. You let out a whimper quiet, feeling mild cramps in your lower stomach. You frowned as you turned the lock to the door, pressing your forehead against it as you held your stomach from the pain. It only seemed to worsen the longer you stood there. You weren't sure what was going on, but you had a feeling whatever it was, it was not good. You stood like that hoping the cramps would ease, but they never did.

It was close to the end of class when Peter's phone vibrated in his pocket. He pulled it out of his phone slightly to see who it was. He glanced up at the professor who had still proceeded with his lecture and Peter lowered his head to answer. He knew something had to be wrong if you were calling him after all this time of avoiding him.

"Y/n? Is everything okay?"

"I think something is wrong." You whimpered quietly and he raises an eyebrow slightly.

"What do you mean "wrong"? Is the baby okay?" He looked up at the teacher who was making eye contact with him now as he talked.

"I don't know." You answered honestly.

That was all it took to get Peter moving. He grabbed his books off of his desk and tossed them in his bag while he scrambled from the classroom.

"It hurts." You rubbed your lower stomach like you always did when you had cramps before. Cramps were normal, but with being pregnant, you could never be too sure what they really meant.

"I know, love. I'm so sorry. Hang tight. I'm on my way." He reassured you as he sprinted out of the building.

---

You lay back on the hospital bed, sighing as Peter ran his hand over your bump in gentle circles. For once, you let him. Your cramps had surprisingly lessened since Peter had shown up, but he did not want to take any chances. It was better to be safe than sorry. He was so worried about you and the baby.

Nurses had been in and out of the room, doing blood work, swabbing, anything necessary to get to the bottom of this. Peter was quiet as he sat on the side of the hospital bed, focused on the massage he was giving your stomach. This was the first time he had touched you since the night you found out you were pregnant.

You could not help back to smile slightly to yourself as his long gentle fingers worked over your skin. He must have sensed your stare because it was not long before his eyes glancing up to meet your stare.

He raised an eyebrow curiously. "Is this okay? I'm not making it worse, am I?"

You shook your head. "It's fine. I'm just watching."

He smiled at you while he continued his massage to your tummy. His eyes looked toward the door when a nurse came in, rolling some equipment over to the bedside.

"Miss. Y/l/n, your lab work should not be much longer. If you do not mind, I would like to do an ultrasound to check on the baby. Is that okay with you?"

You nodded and Peter took his hands back to let her work. She rolled over a chair, taking some gel and squirting some across your lower stomach. The nurse rolled the transducer over the gel and smearing it in as she applied some pleasure in search of a heartbeat. You watched her roam your stomach, biting your bottom lip. Your eyes widened slightly when the sound of the baby's beating heart filled the room. Once the nurse got a clear view, she turned the screen to show you and Peter what she was seeing.

You looked over at the monitor, your heart fluttered slightly at the first sight of your baby. That was your baby, even if it was only a little bean now. You could not stop the smile from forming on your lips. This little bean was life was growing inside of you. This brought a whole new light to your pregnancy. It was like a light had switched on. You did not know how to explain the overwhelming feeling. It felt more real after seeing him or her.

Peter was just as taken back as you. His grin never faded at the sight of your baby. It only made him 10x more eager to be a dad.

"Look at that. Already looks like me." Peter teased and you giggled, considering he or she was not much more than a heartbeat at the moment.

"I can definitely see it." You grinned as Peter rest his hand over yours, sliding his fingers between yours. He brought your hand to his lips before pressing a kiss to the back of it. You watched him kiss your hand and shivered slightly. You did not know what to think of everything at this point.

The nurse checked the baby's heartbeat before turning to the computer behind her and check your lab results with a quiet hum as she scrolled through your charts.

"Well, it seems like everything is just fine. Your baby is certainly healthy and has one of the strongest heartbeats I have ever heard." You looked over at Peter and he only grinned. You could thank Peter for that and all of his spidey senses.

"Your blood pressure was pretty high though and considering your history, your blood pressure has always been perfect. Have you been stressed out lately?" She looked back at you and you nodded slightly.

You were ashamed at how stressed you had let yourself get. "Well, I won't ask for details but if it is anything I can help you with, I would be happy to help. If not, I would stay to keep the stress to a minimum. Your baby does feel anything you feel, so some things can be too much and really take a toll on them." She explained. "Think of this as your baby reminding you to breathe."

You smiled, feeling Peter giving your hand a warm squeeze.

"If your blood pressure does continue to be high, we will see if we can do something to help." You nodded again as she made out some prints of your ultrasound and handing them to you. "If you don't have any questions, I'll let one of the other nurses know and they can keep your paperwork ready for you to go home." She took a paper towel and wiped your stomach clean before tossing it.

With that, she gathered up her equipment before rolling it out of the room with her. You pulled your sweater back down over your stomach.

"Hear that. Now do me a favor and leave all of the worrying up to me." He looked up at you as your eyes stayed glued to your ultrasound prints. His eyes flickered over your face, landing on the bruising mark on your cheek. He reached up, moving a piece of hair back of your face to get a better look. You flinched at the contact. Peter seemed taken back by your flinch.

"What happened? How'd you get that?" You kept your head down with a small frown.

"I invited Chris over to get his stuff. He thought I was taking him back. He didn't take it well." You explained and his eyes widened.

"He hit you?!" You reached Peter's hand as he started to jump up from the bed. "I'll kill him. I swear to you-"

"Peter, please. It's over with now." You assured him, tugging his hand to pull him back to the bed to sit down again. "He's not worth it."

Peter frowned, letting out a deep sigh before leaning in and pressing a gentle kiss to your cheek. He did not want to stress you any more than you had already been. "I'm sorry he did that to you. I wish I could have been there."

"Honestly, I needed this. It made letting go of him a lot easier."

"Was that all he did?"

You grew quiet.

"Did he..."

"No, he didn't." You shook your head after he could finish his sentence. "He saw that I was pregnant and left."

Peter tried to keep his composure as his fist clenches out of your sight. He could not imagine how someone could lay a single finger on you with intentions to hurt you. He was quiet. He was trying to hold it together for your sake.

"He didn't say anything?"

You stayed quiet for a moment, rubbing your thumb across the print. "Just that he was glad it was your problem and not his." You shrugged your shoulders slightly. "Even though it's not a problem, I am glad it's you and not him. I can't imagine what it would be like to have a baby with someone that selfish."

His clenched fist loosened at your words and his eyes softened. He could not believe his ears. Were you really saying this?

His cheeks blushed a deep shade of red. "You mean that?"

You smiled at him with a nod. "I do. You're so selfless and care so much about what you can do for others. Even though I've been selfish, you still stuck by my side. I honestly couldn't ask for a better father for my baby."

His smile widened as he looked at you, resting his hand on your small bump. "Our baby."

You rested your hand on top of his with a smile, nodding your head. "Our baby." You agreed.

---

It was not long after that the nurse gave you the okay to leave. Peter had stopped to get you something to eat before he took you home. He wanted to make sure you had been fed. All of the little things like this had slowly pulled you closer Peter. You were not used to how observant and patient he was. As much as you knew how wrong your whole situation was, you could not help but to give in to it. Despite your age, Peter had treated you better than any other guy you had been with. Even better than the one you had been with for years. Peter was the blessing you never knew you needed. He was the blessing in disguise.

He held onto your hand, walking up the steps to your apartment and using the keys to unlock the door for you. He didn't expect you to let him stay. All he wanted was to make sure you were okay before he left you alone.

"Thank you for everything." You looked up at him as you both stood in front of your door.

He smiled down at you. "You don't have to thank me."

"You know I owe you."

He rolled his eyes playfully. "You don't owe me anything. You're having our baby. I consider that payment enough." He teases, his hands resting on your waist. He could not help but touch you. In every possible, he would if he could. Your cheeks blushed at his response, looking down but Peter let his finger hook underneath your chin to tilt your head back up. Your lips were barely an inch apart when the moment was quickly ruined.

"What the fuck is going on here?!" A familiar voice pulled you from your moment, making your heart sink to the pit of your stomach when the realization hit. You did not even have to look over to know it was May. Her face was red in anger when your eyes met hers. "You ignore me for weeks and when I come to check on you, you're smacking lips with my nephew?! What the fuck is wrong with you?"

Your lips parted to say something, but no words came out. You did not where to begin with explaining yourself to her. You knew this was all wrong, but it was all too late.

"I thought you were hurt, but obviously, you're perfectly fine." She was fuming.

You never wanted her to find out this way. You wished you had more time to think about it and figure out a better way, but this was it. This was the moment of truth and you were terrified to lose your best friend. You felt tears forming in your eyes and Peter frowned.

"Aunt May, stop."

"Stop?! I'm not going to stop! You're not going to use my nephew so you can get over your worthless ex-boyfriend."

"Aunt May!"

You fought to hold back your tears until you could not anymore. You felt the tears running down your face. As much of a low blow that was, you felt you deserved to hear it. "Peter, i-it's okay." You struggled to form your words. You were hurt, embarrassed, ashamed.

"No, it's not." He shook his head, pointing a finger at May as she stood only a few feet distance from the two of you by her car. "You've gone too far."

"I don't understand how you think this is okay, Y/n." She shook her head, ashamed at you.

"I didn't expect for it to be like this. I didn't mean for any of this to happen." You confessed.

"Just like you never meant for all those one-night stands to happen huh? I trusted you!" She yelled, making you flinch. You hung your head in defeat, glancing at Peter with sad eyes before going inside. You could not stomach the rest of the conversation without sobbing. You tried to calm yourself once you were inside.

"That's enough!" Peter yelled suddenly. "I am capable of making my own decisions. I don't need you to decide what is best for me, Aunt May. I'm not here against my will and neither is she."

"She's supposed to be my friend." She didn't know what to make of this.

"You're supposed to be my Aunt! You knew how hard I crushed over her. For years you knew."

"I thought it was just a crush."

He moved closer to her in the parking lot. It was never just a crush. He was head over heels for you. "I love her. I've always loved her. You're can either respect it or accept it, because it's either way, she's pregnant and nothing is going to change that." He stood by her car.

Her mouth fell open in shock. She did not know what to think. Never in a million years would have thought this would happen, but then again never would have you.

"Pregnant?" Her voice was quiet.

He nodded. "I'm gonna be a dad, Aunt May." He pulled his copy of the prints out of his wallet and showing them to her.

She was at a loss for words. He was right. There was nothing she could do about that. May stared at the prints for a moment, trying to process everything in the short time it had all happened.

"Peter... I don't understand..."

"She almost had a miscarriage today because she's been stressing herself out over Chris. You're not going to take this away from me." He looks down at her, taking the prints back from her." He looked down at her as she stared back with a small frown. "Go home, Aunt May before we both do something we'll regret. You can come back when you're ready to apologize for this." He held the car door open for her and she hesitated before slowly getting in the car.

She knew she was in the wrong for how she had handled things, but Peter did not give her the chance to even risk making things worse. Peter felt deep in his heart despite everything she would come around. She would realize how happy you made him and she would accept it, but for now, she needed to leave.

Peter walked back to your front door, knocking on the door with a sigh. After a few moments, you moved from your spot on the couch to answer the door. You opened it slightly to see Peter and you glanced behind him at May's car pulling out of the parking lot.

"How are you?" He frowned when he saw your red watery eyes.

"I feel awful."

He sighed when you finally let go of the door and he stepped inside of the apartment. He let the door close behind him. His arms wrapped around your body instantly, pulling you against mine as he hugged you, resting his head against yours and kissing the top of it. "I'm so sorry. I know it's hard to believe now, but she'll come around. Just give her some time."

"She was going to find out sooner or later. I expected that reaction. I just wasn't prepared for it right now." You pointed out as your head rested against his chest, letting him hold onto you.

You closed your eyes, listening to his heartbeat. You relaxed in his arms. Your eyes were burning from all the tears shed. Peter scooped your body up in his arms bridal style, carrying you down the hall to the bedroom. He laid you down on the bed, sliding into the bed with you as his arms naturally found their way around your waist. Your head fell to his chest as you got lost in your thoughts for a moment.

"I'm starting to think I can never make the right choices." You admitted, laughing slightly to yourself and Peter tilted your head up to look at him.

His lips pressed a kiss to your nose. "Sometimes, the wrong choices bring us to the right places." He assured you before leaning in to close the space between your lips and kissing your lips.

He was true to word. No matter how much you held yourself back, every wrong choice you had ever made in your life brought you to this moment with Peter. This opportunity with Peter to finally get your life right. It was your chance to allow yourself the happiness you knew you both deserved.

End Credits Scene

He was not sure how long he had been sitting with his wrists and ankles restrained to a chair in the middle of a dark room. Maybe hours. It even could have been days. He was not sure. His eyes blinked rapidly to adjust to the light that poured into the room when he finally heard a heavy door open.

"Oh good, you're awake." He was covered in sweat from fear and the heat of the closed-off room. He could make out bits of a red and blue suit. His eyes must have been playing tricks on him. When his eyes finally adjusted to the light, his eyes widened at the sight of Spiderman in front of him. He did not understand what was going on. Spiderman is supposed to save people.

His mouth was covered with solid webbing so he could not speak.

"I'm sure you're wondering why you're here." Peter moved closer to him as he spoke. He leaned down, ripping the webbing from Chris' mouth and making him cry out in pain from the grip it had on his skin. "You see Chris if there's one thing I hate, it's people who hurt the people I care about."

"W-What are you talking about? I haven't done anything."

"Don't play dumb." Peter gritted his teeth underneath his mask, backhanding Chris across the face before gripping his jaw. "You know exactly what you did, but that's okay because it won't happen again. You'll never touch Y/n again. I'll make sure of that."

Blood dripped from Chris's mouth from how hard Peter hit him. "I should fucking kill you for putting your hands on her." He smirked to himself when Chris starts squirming under his grip. "But I won't."

"I won't. I won't touch her again. I swear-"

"Oh, I know you won't." Peter let go of his jaw before backing up towards the door again.

"W-Where are you going? Aren't you going to let me go?" Chris started to panic as Peter pulled his mask off for Chris to see his face. He wanted this to be the last thing he saw if he died and the thing he would definitely remember if he lived.

"I didn't say I was going to let you go. I said I wasn't going to kill you." He smiled and Chris's mouth fell open slightly at the sight of Peter Parker standing before him. "I was thinking we could make a game out of this. I hear you like games. Let's see just how important you really are. I'm gonna leave you here and we're gonna see if your friends succeed with their search party if they even send one out. I can't imagine what they would care about scum like you for, but I guess we'll see. I give you about 48 hours before your body finishes you off itself. That should give you more than enough time to think about what I've said. That's if you do make it and I don't really have faith that's gonna happen, but I'll give you the benefit of the doubt. I expect you to get the hell out of New York. I promise to you if ever see you again, I'll kill you."

Chris swallowed hard as Peter stood in the doorway once more, the sun outlining his figure at the door. He was scared of the possibility of not being found. He was furious that a guy like Peter was capable of putting him in a situation like this.

"They'll find me and when they do, you're a dead man, Peter Parker." He pulled at the restraints on his arms with all of his might but he did not stand a chance against the webbing. Peter made it look so easy.

Peter grinned at Chris's promise. He loved the challenge. The possibility that even if someone did find him, he would have the pleasure of killing him himself. It amused Peter that Chris could even have the nerve to threaten him in the position he was in.

"Well, let the game begin." He gave a wave as he started to pull the door closed. Chris yelled to the top of his lungs until the heavy metal door ceased his screams.

[spideyspeaches]

Heart made of glass ↬ t.h

A/N: Beta read by the lovely @hollandcrush​ !! <3<3

Request (Summary): can you please write one about Tom, who is on the filming process of cherry and has some emotional problems because he feels that his character is already part of his life, so he comes home very angry and in a bad mood, so he just snaps and creates a big fight with the reader and just says things that he obviously didn't meant, you know very angst, and at the end just very fluff.

Hope you like this anon! Lemme know your thoughts heh <3<3

Warnings: breakdowns, slight vomiting but it’s not graphic. I’m not in any way romanticizing or sexualising breakdowns. 

WC: 2k+ 

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Masterlist || Taglist

Tom was an ambitious guy. He took his roles seriously, no matter what his character was and who he played. It was an admirable trait, the way he both enjoyed his work and worked hard to earn a high place in such a place as Hollywood. 

You always took pride in how amazing and accomplished your boyfriend was, your heart swelling whenever you heard his name being mentioned in events and interviews. You enjoyed how he tried to diversify the movies he worked in. 

("I've been playing the friendly neighbourhood Spider-Man for so long, it's about time I play someone different now." He once said in a Jimmy Kimmel interview. You were watching from the audience, smiling as the audience roared in affirmation. 

"Well looks like you took quite a big leap from playing a superhero." Jimmy said, smiling at the audience with his paparazzi smile. 

You knew the question was scripted, quite harmless, but you still noticed how his shoulder stiffened, his smile not wavering once. 

"Well yeah, I used to be a superhero and now I'm a heroin addict." He joked, winking at the audience as he ran a hand through his nearly hairless head.

He cried himself to sleep that night, burying his face in your chest as you shushed him. )

It always worked in his favour, with the incredible support his family and fan base provided. And he was always so humble about it. 

Filming Cherry, however, was way different than he thought it would. With filming Cherry came consequences that he didn't necessarily like. He knew what he was bringing on himself and his family when he was first introduced with the script.

(Contrary to popular belief, he didn't actually give out spoilers, it was just small promotional stunts that kind of took over as his reputation to spoil minor details.)  

The process was intense, getting into the mindset of "Cherry" was taxing, and people were beginning to notice it in him. He was more restless, tugging at his non existent curls when he thought no one would notice. 

He was more clingy, more appreciative of your body and you, letting you know that there was no sexual intent behind his acts of caressing your waist at random times. You didn't notice the change in his behaviour. 

He had always been like this, watching you with the most gratifying gaze a man could muster, his pretty brown eyes like globes of whiskey, staring at you with a muffled expression. You didn't notice. 

There had always been a cutting edge to his voice, you knew and adored it. Behind the British actor who played Spider-Man, he was your Tom. Your Tom who gave you forehead kisses and baked cakes with you and made silly playlists that reminded him of you and you of him, your Tom who worshiped the ground you walked on, your Tom, your Tom and your Tom.

(Sometimes you envied that he was an actor, so good at hiding any emotions he felt, it came easy to him, just another fake emotion like he was a face behind the camera.)

He was never aggressive towards you. Never. Even on tough days, he was soft, caring and understanding to the point where it made you mad, immediately making you feel guilty. He worked so hard and yet here you were, blaming him for being nice, never standing up for himself.

"Uh, Tom, Tom stop, wait." You grunted, pushing his shoulders as he scrambled away from you at your discontent. 

You held his face, his breath hitching, hyperventilating as he tried to get himself together. 

Ever since he had started filming Cherry, he had been away from you. And now that you were finally here, he had been all over you, making love to every inch of your skin, like it was a holy grail he had to find, caressing your warm skin under his fingers making you shiver as his nimble fingers wandered. It was the intimacy, sexual and quasi-sexual, that made you realise, that there was something wrong.

Sex- it had been a constant in your life other than Tom. But of course, you didn't live on it. It was but a fuel that strengthened your relationship, it was about discovery and showing your vulnerable sides. It was a reminder of the coffee dates and baseball matches. It was loving, gentle and raw, like a gentle breeze caressing your face.

But this, this was different. And you noticed. This, what you had been doing, it was fucking. It was aggressive and needy and it felt good, but at the same time, it felt different.

"Baby?" You asked softly, trying to meet his eyes in the dark lit trailer. It was late, way past filming times, the only time you got to see his vulnerable side. 

You should have been in his hotel room, but you were in his trailer instead. All alone in the all encompassing darkness, it made your heart stutter beats. 

"Baby speak to me. What's happening, who's doing this to you?" You ask once again, holding onto him firmly this time, his squirming frame making you loosen your hold. You didn't care that you were naked, he had already seen it all. 

Fiddling with the rough sheets, he huffed a heavy breath. And that was all it took for the dam to break. 

"Tell me how do you feel baby, you're starting to scare me." You urged. All you got in response was his muffled sobs. Pulling him forward, you let his head rest on your bare chest, rivulets of tears sliding down your warm skin, almost burning you like acid, his tiny hair tickling you, a very contrasting feeling. 

"I can't do it. I can't take it anymore." He sniffed, wrapping his strong arms around you, shivering at the contact. It was a cold night in Cleveland, and you were naked and he was crying. You were berating yourself for not noticing. 

"What can't you take anymore?" You hold him, tracing circles on his buzz cut hair, just the way you did when he had his curls. 

"I feel like I'm becoming him. I don't like it at all, I try and try but I can't." He sobs, shoulders hitching with each sob. You felt your heart break, the sounds of his cries sending daggers into your skin. 

How could you have not noticed? The lively sunshine of a man was almost an empty shell. The interviews with former drug addicts had been excruciating for you, pity, disgust, sympathy and every other sinful emotion swirling in your mind. 

You couldn't believe that you hadn't thought about Tom, of what an effect it would have on him. 

"Bub, listen to me, carefully," you said, shushing him as he continued to look at you, teary eyed and red nosed, snot dripping out of his nose,"you listen to me. You're strong and resilient and nothing like him okay? He's not you. You're Tom Holland. You're brilliant and brave and amazing okay?" 

"But I don't feel that way!" He said, his aggressive stance surprising you, "he's- he's…" 

"He's what?" You asked, a little too impatient. Muttering a sorry, you rub your palm on his cheek, kissing the soft, moist skin.

"I don't feel so good." He croaked, getting up suddenly, making a run for the washroom. You rushed after him, watching him as he heaved into the toilet. Rubbing his back, you muttered affirmations, curling besides him as he sat on the ground, his back to the cold wall. 

You got up to switch on the lights, feeling his hands tugging yours, a soft "stay" coming out of him. 

"Better?" You asked, feeling him now against your collarbone. 

"I shouldn't be this affected, this- this isn't fair. I'm overreacting, I'm sorry I worried you baby I swear I didn't mean to-" 

"Shh, Tom first of all, you're not overreacting okay?" You smiled, kissing his nose, moving towards his brows and his forehead, "It's perfectly reasonable. The role you're playing...It's not exactly picking daisies. Fuck you're playing a heroin addict Tommy, a broken soldier with PTSD, a breakdown was inevitable. It only shows that you're human." 

"Really?" He smiled, it looked more like a grimace, a plea for reassurance. 

"Yes, really." You said, booping his nose, eliciting a giggle from him,"now, you better go to bed mister, you have an early shoot don't you?" You playfully scolded, kissing his lips, laughing as he carried you bridal style. 

"Tomorrow will be better." You whispered, kissing his eyelids, already closed, chest moving rhythmically as you counted his pulse, making sure he was completely asleep before slipping on your clothes, covering him with the thin quilt. 

***

"Is everything okay on set?" You asked casually, watching the crewmates work tirelessly in the daylight. 

You were standing next to Ciara on a prop jeep, fiddling with the water bottle held in your hand. 

"Hmm, as okay it can be with two people playing drug addicts." She shrugged, looking at you with a small smile. 

"Are you okay?" You asked, turning to give her your full attention, remembering your boyfriend's breakdown yesterday. 

"It gets… intense at times. Some scenes are hard to play, but we're okay. Mostly." She answered, taking your water bottle and chugging the water. 

"I'm not a therapist, but you can talk to me, you know?" You smiled, holding her shoulder as she gave you a bashful smile. 

"It's been tough on Tom. He's more aggressive, nearly had a breakdown during a scene." She said. 

"Yeah, that.. that happened yesterday too." 

"It was time, a person can only hold so much right?" 

"Yeah." 

You pondered her words, wondering if you could do anything to curb this. 

"I think I need help." He said one day while you were eating dinner. Harry, who was sitting next to you, looked up from his plate, giving you a knowing look before clearing his throat. 

"I'm gonna get some water." He said, waving awkwardly at you and getting up. You took that as a cue to scoot closer to Tom, running your hands through his camel hair. 

"That's very brave of you hun, asking for help." You smiled, kissing his cheek softly. You felt him smile, sliding closer to you, holding you by your waist. 

"I learnt from the best." He muttered in your hair, kissing your forehead. 

You felt his love that day, felt the way he ran his smooth fingers on your waistline, sliding across your thighs with care and softness you hadn't felt in a while. He was healing. It was a process, it took time but it happened.

***

You were walking across the library, his hand in yours, your hearts beating in silence. 

"How was your appointment?" You asked, shivering in the cold air. You rubbed your palms together, bringing your jacket closer to your chest, huffing the cold air. 

"It was good, much different from what the media portrays. She even showed me this meme she thinks you would like, look." He said, bringing out his phone to show you the saved meme. 

You laughed at his eagerness, kissing his lips as a final gratification. 

"Well it looks like you're having a great time. You have another scene left to do today in the evening so we better scram." You reminded him. 

You always did that, remind him of his schedule, reminded him to take a breath when he felt like he was drowning. You reminded him of home and what he had to look forward to.

"Why can't we have a lazy day today?" He whined, kissing your neck, making you giggle as it tickled. 

"You know you can't do that hun, you already took three days off." You snickered, poking his sides. 

"Well that sucks. I just want to spend my day with my girl, is that too much to ask?" He smiled, kissing your forehead, one hand holding yours, swinging back and forth, the other holding a large cup of coffee in a tight grip. 

You reached to loosen his fingers, taking a sip, slurping loudly, making him laugh. You decided you liked this laugh much better, it was breathy and free, a melody to your ears. 

You noticed how he was more relaxed and back to being that ray of sunshine. Back to being your Tom.

Thanks for reading! also as a side note- here’s a similar fic @itsallyscorner​ !!