#please read trigger warnings

[shortstrawberry]

Hi hey omf I'm so glad you like my art and such cndmnd and even let me request stuff your writing is so amazing btw omf sorry this got me excited hahaha

But yeah yeah you said I can request anything and if it's cool for you to write abt my lil concept of Donna keeping MC's skull w her?? If it's not too much that is hahah I have the context for it in a reblog— Anyways yeah omf you're so cool ncmsns

For the readers, this is the art @knightlystargazer is referencing to. A wonderful and beautiful piece of work!

Also, ask and you shall receive, always!

Now some trigger warnings: Mildish Gore, violence, depiction of mental breakdown and obsession

****

Donna felt the red from her vision clearing away. Still, she only saw red. It was on her clothes, her hands, even on her face. She was covered in red.

The florist knew something has went terribly wrong. The blood was pounding in her ears so loud that she didn't even hear the loud cackling of someone else in her shop. Instead, Donna helplessly stared at her hands, before finally looking down at what she has done.

There, underneath her lay you. The person Donna so dearly loved. Still loves. And you were covered in even more red than Donna. It was all over the floor, and all of it coming from the heart. The very same heart that Donna adored to hear the beat of. Just laying her head against your chest and listening to your heart like it's her own lullaby.

One, two, three, dear lord how many times did I ---?

Donna's hands began to tremble violently, her eyes filling with tears. Her face was so covered in red that anyone would think she was crying tears of blood. And maybe she was, as Donna let out a desperate wail of grief and loss.

The laughter sound of the intruder only got louder at the pained screams of Donna. The florist immediately whipped her face towards the cause of this whole tragedy. The damned monster who has taken away everything from her.

"You! You fucking bitch."

Donna snarled, making Mother Miranda laugh louder. Donna saw red again, but this time it was caused by her own love, and not some twisted spell this witch stabbed her with.

Donna lunged for the woman, her knife ready for taking Miranda's throat. Unlike Miranda who has her cult for protection, Donna has lived her whole life in a war for survival. It wasn't difficult for Donna to physically overpower Miranda.

Donna felt herself crack even more when Miranda just smiled to her face, even with a knife against her throat.

"Go ahead, take my head for all I care. But your so called dolcezza won't come back. Not for you, at least."

Tears burned in Donna's eyes. That's right, what's the use of bloodying her hands with this witch's blood? The timeline would be reset again, and Miranda will make sure that her dolcezza would never even look at her. No, just like the previous rounds, Donna would be a outsider. Trapped in her greenhouse with hemlock and oleanders. Watching everyone else take you away from her.

Donna pushed Miranda away with a frustrated scream, feeling her sanity slipping away like grains of fine sand through a sieve. It's over. It's all over for her. All her life, all Donna has done is to make sure others are happy. Whether it be her sister, Angie, the Dimiterescu family and even this damned Miranda. The one time when she got someone that makes her happy, and it gets taken away.

"Why not spare me just this one round? Just one round?!"

Miranda this time didn't laugh at her. Instead she just looked at a crying Donna with what looks like borderline pity.

"You're just like me. You would have never let go either."

Donna cried harder, dropping to her knees beside her long gone dolcezza. She heard Miranda walking away, but she didn't care. She instead clutched at you, her fingers pressing down on the marks that she has left on the gentle body. Hoping against hope that blood would just stop flowing.

"You promised. You promised. You promised you'll never leave me!"

Donna looked around frantically, searching for something, anything that would keep you with her. Her eyes fell on a potted plant blooming Oleanders.

A flower that means captivating love. A love that is yours forever. A love that she wishes was hers forever.

A twisted smile formed on Donna's red face, knowing what she can do now to keep you with her, forever.

Sarai sempre mio, tesoro

You will always be mine, darling

[f1-disaster-bi]

Please post it tonight 🥺

It has been posted and you can read chapter two here!

Tw for vague mentions/references to suicide/sexual assult/r*pe

[youkissedareaderinthedark]

Coraline

Synopsis: Y/n’s childhood and history with her parents has always stayed a secret, and she likes it that way. Until a journalist reveals the truth, and everything seems to come crashing down at once.

young female driver reader x 2023 F1 grid

A/N: a few things for this fic: reader will be 20 years old, had driven for alpha tauri since the beginning of 2022, the 2022 is the same as the 2023 grid, and please look at the trigger warning below.

Trigger Warning: This fic contains abusive parents, talks of eating disorders, neglecting a kid, verbally abusing a kid, signs of depression, and a lot of hurtful comments in general. This fic is not meant to idolize or romanticize having abusive parents or depression. If anyone finds anything particularly disturbing with this fic, do not hesitate to let me know and I will fix it.

tagged: @treehouse-mouse

2023 was supposed to be a good season for Alpha Tauri. The cars looked good, your driver pairing was solid, and the hopes were high for your junior Red Bull team. You could only laugh at the naivety of it now.

Most of the season was exceptional; you and Yuki Tsunoda brought in points almost every weekend, your team was seventh in the constructors championship, and overall, you were having a great time traveling around the world.

This was your second year in Formula 1, and now that you weren’t a rookie anymore, you could have more fun now that you knew what you were doing.

Some people just don’t like others being happy, though.

With less than 10 races left, you walked into the paddock for the Monza Grand Prix Thursday afternoon feeling optimistic. This was the second race after the summer break, and Alpha Tauri was expected to do well in Italy.

Your press officer, Ally, greeted you in your garage, and after saying hello to Yuki, you followed her out of the garage and into the media pen for a press conference.

You walk in to see Lewis, Carlos, Lando, and Fernando and talked quietly with them as the press in front of you get settled. “Everybody ready? All right, first question please” One of the directors asks, as a journalists speaks up.

“Lewis, you’ve witnessed the infamous ‘Monza Curse’ multiple times in your career, do you think the theory is true and will it strike again this year?”

“Um, no” Lewis chuckles. “I don’t believe in the curse, but it would be nice to see someone new finish first today, and if a curse is what it’s going to take, then yeah, why not”

The five of you laugh, not noticing the second journalist beginning to speak. “Y/n, what do you have to say about the recent article published regarding your past with your family?”

You instantly stop laughing, hoping you misheard the man.

“Sorry?”

There’s no way

“The article? That was recently published concerning your past with your parents, what do you have to say about it?” The journalist stared at you curiously while your mind blanked for an answer.

You had no idea what article he was talking about, but if it concerned your past with your ‘family’, you knew it wasn’t anything that should be published.

Suddenly there’s movement in the midst of the media pen, and your press officer emerges from the crowd. “Y/n, come with me” She pauses, seeing one of the directors nearing out of the corner of her eye.

“It’s urgent, I need her” You’d take any excuse to get away from the current situation, so after exchanging a look with Lewis, you follow the woman into the paddock towards your garage.

Once you were both in the safety of your drivers room, you turned on her. “What article is he talking about? What’s going on?” You said, voice heavy with concern.

Ally hesitated, looking uncomfortable, before answering. “This morning, an article published a story talking about you and your parents, and the-um, harsh history you have with them” She hands you her phone, said article already open.

“I think it’s better if you read it yourself” The bold letters blink up at you, clear and sullen.

“F1 DRIVERS UNCOVERED: THE REAL REASON WE DON’T SEE Y/N L/N’S PARENTS”

Your heart falls to your stomach and your hands start to shake as your eyes skim over the words of the most invading and overwhelming article you’ve ever read in your life. Whoever wrote this, wrote it in hopes of exposing every secret of your past, and further tangles the truth of an already over-complicated background.

The real reason your parents are never around you is a reason you hate talking about.

You first realized it when you were around ten years old, the way your parents never looked happy around each other, and always tense around other parents. The way they never said ‘I love you’ or kissed each other goodbye. It confused you, as these were the things you always saw your friend’s parents do, but you were too young to understand at the time, so you mainly ignored it.

It wasn’t until one night when you were eleven that you heard an argument erupting from your kitchen, one about money and divorces and you. The shouting continued for ages, until you heard one statement, loud and clear.

“Think about this, she’s getting good in those karting competitions of hers, and according to other parents she could go really far in this thing and get money from sponsorships and mentors. So let’s just give it a little time, make sure she gets better and gets paid, and the money will go to us and eventually she’ll leave to Formula- whatever and we won’t have to worry about her”

You put your pillow over your head, turned around, and went to sleep sobbing that night.

From then on, there was no ‘I love you’s’ or kisses goodbye even to you, and eventually, no happiness in your house. The ‘other parents’ were right, the older you got, the farther you looked to go in racing. Just before you turned 13, the three of you moved to a city in England so you could pursue karting further, and that’s when it all got worse.

You competed in countless competitions, and every race you won, the more criticism you got from your mom and dad. The second you stepped off the 1st place podium, your parents were waiting to comment on your driving and the techniques you should’ve used to win.

They never let you focus on anything but karting, letting you go nowhere but the track and to school, and made sure you were always looking for ways to get better. They ruthlessly compared you to kids in other series that were performing better than you, and countered every compliment someone gave you with a complaint.

All of this seemed like a dream compared to the treatment you got when you lost. Whether it be second, or tenth, every race you didn’t come first in was a loss, and your parents simply didn’t accept this.

When you lost, they’d make you practice on track for twice as long, no matter the weather, and berated you the second you started to complain. They limited your diet after your losses, claiming you needed to be lighter if you wanted the kart to go faster.

Your mother and father gave you this relentless attention with anything regarding racing, but the moment the topic drifted, you were neglected. There were no family dinners or movie nights, if you wanted something, you were going to have to buy it with your own money, and if you wanted to go somewhere, you needed to walk or find a ride because they refused to drive you anywhere if it wasn’t for a race.

There was no other family to go to even when things go impossibly rougher; you had no other relatives in the UK, and you couldn’t exactly ask your friends if you could live with them.

So you endured these conditions, all the way through the F4 British Championship, F3 and F2. You turned 18 while you were in Formula 2, and the second you did, you took the little money you had, and rented an apartment in South England, where you’ve been living ever since.

Your parents constantly contacted you in whatever ways they could, but you very quickly made sure they didn’t know where you lived and were never given paddock passes again. No one knows any of this anyway; when people ask where your parents are or when they’d get to meet them, you just shrug and say, “they couldn’t make it”

You haven’t seen your parents in person since you were 17, and you’ve done everything in your power to keep it like that.

Though with a few thousand words and 4 hours, one nosy journalist has managed to unravel all your work and growth and release it into the world.

You’re broken out of your stunned silence when Ally puts a hand on your shoulder. “I’ve set up a meeting with Alpha Tauri and Red Bull’s PR managers so we could figure out what we should do next to keep the press off your back, okay? The meeting’s in fifteen meetings, so I’ll leave you for a while”

Ally takes her phone back and exits the room to leave you standing still in the middle of it, astonished and speechless.

The meeting goes as well as you expected it to go. You shared as much as the truth as you saw fit, and came up with a statement to post with the rest of the PR managers. You were confirmed to go back to the media pen to finish interviews an hour later, and while no one asked you about the article, you could tell it was the unanswered question they all wanted to raise.

You are able to avoid most of the press of the remaining of the Italian weekend, and stuck to answering race-related questions only, your safest and only option, Ally told you later. You finished the Grand Prix P10, and flew home still sullen.

You spent the two weeks in between Monza and Japan in your apartment, regretfully thinking about all those years you had to spend under your parent’s treatment, and trying to forget them with simulator work.

You arrive in Suzuka, quiet and unsmiling, and try to ignore the shouting of the press that greets you on your way into the paddock. Ally guides you away as two new voices greet you.

“Hey Y/n, how are you?” Lewis asks, pulling you into a side hug and stepping into place beside you.

“Are you okay? You seem off” Charles says concerned, meeting you in a handshake.

“I’m fine, my flight just got in late last night so I’m tired, that’s all” You half smiled in response, hoping it was believable enough.

“Sure?” Lewis presses father. “Yeah, I’m okay” You nod.

“Okay, well, we’re still going into the city after media today?” Lewis asks. “Of course, I’ll meet you guys at my hotel after” You assure as you near the Alpha Tauri garage.

“See you then, and try to sleep a bit, yes?” Charles says before the two men walk off together.

Your friendship with the two drivers started because of the Spanish and British Grand Prix’s, the two races that gave you your two highest race finishes, and ended with two of your closest friends. Spain was a great race for both you and Lewis, yourself in P4, him in P2, and after non-stop talking in the paddock, you flew back to the UK together, effectively starting the friendship existing today.

You’d been friendly with Charles previously, but after his P9 finish in Silverstone and your P5 finish, he realized in a conversation before an interview that you were undeniably good at cheering people up, and you guys have been close since.

You’ve talked with them since Monza, of course, but not about the article. They want to talk to you about it, you can tell, but Charles and Lewis aren’t the type of people to just come right out and ask if you’re feeling okay about your history with your abusive parents being exposed to the world.

They also don’t want to pressure you into talking about something you clearly don’t want to talk about, so if all they can do is help distract you from the media, they’re going to.

Your night out with the Mercedes and Ferrari drivers does distract you; Lewis leads you and Charles to different shops and restaurants all over Suzuka, talking and laughing the entire time. You take a few photos along the way, and you go back to your hotel still smiling.

You kept your good mood until qualifying on Saturday, and are brought back into the reality of racing when you only manage P11. It’s technically not bad of a result for your car, but P9 or P8 would’ve been better right now, because all you can think about is what your parents would’ve said if you finished P11.

They’re paying you millions of dollars to race for them and the best you can do is eleventh?

You think you deserve to be here?

They are hundreds of other drivers that would do so much better than you

You are nothing compared to the other drivers

You’re lucky if you keep you seat next season, I know I wouldn’t let a P11 driver on my team

You go quiet at the thought, and get through post-race media stoic. You leave with your trainer as soon as you can, avoiding Lewis and Charles’s eyes on your way out. You have a week before you have to leave for Qatar, and spend a countless amount of hours on your simulator, hoping this time it’ll make a difference.

You flew into Lusail not knowing what to expect other than hot weather, and unfortunately you were right. You felt the heat as soon as you got in your car for FP1 on Friday and was already dreading the rest of the weekend.

You qualify P11 for both the race and the sprint, and end up in P12 for the two. You felt terrible after Sunday’s race, both physically and mentally, and you’re already berating yourself for your performance by the time you get weighed.

Charles and Lewis are in your post-race press conference group, and you can see them exchange a look after every cold and detached answer you give. You only stop to talk to your friends for a few minutes afterwards before you excuse yourself to go cool down, and leave minutes later with the defense of needing rest.

You fly back to the UK with Lewis, and you’re glad the two of you are asleep for most of the trip so Lewis won’t ask you to talk about why you’ve been so quiet.

The 10 days you have until you fly out to Austin are spent mostly on your phone, looking at all the comments people have been making about you since the article came out, saying how you probably deserved the treatment that you got, and how Alpha Tauri needs a more “stable” driver if they want to advance in the championship.

You don’t do much except exercise and train on the sim in those days, finding neither the desire or energy to do anything else.

Even though everyone is happy to be in Texas that week, you can’t find the energy to truly smile once that weekend. Charles and Lewis are practically stuck to your side, and even though you can tell they’re dying to ask you to talk about it, they only ask a few times if you wanted to tell them something, and when you denied, and simply offered companionship through silence.

It’s another sprint race, and you only pull off P12 and 13 for qualifying and the shootout, and drop a place by the end of both races.

You feel more frustrated with yourself than ever; you don’t understand why you can’t work with the car like you once used to, and you can’t even figure out how to again. You were doing so well until that fucking article came out, and all the sudden you don’t know how to drive.

The worst part about it is that every race, more and more people are realizing how you’ve been under-performing, and how people are starting to question your ability to drive for the junior Red Bull team.

You aren’t stupid, you know how things work at Red Bull, so you know that if you don’t pick your pace up soon, you could end up without a seat for the 2024 season.

This thought alone starts to destroy you, and soon you can’t even deny how burnt out you are. You pick up on the forced habit of not eating much, and making yourself to do nothing but train and look for ways to be better.

You spend the days before Mexico with data analysts and strategists, looking for any and every way to go faster. You dedicate too much time looking at successful F2 drivers, hearing Liam Lawson’s name come up too much for comfort, thinking about how Dennis Hauger had been looking fast in F2.

It’s a terribly unhealthy time killer, one that makes you look sick and go quiet. Charles and Lewis aren’t the only ones exchanging concerned looks now; multiple other drivers on the grid, friends with you or not, notice the change in your behavior and quickly grow worried when they hear Yuki’s description of you.

The drivers aren’t stupid either, they all know about the article that was published in September, and most of them would be lying if they said they hadn’t looked at it in curiosity. They’d also be lying if they saw their eyes didn’t widen in concern or eyebrows didn’t furrow with worry when they read how terrible your parents treated you.

The grid saw how the comments got nastier and nastier under your lessening social media posts every day, and even asked your PR officer multiple times to make sure she was managing your accounts and making sure you didn’t see what people had to say about your background or yourself.

They saw how you got quieter every race, how you stopped hanging out with Yuki and Charles and Lewis, no matter how many times they offered. They saw the rumors of you and your 2024 seat, how apparently Helmut Marko was paying close attention to you and the clauses in your contract.

They asked a lot, if you wanted to talk or if they could help in any way. It was always the same response; a weary smile, a small shake of the head, the words,“No, I’m fine, just tired” and an excuse that you were needed in your garage or media pen.

So they try to help in more discreet ways; when Yuki is asked about your position on Alpha Tauri or your future with Red Bull, he calmly assures that you are working hard with the team, and is doing everything possible to understand the car.

Charles, Lewis, and a few other drivers make a routine of coming to your driver’s room, most of the time just to sit with you as you look at data, or talk with you when you’re feeling up to it.

Mexico goes somehow worse than Texas, and you finish with your lowest result in F1 yet, P15. You try to be as approachable as possible in post-race media, but your sullen face gives you away.

You leave with Ally and your trainer to catch your flight to Brazil mere hours after you passed the checkered flag, and spend most of your time in Sau Paulo alone in your hotel room, replaying every hurtful comment either your mother and father or fans have said about you, and debating whether or not it was true.

You walk into the Brazilian paddock Thursday morning more grateful than you thought possible that this was the third-to-last race of your season.

And according to over twenty media sources, your third-to last race of F1.

After a public statement made by Marko talking about how Red Bull was “considering your future with their junior team” every journalist in the F1 community has decided that it means this was your last season in F1.

And honestly, you couldn’t find it in yourself to care. Whether you raced in 2024 or not, you just wanted to go home and avoid the press for three months.

It was another sprint weekend, and another terrible qualifying and shootout. You placed 15th in both sessions and kept your place in the sprint, and spent a quiet Saturday evening in your hotel.

You could feel almost every journalists eye’s turn to you as soon as you walked into the paddock on Sunday. You arrived early that afternoon to get some extra data-stuff done, only now realizing that it gave the growing group of reporters behind you more time to ask you questions.

“Y/n! Can you tell us about your future in F1?”

“Will you have a seat next year?

“Y/n, what does Helmut Marko think about your decrease in performance?”

“Does your past with your parents have anything to do with your recent race results?”

You try to keep your face emotionless as you make your way into the Alpha Tauri garage and to your drivers room. You prepare for the race with your personal trainer and look over the arranged strategies for Sau Paulo while you wait for the go-ahead to get in your car.

Due to all the crashed-out cars, you ended the race in P12 in front of Oscar Piastri and Daniel Ricciardo. Statistically speaking, it was one of your better 2023 races, but everyone knows if it wasn’t for all the DNF’s, you’d finish in the bottom five.

You know that everyone knows this because just before you walked into the media pen after your race debrief, you saw Christian Horner and Marko speaking to your team principle, and after Yuki’s P9 finish today, it didn’t take you even a second to understand who they were talking about with disappointed faces and multiple shakes of the head.

Sure, this could mean nothing. This could just be a conversation between the three people that control the top team and it’s junior team. But you also like to think you’re a bit smarter than that.

You walked deeper into the crowded area before the three could see you, and walked to the first open journalist you saw, in hopes of leaving early.

“Y/n, hi! Not too bad of a race for you today, I guess?” The man asked, pointing his microphone towards you

“Yeah, not too bad. The car felt pretty okay and there was a bit of pace, but not enough to overtake or anything, clearly” You reply.

“Can we expect more race pace from you in Las and Vegas and Abu Dhabi?”

“I mean, it’s a bit too early to tell, but we’ll hope and see what comes out out of the practices” The man nods before looking down at his notebook.

“And your seat for Alpha Tauri next year, we know you’re apart of the confirmed driver lineup for 2024 but Helmut Marko states that there are attainable clauses in your contract, what do you think about that?”

You’re caught off guard by the question, but right when you’re about to respond, the man continues.

“Surely, Alpha Tauri isn’t really considering keeping you for next season, are they?”

You’re standing in front of the man speechless now, your brain barely comprehending what’s being spoken.

“Because I know the last thing a team wants is an incapable driver that is too emotionally effected by her “traumatic” childhood to race,” the volume of his voice starts to increase, and other drivers are starting to focus on your one-sided conversation.

“I mean, c’mon, no one even believes that even happened to you, and if it did, your parents were probably right for doing it-”

Your hands are shaking, eyes are wide with shock, body suddenly freezing, and you don’t even think you’re breathing. All you can do is listen as this man goes on and on about how you’re a shitty driver and deserved how your parents treated you.

You’re only broken out of your trance when an arm clad in red wraps around your shoulders and pulls you through the paddock. You’re not even aware of the yelling from a certain Mercedes drivers gets quieter and quieter as you’re brought into your driver’s room.

You’re being sat on a couch, and suddenly Charles Leclerc’s face is right in front of you, hands on your shoulders and eyes filled with concerned. “Y/n? Y/n, look at me, please, Y/n-” Your eyes dart to him and in an instant, everything from the past five minutes comes rushing through your head, and you can’t stop the tears that start to fall down your face.

“Oh, Y/n” The Ferrari driver moves to comfort you, but stops as you begin to cover your face and move away.

“No, Y/n, it’s okay, please, let me help you, Y/n” Charles wraps his arms around you in a hug as your body begins to shake with uncontrollable sobs.

“I can’t- I can’t do this anymore, Charles” You say in between breaths.

“I have to quit or something, I can’t keep doing this Charles, I can’t” You let your head fall on his shoulder, as the man tries to calm you down.

Charles’ heart is breaking as he comforts his friend; he remembers loving his first few years in Formula 1, how everything was so new and exciting to him, he could never not want to race, not then and not now. But to hear one of his closest friends breakdown because of how much she hates being there, makes the man’s heart shatter.

The door abruptly opens, and for a moment, all you can hear is the low angry cursing of Lewis Hamilton, until he sees you and Charles, and his face immediately softens.

“Love, I’m so sorry. That guy is a complete arsehole, don’t listen to him” The British man says as he takes a seat beside you and wraps an arm around your shoulders.

“I don’t know what to do anymore, I feel so stuck in this place where everyone is always talking about what happened and I don’t know how much longer I can go through it” You say, your voice breaking off with another sob.

Charles hushes you once more, exchanging a worried look with Lewis as you pull away from him again. “I’m sorry, I know I should be doing better and everything but I just can’t-” You say, voice shaky through the tears.

“Don’t for one second be sorry that you’re not competitive right now. Y/n, thousands of people are talking about the one thing that hurt you the most, and I understand why you feel this way, just please, love, for your own good, let us help you. I promise it will make you feel better” Lewis assures, grabbing your hand.

So for the first time, you do. For over an hour, you tell Charles and Lewis everything that happened when you were younger, and how the article has made you feel since then. They listen quietly, nodding once in a while to let you know they understand, and gave you a hug when you stopped talking.

“Do you feel better now?” Lewis asks.

“Yeah, not entirely, but better”

“Good, that’s all I wanted to hear,”

“Are you ready to go home now? There’s a plane waiting for us, if you want”

“Definitely. I need to go home” You say as Charles helps pack up all your things and Lewis makes sure there’s a car waiting for you two outside. As you’re all walking through the nearly-empty paddock, Charles turns to you.

“I have to go back to my garage, but please Y/n, if you ever need to talk, call me? I want to help you, I don’t want to see you like this again” The Monegasque brings you into a hug.

“I know, Charles, I will” You promise.

“Okay, I’ll see you before Vegas, yes? Feel better!” He calls as he moves backwards and further into the paddock.

“You promise?”

Lewis asks you hours later in the front of the airport in England, just about to get into separate cars.

“Yes, Lewis, I’ll call when I need” You say to the older man in a hug.

“Alright, text me when you’ve made it home and make sure you get some rest. Don’t be too hard on yourself either, you don’t give yourself enough credit for everything you do” You smile at him.

“Okay, I’ll see you before Vegas?”

“See you before Vegas!” He shouts from his already-closed car door.

When you do see the two next, they make sure you’ve made an appointment with a therapist and are setting up a meeting with your PR manager to put together a statement in regards to your well-being the past two months.

Charles and Lewis make sure the media inside the paddock is severely monitored and checked before being allowed near the drivers, and help you fall back into healthier habits.

These changes don’t happen overnight, and they don’t take affect overnight, but you do use the winter off season to make sure these changes are helpful and working.

The three month break is utilized to mentally and physically prepare yorself in time for your 2024 seat at Alpha Tauri that was re-confirmed after your P8 finishes in Las Vegas and Abu Dhabi.

The media still knows everything, and you haven’t completely forgotten your childhood, you never will, but dealing with it still gets easier.

[unwishablestars]

Hi I’m not sure if you take this type of requests and if you don’t you can just ignore it. Could you do Cassidy, Hanzo, Genji, Lifewaever and Mauga (not sure if you writ for him) comforting their s/o after they got rescued from being kidnapped. Can you also add that the s/o was pregnant but had a miscarriage due to the kidnapping? If you don’t want to add the last bit that’s fine.

Thank you. 😊

I failed

Pair(s): Cassidy x Pregnant!Reader | Hanzo x Pregnant!Reader | Genji x Pregnant!Reader | Lifeweaver x Pregnant!Reader

Genre: Angst , Hurt/Comfort (little comfort ngl)

Word Count: 1.3k

Tags: Headcanons, Angst, Miscarriage, Multi-Character, uhhhhhhhhhhhhh

TWs: Miscarriage, Kidnapping, Angst, Mildly-described violence

Summary: Cassidy/Hanzo/Genji/Lifeweaver's partner get kidnapped while pregnant leading to reader's miscarriage.

A/N: HIIIII ANONNNN!!! Thank you so much for your request!<3 I'm really sorry about the delay since life got in the way a bit :( And sorry I don't write for Mauga cuz idk how yet--- fresh hero ykyk</3 I hope you like this though!! Sorry for the delay again :(

Cassidy

Even before joining overwatch Cassidy was already a pretty wanted man due to him being part of the dead lock gang

And it never really changed when he joined overwatch

Though this time he wasn't a criminal but he was still in a dangerous field, but you always loved him because you've seen him in all the ways he loves you.

He was swooned when he met you.

One cheesy love story later, BOOM, you're preggers.

Whether you were a civilian or an agent, Cassidy WILL NOT let you get involved with his work while pregnant.

So he was absolutely distraught when he couldn't find you in you're shared home.

He walks through the door calling out for your name, ready to pamper you for the night, only to get no response.

Suddenly, he sees the signs of struggle. Knocked over furniture, thrown books, and just a general mess of your home

He is frantic.

Starts yelling your name, running around the house trying to look for you. "..Fuck..FuckfuckfuckfuckfuckFUCK"

After a few hours, they eventually locate you. They waste no time at all.

The plan was simple, (maybe even too simple), just get you out of there. Unharmed.

Cole, with worry and adrenaline as strong as ever, finds you tied to a chair. Crying, distraught, and bleeding.

Now you lay on the base's medic bay, face showing numbness as you learned the news of your baby.

Everyone had left after attempting to comfort you. All except for you lover.

He held your hand as he felt a familiar pain of loss, holding back tears, he just wanted to make sure you knew you weren't alone. And that he is so sorry.

"Darlin.. fuck.. I'm so sorry.. I was supposed to protect you. Our child.. it's my-- I'm so fucking sorry, love. Please.. please don't hate me."

Of course you didn't hate him. But too exhausted to speak, you brought his hand up to your cheek and weakly said "Just.. stay.."

"Darlin.. I will never leave your side."

Hanzo

Hanzo has been hiding in the shadows and constantly on the run for years. Alone. Until you, of course.

You offered to give him a place to stay after seeing him about to doze off sitting on a bench in the park

"No, it's fine. I'm just resting." He was literally about to pass out--

He had eventually opened up to you after much persistence and kindness, and grew incredibly fond of you.

To him, you brought him peace.

For a while, he tried to lessen contact with you as to avoid any conflicts with the people searching for him.

But he was conflicted when he found out you were pregnant. He did not want to leave your side but he also did not want to endanger you, especially in this state.

After some reassurance, he agreed to stay and take care of you.

He had hoped he would lay low enough that not only would he have to worry about your safety but also be able to be a present father to his child.

But when he came to your shared home and the door wide open, he fuckin lost it.

Frantically looking for you in your home, swearing all sorts in his home tongue didn't solve the issue.

He couldn't find you but he did find an envelope containing you're whereabouts.

They've been planning this for a while, how long were they watching him? Why did they only strike when you're health was so critical.

Hanzo was livid realizing this.

He headed to your location and found you tied to a chair, sac over your head, in a dimly lit warehouse

He knew it was a trap but ain't no way he would let anyone put a finger on you.

After being roughed up himself, (but ultimately beating the shit put of a of em) he took a look at you and saw the bruises, the scrapes

and the blood down there

he held you close, forever blaming himself for what happened

Genji

Genji and you met during your time in overwatch while they were in their prime

He was emo back then but you liked that,

And when he realized he liked you're unconditional admiration, he liked you too.

He didn't admit it of course, neither to himself nor to you but whatever.

Years later, Winston sends the recall.

And he was pleased to find out you had come back,

With a new mentality, a new acceptance of himself, and a more open acceptance of your love.

This time he made the first move, trying to act smooth like his pre-overwatch days, but his stuttering and nervousness gave it away though.

He was worried you'd remembered him as the angry and vengeful man he once was, but you saw who he was deep down

Which is the exact reason why he fell in love with you.

Eventually, after feeling a bit of morning sickness he urged you to go Mercy or Bap or anyone to help you get better.

Only for you to find out you're pregnant.

You stayed away from missions for a while as Genji requested, at most doing paperwork and helping a bit around the base.

But when the base was suddenly attacked, Genji pinned, yelling at you to stayed back.

You tuned out his pleads and gripped your weapon to help the father of your child.

And you did, but you were knocked out and taken away. He was too weak to reach you.

They immediately set out to rescue you, fully aware of your vulnerable state.

Though they had insisted for Genji to heal up first, through his broken visor, he shot them a glare that wouldn't stop him from saving his love.

After finding you in a cell, bruises all over in a weakened state, unconscious, he carried you back to the ship and held you close, eye getting watery.

You woke up in a hospital bed in the medbay, the first thing you notice being the ache your body feels, and the pain in your stomach.

Then, you notice your lover hold you close and tight.

Followed by the sorrowful looks of the doctors.

They left to give you two some space.

"I'm.. so sorry.. please.. forgive me.."

With tears in your eyes, you held each other close, never wanting to let go again.

Lifeweaver

You had worked alongside Lifeweaver in his development of biolight,

He loved having you at his side.

Soon he took you dates, brought you gifts and food, too show appreciation.

Not realizing he was indulging in his growing love for you.

After giving him some clarity of his feeling with a bold kiss, you two were inseparable, even more than before.

After you had missed you're period, you showed your lover the positive test and he way beyond joyful.

He always urged you to rest and didn't let you lift a finger. He didn't want you to be stressed or worried, he saw such beauty in you.

But those you wanted his biolight saw opportunity.

He was out buying food for you and his future baby but he came home to an open door, silence, thrown trinkets and portraits.

In his panic, he wondered whether or not he would need to contact his family. Or Satya. Or Baptiste. Anyone.

He received a video file on his desktop.

Asking for the acces to his biolight as well as the information to it's creation.

He was shaking, he wasn't strong enough to fight them on his own, he needed help. He needed you. Please come back to me.

He cannot wait any longer. He caved. Only for you. And for them.

He had sent all the information they needed. And as breathed heavily on his knees. He heard a vehicle arrive at his estate.

He hurried out, even almost tripping in the process, he needed to see you were okay, that you were both okay.

He saw you being lead to the front gate, and the abductors lackey walking back to their vehicle.

Giving him a face of no remorse.

As he held you in his arms once again, the look in your eyes had told him everything.

You two stayed there. Just feeling the comfort of what you two still had. Each other.

[effieandtim]

jonathan bailey’s new interview is an extremely difficult but must read

TW: extreme homophobia and threat to life

i’ve been thinking about this since the interview was released and have so many thoughts and all of them leave me terrified

every part of this horrible incident has shaken me up so much and this is when this happened to someone whom I personally don’t even know. i cannot imagine what jonathan and his family went through.

it’s terrifying that this happened not even two months ago and RIGHT AFTER the hrc gala - it sickens me that such a brazen incident of homophobia happened in the US which calls itself such a progressive country but is full of bigots

and like this happened to a white man who doesn’t ‘look’ queer - i shudder to think what queer women, trans folks, and poc go through??

like there are so many things that could have gone wrong - what if the man actually had a weapon on him? like he would have most probably acted on his words if he had it on him. and that is so, so scary. thank god for angela who genuinely saved jonathan’s life there

and the fact that jonny tried to negotiate with the man and tried to calm him down by asking where he’s from and probably other things as well shows that they had no idea whether he was armed or not

i know he tried to joke whilst telling this story but you can clearly see how affected he was and really i would be so scared to leave my house after this, it’s such a traumatic incident

anyway, i really hope he’s doing okay, and glad to see he’s channelling the aftermath into making schools a safe space for queer kids to grow up in bc he’s right - that man is probably a child’s father or relative or acquaintance and there are so many people like him in the world

im sorry if this triggered or upset anyone, i felt like i needed to vent bc i honestly am so shaken by this

[42spideys]

— good dog

you don’t need to use your brain, you don’t need to do anything but listen to the only person that matters. leon s. kennedy.

warnings: m.reader, dead dove, yandere! leon, dark content, reader literally doesn’t know how to think without leon helping, abuse, mentions of scars, leon is loving towards reader, mentions of whipping, i might continue this later on but im not sure

enjoy (ㅅ´ ˘ `) !!

leon has had you to himself for months now and he’s so happy about it, he loves having you around. he’s so proud about how well you have adapted to your new home, he hated hurting you like that but you just kept fighting him….so he had to teach you how to be good.

“l-leon! let me go! why are you doing this!?” you screamed, thrashing around in your binding on the cold floor of leon’s basement. you couldn’t read leon’s face at all and it scared you, he stole you from your own home and kept you in his basement. why? what did you do wrong? was he mad? did he hate you? was he going to kill you? these thoughts brought you to tears, you started sobbing profusely while begging leon to let you go.

“shh shh….don’t cry angel. if you keep fighting me i’ll have to hurt you, i don’t want to hurt you baby.” his voice had a dark sense of sympathy, he took you into arms and started rocking back and forth. you thought this was a great attempt to escaped, the only thing that he bothered to tie were your arms. you nuzzled his arm and peppered it with light kisses, he smiled softly thinking you have finally listened to him. he felt a sharp pain in his arm and let out a scream, you bit him. you bit him? are you fucking crazy?

you desperately tried to run up the stairs screaming, trying to get anyone’s attention, you were didn’t know how it happened. your head stung, it burned, your vision was blurry. you saw leon standing above you and his stare was dark, he was breathing heavily in dangerous excitement. he crouched down and grabbed you by your hair, he pulled you close to his face and spat on you.

“bad dog. are you that fucking stupid?” you whined at his words, they were so cruel. you shouldn’t want him to praise you, you need to leave, you need to escape. you tried to pull away from him which was meat with a harsh smack to the face, you cried out in pain. “m’sorry! please no more…i-i promise i-i’ll listen i’m sorry..” you cried trying to convince him you were serious, you didn’t want to be hit anymore. leon looked at you for a moment before smiling, the smile made you feel safe for a moment…. he leaned towards your ears.

“fucking liar. i’ll beat it into your head that you are just a fucking dog, and bad dogs get punished.”

-

now look at you, you’re being such a good dog for leon! you have graduated from basement to doggy bed right next to leon, instead of not eating at all you get delicious food and snacks in your pretty dog bowl, no more hitting, no more whipping you until you bleed, no more choking till you pass out. you’re a good dog now! so you get spoiled all the time, like a good dog.

“puppy, come here please.” he hears the quick jingle of your pretty leash and collar coming towards him, it makes him smile to himself. you crawl to him with a dazed look in your eyes, ever since you the first couple of weeks of him teaching you to be a good dog you now don’t know how to function without him. you nuzzled his leg im admiration, you melted into him when he started to rub your head.

leon was the only thing that you could think of, leon was your perfect owner! he gave you everything now, belly rubs, kisses, good scratches, cuddles, everything. you just had to be good for him, that’s was it, that was all. if you were a good boy you god a happy leon, if you were a bad boy you had to stay in the basement for a month.

“such a good puppy, you’re all mine yeah?” you let out a soft noise of approval “you only think of me, right pup?” you let out another noise of approval “should i kiss you? do you think that you deserve it, pup?” you say upright and nodded frantically while letting out pathetic whimpers, he smiled at your reaction and leaned down but stopped right before your face.

“i love you, pup.”

[enhanced-operatives-division]

Junicrane/Starstruck Ramble

I will not be brief, all under the cut

To clear some things right off the bat:

No corpse, no proof with Juniper. Obligatory this is set in a canon where he's alive and adjacent to the agency in some way.

Reggie & Juniper are just gay to me, but I don't mind any interpretation of their sexuality

The games are set in 1967/68 to me (based on a couple bits in game) which is before it was legal to be gay in America at least (1971), which is relevant to how I interpret canon as being somewhat grounded in reality, despite unrealistic elements.

This is just an insane amount of headcanons/elements of and AU all culminated into one post. I will talk about some headcanons like they're just facts because they are established in my head, and it saves me over explaining literally everything, however I will explain some parts a little bit for clarity.

Alright. Actual beginning of the ramble:

Juniper is a character to me who had gotten so lost in his job as an actor and a social presence that in the end his whole life revolved around that 'role'. Because of this, by the time he's put into the situation where he's around the Agency, he basically knows nothing about himself, though he doesn't realise at first. Furthermore, what little identity he had has changed in so many ways. He's no longer a beloved famous actor in the prominence of public light, he's legally dead and he tarnished his career just before he was supposed to die, with the bonus of that making him lose the majority of his estate. From that, he also has horrific facial scarring from the electrical burns from literally having his face fried. I believe a friend of mine made a post about this a while ago (I also think they were the first to think it up also), but, to me, Juniper has a permanent trimmer in his right arm (aka his dominant hand) from the electrical current and it is messing with his nervous system.

All in all, he's not doing great, but he's too proud to admit that he's not doing great, because if anything, what's left of his ego is all he has as a defense since he's deep in unfamiliar water.

Before ending up around the agency (I have multiple interpretations of this, so I'm just going to bring it up generally), he'd never actually seen Reggie, and his only impression of him is a single voicemail, which was his only reference he had to later impersonate him. Juniper probably has very little feelings other than the ones he projects onto him because of Phoenix and that, at the very least, he's physically attracted to Reggie to some degree (that's like the beginning of how everything else would tumble into place in this sort of interpretation at least).

And on Crane's side? His feelings towards Juniper are probably very intense and muddled. On the one hand, he adores musical theatre, and that's his now ex-favourite actor. The thought of just casually being around him blows the bit of fanboy in him away at first because THAT'S the GUY, plus the inklings of a celebrity crush which still poke at him. And then there's the rational side of him, which knows Juniper has committed absolute atrocities on the side of Zoraxis, and hates him for that. Then there's how much Juniper comes off as an asshole at first because he refuses to cooperate with anything the Agency tried to put in place. He finds Juniper endlessly frustrating, and yet he's stuck working with him since, afterall, he's the one who knows the Agency's history with Juniper the best. I imagine him acting a lot like how he does IEYTD 1 around Juniper.

At this point, I'm just describing the pitch for a romcom.

I think the start of their relationship with one another largely started with Juniper trying to wind Crane up. It was a way of getting his attention, and I don't think Juniper knows why he's so dead set on that at first, because I don't think he realises he has a crush on 'this grump' at first. (I think that's actually the fun part about these two, because it's almost like a role reversal of the celebrity crush dynamic. This ex-big name actor has a TERRIBLE crush on an average joe and it is KILLING HIM.) But of course the Agency keeps them together because Juniper is at least conversing with Crane, so it's a start.

Through one way or another, they actually get talking casually, at least mildly at first. It takes Juniper a long time to fully deconstruct the wall he's built, and the thing is, Crane isn't the one trying to deconstruct it, at least at first, because yeah, Juniper realises if he wants Reggie to actually like him in any way, he can't keep winding him up. So they talk. Small talk at first, something rhythmic and almost easy to keep to a script. And over time that turns into actual conversations. Genuine ones in which Reggie rips out the occasional one of his jokes which Juniper is endlessly endeared about. The way he smiles just before he makes them, like he wants to chuckle at what he's about to say before he says it. That's probably when Juniper realised that he does have some vague crush on him, and that it wasn't going away.

This is what kickstarts John I can't-buy-you-things-to-impress-you-so-acts-of-service-it-is Juniper to do little things for him. It mostly starts off as him trying to make Reggie his tea how he likes it. However, the nerve damage in his arm makes that hard, as the weight of the kettle and trying to pour is hard all of a sudden. And he refuses to accept that, so he tries for a very long while. Long enough that Crane would go to investigate what was going on. And when he does see Juniper leaning over a cup with the kettle as he uneasily tries to pour it, and when Crane asks Juniper responds so matter-of-fact that his intention is nothing but genuine. And it catches Reggie off guard because Juniper hadn't done anything like that up to that point, and his very apparent vulnerability is so clearly on show.

It shifts something between them.

From that point on, conversations are longer, more familiar. Both of their attitudes soften, and Reggie makes more jokes. Juniper learns how to better use his left hand while strengthening his right back to a point where it could be used again. Slowly, they're both spending time with one another not because they have to, but just because they can. Little bits at first, not too far outside what they already were doing, but those little bits turned into long bits to a point where the other person's company was genuinely desirable.

As time passes, Juniper probably realises that he doesn't genuinely know much about himself or what hobbies he's into, because he never really had the time when he got big, and his home life in his youth wasn't bad, but it wasn't picturesque. I think Reggie would pick up on it, and absolutely try to introduce him to some things he's into. Some things stick, other things don't (corn husking very much stays Reggie's passion, and John will go with him sometimes because it's him, but it's not something he strongly cares for). Crane introduces him to a lot of music, and it's something that becomes a staple between them, with tracks they listen to more than others (tragically, I know relatively little about 60s music so I couldn't really say what). Occasionally they dance, never anything intense, think slow dancing, but the closeness is nice.

Through all of it, Juniper is battling the worst crush of his life, and he can't stand it, because I think he struggles to read people since he doesn't have anything like a script or a director to refer back to, so he has no idea if Reggie likes him back or if he's just desperate for that to be true. I think because of that any sort of confession between them would be incredibly raw, not only because of the time they live in making it hard for them to be truthful about how they love, but because it's a complete show of Juniper who's worked to be this better person. I don't exactly know how that would go, mainly because I don't have one set version of their dynamic, this post is just a generalisation of main consistent points.

Reggie does like him back, because he's gotten used to Juniper being just this guy, not a figure in the public eye, not a Zoraxis lackey, and not any sort of Agency operative (despite being under their care to some degree). He's someone he genuinely cares for, because they've given one another the time of day to learn one another, and I think because Reggie was a field agent, he was a lot better at reading Juniper than Juniper was at reading him. Eventually Juniper's company becomes something he could see around him for the rest of his life, and I think he accepts that he likes Juniper a lot more gracefully.

I think any affection directed at Juniper would at first be met with him feeling a little muddled. Reggie was a very physically affectionate person when he could be, and sure the initial flirting with one another came with the occasional little touches, but everything now was so deeply intentional. I also don't think Juniper would almost ever get over the novelty of being able to kiss him, or many other gestures, because it made the fact that they were together so very real, and it was great. I do think it comes easier to Reggie, and it's a big way of showing how much he cares, so it's important for Juniper to try and show it back because he knows how much it means to the other.

I like the idea of them eventually living with one another, too. I think Juniper would have always had a quiet little daydream of sorts where he does just live a domestic quiet life, and he can with Reggie (well, as close as they can get between the Agency and Zoraxis always being at odds), and he loves that, and he loves him, and it's immense.

I think they cook for one another a lot, it helps Juniper work on his dexterity in a controlled environment, which means a lot because it's a huge point of insecurity (that and his scars). He does improve, and Crane is proud of that and shows it and it's great. I also think they'd probably cook together too, because they can deal with being in the kitchen together and they work well with one another. It's probably a good way for them to unwind because over time they can do it in relative silence.

As I said before, I also think music is a staple in their household, and that Reggie listens to things on vinyl almost all of the time because he likes the background noise. Sometimes Juniper will catch him chuntering along to the music which he finds endlessly endearing. I wouldn't put it past his dramatic ass to also join in to fluster Reggie, but I also don't think Reggie would mind that terribly because Juniper has listened to the music enough to know the lyrics, and that's huge to him.

I don't think they are without rough patches, no relationship is, but I think the good part about them is that they're willing to talk about it (... eventually). They're used to long conversations, and while they're often less fun conversations, they're needed and they know that, and it works out.

Alright. I think I'm done for now. I haven't mentioned everything, but this definitely got the worst of it out of my system. If you ever want to hear any specific thoughts my ask box is open but other than that, behold my general dynamic for these two which has been festering in my head for years. I think they're great

[w0efulboopsoul]

TRIGGER WARNING: (Contains mentionings of former emotional, verbal, and physical abuse, grief, loss, stalking, psychological, and physical trauma. This headcanon gives a deeper detailed dive into the former relationship of Rebecca and Eric and should give more insight into who Eric is and how he is. This headcanon dives into one of the darker sides of Eric. Be advised when reading.)

Rebecca's fate was sealed when Cindy and Randy Moore met Eric. Eric was annoyed by their attempts to thwart his plans and thus turned his attention to the pair of hunters. During this time, he stumbled upon Rebecca and Cara, two of the only remaining living nieces of the Moores and the very last generation of the Hartwrights. Devising an atrocious plan, Eric set his eyes on the youngest of the two, Rebecca Byrd. To win her trust, Eric infiltrated Rebecca's school and pretended to be her friend. Eventually, he managed to trick her into a relationship and the two started what would be the beginning of the end for the brunette.

Over time, Eric's true personality would slip out as he would verbally abuse her, taunt her, and break her down for his own amusement. From degrading her, to physically spitting on her, there was no lengths he'd go to hurt her. When Rebecca attempted to resist, Eric would then use fear and intimidation on the brunette. The relationship continued down a toxic path as he began to grow physical with Rebecca, going as far as to hit her. However, things became dangerous three nights after graduation as she attempted to leave him. The resulting conflict left her severely beaten and hospitalized, with Eric being sent to jail and leaving him angry that once again his plans had been disrupted.

For two years, after his release, Eric devoted his time to finding and stalking Rebecca. Following the brunette and her older cousin to Coldspring New York, he'd exact his revenge on Rebecca. Stalking her into the mountains one evening, he transformed into his wolf form before savagely attacking the unsuspecting brunette, leaving her to change.

Three months after their brutal encounter, Rebecca meets Eric again, accompanied by two sibling hunters who quickly irritate the Lycanborn. Annoyed by all three of their presence, Eric plays psychological games with Rebecca and reveals to her that she is nothing more than a pawn to him in his game to get to Cindy. Rebecca loses control in response and kills her newest friends, triggered by the violent games Eric had been playing.

Eric will stop at nothing to break Rebecca as she's proven to be highly entertaining to him, along with anyone who happens to join her in her little revenge mission. He mocks her and smiles at any form of suffering he inflicts on her, Gordon, and Cindy. However, his enjoyment of causing suffering doesn't land on those three. He enjoys causing suffering to anyone who gets in the way of his plans, and he is willing to play the long con to get it.

[bookishfeylin]

Black Fantasy TBR Part 1

It's taking so long to compile all my books that I might as well release my tbr one portion at a time. This isn't really that organized, but here's the first part of my fantasy (and a little bit of scifi) tbr listed out for people who are curious and/or want to see more fantasy books with Black protagonists:

The Queens of Innis Lear by Tessa Gratton

Nubia: The Awakening by Omar Epps and Clarence A. Haynes

A Song Below Water by Bethany C. Morrow

Abengoni: First Calling by Charles R. Saunders

Across the Broken Tide by Lakase Cousino

Iron Cast by Destiny Soria

That Self-Same Metal by Brittany N. Williams

Kingdom of Feathers by Deborah Grace White

Priestess of nKu by Milton J Davis

Promise of Shadows by Justina Ireland

The Summer Prince by Alaya Dawn Johnson

Queen of Zazzau by J.S. Emuakpor

Elysium by Nora Sakavic

Daughters of Jubilation by Kara Lee Corthron

Zahrah the Windseeker by Nnedi Okorafor-Mbachu

Dream Country by Ashaye Brown

The Reluctant Sacrifice by Kerr-Ann Dempster

She Steals Justice by J. Clark

Skin of the Sea by Natasha Bowen

Queen of the Conquered by Kacen Callender

The Hope of Aferi: The Wolf Queen by Cerece Rennie Murphy

A River of Royal Blood by Amanda Joy

The Blazing Star by Imani Josey

A Song of Wraiths and Ruin by Roseanne Brown

Bones to the Wind by Tatiana Obey

Treachery of Water by Angela J. Ford

Wings of Ebony by J. Elle

Beautiful Nightmare by L.C. Son

Conquest by Celeste Harte

Blood Scion by Deborah Falaye

The Killing Moon by N.K. Jemisin

Magic Dark, Magic Divine by A.J. Locke

Shadow's Dissident by Ariel Paiement

War Girls by Tochi Onyebuchi

Mirage by Somaiya Daud

A Conspiracy of Stars by Olivia A. Cole

This was mostly stand-alones and duologies, so the next part of my tbr should be mostly trilogies and longer series.

[nebuladreamz]

GAMERS!! WE'RE LIVE!!

I DIDN'T MEAN TO TAKE SO FUCKING LONG SORRY YALL U M-

[jojosgaylittleadventure]

This is the fourth fic in my Josuyaus series that takes place while they're still in high school You can find my series here I also have a master post of all my Josuyasu writing here

Summary: After a study session gone wrong, Josuke finds himself needing somewhere he can feel safe and at home and that some where turns out to be Okuyasu. Tags: Post-Canon, Pre-Relationship, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, the following tags are not from/between the ship (just an fyi), Non-Consensual Kissing, Non-Consensual Touching, Side Character/Main Character Attempted Sexual Assault, Attempted Sexual Assault, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Victim Blaming

[unwishablestars]

Hey !

Hey !

I'maving a difficult time so I'm wondering if you can write texts where Hanzo or Cass (or both) finding their close friend (no specific gender) being about to kill themself with a gun.

It's ok if the subect is too dark for you.

Thx. ❤️

Stay

Pair(s): Hanzo Shimada x GN!Reader | Cole Cassidy x GN!Reader

Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Angst

Tags: Drabble, Headcanons, Multi-Character, "Attempt"

TWs: Sewerslide Attempt, Sh!t/Hopeless Situations, Abus!ve Family (lightly mentioned), injuries (no blood mentioned; no SH scars mentioned), mentions of guns

Summary: you feel alone. miserable. hopeless. he is there to stop you.

A/N: Hi Anon! I'm so sorry this took so long and I hope it's acceptable. I really hope you're feeling better.. truly with love, unwishablestars♡

Hanzo

Hanzo has been friends with you since you were kids, both of you growing up in prestigious families.

Families that forced you to bear heavy responsibilities, high expectations, public facades and no real freedom of your own.

When your whole life had been planned out by anyone but you, you really felt like you had no one.

But you weren’t completely alone, no, not really. Hanzo always understood.

Hanzo understood how it felt to feel trapped and hopeless, like there was nothing else for you out there.

Inevitably you two became friends with a common struggle. You two stuck together, not only just because you had to but because you were there for each other.

To vent, to rant, to cry, for comfort.

Hearing the news of Genji and Hanzo you were distraught and worried.

Your friend had killed his own brother not long after his father had passed too. You were worried for him. He’s alone.

When you went to visit him, the look in his eyes was different. It was if you didn’t recognize him, and he was trying not to recognize you. To stop himself from dragging you any further in this faux and scripted life.

After a couple of years you hear about the fall of the Shimada Clan. How Hanzo had ran and disappeared.

This unintentionally caused your family to be stricter. Not wanting for their lives to fall like the Shimadas.

After Genji had met up with Hanzo, he repressed his fears and regrets and visited your home to see you, to help you.

Standing at your window, he finds you in tears, gun in your hand. He calls for your name gently, not to startle you.

Worry and regret in his eyes, he approached you slowly, and as the tears fall from both of you, he took the gun from your hands and held you close.

“I will get you out of here. I will not leave you again. I promise.”

Cassidy

Both you and Cassidy were forced to join Overwatch after being separated and captured from the Deadlock Gang

Prior to that you two were as thick as thieves(literally)

You felt alone for a while when you first joined the gang but they grew to be your family fairly quickly.

Despite being outlaws, you all seemed to have each other’s backs, no matter what.

But when the two of you were captured you were filled with a roller coaster of emotions

You hated how you were practically given no choice, you hated how they threatened to put you two in prison as if you didn’t work your asses off to try and survive out there.

Now you were forced to leave your found family to work for a bunch of stuck-ups who you believed don’t know what it’s like out there.

Both you and Cassidy were assigned to work with Blackwatch, which made you even more pissed; why did you have to be assigned with the unwelcoming team of the organization,

The team who did the dirty work with barely any recognition. Taken from your family, and forced to work with this? For the first time in so long, you felt alone again.

After a mission that ended in Cassidy losing his arm and you barely able to walk it increased the hopelessness of your life as a pawn; getting even worse as you still got scolded for who knows what.

There you were sat in your room, gun on the table, staring back at you as the tears fell. You felt so alone.. forced to be in a placed where you were barely understood, an organization that let your only family left to lose an arm. No appreciation, no recognition, no family..

Were you really about to die in a place that isn’t home? Family either injured or out of sight..?

Then the door creaked open

Cassidy looked at you with all the emotion in the world. Worry, empathy, love, care, fear, sadness, hopelessness.. everything.

He walked closer. Held you closer.

"I’m still here."

[rockingrobin69]

Tiny snippet from imperfection, sad and a little sweet.

When Draco was twenty-one years old, he went to buy new towels.

Harry had his eye set on this purple monstrosity, extremely fluffy and very soft and terribly, horribly over-priced. Draco’s allowance hadn’t come through that month (or the one before), but more important was the uncontrollable urge to give Harry everything: anything he could want, ice-lollies and royal-blue pyjamas and another jumper, why the hell not. To spoil Harry rotten, the way he was always meant to be, to surround him with so much love he’d forget for a moment he was ever without it.

Draco wasn’t new to loving someone. Not, even, to doing so obsessively, inexorably. What was new was the look in Harry’s eyes, was being able to hold his hand in public (in—most places in the city). Was the way Harry said his name, the way his courage was stupidly infectious and his heart so big it didn’t fit in his chest, kept coming out in his smiles and in his hands, warm and soft and always generously offered.

Harry was only visiting. He didn’t, technically, live in Draco’s flat, but he didn’t, technically, have to return to Glasgow for another three weeks.

They made do with the time.

And Draco insisted that Harry must have his own things: his own bathrobe, his own pyjamas, his own toothbrush (fucking—gross, Harry!) and his own towel. Bringing them here, to the shopping centre with the terrible, tacky shop with the terrible, tacky things Harry wanted that terrible, tacky Draco would give his life to get for him.

Not in a dramatic way. In a—subdued, quiet way. In an utterly devoted, hopeless way that shouldn’t have felt nice, that still did. Everything felt nice about Harry. Everything but—

No, that wasn’t Harry’s fault, not even a little. Draco being disgusting and horrible was always meant to be kept secret. And it worked, when Harry lived in Glasgow and Draco in Oxford, it worked when they didn’t spend all their time together, but summer was long and tight and close and… and… and Draco didn’t know how to do this. To bare himself without fleeing, to give what he previously thought wasn’t in him, what couldn’t have been.

(Such as: his heart. Strange, no, that it actually belonged to him, when it never felt like it before. When it was wrapped so tight in strings upon strings, tying it to—other places, other people).

And Harry gave back. Everything Draco wanted to hand him, Harry insisted to return. To hold with care all of Draco’s sharp edges. And Draco was worried that he’d keep holding, even after Draco started to crack, and end up with hands full of shards of cutting Draco, end up—hurt.

Harry held the towel very close to his body. A bit like he worried someone might try to snatch it from him. Draco hated the people who raised him (a familiar, anchoring anger) and, out of spite, took his hand.

“Hey,” soft, like the towel. Harry looked up, his smile focusing, turning un-lost.

“Hi. Sorry. Fuck, you’re cold! C’mere.” Wrapping himself around Draco (uncaring for sharp, sharp edges). “It’s a bit expensive, though. There’s another set at half the price in—”

“Harry,” Draco said, “shut up. It’s from me.”

Meaning: it’s not enough for what I want to give you, for what I wish I could. (And Draco’s sad bank statement would be a worry for another day. He could do more hours at the book shop, if Father didn’t… if he stayed in Beijing for a little bit longer).

Harry squeezed him tighter. “You’re so sweet,” he said, and when Draco scoffed, “no, really,” and when Draco scoffed louder, “you are. You’re so—shut up, you’re maybe the sweetest person I’ve ever met, and—”

“Have you? met me, I mean. There’s not a single thing about me that’s sweet.”

“Your lips are sweet,” Harry said slyly. Draco refused to blush.

“Your hand is sweet,” Harry said, and brought it to his mouth for a chaste kiss.

“Your—”

“We’re in public, you fiend,” Draco said breathlessly, when Harry did no more than kiss the inside of his palm. Harry, being a fiend, laughed.

“God. I’m so fucking into you. It’s—come here,” drawing his face up to be kissed, not letting him shy away. Kissed the tip of his nose and his cheek and his left eyebrow. “You’re amazing, you know that?”

Draco couldn’t even attempt coherency. Outmatched, overwhelmed with the constant onslaught, Harry-Harry-Harry all the time, and so warm and so sweet and so there, for a whole week now he was there, staying for the month. What… how could Draco defend against him?

So he pushed away, rolled his eyes, hid his red-red cheeks in Harry’s shoulder and didn’t cry. Didn’t even wish to. It was very bright in the shop and the centre was overcrowded and too noisy, and inside it they were huddled together, a bubble of fluffy, purple towel, and them.

It had to be enough. This month, this—whatever Harry would give him, it had to be enough. Draco would be grateful and suffice with it, and not beg for more. And not be greedy, because greed was a punishable offence and terribly gauche and Draco was better than that, was a Malfoy, was a—yes, all that.

So they bought the fucking towel. Then went home, and watched a film, and ate ramen, and sat very close to each other, sharp edges and all.

[holo-bfdi]

WARNING

Note : I am not a drama blog, but this server is a huge red flag and I don't want anyone else to have to deal what I went through.

TW for mentions of Non-Con & Incest NSFW

Do not join this server:

Avoid this server. The moderators support Rape and Incest porn.

You can message me for more info, as I did take screenshots, but if you join and get verified, it's in their "Dead Dove" channel.

They removed me after I voiced my discomfort in the romanticization of these topics, deleting my messages, and officially banned me after I said I was no longer comfortable in playing a game with the owner of the server, which I kept vague with no mention of why I was uncomfortable.

I wanted to leave a review on disboard to warn anyone else joining, but turns out you can't do that when you're banned from the server.

It turns out that in their server, praising rape and incest media is totally okay, but criticizing rape and incest media isn't. And being uncomfortable isn't allowed!

I'm not posting the screenshots publicly as I stated before that I'm not a drama blog, and don't want to start a witch-hunt. if you'd like evidence or proof in screenshot form, you can message me.

[amethyyst]

Prompt

CW: blood / wound ; panicking

Please tell me if you feel like I missed any warnings, I don't know if "panicking" will be enough, I'm hesitant to call it a panic attack for now tho (tell me if it is tho, I have no experience with any kind of panic!)

Their hands dug deep into the fabric of the heros shirt, their strong grip twisting it into different directions, as the villain screamed at the ground, tears rolling down their cheeks, eyes wide in panic.

Their arms trembled, but they couldn't tell if it was because of the exhaustion of battle, the fact that they were squeezing the shirt in their hands so hard their nails almost dug into their palms, or just the frustration of having hero laying there, barely moving.

Villain had a hard time breathing. The air barely flowed into their lungs, but when they tried to choke it out, it seemed to stick to their lungs, unwilling to let go.

They had given up two weeks ago.

For two weeks, the criminal had tried their very best to become a good person, to help the hero-who had helped them see what they had done wrong in the past- and to finally become the person they had always wanted to be.

Someone people looked up to. Someone who wasn't forgotten, who people remembered.

Someone who didn't feel alone.

But now, as they knelt over the herod body, forehead buried in the heros abdomen, screaming at the ground and praying for the ambulance to just arrive before ut was too late.

They couldn't hear anything, just their own screeching cries as they desperately tried to catch their breath, or stop crying, or actually try and help even though they had no medical knowledge and barely knew how to bandage a wound without a first-aid-kit especially when the wound in the heros stomach was this deep and oh good their hair was getting into the wound and there was blood everywhere and-

Something pulled them away gently, but to them it felt like being ripped away, swaying back and away from the hero, who was now surrounded by blurry people.

Next to their ear, a voice appeared, but the villain didn't understand even a word. There was no air in their lungs, and everything was spinning around, and then-

...it all faded to nothing.

Nothing, just a black, emotionless void.

[californiannostalgia]

jean moreau deserves to be on the sunshine court

literally no other raven would've been able to fit in