#the level of helplessness he was operating with

[hcgossips]

I hope you don’t mind me saying all of this here:

At this point, it should be clear that Cavill struggles with low self-worth and self-esteem. If he had genuine confidence and self-respect, he wouldn’t be in the situation he’s in now. In truth, he and Viscuso aren’t all that different, because both seem to wrestle with deep insecurity.

I don’t believe Cavill has ever truly been with a high-caliber woman. Then again, there aren’t many high-caliber women in the world he operates in. No amount of fame or money makes someone high-caliber; it’s about character, self-awareness, and integrity. I doubt he’d even know how to handle a woman who’s self-assured, knows what she wants, and respects herself. That kind of woman would likely intimidate him. Most of his so-called past girlfriends seem to fit the same mold as Viscuso; chasing clout, status, or financial comfort. Or all of the above.

Another pattern? They’re rarely on his level in terms of looks. Many are noticeably less attractive, which makes me wonder if he deliberately avoids women who could rival him in appearance or public attention. It’s as if he’d feel threatened by someone who could match or outshine him.

There’s just something off about the whole dynamic. Once you really see it, it’s hard to find him appealing anymore. And yet, many of his female fans still cling to a fantasy version of him. The idea that he’s some helpless victim in all of this? That’s not just delusional; it’s incredibly unattractive. He’s a grown man. If he’s stuck in a contract or trapped in something he doesn’t want, that’s on him. And continuing to align himself with someone like Viscuso only makes it worse.

👏👏👏 Bravo!

[padfootastic]

can’t help but think of how, if we choose to go by sirius’ characterisation as a private, arrogant teen who only lets a select few into his circle, sirius’ post-azkaban life just have been such an utterly humiliating experience for him.

especially OoTP. when he has all these near strangers in his childhood house, that he hated and loved and ran away from and couldn’t ever escape. if he spent his entire pre-azkaban existence building a cold and aloof persona, not letting people know what his home life had been like, then to have all of these people get a front row seat to it because of kreacher and portrait walburga’s shenanigans must have been near unbearable. to have the entire order, including snape whom he disliked and mistrusted, hear the kinds of names he’s being called.

not only does he have to deal with the retraumatisation of his childhood, but also the fact that he’s flayed open for everyone to see. it’s not only his freedom, innocence, dignity that has been snatched from him but his privacy also. it’s such a cruel thing to experience, on top of everything else.

to have literal children, his godson who he has been kept away from all this while, whom he presumably wants to be able to look up to him, to have him see into the deepest parts of his soul. to have to be so weak in front of him. not only is he subjected to such vileness but he also cannot do anything about it.

sirius has not had a moment of peace in all the time we knew him. it is indignity upon indignity that is heaped onto him. every other character has gotten a moment of respite but him. it fully breaks my heart.

[4-the-l0ve-0f-art]

"Caleb becomes a wet rat (and gets unpixelated?!)"

Chapter 7: Helpless

Pairing: Caleb x GN Reader

Word count: 1105

Genre: Reverse isekai, fluff, romance, comedy, supernatural, angst, slow burn

Rating: General Audiences

Triger Warnings: none

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The following night, once dinner had been served and dishes cleaned up, Caleb settled down by himself in a corner of the couch. After inviting him to join you in the warmth of the bedroom and Caleb refusing to budge, you gave him one last glance and retired to your room by yourself for the night.

The living room lamp left a warm and ambient glow around the room. Silence filled the air and Caleb’s thoughts started to wander off. You had left him with much to think about.

For whatever reason, the last scene you had played through came to his mind.

He had watched himself kiss the hand of a sleeping woman (MC, you had called her.. He thought.) and left to deal with the cleanup operation.

Caleb was starting to understand a bit of the premise for this game that you seemed to like playing. The main character, which you, the player was taking the role of, was a hunter “he” had grown up with. From the orphanage to his days in the DAA. Someone his other version was fixated on his entire life. Someone important.

It was a stark contrast to his own reality. The people in his life came and went. None of them were a constant, just a fleeting memory, ending on a sour note a lot of the time. The classmates who envied his genius and followed him in the hopes of getting attached to his name, the researchers that wanted a piece of his strength. The soldiers who betrayed him at the end of their lives. Even the woman who took him in got murdered.

Most of them forgotten, locked away in the back of his mind, never to witness an ounce of his attention again. Others, dead. For the better. According to him, anyway.

Caleb couldn’t wrap his head around the thoughts of wanting to protect someone to the point of obsession. There was a certain level of intimacy and understanding you would need with someone, to reach that point in your life where you would do anything to protect them. He never got to that point with anyone. The closest form of mutual understanding he had with anyone was that if he crossed them, he would be killed, and if they crossed him, they would be killed. 

The only time he felt close to someone was when he was dreaming. A one sided, yet deep understanding of the other’s emotions. And even those dreams, of someone that might or might not exist, were blurring visions. It was a ridiculously lonely situation.

Yet, there was possibly a version of him out there who had the chance to experience mutual understanding, instead of seeking one seemingly crafted by his mind. Even if it was in a story, playing out on the screen in the form of a roleplay game.

For the first time in his life, 

Caleb envied the thought of what could’ve been.

…

Caleb, to his discomfort, woke up hungry. Before, whenever this happened, he would’ve just gotten straight out of bed and whipped up something quick for himself. Now, however, the story was different. And his tiny cat paws couldn’t hold a single thing, much less a knife or chopsticks. He was stuck like this unless he somehow magically gained human hands again.

It had only been very few days since he came into this world, and he didn’t know how long he would be stuck like this before you woke up and served breakfast. Or if you woke up for breakfast at all. So, he decided to take matters into his own hands (paws).

He hopped off the couch and walked over to the kitchen area, sniffing the air. He was trying to remember where you put the cat food when the familiar scent of the food from yesterday’s dinner hit him. You had served him some kibble in a bowl, which was currently lying with the rest of the clean dishes next to the sink.

He jumped up onto the counter under the cupboard that smelled like cat food, sitting there for a moment and eyeing the cupboard to figure out his next move.

I should be able to reach it, right?

He jumped with his front paws aiming for the door handle.

As soon as the door opened, a box of cat kibble came flying out, spilling like rain everywhere.

…

You were brushing your teeth in the bathroom when you heard a loud thud and a “MREOW!” which suspiciously sounded like the cat in your living room. The speed at which you then proceeded to run out might've put even Usian Bolt at shame.

“Mmph-!” You stared at the scene in front of you with the brush still in your mouth.

Caleb was sitting on the kitchen counter, with cat kibble lying everywhere. From the counter to the floor. The cupboard on top was hanging open with the cat food box lying on the ground. And Caleb sat there, with his little paws tucked close to his body and his ears drooping low. He looked guilty as hell, not even looking at you. Just staring down, at the counter, at the evidence of the crime he just committed.

Your shoulders slouched and you shook your head. What a start to the weekend.

You went back to your bathroom and rinsed your mouth quickly, wiping your face as you walked back to the crime scene.

You looked at the cat which was now trying to push the kibble together, his paws doing an absolute amount of nothing against the food. It wasn’t even angering at that point. You just pitied him.

“You.. were you hungry? You should’ve woken me up earlier instead of trying to get this on your own, smart boy.” You said as you gathered the kibble together. He stepped back as he watched you clean.

As soon as the area surrounding him was clean, you looked at him. Surprisingly enough, he looked back at you, meeting your eyes. His ears were still drooping. 

“You could’ve gotten hurt.” You said firmly. He looked away as you kept staring.

He can’t really understand me, can he? 

..I wish he would trust me more.

You sighed as you reached out for him slowly. He didn’t flinch or move away, just staying still, looking down. Does he feel guilty?

You pet him gently. His paws shifted a bit as he leaned in towards you, head still hanging low.

For a reason you didn’t understand, your heart sank.

He looked so.. Helpless.

Like a child who was struggling to fit into his surroundings.

---

Taglist: @roseapov @mangooes @zukini-01 @browneyedgirl22 @mavix @staristoo @hohoooowhy @pirana10 @lunia-likes-pomegranet @bertieorangy @heyimseli @xxnessinessiellexx @mcdepressed290 @mentaltrouble2201 @stardustsunflowers13 @I-lover9 @destheoren @ixloom819 @super-nerder @mazlodowki @friedmagazineprincess @celestialzdiviner @deadghosy @fishwasher8 @dummiebunny @etsuniiru @wegottastayfocus @astraecho @multisstuff

A/N: You can DM me or comment if you want to be tagged in this series and it'll be done in the future parts !!

[pome-seed]

The Soldier's Keeper ★ 16

Pairing: Winter Soldier!Bucky x Doctor!Reader

Word Count: 3.0k

Summary: Settling in the city comes with good and bad. So tonight, you and Bucky spend the night trying to feel normal in your new home. But it isn't always so easy.

Warnings: Mentions of blood. Mentions of self image issues, body issues, body hair, insecurity.

Authors Note: Hi guys! Please comment and be kind. I love interacting with you guys and seeing what ya'll think!

ALSO, if you want to be apart of the taglist, let me know :)

Series Masterlist Next Chapter

The city was an entirely different world from the countryside. It was loud, and fast, and packed with bodies. The air smelled of motor oil and street food. There were street cameras and endless witnesses.

It wasn’t just the environment that was different, but the people too. 

You weren't used to being surrounded by people anymore. You’d spent months in solitude, with no one but your captors and Bucky to keep you sane. Then, you were suddenly free, but with nowhere to go, and everything to hide from. 

You felt like everywhere you looked, there was someone watching, waiting.

You couldn’t stand it. 

But then again, the crowds brought you a sense of anonymity. It was a lot harder to stand out for being different when lost in dozens of bodies. Bucky seemed to have the same worries, but he found it easier to blend in. 

With your still very limited knowledge of Romanian, you were a lot easier to pick out. So, you mostly kept your head down and followed Bucky. He did almost all of the talking, leading, and bartering. 

You felt helpless.  

In the end, he organised a shabby, ground level apartment downtown for you to stay in. When you two finally settled in, you realized it wasn’t very different from the inn. The walls were a stormy gray, compared to the bright yellow you’d grown used to. The ceiling was dotted in water stains, and the pipes ached and creaked. But it was safe. 

The first few days in the city were spent locked up in the apartment. Bucky wasn’t willing to take any risks under the circumstances of possibly having been found. But after almost a week without incident, he began to relax. 

The pair of you took your first outing to the nearby market, picking through groceries and bathroom essentials. The market gave you a small sense of normalcy. All you had to do was stroll through stands and fill your basket. It was easy, familiar, and oddly domestic.

It was moments like that that made you look at Bucky with a gentle fondness. You no longer saw the soldier you once feared, but your friend. The only man you felt truly safe with.

Slowly, you and Bucky grew used to the city. Hell, you even came to love it. There were more opportunities out there. You were even able to find work, a way to contribute, and feel like a normal member of society. You knew you wouldn’t be able to get anything grand, maybe something janitorial, or in delivery, but you would take it. You wanted to fall into the background, live unnoticed.

And for as long as you could, you would. And you would do it at Bucky’s side.

“Okay- no, no, you have to avoid the metal part.” 

“I read the instructions.”

“Well, clearly not. Just go slow-” The board buzzed. “You can't use your fingers!”

The pair of you had taken to spending your late nights playing old board games, ones you found at work at the donation center you volunteered at for pocket money. You were able to slip out a few small games here and there, but it wasn’t often they had all the pieces. 

Tonight, you were playing operation. Evidently, Bucky was awful at it. 

He grumbled, hunched over the red game, as he jabbed the tweezers into the board. The game shook with a loud buzz.

“Okay- okay, my turn.” You batted his hands away from the game and stole the small tool. “If this were a real patient, you’d have just bursted his spleen.” You snickered, watching him sit back with a huff.

“This is stupid,” he grumbled. 

“That's the point, grumpy.” You chuckled, sweeping your hair over your shoulder so you could see. You slowly plucked out the small wrench figurine, then the little bone. You made a risk and tried to pluck out the bucket, but tapped the metal. The game shook with a buzz, almost making you jump.

You smiled cheekily as you handed back the tool, now having three points to his zero. “Your turn.”

He glared at you softly and plucked the tweezers from your palm. “You’re too smug about this.”

“Well, I thought you’d beat me easily. I mean, the skilled, steady handed super soldier? How could a stupid game beat him?” You teased, reaching for your snacks. You had made a small tradition of this, a game each night before bed, with a few rare snacks. 

You indulged in a soda today.

You watched with bated breath as the man slowly, slowly, tried to tug out the rubber band in the fake body. You could swear he wasn’t breathing. His long black hair hung in his face, but you could see the focused wrinkle between his brow. He held the board steady with his metal hand as his flesh hand gripped the tweezers with white knuckles.

After a shockingly long moment, he pulled the rubber band free. He sat up quickly, oddly proud of himself. You didn’t try to hide your shocked smile. “You did it,” you laughed, almost sliding off the mattress on the floor. 

“One point for me,” he proudly snapped the small rubber band around his middle finger.

You snickered at his pride over such a small victory. “Yeah, yeah, keep trying, big winner.”

To no one's shock, he botched his victory almost immediately when he tried to get the wishbone. He tossed the tweezers at you with a huff, refusing defeat. “I’d like to see you this smug in anything other than a stupid board game.” 

You ignored him as you plucked out two more pieces. “Oh yeah? How easily can you perform muscular response tests?”

He lifted a brow. “How fast can you run?”

“How easily can you fix a hole in that hunk of arm you’ve got there?”

“How accurately can you shoot?”

You scoffed, sitting up on the mattress with a playful scowl. “That’s not fair.”

“Neither is the medical school you have under your belt for the muscle test.” He shrugged, stealing the tweezers from you. 

“You don’t even know how to cut your hair,” you clicked your tongue. “Don’t tease me.”

He lifted a brow at you. “Don’t insult my hair.”

“I wasn’t insulting. I was pointing out a fact.” You crossed your arms.

He ignored you, slowly but surely picking out the small butterfly from the game board. He dropped the little figure with a smug look on his face.

“You really need this win, don’t you?” You couldn’t help but laugh. 

“Yes.” He said flatly, not even trying to deny it.

You shook your head at him, smiling over the lip of your soda can. “I still mean what I said about your hair, by the way. You need layers.” 

He stared at you, the playful look in his eye melting away. You felt immediate regret. His gaze flickered to the game, long strands of black hair falling around his face. 

“Sorry- I didn’t mean to-”

“I don’t know what to do with it.” He admitted, his voice quiet. 

You set your soda down as you watched him, waiting for him to continue. When he didn’t, you offered a quick, “I get that.”

He glanced up at you through his dark lashes. “It hasn’t been cut since you did it.”

You slowly pushed the board game to the side, sitting a little straighter. “Okay,” you nodded. “Do you…” you chewed your cheek nervously, “want me to cut it again?”

He looked away, as if embarrassed by the offer. He didn’t say anything for a moment, and once again you were worried you made things horribly awkward. 

Usually game time was a slice of the night where you were allowed to ignore the reality you hid from, and all the darkness that followed you.

You barely caught the soft nod of his head. 

“Yeah?”

He nodded again.

“Okay,” you smiled softly, “are you free tonight?” you offered, trying to make a joke. 

His gaze flickered to you, the blue of his eyes looking dark in the dim light of the room. “I think I’m free.”

You let out a relieved breath, seeing he wasn’t as stiff anymore. “Perfect. I have an opening at my salon. Gimme a minute to set up, yeah?”

He tried not to show just how fond he was of you in that moment, but his gaze softened anyways. He nodded slowly. You sprung up from the bed and shuffled into the bathroom. While you set up a small station, he packed up the stupid board game- after trying and failing to pluck out another piece.

“I heard that!” You snickered from the bathroom.

He huffed, shoving the board game under the table.

“Okay, sir, what can I do for you today?” Your voice was tilted up in a sugary sweet customer service tone. Bucky rolled his eyes at you from where he sat on the lid of the closed toilet. 

“I don’t know.”

You tutted. “Well, this is a stylists nightmare, you know.” You fingered through his long hair, feeling the dry ends. “I could just trim the edges, if you want? Or, I could try for a full chop. Up to you.” You wanted him to feel normal in that moment, not like an object of pity. This would be the first haircut he got to choose in who knows how long. This was a choice for him, and him alone.

Which made it all the more difficult.

His silence made you pause. You released his hair and bent down slightly. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, Bucky.” you told him, your voice quiet. “You could grow it out until it touches the floor, or we could shave you bald.”

He huffed softly- something you had come to know as his laugh. “How about a trim?” 

“A trim?” You smiled. “I can absolutely do that.”

This haircut was far more comfortable than the last one. Be it because you knew each other better, or because you were no longer hostages, you didn’t know. What you were sure of, was that you felt at ease. 

You were quiet as you slowly snipped off a good two inches of hair growth. Hair fell onto the towel he held around his shoulders. He looked tired, almost lulled to sleep. You didn’t interrupt the odd moment of peace. You just continued measuring and slowly cutting locks of black hair. 

You gave him very slight layers, just to give him a little dimension- and not make him look like a block. When you got to his face framing pieces, you had to bend lower to face him. He kept his eyes on his knees.

“How do you feel about bangs?” You muttered, lining up the longest pieces to trim.

He glanced at you, lifting a brow. “Please don’t.”

You smiled softly, holding his hair over his forehead. “I think you could make the whole bob thing work,” you teased. 

“I’d rather not.” He huffed, though he sat still and let you have your fun.

You dropped the locks of hair and combed your fingers through them. “Fine,” you hummed. “But I’ll be ready to do what needs to be done, when you are.”

“I don’t think bangs are ever a need.” He told you. 

“For some people they are.” You nodded, like it was common knowledge. “You never know until you try.” You said, lining the scissors up with where you wanted to level his framing pieces.

He shook his head, chuckling softly at you. 

You clicked your tongue and pinched his chin to steady his face. “Stay still, please, unless you want those bangs.” You muttered, going back to trimming his hair. 

He watched you, studied your face and all the little details he didn’t often get to see. You didn’t realize how close you were until he let out a soft sigh and felt his breath tickle your cheek. 

You pulled back and combed through his hair again with your fingers. “I think…you’re all done.” You smiled, stepping back for him to look in the mirror. He glanced at his reflection for a moment, shook out his hair, then looked away.

You hadn’t realized how much he disliked looking at himself.

On instinct, you knelt at his feet and began sweeping up the stray strands of hair that fell when he stood. You pinched locks of dark brown and piled them in your palm. You didn’t think much of the action, until you looked up and found Bucky watching you again.

“What?” You asked, confused on what made him pause. 

Bucky’s frown didn’t escape your notice. He shook his head and knelt down beside you to help you with the hair. “Nothing,” he muttered, sweeping with his palm.

 He tried to swallow the lump that formed in his stomach, but watching you easily fall back into the conditioning you’d received from your time with Hydra, it made him sick.

You blinked, then shook it off. You’d grown used to his stares. 

Once you were done, Bucky shook off the towel over the trash and stored the barber supplies. You didn’t offer to shave his face, which you in fact did feel the urge to do. It was too intimate, too vulnerable. Plus, you personally believed that dragging a razor down his own throat gave him a special kind of autonomy. 

You never wanted to take that from him.

Besides, he didn’t often care to shave. He almost always had a nice scruff speckling his jaw. He only ever shaved when he noticed the shadow growing too dark. 

You tried not to pay too much attention to his personal upkeep, but it used to be your responsibility, so you almost couldn’t help it.

You yourself hadn’t realised just how little attention you’d paid yourself until after his haircut. You hadn’t cut your hair in almost a year, and you hadn’t shaved since before you were first taken. After Bucky had left the bathroom, you took a second to look at yourself in the mirror. 

Before all of this, you used to see yourself every day. You used to love doing your hair, your makeup, and dressing up. You used to love being pretty. 

But looking at yourself now, you barely recognised yourself. Your eyebrows were a mess. Your cheeks were sunken in. Your hair was constantly pulled back and out of your face. Your lips were pale. Your leg and under arm hair had grown out. 

Within seconds you felt sick. 

You felt foreign in your own body.

You clicked the bathroom door shut and turned on the shower. 

It took you over an hour, but you’d taken the time to bathe and scrub your skin raw. You stole Bucky’s razor and used the slippery bar of soap to help glide the blade along your legs. You nicked yourself more times than you could count, but oddly, it felt refreshing.

You shaved your under arms and the tops of your feet, then threw the razor in the trash. He could find another one. 

When you finally turned off the water, you felt raw and red and alive. You pulled the scissors back out of the cabinet and started separating your overgrown hair. 

Your slow hacking could be excused by ‘adding layers,’ but in all reality, it just felt good to snip off the random locks of wet hair. It felt good to feel control over your own body. You took off an inch or two, but you didn’t really care. 

By the time you got to your eyebrows, you regretted throwing the razor away, but you made do with the scissors. 

When you were finally finished, you stood in the center of the small bathroom and shivered at the sight of yourself. You still looked like someone you didn’t know.

 Someone different, someone changed, by all that you’d seen and been through. 

Your body was a bit more sunken in. Scars littered your raw skin, some in places you hadn’t even realized. Your legs were dotted with blood from the fresh cuts, but were by far overshadowed by pale scars speckling your flesh.

You wrapped your arms around yourself and sat, naked, on the tile floor. 

It was supposed to be a good night. 

It was supposed to feel happy. 

You were supposed to be accepting your new normal.

But at that moment, all you wanted to do was go home.

Bucky stiffened at the sight of you when you finally emerged from the bathroom. He wasn’t shocked by the sight of you in a towel as you searched for clean clothes. Rather, his gaze was drawn to the bright red sliding down the back of your calf. 

At first, he wanted to shoot up and see what had happened, but then he noticed the other dark spots of blood dotting your legs; he then connected the dots. He slumped back down against his spot on the floor, his gaze lingering on your back as you returned to the bathroom to change. 

You were a very kind person, Bucky had surmised. You were kind, and patient. Fidgety and a bit spastic. But you were honest, and open- though never truly vulnerable.

You had opened up to him enough times that he could say he knew you, he knew how you thought. But you never really let him see that raw, human nerve. 

There was a looming shadow that followed you, from the moment you met. It was like you knew something he didn’t, like you saw something he couldn’t. 

Because whatever pain you two shared, it didn’t matter. You could never understand just how much eachother lost. He could never understand just what was stolen from you, and how much it broke you.

Watching you crawl into bed that night, he realized how easy it was for you to fold in on yourself. How easy it was for you to feel weak and exposed. He realized that you were really just a woman, one that was scared and trying to pretend everything was okay. 

Sadly, you both knew it wasn’t.

A/N: Excuse any typos! Enjoy the domesticity and adjusting. I hope the pacing of their building friendship/relationship is good. I hope you guys are enjoying! MWA

@rafesgurl @pleasecallmeunhinged @jason-todd-fangirl-14 @frog-fans-unite @lonelyghosts-stuff @cherryandsugar @a-world-with-pure-imagination @unicornqueen05 @cupids-mf-arrow @sharkylalala @littlesuniee @meineguete @hawkinsavclub1983 @theconsultingdoctor10 @dollface-xoxo

[redtsundere-writes]

Chapter 16: Before Night Falls

King!SukunaRyomen x Servant!FemReader

Summary: You used to be just another servant among the army of humans operating under the command of the terrible king, Sukuna Ryomen. An ordinary human who only knows how to wash, clean and cook. Until one day, he notices something in you that you hadn't seen before.

More Info.

A/N: So... I have been rereading the fic, and it needs a lot of upgrading when it comes to correcting, so I'll take next week to edit the English version of this fic and then continue uploading of Friday, September 20th. Sorry for the inconveniences.

Beginning. | ← Previous | Next →

“My almighty king, I bow before you to beg you to let me leave the castle,” you asked between tears.

“What?” Sukuna, Uraume and Kenjaku answered in unison out of shock.

Sukuna heard you, but he didn't understand what the hell you were trying to tell him. You had dedicated a year of your life to serve him, just killed someone for him, and now you wanted to leave the castle? After he had given you everything to keep you happy and prevent this exact situation. 3 substantial meals a day, a giant room with a comfortable bed, beautiful dresses, fine jewelry, a broad education and a life safe from curses. You must be out of your mind. Besides the fact that you were about to become one of the most powerful women in the world, why did you want to leave now after all? The king had never been so offended in his life.

“I have two more sisters. Nanako and Mimiko. They are barely 11 years old and they are completely alone because Yorozu killed our mother,” you explained to the king with your face hidden between the curtains of your hair and his bleeding hands. “I just want to go home to make sure they are okay. You can ask Kenjaku, Uraume or some curse to escort me. I promise to return before the sun sets,” you whimpered for mercy once again.

That sharp pain kept sprouting from his chest. That strange pang was different from the others he had experienced before. His throat was closing, so he couldn't answer you immediately. He twisted his face in an attempt to regain control of his own body. He clenched his hand in frustration at not being able to correct himself to deny any request you had out of anger, but he couldn't. “What the hell is happening to me?” he thought, annoyed.

In the absence of an answer, you crawled to his feet in the most desperate attempt to convince him at all costs. The mere thought of your little sisters being there alone was eating you alive with helplessness. You were about to play any card you had available to try to convince him. The king was going to accept, whether he liked it or not. After all, it wasn’t going to be an easy task after challenging him in front of everyone, so you would do anything for an opportunity. Unable to hold his feet because of the dirt on his hands, you kissed them delicately to show him that you were still faithful to him. You closed your eyes so as not to think too much about the shame you were going through. You transported yourself to that passionate night you shared in order to relieve your strong repulsion.

The king's face went from an angry red to a deeper, shy red. His body tensed with each gentle kiss you gave him on the back of his head. Little pricks of love that erased his anger. No one had reached that level of voluntary idolatry before. He never thought he'd see you embarrass yourself like that in front of everyone just to fulfill a relatively reasonable request. 

“I'll kill as many as it takes to give me that chance, please. They're all I have left,” you whimpered, placing your forehead between his feet.

“Get up,” he ordered, annoyed.

You quickly complied as you wiped your tears with the back of your hand to avoid getting more blood on your face. You didn't look him in the eyes for fear that he would reject your request immediately, it was the last thing you wanted to hear, even though he had every right to do so after threatening him with an arrow that he himself had given you. Still, you couldn't allow yourself to lose the little hope you had. You didn't deserve him to do you that favor, much less to be alive, but you had to try.

"Let me see your hands," he asked you.

You gave them to him trembling for fear of what he would do to you next, expecting a clear punishment. Sukuna turned them over to see the state of your palms. They were completely split in half, blood gushing out every time you squeezed the surrounding skin, and you began to lose feeling. They were practically ruined, it would take months to return to normal. You wouldn't be surprised in the least if he cut them off for your terrible behavior. You looked away, not wanting to see what terrible thing he had planned for you.

“You are very brave to do something stupid like that,” Sukuna said before taking your hands to examine them, being as gentle as possible so as not to hurt you more.

You were going to answer, but something in your hand moved. The parallel wounds began to close slowly in front of your incredulous eyes. The skin folds joined with their equal as if by magic. In less than a minute, your hands had returned to normal. You opened and closed your fist in front of you to make sure you weren't hallucinating from the intense pain. “Since when can he do that?” you thought, confused.

“You did that?” You wondered, still in shock, upon learning that the killing machine was also capable of healing as well.

“It's a simple reverse curse technique,” ​​he explained. “It processes cursed energy, which is negative by nature, into positive energy. As a result, the energy that destroys, becomes the energy that creates and heals.”

“Wow…” You sighed, amazed. You didn't know that he was capable of healing people the same way he hurts them.

“Go change, you look terrible,” Sukuna ordered you before taking Yorozu's head from the ground, handing it to Uraume to take care of it and the rest of his body that continued to stain the grass of the courtyard while you talked.

“What about my request? I really need…” You asked, begging for permission to leave the castle.

“And you're going to go see your sisters in your underwear, with smeared makeup and bathed in their other sister's blood? You're going to traumatize them,” Sukuna interrupted to scold you. “I'm going to escort you. You have 20 minutes to be at the entrance before I change my mind.” He turned around to continue along the bridge towards the entrance.

“Yes, my king. I won’t take long.” You smiled widely.

Sukuna turned around to let you return to the castle, but stopped when he felt your arms around his waist. His body subtly melted as soon as you pressed him against your warmth. Your hands on his stomach caressed his second mouth softly, while your forehead connected with the middle of his spine. A brief gesture that calmed the pain in his chest, undid the lump in his throat, and relaxed his face finally. The king's mind short-circuited as he didn't know what to do in that situation. Take your hands, caress them, push you away so you would leave, kill you? There were many options, but none seemed to be the right one.

"Thank you, my king," you whispered before letting go.

Your hands moved away from him, and he returned to the cold he had already grown accustomed to after hundreds of years in solitude. Sukuna slowly turned his gaze towards you to see you running towards the castle again, lifting your bottom to avoid tripping over the fabric. That contagious emotion placed a small smile on his face. It seemed that everything had returned to normal.

"Uraume, you already know what to do with the body," Sukuna ordered them to leave with the head of his ex-sister-in-law. Seeing her finally dead also brought him great relief.

"Yes, my king," Uraume nodded before disappearing from his sight. Sukuna was about to continue on his way, but he saw Kenjaku smiling from ear to ear with no intention of hiding it.

"What?" He asked him, somewhat annoyed by his strange expression.

“It seems like you are going on a date,” Kenjaku told him as he followed the king towards the entrance.

“It is not a date,” Sukuna scolded him. “We will go check and return before sunset.”

“But do you really have to go? You have a lot of paperwork to do. You could have easily ordered me to accompany her,” Kenjaku argued.

“It will take twice as long if you escort her. Besides, I don’t trust you enough to let her leave the castle with you,” the king answered honestly.

After Kenjaku betrayed King Jogo to serve him, he didn’t trust him enough to leave his future queen in his hands without any means of survival. He had yet to figure out what Kenjaku wanted from him specifically, and it was certainly not anything good.

“So, you won’t take this opportunity to propose to her?” Kenjaku inquired curiously. Sukuna didn't even bother to answer him. "You two alone, in the middle of the open field, the sunset behind you... You would be a real fool if you didn't." Sukuna stopped in the middle of the road and glared at him. "I was just saying it would be a good idea." Kenjaku excused himself.

"Mind your damn business!" The king exploded, continuing on his way, not paying him any more attention.

Kenjaku stepped back, raising his arms in surrender when he saw that he had disturbed him. Sukuna growled under his breath before heading to their meeting point. Your tutor stepped back, covering his face with the sleeve of his long wardrobe, pretending to be terrified of the king to satisfy his intention. "Oh, young lady, you'll need all the luck in the world with a husband like this," he thought.

Your legs moved on their own to get to the castle as soon as possible, you entered to go to your room, but stopped when you saw a large obstacle in your way. Your eyes widened as you took in the small crowd that had formed to greet you. All the servants applauded you proudly for the brave battle you had fought against the common enemy. Your feelings were mixed at receiving such warmth for such a cold act. Mrs. Inoue appeared among the servants to tearfully embrace you.

“You scared me to death, miss!” Mrs. Inoue scolded you, pressing you against her body roughly, as if she didn't want to let you go.

A small smile of happiness for having survived your sister's attack appeared on your face before you returned the hug with the same intensity. Even though you were in mourning, you were pleased that you hadn't involved any innocents in your dealings with the king. Even though all the old people had less time to live, that didn't mean you could deprive them of enjoying them. You gently pushed Mrs. Inoue away. You couldn’t afford to waste any more time.

“I must change. The king is waiting for me,” You tried to excuse yourself, but one of the servants took your arm so you wouldn't leave.

“Then put this on,” she offered you one of Yorozu's dresses.

The fabric was smooth and stretchy, it had a large ribbon at the waist for easy closure, and best of all, it had pockets. You were seriously starting to consider starting to wear those instead of the dresses that were too formal for everyday wear. You agreed without a second thought, it would save you a lot of time. The maid called for the others to hurry up and help you. With everyone's help, they quickly dressed you, fixed your battle-messed hairstyle, and cleaned your face with a slightly wet sponge.

"Oops, I ruined your makeup." Mrs. Inoue covered her face in embarrassment.

"Don't worry, it was already ruined." You replied with a friendly smile before another maid showed you the result with a hand mirror. It wasn't ideal to have the dark circles under your eyes from the terrible night before, but since there was no time for a touch-up. "Thank you all for your support. I’ll be back soon,” you thanked them with a bow before running out to the entrance as the servants waved goodbye to you.

Sukuna sighed as he finally saw you running towards him to begin the journey. You stopped in front of your king, your breath coming in short gasps from crossing the long courtyard and the drawbridge to him. With a different dress, not a drop of makeup and without all the blood, you went from looking like a warrior queen to a decent woman in a matter of minutes. Sukuna quickly noticed your purple dark circles from not sleeping well due to worry. It was a small reminder that despite looking different from everyone else, you were still just like everyone else.

“Where are we headed?” Sukuna asked you.

“To the human commune,” you replied. “Passing the hill, there are several cabins. Just follow the paths.” You pointed towards the horizon.

Passing the scary land taken over by the curses, the large green valley that belonged to the humans began. The human commune was something that Sukuna and all the curses know exists, but it is usually an area well protected by men, a difficult area to hunt. Even though Sukuna could easily invade the area to kill them all, it didn’t suit him at all. Even though the curses follow him faithfully because of his immense power, it is also because he keeps them well-fed. If he killed the commune in one blow, the curses would look for food in other lands and probably start a war against the sorcerers without being ready yet. The commune was like his personal chicken coop, why kill the chicken when it can lay eggs?

“Let’s go there then.” Sukuna crouched down in front of you, arms back, ready to carry you.

“What are you doing?” You analyzed his stance, curious as to why he was almost leaning towards you.

“It’ll be faster if I carry you on my back,” he explained. “So get on, now,” he commanded, losing patience from the embarrassment of being in that position.

You nodded obediently. You didn’t know how you were supposed to get on his big back. You were the one who always carried the others, so you had no idea what to do when someone else had to carry you. You jumped onto his back clumsily to reach out to hug him around the neck. Sukuna stood up suddenly, leaving your feet skidding in the air. With the help of his lower back, he pulled you up a little higher to better support you by the thighs. Your cheeks flushed as you felt his thumb caress your skin.

“Hold on tight and close your eyes, we’ll be there in no time,” Sukuna smiled confidently at his great speed.

You held onto his shoulders tightly and closed your eyes, hiding your face in the back of his neck as you got drunk on his strong cologne. A shiver ran down his spine as he felt your warm breath against his exposed skin. He shook his head to focus on the road. He didn’t want to waste too much time searching for your sisters, it was preferable if they returned before dinner. He pressed your thighs tightly against his body, leaving a light mark on you, before running off to the commune.

You screamed at the sky when you felt the huge difference in speed. Sukuna laughed at your adorable reaction as he ran like a bullet without brakes between the cobblestone streets, secret alleys and the occasional roof between the abundant buildings. Your heart accelerated at the same time as the large feet of your carriage did. The fabrics of their clothes fluttered against the wind as they reached the commune as soon as possible. Sukuna jumped over the wall that separated the town from the commune and finally fell on the green grass that separated the two worlds, without the slightest concern for scaring any poor human who was around. Sukuna continued running until he reached the center of the commune.

The owner of the cabin closest to the wall panicked when he saw the king running towards the commune. He ran terrified to the control tower to ring the bells that announced the possible attack of a curse. The neighbors, hearing the frightening warning, suddenly became agitated and ran to their homes to safeguard their lives in the best way they knew how, hiding. Sukuna reached the epicenter of the commune, watching as everyone greeted him with cries for help as they fled from him like cockroaches from the light.

“We have arrived,” Sukuna announced before letting you get off his back.

You staggered against your weight due to dizziness, falling to the ground in a sit-down. You held your head to make sure you were clear about where you were. You looked at the surrounding cabins, the stunned gazes of those who were your neighbors peeking out from between the curtains. You were sure they were wondering why you had brought the king of curses himself to his safe place, but there was no time to explain anything. You had to find your sisters.

You got up again to run towards your home. “Where are they?” You wondered in panic as your legs moved as fast as they could towards the furthest cabin of all. Your father had built it for your mother when they got married, far away from everyone, because your mother hated the neighbors but loved your father, so she moved with him to his hometown. “Where are they?” You looked around, anxious, searching for your sisters in any possible place they could be. “Where are they?!” Your mind roared in search of answers, praying that your little sisters were okay. A nostalgic smile crept onto your face as you reached the entrance of your old home.

“Nanako! Mimiko!” You burst through the door, breaking it because of the worn nails.

You called out to them over and over as you inspected the cabin, your heart in your hand in worry. Where there used to be a large table for everyone to eat together, a large kitchen with cooking utensils, and an armchair to hang out on, now there wasn't even a shabby rug. It was like looking at a dark, dirty blank canvas. The humidity was breathable, cobwebs hung from the ceiling, and field rats squeaked from their hiding places in the few pieces of wooden furniture that remained.

You ran to what used to be the room you shared with your sisters. The closet was empty, the curtains were full of dust, and the bed was bare. Not even the blanket their grandmother had given them was there anymore. All there was a small white envelope. You opened it carefully so as not to accidentally tear it between the trembling of your clumsy hands. Seeing who had written the letter, a tear escaped from your eyes.

“Dear sisters,

I don’t know if you’ll ever read this, but if you do, it means we’re not here to welcome you. We hate living here, we always had, so we made the decision to leave since we didn’t have anyone else with us. I don’t know where we’ll go, but it will be far from the curses. I hope you don’t get mad at us for leaving, and we can meet again soon.

Lots of love, Nanako and Mimiko”

You held the letter to your chest as you sobbed softly, as this was the only physical reminder of your dear little sisters. They might appear strong in their words, but you knew they were surely terrified. They were facing a completely unknown world, far from the only terrible nation they knew. You knew the journey to human lands was long, but not impossible.

You weren't sure you could bear all the pain you had felt in one day. Carrying the mourning of your mother, the guilt of having murdered your own sister and the helplessness of not being able to do anything for your little sisters would lead to your end. Family was what mattered most, but all of that had been destroyed in less than a day. The house of your memories had burned completely, impregnating you with the smell of smoke for the rest of your life.

“I knew you were joking,” Sukuna mentioned behind you, examining the cabin’s filth with curiosity.

“What are you talking about?” You asked, confused, wiping away the hundredth tear of the day.

“What you said to Yorozu. ‘If I could go back to my quiet country life, I would in a heartbeat.’” Sukuna quoted what you said to your sister moments before killing her, entering the room. “Who in their right mind would trade a life of luxury for a filthy pigsty like this?”

The king scoffed at your stupidity. He walked around the room like it belonged to him completely, even though he had never slept on the hard bed, felt the cold floor with his bare feet, or eaten on the floor due to the lack of chairs. This place was so ugly that he wouldn’t even let his servants sleep there.

“It's not about the cabin, but what was in it,” you explained, fiddling with the envelope. “I was talking about my family, or at least, the one I used to have.”

The bed creaked as it supported the king's weight when he sat on it to take a little break after the tour. Being the same height now, he noticed your sad eyes and the small envelope you were holding tightly. Quickly, he deduced that your sisters had run away from home.

“I can order a search to find them,” Sukuna proposed, but you immediately rejected the offer.

“It's pointless. If they left on the day of the harvest, they must already be in some other kingdom,” you explained your hypothesis as you put the letter in one of the pockets in your dress. “It will sound selfish, but I prefer to think that they are fine than to look for them only to be told that some curse trapped them,” you said guiltily.

“Live happily in ignorance?” Sukuna asked you with disdain.

“I can’t deal with two more deaths, I just… it’s too much,” you said before cowardly leaving the room to drop the topic.

Sukuna looked at you confused, but that inexplicable feeling in his chest came back. He was starting to get frustrated, not knowing exactly what it was. He shouldn’t have heart problems when using his reverse curse technique, Kenjaku thought nothing was happening to him, and it didn’t happen regularly. That discomfort was driving him crazy, as if it were an occasional migraine.

The soft wind greeted you as soon as you stepped out into the yard. You passed the sink and the clothesline to slowly approach the small family cemetery. Your father's small grave was neglected but intact, while your mother's had the earth turned upside down after someone dug there. “They didn't bury her well” you thought, disappointed to see that your mother's corpse had been stolen, it was probably some curse to eat her as a midnight snack.

“Hi…” You greeted your father timidly. “The family split up, and I wasn't there to stop it,” you said as your lower lip trembled.

You hugged yourself to stop yourself from crying again. Your eyes were already fed up, they didn't want to regret the whole situation for the tenth time that day. Biting your lower lip hard, you tried to take your sensitivity by the horns. You were about to give up when Sukuna's hands took possession of your shoulders.

“Your parents?” Sukuna inquired when he saw what he was looking at.

“Yes.” Your throat cleared before answering. “My little sisters didn't build a coffin, so a curse must have eaten our mother,” you added, holding your breath to keep yourself out of the way.

“I don't understand why they cling so much to keeping bodies,” Sukuna said with annoyance. “They're just a nuisance.”

“Because humans are selfish,” you answered with some annoyance. Sukuna raised his eyebrow when he noticed your change of attitude. “Even though we know they're no longer with us, we want to have them close. The soul leaves, but the body is the only thing that stays with us,” you explained.

“Anyway, it's stupid. The body doesn't stay either. It ends up rotting when it could have been the food for a curse,” Sukuna argued. You sighed heavily.

This was really the last thing you needed in your time of mourning. Your sadness turned to anger in an instant. You weren't surprised at all that he acted so indifferent to the situation, but you wished he would at least shut up so you could go through your mourning in peace. You tried to keep your anger to yourself, but it didn't stop you from blurting out,

“Of course you wouldn't understand, you don't have a family.”

Silence invaded the moment. A chill ran down your spine, reminding you of who you were talking to. Your eyes widened as you realized the horrible comment that had escaped your lips. You looked up, thinking he would be looking at you with contempt, but you were met with his monotonous face. That scared you even more.

“I had a family,” he answered before walking away from you to leave you alone for a while.

That answer left you stunned in your place. Curses had been a true mystery for much of your life until Kenjaku came to explain everything you needed to know. These strange creatures are a race of spiritual beings invisible to most humans, incarnated from the cursed energy that escapes from humans over time due to their negative emotions. How can a curse have a family?

A new guilt began to torture your chest. After watching him walk away from you to climb the next hill, you decided to follow him to apologize, it was the least you could do. You apologized and gave your father a final bow of respect for the last time to reach the king.

"I'm sorry, I…" You tried to tell him when you reached him.

"I still remember the face of the one who used to be my mother." Sukuna completely interrupted you as he continued walking the path to the top. "She was a beautiful woman."

Sukuna, before waking up in the nightmare he had transformed into, remembered his past life almost perfectly. He had a mother who was ashamed of him, a violent father, and a twin brother he never met because he ate him in the womb. He had been born with the blessing of having power worthy of a god but with the curse of being a complete disgrace. An evil being that had no way to be fixed. A lonely child who became a sorcerer with black blood. A man thirsty to destroy everything that stood in his way. He may have disappointed many people, but never himself.

“I didn't know that…” You stuttered upon hearing about his sad past.

“Not even Uraume knows,” you confessed.

“Really?” You asked, stupefied.

“You're the only one who knows now,” Sukuna looked at you. “You've earned it after what you did for me today.”

“I didn't kill my sister for you. I did it for myself,” you answered honestly. Sukuna stopped in the middle of the road, shocked by the direct confession. “My sister not only betrayed me, but also the family I had left.”

“Why do you care so much about your family?” Sukuna held his forehead, exasperated by hearing you repeat that word. “Your father was weak, your mother sold you, Yorozu betrayed you and your other sisters abandoned you,” Sukuna asked you.

“Because I love them anyway.”

The king's lips parted slightly upon hearing that. There was no logic behind that answer. There was not a gram of reason. He had no legs or head, but he still managed to surprise him. How could you love such a broken family?

“That doesn't make sense,” Sukuna replied incredulously.

“Love doesn't need to make sense.”

The pain in his chest turned into a flutter of thousands of butterflies. A simple phrase made his cheeks feel hot, his hands sweaty, and he felt the need to cover his shame. A simple phrase made him feel an inexplicable hope that he didn't think he needed.

You looked up, you were almost at the top. You had climbed so high that it would be a shame to have to go down when you were so close. Since your sisters weren't there to run with you to see the sunset for one last time, maybe you could do it with someone new.

“Follow me, just this once,” you asked before taking one of Sukuna's arms.

He let himself be led by your guide to continue walking the path they still had to travel. They reached the top of the slope, where there was a large rock positioned perfectly to admire the rest of the valley and the human commune. The rainbow sunset, the small cabins, the leafy trees and the distant night worked in harmony like a beautiful piece of art. It was a simple sight but beautiful in its own splendor. They sat on the rock as if they were waiting for something. Maybe they were just wasting time until the sun set to return to the castle, as you had promised.

“My sisters and I used to come here every day. There isn’t much to do in the commune, so having this view is a small blessing,” you commented to the king as you watched the humans emerge from their huts, wondering if the threat had left. “What did you like to do when you were younger?” you asked.

“I didn’t have a good childhood,” the king answered honestly.

“But at least there must be something nice that you remember,” you answered curiously. Sukuna thought for a moment.

In fact, there was something he remembered. On the outskirts of the poor village where he used to live, there was a large forest that hid the most beautiful flowers he had ever seen. He didn’t know their names or what they meant, but he didn’t need to know to admire their delicacy. Their different bright colors, soft fragrance, and unique designs caught his attention. He caressed their petals, afraid of cutting them if he didn’t do it properly. A simple but welcoming and delicate touch brought him peace. Sometimes he came across a bee or two that brightened his view with their plump and fluffy bodies. The flowers were the only thing he didn't want to destroy in gratitude for never judging him.

"When I had access to all the books, I learned that if you arrange certain flowers with others they can have different meanings," Sukuna explained as he put his hand in his pants pocket, squeezing the box he had saved for that moment.

He hated to admit it, but Kenjaku was right. This was the perfect opportunity to propose to you. The great view of your homeland that merges with the land he leads, was a beautiful symbolism. They were completely alone, without any humans or curses lurking in their affairs. The golden hour was almost over, so it was now or never.

"You know? You remind me of daisies. They usually symbolize innocence, joy and purity, and you are all of those things," he explained as he looked at the horizon while he gathered courage to look you in the eyes after saying that with his cheeks flushed. “Sometimes they are hard to read because they come in many colors and the real meaning depends on this, but that's not important…” He was so nervous that he was starting to get off-topic. He took a deep breath to calm his nerves.

Wait, why was he so nervous? Sukuna never got nervous, he was always ready for whatever he was faced with. A battle against a powerful sorcerer? A piece of cake. Ordering his troops in complicated strategies? An everyday occurrence. Declaring war against humanity? The dream. Proposing? It made his hair stand on end. He couldn't believe he felt his heart beating at the possible response of his prospective wife. He was sure she would accept him, she had already done it once, he had to do it... Right?

“What really matters about daisies is knowing how many there are in a bouquet. If there are less than 3, it means friendship. If there are more than 6, it means pure love.” Sukuna stopped at that word.

He had read about it in endless poems, and it was a concept he knew existed, but he didn't fully understand it. He didn't know how it began or how it ended. It was complicated, unknown and could become problematic. For some reason, humans are fascinated with the wonderful idea that love knows no bounds. They lived for it, endured for it, and would even die for it. Sukuna was sure you would too, but him?

“What I mean is that I would give you all the daisies in the world.”

Your head rested on his arm, startling him a little. Finally, he worked up the courage to look at you and couldn’t believe it. You were completely asleep. Your softly closed eyes, your slow breathing, and your lack of posture were a clear sign that you had been sleeping while he was giving the corniest speech of his life. He wanted to be mad at you. He wanted to shake you awake. He wanted to throw the box with the ring in your face, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t even frown.

He covered you from the little sun that was left of the day with one hand, while the other caressed your peach fuzzy skin with all the care in the world so as not to wake you up. He was mesmerized by the way you breathed, the length of your eyelashes, your hair swinging against the soft wind, your hands resting on your lap and your lips slightly parted by gravity. You had had a long day, and you hadn't slept the night before, it was understandable that you were tired and just wanted to sleep to forget about the tragedies. Maybe this wasn't the time to propose.

The sun finally set behind the distant mountains, turning off the light completely. It was time to go home, but Sukuna wanted to stay there for the rest of his life. Chatting during the day, admiring you at night, and dreaming in his free time. Sukuna sighed as he realized why his chest had been acting so weird lately.

“Fucking hell,” he whispered, low enough to not wake you up. “You’re driving me crazy.”

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[queerfables]

'Wilson' as an episode fucking slaps. I'm obsessed with Wilson's complete lack of boundaries and I'm obsessed with the way he acts out to express resentment while still being completely incapable of saying no. He gave a patient part of his liver!! The man is in no way hinged.

For all the emphasis that gets placed on Wilson's failed marriages and infidelity, we don't ever actually see it directly on screen. This is a narrative choice I love, for the record. We see Wilson's relationships through House's eyes and it allows us to understand Wilson as a deeply flawed person without ever making him unlikable, because Wilson's flaws and contradictions are what make him irresistible to House. It's so effective, the way these failed relationships say so much about Wilson's character while being constructed largely out of inference.

In this episode, though, we watch his inability to self advocate play out in real time, and I guarantee that this is what every one of his relationship meltdowns looked like from the inside. On some deep fundamental level, James Wilson doesn't believe "I don't want to" is a valid reason not to do something. You know the fantasy trope of an obedience curse, where the victim is inescapably compelled to obey other people's requests? Wilson casts that spell on his own damn self, and he'll hold true to it even to the point of violating his own bodily autonomy. When you lack boundaries like that, it becomes almost impossible to even know what you truly want, let alone to act on it. So Wilson says yes and yes and yes until it breaks him, and then he still can't say no.

When saying yes feels like surrendering to torture and saying no feels like committing murder, the only option left is escape. So Wilson goes out drinking to trash the liver he's going to donate. He gets dinner with the pretty nurse instead of going home to his wife. All of it is him scrabbling at the bars of his cage. And the irony is that the cage is unlocked, he just has to walk through the open door, and that's the last thing he could ever bring himself to do.

I'm pretty sure that when he went to Cuddy and told her his plan to donate, he wanted her to say no. She almost did! And I think she should have, because her first impulse was right, it is insane. Unfortunately this is the Insane Lack of Boundaries Hospital, and she can't actually be expected to guess when her employee's mouth is saying yes but his eyes are saying dear god no. By the rules of universe that House MD operates within, this doesn't even break a 7 on the "unhinged measures to save a patient" scale, and Wilson invoked the power of friendship. What was she supposed to do?

And through all of this, House is the person Wilson lashes out at. I love, love, love that House is the person Wilson lashes out at. Wilson can't even admit to himself that he's angry about the position he's in. How can he be angry when he's the reason the patient needs a new liver? But House sees right to the heart of everything going on with him, and he says all the things Wilson wants to be true and can't afford to believe. Because if he lets himself believe this wasn't his fault then he might not be able to say yes. And he's going to say yes. And he hates that he's going to say yes. And he hates that House knows he's going to say yes.

So he gets angry with House, because it's safe to get angry with House. He lashes out, because with House, he can. He tells House he's wrong about him, and demands House move out, and that's not at all what he really wants but he feels helpless and coerced and he desperately needs to exercise some kind of control over his own life. The fact that he can let go like this with House is in part about knowing House isn't ever going to leave him - the closeness of their relationship is always defined by what Wilson wants, House has never once pushed Wilson away and fights to reconcile when Wilson wants distance. But it's also about knowing that he can't hurt House by setting boundaries with him. Mostly this is because House will walk right over any boundaries he considers unacceptable, but in fairness, the fact that House is kind of a terrible person is part of his appeal. If Wilson had issues around other people violating his stated wishes, House would be the last person in the world that he should have anything to do with. But Wilson's issues lie in the fear that not being compulsively available and accommodating to everyone around him might permanently fuck up the life of someone he loves. House's fucked up life is never going to be Wilson's fault and even if it was House would still kind of deserve it, so Wilson's anxious people pleasing compulsion can chill the fuck out for five minutes at a time.

I don't want to idealise, there are times in their relationship when Wilson absolutely makes fucked up sacrifices for House. I don't think it's the case that he earnestly wanted to every time. But it's also true that House brings out authenticity in Wilson that few other people manage to. House knows him. House allows him to give in to his selfish impulses without guilt and consequences, and for all the people who love the best in him, House knows and loves his worst. While Wilson is caught up in trying to bend himself into whatever shape someone else needs him to be, what House wants more than anything is the truth. For Wilson, who is so out of touch with his own desires, being an object of fascination to someone obsessed with drives and motivations must be a rush. And if we accept the throughline of this episode, it might just be the case that House's boundary pushing and obsession is something Wilson needs.

[daylighted]

the girl behind the wheel . . . dean winchester & reader !

summary. the last thing dean expected was for his car to disappear & in its place, you to be left. he also never expected to have to worry, still, about you getting stolen. warnings. men r pigs!! sequel to this ask !

it's not like you asked to be made into a human or anything. dean seemed to operate on that idea, though, that this was all your choice. he looked at you with pure grief in his eyes, and something that seemed much more akin to exasperation than the unwilling reluctance you thought he was beginning to fall into.

"i have to get a new car." he's openly, dramatically, pouting.

you shrug. his jacket has now become your jacket, because shoplifting clothes for you meant snatching the cheap shit in the back of the store that people wouldn't realize were missing until it was too late, which left you in summery clothes in the dead of winter.

"that's all you have to say for yourself?"

dean is looking at you with that quizzical stare he gets, like he expects you to have some sort of answer for why you were like this. you didn't know. you just got here.

"steal one." you look around the parking lot of the little strip mall he'd taxi'ed you both to, and nod toward a big black truck towering above the other cars. "that one."

dean follows the direction of your finger and snorts. "no way in hell. that guy's gonna notice immediately that that thing is missing."

just like how dean noticed that you were missing, when the tides shifted or the moon phased at a certain time, and suddenly you were a girl by a light pole and not a car parked under the streetlight. that was understandable.

dean runs a hand over his face, turning his back to you again in that way that didn't fully seem to indict you, but it didn't really make you feel like an innocent party in this.

you could help. of course you could help. dean wanted a car, that car was the scariest in the area, he couldn't take that one with force, so...

the front windshield has "DEER HUNTIN" sprawled into the glass in an ugly, abrasive font. dean was a hunter. he wore lots of layers, even when he'd be driving in the dead of summer. you just needed to find a guy in lots of layers.

so you disappear, ducking into one of the little businesses in the mall with hunting & fishing goods on the big sign out front. everyone in there sort of looks the same, the whole place smells a little like oil and a lot like dirt and hay, and you think that you've made a poor judgement call until you find him.

big guy, as big as the truck in the parking lot. camouflage hat and jacket. dirt all over his jeans. a t-shirt beneath the jacket that says i like my girls like i like my bucks: big and horny. he's your guy. he's so your guy.

"hi, sir," you say, trying to puff out your chest in that way that dean hates but makes you feel a little bit taller and on his level. the guy looks over at you in a way that dean also does, sometimes, but he's much more obvious about it than dean is. "is that yours?"

you point to the truck in the parking lot.

the guy puffs his chest up, too, and now you really don't know why dean hates it, when it just seems to be a dude thing. "it sure is, pretty thing," he drawls, putting the box of ammo back on the shelf, "you want a ride in it?"

"no thank you." you hold out your hand instead. "can i have the keys?"

he laughs. your face visibly falls, and he laughs a little harder. "won't go for a ride with me but expects me to fork over my keys. i'll be damned. what's your name?"

"baby."

"baby," he doesn't say it like dean does, with awe and reverence and sentiment. he says it like it tastes filthy in his mouth. "tell you what. go on a little ride with me, and i'll let you take it for a spin."

"no thank you." how many times did a girl have to tell a man no? seriously. "i just want the keys."

the door to the shop dings, the echo of the bell ricocheting around the spacious area. "baby?" dean's voice. you are so helpless to the way that you light up at the sound of it. "baby, you better—"

he cuts himself off, his eyes landing directly on you. you can always tell when dean's looking at you. there's something physical and innate in the way his gaze rests like its own sort of blanket over your skin.

the guy behind you nods toward dean. "that your boyfriend?"

"no. that's my driver."

you could not possibly be more clear, but the guy's face twists up. "so why the hell do you need my keys?"

dean is at your side now, a hand on your hip and a grimace on his face. he tends to wear that look a lot around you, now, even though you still catch glimpses of the fondness when he thinks you're not looking.

"she doesn't." dean pulls you a little more into his side, and you grin. he's always so warm. "sorry 'bout that."

"keep your girl leashed, alright?" the guy scoffs, turning back to the shelves full of ammo boxes. "she's tryin' to get into trouble she can't handle."

you could handle a lot of things. you'd been crashed a few times. you'd been long overdue of an oil change. you were pretty sure that dean was conceived in you, which was an entirely other sort of thing you didn't even want to think about. were doing pretty well without thinking on it, thank you. you could handle things, and it wasn't fair that this stranger thought he knew you based on one interaction that you were certain was going just fine.

dean seems to sense that you're about to dig a deeper hole for yourself, and so he starts to tug you away. "yeah, yeah, she's leashed," dean grumbles, his teeth gritted together. he doesn't like the guy either, it seems.

you barely take a step away before dean's turning to you again with that look of unadulterated exasperation. again. "what the hell was all that?"

"you said we couldn't steal it because he'd know." like, did dean just... forget that conversation in a two minute span, or what? "so i went to ask him for the keys."

dean's lips flatten. he's really, seriously trying to keep the blank expression but the twitch of his dimples gives away his amusement. "no."

"yes." you reach into dean's jacket pocket over your shoulders and hold out the keys. "got them, too."

"he gave them over?"

you smile. and that's how you know that dean was yours and you were his, and that even if he was getting premature gray hairs from you, he still adored you. "no. i was just letting him know i was taking it. i wasn't really asking."

dean laughs this time. well and truly laughs, holding the shop's door open for you. "you are somethin' else."

"i'm helping," you correct, looking down at the key fob in your fingers. you press the unlock button, but the truck's headlights don't light up. it sits as idle as ever.

the car next to it, a model close to yours but not quite as well taken care of, beeps in acknowledgement.

you pass the keys over to dean, practically skipping toward the impala in utter glee. the cards always worked in your favor, didn't they? you'd been with the winchesters for three generations, passed down like an heirloom, but this was the one that loved you the most, and now you could finally show it.

"scratch that, baby," dean says as he catches up to you, catching you around the waist to drag you in for a kiss on the temple, "you're a goddamn godsent."

yes. you definitely were.

notes. forgot i wrote the first part to this, and then this came into my head, and it made me giggle so i had to write it. pls enjoy

tags. @titsout4jackles @deansbeer @honeyryewhiskey @ultravi0lence14 @figthoughts @theosaurous @stereotypicalbarbie @whyyouegg @eepwtf @rositaslabyrinth @rubyvhs @aileenunfiltered @abox-of-rocks @sunsbaby @bluemerakis @jollyhunter @misatxox @sunsettsam @angelblqde @bombarda-babe @unfortunate-brat @funkycoloured @chevroletdean @chiierful @cowboysandcigarettes @voidsuites @bitchykittenconnoisseur @beausling @soldiersgirl @dulcescorderitas @hyacinnths @couturewinx @blushpinkdoll @mccartneyqp @svbnra

[talonabraxas]

Kali ॐ Talon Abraxas

Tantric Astrology ♄

There are several ways of understanding the planets in our charts such as palmistry, tarot, the Qabbalistic tree of life, etc. All of these systems are excellent but I wanted to introduce you all to a more physical and systematic method of astrology that uses yantras, the bodily processes, and the very primordial teachings of the tantras that can help you get better at astrology and find patterns and associations in the mundane life.

Tantric astrology is the esoteric and hidden branch of astrology practiced within a small number of lineages in the South of India specifically Sri Kula and Kali Kula (the lineages that worship the Goddesses Lalita Tripurasundari and Maha Kali). Although, the presiding deity and ruler of Tantric astrology is Maa Kali and it is through her blessing we can begin our journey into learning more about this mind-blowing astrological technique. Even with the basics, you will be able to correct a lot of your karmas and remediate afflictions in your chart.

Lord Shiva is the vessel through which Shakti flows which is why he is known as Shaktimaan because he's the boundary in which Shakti revels and enjoys her play which also makes Shiva the passive enjoyer and observer of the play. The Goddess Kali represents the primordial soup, the nakedness and ink-black darkness of the universe that pre-existed Shiva as Para-Shakti, and then through him as a medium, she came into becoming, traversing and permeating the cosmos. She wears the 52 letters of Sanskrit around her neck as they represent different facets of herself (Fun fact: there is not a single sound discovered outside the Sanskrit alphabet.) Maa Kali becomes an important aspect of tantric astrology due to her natural ability to control the 8th house of occult and the hidden aspects of life.

ॐ ह्रौं काली महाकाली किलिकिले फट् स्वाहा॥

In Shakta tradition, it is believed that the cosmos came into being through the will/desire (iccha) of the Goddess to learn more about herself (jnana/knowledge) and so she created the complex universe and all of its beings, objects, and abstract concepts (kriya/action) to discover herself and her highest potential which is why kindness, love, and empathy towards all beings is core to all religions because it is a recognition of the divine in everything.

All of these three forms of Shakti exist within us and are operating at different levels. If you're giving exams, the truth of your knowledge is being tested (Jupiter-Saturn combination). If you're clocking into your job, you're doing your duty and following the dharma (Sun-Saturn combination).

Here's a brief explanation of the triangle and what the 3 main planets represent:

Planets that have a concentration of the Shaktis:

Saturn -Iccha: In the Mahavidya system, Maa Kali is represented by the planet Saturn as she is the Shakti of Time (Kala meaning time) and time is the only thing that cannot be controlled by anything. Time is also the ever-present, the permanent thing that brings so many life changes hence it is related to the Will or Desire to be or do anything. A healthy Saturn is not helpless and does not feel constrained by its responsibilities. A badly functioning Saturn often has a hard time controlling its desires, is egotistical, and can resist law and traditions which can make it difficult for the native to achieve their desires. To strengthen your Will, you can chant the root chakra Beeja mantra 'Lam' every day at least 1000 times per sitting.

Lagna/Ascendant -Jnana: The Goddess Bhairavi is the concentration of the highest levels of knowledge which is why in Tantra, a female adept is known as Bhairavi (she who is awe/terror-inspiring) for she, just like a newborn is pure but can alchemize the world around Her. The ascendant holds all of our potential and happiness for it is the current karma/action we will take which is why it becomes so important to be knowledgeable to make the best decisions in life. Jnana becomes useful when it is applied appropriately and correctly. An unafflicted ascendant gives purpose, happiness, health, and the motivation to achieve goals but an afflicted one often makes a person a little directionless and they find it hard to manifest their desires into reality which relates to:

Sun -Kriya: Kriya means completed action, it is the fulfillment of Iccha and the use of Jnana to reach a particular goal. In the Mahavidya system, the Goddess Matangi rules over the Sun due to her being Vaikhari Vak Shakti (The speech that has already been uttered.) Sun represents Kriya due to his ability to continuously create and be it is when the reality in his mind is projected outwards appropriately and without flaws. This is why it is said that God created us perfectly as we are. A healthy Sun dispels all ignorance, it is creative and gives self-esteem, and the ability to go achieve your desires and follow your will (hence it is exalted in Aries which is the natural ascendant). A weak Sun has low self-esteem, difficulty standing ground, and gives in easily to other people's will. To strengthen the Lagna and Sun, practices such as Surya Namaskar, Linga-Mudra, Bhastrika Pranayama, etc. work very well. These practices also increase the fire element in the body which gives us a natural glow (ojas).

The world is ever-changing based on the will of the great Goddess so nothing is permanent. Similarly, in Tantra, the belief is that our body is a microcosm of the great cosmos with the many Nadis and chakras that work tirelessly to make it work in the best way so it can achieve its goal and the final purpose. Tantric astrology remedies involve everything from fire rituals to yoga techniques to clear the Nadis and ensure a proper flow of energy in the chakras so that they can assist your path to liberation. Remediating the Iccha-Jnana-Kriya triangle is enough to fix a lot of the other planets in your chart because they're the very foundation of everything. Sun is Shiva, Saturn is Kali and the knowledge and creative force that exists between them is the ascendant for it is the truth of our lives.

As the water of the ocean is now calm and next agitated into waves, so are Brahman and Maya. The ocean in the tranquil state is Brahman, and in the turbulent state, Maya.

-Ramakrishna Paramahamsa

[thebirdfantasy]

The Holiday House - Ch8

Thank you very much @thundergirl007 for the help with reading this and providing me with suggestions! Seriously, it was helpful!! Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7

"Alan! The winch broke!"

"The what!?"

"The winch broke!" John watches as a helpless holographic figure falls from the sky.

"What the hell do you mean the winch broke!? Our winches don't break!"

"Thunderbird One hasn't been maintained in weeks! We should have seen this coming." Two seconds ago, the rescuee was perfectly secured in a harness, being raised into the 'Bird just as it sped off from an exploding radio tower in the alpine mountains.

"I'm gonna try to grab him with the net." Alan sets the 'Bird to vertical dive, target locked at the flailing victim until-

"-Except that there is no net: It hasn't been reinstalled, it's back at the hangars for maintenance."

“Damn it!” Alan rushes out of the cockpit and to the hull, dunking his helmet over his shoulders. “Well, I’m open for ideas!” Echoes of locker doors slamming travels through the rocket-plane until Alan finds the one with magnetic grapple packs stocked in silver gauntlets. Without hesitation, he dons the gauntlets before rushing to the top hatch of Thunderbird One.

“This is gonna sound absolutely insane, but you’ll have to trust me.” John throws his hands to the side, setting up commands with a persevering look in his eyes. “I need you to jump for it. I’ll remote pilot Thunderbird One to catch you, as long as you just catch him.”

Unbeknownst to John, Alan had already jumped out the second the word “trust” had been mentioned. He launched up into the skies with immense speed until finally reaching a velocity of zero — His arms sway into the motion, outstretched and loose. He sighs at the breathtaking view of the golden-red horizon that collides with the glowing pink clouds. Migrating dots flutter among the distance beyond yonder, flapping their wings as they set course for the sun. A quiet stillness, envelopes the atmosphere — before beginning his accelerating freefall decent. “How high?”

Time moves fast. The sky screams past. Alan determinedly sets himself headfirst, arms firmly pinned to his sides with the intent of hastening his fall. His eyes firmly lock onto the flailing figure before him who screams in panic. Within due time, the blueness of the ocean glimmering orange with sunshine beneath them makes itself known.

From far up above, Thunderbird One hums a flaring change in its engine. The rocket-plane darts further down — faster than the rescue operative's terminal velocity — until its hull finally meets at eye level with the rocket boy who smirks at the metal face of the hull, he readies the silver gauntlets for their first shot with a steady click and aims his aims for the hatch.

"I've matched Thunderbird One to your descent speed, Alan." John claims.

"Good." Alan shoots. The line fires, slicing through the wind until it connects to the hull with a clang. He hooks his end of the line to his scarlet harness and starts the automatic reeling; it whips him through until his gecko gloves and boots cling to the silver of the outer hull. "I'm connected. Increase acceleration." He orders.

The rocket-plane declines in angle and Alan surfs its hull fearlessly, his sight sets downwards on the flailing victim once more. He prepares another grapple pack from his brother's silver gauntlets and trains the line of fire towards the rescuee.

As soon as the said rescuee is within range, Alan fires. It whips through the thrashing air, accelerating until it reaches the IR issued harness that has been wrapped around the victim from the hours previously.

"Bullseye!"

John takes the exclamation as a signal, he begins to boot the horizontal thrusters. At the feel of this, Alan jumps once again. He twists at the taut rope between him and the rescuee, forcing himself to cut through the sky and reach the other faster, the shape of the victim grows larger as their distance shortens.

Suddenly, Alan is grabbing the man mid-air, redirecting both of their falls into a controlled spin. With a strained yell, Alan hits the remote winch on his silver gauntlets, that of which reels him and the rescuee back towards the turning hull of Thunderbird One with a sharp force. They slam together onto the hull and tumble through the hatch — which had been opened by John whose perfect timing Alan must compliment for later — and into the cargo bay.

The rescuee lands hard on top of Alan, practically crushing him. However, adrenaline takes over the young Tracy who scrambles to force his shoulders over his knees and sprint into the cockpit, his eyes widen at the altitude level on the monitor. "Thunderbird Five! Ascend faster!"

From the space station, John grits his teeth and twists his wrists further inward. "There's not enough thrust to pull up!"

"Fire the landing thrusters!"

"FAB!"

The landing thrusters provide just enough force to push the red nose upwards. With a bellowing roar, Thunderbird One yanks itself into level flight just as ocean spray kisses the underside of the hull.

Alan lets out a breath of relief, he falls loosely back into the red chair. "Thanks, John." He sighs.

"It wasn't easy." The spaceman replies. "How's our rescuee holding up? The nearest hospital should take five minutes; I can set her on autopilot and let you rest."

At the simplicity of the suggestion, Alan shifts in the pilot seat to sit up straighter. "Won't be necessary." He reassures. "I can take her."

"You sure? That was quite the save."

"I'm serious, John." His quivering hands settle over the controls like second nature, a motion that he's practiced several times in simulation rigs for the past many years. "I have the energy to do it. Promise!"

"That's not energy, it's called adrenaline, Alan." John would facepalm if it weren't for the fact that his eyes keep straying towards the silver gauntlets making themselves known on his baby brother's forearms. "Alright, but you're not allowed on missions until you get at least two hours' worth of rest, understood?"

Alan cranks the horizontal thrusters. "FAB." Then radios in to the cargo bay: "Hey, how you doing back there?"

There's a short groan of a response, a slurring collection of words akin to "I'm okay", as far as Alan can make it out to be.

"Hang in there, gonna get you to hospital."

And the rocket plane fires into the distance.

Chapter 9: "What the hell?" Scott squints at what he can only assume are tiny ripples in the water.

Since this fic is set post Season3, I decided to try make some new parallels between Alan’s character and Scott’s.

I wanted to use Scott’s grapple pack gauntlets as symbolism to show a form of resemblance between Alan and Scott, which is why i repeatedly mentioning them being silver.

That and also the mission itself is pretty Scott-like… Alan didn’t even have a jetpack, let alone a parachute and he just… went for it.

[merakiui]

RAHHH WAIT WHILE WE R ON THE TOPICS OF PERIOD SEX. CAN WE TAKE A MOMENT TO TALK ABOUT WHICH GENSHIN GUYS WOULD EAT OUT/FUCK DURING A PERIOD?

AAAAAAA OMG YES........ under the cut because I rambled a lot. ;;;;

The most obvious one who would do it in a heartbeat is Childe. He loves the sight and smell of blood, and the fact that it's coming from between your legs is even better. He'll have you crying out while he spends so much time between your legs, all too eager to taste you and listen to you fall apart on his tongue and fingers. He'll fuck you while you're on your period as well. He loves the way your blood stains his dick when he's thrusting in and out. Playfully cooing at you when you beg him to ease up because it's too much: "Aww, can't handle it? That's too bad... down here seems just fine. You're taking it like it's nothing." <3

This is my own personal bias seeping through, but I wholeheartedly believe Scaramouche/Wanderer would adore period sex. I think Scara enjoys fucking you while you're on your period, whereas Wanderer enjoys eating you out just a bit more. There's this whole power/control thing Scara wants to have over you, so he's probably not getting on his knees for you anytime soon. But he will fuck you for as long as he wants, teasing you the entire time. Having your blood on him is all too exciting. As for Wanderer, he'll pretend like it's a tall order, playfully scoffing at you and saying something like, "What would you do without me? You'd be helpless, wouldn't you?" But if you even suggest that someone else do this for you, he's quickly putting that smart mouth of his to work. Try saying that again through all of your moans. :)

ALBEDO OMG........ it's all for "scientific research" because he's curious and would like to know how the human body operates in more detail. Really, this is his own nerdy cover. He just wants to taste you and feel you, blood and all. orz of course he probably collects samples because there's this clinical side to him that wants to know you down to the alchemical level. ;;;;; he spends way too much time stuffing his fingers inside you and stretching you open, curiously observing the blood that coats his digits and making note of all of your reactions.

Razor....... this one is also obvious. He smells blood and assumes you're hurt, so his first instinct is to either patch you up or lick it better. The latter comes into use when he pins you down and spreads your legs to get a closer look at your pussy. Razor's a bit inexperienced and sloppy, roughly gripping onto your thighs, but he means well. He has to keep his mate safe and content, after all!

Xiao........ XIAO!!!!!!!! He's so determined to protect you. He's very accustomed with the scent of blood, so it doesn't take long for him to smell it on your person. Xiao's a little stern when he tells you to stop moving so he can check you for injuries, but he's sincere. Why do you seem so casual? Aren't you hurt????? He cannot fathom the concept of a period because he's never known about such a thing. He's about as virgin as they come. ^^;;;; but he'll do anything to ensure you're happy, forever and always, and so even though he may not know what he's doing at first he'll eventually fall into the rhythm. Karmic debt is cold and cruel, but pussy is warm and soft. <3

I feel like Kazuha would be into it........ he's so sweet about it, too. T^T maybe you're embarrassed to have leaked on the sheets while sleeping beside him, but he assures you it's fine. Things happen. Besides, there's nothing to be ashamed of. It's normal. He'll make you feel so much better about it, and soon you're falling apart on his fingers or mouth. He praises you all throughout it.

Gorou!!!!! This is also a Razor situation. He probably prefers eating you out more than he does fucking you, but the latter is also quite good. He's really such a sweetheart and he gets pussy-drunk SO FAST. OTL even more so when you're on your period.......

Itto!!! >:D truthfully, what won't Itto do? He'll do just about anything for his pal, best bud, partner, lover (you're all of these things to him hehe). He adores you omg. You only need to tell him that it hurts and he's ready to provide, whether that be by eating you out until your cramps are soothed or by fucking into you (he'll be slow and gentle; he promises!). Anything for you. <3

This may be unexpected (or not) but Ayato. I think he just likes the idea of staining those pristine clothes of his in your red. Or ruining white sheets...... there's something very thrilling about it. Also, you're just so sensitive whenever you're on your period and your libido has you begging him for even more.

Definitely Tighnari. He could just mix up something to help soothe your cramps, but why would he do that when he could indulge instead? Besides, this method works very well and you seem to enjoy it just as much as he does. Why would he ever trade that?

Cyno......... I can't explain it, but I feel like he would enjoy period sex... there's something so addictive about sinking into your wet warmth and getting blood on his cock while you dig your nails into his shoulders and rake his back bloody. >:D

Baizhu. Something something doctor's orders!!! Prescription to soothe cramps is not a calming herbal tea but the doctor working you open on his fingers or fucking into you sweetly and slowly!!!!!

Omg,,, speaking of doctors, how could I forget the man himself!!!! Dottore is a creature. He loves period sex. Perhaps some of his clones love it more than others. It's easy to tell depending on who's fucking you or eating you out. He has this deranged sort of smile as he watches you come undone.

PANTALONE.......... I just know he loves getting your blood all over his face and fingers and on his clothes. He's a big fan of simply cockwarming you while you're on your period and only getting you to orgasm by clitoral stimulation. AAAAAAA OTL

Wriothesley can and will spend his entire afternoon between your legs. He doesn't mind the mess. It doesn't bother him. Rather, he's busying himself working you towards your nth orgasm for the day. If you come to Wrio with a problem, you better be ready for him to solve it. He'll make sure you won't be feeling any cramps for the rest of the day after he's done with you.

Another personal bias, but I like to imagine Lyney also enjoys period sex. Maybe even Freminet, but he's too shy to ask you if you'd be okay with it...... >_< AAAA but Lyney!!!!! He reminds me of this audio. T_T Lyney sniffing out your period........ you seem to have cramps and that's no good. Allow him to ease them and this time there's no magic required hehe.

Another bias, but my beloved Gaming!!!!!! I think period sex with him is always a sweet activity. He's so gentle and caring,,,, so focused on making sure you feel good and that you'll have enough orgasms to get rid of the cramps. And of course he has plenty of snacks on standby for when you want to snack during breaks. Leave it all to him! You won't have to lift a finger. Just lie back against the cushions and let him make you feel good.

OH OH!!!! Capitano.......... I've seen some portray him with a long monster tongue and methinks that is very delicious and so true!!!!! Capitano using that long tongue of his to eat you out, and it can reach places that your fingers just can't and and and AAAAAAAA!!!!!

[homelanderbutbig]

Your Heart Beats For Him (G/T Homelander x Reader)

2332 words. Hurt/comfort, and a bit of angst. Homelander is 8 feet tall. Reader is non-descriptive. Established relationship.

Homelander doesn't know how to handle you getting hurt. Inspired by an ask from @chocolate-floof.

It all happened so fast. One moment Homelander was irritatedly pacing endless circles in the Seven's meeting room, waiting for you return his calls. You were supposed to be on your way to Vought Tower, but you were late. He expected you would tell him where you were. You always call him back when he phones, and yet you had all but disappeared from his radar. Not a word or trace of you, every minute with no response fueled his growing anger. His ego began to rip chunks out of its own flesh, torn apart by his unrestrained suspicions. You were leaving him, you had to be. You probably packed up all your belongings are were on your way to another state by now. Why else would you refuse to speak to him? You know how he is, you must be doing this on purpose. You were sending him a message. You must be upset at him, you must hate him.

But in the next moment, his assumptions were swiftly shattered when Ashley ran into the meeting room to inform him that you had been in a car accident.

What happened next is all a blur in his mind; he doesn't remember leaving the Tower. He doesn't even recall himself rocketing into the air to fly to the hospital. But he did, as currently everyone in the building scurries at the sight of this eight foot tall superhero barely managing to fit himself in the corridors. He is moving like a frantic bloodhound, desperately attempting to find you. However, once he's finally located you, he's refused entry into the operating room by a single nurse.

Homelander attempts to maintain an outer façade of nonchalance, despite having just plowed through the hospital doors minutes ago. He can see you in there with his X-ray vision, surrounded by doctors as they cut you open. The nurse's words barely register in his ears as she explains your condition, that the impact of the crash created a tear in your rotator cuff and you are being surgically treated by the best doctors in the city. He can sense her fear as he towers menacingly over her, having to bend over to avoid breaking through the ceiling. She is so miniscule to him, so pathetic. Like an ant beneath his feet. He wants to intimidate her further, force her to apologize for stopping him, maybe even laser her worthless mudperson head clean off. Regardless of his homicidal urges, he swallows his pride, acquiesces to her request and silently backs away.

Sitting down on the floor, he rests his arms on his bent-up knees and mindlessly fiddles with his fingers. He hasn't felt this level of helplessness his whole life. He is the Homelander, the strongest man in the world. There isn't anything anybody can do to stop him from getting what he wants. He has no vulnerabilities to break through his skin, no limitations to what his powers can achieve. Nothing can hurt him.

Except, now he has one weakness… it's you.

You are the only person whom he truly cares about, the only one who's ever loved him for his true self. Yet he was not there to save you, so your life is now entrusted to complete strangers. Meanwhile, he is forced to stand down like a useless mutt waiting for its master to release it. And even worse, he allows it. He can't save you from your injuries, logically he knows that. This isn't a situation that can be solved with his powers, as mighty as they may be. He has to put his faith into the hands of doctors… human doctors.

His anxiety begins to suffocate him as the world around him begins closing in. The sounds of scalpels slicing through body tissue, the sterile smell of the hospital, and the sight of doctors in white lab coats… it all invokes painful memories of his childhood in the lab. He was running on pure adrenaline when he barged into the hospital, so this traumatic association hadn't quite hit him yet. But it is now.

His eyes shut tight as he fights back tears, biting on his gloved index finger as he does his damndest to cast his nightmares aside. Flashbacks hit him in unrelenting waves, of the scared little boy in the 'Bad Room' crying out for someone to save him. Nobody ever did, nor did they give him any sort of care. That little boy was all alone, just like Homelander is currently.

He wishes you were here next to him right now, you'd know what to do. You always know just what to do to calm him down, to bring him back when he dissociates. Yet thankfully, a little voice in his head reminds him that you are here. Using his super hearing he easily pinpoints your heartbeat, still strong despite your condition.

You've soothed him so often by putting his head to your chest, letting him listen to your steady pulse while you guide him through some deep breaths. You've always told him that no matter where you are, if he hears your heart beat, then your heart beats for him.

Gradually, he feels his agitation drain as he fixates on the sounds of you, the sole thing on earth keeping him grounded. The agonizing experiences of his youth dematerialize from his psyche, replaced by the cherished memories he's gained since you've come into his life. Everything about you overtakes his senses, from the way you laugh to the way your skin feels when you caress his face.

As he relaxes, the cacophony of the hospital fades away. His mind is enveloped by his pleasant recollections of you, completely blocking out his otherwise highly-tuned senses. In fact, he doesn't even hear the nurse walking towards him, with an update on the status of your surgery.

~~~

Everything is still very hazy when you start to wake up. The last thing you can recall is driving on your way to Vought Tower, and then the rest is all just vague colours and sounds.

Your eyes slowly adjust to your surroundings. You realize that you're in Homelander's penthouse, snuggled comfortably in the silk sheets of his massive bed. You notice your right arm is in a shoulder sling, but not a normal one; there's a pillow attached to your waist, holding your arm out and away from your body. You start to piece together that something serious must have occurred.

Suddenly, you hear the all-too-familiar sounds of loud footsteps hurriedly approaching, followed by the immense stature of a supe in blue looming above. It takes a moment for your blurry vision to refocus, but you soon see your oversized boyfriend's face staring down at you. His expression is contorted with conflicting emotions, swaying from relief to what you assume is a mix of anger and anxiety.

"Hey you," you utter, your voice a bit hoarse. You still feel a little loopy from the painkillers you've been put on, but you're coming to pretty fast considering.

"Hey you? …Really? T-that's all you have to say?" he scoffs, eyes twitching from distress. He's in disbelief at how casual you sound about this whole situation.

"Sorry… still a little out of it," you smile groggily. "What… happened?"

"You were in a car accident," he retorts sharply, keeping his arms crossed behind his back as if he's scolding a teammate. "You required surgery."

"Oh," you say, the only word that comes to mind as you process everything. Which, of course, is not the answer Homelander was hoping for.

"Oh? That's it?! I-I can't believe how you aren't taking this seriously!" he exclaims in a huff, finally throwing his hands up into the air out of pure frustration. "You could have died! I should be the one taking you everywhere, you can't go out by yourself. There are too many… m-many villains out there who could hurt you!"

"But I'm not dead sweetie," you remark. "It was an accident, nobody did this on purpose. These things happen."

"No! Y-you don't understand! I-I need to keep you safe!!" he lashes out, pointing aggressively at you as he becomes overwhelmed. The heat is building in his eyes; he's never yelled at you out of anger before, never. But right now his thoughts are spiralling out of control from the stress of these recent events. In his mind he's already decided how this will be handled. You are weak, you are fragile, and he must protect you. From now on, you will not go anywhere without him by your side. He needs you to be subservient to his wishes. He needs to make you concede, to bend to his will, whether you want to or not. He will never come this close to losing you again.

And yet, as always, you must be the force of reason.

"John," you state bluntly, silencing him on the spot. One word has left him motionless, staring down at his shoes as the fire within him smolders away leaving nothing but a husk. The crimson red of his eyes is replaced by glistening tears dripping down his cheeks, reflecting back the melancholy of his blue irises. His arms are back down at his sides, clenched into fists so tight that he might rip through the leather of his gloves.

Hearing you say his birth name cuts through him like a knife, leaving him feeling vulnerable, exposed… human. You know he doesn't like being called 'John', but in moments like this you need to talk directly to his inner child, to the part of himself that he's scared to let out.

"John, it's okay baby. Come here," you coax him, gently patting on the side of your bed with your good arm. Although he's hesitant to give in, you know he's pretty much incapable of disobeying your orders, especially when there's the promise of affection on the line. Carefully, he kneels down beside the bed, keeping both of his hands on his thighs. He's afraid to touch you, now that he has to come to terms with your mortality.

"You can rest your head on my chest," you comment, lifting your left arm up to make room for him. "Don't worry, I won't break", you chuckle, seeing him tense at the mere suggestion.

As steady as he can, Homelander leans closer to rest his big head across your chest. At first he tries not to go down with his full weight, but he soon feels your dainty fingers running through his undercut. With a deep sigh, he feels himself slowly sinking into your body, made more placid by the sounds of your heart in his ears.

"There we go, all good," you console him calmly. "Now, can you tell me why you're upset?"

You already know the answer, you can read him like a book. But you want him to articulate it, and relieve him of the worries that plague his sensitive mind.

"Y-you…" he mumbles, struggling at first to find the right words. This isn't a conversation he'd think he'd have in a million years. "Y-you're human."

"And you're scared that I can get injured so easily?" you ask. Trembling, he nods, admitting to himself how weak you are compared to him. You are just a human, and he is a supe. The strongest one on earth at that. How could he ever think your relationship would work?

"Oh baby boy," you hum, stroking the side of his cheek, wet from his tears. "People get hurt all the time, that's just a fact of life. But that doesn't mean we can't live in fear, we live each day like it could be our last."

"S-s-sorry… I-I… I'm s-sorry…" he whispers, his voice sounding so small compared to moments ago when he was yelling at you.

"Why, because you weren't there to rescue me?" you question him. You sense him attempting to bury his face further into your chest out of shame. He feels that he failed you, not only as a superhero but as a boyfriend. "Sweetpea, you don't have to feel guilty. It wasn't your fault. It happened, but I'm fine now."

He angles his head up at you, his brows furrowed and red puffy eyes glaring at your last remark. You are far from fine, your shoulder is wounded. How can you even say that?

"Hey," you breathe, petting his hair. "It's going to be alright. I got hurt, but now it's over. I'm going to get better, and I love you very much, okay?"

Exhaling through his nose he nods, still not entirely convinced, but he can at least drop it for now. You're right, you are presently safe. All he wants right now is to be in your company. Softly purring at your genuine love, he lets himself melt into your tender scratches along his scalp. You whisper sweet affirmations into his ear, always babying him even through your injury.

After some time, he realizes that you've fallen back asleep. Your accident and surgery must have taken its toll on your body, so fragile and yet so perfect. You deserve the rest.

Homelander gets up from his kneeling position and meticulously lifts you up, moving your body to the other side of the bed so he can lie down beside you. Resting his head on your chest again, he removes his gloves to wrap his arms around your legs as delicately as he can muster. His long fingers caress your skin, the feeling of your soft features comforting him as he is lulled into slumber by your heart. He wonders how he will ever be able to separate himself from this beautiful sound once you wake up.

You may be human, but you are flawless, impeccable. You are a god. You are unspoiled by the cruelty of the rest of society, and you must stay that way. He will never let anything harm you ever again. Otherwise… the world will burn.

[tanoraqui]

Dungeon Meshi Liveblog: I should make a fucking...(food) web of connected concepts with panels that connect them...

I love how Kabru is just part of this friend group, now. He invited himself and no one's questioning it. Laios invited him to lunch later, and that counts.

.

I love how everyone is varying levels of "oh fuck" until we get to The Current Party, where it's:

Senshi: thinking intently, a little grimly, about how he could butcher and cook this

Marcille: a dash of 'oh fuck', but also sad, in the way of watching a friend slide down a slippery slope

Chilchuck: incredible dad energy on this line, honestly.

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don't you give my son orders, you piece of shit. you aren't worthy of being lord of anything. you protect nothing, wish to help no one, except your own desires. (The Demon never should've been alive at all. It's not suited to it.)

.

This is gonna look sooo cool animated in color.

.

I might actually be more offended by the demon wearing Kensuke like normal than by the whole wearing of Laios's body? It's so symbolic.

.

I want to know how the ancients achieved that - binding the demon such that, while underground, it could only warp reality in service to a living being's desires. Though really, that seems to be how it's always operated - the only desire it ever expressed for itself was to eat the desires of others. Otherwise, it's only shown fulfilling wishes, before it's locked in the dungeon as well as after.

But I wonder if having a physical form gives it the ability to want more? Does it hunger and third and want to rest, now? DOes it really feel a yearning not just for the completion of its plan, but for the open sky and sight of the world which it hasn't seen in so long?

.

Needless to say, we love a visual parallel.

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yep, this sure is the Eating Each Other Cyclically chapter! (This is the Eating Each Other Cyclically story, actually. It's called the ecosystem!)

.

oh I hate this actually. It's scary in a real way. I do not like being forced to acknowledge that Chilchuck is much, much smaller, weaker and more fragile than Laios. I do not like seeing him curled up and helpless and unable to ever reconnect with his family.

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Freak cubed! Actually, how many times has it gone back and forth, now...?

the lion swallowed all of them

Laios ate hte lion in order to swap bodies (ish)

honestly I feel like the demon being counts as eating him in turn. Making Laios's body part of itself, you know? That's eating.

(monster!)Laios ate demon(!Laios)

demon(!Laios) is now eating (monster!)Laios

...so, Freak^5

.

The parallel to Marcille snapping at Laios to drop the plant seeds in Chapter 2... Love how every now and then people resort to yelling at this man like he's a dog. Truly, he is a beagle of all time (eats Things) ('Things' is an unlimited category of which the details are best left unknown)

.

THIS IS IT, BITCHES! THESIS TIME!! I'M GONNA USE "IF AND ONLY IF LIKE IT'S A GODDAMN MATHEMATICAL PROOF, BECAUSE THAT'S HOW THIS HAS BEEN PRESENTED THROUGHOUT!

LIVING IFF EATING IFF HUNGERING IFF WANTING.

TO DO ONE IS TO DO THEM ALL, FOR EVERY ENTITY IN EXISTENCE: EVERY RACE, EVERY CREATURE.

LIVING AND DYING, EATING AND KILLING AND BEING KILLED AND BEING EATEN, ARE ALL SIDES OF THE SAME COIN. YOU WILL DO BOTH.

IT'S CALLED THE ECOSYSTEM.

And it applies to social structures as well as biomes btw.

YOU WILL ALWAYS EAT, AND THEN YOU WILL ALWAYS HUNGER FOR THE NEXT MEAL. BECAUSE YOU ARE STILL ALIVE.

Which is why hunger(/living) is poisonous to this infinite being, btw: the cycle is infinite, sure, but specifically because any single creature within the cycle is finite. To exist as part of the cycle, the world, breaks the infinite being, even as the infinite being inevitably destroys the world.)

But most of all:

EATING (IFF BEING EATEN IFF LIVING IFF WANTING) IFF UNDERSTANDING IFF BEING CONNECTED/BEING PART OF

THE FUNDAMENTAL [DESIRE/HUNGER/LIFE EXPERIENCE/CONNECTION/SHARED UNDERSTANDING] OF BEING ALIVE IN THIS WORLD IS [EATING/LIVING/DYING/KILLING/WANTING/HUNGERING/BEING CONNECTED/UNDERSTANDING OTHERS/BEING UNDERSTOOD/WANTING TO BE UNDERSTOOD/WANTING TO UNDERSTAND/WANTING TO BE CONNECTED]

...WHICH DOES ALSO INCLUDE (MONSTERFUCKER) VORE

(This is the fucking...Theseus wrestling the Minotaur statue...of this world... People are going to make this statue of King Laios Eating the Demon... It's going to be in museums...and in the palace... The true curse here is that Marcille is going to have to see versions of this motif for her entire excruciatingly long life...)

[crest-fallen-0]

Ok this is a bit insane so hear me out but -BSD fandom. I’ve always had this hc of Dazai’s inhumanity, one which is very unpopular. For years. But hear me out, it’s what makes him so compelling.

Inter-dimensionality is something that BSD interacts with frequently. There is a consistent reappearance of reality’s moldability in a meta way, making the reader a literal part of the plot. “The book” is the literal text of BSD.

If the book exists as more than a janky mechanic within the story, then there is some level of shallowness and distortion about their world. Things like death aren’t always permanent, premonition and uncanny future telling are possible, and the concept of the book implies the existence of a destiny in the plot, (or a predetermined outcome), sometimes paradoxically. What is written will happen, and what will happen will be written. The concept of time and of consequence literally exist as an object within this universe. ‘Fate’ or ‘destiny’ can be physically held.

Dazai has been criticized for always knowing things, for having an unreasonable level of foresight about the plot. This is usually attributed to his smarts, but it goes a bit beyond that, and beyond pattern recognition. A good way to see this is to compare him to Ranpo. The two seem to be operating with different tools. Ranpo is almost a little unsettled by Dazai (and Fyodor).

Dazai shows a level of emotional premonition and mastering of reality that’s freaky.

My theory is that this “plot armor” is an actual type of tool used by characters within the story, is their sort of connection with the fabric of the shallow universe (or the pages of the book). This is another layer of interaction with reality that Dazai especially (although sometimes others) have.

Add this to Dazai’s character traits, especially in the manga. He sort of deftly moves the pieces, and we get the sense that this is purposeful. He doesn’t seem to ostensibly do anything besides make outrageous plans which always work, he cannot fight reliably nor really deduce well on the spot (or he never does this out loud), yet, whenever he is around, everything sort of peacefully moves where it should. He has to be forcefully removed from the plot in order to cause the maximum amount of drama in more arcs than not. I think we’re supposed to believe that Fyodor (who is the only one approaching Dazai in this otherworldly aura), against the ADA (without Dazai) would win, and Dazai against the DOA (without Fyodor) would win. Ranpo can see things, but he is ultimately sort of helpless to this progression, whereas Dazai and Fyodor sit above. Everything is in their game of chess.

I believe Dazai is also emotionally unrealistic for a human portrayal, and this is where I’m gonna get flayed, especially because I don’t have the space to go into every detail (maybe later). He seems emotionally distanced from every but a select few characters. His relationship with Atsushi feels a bit groomy (as in the creation of a tool rather than sexually).

I feel Dazai is fundamentally bored. He is a character, despite all of his control, of unfulfilled desire. He wants to die, he desires it in his pursuit of pleasure, but he cannot, in an unsettlingly supernatural way (when removed from the bit). He says, “Everything worth wanting is lost the moment I obtain it.”

He is ultimately active, and acting (in a fundamental sense), but he wants to be acted upon. He enjoys being yelled at, causing anger, he seems to preen under fury, he likes to flirt with the edge, and it never seems to quite take him. His plans are outrageous because they always seem to deliver him into the arms of death, just from something to pull him away at the last minute (often Chuuya) .

Anyways, don’t murder me, just scroll pls TT.

[swoo0zy]

I think Star and Wander would be just as frustrated w/ each other as Wander was with Dom in s2, if not more. Ostensibly, they share the same goals so theoretically it shouldn't be too hard for one to get thru to the other. Problem is, both Wander and Star are very stubborn irt their views and what they think is the right way to go about things. Granted, with s3 being about testing Wander, he likely would've started to question his beliefs abit and eventually become not as stubborn with his views, especially considering Dom blunty turning down his offer of redemption/friendship at the end of s2. Maybe Star would've had a similar arc? What do you think ?

YEAH !!!!!! YEAH LITERALLY !!!!! thx for asking! big oc infodump incoming

thats exactly what ive been thinking of, like SFEF honestly have the universe's best interest in mind. they motivate their actions on the belief that they're right n they're genuinely doing good by freeing galaxies of villains, even if it's in frankly cruel ways n their definition of what is "good" n what is "evil" is extremely black n white n divided. they are the always the good guys n others r the bad guys who are inherently fundamentally evil n dangerous n deserve every terrible thing in the world to happen to them (that worldview is basically exactly what leads to the dehumanization of villains in their eyes n that is what makes it rlly easy for them to do what they do cuz they don't view villains as actual ppl with their own motivations n reasoning but as a disembodied force to be defeated).

star, who is the perfect guy to represent SFEF's beliefs n ideals (like he genuinely does not question them in the slightest he accepts their worldview as his own to the point his self-identity is tied directly to SFEF. the way he goes about fulfilling his duty is sort of tainted by his own personal wants n opinions sometimes, that's why sugar n ultra r there to level it out, but at the core he operates on the same logic as SFEF do, underneath all of their inspiring slogans n speeches of their righteous mission), is also the perfect guy to serve as a contrast to wander. star is literally like helplessness-less wander from the wanders episode. we only got to see him once in the show n the only thing he did was do a cool pose n explain his worldview, so star is basically what would happen if he got to act upon n actively spread his ideology — if wander had to face against someone w his own discarded belief n prove not just to himself but to literally the entire galaxy that it is not the answer

i feel like wander would be absolutely delighted to see SFEF show up at first. new people in the galaxy, and they're here to help, and they're really good at their job and others seem to really like them — this is basically like the hot shot episode situation. but then as their mission goes on hed begin to recognize their approach is flawed AS HELL — hed get that ideological ick from them. the problem is — he's the only one. post-dominator, after his pacifistic approach didn't work and dominator turned out to be an irredeemable sadist who could've only been stopped by force, the yonder galaxy would sorta start questioning wander n be more willing to side w SFEF n their more forceful methods. maybe that would even include sylvia, give her a bit of an arc — ofc shed still stay w wander n in the end shed support him, but judging by her character i feel like she wouldn't be opposed to a team of good guys who stop villains by force instead of trying to befriend them. even if she started warming up to peepers a lot n even cheered for hater in the end of the galaxy, she still doesn't seem to fully agree w wander on the sentiment that villains can be redeemed (quite paradoxical considering she was a redeemed "bad guy". wonder where that stems from). i think an arc of her coming to her own conclusion that wander really is right abt that instead of just going along w all his plans throughout all s3 would do her pretty well. so there goes the testing wander part. no matter how confident in ur own righteousness u are, if literally the entire galaxy rejects ur worldview u can't help but start to question it. that might even work to wander's benefit in a way, cuz his approach admittedly is still kinda flawed, so starting to question it might in the end make it more nuanced n balanced instead — curiously, what tries to break him ends up helping him in its own way. in the end it'd all probably come around to a big epic wander win n a great philosophical conclusion abt pacifism n what is good n evil n how too drenched in nuance everything actually is to apply such simple black n white logic to it. idk exactly how it'll happen but thats how i imagine it

now this part is curious, cuz smth needs to happen to SFEF after they lose right? now um the best outcome would be to show the entire bigass intergalactic SFEF organization the error of their ways so they can use their influence n power for something better — but idk how to actually come to it, cuz it's quite the feat.

what is a bit less of a feat is to redeem just star sugar n ultra in the end. ultra has her own arc going on of gaining conscience n beginning to question SFEF's ways by virtue of their beliefs being programmed into her, n the very act of her gaining free thought goes directly against her programming. so she doesn't have a brainwashed stupidass little head like how star does, which makes it just the tiniest bit easier. wander would come in super handy as a guy who showed an alternative to loyal to their authority soldiers/robots at least two times before. now i just dont know if i should let ultra have her happy ending or give her the beep boop treatment, inevitably shut down for good or sent back to be reset back to her factory settings the moment she stops being convenient to the cause or even worse tries to sabotage it. hard choice

sugar... sugar is a bit of a pickle. they dont go against SFEF but they don't exactly support it either. u see their species — bonbons — due to their physiological advantages, r rlly convenient for SFEF to hire. theyre almost impossible to hurt, have the ability to regenerate, can shift shape freely n can solidify or liquify their body's consistency at will. so basically SFEF practically has control over their homeplanet, in the cultural n societal sense. working for SFEF is like the go-to career there — kinda like the military if they payed better n also didn't endanger ur life so much. so sugar isn't there out of some righteous desire to save the universe, or for glory, or out of obligation — theyre basically there for the bag. its like a 9 to 5 to them. a circumstance. that attitude is outrageous, but that's the point — sugar is rlly detached from reality. they just go w the flow. they dont want to think too hard about the cause theyre contributing to. they dont want to think of the fact their actions have consequences. they dont want to take the lead of their own life. n since they leave it up for grabs SFEF is happy to accept the offer. in order for sugar to have an arc of abandoning SFEF n growing as a person they need something DRASTICCCC to happen, put them in a situation where they have no choice but to take action n actually pick a side. to commit. idk how that'd happen but it would be great trust 🙏🙏

now star. heheheheheh. until just recently i actually didnt even consider a character arc for him. hes a stubborn self-assured delusional fucking blockhead who would rather kill himself than admit he's wrong. i felt like just keeping him that way cuz i didnt see how wander would be able to make him reconsider that wout it feeling forced. but then it came to me, that if there's anything he believes to be as correct as himself — its SFEF. like ive said SFEF is basically tied into his self image now. every "I'm not wrong" automatically translates into "SFEF isn't wrong" n vice versa. n now — what if those sentiments weren't just separated but directly put against eachother, one or the other inevitably false. what if SFEF fired him. its their big final loss, star is forced to admit defeat, mark the end of their mission in the yonder galaxy n just come back to the main SFEF station empty handed. but they don't even let him do that. they just fire him. he fucked up his first mission in a relatively small galaxy that was literally almost wiped out by a huge threat beforehand — like it was perfect picking n he fucked that up. he proved himself worthless n hes not rlly important enough to deserve a second chance from them, they can fire him n literally nothing would change (a big shocker for star who genuinely thought he was all that. in reality they didn't even hire him in the first place cuz of his skills or something — it was because he looked like their mascot 😭 ofc going up the SFEF career ladder to the point they oh so generously allow him to lead a mission took him a lot of effort. but in the end he's just another easily replaceable cog in the machine. he refused to see that until now. he was like the biggest SFEF d-rider ever n he naively thought he meant something in return, that his efforts would pay off, that he'd be recognized for how absolutely jawdroppingly cool n awesome he is, that he has some worth to them — but he doesn't). n so something that was a big part of him, something he built his identity on, now leaves him on the side of the road. n it creates a huge dissonance — n he can't figure out whether he's wrong for fucking up n being a fucking loser or they're wrong for firing him, cuz both of those r thoughts he refused to even consider before. now probably for the first time in his life he's forced to come face to face w the fact he failed, in a way he can't brush off or takw himself back from after. to make matters worse he's basically homeless now lmao cuz he used to live on the SFEF spaceship station until they fired him n he cant come back to his parents house cuz that's the most shameful humiliating shit ever to him n hed rather kill himself than let his parents know the fucking SFEF fired his ass cuz its kinda a big deal 👍 n so there goes wonder — @catfacedcat's oc

some exposition so wonder is a criminal who keeps getting away n hes basically like stars arch nemesis n they also have a bit of a Thing going on. toxic yaoi situationship. now to star wonder was like. a spot on his squeaky clean self image. falling for a criminal n ur enemy is basically... a flaw. a weakness. an inevitable loss n stuff. actually there was smth rlly good that came out of it, interacting w wonder a lot n warming up to him made star question a bit maybe he's not such a fundamentally evil terrible badguy after all. like "maybe nuance is real n bad ppl r still ppl hmmm ☝️☝️ nah no way" or whatever. so what i mean to say is star is at the lowest of the lows rn right. this is that inevitable loss. hes the spot on his own made up image of himself that he couldn't live up to. so he goes to the guy who he feels he belongs w most now — wonder. belongs not in a romantic sense(ok maybe a romantic sense too) but in a "ure the only person im vaguely close to who i feel like could look me in the eyes rn simultaneously the only person id let see me cuz the very act of me feeling anything towards u was already a step so low for me that begging u to let me stay w u doesn't even feel like going much lower. anyway so can u let me in ure my only hope 🥺" sense. so he just stands outside of wonders car cuz wonder doesnt even have a fucking house either, holding a cardboard box w 3 shirts 10 ties n a cactus, completely drenched out in the rain probably fell in a fucking puddle on the way. n i feel like he doesn't even expect him to open the door. n wonder wouldn't really be to blame if he didn't like things r rlly complicated between them. + she alr has to share her stupid broken ass car w her coolioburger 4yo kid (big shoutout to woopa) like be so fr rn. but hed probably let star in anyway n they just sit there rlly awkwardly n avoid eye contact. basically a huge humbling experience for star that is sure to kickstart a character arc of reconsidering things n becoming a better person n stuff 👍 all because of yaoi

big shoutout to my frjends for this one fr stars arc was like a group project

[potato-frenzy]

"Bill.....Bill? Billiammmmmm...Mr. Triangle Apocalypse Criminal Serving Time As A Dirty Human...."

Bill jolts hard enough to send his bowl of honeycomb cereal and oatmilk tottering across the table, hissing at what are soon to be blooming bruises on his knees. Sensory input rushing back in so fast he feels his vision white out, grey creeping in at the edges as his chest begins the jackhammering act again. "Oh my god! Don't die! Not like this! Holy crap, Dipper!"

He only distantly hears Mabel's voice as he slumps out of the kitchen chair, lost against the backdrop of bloodflow and electrical wiring in the walls. His head doesn't crack on the linoleum funnily enough and part of him notes it but the rest of him is lost in the whiteout of sensation assaulting all too human sense. Noise above everything but ligaments and cartilage are a horrible thing to be able to feel when those are elasticated a certain way. Smell never seems to be very obtrusive but tasting dust and wood and plastic as well a hundred other things in a space.

He's never really aware of how long these things last, but he knows that as long as he's not alone it's okay.

Eventually things settled, his awareness comes back to the background noise levels that humans are supposed to operate at. His nervous system no longer able to handle higher levels of input. He blinks away the white and spots and finds himself looking up at Dipper's stricken face and then he registers the taste of blood.

"Did you ......stick your hand in my mouth?" The fifteen year old Pines guiltily tucks bloodied fingers into a vest pocket. Bill can't muster the energy to roll his eyes as the frayed edges of lessening awareness ease.

Another set of hands helps him sit up and he feels his stomach flip uncomfortably. "Did Sixer never tell you that I have a bite clip for that, Pine Tree? It's literally like......in my pocket." Bill grumbles, almost slurred as the younger twins help him back into the chair.

"I was just reading the section of your care guide where the seizures were being covered when Mabel screamed so......" Dipper grumbles as his sister shoves him into another before going to get the first aid kit.

It's the first summer since his return to this reality that the two have spent with their uncles. The pair had reacted poorly at first, both convinced that Bill was playing some long con. But it wasn't very long before they realized he was genuinely helpless. Stanley being willing to care for him in this state, keeping non-dairy alternatives and other GI safe foods in the house so he doesn't die, was a big help.

"What triggered it? The guide said they weren't random. Ouch, Mabel!" Dipper hisses as his bleeding fingers are sprayed with peroxide and Bill has a moment to look at this face that he's looked out of at one point. The younger twins are as identical as their uncles, almost eerily so since Mabel got a pixie cut about two weeks into their stay.

"I don't know, all I was really aware of before everything started exploding was Glitterbomb on the phone with........Puma?"

"Her name is Fatma, Twinkmageddon!" An accusing, jingly, glitter acrylic nail tipped finger is jabbed in Bill's direction. Glitterbomb is a not inaccurate description of the femme Pines twin. Bedecked as she is in glittery resin jewelry, bedazzled denim, and chains dripping in brightly colored charms. "You know my girlfriend's name, you just refused to use it."

"Well excUuuUuse me, princess. I just had my jiggly brain loaf of grey matter firing on all cylinders to a degree that is considered unhealthy according to some. If I misremember a rando's name in the direct aftermath, I apologize." Bill drawls sarcastically, rolling his eyes hard enough to see camera flash after images and cracking his neck with concerningly loud pops like a BB gun.

"Enough," Dipper snaps, yanking on his sister's chain belt. She glares out of the corner of her eye as she returns to the task of patching her brother up. The masc twin groans at the bickering, not like he isn't just as prone to sniping about Bill's situation, but pulls the care guide out of his vest pocket. "I didn't read what the typical observed triggers were yet....."

"Pain or sensory overload or both." Bill answers before Dipper can find his place in the book again. Busily pretzeling his legs under himself as his heartrate takes it's sweet time returning to resting.

"Ah, okay.....Are the lights in here too much? Are you in pain?" Ever the scientist, his fringe falling his eyes as he leafs through the guide while he gathers data.

"Not any more than normal. Chapter 2, kemosabi."

"Right, your baseline is a 3. What could have set you off?" Dipper flexes his hand as the last Jurassic Park bandaid is secured to his fingers, the gears in his brain going as he mulls the presented problem.

"Well, I just know that he started spacing out while I was on the phone and then jumped like he got electrocuted when I touched him." Mabel jingles about, putting the first aid kit away grumpily.

"You ruined a good dissociation is what you did-"

"Oh my god! Too much sensory input due to coming back from a dissociative episode too quickly!" Bill can feel his heartrate spike, his ribs protesting by twitching threateningly, vision tinging grey slightly. Dipper sounds way too excited by the discovery.

"Congratulations on your breakthrough, Baby Einstein." Bill drawls again, slumping against the sticky surface of the kitchen table to steady himself.

-------------------------------------------------------

I would die for Mabel Pines, that's my girl.

This piece is brought to you by my experience with pain/sensory seizures. The POTS symptoms are courtesy of my partner, the EDS is just for fun.

For reference, the first piece was six weeks into Bill's mortal tenure. This one is seven months in, the younger twins have been back for a month. This is the summer between their freshman and sophomore years of highschool. They're turning sixteen at the end of the summer.

Still mulling Dipper's evolution, but, Mabel is a baby lesbian and basically glitter punk. Her girlfriend is trans btw.

[holbrookswifey]

Heartbeats Fade

Denny Duquette x fem!reader

Summary: Y/n is a nurse at Seattle Grace hospital and she's Denny's doctor looking after him. After being in a secret relationship, everything goes south

Warnings: Smut MDNI 18+, unprotected sex, soft sex, mentions of organs, mentions of death

A/N: If anyone has seen Grey's anatomy, you'll know I've somewhat attempted to follow what happens in the show and Izzy Stevens is not existent in this fic. I decided to make it soft smut instead of making it full of smut and yes I purposely made the ending how it ends so it's not a continuous fic, it's all one long fic. I hope you all enjoy!

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Seattle Grace hospital was no stranger to tending to patients with heart conditions, complicated or simple. Denny was a patient Y/n would tend to due to his condition, viral cardiomyopathy, in need of supervision in case his heart fails again. She would always look out for him while trying to juggle with other patients, her stress levels always at a constant high but whenever she was around Denny, she was different. More relaxed.

There has been a few close calls with Denny due to his constant scares with his heart but he always recovers, a nasal cannula has been given to him to help him breathe while the oxygen can help him recover. As days pass, Y/n regularly comes in and checks on him, the other doctors not aware that they have been in a secret relationship a few days after he was admitted.

Today was the day where Denny would get a portable LVAD installed so he could get up and out of bed, even though Y/n was opposed to the idea because it could cause more problems than the one he was currently on but he decided to go through it anyway. As Denny is being prepped for the surgery required, Y/n slowly leaned down and stroked his thick black hair to comfort him. "Good luck, Denny." Y/n said with a small, comforting smile as he's about to be wheeled in. Denny smiles weakly and only caresses her soft hand before she steps back as they take Denny into the operating room.

As hours pass, Y/n can't help but worry a little until she sees Denny still unconscious from anesthesia from his surgery, a surge of relief flowing through her veins as she sees he's okay. When he comes to, he sees Y/n sitting next to him in the chair next to the bed, and he smiles a little. "What're you doing in here? Don't you have to tend to other patients?" Denny asks in a groggy tone, still recovering from the anesthesia as well as being intubated.

"It's my break. I wanted to stay here with you until you woke up." She replies softly, reaching up and gently running her fingers through the thick, black strands of his hair. He closes his eyes again as he feels her affection in the touches. "Yeah?" He asks softly. "Yeah." She replies as she continues to stroke his hair with precision and care.

Throughout the few days he's had of recovery, he's up and walking around as he adjusts to his portable LVAD although still a little bit wobbly but he's recovering well. As Denny and Y/n get to the stairs, he collapses halfway up, making her worried and rush to him. "Denny! Are you okay?!" She asks worriedly as she helps him up, seeing his LVAD's battery is almost drained.

Denny sits up weakly and groans, a bit sore from the fall as he grabs her hand as she helps him up. "God this sucks." He says in between breaths as he tries to get oxygen back into his body, the shortness of breath is really catching up to him. "It's okay, Denny. You're okay."

As she helps Denny back to his hospital room, he sighs in defeat, feeling helpless and useless because of his heart condition. "Y/n...I don't want to be stuck here anymore. This sucks." He says in a low but of a sort of irritated voice, but he's not mad at her, he's mad at himself.

"Denny, you have to otherwise you won't get better." Y/n says pleadingly as she holds his hand as he lays on his usual hospital bed. He shakes his head, laying his head back against the uncomfortable pillows. "No. I want to go home. There's no use being here if I can't be fixed. I'm too weak." Hearing Denny say that broke her heart. "Hey..." She gently coaxes him to look at her.

"You can be fixed, but it'll take some time. Denny. Not long now until your transplant and you'll be healthy again." She says as she sees a tear run down his slightly stubbled cheek and wipes it away from his skin, the pad of her thumb slightly wet from the tear. "Y/n...if you knew what this was like, you would have to let me die." He replies, his voice soft, almost too soft.

The next morning, the doctors seem to have found a kink in his LVAD, working on it as they finally fix the kink, taking him out of intubation as he can finally breathe properly again. He's been working extra hard on recovering and walking around the hospital halls to get himself strong again and she couldn't be prouder of him until she gets the news from one of the other nurses that a heart transplant is avaliable due to a donor passing away.

Y/n looks over at Denny in his bed, then looking back at the nurse who told her before she goes over to Denny to tell him the news. "Denny. A spot opened up for a heart transplant. You can get a new heart." She says, sounding optimistic. "Really?" He asks in a soft voice, sounding a little skeptical. "Yes, really. At another hospital. You could have a new, properly working heart again." She tells him, tears welling up in her eyes as well as his own.

The next morning comes around and Denny decides to sign a DNR form, not wanting to be revived if he ever dies or something goes terribly wrong. Other nurses and doctors on standby get Denny prepped for surgery and exit the room for now as Y/n is doing some paperwork on another patient, then to her surprise, she hears Denny flatline, making her immediately run into Denny's room. "Denny?" She tries to shake him awake gently but firmly as she sees that his LVAD'S wire has been cut, making her scramble to look for who did it.

She peeks her head out and yells for the closest person in the staff. "Code blue! Someone's cut Denny's LVAD wire!" Y/n calls out desperately as George comes rushing in and tells Y/n to get the equipment to manually operate his heart. After a small amount of time, she comes almost running back in with the equipment and sets it up, starting to manually pump Denny's heart to keep it beating.

As she keeps it pumping, gunshots ring repeatedly outside of the hospital, screams erupting from both doctors and patients but Y/n didn't move from her place, trying her best to keep Denny alive. After a while of chaos amongst the hospital floors, one of the interns run in to tell her that Dr Burke has been shot, unable to do the transplant for Denny. As George sees Y/n's destroyed look, he takes over to look after Denny. She sits down in the chair next to his bed, head in her hands as this new revelation can affect Denny's chance of living.

After the chaos dies down, a new surgeon is called in and Denny is wheeled into the operating room, preparing for the new heart transplant. After a long few hours, the new heart is implanted into Denny's chest, the surgeons work to get the heart started again. Once it finally starts beating, the surgeons close his chest back up, stitching it so it stays shut and they take him back into his room so he can recover.

As Y/n is still sitting in his room, still very worried about him, she sees the doctors wheel him back in. She sees that Denny is unconscious, praying that the surgery went well as he lays there, still under the anesthesia. Almost an hour passes and she is still sitting next to him, making sure his vitals are okay as his new heart beats like a normal, regular heartbeat should be like.

What she doesn't know is that Denny is now back awake and stable while the interns run tests themselves, and Y/n hears something that makes her perk up. "Y/n..." Denny says a little weakly as he's awake and talking. She looks up and goes over to him immediately as they're now alone in his hospital room together.

"Denny." She says softly as he reaches for her hand. She hesitates before sliding her hand into his, his hand much bigger in contrast which makes her heart flutter. "Look. Warm hands." He says with a soft chuckle, trying not to smile as he runs his tongue over his lower lip, his tongue poking out of his mouth slightly.

"You look...amazing, Denny." She says with a soft smile which makes him chuckle again. "Got a regular heartbeat now." He replies, unable to stop himself from smiling, marveling in the fact he has a normal heart now.

Y/n smiles too, really proud of him for pulling through the extreme surgery he just underwent. As Denny looks back up at her, he decides to speak up again after the long, comfortable silence between the two of them. "Y/n, I have something to ask you." He says softly, his brown eyes looking into her eyes.

"What is it?" She asked as he begins to caress the back of her hand with his thumb. "Y/n, for five years, I had to live by the choice of my doctors. The guys that cut me open decided my life, there wasn't one choice that was mine, and now, I have this heart that beats...that works. I get to be like everybody else. I get to make my own decisions, have my own life...do whatever the damn hell I choose. Now here's the good part, so now you listen close...now what I choose...is you. You're what I want to wake up with and to go to bed with, and do everything in between with. I get a choice now. I get to choose. I choose you, Y/n Y/l/n. It's your turn again, Y/n...will you...marry me?" He says and asks, telling her how he feels and how he finally gets a choice and he chooses her.

She's left speechless, not expecting a proposal from him especially in this state, but she loves him dearly like he loves her. She knows it could be wrong but she's gotten attached to him in a way no one can understand although he's her patient. There's no way she could let go of him because she's overly attached to him, grew to love him and care for him more than she has for anyone else she's known. Y/n nods, trying not to cry.

"Yeah, yes of course. I choose to marry you." She replies as she sees a huge smile crawl onto his face, his smile so wide it could split his face in half but it's a cute smile she's grown to love. He reaches out his arms for a hug and she gladly accepts the hug, being very gentle and cautious of his gauzed chest so she doesn't cause any pain to him since he's still fresh out of surgery.

"I'd like something else if you want it too, Y/n." Denny says as he looms up at her, looking much more aware than he was before. "What's up?" She asks as she goes back to stroking his hair, her fingers slipping gently through the short strands. Denny seems a little hesitant at first but he finds the courage to ask you the question that's been lingering in his mind. "Can we make love?" He asks softly, wanting to show her affection and love.

Her eyes widen a little, surprised that he'd want to do it even though it's not the safest thing for him to do right now. "But Denny, it's not a good idea to put your heart under that sort of pressure right now." She protests quietly. Denny shakes his head slowly, not worried about the potential problems things like sex could do to his new heart. "I don't care. I want to do it, no matter what." He says in a low voice, looking over at the open blinds and then looks back at her.

Y/n's face shows clear hesitation that can't be mistaken for another emotion, really not wanting to push his new heart just for sex but if he wants it, she doesn't want to keep him from that wish and also deep down, she knows she'd like to do it as well so she walks over to the door to the room, locking it and closing the blinds attached to the windows. Denny can't help but smile a little as he feels his heartbeat begin to speed up in anticipation and excitement at the thought of finally being able to make love to her for the first time.

"Come here." He says softly as he gestures to come on the bed, wanting to feel her on top of him. As Y/n slowly climbs up onto the bed, still feeling anxious about doing something that will cause him pain, Denny quickly makes sure those thoughts of hers are pushed aside as he gently takes her chin into his fingers and gently pulls her down, kissing her softly.

Her eyes close slowly as she lets her lips part to let his tongue come into her mouth. Once he feels her lips part, he slowly slips his tongue in, groaning softly as her tongue meets his own as they both begin to make out softly and slowly. One of his hands moves down to her lower back and gently pulls her closer until she's right on top of him, a soft gasp comes from her occupied lips as she feels he's hard, causing him to smile and detach his lips from hers.

"It's okay, I promise." He whispers as she gently presses back down onto the small of her back so she can feel more of his erection through his hospital gown and her pants. "Denny..." She whines softly as the feeling of his hard cock is pushing right against the entrance to her covered pussy, making her arousal spike but still taking it slow. She wants to lean down even more but she doesn't want to risk hurting him but he lures her down as they kiss again, making out again.

He slides his hands down to her jeans, slowly unbuttoning and unzipping them before he slowly slides them down her legs. Y/n lifts her hips so he can slide them down to her ankles, and he does so, her jeans falling to her ankles before she slides them off and sets them next to them both on the bed. Denny then slowly lifts her shirt over head, breaking the kiss for a moment before kissing her again once her shirt is off.

He gets to work on finding the clips of her bra, unclipping them and slides off her bra with ease and gentleness, her breasts exposed to his eyes as he slowly slides his hand up to one of them, kneading her breast as he looks almost entranced by the sight of her beautiful, perky breasts. "You're so beautiful." He whispers to her as he tries to sit up, but she stops him instantly.

"Denny, hey hey hey. Please don't." She says softly but he finally listens this time, his back resting back down on the bed and lets her take control. She lowers herself down so he can kiss or touch whatever he'd like, his lips first going to her neck before he leans down even more to her breast, licking her nipple as she gasps softly and he kisses on it a few times.

She arches her back a little at the amazing sensations he's giving her, her fingers going back his hair. He breaks away from her breast and reaches down to take the blanket off of himself, revealing the huge tent underneath his gown. He lifts the gown up and takes it off, causing Y/n to protest. "Denny, no." She says, resting her hands on his.

"Y/n, it's okay. I'm okay, I promise. I'm not gonna do anything stupid." He reassures her as he takes the gown off the rest of the way, resting it with her clothes next to them as his underwear show just how hard he is underneath them. He looks at her with loving eyes but as he tries to reach down to take off his underwear, Y/n stops him gently. "I'll do it." She says softly as she reaches down to them, slowly and gently sliding them down his legs as his hard cock springs out, barely tapping his lower stomach as he sighs, feeling relieved that the pressure on his length is gone.

She sets his underwear with the small pile of clothes next to them but Denny's warm hands beat hers to her underwear, sliding them down her legs as her glistening core is now visible. He can see just how wet she is and pulls her down again so they can kiss, his cock grazing her in between her sensitive folds and against her opening unintentionally which causes another quiet gasp from her.

She breaks the kiss this time and gives him little but deep kisses to his neck like what he did for her, her tongue being used at the same time to make out with his neck, making a small deep groan sound escape from his parted lips as he holds the back of her head so she can keep going. She indeed keeps going, moving to the other side of his neck as she kisses the sides and middle of his throat before he stops her and looks up at her, his cock wanting nothing more than to be inside of her.

As she senses his slight neediness, she hovers over him before slowly moving down and feeling his cock slide into her warmth with surprising ease. Both of them moan softly at the same time as Denny reaches over and sets his hands on both of her hips, helping her guide herself as she very slowly rocks her hips with a combination of back and forth and a slight motion of up and down.

His hands keep slowly and gently guiding her back and forth, his hands making her hips look tiny as he holds them with a soft but firm grips so he doesn't hurt her. His eyes flutter closed as he leans his head back onto the pillow, her hands are on the top of his shoulders but making sure they're not near his fresh stitches underneath the gauze. "God, Y/n..." He hums deeply in satisfaction as he shows a toothy smile, still guiding her hips at a slow but deep pace.

"Fuckkkk..." Y/n moans out softly as she feels his tip graze against her g-spot over and over again inside of her, her walls holding him inside snugly. "That's it, baby...that's it..." Denny moans softly into her ear, wetting his lips with his tongue as he keeps his eyes closed in pleasure.

As time seems to drift by from their slow and pleasurable sex, her walls spams around his cock as he feels himself twitch inside of her. "Denny..." She whines but he already beats her to her own words. "I know, baby...I won't stop you if you need to cum." He reassures her.

She can't stop herself as she lets her orgasm overtake her body, a slightly louder moan comes from her before she releases, her walls tightening around him while she rides her orgasm. Her breathing picks up, slightly overwhelmed by how hard the climax hit her. "Hey, it's okay." Denny says to calm her breathing down, stroking her hair softly as his other hand is still helping her move slowly to let her ride out the tenseness.

He gasps softly as he feels himself needing to release as well. His heart rate picks up a little as he lets himself release, his cum coming into her in spurts. As Y/n feels his heartbeat, she tries to help calm him down as both of them ride out their orgasms. "Denny, hey. Look at me, it's okay. You're overwhelmed...deep breaths." She gently replies as she strokes his cheek with tenderness in her touch.

He finally calms down after a few minutes of her helping him, his heartbeat returning to normal. Y/n slowly lifts herself off of his now softening cock, laying next to him and cuddling to him. "Wow.." Denny whispers as he feels nothing less of amazing from what they've had just done. "Yeah, wow." She replies in a gentle tone as his arm is around her shoulders as they cuddle.

Later that night around 7:40pm, Y/n is working the night shift in the hospital so she went home to change and came back in her scrubs, checking every patient she has helped with. She goes around to everyone, filing some more paperwork for some other patients until she decides to go visit Denny. As she walks in, she sees him not moving and the machine is making the dreaded long continuous beeping sound, causing her to rush over to Denny.

"Denny? Denny??" She calls to him, her voice growing louder as she tries to shake him awake gently but he's unresponsive to her calls. "Denny!" She almost screams as she realises he's gone. She begins to sob, unable to keep them quiet as she holds his hand tightly, somehow hoping it'll bring him back to life but it won't. He's gone...tears flood down her face like heavy rain as he climbs onto his bed next to him, holding him close to herself.

Minutes tick by and Y/n is still holding his body, her head on his chest, hoping to hear his heartbeat again even if she knows it won't happen. Her colleagues come in to see her cuddled with Denny, her face red and wet from crying. "Y/n..." One of them said as they watch her, still not moving from Denny.

"I think it was from a stroke... he was prone to blood clots." She says softly, sniffling as she continues. "The clot couldbe traveled from the sutures to his brain...it only takes a second. Dr Hahn did beautifully with the surgery.." She keeps going, still talking to the colleagues in her soft, almost hushed tone. "But I don't know why I didn't think of blood clots."

"There's nothing you could've done." Alex says as he steps a little closer. Y/n sniffles again, only moving to wipe her nose. "They need to move him." "Take him to the morgue..." She replies, Christina walking up slowly a few steps too. "You can't stay here. I know you want to, but you can't." She says, but Y/n won't budge. "Please, just...please...go.." Y/n whispers, her voice shaky.

"Y/n..." Alex whispers as he comes up beside her, talking softly to her. "This isn't Denny. The minute his heart stopped beating, he stopped being Denny. Now I know you loved him, but he also loved you. A guy with emotion like that, he didn't want you to do this to yourself...because it's not Denny. Not anymore." He says to her.

"I know he's not Denny anymore..." She whispers, tears rolling down her cheeks again. "But I just...I can't...I can't--" She's cut off by her tears building even more, unable to stop herself from crying as she holds Denny's lifeless body close even more. Her cries fill the room as Alex picks her up into his arms, her head resting on his shoulder as he gently carries her out of the room. She looks over at Denny one last time as his body fades away from the distance.

Months pass after Denny's death, Y/n meets with his father, Denny Duquette Sr and they shake hands once they meet. "Doctor Y/l/n." He says as he shakes her hand. "Mr Duquette." She replies. "Please, call me Denny." He says as they both walk over to a booth with two chairs and sit down across one another.

As they talk, Denny Duquette Sr finds out Denny died and how she had quit her job after his son, her fiancè had died which slowly turns into a heated argument between the two of them. After a bit of an argument, Y/n finally decides to make herself heard. "But where were you when he needed you? Because I was there the whole time, I was there. I was working 80 hour weeks, and I was still always there! He had so many surgeries, so many procedures, he was so scared. Where were you then? Where were you?" She says as her voice rises from anger and she stands up from her seat, starting to walk away.

"Wait." He says as he turns in his seat to look at her, causing her to stop and look at him but still angry. "Keep my grandbaby safe. That's all I ask." He says as he motions to her belly, causing her to look down at her own belly, aware she was carrying his son's child. Instead of talking, she walks out and heads back home.

As she arrives home, she hears a subtle voice come from behind her. She turns around and her eyes widen as she sees him, the love of her life that she thought died in the hospital bed. He doesn't say anything as he pulls her into a hug, causing her to hug him back. The hug felt so real, but it was cold and had a light feeling, and she was wondering one thing...did he really die or was this a hallucination?