#why can't I just promise to love and support and die for someone without it needing to be romantic.

[neverendingford]

.

[fairyysoup]

easy living

pairing: eric (a quiet place: day one) x fem!reader

summary: You ran into Eric on accident. Now you're facing the end of the world together. How do you get to know someone when you can't make a sound?

tags: smut, oral (f receiving), dry humping, piv sex, silent fucking, angst, hurt/comfort, survival, discussions of trauma, slight suicidal ideation by reader, words of affirmation as a love language, stay silent or die (obviously), strangers to lovers, apocalyptic, the cheesiest ending bc it's me writing, billie holiday lyrics bc it's also me writing

a/n: here it is, the silent fucking fic i promised y'all a year ago when this movie was announced. it was supposed to be like 1-2k words of plain smut but then I got too into the theory of what one does when you can't show affection through words and I genuinely discovered a tidbit of trauma I didn't know I had while writing it so I will be talking to a therapist about it, and also I'm literally out here baring my soul lol.

i also want to thank @bigtiddythanos @raraeavesmoriendi and @maximoffwxnda for supporting me throughout this writing process <3 this fic literally would not have been finished or published without y'all

ALL MY WORKS ARE 18+ MINORS DNI

The rain has ended. Morose, you stare up at the ceiling, wondering when you’ll get something close to free reign with your voice again. 

Of course the world had to end while you were at fucking Whole Foods.

You’ll miss certain things. Things you always took for granted, that you never even considered made a lot of noise until now. Typing on the computer. Making stir fry. Microwaving a burrito at 3am. Lighting a match, washing your face. Taking a shower.

And other things, too, that are more obvious, like singing while making cookies. Slurping the bottom of a milkshake. You’ll never be able to have a pet bird. You’ll never be able to see another concert again, and damn it if you didn’t really want those Glastonbury tickets a month ago. But it all just seems trivial, now. You don’t see why you shouldn’t just lay here on the couch forever. 

On the other side of the coffee table there’s a gentle shuffling. Eric rouses as quietly as he can; at the very least, your apartment creates a hospitable enough environment that he isn’t startled awake. It’s so silent in the apartment that you can hear the slight shift in his intake of breath, the rustle of the pillow as he turns his head to look at you. 

You want to look at him, but you fear that you’ll end up wanting to talk. So, you say nothing. You do nothing. You stare at the white paint on the ceiling and you wonder whether it would be better to get on one of the boats headed out into the water, or to move inland, away from people, away from sound. There has to be somewhere far enough away from the city that the… creatures won’t go, right?

Eric waves his hand in your periphery, so that you have no choice but to acknowledge that you know he’s awake. You have no choice but to turn your head and look into the depths of his eyes, and feel all the pain of the last 48 hours return to you. You’d been able to talk last night, just enough, in time with the rain and the thunder– enough to learn that he has family across the world. 

You can’t imagine knowing that somewhere, across an ocean and half a world away, your parents may or may not be dead. No way to contact them, no way to know what’s become of them. You can’t even begin to fathom the fear that he’s feeling, as much as you’re despairing. 

Eric’s big eyes tell you everything. Sadness and fear, and trying to grasp at the smallest hint of normalcy he can get. He blinks at you, and mouths, You okay?

No, you’re definitely not okay. Things are not okay. Things are broken and can’t be fixed. Things will never be the same again. He knows that, as much as you know that. But you nod anyway, even though you feel your heart beat a little bit slower than usual, like it wants to just go ahead and give up already. Tears prick at your eyes, and you have to close them before you let on that you’re lying.

Eric knows you’re lying, of course. How could anyone be okay, in this kind of situation? But he waits until you open your eyes, and then he mouths, Coffee?

You let out a small sigh of relief, and a smile that’s indescribably warm crosses your face. Even though he can’t make a sound, he knows exactly what to say.

You don’t have a coffee maker that doesn’t also make a ton of noise. But through some kind of witchcraft, Eric quietly empties two k-cups into a glass measuring cup and boils a soup pot full of water on the stove, and suddenly you have hot coffee in front of you. 

On a notepad left on the counter, you write, Wish I had some tea for you. 

Eric’s lips turn up at the edges, and he takes the pen from you. You’re able to doctor your coffee for about one second before he slides the notepad back to you.

Bloody American.

Your ensuing huff of a laugh is enough to make him turn pink around the ears, and he turns to place the dirty measuring cup into the sink. He reaches for the faucet, but then thinks better of it. You’ll have to figure out how to wash the dishes later.

You both drink your coffee in silence on the couch. You never considered yourself uncomfortable with silence; you’ve lived alone, you’ve gone for weeks without uttering a word before. But it’s so difficult to be sitting next to someone– someone you feel you could really get to like– and not be able to say a word. To make a sound, laugh or cry or snort or grunt. 

You’ll never be able to know what Eric’s laugh sounds like, or listen to his favorite song with him, or watch some stupid rerun of Friends with him while ignoring your responsibilities. He’s right there next to you, he’s risked his life to save you once already, and yet he’s so far away. You’ll never get to know him in all the ways you want to. Will you ever really know him at all?

He’d created a diversion when one of the fucking things had you trapped in a corner, between a dumpster and a brick wall. He chucked a rock at a car and set off an alarm, and then ran with you down an alleyway, his arm wrapped tight around your waist. Eric looked so sad, following you like a lost puppy. He was fucking drenched, too, so you know he’d probably been through one hell of a morning. And then the rain started, and the creatures were confused and… well, you weren’t just gonna leave him, scared and alone.

You, too, were scared and alone.

Eric’s hand appears to brush away a tear that had begun to fall down your cheek, betraying your internal monologue. You look to him with puffy eyes, and he pulls his hand away, suddenly unsure of whether you’re okay with such an intimate gesture. 

Your coffee cup meets the table with a quiet tap. You’re slow to move, but you scoot towards him, his arm still outstretched towards you, his eyes wide. Eric has the prettiest eyes in the world, you think. You want to tell him so.

But you’re a little too choked up to form words, anyways. Your forehead meets Eric’s shoulder, and his arm comes around you before you can huff the first silent sob that brims up. He coos softly into your hair, so softly that you can barely hear it, but it conveys enough. It does enough. 

The world is fucked. Your life is fucked. You have tunnel vision and you can only see things getting worse from here on; the only good thing you know anymore is holding you and caressing your head so gently that it pushes your tears out for you. 

You’ll never get to see a movie in a theater, and smell the stale popcorn again. You’ll never drive down the highway with the wind in your hair. You’ll never ride a roller coaster or sing karaoke. You’ll never go to a club and have a drunken heart to heart with a stranger in a bathroom.

“Do you think it’s worth it?” You whisper, so faintly that it’s barely above a breath, your lips pressed to the shell of his ear. “To try to exist in a world where you have to pretend like you don’t exist?”

Eric pauses, holding you to him. You can see the wheels turning in his head, while he tries to figure out what to say. Then he turns his face to put his lips against your ear, the same way you’d done to him. 

“I think it’s worth it to try to survive.” His breath tickles your skin when he whispers, “So survive with me, yeah?”

You nod solemnly, your tears threatening to rise up again. “I can’t stand not talking to you.” It’s so hard to keep your voice from cracking, from rising above the merest hint of a whisper, directly to him and no one or nothing else. 

Eric takes it in stride. “You are talking to me.” He pulls back and bats his eyelashes, and you think, he oughta fucking know what that does to me. 

“Not like this,” you breathe to him, because that’s really what it is– it’s a breath. A sigh. A gust of air and nothing else, barely anything that registers on your vocal chords. Your hand on the back of his neck, pulling him close to you. His hand, tightening on the middle of your back, holding you there. “I want to talk– I want to get to know you.” 

“Well, this isn’t so bad, is it?” Eric turns his head. His forehead nudges yours at the temple, and you swear you see a flash of a smile on his face. “What do you want to know?” 

His forefinger traces up and down, up and down, a gentle pattern that keeps you grounded. You bite your lip, trying to keep from letting the sounds come out too loud. You say the first thing that comes to mind. “What’s your favorite song?”

“Easy Living. Billie Holiday.” 

“You’re kidding.” You’re blushing, hot in the cheeks. You’re imagining it; slow dancing in the kitchen with him while oldies plays on the radio. You didn’t think such an innocent question would send you spiraling like this, but it hurts worse to know that it will probably never happen.

“Absolutely not.” 

“Somehow… I can’t picture you listening to jazz.” 

“Picture it all you want,” he whispers. Eric swallows, and continues, “My granddad used to have these records, and we used to play them on Christmas. But when– when he died, the records went missing. I couldn’t find the song until a couple years ago,” he explains, and his voice cracks just slightly into a murmur. 

You both freeze. You wait for the sound of creatures coming down the hallway, busting down the walls… nothing happens. You let out a breath, and you pull his face closer to yours. His eyes flick over your face, and you put your lips against his ear. 

“You have to be so quiet. Can you do that for me?” Eric nods in your hands. “I wish we could do anything but this. I wish that we could have met in better circumstances. I wish… I wish I had known you before all of this. I think we would have had a lot of fun. But if this is the only way I can get to know you, and hear your voice now, I’ll take it.” You’re nodding as well now, like you’re trying to convince yourself of it. “I’m telling you this because I don’t know how long we have. Together, I mean. And I don’t want to waste it passing notes. Okay?” 

“Okay.” He sounds clipped. His hand fidgets on your back, and you pull away to find him misty-eyed, his brows turned up. He fishes for words that don’t come, and then he nods. “Okay.” 

Neither of you move. The atmosphere around you feels heavy, like it’s pressing in on all sides. Eric’s hand slides up your back and to your face, and you remember that you’re still holding his. You’re near sitting in his lap with how close you’ve become, and the realization of that feels like a punch to the gut.

You think you should pull away. You don’t. 

Eric’s thumb traces a gentle arc across your bottom lip. It’s so featherlight it’s barely there– his eyes are honed in on your mouth, clearly lost in thought. You’d let him stay there as long as he wants, but you want every minute you can get. “Eric–”

He closes the gap and kisses you. The way you’d said his name– or not said it, rather, you sort of mouthed it against his thumb– had done the job you wanted it to. It feels like this was the obvious conclusion to the system you’d worked out, the close proximity and your shared fears. He’s scared, he said as much last night. You’re scared, you said so just now. 

Nowhere to go, nothing else to do except be right here, living. Alive, together. Kissing Eric, and him pulling you close by the waist, so that you do swing your leg and seat yourself in his lap. And as much as you love talking, and it breaks your heart that you can’t jabber at him, there are some things you just can’t put into words. Like the way that his hand on the back of your neck lights you up inside, or that you can’t think of anything other than all the areas where his skin is touching yours, and how you suddenly wish there was way more of them.

It’s stupid how much you like him already, really. You can feel your nonexistent friends clucking their tongues and shaking their heads, saying, “One day? That’s all it takes? You find some guy at the end of the world and you fall in love in 24 hours?” And they’d be right– maybe it’s not love. Not yet, anyways. But you could see it easily becoming that. And that fact scares you even more.

Your hands find Eric’s chest and the frantic beating of his heart tells you nearly the same thing. You break the kiss, trying to quietly catch your breath without gasping like you’re half-drowning. It’s harder than you expected. 

“Been wanting to do that all morning,” Eric whispers. And just like that you’re falling again, faster this time, like he’s just melted your wings right off and sent you plummeting.

You struggle to keep from gasping aloud when he kisses your jaw, just beneath your ear. It’s the lightest touch but you swear it burns, sears your skin. 

Your hands find the back of the couch, twitchy fingers digging in to keep you steady. Your mouth finds his again, his tongue tasting of coffee, and Eric kisses you a bit harder now, a bit sloppier. 

Breaking away, you open your eyes to find his wide, starstruck, his mouth hanging open like he’s been shocked beyond belief. You didn’t honestly intend for this to happen– you wanted to talk. But somehow this seems better, more appropriate. 

How do you get your feelings across when talking isn’t really an option? When innocent attraction becomes… whatever this is? 

You press a single finger to his plush lips, signaling exactly what you mean without a word. Quiet. 

Eric purses his lips, kisses your finger without breaking eye contact. His pupils are blown out so far that the barest hint of golden brown surrounds them, glinting in the sunlight from the window. 

You lean forward, until your mouth touches his ear. “Your eyes are so fucking pretty, Eric,” you whisper to him, and your teeth latch onto his earlobe to tug gently. You can’t help it– you grind your hips down into his lap, without even thinking of doing it. “You’re so pretty.”

Eric whimpers. It’s a soft sound, hollow in the back of his throat, but it’s still too loud for the world that you’re in. You clamp your hand down over his mouth, and his breath comes out sharp and hot over your knuckles as he tries to regain composure.

“Do you want me to stop?” You ask him, whispering gently in his ear. Against you, he shakes his head no. “Want me to keep going?” Eric nods his head yes. 

He’s shaking under you, his fingertips digging into your lower back like he can’t hold onto you hard enough. At the thought, your pulse pounds, blood positively humming through your veins. 

You nuzzle his cheek, and give him the sweetest kiss you can while your hand is still clamped over his mouth insistently. “You have to be. Fucking. Silent. Do you understand?” He nods. “We can’t make a sound. Okay?” 

Eric nods again, and keeps nodding until you let him go. If the rain was still pouring like earlier, you could tell him how much you want him, too. How you don’t want to be mean, you just don’t want to get hurt. This is a bad idea, all things considered. But Eric slides his hand down and cups your ass to lift you up a bit, and the words bad and idea suddenly fucking vanish from your vocabulary.

You stand long enough to kick off your sweats, your day old panties going down with them. You hadn’t dressed to be sexy yesterday, you dressed to get groceries. You don’t necessarily want Eric to see your faded cotton underwear with the stretched out elastic and multiple frayed holes. You don’t think it would add to your sex appeal right now. 

He doesn’t notice the lack of a strip tease– he’s already taking you by the hips, not even waiting for you to shuck your t-shirt. He pulls until you’re stood in front of him, and then hooks your leg over his shoulder. 

So. Eric doesn’t need to be asked to go down on you, he just does. The gentleman. His hands are firm on your ass as he nuzzles into the patch of hair between your legs, and the precarious balancing act makes you snatch onto the back of the couch again. 

His tongue glides through the folds of your pussy slowly, methodically. You aren’t sure if he wants to take his time, or if he’s going slow so that he doesn’t make too much noise when doing it, but he latches onto your clit and sucks agonizingly softly, like he knows he should do it harder but won’t risk making you moan. 

It’s so gentle, and it builds. Pretty soon, you’re having a tough time keeping your whimpers in, even when he’s basically just teasing you, flicking his tongue over your clit with even the barest pressure. Your head has fallen back on your shoulders, your hand now clasped over your own mouth to stifle your sighs. 

Then, Eric’s hand glides up to splay across your lower back, and he sucks long and hard at your clit, and your hand squeezes murderously at the back of the couch while you ride out your orgasm on his tongue. 

Knees buckling, you collapse into Eric’s lap. He has a doe-eyed look on his face that’s way too innocent after what he just did to you. With panting breath and shaking hands, you cup his rosy cheeks in your palms, shaking your head in disbelief. 

Eric’s brows tilt in worry, like he did something wrong. He opens his mouth, but you put your fingers against his lips to silence him, and lean forward to breathe, “You’re too sweet for me, Eric.” 

He traces his fingers lightly up your spine, and turns his head. “Maybe one day I won’t have to be sweet. Maybe then I can really fuck you.” 

The sound of his whispering voice in your ear makes you shiver, your lust reaching a boiling point. The idea of him really fucking you– that this isn’t even him as normal, that he’s having to hold so much back– makes you burn hot all at once. That this isn’t something he’s planning on doing once. That there’s a ‘one day’ that he sees in the future with you in it. 

With a nod, your breath catches in your throat. You find your way to his mouth again, kissing him desperately. You can taste yourself lingering on his lips, and your hips rock forward against his again. 

Eric inhales sharply, stifling his own moan. You guess you have to take it just as slowly as he did, ease him into it. You work your hand beneath his unbuttoned fly and palm him, keeping your touch gentle against his hot skin. He shakes, his hands laid out against your spine, his eyes sparkling when he looks up at you. 

You push your forehead against his as you sink onto his cock, letting yourself adjust to his size. His breath stutters as he tries to keep quiet, small puffs of air spilling out and meeting your electrified skin. You curl your fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck, rocking your hips just barely, settling into his lap. 

This is more intimate than you can ever remember being with anyone, but right now it just feels right. Maybe it could be cathartic to fuck like a couple of animals in the face of doom, but Eric pulls your body flush against his, one strong forearm around your waist, and his nose nudges yours, and you think this is better. This is what you both need. Closeness. Sweetness. 

There isn’t a lot of movement– you can’t risk it. You and Eric seem to be in agreement on that, because as soon as you start trying to move in earnest, he just pulls you back to him, his arm around your waist and his hand petting the back of your head. 

Eric rocks his hips up into yours slowly, deeply, and it’s the depth of it and the slow sensuality that keeps you floating. Your clit catches on the patch of hair at the base of his cock each time you roll your hips with him, and you have to kiss him to keep from keening aloud. He doesn’t seem to mind it. 

You know he’s close when he tucks his face against your neck, his arm tightening around you. “Feels so fucking good,” comes his whine in your ear, and you gently shush him, your hand resting on the back of his head to keep him muffled against your shoulder. You want so badly to look at his face when he cums, but there’s that pesky issue of staying alive, and that hinges on whether or not he can keep quiet when he does. 

To his credit, he bites your shoulder and only whimpers a little bit. It’s just a squeak, but really, he could have been much louder about it, and then you would have both been in trouble. Imagine having to run for your life with your pants down. 

Ever the gentleman, he keeps you there even after he’s spent and sensitive, his hand clamped down on your thigh to prevent you from moving. His thumb finds your clit, and he lifts his head to watch you, his hooded eyes trained on your face as he brings you to the edge and over it again. He watches the way your brows tilt up, the way you struggle to keep your own eyes open, and the silent moan that threatens to break past your parted lips.

Eric claps his hand down over your mouth before it can. Your eyes fly open, your cunt clenches down around him, and he bares his teeth as you cum hard. It’s cyclical, comes in waves as he continues to stroke you through it, as he keeps his hand clamped down on your mouth to keep you quiet. 

To keep you quiet. 

Feverish and exhausted, you come down with your chest against his, Eric’s head flopped back onto the backrest of the couch. Your knees fucking hurt and you have yet to get off of him, and you sort of dread the moment when you have to. But this means your mouth is positioned right next to Eric’s ear, and you’re nothing if not a talker.

“Eric?” you whisper, and he turns his head just enough to let you know he heard you. “I’m glad that I met you when I did. Even if it’s terrible timing, I’m glad we met.”

A sweet, tired smile flits across Eric’s beautiful face. He nudges his nose against your temple. “I’m glad, too.” 

You shift off of him, and he squeezes your thigh just at the same time as he scrunches his face. He’s such a trooper about it, you kiss his cheek as you go, leaning over to grab a pair of earphones from the coffee table. 

You hand one ear bud to him, watching as confusion crosses his face. He watches you type on your phone as he tucks the bud into his ear, and you the other. 

On low volume, you listen to the soft piano and saxophone intro to an old jazz standard. Eric grins, his hand finding your cheek before he pulls you in for a kiss. 

And then, Billie Holiday’s voice plays for only you two to hear. 

Living for you is easy living, It’s easy to live when you’re in love And I’m so in love, There’s nothing in life but you.

[thejakeformerlyknownasprince]

Now I have to ask- WHY do you hate Pacific Rim?

Okay, fair warning, this is about as bitter and salty and small-minded as day-old caviar. But. My bitter, salty (probably fishy) opinion:

Pacific Rim is only a good movie because it's a well-written story about robots punching monsters.

That's it. That's all there is to the movie.

I started out merely disappointed by Pacific Rim. We went gaga for the preview materials that promised these unique well-rounded character pairs and trios with these idiosyncratic robots from all these different Pacific nations... And then the movie itself is about some bland white American guy who pilots a robot named a racial slur, the second most fleshed-out team is bland white Australian guys, and the Chinese team is there, kind of, in the background, but don't worry they're going to die first. The "character-driven story" turned out to be "various characters take turns punching aliens" but, sure, whatever, I love the MCU so why not.

The day I went from "Pacific Rim is overrated" to "Pacific Rim is the worst thing that has ever happened to human civilization, I'm extremely normal about this" was the day I saw a Tumblr post suggesting we replace the Bechdel test with the Mako Mori test. Because Mako Mori has her own plot and doesn't kiss North Carolina at the end, making her a whole new type of feminist icon.

To which I was like:

We are talking about the same movie here, right? The Pacific Rim that can't even pass the Bechdel test? The Pacific Rim that's all about might-makes-right, the Pacific Rim that has ONE speaking role for ONE female character in its (from IMDB) 50-person cast? The Pacific Rim that repeatedly puts its only female character in danger and has her rescued by first Idris Elba then North Carolina? THAT Pacific Rim?

Is there a different Mako Mori I haven't met? Because the one I've seen a) has a character arc driven by deciding whether to obey her father or follow her heart, which is as inoffensive and stale as an unblessed communion wafer, b) does nothing that Ellen Ripley didn't do 30 years earlier, but with about 5% of the character depth Ripley got, and c) stands there in silence looking sad as two men punch each other over the question of her virtue.

Any post assuming this movie invented the idea of "small Asian woman kicks monster ass" needs to learn its damn history. Especially the ones acting like her being physically small is somehow a feminist bonus. There's something embarrassingly ahistorical about the whole thing.

And look. I get how we got here. I know how easily Tumblr backs you into a rhetorical corner of "calling a story Good can never mean merely 'enjoyable'; calling a story Good must mean 'virtuous'". Until next thing you know you're arguing that actually, shipping Obi-Wan/Darth Vader is a net good for all of society, because gay divorced middle-aged tyrants who use supplemental oxygen and murdered their exes in a custody dispute over the one kid (out of two) they actually care about deserve to see themselves in sci fi too! You only end up in that corner because half the time you're arguing against someone who says that shipping Obi-Wan/Darth Vader is literally the same thing as supporting father-son incest, so your real reasons for shipping them (1. foe yay, 2. old man yaoi) seem wildly insufficient.

Much of what I see about Pacific Rim seems neck-deep in the "it's not allowed to be a Good Movie unless it single-handedly dismantles the patriarchy" fallacy. There's nothing progressive about shipping two dudes best known for chopping off each other's body parts with laser swords. And there's nothing progressive about a movie having its only female character hug the male protagonist at the end instead of kissing him. You're allowed to like a thing just because it's well-made, without acting like a bog-standard normatively-broey action flick somehow invented a new form of feminism. Anyway, "Pacific Rim is a perfectly fine movie" is the hill I will die upon, heretical though it may be.

[amalthea-13]

The Octavia Dilemma (Vent/Rant Post)

TW: Divorce

I want to make it abundantly clear that this post is about myself and my feelings on Via. This does not reflect the greater fandom or all Stolas Stans.

This is a reflection of my feelings and my feelings alone. Do not utilize this post to generalize all Stolas Stans since many of them are going to agree with about 60% of my post and I'm fine with that.

Moving on,

Hello everyone! It is I, Amalthea, the Ultimate Stolas Kinnie and Stan, reporting to you live on a topic I was initially going to not talk about, but became more compelled to talk about since well- I didn't want to talk about Stella. (I'd rather not lol)

When it comes to Octavia and her rejecting Stolas I have very, very mixed feelings on the topic. While many of you may think she was right or wrong, I'm going to give you the perspective from a person who lived this stuff during my preteens.

I won't go into details, but my parental unit picked another person over my family. Parent A decided to pick Person C over Parent B and that will never not mess me up till this day.

When Parent A left, I was alone without the only thing I wanted, closure. I didn't understand why I was abandoned. I didn't understand how Parent A just thought I didn't matter anymore.

Parent B had to struggle and I just had to- watch morbidly as my world fell apart.

One of the things I absolutely can't agree with Octavia doing is walking away from Stolas when he came back to her.

She has this entire speech, victimizing herself solely(not faulting her for it, just stating it), and not asking the question why and that is where I will say the Hellaverse team failed. Kids of divorce always ask the question why. We seek a reason and yet Octavia just makes baseless accusations at Stolas that hold no water.

I mean your father, the man who has stood by your side, and loved on you for ages suddenly has an affair with a strange imp from his past and you don't even- think to ask why? Or let him explain?

Octavia willingly parentified herself to cope, which again as someone who is parentified, that makes no sense to me. Parentification happens when no one is around to help you or support you, but Octavia had her dad right fucking there. She rejected him, and seemingly can't understand he's depressed???

Again, I am speaking for myself, but this entire rant of hers makes no sense to me. She's seen him light up around Blitz, be more open (maybe to open), and be happier, but doesn't acknowledge it???

My issue, a reminder I am talking about myself , with Octavia is she makes everything solely about herself and asks no important questions about her father. I know she is a rich girl, but she is shown to be empathetic and kind overall, so it feels out of character she doesn't even- try to understand. Even if it's hard.

When Parent A came back into my life I begged for a reason why. Why the hell did you leave!? What did Person C have that I didn't!? Why did you raise their child you didn't birth but not me!? What did I do wrong!? What was so bad you left!?

None of these questions were asked, Octavia goes straight to making accusations which makes no sense. The fact she expected Blitz to die??? Like Loona wasn't going to be fatherless??? Like she's 17. Via is a bright and smart girl. Did she really look down on Blitz that much??? (genuine question, not tryna be a smart ass)

Octavia: You lied to me.

Stolas: What?

Octavia: *pushes Stolas away* You lied to me! You said you would never leave me! You promised!

Stolas: Via. I-I didn't leave you I-I- I would never, it wasn't my choice.

Octavia: It was your choice. You chose HIM!

I also think this whole scene is why Stolas made the choice he made. While he had an inclination he could die- he knew his privilege could possibly save him. It's why he was a bit confused and not sure of what was going to happen.

He was hanging onto the hope he'd not die. Afterwards the reality sets in as to what he had just done and what he truly lost. Stolas took a risk on a hunch.

The man had no choice. As a father, as a person, as a soulmate, he was in an impossible situation where he had to use his privilege. He had no other option or Loona would be fatherless.

Stolas: Via, no! I didn't I just- I had to. You don't understand.

Octavia: *clenches fist as magic forms* I do understand! I understand that we were never enough for you! You never loved mother, and you don't love me, you love him. *holds up happy pills* And you needed THESE! Was this my fault that you needed these?

Stolas: No! No, never Via! *grabs Octavia's hands* Sweetie, please. You have always been the only good thing in my life!

Octavia: So does that mean you just stayed miserable because of me? *tearing up* Was I some fucking obligation? Is that why you didn't even hesitate when you got a chance to leave?

This next part always pisses me off because Via's expectation of her father are so high. That he cannot have autonomy outside of their family. She is so attached at the hip to him that anytime he deviates from loving her entirely it is a slight against her.

Also the obligation part of that statement boils my blood, because girl- you don't even know what it is like to have your parent look at you and tell you to your face "you're just a responsibility to me". Because I lived that shit. I lived knowing Parent A didn't want me because I was just to much.

Stolas stayed and loved on this girl. He gave her the whole universe and more and somehow that isn't enough.

Of course I sympathize with the sentiment, but nothing in Stolas's behavior nor him being with Blitz suggests she was ever solely an obligation to him.

If Stolas truly viewed her as a responsibility he wouldn't show any concern for her. Parent A in my life acted distant and emotionally withdrawn. They didn't take care of me anymore, acting like a ghost of their former self. They took care of my most basiepc and fundamental needs while Octavia is borderline spoiled and-

FUCK why couldn't I have that!? She sits there and complains but her parent came back for her?! She had a chance at closure and denied it! What kid of divorce does that!? What person does that?!

I know I shouldn't have this much turmoil over this. I really shouldn't. If anything I should be sympathizing with her entirely. Theoretically I should hate Stolas, but I can't because I know what it's like to be guilted for choosing yourself! I know what it's like to be forced to feel bad for being depressed! It's why I love Stolas so much and understand him completely.

But when it comes to Via, the character who borderline mimics my trauma I just- can't fully empathize. I can rationalize her thinking and- understand where it may stem from, but it still leaves me aggravated and unsatisfied.

While I may be ranting and rambling at this point- I may just be projecting and it's why I said to not take this post as something to generalize the collective- but I am thoroughly dissatisfied with Octavia's writing.

So much of it tries to mimic divorce related trauma, but none of what she has been through would initiate such a response.

She hasn't been abandoned, her father is right there.

She isn't an obligation, all of her needs are met and she gets all she wants along with a nurturing environement.

She was enough for her father, he came back for her. If she wasn't enough he'd never come back.

All of the claims she makes are easily debunked with rational thinking and do not make sense when you have lived through divorce yourself. Again, I can be projecting, but FUCK I needed to vent about this.

It just feels like such a fickle iteration of what real divorce looks like for us.

Ask Box is Open ofc.

[yanderes-galore]

Heyyyy can I request romanticly Lloyd Garmadon×reader, Prompts 1 and 4 because I can really see Lloyd also being an yandere who would sacrifice the world for their darlin

I didn't realize how much trauma Lloyd went through until I watched a video on it... Oml man is NOT okay.....

Yandere! Lloyd Garmadon Prompts 1 + 4

"I'd burn this world and everything in it for you."

"My heart belongs to you, I'll adore anything you do to it."

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Overprotective behavior, Possessive behavior, Unhealthy coping mechanisms/attachment, Threats, Clingy behavior, Kidnapping, Attachment issues, Dubious turned forced relationship.

The child who is not embraced by the village will burn it down to feel its warmth

Lloyd has never experienced proper love. Lloyd hasn't even experienced a proper childhood. He was instead forced to take the mantle of hero at a young age... forced to fight evils no normal person should face...

Of course he wasn't going to be okay.

Lloyd's biggest fear is becoming like his father. He knows he's done horrible things in the past and he still can't forgive himself. He's witnessed many he's cared about die... He's watched himself harm others.

So, of course, the moment he feels anything positive... It's normal to latch on, right?

When Lloyd met you, he was hesitant to get attached. He's so used to being used or watching those he cares about get hurt.... The moment you're kind he panics a bit.

But over time... Your kindness feels genuine.

It's the one thing he's always wanted... Genuine love.

Love to someone who has never had it is an addicting thing. It's such a foreign yet familiar thing to him. Yours is so warm and sweet.

However... The problem with addiction is this...

Addicts will do anything to get another hit.

Lloyd's attachment to you was because you paid attention to him. You saw past his heroic acts... and his not so heroic acts.... Lloyd felt you saw him for himself.

Unfortunately... It didn't seem like you were ready for his strengthening attachment.

You saw Lloyd as a friend. Maybe even a sibling due to what he's gone through. You wanted to comfort him... support him...

But it seems you were just making him worse....

To Lloyd, it didn't matter what happened to him or anyone else when it came to you. As he was around you, he found himself unable to be away from you. Even when you asked for distance... He was unable to give it.

Why would you want distance anyways...? Is he not good enough? Does he scare you? Are you going to leave him?

He'd do anything to prevent that.

The moment you try to drift away or distance yourself, Lloyd just tugs you back. He's never far from you. He's always dedicated... scared you'll leave if he doesn't.

"My heart belongs to you, I'll adore anything you do to it."

He says such words like a prayer to you. Like it's a promise he'd come back no matter what you did. You were not a fool to his feelings... You just knew you could never reciprocate them.

He'd never stop loving you though.

It didn't matter how you loved him. Lloyd would always love you. As long as you give him attention, as long as you look at him, he'll take anything.

He'll be forever loyal...

He'll sacrifice anything...

As long as you're there to hold him. As long as you won't ever leave. As long as you're his...

He could care less how you see him... and he could care less if the world suffers for it at this point.

Lloyd may be a hero. However, to him, you always come first. Lloyd doesn't know what he'd do without you.

He'd sacrifice anything and everything if it meant you'd be all his. He'd cling to you even more if it meant he'd secure you. It didn't matter what it took...

"I'd burn this world and everything in it for you." Lloyd had said that to you to show you his desperation. You had suggested to take a break from one another, to be away from each other. The implication hurt...

Yet Lloyd was willing to wait as long as it took... and sacrifice everything... just to keep you to himself one way or another.

Sure, you can have some space for now... but he'll always be back by your side eventually.

Doesn't he deserve something good for once? Doesn't he deserve to be selfish? He's been forced to be hero for so long....

Lloyd's biggest fear is no longer becoming his father. His biggest fear is being alone. When you threaten to put distance between you and him...

Suddenly... being a bit of a villain doesn't seem so bad... Maybe he should just... drag you to be beside him forever...

As long as it means he's never alone... maybe he should give into his villainous roots.

[neoameba]

During the rain.

Toji Fushiguro x GN!reader

N/A: Minors can safely interact with this post. There are only slightly suggestive things, at most +14. In this story, Toji didn't die in the fight against Satoru, and he also didn't sell Megumi to the Zen'in clan.There are mentions of aggressive storms, which can be triggering, be warned.

Summary: As someone who took care of Toji's son for so long while little Megumi was still a little boy, you've developed the habit of taking care of the boy even when it's no longer necessary. Whether it's because he's home alone late at night, or because he's too exhausted to make his own food, you're always there for him, it was a promise from you to Toji. What you didn't expect is that this time, the man remembered that he has a son, and he remembered that he has you.

It was raining. This has never been a problem for you when you want to see your adopted child. It's not like he's actually your son, but you consider him after so many years of taking care of Megumi. You walked calmly through the streets of the neighborhood with your umbrella, especially because the night was too pleasant to end so quickly.

Arriving at Megumi's house, you carefully look at everything around you. You don't know what you're looking for, but still, your eyes wander everywhere. Nothing unusual is seen, so you simply enter the house, using the key Megumi gave you to open the door.

As you enter and close the door, you notice the boy lying on the couch. He was exhausted, it was visible. He probably had an exhausting day due to the missions given to him. That's exactly why you're not a jujutsu sorcerer, it's a lot of work. You leave the umbrella closed and supported on the door, and calmly walk towards the boy, sitting on the arm of the sofa to see the younger Fushiguro's face. The two remain silent, because that is enough for them to understand each other. A hand is placed in Megumi's hair, who closes his eyes and just enjoys it, without saying anything. He really missed this affection.

"Have you eaten yet? I can prepare something for you if you want.” You say quietly and in a soft tone.

"it is not necessary." He doesn't want to admit he likes your food, but you know he likes it.

You let out a low laugh as you watch Megumi slowly fall asleep. But something intrigues you. Although there was no presence of curses or anything like that, the feeling of being watched was bothering you, and although you know someone who has these characteristics, you can't imagine why Toji Fushiguro would be there. Of course, it was his house (which, interestingly enough, he doesn't pay rent, it's you and Megumi who pays), but you can't imagine the man coming home, he's only been back twice to date... and he definitely didn't stay that long.

Either way, you decide to see whose tall, sturdy figure in the corner of the wall it is. It doesn't take long to realize that Toji is really there. At first, you don't know what to feel. You don't know whether to be angry that the man abandoned his own son, or whether to be happy to see that at least he remembers you two.

"Hmph, I thought you abandoned him with me. At least you remembered that you have a son." You can't help but scold him, although it's something calmer and softer, because you also understand his side. Losing the love of your life must be horrible, but it doesn't justify abandoning your own son. Because it is past the time when he should have matured and understood that what happened in the past should not interfere with the future.

However, he remains silent, his wet, almost dry hair betrays that he has been here for a long time, perhaps before you even entered the house. Seeing the man's silence, you just sigh and go to Megumi again, you don't want to pressure Toji, but it's complicated. What you would never expect is for Toji to come close, close enough to put his arm around you. You don't say anything, although you smile softly now. He looked at Megumi with a look that was difficult to decipher, he seemed more thoughtful than ever, while Megumi slept peacefully, unaware that his father was there.

"...He has some of his mother's traits." Toji says, in a low voice. The man rarely talked about the woman he married and gave birth to Megumi, so this sentence was somewhat surprising.

"She was a beautiful woman." You give him a tiny smile, just enough for him to see. You stayed like that for long minutes, the raindrops dripped heavily on the window, showing that a storm was happening, but that didn't scare you. Although, of course, the chances of the neighborhood's power going out are high-

The light went out.

Yeah, it looks like tonight is going to be very interesting with an aggressive storm and the entire house without power. You are slightly startled by the light suddenly going out, but there is nothing to worry about. Toji no longer looks thoughtful, although you can't see his face and can only feel his hand on your shoulder. And speaking of that hand... It moves towards your waist, leaving you feeling a little euphoric.

"...I'm going to take Megumi to bed, it's getting cold in here..."

You wanted it to continue, obviously. But with Megumi on your side it would be weird, very weird. And you didn't lie, it was getting cold, and you could never let your adopted son get sick. Toji doesn't say anything, just watches you (even in the dark) take the boy in your arms with ease and take him to his room. It was so easy to pick him up, maybe because he was so light, or maybe because you already had practice.

As soon as you make Megumi comfortable on the bed and close the door, two strong arms gently slide around you to hug you from behind. Even though you don't see him, you're not even scared of it anymore, to be honest. You just let Toji hug you while smiling softly. The two of you don't have a serious relationship, dating or getting married, but you still have each other. The rain makes the moment even more romantic.

Even if you two don't have anything serious due to Toji's personal problems, it's still important to mention how much he cares about you. Although it doesn't seem like much since he rarely appears at home, you still know deep in your heart that he loves you and he loves Megumi too, since he placed the boy in the care of someone so special for him.

[reggieswriter]

@a-t1r3d-b1s3xual, congratulations! You've been selected as the first person that's connected to a character of my choice!

Your character is The Black Brothers!

Regulus Black and why? :

You are similar to him a couple different ways but not confined to his character all the way.

The way you cope with some things. Instead of getting loud and shouting when hurt or using your fists you get quiet. Calculated. You use this to your advantage. Your quick tongue and witty mind are quiet but strong and when someone hurts you or crosses a line you may not tell them directly but you definitely ensure they know they fucked up. You don't let them get away with it. You show them through your words and not your actions.

Words of Affirmation. Your love language is through words. When clearly not hearing enough of the support and especially not seeing it hearing someone reassure you or even make a promise and follow through is big for you. You've learned people's words aren't always what they mean and that's fine but you also take people by their word more because of this. If someone says they'll do something you expect it to be done. This also applies to when you need support. Even if as little as someone says "I'm here for you." It means a lot. Even if you don't directly show it via actions you show this through your words. "Words have power." Is something you live by without even realizing it at times.

Sirius Black and why? :

Being Sirius Black is one thing but having these attributes is another.

You care deeply for the community you find. If you find the people you love and trust you care for these people. Caring and loving someone is a large difference and you realize that. The people you surround yourself with know you care for them deeply and trust them. Whether it be the larger things everyone notices or the smaller things you think no one notices. You care for these people and that means you fight for them. If someone you love is hurting you find a way to help no matter the means or yourself. This could be a positive attribute or a fatal flaw. Without realizing you make yourself out to be a tragic hero.

Your opinion matters and you know it. Sometimes you have days where you'll let people take the reigns. Perhaps even bite your tongue. But when someone oversteps or you feel an injustice has occurred you might the fire that paves the way for others to walk. You're strong when it comes to justice and equality. You will die on your hill. Especially if it affects your loved ones. You will fight until you die. Your opinions are clear and refreshing and you're always looking for a better solution.

It's so easy for you to care and love others yet you can't seem to find it in yourself to love yourself. The people you love know that you love them. In your own way you show it. Even with all of their flaws you love them. But when you look in the mirror you can't seem to love yourself and your flaws that make you, you. You tend to get stuck in your own head and curse yourself for making the smallest of mistakes. You won't admit this to anyone for fear of being selfish. You know it's not right but you can't find it in yourself to care anymore.

Both of them and why? :

"I love today!" "Let me sleep off my life."

Emotions are constantly high. Your emotions are always clear. They are strangely so straightforward that it's hard to make sense of them. Especially if you feel like you have no reason for that emotion. It's okay to feel. What's not okay is to make yourself feel bad for things you may or may not be able to control. We all have bad days and that includes you. Let yourself feel everything just don't allow it to swallow you whole until you feel nothing again.

A/N : Ilysmmm!! I told you I'd do this at some point and I'm coming for all of you! 💋. I specifically started with you because yours felt the most raw in the moment and honestly you were my first friend that I truly trusted! I love you so much and if you ever need anything don't be afraid to ask!

Tags : @aesthetic-writer18 , @n1xxi3 , @sweetest-thing-in-hell

[fernandomagicalonsomanydances]

Back again to rank my latest feelings for the F1 Grid

Carlos Sainz Jr. - this will never change I will love him until I die I do not care what car he drives he will be my fav top step or DNF. I am the definition of ride or die when it comes to this absolutely pure wholesome hottie whose character somehow manages to outshine his good looks which is saying something given he literally looks like a fairytale prince

Fernando Alonso - can't have sweet without the spicy and I love this filterless agent of chaos whose persistence and ability to outperform his car throughout his career have made him the legend that he is

George Russell - a wholesome little crumpet who I would die for. He's so sweet and sincere while simultaneously being posh and classy. I love it all the more because his background is pretty working class

Esteban Ocon - speaking of working class gotta round out my trio of drivers with humble origins with the one who worked his way up on the sacrifice and belief of his family. Ocon is a working class hero and I will be an Estie Bestie perpetually unless he fucks up Ollie. This is his last chance to not lash out at a teammate because he'll clearly have the position of seniority at Haas next year so no reasons to fight Ollie Bear. If he hurts Ollie I may have to give him up but it will be painful and I will cry about it.

Oscar Piastri - I love pastries and Oscar is no exception. He's absolutely showing all the potential to be a legend of his generation. He's the second coming of Kimi Raikkonen and I'm here for it. Also much like Carlos and George he has absolutely impeccable gentleman vibes and because he's Aussie it comes across even a little more down to earth, like if he cycled past while you were having a flat tire or something he'd stop and try to help

Ollie Bearman - yes I know technically he isn't on the grid but like I lost Logan this week so let me have this. He's a sweet wholesome little nugget who I would die for. Just a little floof. And he's a promising little floof too!

Charles Leclerc - the more I watch this sport the more I realize that the Leclerc haters are insane when they say he's only popular because he's attractive and drives a Ferrari. The man is a bloody good race car driver and that's enough as is. His looks and his loyalty to the prancing horse are just bonuses.

Sergio Perez - help me Sergio Kenobi you're my only hope SO PLEASE START CLOSING THAT GAP BETWEEN YOU AND MAX it's embarrassing and I do NOT need him losing that seat because then who will I root for as a "home" driver. I've lost Logan, if I lose you too Checo I will have to switch to a different continent because I REFUSE to support the Canadian Nepo Baby who's wasting a perfectly good seat that someone else could be making much better use of

Max Verstappen - my brother in trauma. I swear I have the most sibling-core feelings for Max. As in I love and support him but also can't stand to see him win all the time. I cannot compliment him without adding some spice of insult to the compliment. We're two traumatized kids from different families with hard ass dads. Hence why on a personal level Max is probably like #3 for me. I'm very emotionally attached to that Dutch menace but I don't want to see him win more than 3 or 4 races a year

Daniel Ricciardo - if I lose Checo I will be claiming the man whose speech to his younger self wakes me up every morning as my home racer because good lawd he loves Texas lol. And who can have a top ten of drivers and NOT include the ray of fucking sunshine that is Danny Ric. He just fills the world with joy and tomfoolery

[amomentsescape]

Jason is my comfor character so can I request a Jason x reader who comes crying to him cause when she talks to her parents about what upsets her they always blame them for their own feelings and fight starts so their scared to discuss feelings with them and they're mom can't follow through on plans with her cause her job makes her too tired and its always something and they made a plan to visit extended family for a long time then it gets postponed for a long time again and then forgotten about and the only time they seen their extended family on both sides was near there birthday at a funeral when a cousin killed themselves and it feels they can only see their family when someone kills themselves

A Promise to You

Jason Voorhees x Reader

Summary: A fight with their parents drives Reader to see Jason: the one person they know they can rely on.

Warnings: Angst then fluff, mentions of family member suicide

Word Count: 1,136

A/N: Comfort characters are incredibly important, so I hope I wrote him in a light that lines up with what you wanted. Sending you all the love <3

You could feel that familiar burn make its way into your stomach. Your eyes were already watering too despite trying your best to hold them back.

"We'll try to see them next year sometime, okay?" your mother said, her eyes still glued to her phone.

You swallowed roughly and looked down at your hands, noticing the dry skin beside your nails.

Nasty habit, you thought.

"I haven't seen them in so long," you finally responded quietly.

You could hear your father let out a sigh at this.

"Nothin' we can do about it. You'll be fine."

Your eyes began to water once more.

"But the last time the whole family was together was-"

"Near your birthday," your mother cut you off, still refusing to look directly at you.

You looked back at her face, trying to focus on anything other than breaking down right then and there. You tried to steady your breathing.

There was a time when your mother actually tried to talk to you and spend time with you. Although now, that felt like a dream, something that never actually happened.

"It was at my cousin's funeral," you whispered.

Both of your parents looked up at you. Finally.

"Right," was all that was said.

You knew deep down that this conversation was going to end up nowhere, but there was still a part of you that hoped maybe this would be the time they'd actually listen. Maybe this time they'd care.

"It just seems like someone has to die for us to actually see everyone again," you responded a little louder than before.

Whatever hope you had held onto was immediately diminished at your mother rolling her eyes and your father scoffing.

"Jesus, (Y/N). It's not our fault that happened-"

"I'm not saying it was," you shot back. The energy in the room was starting to become uncomfortable.

"Okay, then stop acting like it is!"

You took a deep breath in. "I'm just trying to tell you how I'm feel-"

"How about you do that without blaming us for all of your problems?!" your mother snapped. "It's not our fault the trip was canceled. It's not that big of a deal!"

You could feel your patience wearing thin.

"I'm sorry that the idea of spending time with my family sounded nice for a change! Especially when my own mother won't even acknowledge me when she gets home from work!"

"Do NOT speak to her like that!" your father yelled, his face turning red.

Your mother just looked at you, anger filling in her eyes.

"You don't know what it's like to be exhausted from a full-time job!"

"Well, if I had a child, I would still try to make time for them instead of canceling every plan just because I have to work!"

"Are you saying I'm a bad mother?!"

"You're barely a mother at all when you won't even talk to me!"

Your father stood up at this, walking towards you with a scowl painted on his face.

"Why do you always have to be so goddamn sensitive all the time?! You're not a baby! You don't need us to support you 24/7. You need to learn to grow up!"

At this point, your cheeks were already soaked from all the tears spilled. Your throat ached at trying to hold back the sobs, and you could feel your hands shaking by your sides.

But the worst part wasn't even how pathetic you felt in that moment, crying in the middle of your living room. It was the fact that your parents just stood there staring at you with a look of anger and disappointment etched into their features. You didn't feel loved in that moment- you felt despised.

You didn't want to be here anymore. You needed to get out of that environment before the heavy air suffocated you.

Despite the protests of your parents, you ran out the front door of the home and let your feet take you where they wanted to go.

You didn't know how much time had gone by. It could have been minutes, hours, you didn't care. You knew what you needed, and it was him.

You finally stopped running once the front door to the cabin was right in front of you.

Without even needing to knock, Jason opened the door, his head tilted at why you were there. Not that he wasn't happy to see you, he had just made a rule that you wouldn't go lurking into these woods at night. It wasn't safe for you.

But this worry went out the door the moment he saw your tear stained cheeks and the deep frown carved onto your lips.

He pulled you inside immediately, sitting you down beside him on the couch.

Without even thinking, he wrapped himself around you. And this is what seemed to break the dam.

Your sobs muffled into his chest, and you could feel his arms tighten around your frame. He was almost frightened of what had made you this upset.

He let you cry into him for a bit longer before pulling you back, checking over your body to make sure you weren't physically hurt. When he felt confident you were fine, his eyes met yours and he gave you a questioning look.

You moved your gaze to your lap.

"M-my parents," your voice broke.

Jason seemed to immediately know what you meant by this. Unfortunately, this wasn't the first time that something bad had gone down with your parents. As much as he wanted to take away this problem for good, he knew that you would never allow it. You still loved them at the end of the day.

"They j-just never listen to me," you sniffled. "I just wish they'd h-hear me out for once..."

Jason put his hand on the side of your face, wiping away the new tears that continued to spill from your eyes.

He took your own hand gently in his free one, placing it over his chest. It was what he did whenever he wanted to reassure you or tell you that he loves you.

This managed to get a little smile from you.

No matter what happened, Jason was always there for you. He was the one person you knew who would hear you out and never judge. It was why this was the one place your feet decided to carry you to when your own home felt like too much.

"I don't know what I'd do without you," you whispered to him.

You could see his eyes brighten under his mask at this. He nodded as if to say he felt the same.

He couldn't prevent these things from occurring, but Jason promised to always be there to pick you up. And Jason doesn't break his promises.

[madfantasy]

To fan art and fiction enjoyers:

Please excuse my rage slipping if it happened over having to address this literal mediocrity of a subject in comparison to endless things that actually matters in real life. Because this would be at the scrapping bottom of it, but since the occasion presented itself, here we are:

Do you know there are some, let's say, manners, being in fandoms, and/or in using social media in general? NOOO? 8U

Well, Lets start somewhere!

Like it or not, YOU NEED TO ACTUALLY READ STUFF PEOPLE WRITE. Before you follow, before you comment, before you interact, because if you come across something you don't like, or you started to assume things— that's a you problem and not the fault of the poster.

If you DO NOT enjoy a character, a pair of ship, or a certain head cannon, filter the tag it's used for, Google has free tutorials on how. Most social media have these settings and most decent posters tag their posts correctly. If you keep seeing that pair, you can block the people who create it. You are free to do so ofc but WHY WOULD U come on main and air that out? Personally I find it so bizarre and it could show the type of person you are to other people — a toxic company over fictional substance — and I'd say that is not a flex, more like showing your dirty nappy in public. Those characters you love are not real and so not effected by your high ground stance, but actual humans that share you that love notice and get that impression, and it's a weird one. You SHOULD, of course, set your boundaries, and usually where that is be in your profile, on your bio or a pinned post.

Loving bizarre, villainous, creepy concepts DOES NOT EQUAL morality, nor loving good sunshine and flowers does. It's what a person does in real life what counts, not what they consume in entertainment. In fact, it is not a sign of a good person those who be shaming humans who like different fictional concepts. Or when someone keeps using ai generators knowing full well it's based on constant data theft of all sort of human creators across generations and can not exist without the continuance of this theft. Or those supporting creators that they know did irl crimes. Or those who are Policing what's can and cannot go into fiction as if the fickleness of preference have never let alot of things survive its judgement. And I can go on with the miniature examples. You are forgiven if you did not know before, some people learn through experience, but not anymore when you continue this behaviour. And maybe if you can't differentiate between reality and fiction, and what's more important than what, maybe, just maybe, you shouldn't be consuming fiction.

DO NOT POST WHAT YOU DID NOT CREATE. Do you like it when people keep posting your selfies that you only ment to share for funsies and what not? Isn't worse if you did not post that selfie in the first place or never wanted it to be used like that? It's the SAME FOR ART. This is the artists work just as much as your face is yours. Social media at the baseline is about who ever the poster is, their posts are theirs. So you posting an artist's drawing, with no permission, no credit to them, no nothing, is not allowed and people can report that. Don't be an ignorant thick fig and play the victim when schooled like this precious dear\s .Reposters disconnect so many content from their creators and this is how alot of beautiful things in life die, by simply not knowing they are loved, shoved into the over consumption machine..

And lastly, You don't have anything nice to say to OP? Don't say anything! It's not your misguided duty to educate people on how embarrassingly self centered you are, it's okay to be a basic #&★— I promise. It okay to feel out of place in a niche that doesn't concern you. It's okay to realise other people have different perspectives of the fiction work you enjoy. You can sit down.

And I'd like to add, Mani is a safe space for au and ships even if I don't like em, cuz they are only FICTION and will remain FICTION no matter how much I loved them or hated them.

Good day, dears🍀

[forbebeandjam]

Without You | Bada Lee/ BEBE x Fem Reader | MINI SERIES

Summary: getting home and finding a cure was difficult and mind draining. You never imagined all of this would lead you to an awful place.

Word count 1.1k

Warnings: This chapter contains sensitive topics such as suicide. Please read with discretion. If you are tiggers my such topic, avoid reading this chapter.

A/N: I’m back and with the last chapter. It hasn’t been easy but here I am. I hope you guys liked this Mini Series and thank you to the anon who requested it!!! 🩶 thank you as well for your patience and support. I’ll work hard to being more amazing work to this blog🩷

•WITH YOU•

"Why do we have to go? I don't understand," you said. Kyma didn't stop looking around.

"My parents are good people but... they are being manipulated right now. They found the cure but the government is trying to manipulate the country and sell the medicine at a high price so... we have to go. Anywhere," Kyma said.

"But... why? I-"

"Unnie, my mom and dad said to leave with this. These shots have the cure and there are around ten. Lusher and Minah have been cured and we are not infected at all so, let's go. If they see us with medicine or near my parents, We will be doomed," she said again.

"Okay. Let's get the girls and leave. We can walk to Bada's house from here. The van must be infected so we can't take that," you said and walked to the living room.

"Going anywhere?" you heard a deep voice say. A man pointed his gun at Cheche who was sound asleep. Minah and Lusher had already been sleeping next to Bada.

He then turned the gun to Kyma but you stood in front of her.

"We just want to sleep. Thats all. Can we sit next to our friends?" you said and he chuckled.

"I am not stupid. You have that behind you. The beakers with the cure. Hand them over," he said.

"No," you said.

"No?" he asked

"No," you repeated.

"Well... you'll just have to die then. He cocked the gun back and a gunshot was heard...

but you were not dead. The man's body fell to the floor and the girls woke up panicked. Kyma's father was standing there with a smoking gun in his hand.

"Go! Go now!" her mother yelled. You all stood up and ran around trying to collect your bag. Kyma wrapped the beakers in a t-shirt and shoved them in her bag.

"Please look after our little girl, Y/N," her mother said and you nodded.

She kissed her parents and with a small tear, she let go of them and held your hand.

You ran with our face masks limiting the airflow. People on the streets chased you begging for a cure which motivated you to run faster. Kyma stopped when she saw her parents running away into the woods.

"No... they are after them. Unnie!" Kyma yelled.

"Kyma, look at me!" I made a promise to your mom. I will keep you safe. They will be okay but we have to go now!" you wiped her tears and hugged her. You dragged her by her wrist and ran a few more blocks.

"Go in through the back, I'll watch," Bada said but you pulled her with when you saw someone coming.

We all walked in and locked the door. Bada sighed and stood next to you.

"Why... just... why do you keep acting like this? I want to protect you but seems like you don't give a fuck. You keep putting yourself at risk and never communicate with me. Why?"

"Bada... not now,"

"When? When will I be able to talk to you and figure out why you have been acting like this?"

"Because I love you! Because I would die without you. Because... because I have no reason to live. I have been wanting to die for months now and the only thing that keeps me going is all of you. Even Cheche when she nagging and whining. Nothing matters to me more than all of you but I also don't want to be alive," you fell to the floor in tears.

A loud silence was heard and Bada tried to grab your arm but you pulled away and started to run upstairs.

You opened the window to your balcony and sat with your feet hanging. You could see fires all around the city. The world seemed to collapse before you. Bada had turned into your world and you kept pushing her away.

You could no longer breathe and you kept pushing your oxygen away. You wanted to keep them safe but have them as far away from you as possible so when you decided to leave this horrendous world, they wouldn't miss you.

"Y/N?" you heard Bada.

"I'm... I'm sorry, love. I need to go now. You gave me so much love and attention but it's all over. I have no more reason to be here. I hope you understand," you said.

"No! No, I don't understand. Why are you doing this? Why do you want to leave me!?" she yelled.

"I miss my mom. My dad promised he would take me to Paris. I... I have to go with them, Bada. I love you forever," you said as you allowed your body to fall out of the window.

"NO! Y/N! AH!"

(Three years later)

"Good morning, baby," Bada said as she placed a tray of food on the bed.

"Good morning," You smiled. She sat behind you as you sipped on your coffee and wrapped her arms around your figure.

"The view is wonderful," you said.

"It's more wonderful because I am with you," she snuggled into the crook of your neck.

"Thank you," you said.

"I called room service, baby. No need to thank me," she replied. You turned to her and pecked her lips.

"Thank you for saving me over and over without thinking about risks. I don't deserve you," you said.

She smiled sweetly and pushed a strand of hair behind your ear.

"I love you and you deserve all the good things after all your suffering and sacrifices," she said before kissing you...

That day, after jumping out the window, she drove your almost lifeless body to the hospital. She didn't care about any risks.

A few hours later, Kyma's parents released the formula for the cure, and chemists all over the world managed to cure many people including Bada who became infected when taking you to the hospital.

After that, things started to go back to normal and some things changed. You and the girls attended many dance competitions, some of you graduated school and started going around the world.

Paris was your destination and Bada made sure it was special to you. The way your father would've wanted. She made sure you were happy and loved just like your parents would want to. She always ensured you never missed your mom and cared for you all the time. 

She helped you heal.

"The girls must be waiting. Are you ready?" She asked as she placed her bag around her shoulder.

"As long as I'm with you. Let's do this!" You gave her a high five and walked hand in hand to the dance studio.

⋆.˚✮THE END✮˚.⋆

Thank you for reading 🩵

[cirilla-fiona-riannon]

Amidst the Waves (His POV)

Translations may not always capture the exact nuances or tone of the original text. Expect grammatical errors.

No matter how much people talk about bonds, when push comes to shove, they will betray each other.

I know all too well the fragility of trust.

Drake: "You really can smile and say you don’t mind being betrayed, huh?"

The words I blurted out sounded detached and chilling, even to myself.

Despite having her promise broken by the child she helped, Mitsuki still chose to believe in her.

Mitsuki: "Did I say something weird?"

Drake: "Nah, it's probably just the way you see things. I can't understand it, though."

(It's just a promise with a kid. It's not something worth getting worked up about.)

Mitsuki's excessive tolerance and kindness were things I found hard to believe.

Drake: "For me, betrayal meant death."

Drake: "There was the risk of dying from betraying and the danger of being killed in retaliation for betraying. No matter which side I stand on, death is always close by."

Drake: "I can't read people's hearts no matter what they say, and even if I believe them, you never know when they'll turn on you."

Drake: "I don't have the time or the ability to consider the other person's circumstances."

The lights of the city were reflected on the surface of the water beyond my gaze.

With each ripple, the flickering lights and shadows swayed gently, never truly intersecting.

Drake: "If I betray someone, I do it with the understanding that I may die. If I'm betrayed, I'll chase the other person to the ends of the earth for revenge."

Drake: "If I can't achieve revenge, I'll curse the whole world like a sailor wishing for destruction on an eternal voyage."

I could feel Mitsuki's surprise slightly in the air.

(You and I have lived in different worlds and have different values.)

(To me, you seem unbelievably naive and sweet.)

Mitsuki, who innocently loved this world and believed in others without thinking of herself, was like a newborn deer who knew nothing of the impurities of the world.

She remained silent for a while, but eventually she uttered something unexpected.

Mitsuki: "I chose to believe because I wanted to believe. You're the one who made me want to follow through on that feeling."

Drake: "Me?"

She nodded in response to my puzzled expression.

Mitsuki: "Don't you remember? You invited me on a boat before, just like today, and listened to me."

Mitsuki: "You said that living in a way that goes against my own wishes is the real betrayal.”

Mitsuki: "When you said that to me, it made me realize that I shouldn't betray my own feelings."

(Ahh…)

------------Flashback------------

Drake: "If you're always thinking about those people and sacrificing your desires, you'll miss out on life."

Drake: "In that case, you should choose the path you believe in."

Drake: "In my opinion, living in a way that goes against your own wishes is the real betrayal."

---------Flashback Ends--------

(I did say that.)

Mitsuki: "When you said that to me, it made me realize that I shouldn't betray my own feelings."

Drake: ".........."

I was surprised.

Because Mitsuki spoke as if she had received support for her feelings.

I didn't intend to support her belief or anything, and yet...

(You took my words like that and turned them into support for your belief.)

Drake: "You really are a strange woman."

Mitsuki: "Huh?"

Drake: “I could never trust someone enough to be okay with being betrayed.”

Drake: “And yet, you started to think that way because of my words.”

Mitsuki: "Yeah."

(So, you're telling me that, despite our totally different worlds and values, I've somehow played a part in this?)

Drake: "I don't get it."

Drake: "Still, I'm amazed by your stubborn kindness."

Despite being truly and deeply astonished, for some reason, I reached out my hand to touch Mitsuki's cheek.

Mitsuki: "Drake?"

Drake: “I don’t know why, but despite your ridiculously naive thinking, I can’t ignore that you secretly feel sad behind that stubborn kindness.”

Mitsuki: ".........."

The soft cheeks I touched felt warm, like a place where the light shines.

Will this cheek be wet with tears the next time someone betrays her?

Or will she bravely laugh it off, even if she makes a fool of herself?

Believing is such a fragile emotion. It won't be a reliable lifeline.

(And yet it bothers me that she cries over its fragility.)

A faint desire of protectiveness and doubt towards the emotion of believing intersect unevenly, leading me to ask myself a question.

Does she truly never give up on believing, no matter what happens?

Afterward, she asked me if I had ever been betrayed by someone, and I briefly talked about a childhood memory of my first betrayal.

Once again, she said something unexpected, making me wonder what she was thinking.

Mitsuki: "Hey, Drake..."

Drake: "Hm?"

Mitsuki: "You may think that people are supposed to betray others, but no matter what, I won't betray you."

Drake: ".........."

Mitsuki: "I won't break promises or push you away."

Mitsuki: "So please try to believe in me."

Not only were her words devoid of any sense of self-interest, but Mitsuki's eyes were filled with an earnestness I'd never seen before.

Drake: "Mitsuki."

Drake: "Even if I were a villain trying to deceive you, would you still not betray me?"

Mitsuki: "I won't betray you. I don't want to betray you."

I couldn't help but wonder why she went to such lengths, so I couldn't resist asking. To my surprise, she answered right away.

Drake: "Ha...ha...ahahaha!"

I was laughing beyond disbelief.

She must be saying that without any ulterior motive. She's just as naive and straightforward as ever.

(She's really like a fawn.)

Mitsuki: "Drake?"

Drake: "No, sorry. Different people asked me to believe in them, but they all had excuses or were begging for their lives."

Drake: "You're the first one to ask me to believe without any benefit for yourself."

I laughed a bit and patted her head.

Drake: "Well, if you put it that way, I'll try believing in you."

Drake: "You won't betray me, and I'll believe in you. It's our promise."

Drake: "Like a pirate's code."

Mitsuki: "Okay! I promise."

While feeling somewhat dazzled by her pure smile, deep down, I was thinking.

(I want to test this woman.)

(Even if it goes against fate or the world, I want to uncover Mitsuki.)

Previous Part ╎ Masterlist ╎ Next Part

[wolfyaka]

Has anybody else been overanalyzing All Might's hallucinations? Because I have and I'd love to hear your thoughts on this:

All Might has literally said twice that they are hallucinations and that those are things he's telling himself, so either for some weird reason he just can't and won't accept these are actually Nana and Nighteye talking to him (which would be weird but it would explain how Nighteye knew that was the actual vision) or they are indeed representing his own mind, which is clearly divided. I'm not saying he's two different people, of course, All Might and Toshinori are one and the same, but he does have a complex and contrasting personality and he can oscillate, just like he shows different aspects of himself as All Might and Toshinori.

Either way, if that's the case, I believe Nana represents his heroic, self-sacrificing to a fault self, always pushing him to keep going no matter what, which we saw in the two fights with AFO actually, and which makes sense because that's what she represented as well; and then, there's Nighteye, which represents his humanity, his fragility and in the end, his inherent value as a human being, his right to live; which is beautiful considering Nighteye is probably the first person that actually cared for his life and worried enough to have an argument with him, mind you, I don't agree with the way he handled it, but his heart was in the right place and he did what he thought was the best.

Which leads me to All Might's mindset when acting. I believe in this whole arc after he retired, he struggled with those two sides:

At times understanding his life was worth protecting and wanting to do so. Pushing himself to believe he could change his destiny and thinking of ways to do so, that is, when he promised to live to Izuku's mom, when he told AFO he'd keep living, when he made the promise to bend his destiny with Izuku, when he talked to Aizawa and said he had decided to live, when he decided to ask Melisa for help, when he used his student's quirks as support, when he started streaming his battle and just being aware of people asking him to live.

But at times, there was also the feeling that his life made no sense without helping as a field hero, mourning how weak his human body was, falling into depression, still craving to hold on to his dream, to his heroic core, and in that, doubting that he'd be able to bend his own destiny because in the end, he'd go as far as it was needed, and that, ultimately, it was fine because that was the heroic thing to do.

I believe he went into the fight with AFO with both mindsets at the same time and that's why in his hallucination he jokes about the mentor being meant to die, just for himself to answer back that no, that's just for comics, heroes are human too.

Also, as a side note, I love that the way Izuku's and All Might's destinies changed, wasn't because they stopped being crazy heroic (which yeah probably don't do that in real life, but hey, they did risk their lives for a very huge, good reason), it was because they allowed other people in, to be inspired, to care, and to help and save them, be it with their wishes and will or directly like Eri in Izuku's case and Bakugo in All Might's case. It seems so beautifully poetic, just like someone else said with the wordplay of the Three Musketeers, they gave "One for all", and everyone gave them "All for one" back, which is what society needed to begin with; the fault wasn't in All Might carrying everything on his shoulders per se, it was that he felt the need to do so because a lot of people didn't care enough to move one finger, like we saw with Shigaraki.

By the way... this expression is everything I ever wanted T^T

[imaginarianisms]

here's a few things the rpc has REALLY gotta get back into doing !!

Reading Each Other's Rules !!

Communicate Communicate Communicate Communicate & Not jumping to conclusions about people & assuming other people's character & intentions & Ask what they mean & if you need clarification on something Ask Them. i promise you things would likely go a lot more smoothly & bad experiences with people not communicating with me/you/us that could've been avoided or at the very least reduced if we simply spoke to one another & less feelings would be hurt.

Stop Vaguing People & Getting Involved In Shit & Being Mean To People For Petty Shit When Things Can Literally Be Communicated In Private Respectfully. civil discussions can go a really long way. if the disrespect or offense in question isn’t malicious, there’s no need to approach the topic maliciously. you’d be surprised at just how much can be solved by just asking someone to clarify something.

Understand That Just Because Someone Writes Something Or A Character Does Not Mean That They Condone Or Endorse Them Y'all Why Are We Still Having This Conversation In The Year 2024

don't like something or you genuinely can't handle a topic? use the tools at your disposal to curate your own space (there's two magical things on your screen: the scrollbar & the block button that you can use that can be your true besties frfr) that's Your responsibility tungle dot hellsite dot com user, not anyone else's.

respecting others & understanding that's another human person sitting on the other side of that screen that has hopes & dreams & feelings the same way you do.

telling your friends how lovely & talented they are & how they portray their muses !! there's a whole lot of negativity going on, the best thing we can do is lift each other up & treat each other with kindness & compassion !!

commenting on peoples' posts, hcs, art, edits, etc., telling them you see it & that it looks good, it's cool, it's entertaining, etc., bc we as content creators can't read your mind & as nice as it'd be for us to always serve ourselves with our work, realistically people Will lose motivation to continue creating after a while without some kind of support. if you Like Something then SAY SOMETHING!!!!!!

sending each other's muses messages about other muses they're talking to, characters from their canon if applicable, their worldbuilding & generally getting actively involved in the narratives & worlds other people create & encouraging people to discuss them. there's nothing i like more than doing that, it feels great.

asking random unprompted questions about your friends' characters without fear it's "too much" (THAT'S YOUR ANXIETY BRAIN TALKING!!!!! DON'T LISTEN TO IT SOMETIMES OUR BRAINS LIE!!!!!) provided the question isn't invasive or rude, ESPECIALLY if the character is an original and/or fandomless character.

sending heartfelt & honest words of positivity about other people & the work they do, not chainmail, not lazy generic shit, but out of real kindness from the heart.

Drawing People Fanart / Making Graphics / Making Drabbles of their characters / ships / OC's !!!! please !!! really !!! most people adore it !!!! i Promise you that taking the time & putting in the effort to show someone that the work they do inspired the stuff you do will make anyone's fuckin day. it'd make me explode & die tbh.

Telling!!!!! Other!!!!!!!!!!!! People!!!!!!!!!!! That!!!!!!!!!!! We're!!!!!!!!!! All!!! Doing!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Good!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Jobs!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Actually Interact With Each Other. i have no idea what's going on these last few years but years ago we used to interact w/ each other a lot more than we used to. send asks & memes & prompts to each other, ask each other questions about the muns & their muses & actually take the time to interact with your moots & muses.

acknowledging our mental health!!!!! you're not a robot, you're a human being!!!!! be okay with the fact that folx need space & time! it's okay to not be in the mood all the time, you're a living breathing human being that matters, respect that.

make sure Other people feel included in discord servers, rp groups, multi-way threads, events & just overall & not just the few people you talk to. it's perfectly normal & understandable that you may vibe with some people more than others, but only talking to other people you're familiar with can lead to your other moots feeling left out. your moots aren't numbers on your follower list, they're people & writers & they deserve reciprocity & vice versa. if you're not going to engage with someone then why follow them. that's literally the whole point of being moots.

surround yourself with people who actually love you.

acknowledge each other's artwork, graphics, metas, threads & worldbuilding in your own portrayals & works. PLEASE. PEOPLE !!!! DON'T!!!!!! KNOW!!!!! YOU!!!!!! LIKE!!!!! THEM!!! IF!!!!! YOU!!!!! SAY!!!!!!!! NOTHING!!!!!!!!!!!!! TELL!!!!!!!! THEM!!!!!!! THEY!!!!!! MATTER!!!!!

Literally Just Being Fucking Nice To Each Other Openly For No Reason Or Prompt

understand that there's a glaring, obvious hatred of & disregard & a subconscious bias & avoidance of characters of color (ESPECIALLY black & indigenous / native characters of color), elder characters, really young characters, characters with strong cultural and/or religious influences that aren’t easily digestible/palatable/dumbed down/fetishized especially if they're tied to a marginalized community, female characters who don't automatically ship and/or smut with you, disabled characters, mentally ill & neurodivergent characters who aren’t concentrated into Edgy Aesthetics TM & nothing else, t.wo s.pirit, t.rans, n.onbinary, g.enderfluid, a.gender & i.ntersex characters (especially queer characters of color), fat characters, nonhuman characters, especially characters who's marginalized identities intersect with each other, characters who aren’t cis and/or heterosexual and/or p.erisex skinny white people in their 20's ... i could truly Go On but actually practicing what y'all preach & opening up your minds to new things & portrayals, ask yourselves Why you don't interact with or write any of these characters if that applies (which likely does) & start showing up for these muses & the muns that portray them, ESPECIALLY muns of color, because these are stories that NEED to be heard, loved, respected & most of all appreciated.

[blueberrypancakesworld]

Hear me out yandere Senri but in this scenario

Kianna he died like Yui and Subaru

( in this scenario Subaru is also dead)

And she has a mental breakdown and he finds her looking for him and says

Kianna: d-darling- darling! where are you!? please tell me this is just a dream in your Not Dead!

And the rest is up to you

info : I was a bit confused by the request about the words (when translating) but i hope i got it right.

warning : death, blood, kiss

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

Since when could she feel anything again? Shouldn't she stop feeling pain when she became a vampire? She should be able to overcome everything, to finally leave the six behind her, even her beloved sister, and yet…why did her chest hurt so much?

Why did her feet seem like lead, her skin even colder than usual and a pain that was eating her from the inside out? She hadn't seen the knife coming in her state, hadn't seen what had happened in her confused thoughts. She had only seen Yui, her beloved sister, but she couldn't save her, the blonde was doomed to die and she?

She was supposed to live forever with her beloved Senri, her loyal only lover in this damned world. Together forever in each other's arms as he had promised when they had kissed, when there had been that almost besotted gleam in his eyes…but now she saw nothing but fear in his eyes.

Fear when she saw the blood that her body was reacting to his blood coming out of his chest where the dagger she knew so well had been stuck. ,,D-darling, please don't!” she shouted, making hasty strides towards him in an attempt to loosen the lead from the attack and letting Senri fall into her arms as he slipped from the wall, his own body no longer able to support him.

His uncoordinated hand trembled as he clung to her, still holding her as he dutifully did every day. He loved her, ,,It's only natural that-that-that I have you by my side as my heart,” he murmured and she saw the blood stain his pale lips, his chest couldn't handle the special weapon, his body couldn't handle the poison that could kill humans and vampires alike with a stab to the heart.

But she? Kianna saw nothing but red, her golden eyes saw only the red on her hands, the fear of that time, and she couldn't bear the reality of living without him.

He couldn't no-no-no-no-he couldn't die after all. Something she told herself over and over again, ,,You-you can't die a dream you can't die!” she screamed at him she screamed at the ghosts of her fear and past she didn't want to lose someone again.

But Senri's gaze had already changed and his hands clasped her cheeks, ,,I'll never leave you, your love makes me live,” he reminded her, gripping her tighter and slowly pulling her closer, the smell of her sweetness enveloping him like it did before, like she was always by his side, he wouldn't allow it any other way.

Even if more and more blood flowed from the wound, it was all the same because she was here, she was the one who was with him now in this second of his death.

Before he pulled her into a final kiss, she was filled with his blood, his love and his being, a kiss that would last for eternity. ,,But Senri,” she could taste his blood on her lips as his body shot over hers again, this kiss like a taste was a feeling of devotion as she responded to him.

But the vampire just shook his head powerlessly, ,,My blood in you I'm with you Kianna…forever…you…are… mine” his last words came from his lips before his soul mirrors closed forever but he had vanished into hell knowing that she was never complete without him, she was his and he knew that it was only a matter of time before she would join him because she loved him beyond death, she was his and he was hers. A love that lasts through death and madness.

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

[crazypsychonerdstuff]

Nero, where you're there, could I get some fluffy HCs with Abigor from ghost rider with an asexual goth reader plz? Just had an argument about how "asexuality isn't a thing, and you won't find anyone if you keep believing it is. Which is fine, lots of people want to be alone." But I DON'T want to be alone! And it just got me a little, and now I feel like shit. Sorry if I'm being selfish. Don't feel you have to write anything for this.

Right. For a start, anon, you are NOT being selfish. Secondly, you are valid, and whoever said that to you had no right to say that. Just because they can't understand it doesn't give them licence to go saying hurtful things. They don't have to understand to accept. Unfortunately, I know this struggle all too well myself. My family just doesn't seem to be able to get their heads around it either. It's a tough one, but at the end of the day, we are who we are! If they can't accept that, that's a them issue, not an us issue!

Now, onto business! One fluffy demon with his ace s/o coming right up! Gotta say, I don't think I've seen anyone write for him before, so this is gonna be interesting, I have quite a few headcanons for him tbh! He was one of my comfort characters for the longest times when I was going through a rough spot over a decade ago, so yeah... a lot of this will probably be me projecting a little, too. Sorry! I hope these are up to expectations!

🎃

Above all, he is so supportive of you. He loves you and will stand by you no matter what. You're asexual? And? He loves you, and that's not going to change anything. He's a demon. There's nothing 'conventional' about him, so why should his s/o or their relationship be any different?

I'd say he'd protect you with his life, but being a demonic entity (and this is where one of my headcanons comes in a little*¹), he can't really die, so that sentiment is irrelevant really.

If someone dares talk down to you, belittles you, or otherwise disrespect you, he will ensure they regret it one way or another. If you are really adverse to him killing the perpetrator, he will find other ways to make their life a misery: ensuring that they can't go anywhere, and I mean anywhere, without a gust of wind messing up their hair +/ outfit. Or blowing a neatly swept pile of dust/leaves etc at the moment they were about to clear it up. If that doesn't work, he'll use his elemental power to sneak into their house and start wreaking havoc with their possessions. If that still fails to affect them, then he'd start appearing and threatening them personally until they ceased their torment.

He will give you lots of surprise hugs; materialising out of thin air and wrapping himself around you, his body only partly formed, allowing him to engulf you almost completely.

He has, on more than one occasion, lent you his coat, either when it's cold out and you've forgotten your own or if he's going to be unavailable for a while, he'll leave it with you both so you have a part of him there with you and as a promise that he'll come back.

He loves your aesthetic. I can see him being easily persuaded to become [more] goth*² (me and Scorpio were just having a debate as to whether he was already goth... I said not really but has potential, Scorp said he 100% is... so...)

Will often bring you gifts that he thinks you'd like, be it trinkets, ornaments and little things for your home or accessories and clothes. He loves seeing your reactions when he gifts you something.

He loves doing "human" things with you as he puts it, such as listening to music*³, watching movies/TV shows*⁴, cooking (with help from you). He tried reading but couldn't get into it, though Abigor wearing reading glasses is definitely a Look™️!

When the two of you are spending any length of time at your place, he's taken to wearing more loose-fitting clothing, namely band t-shirts and joggers/lounge pants.

Probably projecting here again, but cemetery dates. You're goth, he's a goth(?) Demon, where better?! It's quiet, it's spooky to most but comforting to the two of you, you can admire the architecture of the gravestones... the list goes on.

He likes being close to you in some way, be that just sitting next to you, or holding hands, or having an arm around you to, if you are comfortable with it, practically clinging to you, snuggling into you, lying on you or pulling you ontop of himself.

If you two are sharing a bed, expect to wake up completely engulfed in air demon: in his sleep, he has a habit of becoming not-quite-solid, and as a result, you will likely find yourself surrounded.

Oh, and expect him to come up with some really good ghost stories too! Though whether they are fictitious or actual things he's witnessed +/ experienced is open for debate. He is a demon, after all.

¹ when the respective demons were "killed", I believe that really what happened was more an inconvenience. They sort of get sent back to hell to pull themselves back together (both figuratively and literally) and are 100% able to return after a while.

² while writing this, I was imagining Air boi in some pretty awesome outfits tbh. And you can't tell me that he hasn't tried a steampunk look at least once(this might be me projecting a little, though)! And eyeliner. Kinda went full on corpse paint at one point, but as awesome as that looked in my head, it just reverted back to regular eyeliner.

³I have a feeling he'd be into rock and metal from the 70s/80s mostly, some bands I think he'd be into are: Aerosmith, Mötley Crüe, Motörhead, Twisted Sister and Megadeth.

⁴I think he would like watching true crime shows a lot. Idk why, just think he would. And paranormal stuff, though mostly to laugh at the insanity of it all when most things shown on them are clearly hoaxes.