#ill be strong. ill get through this. but god it hurts. this lose hurts.

[beanswithbones]

To my little old lady,

Pookie, you got me through so much in highschool and I'm sorry after I moved I didn't come home to visit you more often. I will cherish these last 4 days with you. I will sit by you as I play videogames on my crappy little Chromebook.

I wish I could spend more time with you. I wish you weren't slipping from me so quickly. You've gotten so skinny, your strong loud meow has mellowed, your purr is weak and we have to carry you to your food and litter. Yet you cuddle so lovingly, you butt your head against our hands the best you can muster. You may be weak but you're happy. And I hope you'll be happy still when I hold you in my arms for the last time.

#kitties #personal #cw animal death #she hasnt passed yet tho ill tag it as i know most don't wish to read something like this #and i respect that #this hurts so much to have recently lost my uncle and bow to be loosing my childhood pet. #ill be strong. ill get through this. but god it hurts. this lose hurts.

[koishua]

queen of tears spoilers!!

identity is above all else, it seems like. ep 14 of queen of tears ruined me in all the good ways. when the question is "do you want to die as yourself?" vs "are you willing to live at the cost of who you are as a person?", the ultimate answer hae-in gives is no. she'd rather come to peace with the prospect of death with all of her memories of loving and, in turn, being loved coming with her. the death of memories is more painful than the death of her life itself. hyunwoo begging and sobbing in her arms does not deter her, however much she wants to keep on living. as herself. keep on living as the hong hae-in who loved dearly and who was loved, desperately so.

a loss of identity is death to everything that ever had a hand in helping her become who she is now. this brings me to the phrase "death is for the living". the dead do not mourn or face the aftermath of their last breath in the world of the living. the living, those who are left behind, are the ones who truly know what death is. so it is painful when hyunwoo, the man who isn't struck with the terminal illness bound to take her life any time soon, begs almost on his knees for hae-in, the woman who's counting the seconds left she has to live, to give up her sense of self. it's understandable how both of them stand strong in their desires. one fears becoming a stranger to all that she loves and one fears becoming familiar to life without the one he cannot live without. so he does everything in his power to have her take the surgery (all effort is in vain, she will not give up her identity).

i love this episode so much. im still only halfway through it but i had to give my two cents. such a beautifully tragic dilemma of two people who love. one loves by wanting to remember, one loves by giving everything to make her live. have a taste of love again for the first time. he says that he'll be the first person she'll meet and get to know again after the surgery. that he will still be there for her when she wakes up a completely different, empty, and lost person. he wants her to live, does not care if she'll ever even be able to reconnect with him ever again. he believes that she deserves to wake up another day and smile. to still be able to make new memories.

in the end they're both very selfish people who love selflessly.

edit: help me my stomach hurts from laughing so hard oml not him using his face and body card to annoy her into living. using jealousy as a mean to motivate her to take the freaking surgery and live ugh im in tears ahhahahah i love how if she doesn't become convinced the first few times when he's nice, he just intentionally pisses her off or annoys her into doing things to help herself 😭😭 thr only way to get hae-in motivated to live: make her mad at himself and have her do beneficial things out of sheer SPITE

edit 2: NO WHAT THE FOUK JUST HAPPENED POOR HYUNWOO OH MY GOD the way he lost all strength in his knees my god he crumbled in front of her feet he got a taste of what losing her felt like with that massive crash im still in shock i can't imagine having to witness that and trying to get through the car window to help save her and then not find her there?? and then she appears unscathed thankfully and he feels like a bucket of ice cold water drops over his head??? man they have to be so much more careful from now on bc the amount of yandereism the other guy is exhibiting ugh and the evil mother saying she'll help him out with "i can't stop till the moment i die" wtf??? OMG SHE'S GETTING THE SURGERY WHAT WHAT WHAT "i promised i would never make you cry after we get married" WOMAN HE'S BEEN SOBBING HIS SOUL OUT EVERY EPISODE SINCE!!!! 😭😭 ALSO NOOOOO NOT MY BOY SOOCHEOL GOING THROUGH IT AGAIN I CANT TAKE IT PLS MAKE HIM HAPPY WITH HIS LITTLE FAMILY I WILL CRYYYYYYYY he's gonna have MAJOR trust issues lmfao

#tp #cinema time! #queen of tears #my gut is telling me she won't forget a single thing lmfao #NOOOOOOOOOOOOO WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF #WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK WHAT THE FUCK WHAT THE FUCK NO NO NO NO NO NO NO #I KNEW IT THINGS WERE GOING WAY TOO SMOOTHLY I FUCKING KNEW IT YOU FUCKING BIIIITCHHHH YOU ASSHOLE YOU #OH MY GOD YOU EVIL FUCKING GREMLIN I CANT I CANT I KNEW IT I WAS TOO OPTIMISTIC I FUCKING KNEW IT #HAE-IN MY GIRLIE POP PLEASE I KNOW YOU CAN RECOGNIZE THE EVIL IN HIS EYES THAT AIN'T YOUR MAN #the end of this episode is fr hyunwoo's villain arc he's had eNOUGH #yoon eunseok you fucking bitch fight me

[bil-daddy]

Salutations Mr Bildad, Bildad the Shuhite, Bildaddy sir.

I'm so so sorry to bother you, or be a nuisance, but everything is getting on top of me lately and you give excellent advice.

Basically, the last 12-18 months have been awful - I'm acutely aware that in terms of what's happening in the world I'm pretty blessed 🙏🏻 However within around 12 months experiencing; a miscarriage, 4 bereavements, one parent being rushed into hospital, the other needing surgery (both are doing Ok now thank God 🙏🏻), two surgeries of my own within six months - neither of which have improved what they should have, chronic pain, multiple diagnoses - most of which were unexpected & should have been diagnosed a looonnnnggg time ago, reactions to any& all medications, finding out physio will be necessary for the rest of my life, a very upsetting break up, discovering people who were supposed to be friends can't be trusted...... Let's not forget financial issues due to being unable to work as result of illness etc .... I am losing hope that things are ever going to get better 😔

I'm so so sorry for offloading all this on you but work said they could no longer offer counselling which is infuriating because the counsellor was amazing! Sadly she isn't taking on any private patients for several months so we had to discontinue sessions for the foreseeable 😔

I'm so sorry but I don't really have any other people to talk to right now, my fiancé was my best friend so in a sense it's almost a double loss? Sorry this is pretty pathetic 😪

Yikes. And here I thought @blameless-job had it bad.

So, first off, let me tell you how sorry I am for all your losses. Any of which on their own are extremely painful, but all at the same time? Nobody should have to weather a storm like that. I am so proud of you, just for being here. You're incredibly strong for what you're surviving, even though you shouldn't even have to survive it in the first place.

So don't apologize cause there's nothing pathetic about reaching out for help when you're going through something--or multiple somethings, in your case. In fact, it's exactly the thing you need to do. A lot has been dumped onto your plate, so it makes sense you need to offload it.

I know your former counsellor isn't able to help you at the moment, but maybe they can refer you to someone else, because you deserve a professional (in psychology, not shoemaking and obstetrics) to help you through these tragedies. They might be able to get you a referral.

(If you want to try to find a counsellor on your own, there's NHS Therapy Services in the UK, and SAMHSA National Helpline in the US.)

In the meantime, though, I'll do my best.

If you're worried that things are never going to get better, you shouldn't be. I mean I understand why you are, but the fact is, as dark as this is to say, you might actually be at your lowest point right now. Which means, as awful as things are right now, things can only go up from here.

You got some new diagnoses, which suck to have, especially when they should have been caught earlier, but now that you have a diagnosis, you can start getting treated.

You're six months out from two surgeries and haven't gotten better, but in six more months, or even six weeks, you might start to see some improvement. Plus, once you start the phsyio therapy you now know you need, you can troubleshoot with the physical therapist on how to make more improvements on the issues you had surgery for, as well as the chronic pain. The physical therapist might also be able to refer you to a counsellor as well, if your previous counsellor isn't able to give you one.

But that's just the physical stuff.

It's the emotional stuff that hurts more. Losing loved ones, be it to death, breakup, or just realizing your friends aren't really friends. That kind of pain is even more difficult to deal with.

For the bereavements, it might be helpful remember the good times you shared with these people and the things you loved most about them. They may be gone now, but those memories aren't and they're even more valuable now that they are the parts of your loved ones that are still with you.

And when you're living your life, and you see or hear something that reminds you of them, like a favourite song, or the kind of car they used to drive, that's another way they're still with you.

You might cry the first few, or few hundred times you remember them, but after awhile you'll start smiling more and crying less when you think about them.

For the miscarriage, it's a bit tougher, since you're grieving what could have been, rather than what was. But it's still a loss as valid as any other loss of a loved one, so you have every right to grieve it as such. You have my deepest sympathy for the loss of your child. And the miscarriage is why your fiancé and you are no longer together, you have my deepest sympathy for that, too.

It would be easy for me to say "the trash took itself out" when it comes to ex-fiancés and fake friends, but much harder for you to actually feel that way.

You have the right to grieve the friendships and your relationship ending. To miss them even though they hurt you. To feel hurt, and betrayed, and angry, and still love them anyway, even if you can't be around them anymore. It's okay to hate them, too, if you need to. Not forever. But in the short term, it can be cathartic and exactly what you need.

It'll take time for all these overwhelming and conflicting feelings to fade, and it's possible they'll never completely be gone. But you will learn to live alongside them until you forget they're even there.

You will feel better, I promise you. Een if the light at the end of the tunnel looks like a distant star right now, you'll reach it.

So have an ox rib (platonic) for the journey

Hope this helps, even just a little. Mutuals, feel free to send good vibes @ashbunny2027's way

#bildaddy answers #counselling from Bildaddy #results may vary #bildad the shuhite #bildad the shuhite army #bildaddy #have an ox rib (platonic) #oh bildad we're really in it now #oh bildad the shuhite we're really in it now #bildad my beloved #bildad nation #bildad brainrot #bildad #bildad the shuite

[atastypeach]

listen, Rolan's whole story just hits me really hard. Yes, this game is about breaking cycles, but I feel like addressing Rolan's cycle of abuse is something I gotta talk about because it's eating me up inside.

So through this game, we're told all about Cazador. Astarion isn't shy about making damn sure everyone knows just how much of a god awful wretch he is. And regardless of which ending you choose for Astarion - he gets to break free from his abuser. Sure, the cycle has a strong chance of continuing if you let him ascend, but this post isn't about it. It's about the catharsis of him killing Cazador. I think anyone who has been the survivor of abuse - in any form - may have found something truly freeing about Astarion getting to remove his shackles. But for me, something was missing. And what was missing was the secrecy of the abuse. I'm 33. I didn't face the worst of my abuse until I was 28. But that abuse went unnoticed by most people in my life. Came at the hand of my stepfather after my mom died of a terminal illness. Your tl;dr: I escaped his abuse in January of this year after years of torment. But it took people who loved me for me to realize what was happening. And I see this in Rolan too.

See, I failed at saving Rolan my first game. My game sequence broke. He didn't spawn until after I had completed Moonrise Towers and broke into the prisons. Saved him then but well. He turned on me in the end because I didn't save Cal and Lia. I'm sorry honey, blame the coding of the game being screwy, not me. But in Rolan I see a lot of myself. Not to be a kinnie on main (A/N: I am not a kinnie) but this young man shares an uncomfortable amount of traits with me, from being an overworking nerd, to being so desperately loyal to my loved ones, to drinking intensely when i can't cope with my emotions (I'm in therapy for this) and much more. And his story line has resonated with me as someone who has experienced hidden abuse. When we first meet him, he speaks highly of Lorroakan and his apprenticeship. The only real indication we get that Lorroakan might be bad news is from Gale who calls him a blowhard or something like that. We just know he's kind of a tool. But when we first meet Rolan - he's a tool. A match made in heaven, so what does it matter. But what we don't see is once we get to act three, how Rolan handles this apprenticeship with Lorroakan. And as someone who has seen both outcomes now...it hurts to see. If you fail to save Cal and Lia, Rolan follows Lorroakan blindly. He does as he wishes. He regards you with contempt and disdain. He sides with a man who we only know from a vague journal post in his bedroom that he may be experiencing abuse. He becomes Lorroakan's pawn doing precisely what he wishes. He dies for Lorroakan. A man we know has been exploiting, abusing and harming him. A man who likely knew he had Rolan wrapped around his finger because he is all Rolan had left. No family. No friends. No home to return to. Rolan is a nobody with only this wizard as his grounding point. There is no one for him, so Lorroakan has the perfect plaything. The perfect pawn. He can do whatever he wants to Rolan and there is no one to save him. And the worst part? Rolan was probably content to do just that. Sure, Lorroakan might be beating him, verbally harassing him and even worse -- but Lorroakan didn't let his family die. He wasn't the cause of Rolan losing the people he loved. And we never learn that he's being hurt until after he's already dead. But if you save him? You save his family? He recognizes his worth. He has family who see him for who he is. Who see his strengths. He has people worth living for and he has the opportunity for so much growth. He recognizes, likely thanks to the love and support he has from not only his siblings - but from you as a player, that he's being hurt. He's being exploited and used and harmed. He knows he is being abused and he wants to fight back, for his sake and for the sake of others - for his family, for Dame Aylin, for you.

IDK man, I just wanted to ramble about this. Because Rolan's own survivor story covers the hidden abuse that doesn't always get talked about. The abuse of someone who desperately is trying to remain strong in the face of it. I could probably keep rambling. Talk about how he was willing to die for Lorroakan because Lorroakan was all he had left, in his bad ending. But I think I've said my peace. I got him killed in my first playthrough, but in my second (which I'm still finishing) I feel like I'm doing myself a kindness in turn by offering him the love and support he needs. I love him. A lot.

#bg3 rolan #baldurs gate 3 rolan

[mochie85]

I just read Her and ugh I love your writing! Would you think about writing Loki having a dream about Thanos kidnapping the reader/wife and/or their kid?

To Have and To Hold - Chapter 3

Series Masterlist | My Complete Masterlist

Summary: Things take a turn for the worst as you continue to make decisions that's best for you. A/N: I'm so glad you enjoyed "Her," Nonny. I had a lot of fun writing that one. Thank you so much 🥰. Pairing: Loki x OFC/Reader Word Count: 2.5K Tags/Warnings: Lots of angst. There's a dream sequence where Thanos is basically threatening a child's life. Dividers by: @firefly-graphics

“Darling…I’m sorry.” The first words Loki said to you. The only words he said when he came inside your hospital room. You took one look at him and you cried. You couldn’t keep the emotion in anymore.

You covered your face with your hands as salted tears seeped through your fingers. Loki couldn’t keep it in either. The sight of you broken and hurt on the hospital bed left him feeling helpless and despondent.

A strong sense of defeat and weakness at not being able to help you, or the child, in your time of need. The emotion was so strong. It crumpled up inside him, buckling his knees as he reached for you on your bed. He should’ve been there for you. He should’ve cared for you. Supported you. Instead, the last words you said to each other before you left were ones of judgment and fear.

“My darling girl. I’m s-so very sorry.” He cried into your joined hands. He held it close to his lips, weeping on his knees.

It went on for a while. The two of you were sniffling and teary. Sometimes a new wave of guilt and tears would wash over both of you and the crying and wailing would restart all over again. Neither of you said anything other than apologies or promises that everything will be ok.

At one point, you both had shared the gurney, and you were cradled into his arms – careful of all the tubes and needles that were still attached to you. His hands wandered your arms and your face. But he didn’t dare touch your stomach the entire night.

Loki took care of you the best he could. He moved you to his room which had better views of the river and a larger en suite. A bullet wound through the chest was painful. You didn’t realize all the movements that relied on your pectoral muscles. Moving your arms. Turning to your side. Stretching your back. It was all an ordeal.

It wasn’t long before news of your loss traveled throughout the compound. It was one thing to find out that you were dating the god of mischief but then to find out you were pregnant with his baby, and then lose it while on a mission. The gossip mills wouldn’t stop churning.

The most awful rumors circulated like you were all back in high school and that somehow the knowledge of your life was currency for higher status within the gossiping ranks.

“She should’ve never been with him, to begin with.” “I bet you she only wanted to trap him.” “I bet you he’s the one that pulled the trigger.” “Guys, can’t you see they lost a baby? Give them a break!” “She should’ve never gone on that mission knowing what she did!”

And although they were quiet and nice to your face. Inside they were watching like a hawk. Mentally taking notes of your expressions or actions. Anything to report back to the gaggling circle of chicken heads.

You had to stop Loki on numerous occasions from getting into an altercation with some of the other agents. The more daring ones gossiping right in front of the both of you.

Both Steve and Tony had to set new guidelines on romantic involvement within the team. As well as castigate those who spoke ill on your behalf.

Luckily, it was easy for the team to rally behind you and Loki. Once they got over the initial shock, everyone knew that you two were good for each other and that you two were stronger together and will help each other through the loss.

The loss. It was so easy to forget your lie. It was so easy to forget that you still carried the baby within you. As long as you didn’t outright lie to Loki, he wouldn’t suspect any falsehoods within you.

You couldn’t keep up the charade for long. Soon, morning sickness had set upon you. Hard. You couldn’t even get up some mornings it felt like the whole world was spinning. Luckily you could blame it on your injury.

You couldn’t, however, blame your ever-growing belly on your injury. You needed a plan. A way out.

Loki was called away on a brief mission. Two days tops. Some local arms dealer was making a sale and was finally getting apprehended.

Loki had decided to go only because he saw you getting better. You were able to lift your arms without wincing in pain. The nausea was still there, but you couldn’t help it with all the medication you’d been taking.

So, he agreed to this quick mission. As soon as he returned, he planned to talk to you about what happened. Or failed to happen. A family.

He loved you. He knew that. He was hoping that you still loved him too. You might not have gotten the family now but going through this ordeal made him realize that he did want one. And he wanted it with you.

Ever since you were discharged into his care, Loki was operating on automatic. He had two rules for himself and was trudging through existence, barely living.

First rule: Always watch out for Violet. To take care of you. Be whatever you need. Whether that be a masseuse, a barista, or your protector from those nasty rumor-mongering agents working in the lower levels. He would always be there for you. To take care of you in your injured state.

Second rule: Give her space. He knew that being there for you, didn’t necessarily mean smothering you. He wanted you to be able to find yourself in this trying time and not be defined as his girlfriend or the mother of his lost child. He wanted you to be you. The person he fell in love with all those months ago.

Being away on this mission granted both of you time away from each other. To assess what you wanted from each other and continue with your lives.

“Hello.” You answered on your phone.

“Dearest.” He said low into the other end of the phone.

“Hey, Loki.”

“How are you feeling?”

“I’m better. Thank you.” You answered. Loki still felt your hesitation. He felt a chasm forming between the two of you.

“That’s good news. I’m glad you’re feeling better. Listen, darling, I was hoping to speak with you about something when I get back tomorrow.”

“Sure, Loki.” His name on your lips would normally send him in a downward spiral of ecstasy and longing. As of late, he’d long for any type of endearment. A simple ‘hun’ or ‘babe’ that you used to call him.

“All right then, I just wanted to check on you and see how you were doing.”

“I’m doing great. Thank you.” You lied. And Loki could hear it in your voice. You were not fine. He could sense it. He hung up the phone after a brief goodbye feeling trouble in his heart. This talk was going to be the end of your relationship. He could feel it. Something bad was on the horizon and he wouldn’t know how to cope.

Would there be any way to convince you otherwise? Convince you to stay in this relationship. He loves you. So very much. But is he selfless enough to let you go?

Loki was on one knee, looking down at the ground. He tried not to draw attention to himself as the Mad Titan walked in between his children. “Oh, don’t look so sad, Odinson. You will get your chance to prove yourself to me.” Loki froze. He did not want to look up. To see the death stare of Thanos looming over him. “We will need a guide after all. You are experienced in all things Midgardian. Are you not?” Thanos asked him. Loki nodded his head once, still unable to look him in the eye. “Excellent. We wouldn’t want your wife to be robbed of a husband and your child to be left orphaned, now. Would we?” Thanos asked in a threatening tenor. Loki looked up with horror carved onto his face. He saw Ebony Maw holding you with his telepathic power to restrain you and keep you quiet. While Midnight Proxima held a child in her arms, cradling the babe with recklessness. “I sense great power within this one, Odinson,” Thanos said waving his hand over the tiny babe. Their head- like a small bead under the Titan’s palm. “I sense a new fledgling in the Black Order.” “NOOO!” Loki yelled. His fear and anger pushed him up onto his feet as he pointed his dagger toward Thanos’ throat. Ebony Maw saw to stop Loki from his advances, leaving you unguarded and falling to the ground. “Loki!” You cried as Thanos picked you up by your neck. Your feet dangling beneath you. With his other hand, Thanos picked up your tiny babe from Proxima. “Choose, wisely. For your impudence, you can only keep one.” Loki’s eyes went wild. His breathing got rough and labored as he tried to move his frozen hand holding the dagger. Trying to inch it closer to Thanos’ throat. You shook your head as sobs wracked your heaving form. Your neck- caged in the firm grasp of the monster. “Loki. Loki, please. L-look at me. Look at me.” You whispered with your last breath. His eyes traveled to yours. They were red from crying, but now red from the ever-tightening grasp of the brute before him. “I love you, Loki.” You whispered. “Keep them safe.” “No. No. No!” Loki continued as he heard the snap of your neck.

Loki sat up from his horrible nightmare. The sheets surrounding him were drenched in the cold sweat that overtook his body. He reached for his phone ready to call you but looking at the current time, momentarily paused. You would be asleep by now and he did not want to trouble you any further.

This nightmare was by far, one of the worst he’s ever experienced. It was almost as clear and vivid as the waking world he was in now.

It troubled him wholly.

Amid the sorrow and fear, the only good that came out of that dream, a silver lining if you will, was that you both still had your baby. Loki was heartbroken that he never got a chance to see his child. To see whether they had your eyes or his lips.

If what Strange theorized was true about dreams and multiverse realities. Then somewhere out there…Oh, Norns.

It was like his other self was calling out to him, pleading for assistance. As if your other self was calling out to him, to remind him that you loved him.

He had to see you. Had to hold you in his arms and assure himself that you were there.

He got up and went straight to Rogers, time be damned. He needed to see you and no one was gonna stop him.

*~*Earlier that night*~*

You hung up the phone with Loki. Your heart felt like sharp vines were squeezing it. Winding tighter and tighter as the thorns bled your weak heart. You hated lying to Loki. You hated being in this complex. You hated the people. You hated the gossip. You hated yourself!

“Heimdall, I know you can see me.” You whispered out into the empty bedroom. “I know that you are powerful. And honest. And vigilant.”

“Flattery will get you nowhere with me young one.” He responded. As if you were transported, your surroundings changed to that of the gilded temple where he presides. “But I honor your sincerity and effort. What can I do for you?” You stood there not knowing how to ask or where to start.

“Have you…”

“Yes. I have seen all. I know all.” He says as his eyes dart down briefly to your abdomen.

“Does Odin know?”

“No, he does not. He has not asked. He has no inkling of what has transpired. Only that you are a significant part of his son’s life.” You nodded at Heimdall’s information. “Else, you would have been whisked away to the halls of Valaskjalf, don’t you agree?”

“Thank you for your discretion.”

“You did not come here to thank me for my silence. What is it that you wish to ask of me?”

“Shouldn’t you know already? You are the god of foresight.”

“I will have you ask, just the same.” He said patiently. You fidgeted just for a little while longer. The last month cramming through your mind like a fast-forward movie. “I can see why he loves you. You are strong-willed. And guileful, considering your plan so far.”

“I need safe passage. I need to hide from Loki.”

“Why?”

“Because he cannot know I still have this child.”

“Why not?”

“If he found out, then Odin will find out and the child will be taken from us.”

“Do you not trust your prince to defend you?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Why the inquisition?”

“Because I see things little one. I can see the past. The present. And the future. But what I cannot see is your reasoning. Why do you think your prince can not defend you?”

“BECAUSE I’M NOT WORTH IT, OKAY!? You happy?!” you shouted back at him. “I asked him to keep our relationship a secret because I knew he didn’t want to tie himself down with someone like me. Those nosy gossipmongers proved that when they found out about us and just started circling like hungry vultures. Did you see the toll it took on him? Having to defend me constantly from them.

“When he found out I was pregnant? He didn’t want anything to do with me anymore. The only reason why he’s with me now is out of guilt and duty. When he comes home tomorrow he would undoubtedly give me the ‘talk’ and he would break off all ties with me. So I’m giving him what he wants.” You stood there looking down to Heimdall’s feet, unable to look him in his golden eyes. Tears welled up in your eyes at what you had just confessed, not only to Heimdall but, to yourself.

“Yes. You two are a lot alike.” Heimdall said after a brief pause. “Gather your things. Small belongings. Call upon me when you’re ready. I will take you where you want to go.” He agreed.

“And you won’t tell him? Loki? You’ll keep it a secret?”

“It is considered treason to lie outright to a member of the royal family. Even more ludicrous to lie to the god of mischief.” He said matter-of-factly. You looked ashamed at having asked him to do something so heinous. “But I will shield you as much as I can.”

In a blink of an eye, you were back in your shared bedroom. Your heart beat fast as you moved about, gathering your things in a small duffel bag.

You looked around his room and noticed some books in the corner. Parenting and pregnancy books long forgotten and shoved to the side to collect cobwebs. You grabbed the topmost book thinking it might be helpful to get some info for yourself, now that Bruce will not be on hand to help you. After grabbing items from your old room, you called on Heimdall again and he transported you out of the compound.

⬅️Chapter 2 | Chapter 4 ➡️

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#writing ideas #fic prompt #loki fanfic #loki fluff #loki angst #mcu #loki laufeyson #loki fandom #tom hiddleston fanfic #loki x you #loki x reader #anonymous request #unplanned pregnancy #loki series #marvel fanfic

[gloomiebearwritings]

OOOOO HIIIIII :D

this might be big or small depending on how you see it but shang, kaui, hanzo, erron, shao, and kotal with a S/O who almost died in a car crash because of an earthquake and they had to get surgery because they were impaled like really bad? PLEASE MAKE IT ANGSTY I NEED SADNESS 💔 you dont have to take this if you don’t want to im fine with it OKAY THANKS BYEEE 🙂

It's so sad!!! 😭I'm sorry I had to leave Kotal out, it was getting a bit long and my brain was a little fizzled out! I hope ya like 'em!! ❤❤❤

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

Shang Tsung

When the news was brought to him that the disaster had caused you to be severely injured he dropped everything, his heart sinking to his stomach when he was told you may not make it. He demanded you get the best care possible, becoming furious when those taking care of you didn’t keep him as informed as he felt they should. 

Even though he was told you were stable he considered taking your soul if you didn’t make it in the end, keeping it close to him for as long as he can. He didn’t become rational again until he was told he could see you, and though you were still unconscious, he sat bedside and spoke to you, telling you how he’s right there for you. Though the moment you were stable enough to go home some time later you found he’d somewhat neglected his projects- being too concerned with you to focus.

He never truly left you alone after that, not wanting to risk losing you again, and not wanting to have to take your soul so soon. But in secrecy he kept the precious gold and glass ornament he would keep your soul safe in.

Kuai Liang

His heart felt like it had stopped when he was told you were caught in the accident, frantically trying to get more information from anyone who knew more. You were his everything, his beloved, so the idea of losing you made him feel ill. However, he fell to his knees when he was told you may not survive on the way to the hospital, begging you to please make it through it all. 

While he couldn’t see you until you were stable enough he paced around your home, eyes always falling on places you’d always sit or be. He quietly stared at your side of the bed, unable to bear the idea of that place no longer being warmed by you. 

The moment he was able to see you he dropped everything to come to your bedside. Seeing you so wounded hurt him; he told you he was there now, and that things would be okay- though truthfully, he was still scared. When you were strong enough to go home, he made sure you had your space to continue recovering, not letting anyone else really see you unless it was important.

Hanzo

He couldn’t handle the news as well as he wished he could, breaking down and begging to know if you had survived. Despite hearing that you had survived he could barely keep his head straight, demanding to know if you’ll make it. Even after being told you’d live, but needed intensive care he had a hard time staying strong- the fear of losing you crushing him every minute. The whole home felt cold without you, a feeling he couldn’t accept- an idea he refused to accept. You couldn’t die on him too, you just couldn’t.

He always dropped everything the moment he could visit you, telling you how much he loves you, and that he’s always going to be there. And as you recovered he became a little more lighthearted, smiling a bit more genuinely when he spoke to you. Sometimes another would accompany him, bringing little gifts like flowers to help keep you cheered up.

Upon coming home you’d find that most rejoiced, him having told everyone your progress in recovery. Though he kept you mostly to himself, wanting to embrace you and remind himself that you were really there, and had survived.

Erron

The idea of losing you hit him hard, reality sinking its teeth into him as he pleaded with whatever god was listening that you were alright. But when he was told you got caught in the disaster, and appeared to be severely wounded he had to bite back tears. He knew you had to live because you were such a strong person, he knew it, but it didn’t stop him from breaking down in private. Seated at the table he looked across to the chair you always sit in, unable to accept the idea that perhaps you’d never sit across from him again. 

When visitation was granted he gladly neglected his duties to come see you, telling everyone off- not caring what he’d face later. At your side he’d dote on you more than ever, telling you how you just had to make it because he loved you so much. Though these turned to pleads and tears as he’d hold your hand tightly, giving you the softest kisses he could to your forehead. 

Once you came home for the first time in what felt like forever to him, you’d find he’d made sure he had everything- blankets, pillows, anything to help keep you comfortable. He was told you could have long term pain from it all, and he accommodated the best he could to that; helping you reach things up above you or picking things up that you dropped.

Shao Kahn

You being caught up in a disaster so far away from him angered him, not at you, but at those who weren’t putting you before everyone else. He demanded that you get the best care, that he wouldn’t stand for you, his lover, to be put second. Despite his exterior however, in private he was distraught- the idea of losing you making him uneasy and agitated. 

While he couldn’t see you himself he sent out people to see you, taking gifts to you and telling him your progress. Whenever he was told you were making good progress is the only time he’d be openly joyful, prideful of your strength. He’d boast about how strong you were, saying you would survive because you were too stubborn to go down like that. 

Though once you were back in his arms you could feel how relieved he was, holding you as tightly against him as you could handle. You in his arms made his mind finally clear again; though he was as gentle as ever with you, seeing as you were still tender. Though now you found that others weren’t allowed to touch you unless it was to help with getting dressed when you were too sore.

#my works #mortal kombat #mortal kombat x reader #x reader #hanzo hasashi x reader #mk hanzo hasashi #mk scorpion #mk x reader #erron black #mk erron black #erron black x reader #mk sub zero #mk shang tsung #shang tsung x reader #shang tsung #mk shao kahn #shao kahn #shao kahn x reader

[misty-caligula]

A short disclaimer about Lott’s mental state:

For those who do not think that Lottie is actually being visited by some kind of forest god, but is in fact mentally ill, I just want to be very very clear:

Being psychotic in its’ various forms, whether schizophrenic, bipolar, borderline or whatever, is NOT the same thing as being “a dangerous person”. Being delusional, having hallucinations, these things do not say anything at all about you as a person, about your moral compass, or your value as a human. Psychotic people are not more dangerous that people who aren’t, in fact people with significant mental illnesses are generally only a real danger to themselves, and are much less likely to hurt those around them than people who don’t. (Not to mention at far far greater risk of harm FROM others due to stigma)

Lottie’s losing her grip on what’s real, and that’s a difficult thing to go through, but her PERSONALITY is the same. She still wants to protect those around her, she’s still guided by what is, in the end, a feeling of responsibility and care. Whether or not her feelings are particularly appropriate is open to discussion, but all the women are flawed in their mindsets, and Lottie’s no different. But when it comes down to it, think of psychosis as similar to entering another dimension. The rules are different, the scenery changes, but YOU are the same, and you will still act in ways that seem rational and logical and consistent to you as the person who understands the new rules. It won’t make you evil, it won’t make you violent, it won’t make you a bad person, it’ll mostly just make you confused and scared.

What makes Lottie’s mental state dangerous is that she’s surrounded by people who do not understand what’s happening to her. In the teen timeline they think she’s in contact with the spirit of the forest, in the adult timeline they ... well... let’s put a pin in that and see how it pans out, because there’s options there and I don’t want to get lost in the weeds.

Point is, if Lottie was in the cabin and was having a psychotic experience and believed that something malevolent would hurt her friends, but they all recognised that she wasn’t seeing clearly, then she would try very hard to protect them and they would accomodate her. They’d probably try to make her comfortable, to assuage her fears, maybe they’d try to play along to help her. They’d probably feel sorry for her. Whether they’d be up to the task of helping her or not is... hard to say, but she wouldn’t be a danger to them.

But Lott’s mental state is being mistaken for some genuine spiritual connection to a god. And when people start doing what she says, following along and coming up with their own interpretations of her reality, adding their own assumptions, and then feeding it back to her, to get scrambled once again? That’s a recipe for disaster, because pretty soon NOBODY is thinking clearly, and all it takes is ONE angry person in the mix, one violent urge unchecked, one ... unexpected drug-fueled party... and you just do not know what people will do with that, there’s no telling where it can lead.

And we can see this happen in the woods, more often than not Lottie doesn’t really have a strong grasp on what she should do next. She’s kind of dropping in and out. Sometimes she’s the antler queen, leading by example, but other times she’s confused and scared and out of her depth, just going with the flow. But those around her are building a better structure with the materials she’s providing them, and often they’re stepping up to act with certainty (think Mari insisting the she can get food without a gun, Travis grabbing the skull off the wall without a moment’s hesitation) and this is reinforcing to her and to them that she’s right, and that they’re justified in their actions because she’s right. It’s a feedback loop based on absolutely nothing that’s started to overwhelm them.

But again, Lott having delusions and hallucinations is NOT inherently dangerous or bad or anything of the sort. It simply is the way that millions of people IRL live. And I feel it absolutely needs to be explicitly talked about before people start throwing around judgements and assumptions about her - and the many real people she’s representing - based on bias and misunderstanding and stigmatism.

#yellowjackets #getting a bit real but I feel like it needs to be said

[kentrix11]

I ended up liking Fiammetta a lot more than expected, I generally like characters that seem stoic but are actually really emotional and they really nailed it with her.

I love how her face is usually a rock but she’s constantly bursting with anger at every moment.

I love how her operator files have the staff look at her and just go “This girl is really mentally ill” on what’s suppossed to be a physical check up.

I love how she would probably get along with Dusk because they both hate hollywood trash movies.

I just adore how she seeks revenge for an act that didn’t directly hurt her but instead hurt people close to her and she just eventually realizes that the people that were directly hurt have already forgiven the person responsable.

And most people would just think “Well if they forgive them why would I, who wasn’t even directly hurt be more angry than them” but even then she STILL can’t forgive it.

The fucking Pope and God could forgive Andoain and she would still not forgive him because this isn’t about religion or duty, this is about her sense of justice screaming for revenge over having to watch her crippled friend lose 8 years of her life and her other friend having to abandon her previous life.

It doesn’t matter if it doesn’t accomplish anything.

It doesn’t matter if it doesn’t make anything better.

It’s doesn matter if the direct victims don’t feel any better.

It doesn’t matter if this doesn’t help Laterano at all.

It doesn’t matter if this isn’t what the Pope or God want.

I also really like Andoain and how they build this parallel with him in which both of them are motivated at their core by an event in which people close to them were hurt and they were powerless to do anything about it, so they became obssesed with it, it was something that their own sense of justice deemed unforgivable, so they dedicated all of themselves to seek justice in their own way.

And there’s this layer of dishonesty to both in which Andoain clearly still loves Laterano and his old friends, when he’s still out of it he keeps saying that he does then immediately deniying it, but he refuses to admit to it because the path he needs to go through requires him to abandon all of that.

Fiammetta gives Andoain an opportunitty to apologize for everything he’s done, because she still cares for him, the reason she is this mad is BECAUSE she trusted in him and cared for him, but he won’t apologize because he considers all of it a part of his path towards making a greater good, so Fiammetta is gonna kill him.

So there’s this strong contrast between the person that had to destroy his own life, break the people around him to reach an answer to his obssesion and the person that had to deal with the weight of the broken pieces facing one another neither able to let go of their own obsession and see each other eye to eye.

#Arknights #Fiammetta #Andoain the Martyr #I talk a lot #guide ahead spoilers

[ronearoundblindly]

What if reader is older than Steve, like...10 years maybe(?) She could see his shyness, ambitious and gentle when they first meet. She never thot Steve would fell for her because of their age gap and she's insecure about herself...

Or the soft dark one...

Goddess!reader could cure Steve's illness and let him could join the military, but the price is he need to remain his virgin.

And if he break the rules...

what kind of "punishment" you think reader would do to him?😌😌💖💖💖

oh. my. god.

thots. n;dsdfieronviriv. THOTS. ndviniusniuelrhbvoer. THOTS. nzkdvuheiunruvps;dn;irfiunrfu.

Holy shit, bae. Here I am, minding my own business, writing some angst and romance, and you hit me with this glory. Gurl, WAT???

Super-Human Resources (Posted separately. Here, enjoy this cool 1k of softdark!smut from a gn!god!reader)

Warnings for zero editing, not overly-explicit filth, marginally subby!steve/bratty!steve, extreme orgasm denial, and FYI, I'm still going to hell.

Beg For My Mercy

He was so desperate that he didn’t think it through. The trade seemed so simple: health for sex. If he were strong, all these weakening maladies stripped away, he could help win a war. He could save so many lives. How could that possibly be only as valuable as forgoing sex? Why should Steve Rogers care about sex? He’s never cared about it before. The trade is genuinely too good to be true. It’s so easy, and he takes it.

And he gets everything he wants. He’s strong. He wins wars. He saves people—unfathomable numbers of people—and then it gets…complicated.

Steve gets attention. He gets accolades and commendations, awards and offers, including some other offers. They’re so easy to brush off at first. After decades, it gets a lot harder. He finds someone attractive, and then he has to stunt the relationship before anything escalates. Since he can’t explain why, they always distance from Steve afterward. He doesn’t blame them. He is starting to crack.

Steve skirts the edges of the rules. He tries to get away with as much as possible that doesn’t count as losing his virginity, which is a surprising amount actually, and that also works for quite a while. He’s just not satisfied. It feels too good to rub his aching cock along that precipice of danger, and he can’t resist.

And then he sees you.

No one else can see you smirking at him standing naked and sweaty above his temptation. His eyes are alight with fear and bone-crushing desire.

“There’s a price if you do this, Stevie,” you say, sweet like honey, thick like the honey can drown him.

He thinks, but Steve thinks with the wrong head and sinks into a tight and overwhelming heat. Fuck, how did he live so long without this?!

So he’s satisfied for a while that night. His partner gets taken care of, coming multiple times, and…Steve doesn’t. He can’t. Eventually, he has to make some excuse to get his date to leave because his dick hurts. He's still rock hard and dying to come.

He can still see you, the entity lurking in shadowy corners, that smirk still on your face, and so he thinks he understands. He can find the loophole.

Up until now, he could masturbate all he wanted; it’s not penetrative sex, so it should work. He takes himself in hand and tries everything that feels good. He can’t get there. His balls are so full and swollen that he’s crying. His skin is raw when he finally lets go. Steve's so tormented by this pressure cooker of need unable to explode inside him that he growls and pummels the pillows and mattress beneath him.

“Please,” he screams, burying his blotchy red face in the sheets. “Please HELP ME.”

The squeaking bed springs snap under his strong punches, and he crashes to the ground, desperately yelling for release until his words are incoherent.

You step forward, eyes softer with sympathy, and Steve looks hopeful, so hopeful for your aid.

“Are you ill, dear?” Your coo rips a whimper from his throat and a tear from his eye.

He can’t even touch his shaft anymore, so Steve clamps a death grip on his inner thigh and prays the pain shifts him beyond the horny wretch he’s become.

“It hurts,” he gasps. “Please.”

“But you didn’t keep your promise. You cannot follow directions, Steve Rogers. Why should I help you?”

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I needed—“ he cuts himself off in a moan when he watches your eyes drop down to his lap and stay there “—I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” he repeats in whispers.

You get closer and closer with each pathetic hiss of apology. The flush of pain and denied pleasure rages hot under the skin of his entire body, but this is what you wanted all along. You’ve been patient. Now he’s right where you want him.

“Are you going to do what I say?”

“Yes,” Steve groans, low and hungry.

“Do you promise?”

“Yes—oooh god.”

You lean down to his ear, knowing only he can feel the featherlight wisps of your touch along his arm. His heart stops in anticipation.

“Come.”

He’s fucked in mind, body, and spirit instantly, spurting into the air as if gravity’s gone from around him. It hurts in the most euphoric way. He can’t handle the ecstasy and devastation colliding at once. Steve finishes untouched and collapses to the broken bed. He grabs the sheets surrounding him and bites down because it’s not stopping. He’s wrung dry for what feels like hours, all the while feeling nothing but the cool air of the room around him. From the grey edges of his vision, he nearly passes out, his throat hoarse from shrieking out with each tensed pulse of orgasm. It’s the best worst experience, and he won’t recover from it in his long, long lifetime.

His heaving breaths slow as you continue to watch him, hovering above his glorious body, enjoying the wreckage to full effect. Once he’s composed enough to unhide his face, eyes still unfocused and glassy, you drag a gentle hand down his chest, and he shivers violently.

It’s finally time to tell Steve what he’s sold his soul for, what he owes you in return for this kindness, what the price for your pity is.

“You will never come again without my permission.” Your soothing, sweet tone rakes dangerously over his spent body. “Never. Not once. I will be here every time, and you, Stevie, will have to beg for my mercy.”

and whoops, I completely forgot to say thank you for the love! 🥺💚🥰 You're too kind to me, bebe.

More on my Masterlist, and if you enjoyed this, please consider liking and/or reblogging! It's like getting a hug every time 🤗

#ro answers #steve rogers #steve rogers fanfiction #steve x reader #steve rogers fic #fanfic #steve x you #smut #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers one shot #steven grant rogers #steve rogers smut #soft dark fic #brat!steve rogers kinda #captain america x reader #captain america #captain america fanfiction #captain america smut #gn!reader #dark!reader

[rattlingheart]

i finally decided to sit down and write out how i've been feeling.

Am I selfish? Am I jealous? Am I a bad person to the people I care about? Are they bad to me? I don’t understand why it’s so wrong of me to have wants. All i want is someone for myself. I want someone who would do anything for me at any time. I want to be cared for, i want to be loved and i want to be wanted and needed. Why is that so bad? I want my own person. Everyone else has their own so why cant i have one too? Every time i try to explain it i end up looking like the bad guy. Maybe my actions arent great and maybe i feel things too strong but none of that would matter if i had someone who understood. Nobody ive ever talked to knows what im going through because everyone at one point or another has had their person. They dont know what its like to think you have someone and then lose them to someone else, over and over and over again. At this point it just feels hopeless and im starting to feel like an idiot for ever thinking it could happen. I know it sounds conceited to think im the only person to ever feel this way but thats just how it feels. I want to be wanted so bad it hurts. Every day i spend alone makes me feel worse and worse. I dont know how much i can take. I want someone i can call and theyll answer right away, happy to hear me and ill be happy to hear them. I want to be able to have hours of conversation while also being comfortable with hours of silence. I want someone to think of me in a romantic way. To want to take me on dates and bring me flowers and show me how much they love me. I want to be so yearned for that it makes their stomach hurt. I want someone to be sad when they cant see me and angry when i talk to someone else. I want someone to put my picture in their wallet, or put a photo of us on their lockscreen. To be the first thing on someones mind when they wake up and the last thing before they fall asleep. In my eighteen years of life ive never come close. People say everyone has their time and everyone has their person, and i want to believe that so bad. I wish i could trick myself into being okay by myself and to just accept that my time wil come and that someone will love me but i just cant. Do you know how pathetic that feels? To know you have the potential to love and be loved but to never feel it? To just be fooled over and over to the point of not knowing what it feels like to have a crush anymore, not knowing if they actually want to get to know me or if they just need enough of my interests to get into my bed. I would love for someone to want to know me.

I want someone to know everything about me oh my god. I want to tell them everything about me and they tell me everything about them. I want to know someones deepest secrets and for them to know mine. I want to not be judged for the way i act, think, and feel. I promise i wont judge you if you dont judge me. I just cant understand why this is too much to ask. I want someone to meet my parents and my friends. I want to be a part of someone else's family and theyre a part of mine. I want to be thought of when holidays come around, and for them to know my birthday. I want them to ask if im coming over for dinner or if youre coming to mine. I want to be seen as a pair, if one of us is there then so is the other. It doesnt have to last forever, im not asking for a marriage partner, just a taste. I just want to dip my toes into the pool of love, i dont have to swim in it. Eventually i want to meet someone that just pulls me in with them and drowns me. I want to be smothered with love until it makes me sick. It would feel so much better than being alone. I cant even imagine how it would feel to be introduced as a girlfriend. For someone to show their family and friends my picture and to be excited about it. I hate begging for things but please. Its all ive ever wanted and yet its making me into a monster. I dont feel like myself anymore, i feel like a shell. It feels like my heart is just rattling around in my body making noise for someone to hear her. The butterfly in my stomach is dying, she hasn't fluttered in so long. I want her to be happy again, for me to just think of someone and she does somersaults around my stomach. I want to be nervous to go on a first date, maybe even a second or a third. I want to have a kiss at the end of the date like how it happens in the movies. I want someone to bring me home and want to see me again. I want to be a girlfriend, i cant wait until the day someone asks me. I think ill die right there in that moment. I want to say i love you. I want someone to say they love me every time they see me, every time they leave my presence and every time they enter it. I want people to know that im loved, and to know that i love the person loving me. I want to love someone so hard that just the thought of not having them in my life makes me sick. I want it to make me cry and i want them to comfort me and say it will never happen. I want them to lie to me. So that when the day eventually comes and they tell me they no longer love me I can have faith that ill find someone else to love me. I want to have a breakup that hurts me so bad i cant leave my bed and i stop talking to people for weeks. I want to lay in my bed and rot away just reminiscing over the way they loved me for so long. I want to know the feeling of having my heart ripped out of my chest and taken from me. I want to know the feeling of growing a new heart for someone else. And for that person to nurse me back to health, back to my original self. I know its strange to want heart break but as someone whos never experienced it, i want to know what its like. I want to experience every aspect of a relationship. I want to fight and argue. I want to apologize and make amends because we both know it isnt worth it to be mad at each other. I want someone to tell me that theyre sorry, and that theyll never yell at me again. I want someone to run their fingers through my hair as i lay my head in their lap. I want someone to hold me, hold my hand, hold my body, hold my heart. I want to put my legs on someones lap and for them to rub my legs just to know theyre there. I want to have someone to grab in a crowded room, to hold my hand so i dont get lost.

I want someone on the same level as me and i pray they never leave me behind. I just want to be loved and cared for the same as everyone else in my life. I want to feel like an equal to the people around me and not like an alien. Ive spent years building myself up for other people to notice me. Ive been noticed, but no one has cared enough to stay. It makes me feel so awful. Ive learned to keep things to myself, to not overshare. I try to go after what i want but it always ends badly, i always end up looking desperate. People use desperate in a bad way but i cant help but think, is that not what i am? I am desperate. I am so unbelievably desperate for someone to want me. I cant sit with my own thoughts or it starts to make me physically and mentally ill. I need someone to share them with. I need someone to talk to. I need somebody to be there for me. I need my own person. Someone i dont have to share and someone who will always be there when i need them. Someone who will know i need them before i even realize it. I think if i had someone to pour my thoughts onto and pour all of the love inside of me, id be doing a lot better. Im just scared that what if i find my person but they dont want me in my current state? What if im too much to handle and too much to take care of. I guess theyre not my person then. When i finally do find my person, someone just for me, they will love me for who i am, what i am, and they will see the good in me. Is that too much to ask?

#love #long reads #relationship #vent

[arachnidiots-a]

peter: 2 & 10 liam: 8 & 14 (i specified this time!!!!)

sad headcanon q’s… 

2. how does your muse handle grief?

i swear i've answered something akin to this before but i cannot find it anywhere on my blog so maybe i imagined it? peter's atrocious at handling grief. he's an emotional wreck, he gets rageful, he gets violent and he feels everything so strongly all at once. grief is so strong in him and he spends a long time dealing with it. he talks to the dead, writes letters. it hurts for a very long time, and god forbid anybody hands them or tries to explain the five stages to them. they've heard it before, but nobody has instructions on what to do when you're 18 and haunted and alone.

10. what is the worst illness your muse has ever had?

in regards to like infections and physical illnesses, the worst peter's been through is probably a case of bronchitis as a kid and the reaction to the spider-bite. he missed a good portion of school to both, with the spider-bite initially mimicking the effects of a flu.

8. what does your muse fear losing the most?

it's tied between losing roxy and losing home for liam. in a lot of ways they're interconnected. home can be found with roxy, life at home on their earth is with roxy. they want to go home when they're stuck in the multiverse, and after so many months of it the fear really starts to set in that they'll never see their peter, their cousin, their new york ever again.

14. what is the worst injury your muse has ever received? 

there's been so many, it's hard to say which is the worst but based on what's left the worst scar it's either: one of their early fights as a spider-man where they got dragged horribly enough to leave a series of scars on their arm and side OR a fight in which they got impaled in their shoulder and have a lasting reminder in the form of a 4-inch scar.

#mays death was so fundamental in peters story and the change in the kid we knew #tw death mention #tw illness #tw injury #tw scars #INQUIRE WITHIN / asks #PBP. STILL TURNING OUT / headcanons #LK. BELIEVE / headcanons

[bl00dybat]

i miss being pure a lot. it was ruined so early. it didnt even start with SA it started with exposure to sexuality so young and being sexualized. why tf was i sexualizing myself so young?? why tf were people sexualizing me so young and showing me sexual shit?? it feels so disgusting and ive always felt disgusting. it all just escalated with people sexualizing me as well as a kid, harassing me, touching me AHH so much. spring and summer gives me nostalgic feelings from when i was young and nothing mattered. i hate working and seeing kids come in with their parents so full of love and life, i feel so jealous i want to cry, i wish i could start over. i know everyone wishes they were a kid again and having a child is like being able to relive it yourself and shape them in a better way than what you had. i could never have a kid. my parents didnt even know i was being tainted and i felt too much shame to tell them. being think wont resort me back to being a child. i know this. but even as a kid i had in my mind i needed to be small. the more i gained weight the more i appeared like a girl and the more disgusted i felt with myself. being small meant control and looking more masculine. it still feels that way. itll be so long before i can get surgeries and really feel complete. until then i want to shed myself of this shame full of fat. ive failed at restricting these past 3 days and i feel so ill. i was so close to 149. so fucking close. i had to be a fat piece of shit and just stuff my fucking face. craving a bit of comfort and distraction from what i feel. from going to sleep. i dont want to be forced to relive the pain everytime i go to bed. its always something horrible in some twisted way. i dont want to sleep and acknowledge this day is truly over and tomorrow i am still this person. i have to learn to love myself or i can never enjoy this life. i wish it was easier to not have such strong restrictions on what i feel is ok for me to be and do. i keep relapsing in self harm and i know being in servers that have enablers for sh and ed doesnt fucking help but god i just dont want to feel alone. i cant confide in anyone here it just causes more worry and pain and its so difficult to see them suffer because im struggling so much. theres nowhere to hide but here and i feel like eventually itll be discovered and ill be sent to a hospital or some shit to go through the same cycle ive been through 8 times before, just wasting peoples time and money. i do try to get better and not keep up horrible coping skills nothing fucking works nothing is enough to distract running away doesnt help i dont want to run but i dont want to be beat up by my brain anymorw i just want to feel numb i just want to be hurt I JUST WANT TO BE HURT please anything to make this shutupni dont want to see horrible flashbacks anymoreni hate this ptsd i hate the pain i hate the ghosts i dont want a life full of trauma i dony want to focus on all the bad i want to be ok so badly but none of this is okay my body isnt okay ill neveg be okay at this weight i have to punish myself by not eating people spend too much on me as is and its so costly just to keep me alive why bother with the extra shit?? i want to be loved and coveted but also hated and beaten until i have no choice but to die, i never reached my goals i never became a tattoo artist it is so painful to lose what little progress ive made in life but it is more painful than torturing myself everyday unconsciously? its painful to think all memoriesnof this life could be erased, nothing i did ever mattered, a handful of people remember me and when theyre gone it willnbe nobody. but i feel like such a shitstain in the world anyway and undeserving of being remembered. i already fuckednup so much please just let me restart. i would if it wouldnt hurt my bf and family so much. its torture. why be hurt because of losing me? there is nothing that is lost. i promise i dont matter and ive made you think i matter out of desperation. im sorry.

[jpegthedogthing]

No matter how much I think I'm resilient to it I will never be strong enough to resist crying over Rain World lore. Putting my rambles under a read more

TLDR: Rain World's unfairness persists far past the unforgiving ecosystem/gameplay. And I'm emotional about it

Nobody is given a fair situation. Everyone has a different struggle to grapple with. Some worse off than others. It's sad for every party involved, and not everyone gets a happy ending. It's not fair, just like life isn't fair, and it's truly heartbreaking. Not even the "happy endings" are happy, because then Saint's timeline comes around and shows that despite everything the others did... It doesn't really matter.

Every iterator grappling with the fear and unknown of SOS' passing. Moon's fall, Pebbles' sickness... Survivor, Monk, and Artificer losing their family. Hunter is sick too. Rivulet is constantly under pressure, Spearmaster is doomed to be outcast and hurt for its purpose.

I think the only character we know who gets a nice ending is Gourmand, the only one who isn't fighting against something bigger than themself. Still, coming across HLL would probably leave a mark, mental or otherwise..

Even Saint, the one who wraps everything up, who undoes everything and was there beginning to end, is trapped. The only slugcat who may truly be aware of the cycle, meant to live out their eons over and over... Meant to be the thing that cuts the split ends. Who "fixes" the things done.

But nothing is fixable. The issues will repeat every cycle, Pebbles' illness will never go. Even once all the rot has frozen over, he is sick, decrepit. Unable to speak properly. Even Moon, who was aided and turned back online through many different slug's help, can never be truly fixed. She can float again, sure, but she is still broken. Still severed from her umbilical.

It's harrowing. The world of Rain World doesn't care, it has no feelings. It has no personification. It just is the world, the environment, the unfairness. It's not controllable, not by anyone. Not even by the Gods of the world.

The ecosystem will break down again and again. Pebbles will fail an experiment again and again. Moon will fall. Again and again. Every slugcat is doomed to their path, and even by going a different direction to get there, will end up in the same place.

The cycle is inescapable, unless you completely give yourself to ascension. And even that has its caveats, shown by the Echos....

I only have a basic understanding of the lore so I may have some things wrong. This post stands regardless

#Especially with the animations and whatnot the fandom puts out. God you guys really know how to channel that emotional turmoil #jpeg barks #rain world #downpour spoilers #Mom came in and stopped me while I was watching a bunch of animations and crying over them lol. #Thanks for stopping my doom spiral mom but I definitely still had thoughts about it.

[dex-starr]

I admit it. I grew to need you. Far more than you realized, not that I’m ashamed of it. But I reached the point where I didn’t know how to function without you. I just wasn’t willing to say it out loud or show it. Part of my problem was I grew comfortable but not in the sense of like softening up to you, I grew comfortable not rocking the boat. When I met you, when I decided to be with you — when I admitted my feelings to you I decided to become a person who rocks the boat to get what they want. It’s why I pushed, because I had strong feelings I didn’t expect to have. Those kept growing. Somewhere in there something made me complacent in the wrong way. Something scared me or maybe multiple things did and I was reminded of losing things that are precious to me. So I played it safe, I played it so safe it frustrated you to no end. It was an unfair thing to do when our dreams and goals were put very clearly.

Regardless of whatever crisis I’m having — identity wise, career wise, mental illness wise — I didn’t do what I intended to do and that caused a lot of hurt on both ends. Too much to repair maybe. It’s funny — I still feel that drive in me somewhere. I feel that cockiness and assuredness that kept on emerging in me because of you and because I wanted to be with you. I needed you and that was absolutely fine — but I wasn’t letting that occur because I was afraid to put this responsibility on you. That was kind of dumb of me I mean I was supposed to rely on you and didn’t let myself do that. I could still be all these other things but show you the parts no one else sees. But I just lost myself a bit, I mean I’m still kind of lost. Illness made it hard to be me because I was physically miserable to the point it affected my mind and quality of life. My depression was out of control — that’s better now. But man my ADHD is wild and I see the problems it causes. I see how contentious I can be, I don’t need to be that to you or someone who gets that close. I’ll still be like that with the rest of the world most likely. It’s difficult to rewrite almost two decades of shitty experiences.

God I think I can be so fucking great sometimes. When I ride that wave I do things that make people happy and proud and I love it. But when I’m misguided I hurt everyone and lose the things I care for the most. When I get scared I pull away and it seems like I don’t care, but I do I just don’t want to fuck it up even more. That little unhinged don’t give a fuck go for it part of me wants to risk again but very specifically. It’s kind of pointless to though, like you’re not seeing this. You’d doubt what I’d say and what I would do. You have good reasons to, I don’t have a great track record but it’s not horrid. The problem is it’s my word fighting against the wiring of my brain there. CBT helps some but man I need medication. I need it so bad. Not being able to get it due to shortages is killing me.

I can only ride the good hyper-focus and hyper-fixations for so long, it’s much different than what I felt about being together bc like yeah there were a lot of things that sucked about distance. Too many things. Too many things I couldn’t explain well enough. Too many things I didn’t have answers about, too many things that got dropped for reasons I didn’t even know why I was doing it. I was really trying to be good though, I was trying to be good husband material it’s just hard man I don’t have good examples. I learn through trial and so much error. I have reached here, this person I have because of error. Because of the errors I was so afraid to tell you of, the errors I still needed to break. I know I’m good — I could be better and improve a lot but I at least know this.

The only things I can point at that may be bad are my anger at the world and contentiousness because of it. I’m abrasive when I want to be, I don’t fucking care when I want to. I can be spiteful but not act on it. I can be so many bad things. I can let you down so much as a person that is a harsh truth that I have accepted because I want to work on these things. I need to do accept them in order to work on it.

#shut up pls dex #feelings are difficult when you're a dumbass #the adhd experience #big ramble #ramble ramble ramble can’t sleep

[queenclaudiabrown]

The Scarecrow | Chapter Thirteen: To Burn A Scarecrow

     Zak wasn't convinced that Grace wouldn't find them in the shed, but Melody was confident she wouldn't think to check there. They were huddled on the mattress under the only window, which was filthily caked with God knows how much pollen and dust, and they weren't messing with lights or moving around much. With any luck, Grace wouldn't find them.

     'With any luck, Grace wouldn't find them.' How had things changed so much in a week? When they had come here, Grace had been a friend and girlfriend and although she set some teeth on edge, nobody would've wished any ill on her or thought her capable of hurting anyone. Back when she had first vanished, Marty had mentioned the time she dropped ice down his back and felt guilty for hours about it. Had everything been fake, a manipulation? Had she spent every moment carefully constructing every word and action and facial expression to lure seven people into her spider's web for the sole purpose of tricking them into coming here like lambs to the slaughter?

     "Well, Grace said she was kept in a cave, and the video we got of Eric-" Zak cut himself off, refusing to say any of the words that crossed their minds. He swallowed and tried again: "The video we got looked like it was filmed in a cave. So I'm just thinking...."

     "...She's using a cave as her base of operations." Melody nodded understandingly.

    Zak cracked a grin. "I was gonna say 'lair', but that works too."

     Melody's mouth quirked in a brief smirk. "'Lair' is better." She let out a deep breath, and it was as if all her youth and energy had gone out of her with the air. "So, we find which cave she's slunk back to. And then what? She's viciously murdered five people in a variety of different ways- gruesome, horrific, brutal ways, including torture. Natalie was a runner, she was fit and strong and she got tossed down a well. We don't stand a chance, Zak. I don't want to die, and I'm sure as h3ll not watching you die too. I've lost too many friends already."

     He placed a hand on her shoulder in a weak attempt at comfort, though it was greatly appreciated. "I know. I'm not losing you either, and I'm not too cozy with the thought of the Grim Reaper coming to pay me a visit too. But Grace has to be stopped, at any cost. We can't tie her up and leave her here; she's smart enough to get free, and if we brought her with us she could be seen. We can't bring her to the police; she had us fooled so well she could easily get cops- or at least public opinion- on her side. She's...She's too dangerous to be left alive."

     A silence hung between them, dark and heavy with that statement.

    "I know." Melody responded after a moment, and that simple two-worded utterance did nothing to ease the sick feeling in their guts. They were barely more than kids, and here they were, agreeing that they were going to kill another human being. She had been their friend once upon a time, and now they were planning on how to murder her.

     "How are we going to do this, Mel?" Zak groaned. "We've got next to nothing as far as supplies go. We haven't eaten or slept properly in ages- all we've got are these stale-д$$ crackers. It could take us days to find her. Meanwhile, she's sleeping easy, eating relatively well, and knows this place like the back of her hand. We're at a massive disadvantage."

     Melody nodded and ran a dirty hand through her tangled, oily hair in frustrated thought, wincing at the contact and pulling her hand back in disgust. "Yeah, I know." She opened the bag and poked through it aimlessly for a moment. But then her expression shifted ever so slightly, her head tilting and her brows furrowing before the corners of her lips twitched.

     Zak was immediately suspicious. "Uh-oh, what's that face for? What is it? Don't keep me in the dark, lady, tell me! What do we have?"

     Melody smirked, a devious expression, and looked up at him with mischief in her chocolate eyes as she produced something out of the bag. "Something she gave us."

     Melody and Zak walked across the fields together, with everything they had left on their persons. Melody carried the shotgun, fully loaded, and Zak was armed with all their knives and a hammer. He felt pretty useless in comparison to her, but he was still armed to the teeth, and his part in their plan was vital.

     They had begun systematically working their way through the ranch's caves, searching even the smallest thoroughly for any sign of Grace.

     Quietly they entered the next one, always at the ready to enact their plan at a moment's notice. However, as they crept into this one, they were quickly met with low noises. Exchanging looks, they peered around a crook in the passageway and were met with the sight of their target standing turned away from them.

     Grace was back in her scarecrow costume, but the top of her coveralls were undone and hung from her waist and hips. Clad in a tank top underneath, she had plastered band-aids across the thin crimson lines cut into her by Zak's blade contraption, and one strap of her singlet was pulled off her shoulder to further expose the burn Melody had inflicted as she applied cream to it. Her weapons seemed to have all been piled on the same table she had laid out the torture devices that she'd inflicted upon Eric, and nearby was an assortment of camping supplies, including a sleeping bag and cookstove.

     Zak looked to Melody again for confirmation, and she quietly passed him the shotgun, producing a camera from her bag- the same camera that had recorded Eric's horrific murder and been delivered in his corpse, the same thing that Melody had realized could be used against Grace. She positioned herself as best out of view as possible, keeping the camera pointed at Grace, and took the shotgun back.

     Drawing in a deep breath to fortify himself, Zak curled his hands into fists to keep them from shaking, then stuffed them in his pockets to hide them. He swallowed bitterly, barely able to force the action to complete itself. He wouldn't admit it, not even to himself, but he was terrified right down to his core. The plan was a good one, and it had to be done for justice's sake at the very least, but it wasn't without flaw, or risk. Any tiny error could be detrimental to the operation.

     After a moment, he summoned all his courage and took a long look at Melody- all her fierce beauty and determination, unwavering even in the face of monsters who masqueraded as friends.

     Zak stepped into the main chamber of the cave, advancing slowly. "Grace."

     The blonde froze, every inch of lean muscle going taut, exposed shoulders tensing. She turned her head slowly, eyes narrowed dangerously. "Zak." She eyed him critically, sweeping him thoroughly up and down with her steel blue gaze. "Did you come here to kill me?" Her voice was flat.

     "No." He breathed, the tone of it suggesting horror at the mere thought. "Grace, no." He put up his hands placatingly, forcing down the sick feeling in his stomach. "No, I just came here to talk. I brought all these knives so Melody wouldn't have them."

     She tilted her head thoughtfully. "Something happen with you and Melody? Just hours ago you seemed like best friends."

     Zak forced a scoff. "Hardly. That controlling little b¡tch has been commanding us about all since we met her. Honestly, I admire you for breaking free of her bossiness." The lie tasted like ash and bile.

     Grace smirked. "It's a relief to hear you say that. Even Marty seemed to worship the ground beneath her shoes. So why are you here?"

     "Honestly? I wanted to talk to you. Can I-?" He gestured to his knives, inching toward the table around her in a wide arc to keep her calm. She let him strip off the blades, piling the sharp silver objects on the table along with her weapons. She watched him remove each and every one, and when he appeared to be free of every one of them, he stepped away from the table, carefully positioning himself between the all-you-can-stab buffet and her.

     Her eyes narrowed. "Give me a spin; I want to be sure you're not hiding any." He was- down the side of his boot, but it was cleverly hidden- yet he complied anyway. After a moment, she nodded. "Okay. So what did you want to talk about?"

     "Well, we're both in agreement that Melody is not our friend. What if... What if I lured her somewhere, or brought you to her, so we could kill her, and in exchange..." He let the offer hang in the air for a moment, testing the waters. "...you let me live?"

     Melody shifted uncomfortably. They'd been over this multiple times, rehearsing and adjusting and practicing so much she could've done it herself under different circumstances. But his delivery... his delivery was good. Almost too good. For a moment, the brunette wondered if maybe he was being genuine with the pale-haired murderer. Even if he was and this was some sick double- or triple-cross, perish the thought, she had the camera and she had the gun. She could take them both out and stroll out with the evidence if it came down to it.

     "Oh Zak." Grace sighed, almost ruefully. "It's more complicated than that. This isn't a... personal vendetta, a petty feud. I know it must look like that, but there's a lot on the line for me here. Bringing people here to kill them wasn't my idea... it's been done in my family for generations."

     Zak and Melody frowned in unison, both baffled by that statement. His façade faltered, genuine confusion creeping onto his face. "What?"

     The blonde chuckled. "See, way back in Civil War days- 1862, specifically- my ancestor Maggie Davis was sixteen years old, and she her older brother Anthony was fighting for the Confederacy. Maggie got it in her head to prove herself to her parents, so she kidnapped half a dozen or so Northeners- a whole family, actually- and killed them all. It was remarkable, actually, how she did it. She traveled almost fifty miles altogether on foot to do it. Her parents were disgusted at her act of bravery, so she killed them too. What Maggie didn't know was she was pregnant at the time, but she did soon enough. Her son Arthur was born soon enough later, and she took good care of him and her four-year-old brother James. Everyone else thought her parents had succumbed to sickness and Arthur was her brother as well, and even though they tried, she refused to get married- said she wanted her big brother to give her away in place of their father. When Anthony came home from the war and found out what she'd done, he was angry with her. She explained to him that he had to stick with her for James and Anthony's sakes, so he ended up becoming a police officer and looked after them. They raised those little boys well and taught them that killing like she had was how one proved their worth. In time, the Davis family got everyone in Arbela on their side. Those that didn't agree were killed or expulsed. With the law enforcement on our side, everyone we kill in our rite of passage, as I have done, gets their death explained away. So you see, even if Melody gets out, they're not going to punish me for killing all our friends." Her smirk dropped. "They'll be angry with me for not getting everyone, and I'll be punished and I'll have to do this whole thing all over again. It was enough hassle with all the effort I put into this, I'd really rather not do it again."

     Zak thought he was going to be sick. He wanted nothing more than to hit the deck and shout for Melody to pump Grace full of lead, rid the Earth of this disgusting, vile human being who delighted in her wickedness and saw the atrocities she'd done as a hassle instead of what they really were.

     But so much was at stake, and he had a job to do, regardless of his feelings.

     So he swallowed the bile that threatened to rise and spill out of his throat, and he softened his expression into a cross between sympathy and the moon-eyed adoration he'd so often observed on Marty's face. "I knew there was more to you than that sweet façade you put out for everybody else." He said, fighting to keep himself physically relaxed. "Marty, he wasn't right for you." The slander of his best friend dried his throat like a mouthful of ash. "He was a fool, too soft to..." he paused, searching for the right word as he reached up and moved a lock of blonde hair aside to look her in the eye. "...cherish you for who you are. He could never have handled your family, your traditions. That's why you killed him, isn't it?" His voice was barely more than a whisper now; any louder and he feared it would crack. "You were just playing with him, using him, but when you didn't need him anymore, you killed him."

     Grace tilted her head, frowning. "How do you figure that one, huh?"

     He forced a smile onto his lips. "Why do you think I stuck by Melody for so long? I thought you were dead, and Melody was doing a good job at protecting everybody. Every day, I prayed she'd get herself killed to save us. When you came back, and I wanted nothing more than to take you and make a run for it, leave Melody and Marty to fend for themselves. And then... and then Melody woke me up and told me you were the scarecrow, and everything made sense. And I knew what I had to do."

     There was silence for a long moment, and Melody held her breath as Zak struggled to keep his composure, keep up the illusion. Grace's eyes bored into his own, piercing, analyzing, scrutinizing. The tension in the air was like a pair of massive hands that wrapped strangling-tight around Zak and Melody's throats.

     Abruptly, Grace smirked ever so barely and spoke again. "I should've killed that ß¡tch ages ago." She snarled.

    Her hands seized Zak and pulled him down to her, slamming her mouth to his. Repulsed but all too well aware that he needed to play the part, Zak kissed her back. Melody, also revolted, made a face of disgust, and shuffled in place, glancing away briefly to make sure she wouldn't bump into something and cause a sound.

     There was a sound, but not from her- from Zak. As she looked up in alarm, he broke the kiss, body suddenly stiffened and his fingers like claws where they gripped her bare arms. His body convulsed with a semblance of a cough that painted his lips red. "Grace, what did you-?" He cut himself off, betrayal and dread intermingled in his voice.

     And then Melody saw it: a knife- a small one, probably from the kitchen- as Grace jerked it out of Zak's side, its silver blade coated wetly with dark crimson. The wound was halfway down his ribcage and the blade was about four inches long; most likely it had punctured a lung.

     Melody threw the plan out the metaphorical window and burst out of her hiding place and into the main chamber of the cave, raising the shotgun. Grace's head snapped to the side, eyes widening for only a moment. And then she was a whirlwind of deadly movement, a tornado, a hurricane. She spun Zak around so his back was to her front and pinned him in place with one arm like a steel bar, then pressed the knife to his throat.

     "I've punctured one of his lungs, and it will kill him if he doesn't get to a hospital soon." Grace explained. "However, I could get him to one in time to save his life, and I'm willing to do so. But you're gonna have to drop the gun."

     Torn, Melody readjusted her sweaty-palmed grip on the shotgun. Zak's life was precious, and if there was even a tiny chance she could save him, she felt obligated to take it. But Grace was a monster who had killed at least five people- horribly, gruesomely, viciously- and enjoyed it, and with an entire corrupt town on her side, killing her might be worth more than one man whose fate was already up in the air.

     It was a terrible choice that no one should have to make, and yet here the burden of it sat, heavy on the shoulders of a twenty-one-year-old woman.

     Her eyes flicked to Zak's face, worried for his condition, and their eyes met. His softened, as if he couldn't feel the pain of his lung filling with blood or the hole in his side. She watched as his bloodied lips mouthed three words silently to her. But they weren't a warning, an instruction, even a plea.

     They were 'I love you'.

     Melody frowned ever so slightly- what? Was it a friendly statement, or something deeper? Was he in love with her? If so, was that why he'd always agreed with her, stood up to Eric in her defense, trusted her so steadfastly, protected her at every turn? Tears bloomed in her eyes, mercifully not enough to blur or otherwise obscure her vision, and her grip tightened on the gun, knuckles paling. A sick feeling snarled in her gut; something was about to go even more horribly wrong than it already had.

     Then his mouth, stained rubescent, twitched upward into a tiny smile, almost rueful but still genuine. Then his penny-brown eyes closed and he drew in a resolute breath.

     And with a mighty wrenching of his own body, Zak twisted resolutely in Grace's hold. The gleaming silver edge of her knife, razor-sharp, sliced his throat at the action, crimson sluicing over her hand as he crumpled to the ground. But as he dropped, his arm flung out and his hand slapped down on the table of weapons, and it curled around another blade. Grace was still holding him tightly and as such was pulled down by his weight, and as he hit the ground- on his side since he had twisted in her hold- he plunged the sickle he'd just grabbed into her lower abdomen. Sadly, it was a curved blade, so it didn't go in very deeply at all, but it was still a wound.

     All this happened in just a few seconds, so incredibly fast that neither woman could truly react to it until it was over. Both women's eyes were wide- Grace's with shock at the unexpected action, and Melody's with raw horror. But the pit in her stomach only worsened as she answered her own question. Zak hadn't confessed his feelings just because he could.

     It had been a goodbye.

     He had sacrificed himself so she could kill Grace.

     Grace, who was still staring stunned at him as she slowly let go of his shaking, choking form and stood straight again, clapping a hand over her new injury. She raised her head to look at Melody, and was met with a burning stare of hatred and determination.

     No hesitation remained in her eyes.

     With a thunderous crack, Melody fired, and the force of the buckshot's impact had Grace stumbling back. Most people wouldn't shoot again, but Melody wasn't most people. She pumped the gun, loading another shell into the chamber, and fired again. And again and again and again and again, all six shells in rapid succession pumped into Grace.

     Admittedly, as Melody ejected the last smoking casing from the gun, there wasn't much left of Grace's trunk. Her back was up against the cave wall, pinned there with the force of six shots, but now her legs gave out and she sank down, sliding down the rock and leaving a rubescent streak of blood. Her eyes were still wide, but now they fought to stay open as blood loss and pain took their toll. Her stomach and chest were a gory mess.

     "That's never happened before." Grace choked out.

     Those were her last words. A moment later, under Melody's cold and unflinching gaze, her head dropped to the side and her blue eyes pointed unseeingly at the floor of the cave. Grace Davis was dead, and hopefully with her, a horrible and sadistic tradition.

     Once the scarecrow had breathed her last, Melody finally moved forward, a numbness seeming to weigh her down. She dropped the shotgun with a loud clatter, and she knelt at Zak's side. He was still alive, but just barely, choking to death on his own blood. He was barely moving anymore, no longer shaking and convulsing as he had been just moments ago. But his brown doe eyes were still moving, gazing lovingly up at her.

     Melody didn't know how she felt about him, in truth, as she'd never before had reason to think of him as anything more than a friend. Maybe if he'd been able to live, they could've tried to make something more of their relationship than just platonic love, but there was no point in dwelling on could-have-beens now. And it didn't matter that she wasn't in love with him- he was in love with her, and he had died for her. He deserved some happiness, even if it was bittersweet.

     So she bent down and gently pressed her lips to his, her own goodbye. He tasted like blood- his own he was coughing up- and the stale crackers they'd eaten a few hours ago. She opened her eyes and met his, and his mouth twitched into the faintest imitation of a smile. He could not speak.

     A few moments later, he was dead too, and in less than two minutes Melody had watched the light go out of as many people's eyes. She was alone now, with no friends and not even an enemy. Everything she'd endured over the past week finally came crashing down on her, a stone in her stomach all the more weighted by Zak's death.

     She hung her head and finally allowed herself to cry after a week of stress and death and hell. The only sound in the cave were her quiet sobs, and there was no one left to hear them.

     She buried her face in his bloodstained chest and cried until there were no more tears.

| Author's note: I'd like to clarify something here: for all you villain apologists, just because her life was potentially in danger if she didn't kill all those people, it doesn't make Grace a good person, or a tragic victim of circumstance. She's evil, and she enjoyed all the kills. She wanted to be part of the sicko family; she didn't do it purely to survive.

#horror story #original story #original content #original character #original work #the scarecrow #the scarecrow queenclaudiabrown

[chronic-boogara]

𝚒 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚖𝚎𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚜. 𝚠𝚎 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚖𝚎𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎 𝚘𝚗𝚎➜

part one of the woobification of slasher villains! and who better than to start with stu macher my favorite ghost face :) and i just KNOW there’s gonna be people seeing these and getting in my ass bc they “killed people” and all..and to that i’d like to say it was a movie babes. relax

stu is not really the jealous type but when he sees you walking out with the new guy everyones been talking about he can’t help but feel a little dejected.

(pretty much just fluff ? no real warnings)

stu watched nervously from his spot on the bench as y/n exited school ,the new boy right beside her smiling and laughing. she was over 15 minutes later than usual. they always met at the same time every day. and stu did not like breaking such habits

looking closer he realized that he in fact recognized him from his geometry course. he rarely attended class so he was not sure of his name but if his memory serves him correctly his name was todd.

he was the charming type. he played on the football team and used the fact he was still new to this school as a way to lure girls into his trap. the type steal your girl right from under your nose just to fuck her and dump her like trash. or at least that’s what sydney had told him. he wouldn’t be too shocked if she was right.

as the two approached hw found himself studying the boys face. he didn’t see what was so special about him. sure he was six foot tall and was pure muscle with handsome face to match. and his raven black hair framed his face perfectly so what ? todd wasn’t anything special

his knee was bouncing uncontrollably by now. he wished he could run over and take you into his arms. show that stupid jock who she belongs to.

oh how he wanted to see blood pouring out of his throat,watching the look in his victims eyes as he ripped his innards from the gaping hole in his abdomen. the agony shining in his eyes.

but he knew if he acted upon his thoughts he’d come across as some sort of crazy person , which he was but y/n didn’t need to know that yet.

her gaze fell upon him and she quicky waved goodbye , making her way in his direction.

“ill see you tomorrow tony” she smiled and waved. stu felt a pang in his heart.

“i should have known you’d be out before me since you cut all day” she laughed ,sitting down next to him , laying her head on his shoulder. “i really do wish you would start coming to class…i miss seeing you in the halls”.

“mmhm” he nodded trying to keep his words in his mouth. it was physically hurting him at this point. he wanted- no he needed to express all these pent up feelings for her.

“don’t “mhm”me. you have to graduate so we can leave this town and explore the world together like we planned. we’ll be free like birds or something dumb like that”.

he just nodded , avoiding eye contact. the voices were screaming at him.

“okay ill ask. what’s wro-“.

“y/n say you’re mine…please i just-i just need to hear it”

her smiled faded for a moment as if she was unsure of what to say. “that was sudden…but yes i am yours stu. i always have been , you know that. whats yo with you today ? what’s got you so on edge”?

he didn’t realize he was holding his breath till he let out a deep sigh of relief. “i’m sorry y/n. i worry about losing you sometimes”. he basically just lied through his teeth. he LOVED her. he needed her to live,she was basically his oxygen at this point. stu wasn’t ready to admit it but his love turning into an obsession.

“stu you’re such a dummy sometimes. you know i would never choose tony over you. i like you and you only. i promise”. she said with a smile gently placing a kiss on his forehead.

“you have no idea y/n…i needed to hear that”. He wrapped his arm around you. “Wanna go over to Billy’s and watch a movie”?

she nodded , happy that her boyfriend was acting normal again. she wasn’t ready to say it out loud but the feelings she harbored towards him were strong. any time before stu didn’t matter.

“yeah! that sounds like fun”.

i love this man sm my GOD i’m gonna start writing for him more.

#fluffy ficlet #short and sweet #stu matcher x you #stu macher #stu macher x reader #slasher x reader #slasher x you #scream #scream 1996 #ghost face #matthew lillard #esha writes