#but today i need my time to deal with the pain and scream and cry because i need that too

[thyholymistress]

just discovered that someone who has really helped me and my friends deal with a lot of stuff through their job has just changed where they work at and the fact that now we won’t be able to look forward to seeing him each week and open up with him and learn stuff thanks to him is rlly killing me. like. this person is one of the few cishet men other than my close blood relatives that i feel safe around. this man is one of the most genuine and kind and humble people i have ever met and has helped so many people and the fact that we won’t be able to see him anymore and we won’t be able to have fun together as a big loving group is killing me. i’m trying to look at all the memories and ideas that me and my friends have because of me but right now i’m rlly just a snotty teary blob of flesh and bones and blood because i can only see the negatives. i know this is kinda stupid writing it on a tumblr blog to a bunch of people i have never met except for like the three people that i’ve been calling my best friends ever since i was a baby, who also knew this man. but i feel like i’d rather throw it all out into oblivion than ignore it and bottle it up and be poisoned by it for years. it seems like the healthier option out of the two, even if neither is like that good. i’m sorry to all the people who follow me and my mutuals and stuff bc i know that this is 100% not what they followed me for yet i felt like it was better for me to write this on here than on my shitpost sideblog, this is somehow more personal to me i guess, since a lot of the stuff here is related to very personal experiences even if they’re just photos. again i’m sorry sorry sorry to be such a negative person rn i’m usually positive and see the best in people and all that but i guess that sometimes i also need to scream stuff into my cushion to feel better and that cushion is this post. anyways,

i hope everyone is having a good day today. you deserve it. i know that. and tomorrow will be my good day too. tomorrow will be good for all of us.

#im sososo sorry for this #please don’t hate me #i guess ill listen to some silly music rn and then i’ll watch a silly movie and eat biscuits like my friends and i used to do #when we’d see him each day #it’s just that i’ve been kinda losing stuff i love in this last couple of months #like one of my favourite bands disbanded some weeks ago #and an artist that i loved a lot died and i can’t dream of having one of his paintings up in my room anymore #and i’ve had to go back to italy after my holidays but i rlly rlly love the place where i was staying and i feel like i’ve kinda lost that #anyway pls don’t mind me #tomorrow i’ll understand that the memories i have are incredible and all the happiness i experienced because of everything was worth it #and better than experiencing none at all #but today i need my time to deal with the pain and scream and cry because i need that too #i can’t feel how good happiness is if i don’t let the pain go away first

[star-anise]

now, hold still—

I'd kill for some resources on body image in the context of disability, chronic pain, and having grown up with a complicated and intense medical history. I think I've exhausted my local library's offerings. Yes, I'm seeing a counsellor who focuses on this, and he's probably got recs, but I'm pacing my cage and lashing my tail in between sessions.

"Body image" has a particular connotation most of the time, because it comes out of the field that deals with eating disorders. Which is great and I'm glad for the people it works for, but its basic principles and assumptions are for completely different problems than the one I have.

I can't track down who said it first, but in my reading I keep coming across this narrative of, "I saw my body as something to be disciplined and controlled, an object only seen by external eyes. Now I've learned to take joy in what my body can do and experience, and to see it as a site of pleasure."

...Sounds fake, but okay.

My body is a site of pain. It cannot do or bear the experience of many things. I have to exercise a huge amount of discipline and control just to get out of bed every day. I can't imagine my body being a visible object that other people might find pleasing; it's incredibly hard to look up from my continual tooth-and-nail fight getting my body to let me live to imagine what someone who doesn't live with all this shit might see.

When I was a child, I learned to hold myself very still. For a hairdresser, or photographer, or a dentist, or someone who wanted to measure my height, or an injection, or a doctor who wanted a demonstration of how one of my joints looked, or an X-ray, or an IV inserted, or a CAT scan, or to have a cast taken off, or a PET scan, or to have a wound treated, or an MRI, or to have a pin pulled out.

And you know, I got proud of that. I felt like a brave warrior in a fantasy novel. I learned to take deep breaths, and take myself in my mind away from the anxiety and unpleasantness, until I could shut down my reaction to it. So that I didn't flinch or scream or cry. Because there was something wrong with my body, and doctors knew how to fix it.

When I was getting assessed for fibromyalgia, this new doctor told me he was going palpate areas in my back, arms, and knees. I get a lot of massage; I knew what was coming. I slowed my breathing, concentrating on the long outbreath. I took myself away from my reactions and thought continually, obsessively, about letting my body droop, weightless, like the moment when your aching limbs meet a solid surface and fresh cool sheets.

"Hm, I dunno," he said. "A lot of this checks out, but your trigger point exam was totally negative. Most people, when I touch those points, they have a big reaction. Some people even scream and jump off the table."

"Well, no," I think I said. "If I'd done that, it would have hurt way more, for like, hours." And I was polite about it, because you have to be polite to doctors; doctors know how to make you feel better. But what I felt at the time, and still feel today, is a kind of outrage I labelled was unreasonable the moment it was born: You wanted to hurt me, and it's my fault for not letting you?

How do you learn how to ask for things, when you've taught yourself to lie still and cry quietly because the nurse who said they'd be right back is helping someone who suddenly needs the help more? How do you express yourself, when you've spent your whole life gritting your teeth?

The problems I have about my body are not about being attractive or thin. They are, however, about being small. Learning to cry less, scream less, and ask for less. About feeling like my body is a burden to anyone who comes to know it, and like that's a burden I can't ask other people to take on unless I'm staggering under the weight of it.

Right now, what I've got is this:

Remember, you weren’t the one who made you ashamed, but you are the one who can make you proud. Just practice, practice until you get proud, and once you are proud, keep practicing so you won’t forget. You get proud by practicing.

#staranise original #chronic pain lyfe #gore tw

[doumadono]

Emergency request: I woke up with an anxiety attack, feeling terrible, I'm going through a very hard time in my life, as you may know. how Bakugo, Shoto, and Midoriya would comfort their significant other in this situation? What would they do if their significant other feels nauseous and becomes emotional?

A/N: I'm really sorry to hear that you're going through such a tough time. Remember that you're not alone in this journey – I'm here to support you every step of the way. It's completely okay to have difficult moments, and you're doing the best you can. If you ever want to talk or need a listening ear, know that I'm here to listen without judgment. You're stronger than you realize, and I believe brighter days are ahead. Sending you lots of love and positivity to help you through this challenging period 💕

MASTERLIST

Bakugo

Bakugo may seem rough around the edges, but he's surprisingly attentive when it comes to his significant other's well-being. He'd notice the signs of your anxiety even before you mention it, and, although he's not the best with words, his actions speak volumes.

He'd offer a tight hug, allowing you to bury your face in his chest. "Hey, you're not alone in this, idiot. I've got your back."

Bakugo's determination to make you feel better might lead him to research anxiety management techniques or show you some of his own methods for coping with stress.

He'd encourage you to let out your emotions, saying, "If you need to yell, scream, or just vent, do it, little moron. It'll help you get rid of those fucking emotions you're holding back."

If tears come, he'd awkwardly hand you tissues and mutter, "Quit crying, dumbass." But his eyes would soften, and he'd stay close by, giving you space to let it out.

During moments of nausea, he'd prepare simple and nourishing meals, then present them with an exaggerated "Eat up, it's good for you."

One evening, after a particularly long and challenging day of training, you start to show signs of exhaustion. Your shoulders slump, and your voice wavers as you express your frustration. "I just… I can't believe how tough today was," you admit, your voice tinged with weariness.

Bakugo's initial response is predictable – a scowl and an impatient sigh. "Stop whining," he grumbles, crossing his arms.

But as you continue to talk, Bakugo's annoyance begins to wane. He watches you closely, the crease in his brow slowly smoothing out. He can see the toll the day has taken on you, and his heart unexpectedly softens. "Look," he says, his voice slightly less harsh, "I get it. Training's been a pain in the ass lately. But you're not alone in this." He shifts his weight uncomfortably, his usual bravado faltering just a bit. "I'm… dealing with the same crap, you know? There are days when things get rough for me – yeah, even I have those moments. And, fuck it, I've dealt with some anxiety crap too. I know it might sound dumb coming from me, but I get it. Life throws crap at us, and it doesn't matter how tough we think we are. But you, you've got this. I've seen you handle your own shit, and you're stronger than you give yourself credit for."

You look up at him, surprised by the admission. Bakugo's gaze meets yours, and he looks away for a moment, his cheeks tinged with a hint of embarrassment. "So, just, well, don't give up, you little idiot. We'll get through this together, yeah?"

Later that night, as you two lie in bed, you turn to him. "You know," you say softly, "it's okay to get emotional sometimes. Even for you."

Bakugo huffs, a faint blush creeping up his neck. "Yeah, yeah, whatever, little moron. Just don't go telling everyone."

A small smile plays at the corners of your lips. "I won't. It'll be our little secret."

Shoto

Shoto's calm and composed nature would provide a soothing presence during your anxiety attack. He'd gently take your hand and lead you to a quiet and comfortable space.

"Focus on your breath. In and out. I'm here with you," he'd reassure, his voice steady and reassuring.

Shoto might share personal experiences of dealing with difficult times, letting you know that you're not alone in facing challenges.

He'd hold your hair back as you feel nauseous and need to vomit, rubbing your back soothingly. "Take your time, and don't hesitate to let me know if there's anything you need, Y/N."

Shoto's patience and empathy would shine as he listens to your emotions, providing a safe space for you to express yourself.

If you become emotional, Shoto would gently wipe away your tears with his thumb, his touch warm and comforting. "It's alright to let it out," he'd say softly.

One evening, after a particularly demanding day, you show signs of being overwhelmed. You let out a deep sigh and run a hand through your hair, your tension evident. "It's been a really tough day," you admit, your voice tinged with fatigue.

Shoto's initial response is to sit beside you, his presence calming. He places a reassuring hand on your shoulder and gives a small nod. "I'm here," he says softly. "Take your time."

As you begin to talk about challenges, Shoto listens attentively, his dual-colored gaze unwavering. He offers a sense of understanding through his presence, allowing you to share your feelings without judgment. "I can see how much you've been through," he says, his voice steady. "But remember, you're strong, and you're capable of overcoming this."

Later that night, as you wind down, you look at him and says, "You know, it's okay to express your emotions too. Even if you're the calm one, darling."

Shoto's lips quirk into a small smile. "I appreciate that," he replies, his voice soft. "But sometimes, it's easier to understand others' emotions than my own."

Midoriya

Midoriya's compassionate nature would make him very attuned to your feelings. He'd approach you gently, offering a warm smile.

"It's okay to feel this way, but remember, it won't last forever. We'll work through it together," he'd say, his voice full of sincerity.

He might share motivational stories or quotes to uplift your spirits and remind you of your inner strength.

When nausea strikes, he'd prepare a cup of herbal tea and guide you in taking slow sips. "This should help settle your stomach."

Midoriya would hold your hand, offering comfort and understanding as you express your emotions. "You're not alone in this, and I'm here for you every step of the way."

Izuku would offer a warm hug when emotions rise, his embrace gentle yet full of support. "You're stronger than you realize," he'd whisper.

One evening, after a particularly challenging day at school, you start to show signs of being overwhelmed. You let out a frustrated sigh and slump onto the couch, your shoulders tense with stress. "Today was just… really tough," you admit.

Midoriya's initial reaction is to sit down beside you, his expression full of concern. "I'm sorry to hear that," he replies, his voice gentle. "Do you want to talk about it, Y/N?"

As you open up about your struggles and anxiety attack you experienced, Midoriya listens intently, offering a comforting presence. He nods along, his eyes reflecting understanding and empathy. "I can imagine how challenging that must have been for you," he says, his words sincere. "I know it's not easy, but you're strong," he adds, a small smile tugging at his lips. "And you're not alone in this, baby."

Later that evening, as you prepare to turn in for the night, you wrap your arms around him from behind, saying, "You know, it's okay to talk about your emotions too. Even heroes like you have tough days, right? So next time you'll have a hard time, don't hesitate to open up to me, okay?"

Midoriya's gaze softens, his eyes filled with gratitude. "Thank you for understanding," he replies, his voice warm. "Indeed, even heroes need a shoulder to lean on sometimes."

#bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki #katsuki x reader #bakugou fluff #bakugou katsuki x reader fluff #bnha x reader #mha hcs #shoto fluff #shoto todoroki x reader #shoto todoroki x you #mha x reader #izuku midoriya headcanons #izuku hcs #izuku x reader #izuku fluff #izuku midoriya #divider by cafekitsune #izuku midoria x reader #mha fluff #emergency request #todoroki shoto x reader #shoto todoroki #shoto fic

[felice-jaganshi]

My Fallen Apple

Lucifer X Reader

Chapter 10

It was Extermination day… Lucifer was pacing back and forth, like a tiger in a too small cage.

“Luci…” You wanted to help him, but neither of you could do anything. The nature of the Deal he'd been forced to make, made it so he was magically trapped in his home every extermination day. It was his own magic binding him too, the only way he could be freed today is if someone killed a hellborn demon. And he was terrified that it could be Charlie. 

“Not now love… I'm… unsettled.” 

 

“What can I do to help? Surely I can do something?” You tried to reach out to him, and he stopped pacing, taking your hand and kissing the back of it.

“I'm worrying you, aren't I? I'm sorry.”

“Just a little.” You say honestly, and try to pull him in for a hug. He comes along easily, falling into the comfort of your embrace with an aggravated sigh. 

 

Suddenly, he flinched in your hold, “Dazzle. I just felt Dazzle die! Oh fuck, Charlie's in trouble!” He tried to pull away but you held firm.

 

“Let me go with you! I want to help however I can!” You had this conversation yesterday, and it took all of your will to convince him he'd take you with him if he was able to get out on extermination day.

Now that it was actually happening however, he looked terrified.

“I- I can't! I could lose you!”

“I can distract Adam! If Charlie's in a bad position, one distraction could save her life, or someone else's! I have to try. Please! ”

He couldn't waste anymore time! He needed to get there now!  

 

“Fuck, fine!” He held you tight and opened a portal, finally able to get to the hotel. You saw Adam in front of Charlie, reaching out for her and you threw yourself from Lucifer's arms, wings ejecting to get in front of her. 

 

“Adam! STOP!!” You stand in front of him and he's frozen in shock at the sight of you.

 

“I- Becky?!”

 

“That's not my fucking name!!” He could never get it right! Just as you're about to throw a punch at him, he gets a surprise left hook from Lucifer! He went crashing into the hotel skylight.

 

You turn to Charlie as Lucifer helps her onto her feet. 

“Sorry I wasn't here sooner, sweetie.” 

 

Adam came back out of the skylight he'd crashed through, eyes locked on you.

“The fuck are you doing here?” He sounded hurt.

 

“You pushed me into hell, remember?” You lean into Lucifer's side, opposite of Charlie. Adam looks between the two of you. “I should thank you, actually. I met the kindest, most loving man in all of creation thanks to that fall.”

 

Charlie looks shocked to realize you're an angel too, but before she can say anything Adam is charging at Lucifer with a scream of rage and pain!

 

“Again!! A third fucking time! How many of my bitches do you have to take before you're satisfied?!” 

Lucifer let him get one hit in, shoving him into the wall before shape-shifting and flying up. It didn't even hurt him a little.

 

You watch in worry as Adam tries to shoot him, but Charlie puts a hand on your shoulder.

“He'll be fine. Dad's the strongest angel ever!”

 

When Adam blasts the hotel with his holy light, shrapnel imbeds itself into your wings and body. Lucifer dives to catch Charlie, leaving you to fend for yourself! Just when you think you're done for, Adam catches you.

 

You try to push away from him but he holds you tight. “Why?! What the fuck did I do wrong?! First Lilith, then Eve, now you?! I just- why won't anyone love me! ?” He's crying, you realize.

 

“Let me go! Luci!!” You call for help, seeing him holding Charlie, he looks up at you, panicked. 

 

“Becca! Don't worry babe, I'm coming!” He set Charlie on the ground before flying up to get you back!

But Adam was always a sore loser… he held you tight by the neck, out in the air. Your wings flapped sporadically, blood pouring from them. You couldn't breathe! Is… is this how you'd die? You've already died once,  why is the universe so awful!?

 

Lucifer is forced to stop where he is, “Let her go Adam! She's not a toy, she's a person! You wanna know why none of them loved you?! Because you didn't respect them! You didn't treat them like people! She's my best friend Adam, do you even have one of those?! A friend?” 

 

Adam's hands shook, “Fuck you!” He then threw you at Lucifer before shooting a light beam at you both!

 

Lucifer caught you, but now he couldn't shape-shift, and there wasn't really time to dodge! He barely flanked away and one of his wings had a massive hole blown into it!

Adam charged, and Lucifer kicked him into the ground, not yet registering the pain in his wing. He dropped down himself, setting you down and approaching Adam's crater. “You come at me, and my family! But don't forget, you're in my house now, bitch!” And he began wailing on him! It… was actually kinda hot.

 

Charlie pulled back her father's rage, and the adrenaline that had kept you standing wore off. Causing you to fall to your knees.

 

Some tiny girl ended up killing Adam, but you were too tired to summon a reaction of any kind. In fact… Why was everything so… quiet? That was your last thought before darkness consumed your vision and sleep overtook you. Fuck, not again…

#hazbin hotel #lucifer morningstar #fallen apple #lucifer magne #lucifer x reader #hazbin hotel adam #charlie morningstar #fallen angel

[dragondevinity]

Warning for people, this contains stuff besides swearing that you may find uncomfortable to read about!

So I’ve just today remembered that periods exist, and since mine is decently irregular I was thinking about y/n’s first period since being in Teyvat… well this is the prompt lol.

Y/n waking up both Zhongli and the boyfriends as well as Traveler and Paimon with a shrill scream…

Everyone rushing into her room to see a lot of blood on her bed…

Everyone fucking panics while Zhongli just stands in the doorway like ‘wtf this shouldn’t have this reaction it’s normal for women’

Zhongli: y/n why’re you panicking… you’re on your period- I thought this was normal for human women-

Xiao, Venti and Paimon: what?!?!?? This doesn’t seem normal!

Aether now sitting on the floor: oh yeah I forgot, sorry it’s been a while since I’ve had to deal with a girl on their period…

Y/n starting to cry from the faint cramps: I forgot that this could happen okay!!! It’s been fucking 500+ years! I haven’t had my period since isekaing into this damn world!!!

Everyone besides y/n: you know what we’re not going to question that right now…

Zhongli: I’ll get Ajax and go buy you some stuff- you four stay and comfort her-

Aether: me and Paimon have to head back to Inuzuma and finish up with the anti-raider shogun training, so those two will be with y/n…

Paimon: oh yeah! Paimon forgot about that!

Xiao: what do we do-

Y/n: I’m going to go clean myself and hopefully find something to dull the pain and something akin to a pad to aid me until Ajax and Zhongli are back-

Zhongli: good idea, I’ll try to be quick.

Venti: I still don’t know what’s happening but I feel like I should.

Xiao: I don’t know what’s happening either!!

Y/n: don’t worry… I’m fine but could you both get me pain medication from bubu pharmacy?

Xiao and Venti: sure!

And so everyone left y/n in the house to get situated…

‘I’m so embarrassed!! I wonder if I could just snap my fingers and my bed/sheets will be clean…’ y/n thought, and so she tried and it didn’t work properly, she should of taken the sheets off first is all I’m saying…

Yeah she just ended up bathing and by the time she was done Zhongli, Ajax and the boyfriends were back with the stuff you needed thankfully…

Sorry if this was shitty, I’m overly tired, more so than I should be- anyways have a lovely day Huns!

#sagau #genshin impact #genshin impact sagau #genshin sagau

[try-set-me-on-fire]

Tagged by @devirnis for WIP Wednesday! Here’s a whole scene from proposal fic because why not… (vomit content warning)

Bobby shows up on the doorstep before Buck's first PT appointment after being discharged and Buck is hit by sudden intense gratitude for the stupidest possible reason. Ah, he thinks, thank god Eddie isn't going to see what I'm like during one of these. And then What the fuck, Buckley? Eddie did see him after that first session, and it's not like his patheticisms start and end within a 45 minute time frame and the clean walls and persistent disinfectant smell of Dr. Shelley's office. He's spent the last two days in a shivering little lump on the man's bed, sleeping 16 hours out of 24. He's not really sparing him anything he hasn't already seen. What, then? Spread the different facets of exactly how fucked up he is around? Like if no one has to deal with too much they won't get tired of it? Here, Eddie, you can have helping me go to the bathroom because I can't stand up on my own. Maddie, you get me crying whenever I see you or even hear you on the phone because you're my big sister so I get to dump all my feelings on you, that's fair right? Bobby, you can hear me screaming in pain, is that ok with you? You were there last time, I'm sure you'll do fine. It's too much for any of them. It's too much for Buck.

"You ready, kid?" Bobby says, with the softest little smile. God. Buck is going to fall apart into tiny, gross little pieces. Eddie can mop the floor and be done with him.

“Ready,” is what he says, knowing it sounds like a lie.

They have him walking between the parallel bars today. He remembers them, from his leg. They don’t start there, most of the hour is more stretching (ow) and fine motor skills practice (frustrating). But they told him at the beginning they want to get him walking again as soon as they can to avoid any further muscle loss or atrophy, and they want to work with him to see if they can figure out how much of his dizziness is from brain injury and how much is from vestibular damage.

Well, he’s up on the bars now and he couldn’t fucking tell you. The whole world is just spinning around him at a sickening speed as the physical therapist and Bobby both mutter encouragement, tell him to keep taking one more step, he can do it. Buck tries, he really tries, he wants to take these five steps on his own and for the doctor to tell him he’s progressing fantastically and to be tired but happy on the drive home with Bobby, both of them smiling and cracking jokes. Instead he collapses three steps in and vomits on the soft plastic-y blue floor covering. His ear is ringing and he only has a split second to feel humiliated before there are arms around him.

“Sweetheart,” Bobby is saying over the background hum, “Sweetheart, I’ve got you.” There are hands in Buck’s hair and he chokes out a sob. He doesn’t really stop crying until they’re almost back at the Diaz house, how he got from the office to the car a mysterious blur. Bobby is holding his hand on the center console. When Buck squeezes a little tighter he hears him sigh in relief and it almost starts the tears up again. Bobby is out of the car as soon as he's parked, hurrying around to the passenger side to help Buck to the house. He’d protested, days ago, about the need to rent a wheelchair until he could carry a little more of his own weight, but now he guesses getting rolled to the door is more dignified than Bobby having to put him in a fireman's carry.

He’d do it. Buck knows he would, Bobby would pick him up and hold him in his arms and carry him as far as he needed to go. Bobby settles him on the couch, handling him as gently as he would a child at a disaster site, running to bring him mouthwash to get rid of the bitter taste of stomach acid, finding saltines in the kitchen, pouring ginger ale on ice and procuring as if by magic a bendy straw in old fashioned, environmentally unfriendly, single use plastic. He sits on the coffee table in front of him, at attention, ready to appease any want.

"Thanks, dad. Bobby! Thanks- thanks, Cap," Buck slams his eyes shut and drops his head onto the couch behind him. The indignities never fucking end, apparently. He's stopped from withering away entirely by the warm weight of a hand over his own where it lays on the armrest. Buck opens his eyes. Bobby is staring down at their hands, jaw working, breathing through his nose.

"It wasn't even-" Bobby frowns as his voice fails, and clears his throat to try again. "I kept wishing I could be mad at you. Being reckless again, running into danger, getting yourself hurt." He exhales heavily, breath stuttering into a sad little laugh. "But I watched you climb that ladder. I kept playing it over and over in my head. You had three points of contact the whole time. Could have filmed it for a goddamn safety manual. It could have been-" his voice catches again, and Buck turns his hand to grab onto Bobby's. "It could have been any of us. It could have been any of us up there. All the stupid stunts you pull that you walk away from, and it's-" Bobby's free hand waves wildly into the room. "It's a random fucking act of god that nearly-"

"Bobby-"

"That nearly takes you from me," he finishes, squeezing Buck's hand. He's crying, and Buck thinks he might be again, too.

"I'm so sorry-"

"Oh, kid," Bobby says, leaning forward, gathering Buck up in his arms. “Nothing to apologize for. You’re right here. You’re still breathing. That’s all I need.”

Buck weeps again, into Bobby’s shoulder, his captain or father or good friend’s hand rubbing up and down his spine. He is still breathing. He’s still breathing. Bobby’s soft flannel shirt smells like grill smoke and Eddie’s couch is familiar beneath him, and Buck hurts and feels sick and dizzy, and he exists. “Bobby-“

“It’s alright. It’s alright.”

Bobby’s face is wet when Buck pulls away after however long it takes for each breath to stop aching so bad as it rattles in and out of him. Buck wants to say all sorts of things, most of which amount to I love you, but what comes out is a nod towards the TV and “You wanna stay for the game?”

Buck doesn’t even know what sports, if any, are on today, but Bobby seems to hear some of the other words he meant to say because he smiles so kindly at him and says “Yeah, Buck. Anything.”

Tagging @iinryer @bigfootsmom @shortsighted-owl if you’ve got anything to share!

#wip #wip wednesday #proposal fic #thats his dad boogie woogie woogie #was listening to the interstellar soundtrack while finishing this scene up #i remember fuck all about that movie but the soundtrack hits #listen to Stay and cry about how that song feels like a building plea and a desperate desire to answer that plea #stay!! stay with me!! #arms wide open for you

[atiyasnake]

Yall, I gotta ask, exactly just how normal is it for you for stories to be on your mind 24/7?

Like for me, it what I think about always. I'm thinking about this fic, that fic, and a possible new fic. I'm thinking about a prompt or rough outline I created a doc for almost 2 years ago or 2 weeks ago.

I'm thinking about what the next chapter is about or how I want the plot to progress. Or that one moment I've been gnawing on like a dog with a bone.

I drive to work and while making sure it's safe to switch lanes, I think about how X character will deal with the next situation I'll put them in.

In-between work phone calls and tasks, I'm itching to open my doc and write a few lines. Reread my outline, maybe rewrite a draft. Even though I only have access to them on my phone and I can't type on that, cause it honest to God has caused me pain in my hands and -like I said- I'm at work.

Even right now, I'm at work. It's an hour until we close and I'm the only one working the front desk hoping no one calls cause I've having a good time daydreaming about how I want one of my stories to go.

In my jumbled up mess inside my head, I'm twisting and turning around all the components of a story. What POV will it be, how the dialogue will go, and what is the next thing I need to write? I'm switching bullet points and little snippets of notes I've written on a sticky note or typed on my phone.

I'm trying to piece it all together into something I can and want to write. It's all I think about.

It's not just fanfiction either. I have my own original stuff. Stories I'd love to write, would love to read.

I think about rewriting short stories I've written in writing club in my notebook or typed up on my computer. I imagine scenarios to put characters I haven't even created in.

I don't know their names or the color of their eyes, but I know they'll fight with a smile and blood staining their teeth. I'll know that their friend will run their fingers through their hair. I'll know that they don't like it when people yell and are bad at cooking.

When I go to sleep, I would basically tell myself a story. It used to just be scenarios with some unknown character, but now it is filled with my brainstorming, wondering how things could go in my stories.

Especially my fics, since those are stories I know people actually read. It's crazy to think about.

There's a person, more than one, who read something I wrote. Who decided they liked it and would like to continue reading. It's absolutely mind boggling to even think of one, nevermind a dozen, a hundred, a thousand people have read something I wrote.

I think about them.

I wonder what they think of the words I strung together. What image comes into their head when they read them? I wonder what my words have made them feel.

I honestly can't describe just how much stories mean to me. I think about them all the time. From the moment I wake up till the moment I go to bed.

They're all I ever think about.

I don't know how someone can talk to me about stories without feeling as if their chest was about to burst. As if they're scrambling to find the proper words and could only yell and shake their hands with how it makes them feel.

How can you not want to scream, laugh, and cry when you think about stories and all that they are, all that they could be?

How can I just go on about my day knowing I have access to thousands of stories, am sharing a few of my own, but also will never know thousands of other ones that have yet to be created?

I honestly think I live for stories. Whether it was to read them, write them, or just think about them. I think they might be one of the reasons I'm still alive today.

Which funnily enough, is a story of its own.

#i am having a *moment* on clocked time #existential crisis #???? #and getting paid #wonderful combo #but like seriously how do you not think about this every waking moment of every day #someone please tell me #thats not even including art and snippets of images of stories that flash in my head #tho im better with words than drawing #BUT GOD DO SOME OF THESE SNIPPETS HIT #Atiya writes

[lumenflowered]

Pelipper mail! A nightmare that isn't yours. For its original dreamer, it was always painfully reoccurring, especially in her youth.

Your duty, your burden, feels too big for your own body. You are nine years old again, with the weight of the world lying right on top of your shoulders, again, without even the decency to wait till you grow a little older, a little stronger, so that maybe everything won't seem so bad through a grown-up's eyes.

"Hello, Princess Zelda!"

You snap out of your daze and look up at the voice's owner— a boy of nobility, accompanied by five or six of his peers. The duke's boy. You know his name is Imos, and he is eleven years old.

"Lovely weather today, isn't it?" Imos says loftily. "But it might rain."

Your face does not shift, and you level a blank gaze with him. "And?"

"Perhaps you ought to return to your study and… what was it? Awaken that sacred power that's going to save us all from certain doom?" The other boys and girls hide shrill giggles behind their hands. You don't mean to curl your fist (it is very unbecoming, after all), but then your nails dig into your palms anyway.

"Look at her," the baron's son shouts with glee. "She couldn't tell a cucco apart from a heron if she tried."

That embarrassing memory floods your mind and your face goes a bit pink.

The count's daughter waves him down. "Oh, spare her! She fails at everything, even the bare minimum!"

"Did you hear she was caught sneaking into the library by her father?"

"Did you hear she got sick from her last fountain trip 'cause the Goddess thinks she's so stupid?"

"Did you hear that his Majesty confiscated all her books because she couldn't stop reading them?"

"Eugh, what kind of princess likes to read so much?"

"Only lunatics with thick-wired spectacles do that!"

"Did you hear that in the past three years, she's done nothing at all?"

"Yeah, except become a booky freak!"

On and on the children go and erupt into high-pitched laughter, and rage and shame constricts around your throat— the kind of tightness that makes you want to explode into a million little pieces and somehow still scream at the same time. The kind that makes you want to disappear and not come back.

Tears prick at your burning eyes and you are just about to think, you are not going to cry in front of—

"Hey, your Highness," Imos says in a mocking tone, and he walks up to you, but his smile falls into a serious frown. "It's been however long and you don't exactly have forever to save all our asses. So you need to toughen up. Otherwise…" He shrugs, stepping back to rejoin his friends. "We'll see you on the other side of hell."

You feel your heart twist as they whoop and jeer. "Aww, look! Is the little princess gonna cryyyy?" the captain's son taunts. "Does the little princess want her muuum?"

The other children actually stop and gasp, and he clamps his mouth shut with a slightly guilty look. Before they all burst out laughing, again. Endless nightmare. Blurry, leering faces you cannot discern. Endless, endless laughter.

"Are you going to cry for your mum, Zelda?"

"Put a little doggy treat that says 'Queen of Hyrule' on a stick so Zelda will jump after it like a pet!"

"Mother won't save you now, princess!"

"And your daddy thinks you're a failure!"

You can't stop the tears. You can't stop. And then you're curled on the ground gasping for air like a dying fish and crying for your father who would never come for a failure like you and you just want someone to hear you and to just hold you and it won't stop it won't stop it won't

"I just want my mother," you wail, and their laughter sounds like screaming. "I just…"

and pain will never fucking stop, least of all for you

That i s...

...Children do always know how to be the cruelest. Those of nobility especially; they had many examples to learn from, after all. I suppose that does not vary as much as I thought (or perhaps hoped) it did between worlds.

Zelda, if you happen to be reading this, I am sorry you had to deal with anything approaching... this.

(Urbosa or Link, if you happen to be reading this, would you mind giving Zelda a hug for me?)

#pelipper mail #tw nightmare #rotomblr #pokeblogging #pokeblog rp #pokemon irl

[tinytinybumblebee]

thank you again for being willing to receive my fics 🥺👉👈🥺🥺😭 i have another part to the one I sent in before… i hope you enjoy, sorry for the long long message :,D it’s kind of an essay sorry ;;

———

“Hey, hey, sweet thing, it’s okay, it’s okay, I’m sorry I let go of you, I thought you didn’t want to be touched, shh, shh,” Tav spoke quickly, putting his hands around Astarion’s back. 

Astarion grasps around, finding the crook of Tav’s neck and burying his face in. A long, pained whine left his throat.

“…I think bathtime is over,” Tav whispers.

The little vampire stares up with watery eyes. “…Sow‘y…”

“No, no, shh,” Tav lifts him out of the bath, the cold air biting at his skin and only making him want to snuggle in closer. “You did so well. My brave boy.”

Astarion gives him a hopeful look. Brave? He’s brave? Tav seems to sense his silent question and lightly taps his nose.

“Yes, you’re so brave!” he coos. “You’ve been my brave little boy all day long.”

That wouldn’t even describe half of it, really, but Astarion was far too little to talk about everything that had happened. With the little smile sneaking its way onto his gaunt face, he seemed perfectly happy to be called a brave boy for facing the bathtub. 

“B’ave,” he smiles to himself, happy enough with the praise to not notice Tav wrapping him in a towel, nice and snug.

He only notices when Tav properly cradles him again and, without access to his hands, can’t grab fistfuls of his caregiver’s shirt to cuddle in closer. This realization is met with a pout and a bit of squirming, busy little mind having all but forgotten his pride over being called brave now that this minor inconvenience was in his way. 

And ever the attentive carer, Tav picks up on it right away.

“Oh, now, what are we pouty about, little love? You were so happy a second ago.”

“…Cuddle,” Astarion sulks—even the immense amount of emotional turmoil he’s endured today can’t keep down his impatience, his dramatics, and his dramatic impatience.

“Oh,” Tav tries to stifle a laugh—he knows Astarion has been through enough today, and to his regressed self, something like this is indeed a very big deal. “Oh, dada’s right here, baby, I won’t go anywhere. I just need to get you dried off and dressed and then you can have all the cuddles you want. Brave little boys like you deserve lots of dada cuddles.”

“Cuddle now,” Astarion whines.

Tav said he wouldn’t go away, but what if he did? What if he woke up back in Cazador’s palace to find out this had all been a dream? That there was no freedom, no safety, no dada? No, he needed cuddles now, before that could happen. He tries to squirm out of his little towel cocoon, to touch Tav, to make sure this is all still real.

“Ah-ah, no, Astarion,” Tav holds him steady. “Be patient, please. You don’t want to cuddle before I get you in your pretty clothes. You’ll get so cold, and that’s no fun, is it?”

Astarion whines again, a bit louder this time. No! He doesn’t want to wait! It doesn’t help anything! He waited 200 years for the day he could take his freedom back and he was still just as scared and sad as before now that it was finally here! He writhes more, grabbing about blindly as he tries to shake free of the towel.

“Oh, Astarion…”

Astarion is being laid on his back. Somewhere. He knows dada’s hands are further away than ever, and he hates that. His throat is raw from all the crying and screaming today, but he shrieks regardless, kicking and pounding his heels on the ground as the towel falls away. There isn’t much touch beyond a hand brushing his, but he isn’t having it.

For Tav’s part, he remains kneeled beside him. It’s a strange sight, a full-blown kicking and screaming tantrum from a grown man, but he doesn’t judge, doesn’t raise his voice, doesn’t try and hold Astarion’s arms down. It hurts to leave his baby to kick, scream and cry like this, but it’s all Tav can do. It’s been a huge day. Poor Astarion has so many emotions to get out. The best course of action, Tav thinks, is to step back and wait for the elfling to get all his big feelings out.

Or most of them, anyway.

When Astarion’s cries turn to shallow hiccups, Tav fully closes his hand around his. “There we are. Shhh. I know, little star. You have so many big feelings for such a little one. Is this better, now that you’ve gotten them all out? Or some of them, at least. Don’t you feel less icky now?”

Astarion sniffles and nods. But judging by the pout remaining on his face, he doesn’t like that Tav was right about him just needing a good, hard cry; some of that distaste including his regular adult mind that couldn’t help sneaking its way back into his otherwise regressed headspace just to writhe in embarrassment for his own behavior. 

“Okay, fussy boy,” Tav chuckles good-naturedly, brushing some curls out of Astarion’s eyes. “Now that we have all that yucky energy out, let’s sit nice and still for dada, alright? The sooner you’re dressed, the sooner you’ll be warm…”

Ever since he kicked off the towel, especially now that he was cooling down from the stress of his fit, Astarion was finding it a bit cold…

“…and the sooner you’ll get to cuddle with dada, all you want.”

Astarion’s eyes widen as he looks up to Tav. Now that sounds like a good deal. Conniption all but forgotten, he tries his hardest to lay still for him. Admittedly, it does get a bit hard to not squirm when Tav’s hand draws closer to certain places, but Tav proves his intentions again and again as he works, every spot of “bad touch” quickly brushed over. 

With Astarion fully cooperative now, Tav is able to diaper him without any fussing or insistence on being a big boy (clearly he’d given up the need for pride), then slip a long, baggy red shirt over his head. With its loose, soft fabric and golden trim, it looked like it would have made for rather tasteful clothes, but a few sizes too big for most people at camp, Tav knew it would instead make for perfect pajamas for his little star. Case and point, Astarion is already running his fingers over the fleecy fabric. Tav stops him before he can finish his little inspection, though—considering for a baby-brained Astarion, that meant he was going to start chewing on it. 

While he doesn’t whine at having the sleeve taken from his mouth, he does give Tav a sour look no different than one he’d use while big. 

“Ah-ah-ah, don’t give me that look,” Tav pokes his nose, a little gesture that makes Astarion’s scowl shatter like glass, unable to contain a tiny giggle. “That’s not something we put in our mouths, is it?”

Astarion pokes his tongue out. The fabric was just so soft and swishy! What was the harm in a little nibbling? Tav gives an exaggerated gasp of scandal. “Oh, you little rebel!” Astarion smirks in response, but Tav soon smirks back. “I guess that sleeve is more interesting than your paci, then?”

Astarion perks up. His paci? In his state of mind, he’d completely forgotten about the pack of regression supplies he had stashed away in his corner of camp or the inn. 

“Bab-ee?” he babbles, trying to say “paci”, but the tension had left him feeling even littler than before, and words slipped uselessly off his loosened tongue.

“Paci?” Tav tries, reaching into a small pouch and pulling out a red pacifier, the bulb covered in little bite marks from the many times Astarion wanted a teether, but even regressed, was too prideful to ask. 

“Ba-ey!” he coos happily, letting Tav pop the soother in his mouth.

Whatever tension still in him seems to slip away as nursing on the pacifier gives him that final push into the tiniest headspace possible. Tiny, free, loved, in a time far from when Cazador took him. A little newborn who had never known hardship. If you asked  Astarion normally, he would say he loathed regularly regressing so small. But, as with many things, being little made him more inclined to be honest about those feelings, and it was clear that while Astarion hated the helplessness Cazador inflicted on him, this was something else entirely.

As he loosely paws at Tav’s hand, coordination failing him, he knows someone is there to care for him. This kind of helpless has no struggle. Just happiness, and dada’s warm smile as he tries to guide Astarion to a sitting position.

“It’s like posing a sack of potatoes,” Tav huffs, and Astarion giggles in turn, letting himself ragdoll back to the floor. “Oh, you! You’re doing that on purpose, aren’t you?”

OwAaaahhHHHHHH OH MY GOODNESS 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺💖💖💖💖 C R Y I N G this continuation has my heart filling SO MUCH LOEV😭💖💖💖💖 Astarion getting all those big feelings out and Tav being so gentle and caring while his little star expresses and fits aaaAAAAA

Your writing is positively phenomenal and aaa????🥺💖💖💖💖💖

#agere #age regression #sfw #fandom agere #mailbox #bg3 #Astarion

[who1ssheesh]

Have I ever requested fluff Squalo prompts? But if you’ve already wrote that you can skip this

Fluff Squalo promts

Notes: im a fucking animal and forgot where I’ve got those promts 💀 I also tried to get AI to fix my disgusting grammar but looks like it doesn’t want to correct my swears so deal with with and cry with bloody tears. Idk if those are good tho, Xanxus ones were smoother to write

Warnings: swearing, OOC, not proofread I die like I die. A little sad drop in the end. Basically that’s it, just shmoll everyday stuff

• “Stop hugging me”

• “I can’t hear you”

•“If you don’t stop hugging me, I’ll make sure you won’t be able to use your hands again”

"Stop hugging me," Squalo growls, because you are being such a pain in the ass, and he needs to do a ton of the stupid paperwork instead of his boss, because apparently Xanxus is in a depressive episode again.

“Did you say something?”, you mumble in his neck, and Squalo shivers a bit, which makes you smile. "I can’t hear you”.

"If you don’t stop hugging me, I’ll make sure you won’t be able to use your hands again”.

“Aw-w-w. Will we have matching prostheses?”

Squalo, being an awkward dork he is, blushes even at this, but doesn’t say anything anymore.

(WHAT IF WE BOTH CUT OUR HANDS OFF UWU)

• “You. Me. Friday night.”

You are lucky to get the attention of such a man out of all the people in the bar. Tall and strong, sharp face features with wild eyes almost hunting you like a prey, and hair - oh, his hair…

You feel you heartbeat in your ears, when comes your way, and a smirk appears unwillingly on your face. Some people eye after him, and you just know they want to be in your place.

“You. Me. Friday night”, he slams his hand on the table, as is not even considering you refusing the offer.

“For fucks sake, Squalo, we are already dating”.

His loud wheezing laugh is everything but hot.

•”You smell nice.”

Context to this: in one game Squalo has a quote “Boss threw a pot of meat at me. I’ve washed my hair for three times but it still smells like a soy sauce” (or smth like that) and complains about his hair falling out

You sigh in defeat at a comedy of the situation: Squalo got just a day off in quite some time and you haven’t seen him in hours because…he has been in a bathroom. Four times, to be precise, and every time his hair dries, Squalo, being a clean freak he is about them, gets hysterical, leaving to watch them again.

“You okay, babyboy?”, you look at him with all the desperation in your eyes.

“The fuck you say-“

“Babyman?”

“VOI!”

You stroke his wet hair as you pass by, just to see a bunch of white strand stay between your fingers…way too much to be healthy.

“You sure you’re okay?”

Squalo doesn’t even respond, getting so uncharacteristically quiet and pale as a chalk you could believe it’s an impostor.

You smile awkwardly as you sense a faint smell of soy sauce. “You…smell nice”.

And you are unironically terrified as Squalo still looks at you completely silent with an empty void in his eyes.

“It’s fine, I’ll help you wash them this time”, you kiss his cheek, absolutely not implying Squalo is surprisingly pretty shit at taking care of his hair. “You just need a vacation to relax”.

“Yeah, I should consider this”, he presses his cheek to yours.

“You are vacuuming the floor today though”.

Squalo screams in your ear and feels guilty after since you didn’t hear anything for three days.

•”As if I could forget your birthday.”

•”I was looking forward to seeing you all week.”

You know Squalo is busy, to say the least. And you knew what you’re getting into with him, no way you are trying to blame him…But it still stings a little bit, knowing he is away on a mission, mixed with a never ending fear in the back of your mind that you can never see him again.

You jump at a metallic dinging in the door interrupting a suffocating silence, and run straight to it after hearing loud cursing you know all too well.

Squalo is disheveled. You don’t even think about presents and all that triviality when he is beaten up, battered, his hair dirty and all over his face and so out of breath.

He smashes the door loudly behind him, leans against it and tiredly sighs.

“Did you come here right after the mission?”, you can’t help but smile widely.

Squalo smirks and chuckles, “As if I could forget your birthday”.

You almost throw yourself in him, pretty sure he would fall if not for the door, and Squalo hugs you tightly in return, almost suffocatingly tight.

“I was looking forward to seeing you all week”, and he sounds so….quiet, as if shy.

Squalo is glad you keep hugging him and bury your nose in the crook of his neck, because he doesn’t want you to see his way too happy and lovesick smile.

• “Your eyes are so blue.”

Squalo is very loud and actually very chatty but still very…distant. Even for you, which makes you anxious often enough. He always needs alone time for a bit and you can hear metallic sounds - even resting and “clearing his head” for Squalo requires something useful to do, and obviously what can he enjoy more than his swords?

But sometimes he’s just…silent. You can swear he just looks at nothing and smokes way too much again, and you can’t remember how it resolves, because by the times Squalo “returns” you are asleep, and in the morning usual Superbia is back on track.

“You’re not sleeping”

“Yeah…” you know getting up for work in the morning will be a bit of a problem but here we are. And maybe it would be better to stick to your usual schedule than seeing him…like this. Because your heart aches.

Squalo has his hair all over, and it was supposed to be a ponytail somewhere in the morning. He smells like tobacco so much, and his eyes are red from being awake for so long. Hell, he even doesn’t have his prosthesis on, which is a huge thing for Squalo - he has some shtick, not letting anyone see him without a “missing part”.

“You okay?”

“Yes”.

“You sure?”

Squalo eyes dart right through you, but all he does in return is bite his lips, not answering.

“I just…though I could help”, you sound almost scared and meek, not knowing how far is too far. “Your eyes are so blue”.

You do not have the courage to look at him and the continuing silence is scary. What is surprising is that Squalo just….looks at you with eyes open wide and very stupidly confused.

“My eyes are grey”.

“That’s not what I mean, you dummy”.

“Then why should they be blue?”

In two minutes regular Superbia is back and you regret this, because he is screaming at the top of his lungs that “being blue” sounds fucking stupid and shouldn’t exist.

But next time Squalo inevitably becomes too depressed and uncertain in his life he is sure to hint you that…he thinks his eyes are blue. Just a bit.

#khr headcanons #khr imagines #khr x reader #varia x reader #katekyo hitman reborn #squalo x reader

[dalchiid]

𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 12

A story of obsession, fear, and lust. You're a maid whose Masters forbid you in meeting their guests for the night but your luck runs dry when you run into them and catch the attention of Lord Hoseok himself. He's smitten from the beginning and thus, your fate has been decided.

Pairing: Yandere Vampire Hoseok x Fem/AFAB Reader

Word Count: 6,248

Warnings: 18+, Yandere, Obsession, Possessive, Angst, Fear, Blood, Biting, Dub-Con, Eventual smut

Will add or remove warnings based on what's in each chapter.

I do not condone the behavior being exhibited in my work. This is solely for entertainment purposes and I hope if any of you are ever in a situation like this that you have the chance and ability to run away from it. Take care out there.

DO NOT copy, edit, or repost my work anywhere.

Chapter 12 Warnings: Yandere, Possessive, Obsession, MC going through withdrawal so pain & sickness

Prev | Next

You wake up to a choked scream. Wait. Was that you? You groan in pain as you open your mouth wide before gritting your teeth. Your back hurts like it's on fire. Your limbs are not far behind and you have to swallow before you release another pained sound.

You hear words. They are being spoken to you - about you you think but you feel like you're underwater. You can barely understand what's being said but the voices sound masculine.

Your eyes open and you have to shut them quickly because the world spins around you and fast. You could barely see what was happening around you but you could feel the gentle touch on your arm.

"Hyun-Woo," you cry out.

You hear something along the lines of "I'm here" but you're not entirely sure. Your back seizes painfully, the muscles drawing taut beneath you. Your arms pull back to try and lift yourself off of what you're lying on but it doesn't relieve your pain. You cry out once more and feel a single tear escape from your clenched shut eyes.

Your hearing starts to clear and you can hear what starts off as mumbles turn into voices that go back and forth with each other. One is Hyun-Woo and the other is unfamiliar to you. You have a hard time imagining who it could be and frankly could care less since you're in so much pain.

You grit your teeth as a spasm in your back forces your body to seize again. You try your best not to cry out but the pained sounds leave you in a choked manner. You whine when your body relaxes after seizing up with your breath coming out in pants.

"Where am I," you manage to croak out.

"You're in my room, Dove."

You feel a damp washcloth being placed against your forehead. It's cool against your burning skin but it feels too sensitive to the touch. You try to knock the washcloth off but hands prevent you from doing so.

"Leave it alone, Y/N. You need it."

You pause before gasping. "Sunmi?"

When did Sunmi get here?

"It's me. Shh it's okay." She pats your hair softly.

"H-How did you know?" You try to ask despite feeling nauseous.

She makes a sound akin to a hum before she pulls her hand away from you. "I went looking for you earlier today. Couldn't find you until I heard Master Hyun-Woo's shouts when you had fainted. It's just us now and the good doctor."

Doctor? Maybe that's the unknown voice that you heard.

Your body seizes up again and you cry out loud with tears springing forth from your eyes. The pain feels like fire running up and down your system and you can barely deal with it. Why did this have to happen to you? Why did you have to kiss Hoseok?

A whimper escapes you as your body relaxes again. It's temporary relief except you still feel the pins and needles running across your skin. You're sensitive to the touch and are too afraid to open your eyes lest you vomit. Your body shakes from the cold chills but you feel too hot in your clothes. Sweat permeates through them and it forces the clothing to stick to you uncomfortably. You pull on your shirt to try and take it off but struggle with it. You grunt in annoyance when it doesn't come off and cry out when your skin aches in the process.

"What is it, Dove? Tell me what's wrong?"

You don't care that there are men in here you just want the damn shirt off.

"Take this off. I want it off." You pull at the shirt again and cry when no one moves to help you.

"It's okay." Hyun-Woo goes to calm you down. "We'll take it off. It's okay."

Multiple hands come to help you and remove the shirt from your body. Cool air hits you hard but you welcome it. Your bra is an issue as well but you try to ignore it to maintain some decency for yourself.

As soon as the shirt is off your body seizes again. You grit your teeth through it and give a loud cry of relief when it doesn't last as long as the others.

"How long will she be like this?" Sunmi asks.

"Could be anywhere from two to three days. Maybe more. Depends on how long she's been using." The doctor says.

"Depends on how long she's been using," he says. He made it sound like you were a drug addict, but were you any different than them? Now wasn't the time to act high and mighty.

"Two days." Hyun-Woo says. "The vampire who did this to her said he'd give her two days."

You hear a hum. "He'd give her two days or that's how long this will last? He might be right but I wouldn't trust the word of her dealer. So we'll have to just play it by ear."

You groan. You don't want to play it by ear. You just want it all to end now.

A chill runs through your body and despite sweating you try to burrow into the blankets on top of you.

"Cold," you say as you knock the cool washcloth off of your forehead.

Sunmi grabs it just before it can fall and you feel her lie it down next to your head.

Little whimpers escape you and you dread the next spasm that will rock through your body. You shakily inhale and exhale it into a sigh. You feel so exhausted and you know you're far from over this despite wishing you were.

"W-What happened earlier? How did I f-faint?" Your question is loud in the otherwise quiet room.

There's no answer at first until the doctor speaks.

"It's completely normal for fainting to be the first thing that happens when you slip into this sort of withdrawal. Excess stress could help speed it along faster."

You were feeling stressed. Hyun-Woo's constant kisses and touches were bothering you to no end. You only felt nausea and a headache at first but it all must have snowballed when he wouldn't stop touching you.

You flinch at the memory. And you weren't alone either. You remember Jungkook being there. What must he have thought? Seeing you so prone to Hyun-Woo's touch despite you not wanting it. Despite seeing you getting ready to faint. He wouldn't speak a word about this would he?

"Jungkook," you say but no answer from anyone follows. "W-What about J-Jungkook? H-He won't s-say anything - he c-can't." You can't stop stuttering as more chills wrack your body.

"I didn't see Lord Jungkook." Sunmi says.

"He must have left soon after Y/N had fainted. Don't worry though I'll make sure he doesn't speak a word of this."

Hyun-Woo's words bring you little comfort. By now everyone would know if he wished to speak up on it. Gods know what time it was - how long it's been since you fainted. You try not to think about it but the worry is eating you up inside.

At that moment your body seizes again and you cry out loud from how unexpected it was. You can feel hands hover over you with care - unsure of what to do.

"She'll be like this for a while. The best you can do is make her feel comfortable and keep her hydrated."

"There's no medicine we can give her to help ease her?" Hyun-Woo asks.

"There are options but I'm limited in my resources here. Her best bet is to be sent to a rehabilitation center."

"No," you cry out. "I d-dont want to go!"

"Shh, shh it's okay, Y/N. You don't have to go if you don't want to." Hyun-Woo shushes you gently as his hand pats your arm from beneath the covers.

Your body relaxes a little at his words but you still feel slightly on edge. You don't want to go. Not that it was beneath you but because it was so unknown to you and you'd be away from home. Away from work and everyone will know why you're gone. You couldn't deal with that. Not now or ever.

A part of you hates yourself for going through this. For dealing with Hoseok but for also thinking you could get through this without him. You're at a war with yourself and can't trust your thoughts when it comes to him.

"I'm going to run this under cold water again." Sunmi's words are soft but you can hear her all the same as she removes the washcloth from near you and steps away.

A hand caresses your face ever so gently. The hand feels like it's ghosting across from how soft the touch is.

"My poor angel. I'm sorry you have to go through this."

Your hand comes out from beneath the covers and weakly grasps the hand on your face. You softly cry at Hyun-Woo's touch. Part of you wants to push him away but you also want the comfort. You so desperately need it.

"I want it to stop," you cry.

"I know, love. I know."

It's quiet for a moment as Sunmi comes back. She comes to place the cloth onto your forehead much to your displeasure. You don't want it but you know she's doing this out of care so you relent and avoid swatting her hands away.

"Thank you, Doctor. You may leave. Feel free to house in one of the adjacent rooms just in case you are needed again."

You can't see him but you assume the doctor bows at Hyun-Woo's words before departing. It's as the door closes do you seize again. Your hand grips Hyun-Woo's tightly but it's for a moment as this spasm doesn't last for very long.

After breathing in and out deeply you take a chance and open your eyes. The room still spins around you but not enough to make you dizzy. You look over to your left and see Sunmi. It's hard to concentrate on her face but you see it all the same. To your right you see Hyun-Woo. He's sat on the bed by your side. You think you see his brows furrow in worry but again it's hard to concentrate with the room spinning around you.

You briefly close your eyes as you bring a hand up to rub at your face. "I feel fucked up."

"I can imagine." Sunmi says as she pats your head. "I told you it would be hard."

Hyun-Woo looks between the two of you with curiosity. "How do you two know each other?"

"We met in passing but hit it off quickly." Sunmi is quick to answer. She leaves out the parts about the bruises, rumors and Hoseok.

You can tell Hyun-Woo wants to know more but her smile let's him know that that's the end of it. He pouts in her direction with a side eye before looking back at you.

"Do you need anything, Dove? Would you like some water?"

You think about it for a second before nodding. "Yeah, I'm k-kind of thirsty."

He goes to stand up to fetch a bottle from his mini refrigerator. He's quick to come back and twist the cap off for you. It's just as you're about to grab it does your back spasm again and you grab the nearest thing and squeeze. It's Sunmi's hand and you can't bring yourself to feel bad when she winces. You're in too much pain to notice let alone care. You cry out when it doesn't want to subside and lasts for a couple of seconds longer. Once it dies down you heave a heavy breath. Sweat dripping down with the cool droplets of water from the washcloth. You feel a mess and you're sure you look it too.

"Here." Hyun-Woo softly says as he gently cradles your head up with one hand and brings the water bottle close to your lips with the other.

You take sips - afraid you'll vomit if you drink too much too fast. The cold water refreshes your system and when it becomes too much you push Hyun-Woo's hand away. He stops feeding you the water and lays your head back down just as gently as when he picked it up.

"Better," he asks.

You nod in response.

"Good. I'll keep it right here on the nightstand for whenever you need it. Just let me know."

He's so attentive to you. Treating you like a delicate flower that needs time and patience to flourish. Though you're not flourishing. Far beyond that. You feel like you're dying and it's with attentiveness does Hyun-Woo care for you. It leaves a weird taste in your mouth. Though you appreciate him looking after you you still recall all that he's done to you. Right now you feel like a wounded animal in the den of its predator. You can only do so much and accept what is given to you for your sake. At least Sunmi is here with you. That alone brings some relief to you. Though you know at some point she'll need to retire for the night. A thought strikes you right then.

"What t-time is it? How long have I been out?"

Sunmi looks at her watch but it's Hyun-Woo who answers as he stares at you.

"You've been out for roughly an hour."

"It's 5:45." Sunmi adds on.

That shocks you. You were out for almost an hour? You can't imagine that yet here you were and the time. The time!

"Hyun-Woo," you start off shakily. "It's a-almost time for dinner. Y-you need to go."

He frowns as he shakes his head. "I don't care for that. I want to stay with you."

You mirror him by shaking your own but regret it when it makes you a little dizzy. "I d-don't want anyone s-suspecting anything and Jungkook. You have to tell Jungkook not t-to tell anyone about this."

Hyun-Woo's frown deepens but before he can get a word in your body seizes.

You cry out from the pain. This one catching you off guard and forcing your body to contort. Your arms press backwards as your back is lifted off of the bed. You grit your teeth trying to get through the pain that spears through you. You heave a cry when your body relaxes once again after having been in an aching position and nearly shed tears from it all. You don't know how much more of this you can take.

"Hyun-Woo." His name leaves you in a harsh whisper. "Please."

You can tell he's debating on whether or not he should listen to you. The more stubborn side of him you're fearful of winning looks like it's coming to a head as his brows furrow.

"At least for a little while, Master."

The two of you look towards Sunmi.

"Talk to Lord Jungkook before he settles down to eat and stay for a little while after to avoid any suspicious glances that may be thrown your way."

You look back at Hyun-Woo and see that Sunmi's words got to him. You're thankful for her because he nods before looking at you.

"I won't be long then, I guess."

You give a soft smile in response.

He smiles back before leaning down to press a soft kiss against your washcloth covered forehead.

"Just give me some time and I'll be back, my love."

When he pulls back you have a hard time locking eyes with him. Choosing instead to focus on the ceiling. He doesn't say anything about it as he goes to stand up and you have to clench your jaw in preparation for any oncoming spasms just in case seeing you in pain might make him want to stay. Nothing happens and you're grateful for it as he sees himself out and leaves you alone with Sunmi.

It's quiet for a moment and you suspect Sunmi might have some questions. You look up at her and see she's staring at you.

"I'm s-sure you have s-some questions," you say.

"Yes, but it's none of my business."

"It's n-not but you already kn-know about Hoseok." You bite your lip.

"True," she says as she nods. Sitting up straighter she gives you a weird look. "I thought it was strictly carnal with Master Hyun-Woo."

You sigh. "I-It is or at least it was but i-isn't at the same t-time? I just," you sigh as you rub your face knocking the washcloth off. "I don't w-want him."

There's a solemn air that surrounds you both at your admission.

Sunmi carefully takes the washcloth from off the bed and holds it gently in her grasp as she looks at it. "And you haven't told him this?" She looks back at you.

"H-He doesn't want to hear it."

Her lips purse as she slowly nods her head. "You really know how to pick them don't you?"

You send a glare her way.

She laughs a little. "I don't mean to make it sound like it's your fault. I'm sorry." She continues to giggle at your expense.

"It's not funny."

"I know, I know." She sobers up as your glare lessens. Afterwards she sighs. "Besides handling your withdrawals first what are you going to do about Master Hyun-Woo?"

You mimic her sigh though yours is tinged with pain. "I d-don't know."

"Hoseok will be leaving so he isn't an issue. You just need to avoid him for the time being. As for our Master," she gives a pained expression. "He's a constant. You'll be dealing with him every day."

You groan as you go to rub your eye. "P-Please don't remind m-me. AH!" You yell out in pain when another spasm hits you this time in your lower back. It forces your right leg to cramp and seize up itself.

Sunmi's hands outstretch towards you in worry but there's only so much she can do. You appreciate the concern nonetheless. As soon as it's over you whimper. You don't know how much more of this you could take. You think back on Hoseok's words. He told you he'd give you two days but you don't know if you could last. You're not even halfway done the first day and you feel like you're about to lose your mind. Your body ached - your soul ached. You wanted this all to stop. Your eyes practically roll to the back of your head as you try and settle into bed.

"I don't know," you slur.

Sunmi looks confused. "You don't know what?"

You shake your head lightly. "I d-don't know how much m-more I can take."

She purses her lips as she looks down at you in pity. "Just know your other option isn't any better."

Your other option: Hoseok. But would it be so bad? You curse to yourself. You didn't want him though. Or at least you think you don't. Your brain is too muddled to think on that. Even then, could you be with someone as possessive as him? As Hyun-Woo?

You rub your temple as a growing headache makes its way beneath your skin. Your thoughts jump back and forth to yes and no to up and down and to left and right. Nothing makes sense yet it does and Hoseok is both your savior and your damning devil. You try and stick with your thoughts and feelings prior to all of this and that it's no, you don't want Hoseok. You want him out of your life and out of your system. You're getting through this withdrawal without him and you'll prove to him and everyone who knows about this that you're strong. You can get through this.

A sharp pain stabs from your temple through your eye. Softly you gasp at the feel of it. You wipe your eye when you feel wetness and for a second you're scared you'll see blood but when you pull your hand back you see nothing but regular tears. You sigh in relief but it does nothing to ease your pain.

Your teeth chatter as a cold chill sweeps over you. This alone doesn't help you at all. Feeling like you're boiling from the inside but you're cold on the surface. Stuttering when you speak because you can barely handle the way your body shudders from the chills and pain that wrack through your body. You're an utter mess at this point. You want to scream, you want to cry, you want to sleep all of this away. You want to do a lot of things but there's only so much you can get away with at this point and time.

Why? Why you?

✞✞✞✞✞✞✞✞✞✞✞✞✞✞✞✞

"Your little pet is ill." Hoseok recalls Jungkook's words. He suspected as much. Judging by the time he guessed the withdrawal effects would start to kick in. You'd be falling ill without him and there wasn't much he could do about it. He wanted you to learn your lesson first and foremost. That you needed him. He knows you won't last for long - no matter what you believe in.

Hoseok is currently sat at the dining room table. Most of the people are here except for Jungkook and that bastard Hyun-Woo who he suspects managed to find out about your situation. He knows it wasn't because you willingly told him but because Hyun-Woo has a knack for butting his nose into other people's business. Only the gods know how many times he's done so over the years Hoseok has known him.

It takes a while before Jungkook makes an appearance. Seokjin and Hoseok raise a brow in question to the younger vampire who enters the dining area with a small but irritated pout. Hoseok knows it's because he's hungry and whatever it was was that was keeping him from eating is no doubt on his shit list. The young one nearly throws himself into his seat that was barely pulled out before him and grabs his knife and fork. He doesn't even know what there is to eat yet. If he did he would see the main dish didn't require a knife but he picked it up only to then run the two utensils across each other illiciting a sharp sound. Hoseok clenches his teeth in irritation. If there was a sound he hated most it was the sound of utensils being scraped against one another as well as being scraped across a plate and teeth. Jungkook was clearly doing this because if there's one thing he does when he's mad it is to act like a petulant child throwing a tantrum.

He runs the fork over the knife one more time before Hoseok barks at him.

"Enough!"

Jungkook along with everyone else at the table looks up at Hoseok.

"If you're mad about missing dinner that is still clearly here I'd suggest you find a less annoying way to deal with it."

Hoseok is mad at him which just makes Jungkook pout harder.

"Sorry, hyung." His words are soft though Hoseok hears him all the same.

The older vampire doesn't acknowledge his apology because his thoughts are now filled with you and another vampire who suddenly makes his appearance now. Hyun-Woo enters the dining area and he reeks of stress. He can smell you on him but not much else besides the vampire's disgusting scent.

"I was wondering if you were going to join us or not." Hyun-Sik speaks with an ever present smile.

Hyun-Woo gives an awkward smile in return but Hoseok can tell he's not all here. His mind is elsewhere and Hoseok can guess where.

Everyone continues to eat but neither Hyun-Woo nor Hoseok find themselves able to eat. The former because of you and the latter because of Hyun-Woo's presence. It leaves Hoseok feeling irate knowing Hyun-Woo had been with you. No doubt touching you - trying to express his love to you. Though Hoseok may have given you permission to do whatever you so please during this time of withdrawal it didn't mean he had to tolerate it. Especially when it had to deal with Hyun-Woo himself. Speaking of which...

The vampire looked unsettled. He wasn't very good at hiding his feelings. If anyone else noticed they made no move to acknowledge it. Hyun-Woo was silent but Hoseok could tell something was wrong with him. His eyes looked through the plate before him and he would nervously bite his lip. He sat wound up in his seat - tense amongst bodies that sat still and calm. If it weren't for his self control Hoseok would roll his eyes openly at him. How much more obvious could he make his situation be?

Hyun-Woo clears his throat as he reaches for his glass so he can be served wine. He tried to act natural but the actions fall through into a pathetic attempt. Hyun-Sik takes notice and smiles in his direction as he is served his own wine.

"Everything alright, dear brother?"

It takes Hyun-Woo a second to realize he's being talked to. When he does his eyes go wide for a second before his features grow calm.

"Of course. Why do you ask?"

Again Hoseok's self control is marvelous otherwise he would have laughed out loud at how stupid Hyun-Woo looked and sounded right now.

Hyun-Sik shrugs with a smile. "Just checking is all."

Hyung-Won looks over to the middle child of Baek and over to the youngest.

"Anything new I should know about? I feel like we don't talk as much as we used to."

Hyun-Sik smiles in his older brother's direction before looking down at his glass of wine. "It depends on what constitutes as new to you, brother."

Hoseok notes how the oldest doesn't react to the comment instead looking over to Hyun-Woo who looks off into space again.

"Hyun-Woo?"

Said vampire shakes his head softly before looking over to his brother. "Hm?"

Hyung-Won presses his tongue into his cheek before parting his lips to speak again. "You seem lost in space today. Anything on your mind?"

Hoseok looks at Hyun-Woo and wonders what he'll say next. Will he speak on you and what's been happening between you and him or will he stay silent?

Hyun-Woo is silent for a moment more before he shakes his head with a weird look. "I didn't sleep well. Still kind of tired."

There's a clang to Hoseok's right. Jungkook dropped his chopsticks as he stares in mild disbelief and interest towards Hyun-Woo's way. Hoseok takes it all in and he wonders what Jungkook would be willing to say at this point and time. All he got out of him earlier was that you had fallen ill and that Hyun-Woo had panicked. This was after Jungkook had spent some time with you and the other vampire over in the play room. It also seemed as if Jungkook wanted to say more to him but they were interrupted by Hyun-Sik who then led Hoseok off into the dining area to eat.

He hums to himself in silent thought.

Hyung-Won makes a sound of acknowledgement Hyun-Woo's way. "I see." Is all he says but it doesn't bother Hyun-Woo nor Hyun-Sik in how disinterested he sounded. Maybe they were used to this. Unlike the Bangtan clan who share almost everything with one another. There were no secrets between them. None whatsoever. Not even the one about you.

Regular conversation breaks out at the dining table. Seokjin casually stirring one up and everyone else falling in line. Hoseok finds himself talking here and there and Hyun-Woo feels like he has no choice otherwise people will start asking questions. The least spoken to because he rarely speaks back is Jungkook who eats his food like a man starved. Though Seokjin is used to this because of how things are back at home.

"Speaking of sweets," Seokjin trails off the topic of conversation. He looks towards Hoseok and a sickeningly sly smile overtakes his face. "How's your little darling, brother?"

Something akin to a snarl appears on Hyun-Woo's face because he knows. They all seem to when it came to Hoseok.

"Darling?" Hyun-Sik questions. "I'm assuming you mean our dear Y/N?"

"That's the one." Seokjin smirks as he takes a swig of his drink.

Hoseok takes a sip of his own without a single emotion to express. Nothing to hint here nor there.

"She's doing well."

"Is she now?" Seokjin questions.

He hums in response.

"You've really taken a liken to our maid. A maid who is off limits for the most part but that doesn't stop you now does it?" Hyung-Won states.

Hoseok has a hard time deciphering whether he meant that in a good or bad way but doesn't let it affect him either way. Instead, a smile that barely reaches his eyes overtakes his face.

"Despite being off limits as you say if there's one thing Hoseok is good at it's changing the minds of others." Seokjin says with a smile.

Hoseok doesn't acknowledge the comment but he watches the way the two Baek's watch their middle brother. Hyun-Sik smiles but it's almost reserved and Hyung-Won's brow raises in Hyun-Woo's direction. No one says a word in response but before it can get awkward a voice speaks up.

"She smells nice. Better than the ones Jimin brings home."

All eyes draw towards Jungkook who licks the chocolate mousse off of his spoon.

"Well we know why the ones Jimin brings home smell weird, Kooky."

Jungkook huffs at the nickname. "Not here, hyung."

"Oh right, right." Seokjin winks his way.

There's a subtle roll to Hoseok's eyes at the exchange.

"What would you do after you leave?" Hyun-Sik asks. Everyone looks over to him to see he was asking Hoseok. "You seem to forget she's our maid which means when you leave she's out of your life."

Hoseok smiles but it barely reaches his eyes. "I have my ways."

"That he does." Seokjin adds in.

The sound a of chair scraping against the floor resounds through the room. All eyes are drawn toward Hyun-Woo who stands with his hands leaning against the table. His eyes bore into Hoseok's face and all know if he had the power to he'd leave a hole from how hard he stares.

"You talk too much," he says.

Hoseok raises a brow in his direction.

Hyun-Woo stands to his full height and crosses his arms with a look of distaste. "You talk too much knowing she doesn't want you. After all it was me she chose over you."

Hyun-Sik's smiles drops as his eyes widen along with Hyung-Won's. Jungkook goes back to eating his dessert while Seokjin looks like someone told him the greatest of news.

He sits back in his seat with a wide smile. "Well this just keeps getting more and more interesting."

"What do you mean she chose you Hyun-Woo?" Hyung-Won asks.

"I mean that we're in a relationship. It's only recent but one that should be respected all the same."

Hoseok doesn't display his reaction but he's growing irritated by the minute. He doesn't know how much more he can hear the vampire before him delude himself into thinking he has anything going on with you.

"And this is Y/N correct? The same Y/N that's been denying your advances for months now."

"Hyung-Won." There's a slight pout to Hyun-Woo's lips.

"I only ask because it doesn't sound right to me."

"Well maybe he's right." Hyun-Sik says with a look of realization coating his features. "It would probably explain the marks on her neck I've seen. It must have been Hy-Woonie then."

There's an uncomfortable silence that takes over the room before it errupts.

"Wait, what marks?"

"She has bruises on her neck."

"Bruises?!"

"No as in love marks."

"Hyun-Woo doesn't seem the type to do that."

"Well I saw them too."

"You saw the marks too?"

Jungkook nods.

Everyone seems to quiet down after Jungkook speaks. Chaos took over almost every single person in the room except for Hoseok and Hyun-Woo who stare at each other. The former gives him a weird look while the latter looks uncomfortable from all the unwanted attention.

"Hyun-Woo?"

He doesn't know where the question came from but he can't take his eyes off of Hoseok. The other vampire sits before him with a cocky air about him. Like he knows the truth but that's because he does because it wasn't Hyun-Woo who marked her but Hoseok. And it's beginning to drive Hyun-Woo up the wall.

He grits his teeth in both anger and annoyance. "You can't have her."

Hoseok chortles. "I think she's already made her choice. You're just choosing to ignore it."

Hyun-Woo's hands turn into fists. He doesn't want to hear anymore of this. He doesn't have to because he has you in his room. You're with him and not Hoseok.

He turns away and leaves the dining area in a furious hurry back to his room. Back to you.

Hoseok knows where he's going and despite doing his best not to show it, he's annoyed. He figures you're spending your withdrawal with him because you need the support but Hyun-Woo is letting it get to his head.

The rest of dinner is set in an awkward silence. No one mentions Hyun-Woo or you again and they especially don't bother Hoseok. The brooding vampire finishes up what's in front of him quickly so he can head off somewhere where he'll more than likely be alone. He doesn't want to be in his room. He wants to be somewhere close to you so he chooses the garden. You love the garden so much and he'll be sure to have the one back at home ready for your viewing pleasure because he has plans for you. Plans for you to come home with him. It's just a matter of having your Masters relieve you of your duty. To relieve you to him. He has a lot of plans but none that can be met so far. He wants you dearly because he knows you're the one for him. He just needs for you and everyone else to see that too.

Hoseok pushes away from the dining table and makes his way to the garden. It's not a long trek and soon he finds himself before the sliding doors. Though his time here hasn't been long he looks upon the memories with you here as if they were from ages ago. He misses you and wants to relive them. He sits down in the very same spot as last time he sat out here with you. It doesn't feel the same without you here but he takes in the oncoming night air as if you were. Imagines your hand is outstretched towards him and imagines himself taking it into his own. Imagines him kissing each and every delicate finger of yours until he lays one into your palm. Imagines the way your face will blush and watch as the redness takes over your ears and neck. His flower whose scent was once her own but now intermingles with his after he gave her a part of him from each kiss. It was like that for vampires. Oftentimes mates would exchange scents but since you were human only yours would change. He could tell by the smell already that you were becoming his. An enticing scent that could draw other vampires in during the process of exchanging but over time you'll smell more and more like him until all that's left of you is him and him alone.

He leans back in his seat and closes his eyes. He wonders how far along you are in your withdrawals. Wonders how much pain you're in. He's no sadist but he takes pleasure in knowing you're hurting without him. He would love to be by your side and know you wouldn't be suffering because he would be there to give and give more of him so you wouldn't hurt but you wanted to prove to him otherwise. Yes, he's sure about that. He figures you want to prove your independence from him though you do want him. Prove that you're still an individual that can take care of herself. Though that means you're in pain now and so he can't bring himself to even think why this is a good idea.

He wants to visit you but last he checked your room you weren't there and he suspects you're with Hyun-Woo. Of all the people to spend this withdrawal with he can't understand why it's him. The vampire had to have forced you because his Y/N would never. It made no sense to him. He worries for you a little in his presence and wonders if he should send someone in. Someone he can pay good money to keep an eye on you. They'll have to come up with a good reason to head into Hyun-Woo's room and have a believable tale as to why they can stay and take care of you in his stead, but he doubts Hyun-Woo will allow it. The man is too paranoid for his own good.

Hoseok huffs. He could just wait it out until you need him. That can work out too. He's confident you'll need him again and with that thought he is comforted because with time comes patience and soon you'll be his again.

#bts x reader #bts fanfic #bts fic #yandere bts #yandere bts x reader #hoseok x reader #yandere hoseok

[huffle-dork]

Swap into the Crystalverse: Prologue

Read Swapboys | Crystal’s AUs | SwapInverted Crossover | SwitchSwap | AO3 link

Taglist: @brokentimewatch

Alt was in his room, tinkering with some scrap and his magic. He had an idea he wanted to try so badly… but he couldn’t quite figure out how to do it. He sighs in frustration and let’s the magic he’s using fade as he huffs and leans back. Glitches walked up next to his leg and purred, rubbing against it. Alt absentmindedly pet her- until he heard the tv is his room suddenly flick on.

He jumped, glitching to his feet as he saw exactly what he was fearing it would be. Tv static pulsing with purple and green magic, an after image of a spiral within its depths. He heard the laughter of the mad magician already in his head and he shouted out and covered his ears, turning away and shutting his eyes.

“No no no! Fuck you- fuck you! Leave me alone!” Alt hissed but the magic around him increased, white noise filling his brain, bringing more of the siren’s call.

“I don’t have time to play these games, kitten. I need you for something very important and I need you now.” Magnificent’s acidic voice clawed at Alt’s mind. Purple flashed in Alt’s eyes as he momentarily looks back towards the screen.

Then he screams and grabs his head tighter, “no!” He tried to do what Dr, J had been teaching them- nonsense- he needed to fill his mind with enough to throw off the pull! He tried to think of colors- of his friends- the last gaming session they had, the night at the pub him and Henny had last week! Anything- anything to-!

The static reached a fever pitch of awful noise that was impossible to ignore. Alt felt it in every bone, pulsing in his blood. “Oh no you don’t, Anti. I’m not dealing with your rebellion today. You will come to me now.” Alt made a choked noise as his body and mind are assaulted with nothing but noise and pain.

“I-I’m not your fucking puppet anymore…! Y-You can’t- you can’t make me…!” Alt tries to bite back but it’s so hard to think with all this noise- sending his heart beating wildly and making him panic which only makes it worse-! He can’t stand it! The static is swallowing him whole!

He’s forced to look back at the screen- and the noise dulls to a quiet roar as Alt feels his body go slack, and his mind go blank. Purple light fills his eyes.

Laughter. His master approved. “Finally. Now, Alt, no more thinking- no more fighting, no more games. Come to me.”

“…yes, Magnificent.” Alt mumbled in a daze, glitches starting to build up around him.

Then, his door burst open, Chase’s eyes frantic. “Alt I heard screams and Glitches crying and-!” He paled, “no-“

Alt’s eyes met Chase’s as his body started to turn into pixels. Chase used every ounce of his speed to reach out to Alt, not even thinking.

“No!”

They both disappear in a mixture of tv static and glitches.

When they start to come back together they’re in a dimly lit concrete cellar. The air smelled musty and old- the walls lined with boxes of what looked like ancient artifacts. But, Chase shuddered as he recognized the symbol on the boxes- the 3 irised eye of Sclera.

Chase felt Alt move away from him and he hurries to try to hold him back. As Chase looks out towards the other side of the room, his blood runs cold.

A familiar doorway stands just slightly away from the wall. One made of one type of a stone on one side, marked with runes. The other made of pure obsidian. It’s just like the one they saw in… that other world. The one with the inverted thems.

Magnificent is standing right in front of the archway, uncharacteristically stoic and serious as he gazes out at Chase with cold eyes.

“Fantastic,” He spits, baring his teeth like a feral cat. “Unhand my cub. This doesn’t involve you.”

“Like hell it does!” Chase shouts, trying to gather up the struggling glitch. Alt wasn’t immediately trying to glitch away, which was something. Chase can see the magic fighting in his eyes as he looked at the archway behind Mag. He recognized it too. “You stealing away my brother to do god knows what is very much involving me!”

“D-danger-“ Alt whispers dully, not looking away from the arch as purple fights against blue in his eyes. “D-d-dangerous-“

Magnificent laughs and shakes his head. “Don’t play dumb with me, hero. You know exactly what this is~! We’ve all dealt with it once before!” His eyes shine with madness as he throws out his hands, “a gate to the multiverse! You have no idea how long I’ve searched… how long I’ve yearned for this!”

He steps forward, static building up behind him- the noise making Alt shudder and the corruption in his eyes get stronger. He tries to shake his head, cowering against Chase. “Nonononono-“

“Sclera tried to hide it from me~ but finally… I’ve found it. But… I can’t activate it alone.” Magnificent’s eyes flash hungerily towards the trembling glitch. He shoots out a hand- and green strings shoot out and then wrap around Alt’s wrists and his neck. He’s pulled away from Chase and into Magnificent’s arms.

“No! Fucking! Mag!” Chase cries out, power pulsing in his eyes. “Have you learned nothing, you egomaniac?! Messing with the other universes- its never worked out for you and only puts the rest of us into shit!”

Magnificent’s eyes are ablaze with frantic, desperate anger, grabbing one of Alt’s arms and blasting a wave of dark magic into him. Alt screams and writhes as the magic sinks in, dark veins crawling up his skin. Then he slumps, eyes fully taken over by purple. “I will have it- I will finally be able to do it! To become the most powerful magician these feeble worlds have ever seen!”

“Alt! No!” Chase cries and desperately tries to reach out to grab them. Magnificent snarls and blasts out magic fire- hitting Chase full blast in the chest. The hero doubles over and crashes to his side, curled up in pain.

Magnificent drags Alt backwards with him like a robber holding a hostage, claws sunk into his arm. Alt can’t resist as he’s pulled. But as they approach the door- Alt’s body fizzles and snaps with glitches, parts of him trying to turn into pure pixels. He whispers in a very small voice, “n-no… d…d-d-danger-“

“Silence.” Magnificent snarls as he grips Alt’s chin and forces him to face forward. Magnificent uses his other hand to flare out a black magic flame and then sends it into the archway. The air feels electric and heavy as the feeling of something being very very wrong increases on all of them.

“Anti. All I need you to do now-“ Magnificent giggles darkly, whispering in the glitch’s ear like a temptress.

Chase is struggling, trying to reach out to grab them. “No! Stop…!”

“-is glitch.” Magnificent purrs. He digs his fingers into Alt’s skin and flares more of his magic into him, barking out, “NOW!”

So much happens at once-

In a burst of electricity and speed, Chase lashes out and just manages to grab Alt’s foot-

Alt’s back arches as the magic forces him to use his power, a strangled gasp escaping his lips. Then his body breaks apart into pixels with a sharp electric zing! Alt’s own chaotic magic rockets out- green blue electricity meeting with the black magic flames. The runes on the doorway flash and hum with energy, color filling in the shapes rapidly. The three of them are immediately caught in a bubble of magic, darkness and blue crackling energy rapidly caving in on them like a black hole.

Then, the magic rockets out in a burst of color and white light as the runes finish powering up, blasting apart boxes and antiques in a wave of power.

And in the center of the doorway, was only a circle of soot. Bro Fantastic, Alt Brody and Magnificent were nowhere to be found.

In their own universe, at least.

#readswapboys #swapboys #swap into the Crystalverse #alt anti #bro fantastic #swap magnificent #this whole part was all written by me HFGGH #I got way too into it but it was so fun to write! JVHBN

[evedity]

SO... that new episode.. so we got what we've all been waiting for..

Ruby Rose mental breakdown!

So before yall say it. No Ruby ain't homophobic. She is just jealous that her teammates are happy while she is legit breaking.. I get why she is upset cause she is still literally grieving and at this point (and thanks for the help Jaune...) she only thinks she is a failure. She dosen't see herself deserving of anything now. She can't carry the whole world on her back and she is angry that her pain isn't stopping. Grief makes people angry.. we see that perfectly with Jaune and now we are seeing it with Ruby. She is having trauma responses and to those who are confused about why the others are okay and she isn't let me help. (Unfortunately I've had this issue before) Ruby carries the burden of the world. Even though she has lost so much she has never stopped. Here is the problem with that. Blake and yang had time to unpack and heal from their shared trauma. Ruby never unpacked it at all and it just piled up as the volumes went by. Now she is at a point where it's all spilling out and now she can't stand looking at Cresent rose without going into a panic attack. She sees everyone being happy and the overwhelming feeling of inadequately is making her frustrated. When that builds up you snap... like she did today.

So.. how is she going to get out of it? Personally when I let the trauma bottle up I had to break down and then just flipping let it all out. Honestly Ruby next episode is probably going to just cry and scream. Now does that fix anything? No but it releases the fuse. Ruby needs her team to just be there when that happens. To hug her while she falls apart. Then someone needs to teach her how to deal with that trauma and overcome it. She ain't going to be fine in one episode but her learning techniques for trauma will make her grow sign as a character.

Thanks for listening to my TED talk!

#rwby #blake and yang #ruby rose #rwby spoilers #rwby vol 9 #yang xiao long #bumbleby #whiterose #weiss schnee

[vickyvicarious]

Here I go, unto the breach. 3 October reactions, part 1

Oh shit, right from the very start this is intense

I love how he says he will be extremely precise and then specifies "lying on the floor on his left side"

Renfield :((((

The noise in the background, almost like a horrible wind

van Helsing: "I need to get dressed" *runs off to get his medical AND vampire-hunting supplies*

no one is getting any good sleep still. that's... probably not gonna get better after today

Quincey expressing compassion for Renfield, thank you! I love how he says "poor, poor devil"

"He went at once and sat down on the edge of the bed, with Godalming beside him;" They Are Holding Hands

RENFIELD'S GASPING. GOD.

I wanna cry already. listening to his breathing is so hard

"glad surprise" "a sigh of relief" followed by him asking to be freed from the straight-waistcoat AAAAAAAGH

the way he says "I've had a terrible dream" FUCK

"How good it is of you to be here" he doesn't even like van Helsing, I think he's just happy not to be alone. to have people willing to listen. I WANNA CRY

the quiet little "thank you." and rough gasp. AUUUGH

peace came when he heard the dogs barking

~hand holding of support~

"laughing with his red mouth" I HATE HIM I HATE HIM

the pained laugh on "promising me things"

"just as he used to send in the flies when the sun was shining." this makes me want to look back at the timing of when Renfield got flies and see how they line up

Dracula I love to hear your voice. I want you dead.

'Come in, Lord and Master!' noooooooooo

Dracula immediately reneges on his deal, of course he does

"he went on as though he owned the whole place, and I was no one." the pain of this for Renfield, constantly dismissed as a madman

"I thought that, somehow, Mrs. Harker had come into the room." oh shit

""When Mrs. Harker came in to see me this afternoon she wasn't the same; it was like tea after the teapot had been watered." OH SHIT

the way he says "it made me mad to think that he had been taking the life out of her!!!! honestly how he builds to that by getting faster and faster too

"and I grabbed it tight" the growl in his voice!!!

"ay, and he felt it too" YES YES YES "I didn't mean him to take any more of her life" auuuugh his voice is so so so good

how slow he says "flung me down"

Quincey this is not the time for propriety GET IN THERE

the crash of the door

FUCK HERE IT COMES

I love the music

Jack's voice shaking as he gets to Dracula. THE MUSIC

this is so terrible. agh i hate it agggggh

OH GOD MINA. NO NO NONONONO and her voice breaking even as she sobs and screams fuck

Art seeing her and probably thinking of Lucy as well. godddddd

"His wife was aroused by the quick movement, and turned to him with her arms stretched out, as though to embrace him; instantly, however, she drew them in again, and putting her elbows together, held her hands before her face, and shuddered till the bed beneath her shook." NO DON'T STOP YOURSELF

fuckklkj the way he says "Mina dear, what is it?" and his "my god" his gasping "help her, help her" adkslfjakdjsflk;dj

"you must not leave me!" I CAN'T

the way say sobs "Unclean!" breaks my fucking heart

"May God judge me by my deserts, and punish me with more bitter suffering than even this hour, if by any act or will of mine anything ever come between us!" that's it. I'm crying. fuckkk oh my god

"the hands tenderly and lovingly stroked the ruffled hair" THEY ARE SO

"We want here no more concealments." YEAH, YOU FUCKIN BETTER NOT

"I looked into Renfield's room; but there was no trace there except——!" Again he paused. "Go on," said Harker hoarsely; so he bowed his head and moistening his lips with his tongue, added: "except that the poor fellow is dead."" I can't remember right now who first suggested it but I insist upon believing that Art got there while he was still alive and was with him when he died. I refuse to let Renfield die alone

the music getting so gentle as van Helsing asks Mina to speak

~handholding~ god oh god this is so painful

god her voice so resolute, pushing through to sound calm and tell all details, but repeatedly waviering so badly

"that same white mist that I had before noticed" nearly losing her voice on the last word

her voice stuttering "o-on the windows of St. Mary's Church" oh god I hope that's not the guilt over Lucy again

'Silence! If you make a sound I shall take him and dash his brains out before your very eyes.' he shushes her. he is speaking GENTLY. you can hear the SMILE goddamn him

'First, a little refreshment to reward my exertions. You may as well be quiet; it is not the first time, or the second, that your veins have appeased my thirst!' I AM PUNCHING THE AIR

Jonathan groaning when she says Dracula's lips on her throat.

"a long time must have passed before he took his foul, awful, sneering mouth away" the hatred and disgust in her voice

THE DRIP SOUNDSSSSSS oh god I was not prepared for that

I love the echo/distance on Dracula's voice

oh I love the beat and music during Dracula's speech

the profanation of wedding vows

the savage joy in his voice, the triumph...

she works so hard to keep her voice controlled but she cannot say she drank his blood, she breaks down. oh god ohgod

Jonathan's hair turning white during Mina's story as the sun rises...

#dracula daily #re: dracula #renfield #mina murray #jonathan harker #jonmina #count dracula #van helsing #jack seward #arthur holmwood #quincey morris

[witchersmistress]

Fights and Frights

Hello my darlings!! lets add to the Blood empire shall we?? Monster August and Walter did not want to work with me today, so they are in time out until they can play nicely.

Trigger warnings: Blood, violence, hate, broken body parts, mentions of r@pe and irritation at yours truly.

Word count: 3.4K

As per usual my darlings, you do not have my permission to use, translate, or copy any of my work and use it as your own. if you do i will haunt you for the rest of your days

August’s POV

“I need to book a fight.”

 “Are you fucking kidding me?”

 “Tonight. Now.”

 “You’ve got some balls to call and ask me for anything.” 

“I’m not asking. Make it happen.”

 “I don’t do business with your fucked up family anymore. That includes you, August.”

 “I need a fight.”

 Dynamo sighs. “You’re the one who broke our deal. You almost killed me. Remember?”

. “It’s almost midnight on a Sunday,” he continues. “No one fights on Sunday. The best I can do is next Saturday.” 

“Tonight.”

 “There won’t be any money.” “You think I i give a fuck about the money?”

 “I think you need therapy.” he fires back, I don’t answer for a second. I should laugh at his comment, that he thinks someone could help me when I’m this far gone. But I can’t remember how.

 Not ten minutes ago, the twins dropped me off and went off to do whatever they do to forget a thing like we did tonight. I need to forget, too. I need to hit someone and be hit until there’s nothing left of either of us but blood and bones. “I know where your sister is,” I say at last. Colt doesn’t need money, either. I’m asking him for something, and I have to give him something in return. That’s how the world works. He’s quiet for another minute. “How?” “Baron found her. She’s in Tennessee, going by a different name.” He pauses only a second. “No one’s going to fight you when you’re like this.” 

“Like what?” There’s no curiosity in my voice, only a challenge, but he answers anyway.

 “Desperate.”

“Can you get me a fight or not?” 

“Do you have an address? A name?”

 “I’ll text it to you.” He sighs.

 “Merciless has been trying to get me to set her up with a guy. She’ll probably get her sadistic ass out of bed for you.”

 “No girls,” I snapped. I’m done hurting girls. Tonight was the last time I’ll fuck with a girl, any girl.

 I’m done with the clients, with the girls at work, with the Darling girls. There are enough men in that family to exact our revenge. Girls are too dangerous.

 “Then all I’ve got is Colin, and last time I put you up against him, you said you’d kill him if I did it again.”

 Tonight, that’s what I want. No rules. No audience. No morality. 

Colin Finnegan is the dirtiest fighter there is. He fights like a berserk wolverine who thinks he’s trying out for Ultimate Fighting Champion. Last time I fought him, he tried to take off my kneecap, which would have ended my service career, punched me in the nuts, gouged my eyes, and bit me. He’s lucky he’s still alive. 

The smile feels strange and grotesque as it stretches my lips. “Colin would be perfect.”

Harper’s POV

Suddenly, I’m wide awake. The sounds of the swamp are deafening around me, and yet, I find my heart beating in rapid rhythm, a scared rabbit on the run, as I listen for something more. I’m not sure if I was sleeping or passed out from the pain. I only know that a sound woke me. A soft rippling noise skims across the water, and my throat closes with fear. My mouth is so dry around the gag I can’t swallow. Pain throbs through me, constant and unbearably intense. Fear is the first thing I’ve felt in hours besides mind-crushing pain, but it doesn’t numb me. It only increases my senses, makes it worse. I push my feet against the ground at the base of the tree, taking the weight off my numb arms and screaming shoulders.

 I would cry if I had tears left. “Are you still out here?” The voice whispers out of the darkness, sliding along the surface of the water, curling around me like a cold snake. My whole body is wracked with a spasm of terror. They came back. I don’t make a sound. My heart is beating so hard I think it will rupture. There’s a soft splash and a curse. Slowly, he sloshes along, plodding through the mud and water, closer with each step. I pray he won’t find me. I pray I’ll die of fear before he does. My mind races out of control with my heart. It isn’t a cop or a search party. It’s too soon for that. They wouldn’t bother with the poor girl who attached herself to a powerful family like the Walkers, anyway. After all, they’ll say, girls like me run away from home over fights with their boyfriends all the time. No one will be surprised. Everyone knows August is all I have going for me. It won’t be like when August was kidnapped, when Local News with Jackie camped outside the Walkers’ house hoping to get a word with the rich new family who moved to town and lost their son. I saw that when I went digging for dirt on the Walker-Darling feud. 

It won’t be like when his twin disappeared, and the police organized waves of search parties to look night and day until the Ferrari was dragged from the river and they knew she was gone forever. For a girl like me, a girl who’s already eighteen and has no family to offer rewards, the police will send out a bulletin and be done with it. If they get suspicious, the Walkers will throw a little money at the mayor to make sure no one looks for me. “Are you alive?” What if it’s one of them coming back to kill me? Duke wouldn’t do it alone. Maybe Baron, just for fun. He probably thought he’d give me hope by leaving me alive, and his last cruel joke will be to come back just when I thought I was safe. Baron would untie me first, lay me on the ground, and take the blindfold off. He’d want to see my eyes, to see the life draining out of me. He’d want to study it. He’d probably get hard from it. August would be fast. He’d just stick a knife between my ribs or swipe it across my throat. No mess, no words. August is efficient, I have to give him that. He’d throw the knife in the swamp, and no one would ever find it. It would sink into the mud and disappear forever. “I know you’re here. Answer me if you’re alive, damn it.”

His voice sounds vaguely familiar—or does it? Maybe it’s delirium. “I’m gonna find a dead body, aren’t I?” the guy mutters, as if he’s given up talking to me and is talking to himself now. I don’t care. I’d welcome Baron back, even if he jerked off while he slit my throat. I don’t want to be found, to be woken by a football player with a conscience who came back for me. I want to die. I sag back against the tree, letting my legs go out from under me again. At some point in the night, my shoulder separated, and now pain drills into it like a bootheel crushing an ant. It’s too big to comprehend. A sound escapes me, some desperate plea for it to end. I can’t contain it. The last tether to my sanity is fraying. “Was that you? Fuck. It’s creepy as hell out here.” My parched throat cracks with pain from the sound. Suddenly, a spark hits the blindfold. I can only see a glint, but I know whoever is here, he’s found me. A high, keening sound rips from me unbidden, and pain slashes across the inside of my throat. “Holy fuck,” the guy says, his voice low with shock. I want to do something, to hide, to disappear, but I can’t remember how to do a single thing, even live. For a minute, all I can hear is his breathing, his feet dragging through the water when he moves, and the unmistakable whirr of a phone camera. Then the water near my feet ripples, and I can feel his presence so close it’s as if he’s touching me. I cower away, a sickening mewling sound clogging my throat. “I’m going to help you.” His voice is firm but edged with urgency, bordering on panic. Fumbling fingers pull at the knot of rope behind my head. I almost sob when it loosens, relieving my aching jaw. He carefully draws the gag from my mouth, the rope and the hood along with it. I can feel the wet weight of it come away as he pulls it free, soaked with snot and spit and tears.

 When he pulls the hood from my head, I can see faint light in the east, through the budding trees, but shadows still shroud the swamp, and I can’t see him past the glare of his headlamp. “Water,” I whisper, mouthing the words on a breath. “Right,” he says. He bends and unzips a bag, and a second later, he produces a metal bottle. Some silly, residual warning from my programming shivers through me—never take an open drink from a stranger. It makes me want to laugh. What can anyone do to me that hasn’t already been done? What can anyone take from me that hasn’t already been taken? I have nothing left of value, not even my body. The bottle shakes as he tips cold liquid into my mouth. At first, I can’t separate my dried tongue from the bottom of my mouth, but after a second, it pulls free. I drink greedily, swallowing though the water burns my dry throat, my traitorous body performing the act even though my brain knows I don’t want this. Water is life. August is right. Death is preferable. When my rescuer pulls the water back, my body protests, but it doesn’t reach my lips. I close my eyes, too exhausted by the small act of swallowing to do more. All I can do is whisper the words that circled my head all night. “They came back for me.” “I know,” he says. “But I’m going to get you out of here now.” His fingers work at the knots on my hands next. I bite my lips to keep from crying out. Swallowing the scream of pain that forces itself to my throat, I bite down harder, until I taste blood. He gives up and goes to his bag, and I see his silhouette and the beam of the light fall on a glinting silver blade when he pulls it out.

All at once, my entire body is shaking uncontrollably. My teeth chatter together so loud I can hear them over the sound of the insects and his heavy breathing. He steps toward me, and I shrink away, and then his body pressed against mine. He’s so hot, so hard, I want to scream, but only a ragged, choked sound escapes my bruised throat. His chest jerks against my shoulder as he makes a swift movement, and I hear a metallic twang, and the relief in my shoulders almost makes me scream again. When my hands come free, I crumple like I’m made of wet paper. With a curse, he drops the knife to catch me as I fall. His warm hand lands on my breast, and my nipple contracts. Neither of us move for a second. A shock goes through me that my body can still feel anything but pain, even if it is an involuntary response. I’m still alive. My body is alive, even if the rest of me died on that tree. “They came back,” I whisper through chattering teeth, my brain insisting he knows something, that he understands. But I can’t put into words the horror of what happened to me tonight. “I brought a blanket,” he says. “Can you stand?” I shake my head, and he pushes me back against the trunk. Instinctual terror rips through me again, and I push away, collapsing in a heap at the foot of the tree. I can’t comprehend what’s happening. A blanket falls over me. Strong hands grapple to lift me and wrap me. My hands are cocooned inside the fabric, but I don’t fight. The last of my fights drained away in the cold hours before dawn. “Who are you?” I whisper, my voice sounding like someone else’s. Or maybe it sounds ordinary, like it always has, but I’m someone else now. “Don’t worry about that now,” he says. It doesn’t matter. I know as much as I need to know. He’s one of the football players, someone who felt bad enough to come back for me, even after he joined in with the others. He did this, and yet, he came back. I don’t know if that makes him better or worse.

 The sky overhead is partially blotted out by tiny leaves, but the pale light creeping into the swamp from the breaking dawn has increased even since the man found me. All I can see as he kneels beside me putting away his water bottle and zipping his bag is a black beanie and broad shoulders. When he lifts his face, though, I take in what I didn’t register when blinded by his headlamp. A silver mask covers the top half of his face. I should feel something about that, but I don’t. For a moment, in the darkness, I can almost believe it’s one of the Walker brothers. But that’s stupid. Of course it isn’t one of the Walkers. Most of the guys in the world have broad shoulders and own beanies. And the accent is all wrong.

The accent belongs here. The Walkers don’t. Without thought, I pull my good hand free and reach for the mask I can barely make out in the scant light. He grabs my wrist. His grip is hard, punishing the bruised and broken skin. My mouth opens in a silent cry. “Don’t even think about it,” he says. “Or I’ll tie you back to that tree and leave you. Understood?” I nod, pain choking off my words. “Never, ever touch the mask,” he says. “And we have a deal.” I nod again, forcing my throat to swallow. I don’t know what he means by a deal, but I don’t want it. Deals with the devil are what got me here. “Deal?” he asks, his grip tightening until I cry out. The piteous sound echoes through the dim, watery swampland around us. “Deal,” I whisper, curling over my arm. Because what does it matter now? What can he take that hasn’t already been taken from me?

“Good,” he says, releasing my hand and tucking it inside the blanket. “Good girl.” He stoops to gather me into his arms. He takes a second to get his balance with the backpack on his back and me in his arms, and then he steps into the water. Pain lances through me with each step he takes, though he moves slowly, feeling his way through the shallow pools and soft hillocks. He trips on a few roots, but he doesn’t drop me. I begin to thaw from the cold, the blanket and his body heat seeping into me as he slogs through murky swamp water, over patches of dry land, slipping on mud. The rhythm of his steps lulls me, and within minutes, I’m drifting into unconsciousness again. I fight to keep my eyes open, to stay awake, to be aware of where he’s taking me. But what’s the point? Why bother? I let myself slip away. When I wake, he’s standing over me, laying me in the backseat of a truck. The sky above is pale morning blue now that we’re out of the trees, and by the cabin light, I can make out the features not hidden by the mask. Sharp features, hint of a tan, good lips. Again, I could almost believe he’s familiar if I tried hard enough.

But I don’t because I dont care. It doesn’t matter who he is. He’s not one of my boys, and they aren’t my boys any longer. They never were. It was all a lie. My lie. My fault. I could have stopped it at any time, and it would have been real. But I didn’t. Which means it was all for Mr. D. ``Who are you?” I ask again, my voice greedy and rough and without curiosity. “Don’t worry about it Harper,” the man in the mask says. He closes the door and circles the truck to climb in the front seat before speaking again. “You’ll be safe with me.” He pulls onto the highway, almost empty this time of day. The whirr of the tires beneath us lulls me again, and I feel my battered body struggling for rest, my mind begging for oblivion. I don’t want to think about what happened, about what they did to me. I don’t want to remember the look of betrayal on August’s face, the tiny glimpse I had in the mirror before he stopped the car, before his eyes emptied of all life.

 I don’t want to remember how he betrayed me, either, the disbelief I felt when he turned away from my pleas and allowed his brothers to take what they’ve been asking for since the first time he told them I belonged to only him. I sink into the blanket and let myself forget. I wake in a cold sweat of terror when the truck stops. “Come on,” the masked man says. “Let’s get you cleaned up.” I don’t move, but he must not expect it. He pulls me out of the back seat, hoisting me into his arms. We enter a building through his garage. There’s a set of stairs and another door. He lays me on a leather couch and takes pictures. I think I should protest, but I don’t. It doesn’t matter. When he’s done, he takes me into a bathroom and gets in the shower with his clothes on, holding me up by the back of my head like a doll as he hoses me off with the showerhead. His hands are gentle but efficient as he washes every inch of me. I don’t move, not even when he spreads my legs and washes between them with the showerhead. The warm water burns my torn flesh like a torch, and I lose my breath at the pain, blackness swimming over my vision. When he’s done, he pulls me out and towels me off, then carries me to a bed and lays me down. He looks at me for a long minute. “What’d you do to piss off the Walkers?” he asks.

I don’t answer. My throat hurts too much. He covers me with a blanket and leaves the room. Some time later, I wake when I hear voices arguing in the other room. I close my eyes and try to block them out. I just want everything to go away. A man comes in and tells me he’s a doctor. I didn’t know they made house calls anymore. He pokes at the torn corners of my mouth, my bruised throat, the burn on my hip. He sets my dislocated shoulder and gives me a sling, puts my hand in a splint.

 I think how strange it is that before now, losing the use of my right hand would have devastated me. Now, I don’t care. The doctor gives the man in the mask a bottle of pills and leaves. I turn over with my back to him and sleep again. Later, the masked man comes back. It’s dark outside the window. I know I’ve been here a day or two already. I want to leave, but it’s not safe out there.

The stranger gives me juice and pills to swallow and takes pictures of my face. He stands over the bed for a minute, his phone in one hand. Then he pulls off the sheet, rolls me over on my stomach, and pulls me to the edge of the bed so I’m bent over it. I know he’s going to fuck me, but I don’t fight. What’s the point? I won’t win. He puts on a condom and pulls out a bottle of lube from the nightstand, running a line down his cock. Then he lowers it to my entrance and pushes in. It hurts, and I cry, but he’s quick. Afterwards, he showers me off again and tucks me into bed. Later, I feel him curl up around me, and I fall back asleep.

#henry cavill imagine #henrycavill smut #henry cavill x you #august walker fanfiction #henry cavill characters #august walker fanfic #august walker #august walker imagines #henry cavill #henry cavill thirst

[stonemags]

A pattern (W.M.)

Wanda Maximoff x reader

gif source

Summary: Wanda is in a dark place and you have to comfort her

Warning: heavy topics, sad wanda, wanda depends on reader, allusions to suicide, 18+

Word count: 605

A/n: hello this post was professionally edited by @sheisnotalone (like the blog layout huehuehue) hi everyone, can't say too much about the fic because i feel like it's not my playce since i didn't write it. leave mags a lot of nice notes on this because she is amazing and say thank you to her for trusting me with editing her entire blog, ly mags <3

10pm 

She goes to sleep. You know that she is not okay. The mission went bad. The news doesn't help with dealing with the lost lives and screams off people that all of you heard and will be hearing for the next weeks. It became a pattern. You know how it goes. By her behavior you know she will be having an attack today. It's 10 pm and you make yourself a coffee. You are tired, and in pain you want to cry but something tells you that if you will, the whole world is going to end. You can't count on her. She is counting on you. And you know she will be needing you today.

1 am 

She woke up. You hear her going to the kitchen, probably for a cup of water. It's a pattern. You know what will happen next, you just don't exactly know when. A pattern. You hear her putting the glass in the sink, she doesn't wash it. She thinks you're asleep. You pretend that you are, but you can't, you are too tired to sleep. The caffeine hits and your heart is pounding. You were on a mission and the last time you slept was an hour on the quinjet, before that you were awake for over 30 hours. You are tired. It's a pattern. You just want to…..

3am 

You hear her. She woke up and started crying or maybe she was crying in her sleep. You can't be sure. She is mumbling and you can't understand it, you don't want to. She starts screaming.  A pattern. You turn on your back. She starts screaming louder, she sounds like she is in pain. Nobody is getting up, they know that you got this. Do you? You need to, they expect you too. You are tired. You just want to…. You are getting up, dragging your feet to her room. You grab her and you can't wake her up. A pattern. You just want to…. She hugs you and cries on your shoulder while you lie with her. She doesn't want to but her power makes you see all of her nightmares. You are tired. She asks you to tell her that everything will be okay. A pattern. You tell her and you don't believe a single word that is coming out of your mouth. She is still crying. She falls asleep.

4am

You are tired. You lie down on the couch. She is asleep. For how long? She starts crying again in her sleep. You hope it will pass. Over 40 hours awake. You just want to….. you can't she counts on you. They all do. A single tear, you get up angry at yourself. " Turn it off, turn it off, turn it off, turn it off" a mantra. It's a pattern. You just want to…. She is screaming again, and you go and hold her as long as she needs too.

6 am 

She fell asleep an hour ago. A balcony… a dawn, silence, you are tired and it's windy. Stark Tower is really high and you are really tired. You just want to….. Natasha woke up and went on the run with Steve. They are all waking up. You go to the kitchen to make yourself another coffee. You stopped counting the hours. She will come through this door soon, you let her sleep. You both will be pretending that nothing happened. She will eat, you can't. Your lungs are collapsing with pain, your throat hurts and you just want to…… a pattern. You want to… but you just have to start another day.

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