#has to deal with or acknowledge or consider.....and so much more

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

You don’t get to tell me about sad

Previous chapter

a/n part three! I’m brain dead so sorry for the wait. I hope you will all enjoy this. 🫧🫶🏻

summary: Azriel gets an assignment he can’t seem to decline. Now he has a princess full of attitude under his protection. The only question is whose cold heart will break first.

warning: past trauma, scars, injuries, blood.

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You were sure that your lip was going to burst from the way you kept biting on it, trying to suppress the laugh as the carriage rolled through the misty autumn forest. Convinced that nothing was ever going to top the sight of Azriel, squished the opposite of you. He was scowling so hard that he was most definitely the reason why the sky had ripped open. Pouring rain drowned the lush forest since the early morning. It looked like you were driving to a funeral at best, gruesome execution at best. 

“Don’t start with me today," Azriel grunts, his eyes burning into yours. Yet now that he acknowledged you, the smile only seemed to spread wider. He lets out a grunt, and a quiet giggle slips past your lips. "Princess, life suits you," you mumble, making Azriel roll his eyes. “Come on now; it’s not so bad. Don’t huff”, you nudge his leg with your heel, earning yet another glare.

“Could have winnowed us there”, “You did almost all the way”, you point out. And you would have happily obliged, but the murmurs about something being wrong with the high lord’s family had started. So Lucien and Eris had made their outing. If not for the rain, you would have done just the same. Take a walk through the main streets. But now seeing the family carriage and your face through the glass would have to be enough. 

“Why do you hate autumn so much?”, It’s a bold statement to make. You’re not sure if he even hates it. Well, considering the amount of frowning he does, he has to. “I have my reasons," Azriel answers as bluntly as he can. “Care to elaborate?", you turn to him, ready to dig an answer out of him if you had to. He owned you, considering his creeping around your room. But your eyes fall on the way he’s trying to subtly rub his palms together. The scarred skin—humidity must be making the bones ache too. He’s impossible to read, but you’re convinced that the discomfort hunts some of his features. You don’t care. You shouldn’t care, yet you still inch closer. There’s not much space inside the carriage considering that man’s size, but it’s enough for you to brush your legs against him. As expected, Azriel’s hands instantly reached to put distance between you both. But that’s when you yank the side of your cloak up, draping the fur-lined material over his scared palms. 

“What are you?", "Shhhh," you say quickly. He tries to pull them out, but you catch his gaze—a daring look there. “Know your”, but you cut him off once more, “Next words out of your mouth better be, thank you, princess," you muse. Azriel clenches his jaw. But he doesn’t pull back. Doesn’t fight the warmth slowly seeping through the stiff skin. “I thought you hated that nickname, princess," he says. One thing this man hadn’t learned in life was dealing with women. Clearly. You shrug, “Not so bad when it’s you who calls me that," you muse, watching as a glimpse of surprise washes over his features, and then the scowling coldness returns. 

Azriel doesn’t like it here. The thought alone had unsettled him ever since Lucien had announced the need to go back. “The High Lord needs to make a statement," Lucien had stated. Azriel itched to say that Eris wasn’t his high lord. But he knew that regardless of Eris’s wishes, he would have gone. Because you were going there. So here he was, standing outside the forest house. Not daring to go forward alone. You had waved him off. Told him to go inside while you checked on the horses. But he refused to step inside. So he stood there, trying to memorize every window.

“Who’s snooping now?", your voice fills Azriel’s ear as he slowly turns to you. Arms crossed as you grin at him. He wonders why you hadn’t mentioned that night in your room. Why you brushed it off so easily. “I just needed to stretch my wings." It’s not so much of a lie. It had been a disaster of a trip here. You barely manage to open your lips when an unfamiliar voice comes from behind, “Yn, Yn.“

Azriel pushes you behind him, his hand reaching for his dagger. But you slip out of his grasp, glancing over his shoulder. And then you’re stepping forward. “Makoa?”, it’s a whisper, and Azriel doubts that a disheveled-looking boy would hear it. But he does. And that name alone makes Azriel uneasy. The same boy you had sneaked out with. And just like that Azriel decides that he hates Makoa.

"Wait," you push again Azriel's arm, but his grip doesn’t falter. “Anyone can be a threat," the spymaster points out. “I know him," and it’s the desperation that makes Azriel back up. The same one that he had when he called out to Mor. To Elain. The lost kind. One that had you hanging up on things that weren’t there. 

“I’ve been looking everywhere for you," Makoa mutters once he is in arms reach of you. Azriel has to bite his tongue because nothing about that statement seems genuine. “You can imagine it’s been busy over here," and your voice is different too. Hazy almost. You bite at Azriel. Spewing venom. And here, this boy makes you behave like a youngling with your first-ever crush. “You could have written to me; I’ve missed you." Makoa raises his hand, and Azriel instantly inches to step forward, but then the boy is leaning in, his lips brushing over yours. Making Azriel lower his head. A strange sort of feeling brews within him. One that’s not welcome here. So he turns back onto his heel, heading deeper into the woods. To clear his consciousness. His logical thinking. His heart.

“Everyone missed you," Makoa points out, your hands clasped in his. The feeling is strange. It’s all so wrong  because, yes, he has been vocal about courting you, but this… To be kissed in front of someone he doesn’t even know. You glance back. Eyes scanning the front gardens. He’s not there. Azriel isn’t there, and a dreadful sort of uneasiness pools in your stomach. 

“It’s just been a couple of days," you brush his statement off. You were trying to find joy in something you had dreamed of ever since you slipped that book beneath the floorboards. “You’re behaving strangely," Makoa mutters, his hand reaching out for your forehead, but you bat it away. “I’m just tired," but you’re more than tired. You need answers, and quite frankly, you’re willing to do about anything to get them. 

You can trust the man in front of you. His mother used to do laundry for your family. Until Beron changed his mind or whatever happened. As if reading your mind, Makoa reaches up, cupping your cheek, “What is it you can tell me?" A part of you is screaming to just drop it. Talk to Azriel first. But then he wasn’t there. He wouldn’t know. 

“Do you remember the night on the harvest moon, well after it?”, you say quietly, looking over your shoulder for servants. “I walked you home," Makoa shrugs. Well, he did more than that, but sure, that will do for now. “Someone was waiting for me," you admit. “I didn’t go inside; I went to the barn to feed the horses." It was misty and cold outside. You didn’t catch their face. Just a hooded figure.

“I... someone tried to slice my throat open." Brushing your hair to the side, you let the white line shine in the midday sun. Makoa watches. But he doesn’t frown. There’s almost no reaction. Azriel looked more concerned when you caught him brushing his fingers over it that night. Genuine concern. Or maybe you were just imagining it. 

Makoa brings you into his chest. “What a shame," he breathes out, and your hands are instantly pushing against his chest. "Pardon," you huff, brows knit together. “I mean, it’s horrible, yes," he says, lifting his arms in defiance. You shake your head. Too tired. Too tired for this. After all, you didn’t expect him to take you seriously. He was too wild. Too carefree for that. 

"Look, just be careful, okay?", you mutter, your eyes searching him, but he only shoots you a wicked smile. “You don’t have to worry about me," he muses. You burn to tell him that you both are no longer kids. There are serious matters, but you don’t have it in you to fight another battle today. “I’ll see you in the party," you say as you step back, letting your fingers slip out of his grasp. But then he’s pulling you back. Hand on the side of your face. An eager kiss smothered against your lips, “I wouldn’t miss the spectacle.”

Azriel’s task this weekend was easy. If he was being honest, he didn’t quite grasp why exactly he was asked to come. But then Eris might have just done it to spite him. All he was responsible for was keeping an eye on you when Eris and Lucien couldn’t. So essentially, babysit a grown woman. Now he was standing with his back against your door. Throwing his knife up and down in his hands. Trying to beat his record of spins before it lands back into his palm. 

“Okay, am...", your voice breaks the second-floor silence, making Azriel pause. “Can you get Maria?”, Azriel shakes his head even if you can’t see him, “She just went outside for the flower arrangements." The elderly woman had pinched his cheek way too many times, but as much as he hated it, she reminded Azriel of his own mom. 

"Fuck," the sound of things falling inside the room, makes Azriel press his ear to the door.“What’s going on?”, he demands. Silence falls. “I...", you start, but it ends with a frustrated sigh. “Well, let’s hear it," he muses, hoping for yet another privileged little dig he could throw back at you. 

“I can’t reach the back of the dress to do the..." It’s a whisper. A frustrated one at that. “We have twenty minutes," Azriel points out. “I know, tree man, I know," you growl in frustration, cursing to yourself as you continue to struggle. 

“I'm coming in," Azriel states, instantly frowning at his own words. "No, you are not," you snarl, and he is sure that you are frowning. “On three," the spymaster warns. But he doesn’t even get a chance to start the countdown. “Fucking, Azriel,” you say, yanking the door open. Rosy cheeks. Slightly disheveled hair. And that deep red satin dress. So far different from the one he had seen you in the first time you both met. That was a girl. This… You were meant to be in red. In…

“Eyes up here, moron," you say, reaching up to flick his nose. One arm holding the material upfront. You turn away from him. The smooth back exposed to his scared hands. Azriel shakes those thoughts away. “I’ve seen females before," he states, reaching for the golden buttons. “Really? I would have taken you for a virgin," you snort, shaking your head ever so slightly. Azriel fake gasps, earning a glimmer in your eyes. “What is that supposed to mean?”, he says in the most dramatic way possible. You bite your lip, trying to hide that smile. He knows it. Feels it.

“Just do the dress up," you urge him, motioning to your back. Azriel halts, letting his hands drop to his side. “Start with a please," he says proudly. You glance up at him, “Are you being serious?” Surely a man who just completed about the amount of time you had wasn’t going to start playing games. “I decided that etiquette lessons are in order," he shrugs, making you roll your eyes. “I will spit in your drink tonight. How is that for your etiquette lessons?” You flash him one of your fake smiles. “Delightful, just how I like it," and it’s so unexpected that you are left slack-jawed for a split second, and then he grabs your shoulder and turns you around, nudging you forward. “You’re disgusting," you say, pushing your heel against his leg, making a little rumble of laughter fill the space. “Says you," he breathes practically against your skin, sending shivers down your back. 

You fidget with your sleeve as you and Azriel make your way towards the main part of the event. Public outings still felt strange. The big crowd overwhelmed you. But you had missed out on so many great things  and parties, especially when you were growing up. That now….

“Only a weirdo disappears like that," you halt suddenly, leaving Azriel to walk along until he too stops. Turning to face you. You quickly put a finger against your lips, stepping closer to the second-floor railing. “That’s what I told Makoa”. You know those voices. You don’t even need to look down the staircase to know who they belong to. 

“Daddy beat her, I heard," and it’s like someone dumped a bucket of ice water on you. Tingles spread through your body like fire.“ She lived beneath the floorboards; I doubt she knows how to interact with living things." You let the words slash at you. After so many years, they don’t make a difference. It’s the fact that every time you feel as if you found someone willing to look past it, they still end up stabbing you in the back. 

That’s when your eyes fall on Azriel, practically charging towards the stairs. "Don't," you hiss, reaching to grab at his wrist, pulling him back. “It’s disrespectful, and I’m being very polite with my words here," he grunts. Venom. Purest of venom painting his features, and yet you cut him off. “I said don't," you step in front of him, pressing your palms against his chest. “It’s just another joke for them. You throwing a fit and acting all gruff won’t change a thing.”

Azriel watches you for a moment before a bitter laugh crawls up his throat. “And those are your friends? People that you think are not a threat to you? ”, he points downstairs in frustration. A wave of guilt. Shame. Fills you in seconds. You feel that familiar sting in your eyes. But you brush it beneath all the other pain. “Daddy got them for me; I didn’t have a chance to choose; my apologies," you purr through gritted teeth. 

And it’s as if you threw a comeback punch. The arrow shooting once again. Azriel’s shoulders sag. “Yn...", he breathes out, but you don’t want it. Don’t want pity. The sad eyes. The smothering. To hell with it. “We should go find my brothers." You pick at the skirt of your dress, turning to the stairs. “It was insensitive of me," Azriel’s words slam into the wall you had built, making you close your eyes for a moment. “Don’t get tangled in this; this has nothing to do with you," you mutter, not turning back to face him. Forcing your legs forward. Azriel stands at the top of the staircase for a heartbeat, watching you. Then he glances over his shoulder. One heartbeat. Two. And he unleashes his shadows to the first floor. 

The terrace is buzzing with people. If it were up to Azriel, he would be right by the platform, but there are Eris’s guards here. So he’s just standing by. That prick had it in him to suggest wine. Azriel, of course, took it. Before dumping it right next to Eris’s shoes. Rhys told him to behave, yes. And so he was, because the second option was to punch the fireling in his face. Pick and choose.

Azriel catches a glimpse of you. Well, more like all he had been doing was catching glimpses of you. Like a moth to a flame. Even if he tells himself not to, his eyes always seem to find you. That distant look in your eyes. Like you’re not here, even if your body is. He also doesn’t doubt that it’s partly because of the things the people said. Why not fight back? You seem to be fine doing that when it comes to him. But crumple the moment the people who are meant to be closest to you are involved. 

As if by coincidence, your eyes glance up, meeting Azriel’s. He should be scowling, yet he finds himself smiling. Just a little. He puts a finger beneath his chin, pushing it higher. Encouragement of sorts. You’re supposed to radiate power, not look like a damsel in distress. You return it with an eye roll, making the corners of Azriel’s lips curve even more. Deny it or not. You do lift your head up. That tingle of fire blazing just a bit brighter. That will do. It would have to be enough to get you through it. 

The music dies, and Eris walks close to the platform edge, that fox-line smile on his face. “It’s an honor to have you all here, so I thank you for finding time to join us," the high lord begins. “I know that the court is facing some challenging times, but you should not be afraid." Azriel crosses his arms over his chest as he listens. “I will do everything that is in my power to protect our people and be a true and fair high lord." Then the Autumn High Lord turns back breathy. “And... I’ll have my family to aid me in these matters," motioning for his two siblings to come to stand closer. “Lucien and Y/n Vanserra will be taking their rightful place on the throne." The crowd explodes with chairs and joyful applause. As the three siblings smile in unison.

“And…”, But there’s no and. Nothing comes after it. As if someone had stolen all of the other promises. Azriel feels it too. It hits his senses. Making them restless. There’s something wrong. Something that doesn’t feel right. A banner behind the platform bursts into flames. The hot tongues, lapping at the family insignia. Some people back up. Eris waves for his guards, ordering them into action. People are bringing buckets full of water while Eris and Lucien try to wield the wildfire. 

It’s the lightest of the sounds that follow next. It flickers, and... "Y/n," Azriel calls, making you snap your head sideways. “Y/n," he breathes out, and then he’s winnowing. His hands already stretched out. He has to make it. He will make it. There is no other option. So Azriel doesn’t let the what-ifs set in. Shrieks echo. Chaos breaks out. And then he’s up there. On the platform. One arm behind your body, the other on the arrow. 

The time stops. Your wide eyes are looking at him. Green so deep that Azriel knows he has never seen anything like it. The freckles seem even darker now that your skin has paled almost to snow white. His fingers are trembling. He can’t see it. Can’t fucking see it; the bunched-up fabric is making it hard to judge. Had the arrow met its target? Your heart seems to beat beneath his palm. But are those the last beats? Then the red fabric turns an even deeper shade of red. 

Every muscle tenses in Azriel’s body. "No," he mutters under his breath. He’s not letting you die just like that. Not on his watch. Not in some pointless death just because someone has a bone to pick with your brother. Your eyelashes flutter, and just for a heartbeat, Azriel is too slow to catch you. Your body sags, but the arrow stays there in Azriel’s head. It didn’t meet its target. Not fully, at least. Just nicked the skin. It feels as if someone rolled a mountain off of his chest. 

"Azriel," it’s so light he almost misses it. The plea. The fear. Your fingers reach up for his leg. His darkness swirls around you both. And quite frankly, the spymaster is not too sure as to what’s going on outside. The world might as well be going to shit for all he cares. Kneeling, Azriel takes hold of your trembling hands, “I’ve got you, darling; I won’t let anything happen to you." He’s not sure if you even hear him. Eyes fixed on something as if you’re looking right past him.“I'm here; I'm with you," Azrie promises, moving to drape your arms over his shoulders. “Are you with me, love?” You’ve gone into shock, that he can tell. Yet you blink. Fingers gripped onto his flying leathers as you nod. "Good," he says, brushing a strand of hair away from your face, “Hold onto me, fireheart”.

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Taglist: @emryb @glitterypirateduck @xxtakeachancexx @justyouraveragekleemain @5onedirection5 @paleidiot

#azriel acotar x reader #azriel acotar imagine #azriel x you #azriel x oc #azriel imagine #azriel x reader #azriel spymaster #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acotar #azriel #acotar imagine #acotar x reader #acotar x oc #acotar x you #eris vanserra x reader #lucien vanserra x reader

[snixx]

how much would you fight for the person you love before giving up on them?

#I've been thinking about this a lot #I think it's why it's so hard to leave a toxic or abusive relationship #because giving up feels so wrong. it's surrendering that you can never make a promise with full certainty #i used to be someone who used to say no deal breakers. nothing. would stop me from loving the people i love #what would it take the person you love more than anything else in the world to do for you to give up on them #i hate that's it's a question I've had to consider after last year #because i like to think im someone who never gives up on people. especially the people i love #except i...had to #especially as someone who cant trust my brain who has experience with it betraying me #because that would mean im capable of doing something that would make everyone i thought id love forever give up on me #if i couldn't be enough. how much ever i tried. or i was too much #because i have depression i could always fall off the wagon and spiral and not be enough #i think for me there isn't one set dealbreaker though #it takes months and months of apathy and cruelty and taking zero accountability #if you stop trying for long enough #if you blame me for everything put in zero effort don't even acknowledge or show a tiny bit of wanting to try #and i know id never do that i know my friends would never #however bad it gets even when we spiral #we can come back and apologize and at least TRY take some accountability #even if it's fucking hard and so much effort #i think that's why heartbreak high hit so much #it's just such a shitty situation and i hate everything it made me question #but well. im glad i have my faith back #there are people who have the capability to try for me people who think I'm worth it #people for whom my love isn't too much who don't make me feel bad for loving too much #and i don't care how many times you guys fuck up as long as i can see you trying i will never leave you #you don't recover from some heartbreaks there are no positives #but well. it happened and im not gonna let it take all of me #x am rambles

[be-good-to-bugs]

i dont even work tomorrow but im filled with dread that i wont be able to just sleep in over and over again the whole next week

#the bin #:( to be honest i think id rather still live with my parents than have to deal with this #maybe its just cause i dont have transportation or live alone #i still dont feel like i have freedom of being an adult. maybe bc the person i live with acts like theyre more of an adult and have more #right over where we live. why do i have to have the smaller room anyway? she cant find any good justification that doenst boil down to #'youre younger than me' which is not a good reason. and i dont even care that much but like. ahe decided that she deserves it more than me #because she wants equal control over the common space too bc she spends more time there #i spend almost all my time in my room. in my opinion i think that means i should get the bigger room but she fully decided thats not at all #an option. she doenst even USE one of her closets or her bathroom. the only good reason she should have it is that it has an aircon #and my room doesnt and she overheats easier but like. thats never the reason she uses. idk. #i really truly wish i wasnt forced to move in with her. we had been planning to move in togeteh but i expected her to treat me like a adult #she just refuses to see me as one. its exhausting especially considering im the one keeping us afloat financially #the reason i had to call put sick this past week is because i was burnt out from faxing her mistakes and trying to keep us from getting #kicked out. idk. im tired of this and im tired of her #and i keep telling her she needs to treat me like an adult and an equal now that things have changed and she refuses to even #acknowledge that she doesnt. she treats me exactly the same as before. idk. sorry i complain so much #i really dont wanna go back to work :(

[gotham-daydreams]

i just had a thought

you know what would really fuck up the batfam in the "not tonight" series imagine the reader instead of leaving gets kidnnaped and when the batfam saves them reader breaks down into crying in relief because they genuenly believed the batfam would not bother to save them

Imagine the absolute horror the batman would feel

I know its a little farfetched but i live for the angst

No, no! I love that idea!!! And it isn't all that farfetched seeing as the reader is a well known musician on some level, and even if that wasn't the case- they're still the kid of Bruce Wayne. Which, honestly, is enough motivation for someone to kidnap them, I'd say. Especially if the reasoning is for money, revenge/jealousy, or both honestly.

Besides all that, though- oh my god that would be awful! I love it!

Because imagine things from the reader's perspective (which, there is implied violence inflicted on the reader, mentions a blood, and a gun is pointed towards them. So, if it isn't your cup of tea then that's fine!):

Your 'family' that barely acknowledges you enough as it is, and the only guy who ever seems to notice that you're around is the single butler that basically takes care of everyone and everything in the manor. Now, you're kidnapped because of your relation/connection to the family, and have no hope to do anything besides just pray.

Maybe you have tried to escape before a few times at this point, but the punishment for such attempts have now gotten to the point where if you try again and fail, you'd surely die. Maybe you've also been trying so hard to escape yourself because you're just that certain and sure that the Batfam won't save you. Since, up until this point, anything dealing with or connecting back to you in some way has been ignored or dismissed one way or another. Why would something like a kidnapping be any different? Especially when they also haven't noticed other events where you have gotten hurt before.

Right from the gate, you're already thinking that the Batfam won't save you. Not that they can't, but just like with everything else- something will come up and steal away their attention, and you'll be left by yourself, and to defend yourself as always. That's what always seems to happen, and so why would now be different? In your mind, it wouldn't. So that's why when your attempts to escape fail, and the punishments not only get worse, but begin to pile up and reach a point where you think you're going to die- the situation quickly becomes much scarier.

You don't hope that Batman will suddenly show up, and instead pray that your best friend will notice your missing somehow. You don't think that Nightwing, Red Robin, Spoiler, or Orphan will suddenly swoop in and save the day, but instead try and hope that your producer/boss notices that you haven't replied to his calls or texts and contacts someone. You don't even consider that Red Hood or Robin will come barreling in and quickly deal with your kidnappers before rescuing you — instead all of your thoughts are filled with silent whispers and desperate pleas that someone- anyone you know will notice that you're gone, or that something is wrong, and will contact somebody. With that 'somebody' being the police or anyone of help, but not the Batfam.

Maybe a small thought does slip by, but you can only internally laugh at yourself because you either think that you've already lost enough blood to actually try and believe that lie, or your just growing that desperate to have a little hope. To have something to cling onto in this moment, that you chose the one thing that you're so convinced will never be given to you. A thought that only further cements itself in your mind the more time passes. With hours turning into days, and days to weeks.

Perhaps that's why you try to escape again. Deciding that you had better odds of succeeding despite your injuries, than the Batfam ever coming to save you. Let alone even thinking about it, or even realizing that you were gone in the first place. Taking that risk of getting caught again, and potentially getting killed this time, because no matter how hopeless or unlikely it seems for you to escape and make it out- those chances will always be higher than any single person from the Batfam showing up, and even attempting to save you. Even on accident, or on a whim- that possibility is so unlikely in your mind, that it's basically nothing more than a made up scenario or daydream to you. It's not an 'if' or 'when', but a flat out 'won't'.

Maybe that's why when you fail you get so scared, but can't help but feel like this was inevitable somehow. Of course, you don't want to die- but you had tried your best. You fought until the very end, and it almost feels a little too fitting that things ended up this way. With your efforts ending in vain, and you having nothing to show for it. With your attempts futile, and almost seeming idiotic from an outsider's point of view, and maybe it was.

You never stood a chance. You were doomed for failure. Not even all the training and experience you had could save you- and only now could you see how truly worthless all your efforts had been. With a gun pointed to your head, and your own blood providing the only warmth you've felt in days.

There's an odd sense of comfort and familiarity in the chill that shoots down your spine, and the cold gaze that one of your kidnappers give you. They're carelessness and disregard for your health reminding you of something, with their rough attacks and harsh punches bringing back times where you really did need the Batfam, only for no one to show up. Your call dying down as fast as it had risen that day, and one you never even bothered to make again.

So maybe that was why you were so surprised when help arrived, and even more so when you saw who exactly it was.

Before you could even fully register anything, you began to cry. A wide smile full of disbelief grows on your face, and more tears begin to fall as the smallest of laughs escape you. 'Unbelievable' is the first word that comes to mind when describing what you felt, and thought when you saw Batman drop down from the ceiling and deal with the guy who was about to kill you, and heard some commotion just down the hall.

At first, your convinced it's all some silly dream, and that maybe during your final moments- your mind decided to give you something nice to send you off. Almost like a warm parting gift to distract you from the hopelessness, and reality of the situation. Though it's only when pain shoots through your entire body when you move a certain way, that the thought of all of this being some made up hallucination or delusion vanishes, and you can't help but cry harder.

You don't know if it's a good or bad thing that after all this time- the one time they actually notice that you're gone, is when you not only get kidnapped, but can't escape by yourself. That the one time they acknowledge you, you're almost dead, bleeding out, and the most messy and vulnerable you've ever been.

Maybe life really did have some grudge against you to go to such lengths to fuck you over, but right now you're too relieved to be saved to care at the moment.

Yet, to say the Batfam feels awful on a totally new level, is an understatement. They understand feeling relieved, but to this extent? It's like you never expected them to come and save you at all... and that little thought seems to be true when one of them tries to help you out, and you're still laughing weakly as you continue to cry. Asking through a broken, wavering voice if all of this is real, and isn't some fucked up hallucination your having to make passing on easier. That they really showed up, and as a last ditch effort to not make your death anymore painful then it has to be- this isn't just some... dream, to make you feel like you were actually cared for in your final moments.

It breaks their hearts, a lot.

Especially when you repeat questions, as if trying to really make sure that they're there, that they're real, and aren't just some figment of your imagination. That they actually came to save you, and weren't off saving Gotham or the world itself instead. Constantly trying to be sure, as if the moment you weren't- then you'd be convinced that you were slowly dying all alone, with no hope of help coming — not even thinking that the Batfam would come — and just have to sit with that fact as you take your final breaths.

The pain you feel is almost equal to their's, and what really worries and scares most of them is how sure and certain you are that they wouldn't show up. That either the thought would never cross their minds, or that something else would come up and they'd leave you for dead, or that they just wouldn't notice that you were kidnapped at all.

Which, said fright and worry is only amplified when you have to keep asking "Are you really here? Are you sure?" And the like, and they have to keep finding ways to prove to you that yes, they are here. They're helping you, and they're not leaving- they actually managed to save you, and that you're going be okay now. That they aren't going away, and are very, very real.

Each little, broken laugh chips away at the pieces of their hearts, and your own disbelief that they can't seem to get rid of no matter what they do or say, is just a punch to the gut. You didn't just think that they wouldn't show up, but were fully convinced that they wouldn't even bother with it. That own realization just... hurts more than anything.

Had they really been that awful to you? Had they really caused you so much pain and hurt that you'd not only think of such a thing, but fully believe it? They didn't remember doing anything in particular that would cause you to think that way... but maybe that wasn't the problem. It wasn't what they did to you, but rather what they didn't do, and that's when the pieces finally begin to click.

Of course some don't want to believe it, similar to how some of them in "Not Here" express a brief moment of denial and disbelief themself, but they don't get to experience such a luxury anymore. Not with you here- bleeding, hurt, and crying from both relief and disbelief, because you couldn't believe that they actually showed up.

Even when they do quickly take you to a hospital and get you treated, that image of you is still ingrained into their minds. They can't forget it- how you looked at them and spoke, and just how you treated the whole situation because of how convinced you were.

From here they'll try to rebuild what they can, and all definitely be 100% more protective then they've ever been. The moment you're able to come home (which, you ARE coming home. No if's or but's. You don't get a chance this time.), they're doing everything in their power to not only 'fix' everything, but make sure that you are safe at all possible moments of the day.

It's safe to say that the whole experience traumatized the whole family to a certain degree. Not only with you being kidnapped- but you trying to escape multiple times and almost dying, because you were so convinced that no one would show up to help. (Which, while it was also because you can genuinely handle yourself and did believe you could escape on your own, the Batfam doesn't entirely believe that (and you almost dying doesn't help with that) so they chalk it up to you being desperate, because you 'knew' that no one was coming to save you. Which also may or may not make certain people worse in the process.) So they're already leaning pretty heavy on the yandere tendencies. Which most likely develop over the time you're in the hospital, and into your first week or so staying in the Manor.

Which does lead us to your little addition:

Which, you are very correct!!!

Our boy Jason, put in very simple terms, doesn't take the situation well. At all.

Seeing you bloodied, bruised, abused, malnourished, and on the brink of death no less- definitely doesn't help with his reaction at all.

Don't get me wrong! All of them react pretty negatively to the situation, and many of them have very strong reactions- Jason in particular just has the worst and strongest one. :]

The moment he sees you, he's immediately reminded of his death. The urge to comfort you is strong, but he just doesn't know what to do- and so he ends up not doing anything until you're in the hospital. Which, leading up to that point, he's checking your pulse as often as he can.

He knows what it's like to be hopeless, and feel that helpless- but to know that you experienced that? To know that you almost died like he did? It ruins him. It fucks him up more than anything else.

From the way you looked at the Batfam- the way you looked at him, and just how utterly relieved you were, despite drowning in your own disbelief- it haunts him. The state they found you in messed him up enough, but all of your questions, and just how you were even trying to reassure yourself that them showing up and saving you was real, fucked him up big time.

Before he knows it, he's hunting down the people who kidnapped you, and wiping out whatever is left of their bloodlines. Not sparing a single person, as they didn't spare you- with their generations leading to your kidnappers being born.

He's making their final moments just as painful as yours would've been. Their agony almost matching his, as he couldn't forget the night they saved you. He refused to. That moment forever engraved into his mind, reminding him of what also was if they were a second too late, and how it made him realize just how much he's fucked up along with everyone else.

While Jason can't exactly just waltz into the Hospital to visit you, since he is still considered dead and everything, he sneaks into your room instead. Trying to give what comfort he can in his own silent, but close way. Holding your hand with a gentleness even foreign to himself, and saying how he's sorry and that he'll make it up to you. Promising every night that he'll make those that made you suffer pay with their lives, and then some. Saying how he won't leave your side ever again, only to be gone by the morning.

He brings what he can as well. Even if it isn't as showy or extravagant as any of the things that Bruce, Damian, Dick and so on are getting you, or as pretty and lively as the flowers that are placed by your bedside. It's just his own little way of trying to make it up to you.

The small, little gifts he gives you are indeed little, and he doesn't give much since he doesn't think that your forgiveness or love can be bought. But he still tries to give something. So he'll give things that can be as little as hair ties or bracelets, to earrings (that totally aren't matching) and a little music box that reminded him of the melodies you've made thus far. It's all just another way of saying that he cares about you, and not only wants to build your relationship but be connected to you somehow.

The earrings, even if you don't wear them but just have them, make him feel closer to you then he can. He hopes that in some little way, that whenever you wind and let that music box play its tune, that you are reminded of him or think of him in some way. That when you wear or even look at the few ties and bracelets he's given you, he comes to mind in some small way, and manages to bring the smallest of smiles on your face.

Jason doesn't yearn to be remembered or seen fondly, but he would like to and deeply appreciate it. Since when he looks at his earnings, he's reminded of you, and the pair he managed to give you. Leaving him unable to fight back the smile that grows on his face.

For the most part, he just generally tries to be more present, hardly leaving you alone unless he has to, and spending every moment he can by your side. Moments that begin to last longer once he finishes his buisness with your kidnappers, and their families. He doesn't push too hard or is super in your face and constantly invading your personal space. He just exists in your presence, and as long as you're around he's got no complaints.

Though he does get extremely protective and possessive. Especially if your sleeping or something, and someone walks in. God have mercy if they need to wake you up, and dare to try without saying anything to Jason first.

Which- all of this boils down to you getting scary dog privileges every night, which turns into an almost 24/7 type of deal when you get discharged from the hospital.

---

Sorry if this is a little all over the place. I wrote it all in one go for the most part and haven't really looked it over, so there's probably some mistakes I didn't catch and missed 😅

Still, I hope that's alright, and as you can see- i really enjoy this idea :]

#talking daydreams #yandere batfam #platonic yandere batfam #gn reader #platonic yandere #yandere dc #yandere batfam x reader #yandere jason todd

[eddies-ashtray]

eddie is practically hanging off of you, his arms wrapped around you from behind, dangling over your shoulders. one of your hands is being held by both of his near the centre of your chest.

it wasn’t a big get-together: just you and eddie, most of the hellfire guys, steve, nancy, and robin. though you’re sure a larger crowd of people wouldn’t have deterred eddie from any PDA when he had alcohol in his system.

though you’re in the middle of a conversation with robin, eddie begins to smack loud, ardent kisses against your cheek until robin feels she has no choice but to cut herself off to acknowledge it.

“-totally disregard the closed sign on the door and bang on it until steve gives in and let’s them in! sometimes they’re just so-okay, i can’t pretend that’s not happening right now, what the hell is he doing?”

eddie didn’t drink like this often; he liked a beer or two, but weed was more his speed. it seemed to slow him down, whereas alcohol tended to speed him up. which, considering eddie’s typical excitable pace, he really didn’t need the alcohol to become more sociable or friendly.

but tonight he’d probably had one too many; having far too much fun challenging steve and gareth to shotgunning contests. you weren’t sure how he kept it down if you’re honest.

you smush your hand over eddie’s face to push him away gently, his nose squishing against your palm. he whines lightly against your hand, disgruntled that you’d interrupted his kisses.

“he’s just-”

eddie redirects his kisses to your hand now.

“-just a bit tipsy, is all.”

robin gives you a pointed look and then casts a glance at eddie who’s now kissing down your shoulder lazily.

robin looks back to you, quipping, “‘a bit’?”

“he gets like this when he’s drunk,” you explain.“touchy.”

when eddie suddenly bites into your shoulder playfully, robin says, “okay, well i’m gonna go get a soda from the kitchen while you deal with that.”

once robin leaves you and eddie in the living room, you question lightly, “eds, what’re you doing?”

eddie smushes his cheek against your shoulder, staring up at your face from a strange angle.

“just love you so much, wanted to”—he hiccups—“to kiss every square inch of you.”

you melt a little at that, though it was extremely sappy and not what you were asking.

“no, i meant-” you turn in his arms and eddie stays attached to you still, his hands coming down instead to rest on your waist. “rest” is a generous word though; really, he was grasping the flesh there like if he didn’t hold on to you tight enough you’d slip away. and if you’re honest, you think he might cry if you pulled away from him.

the second eddie’s glassy eyes are on yours, you continue gently, hoping that he’ll be better focused once you’re face-to-face, “i meant when you bit me, baby.”

“y’smell nice. like sooo nice. just wanted to take a bite,” he explains immediately like it’s simple (and it was to him), and then his eyes go almost comically wide as he asks, “is that okay?”

smiling softly at your completely wasted boyfriend, you brush the hair from his face, tucking curly strands behind his ear. eddie never takes his eyes off of you, staring into your face with so much love and admiration that you almost need to look away for a moment.

“that’s okay,” you reassure, kissing his red-tipped nose. he scrunches it at you in response.

and then, because you think that eddie biting you is probably a good indicator that it’s time to leave the function, you announce, “i think it’s time to go home though.”

eddie’s grip tightens on your waist as he gasps dramatically, goes, “don’t want you to go home yet. please stay longer, wanna be with you longer.”

you think he resembles a sad puppy.

smoothing out the crease between his brows with your thumb, you reassure, “i meant your trailer, puppy.”

he softens considerably at that, and asks quietly, as if in awe, “my trailer is ‘home’ for you?”

eddie is bursting with emotion, feels like sunshine somehow entered his chest to allow flowers to bloom in the spaces between his ribs.

he can only hug you tightly. you don’t tell him that anywhere he is is home to you because you’re sure he’d never let go of you again if you said so. though you’re not sure that would be such a bad thing. you hug him back just as tightly.

-

pt. 1

pt. 3

blurb m.list

#eddie munson #yay more drunk eddie! #eddie munson x gn reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson headcanons

[sammis-svsss-brainrot]

OKAY WAIT I SAW THIS POST AND IT MADE ME THINK OF LIKE-

Shen Yuan transmigrates into Luo Binghe, BUT Luo Binghe's soul doesn't exactly like... Leave?

Like there's that one really popular fic that always comes up on ao3 search results that I haven't gotten around to reading yet where Shen Jiu reloads into Shen Qingqiu's body and he and Shen Yuan have to work at being Shen Qingqiu together BUT LIKE CONSIDER THAT SAME CONCEPT BUT WITH SHEN YUAN LOADED INTO BINGHE'S BODY-

Shen Yuan dies, and wakes up in the world of PIDW, watching the events play out from Luo Binghe's perspective

It's a bit weird to get used to, getting used to watching events play out in this way, but he thinks he's grown so obsessed with PIDW that instead of watching his life play out before his eyes, he's watching Binghe's play out instead

But in true Peerless Cucumber fashion, Shen Yuan cannot stay silent while Binghe endures such abuse, and finds himself cursing out this shitty movie for Binghe to actually do something and fight back

Imagine his surprise when Binghe suddenly stops what he's doing and acknowledges Shen Yuan's comments that have appeared like a voice in his head

Cue mass confusion and panic and eventually Shen Yuan figures out that Binghe can hear him??? Somehow?? Similar to how I imagine Meng Mo will function in the future but Binghe has not yet encountered Meng Mo so he's very shocked and Shen Yuan is also very shocked

Cue Shen Yuan realizing that he's in a very unique position to help make Binghe as OP as possible without any of the trauma because uhh maybe without having a physical body, he doesn't get a System?

Meng Mo eventually appears and Shen Yuan gets a "physical" body in Binghe's dreamscape but by this point Shen Yuan has been doing such a good job of teaching Binghe everything he needs to know about everything, Binghe has already extremely latched onto Shen Yuan (and the shizun obsession begins once more)

Anyways, we basically get Shen Yuan guiding Binghe through the plot of PIDW and reshaping it to his making, much to the chagrin of Shang Qinghua, who very much still has a System and is still stuck trying to move the plot along

Cue shenanigans and things actually relevant to the plot, and maybe a cool mechanic of Binghe being able to pass control over to Shen Yuan at certain points?

And long story short it ends with overpowered Demon Lord Binghe sans the harem of so many women finally finding a way to get Shen Yuan's soul out of his head and into a body of his own

Shen Yuan, being super fucking oblivious assumes that Binghe has not pursued the harem because he didn't want Shen Yuan spying on his papayaing with his many numerous wives and turns to leave Binghe to a life in peace or something only to get wifed to Binghe himself

Bonus sequel fic ideas if getting his own body gives Shen Yuan a system of his own but because he's essentially an OC, his mission requirements are basically to fulfill as many wife plots or something lighthearted and stupid type deal

#svsss #luo binghe #shen yuan #bingqiu #bingyuan #shen qingqiu #fic idea #sammi speaks #fanfic #transmigration #if anyone wants to use this as a concept feel free to go ahead just tag me when you post it

[teapartyprincess4two]

Bad Day- J. Guilbert

pairing: girlfriend!reader x boyfriend!Johnnie

classification: slight angst, fluff

warnings: use of y/n, established relationship, Jake and Tara are dating in this, short

inspiration: request

summary: Johnnie is the moon and you’re the sun, always bright, bubbly and energetic. Nobody believes that someone as positive as you can ever have a bad day, but when you do Johnnie is ready to comfort you through it.

—

Everyone has that one friend who is the personification of sunshine, that one friend that always seems to have a smile on their face and holds a positive attitude no matter what. This said friend is always the shoulder for others to cry on, the helping hand in a time of need, and the person everyone seeked for advice. In your friend group you were that friend. You were loved by everyone and loved everyone. So, it comes as no surprise that your friends have never seen you in a bad mood and have never known you to have a bad day.

But, contrary to popular belief, you are no stranger to a bad day. In fact, you have more bad days than you let on, usually masking your anger or sadness with a smile. Johnnie has always been able to read you though, he knows when you’re actually happy and when you’re putting on a facade, whether it be for your friends or for the cameras.

Today was one of those odd days when everything was just going wrong, you just couldn’t seem to catch a break. First, your alarm didn’t go off, causing you to wake up late. If it wasn’t for how hot it was in your room, you would’ve never woken up. You were sweating so much that you felt gross and sticky, but because you woke up late, you had less time to get ready which meant you didn’t even have time to shower. So, you were forced to rush to your dental appointment looking extremely tired, flustered, and greasy.

Once you finally arrived at the dental office, you tried to calm down, you were trying to have a positive outlook in hopes that your bad luck might turn around. But, while the dentist was doing your routine check-up, he found a total of 3 cavities in your mouth. According to the dentist, the cavities were so bad that if you didn’t get emergency fillings your tooth was sure to rot to the bone. You exhaled deeply, wishing all the negative thoughts away, and proceeding with an unexpected procedure. Then, as if your luck couldn’t get any worse, your insurance didn’t cover the emergency fillings, causing you to pay money out of pocket you hadn’t budgeted for.

On your way home it was just one thing after another. You turned the car on, only for it to be low on gas. ‘Not a big deal,’ you thought, praying that this is where your bad luck ended. While pumping gas, though, you stepped in a big puddle of water that got into your shoes and seeped into your socks. You tried not to let it bother you, especially since you’d be home soon, but you were only human.

After such a bad morning, you decide to buy yourself a treat, opting for McDonalds because it was the closest, cheapest thing around. You pulled up to the drive through, using the cheeriest tone you could muster, only to be slapped in the face by the worst customer service experience ever. Normally you wouldn’t have read too much into the situation, but considering you’ve had a pretty bad day so far, it was all just adding up. After paying for and receiving your food, you realized that half of your order was missing. You hated having to be the annoying customer that storms into the restaurant with a receipt in hand, but after the day you’ve had this was the one thing you couldn’t to let slide.

You walk into the restaurant, one hand cradling the bag of food, the other holding onto the receipt as you waited patiently to be acknowledged by at least one employee. You must’ve waited 15 minutes before someone finally noticed you, giving you the blankest stare as they asked, “Can I help you?” If this would’ve happened on any other day, you would’ve completely understood and sympathized with the employee for disliking their job, but you’re so on edge right now that even this seems like a big deal. “Hi, yes. I’m missing a few item-“ you put on your best customer service voice, but before you can even finish your sentence the employee is cutting you off by talking to someone through their headset, “some lady says she’s missing stuff from her order?”

Great, this was sure to become a bigger deal than it had to be. Someone must’ve told the employee what to say over the headset because she asks, “you have the receipt?” You hold the receipt up, but they don’t let you speak before they’re snatching it away and grabbing your bag too. At this point you’re wondering if the chicken nuggets are worth the trouble, should you just quit while you’re ahead and go home?

In the end you ended up getting your missing items, but you were already so frustrated by that point that it didn’t even matter anymore. The manager ended up getting involved, claiming you received everything in your order. She fought with you, raised her voice and got unreasonably upset while you tried to keep your cool, but one can only take so much. You didn’t want to, but you ended up raising your voice too because she wasn’t listening to reason, she never even checked your bag to see if everything was in there. Overall it was just a terrible situation that drained you both socially and emotionally.

After an encounter like that, most people would feel proud for having stood their ground, but you felt like screaming and crying. You weren’t a confrontational person, in fact you always tried keeping a positive attitude even in stressful situations to avoid situations like this. So now you’re walking out of the restaurant with your head held high as to not show weakness, but your spirit was so low it was practically hitting the floor. As soon as you were in your car and away from judgmental eyes, you were crying. Everything just kept adding up and even though nothing majorly tragic happened to you today, it just became too much to bare.

You’re leaning against the steering wheel, trying to calm down before you start driving home, but all you can think about is the horrible day you’ve had. All you wanted to do was go home and curl up under a blanket, hiding yourself from the world until you were ready to crawl back out. The emotions were so intense that you weren’t even hungry anymore. And to top it off, you were expecting visitors today who were probably already waiting for you at your house. All you could do was hope Johnnie would keep them busy while you dissociated in your room for a while.

You took a deep breath, shutting your eyes tightly and willing the tears away. “It’s gonna be okay,” you whisper, your voice coming out shaky as you try reassuring yourself that this isn’t the end of the world. Finally you pull out of the parking lot, mentally preparing yourself for the rest of the day.

—

Johnnie, Jake, and Tara are all hanging out in your living room. When you arrived home they were watching a scary movie, a common occurrence in your friend group. You all usually chilled at home, opting for cozy nights in over loud, hectic nights out. Johnnie saved a spot for you, complete with your favorite blanket, a bag of popcorn, and a cold drink. You trudged inside, plopping the bag of food on the kitchen counter before making a quick appearance in the living room.

Everyone was excited to see you, they always were, and although you were excited to see them too, you just greeted them quickly before retreating to your room. Usually you’d be extremely bubbly, obnoxiously hugging everyone and immediately cuddling up to Johnnie. So, when you offered everyone a meek wave, Johnnie knew something was wrong.

Johnnie immediately picked up on the way your shoulders slumped and your feet dragged along the floor. He noticed that there was an underlying red tint in your eyes, they were glossed over from the tears you previously shed. Your shoes were wet and muddy, your face was swollen from the dental appointment, and your usual smile was replaced by a small frown. You just looked drained, and that was unusual for someone who was usually bouncing off the walls with energy.

Yours and Johnnie’s personality difference was one of the greatest defining factors in your relationship. Where he was more laid back and mysterious, you were energetic and outgoing. Of course he wasn’t shy, but he was extremely reserved in unfamiliar situations, while you were always ready to dive in head first no matter the scenario.

The movie plays lowly in the background, the soft light from the tv illuminating the dark room just enough for everyone’s faces to be visible. You’ve been home for an hour at this point, but you haven’t come out of your room since. Even Jake and Tara have noticed, all three of them murmuring about what could possibly be wrong. You were the light of the group, if you were sad then everyone was sad. “Do you think she’s sick?” Tara asks, sending Johnnie a worried look.

“I don’t know, probably,” Jake says with a shrug before Johnnie can respond, Jake always did a good job of being acutely unaware of everything.

“I was asking Johnnie,” Tara replies with an eye roll, scoffing before pausing the movie. “She went to the dentist today, maybe she’s just tired,” Johnnie finally says, trying to think of any and every reason you could be sad.

Tara hums in response, satisfied with Johnnie’s answer. It seemed logical enough, most people were usually tired after dental appointments, especially when they had emergency work done. Tara presses play on the movie, leaning into Jake again as she tries getting comfy. Johnnie tries focusing on the movie, watching as the characters on the screen run away from the whatever’s chasing them, but with each scene change his mind goes crazy. What could have you so upset?

He looks over at Jake and Tara, they’re cuddled up under a blanket as they share a bag of popcorn. That’s when Johnnie realizes that not only does he feel like a third wheel, but he should be comforting you instead of sitting here barely paying attention to a movie.

“Let me go check on her,” Johnnie says abruptly, throwing the blanket on his lap to the side and standing from the couch. Jake and Tara watch in confusion as he disappears down the hallway before averting their attention back to the movie.

Even though it’s Johnnie’s room too, he knocks on the door softly before walking in. “Y/n?” his voice is hushed, not wanting to scare or startle you incase you’re asleep. The room is pitch black and quiet, the only light coming from your phone. You’re rolled over on your side, scrolling aimlessly on TikTok in search of something that’ll make you feel better. So far, nothing’s worked.

You hear him but you don’t respond, so he tries again, “Baby?” He slowly walks over to the bed, pulling up the covers and crawling in next to you. Usually you’d melt into his touch, but as he wraps an arm around you, you just continue scrolling on your phone. Johnnie doesn’t take it personally though because he knows that this isn’t how you usually act, “you okay?” He feathers a finger over your face, brushing the stray hair out of the way as he kisses your cheek.

That kiss is enough to bring the emotions flooding back again, causing you to scrunch your face and immediately begin crying. A small, downturned smile forms on Johnnie’s face as he pulls you into him. It’s such a sad sight to see you cry, but he’s happy that you’re comfortable enough to let it all go in front of him. He knows that it takes a lot to make you this upset and he’s ready to listen for as long as you need him to, “wanna talk about it?”

You sniffle, rubbing the tears away aggressively as you mumble, “God, I feel so pathetic right now.” There was nothing pathetic about being sad, everyone has bad days and it’s normal to cry every once in a while, but you couldn’t help but feel silly. “It’s okay to cry,” he murmurs, pressing another kiss to your cheek.

“There’s people with real problems in this world, though… I just feel so stupid for letting today drain me,” you whisper, rolling over so you’re facing Johnnie. He takes in your appearance; your eyes are bloodshot, your cheeks are flushed, and your lips are swollen. Your eyelashes are so wet they’re webbed together, each blink leaving a trail of tears on your cheeks. Johnnie gingerly wipes the tears away, placing a quick kiss on your nose.

“Just tell me about your day, it’ll make you feel better,” he replies, chuckling a little at your attempt to deter your feelings and defer the conversation. You inhale deeply, slowly nodding your head as you prepare to verbally relive the horrible day you had. You retell the day’s events, including every single detail from your trip to the dentist to your encounter with the angry McDonald’s manager. “What a bitch,” Johnnie grumbles, shaking his head.

You immediately feel better, but still not well enough to emerge from your dark cave to hangout with your friends. “Feel better?” Johnnie asks, a genuine smile playing on his face. You smile back for the first time since you woke up today, “a little.”

“Good,” he places a kiss on your lips, allowing your lips to mould together. The impromptu make-out session is sweet and innocent, serving as a reminder that Johnnie is always here to comfort you through the hard times and that you’re allowed to have a bad day or two.

“Can we just stay here for a little bit?” you ask, cuddling into Johnnie’s chest and letting his heartbeat begin to lull you to sleep. He hums in response, pulling you in closer and pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

You fall asleep, feeling like the bad day you had no longer mattered.

—

MASTERLIST

a/n:

hope this comforting, fluffy Johnnie fic warms everyone’s hearts

-L.A.M.B👼🏻💗

—

taglist: @nicksmainbitch @sturniololovers @mayhem-72 @worldlxvlys @gnxosblog @meg-sturniolo @creamoncreamoncream2

note: if you want to be tagged in my fanfic related posts, you can access my TAGLIST and comment 🎀✨

#teapartyanonreqs✨💗 #johnnie guilbert x you #johnnie guilbert <3 #johnnie guilbert x y/n #johnnie guilbert x reader #johnnie guilbert fanfic #johnnie guilbert #johnnie guilbert fluff #johnnie guilbert headcannons #johnnie guilbert smut #jake and johnnie #Johnnie one shot #Johnnie guilbert oneshot #Johnnie guilbert angst

[osachiyo]

𝕱𝖆𝖎𝖙 𝖆𝖛𝖊𝖈 𝖆𝖒𝖔𝖚𝖗 · dazai, chuuya & fyodor .ೃ࿐

· 𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰 𐙚 none, gn reader, sfw content, fluff, petnames, headcanons + little scenarios, not proofread

· 𝔫𝔬𝔱𝔢𝔰 𐙚 sorry these are really short, im just trying to clear out as many requests as i can for now :') i was gonna add sigma n fukuzawa too but i wanted to get it out asap so i can work on my other wips. also ! i might focus a little more on fluff for the time being :) happy reading and hope you guys enjoyed !

𝖘𝖞𝖕𝖓𝖔𝖘𝖎𝖘... just some cute scenarios with some of the bsd men ᡣ𐭩

dazai.. was an interesting man. he never got flustered no matter how much you flirted with him, not even blushing when you did provocative actions like sitting on his lap, or whispering dirty words into his ear.

instead, he somehow counters your lines with his own — leaving you the one flustered.

but when you give him genuine compliments, or do something nice for him genuinely from the goodness of your heart, the same man who's seemingly unaffected by your advances, somehow turns into putty — melting in the clutch of your warm grasp.

in the quiet sanctuary of your shared bedroom, you hummed sweet words against dazai's dark locks, your lips finding solace on the crown of his head. "you're so pretty," you whispered, a genuine compliment that seemed to momentarily lift the weight of his rough day.

"darling, not as pretty as you," he chuckled, his voice muffled as he buried his face in your chest. the day had taken its toll on him, a tough mission leaving him with more than a fair share of injuries. but those details could wait for another time.

for dazai, these moments were treasures. lying in your arms or having you nestled in his, the simple pleasure of each other's company became a haven. the absence of distractions allowed him to savor the rare peace he found with you, a feeling that almost made him giddy.

your words, genuine and warm, were like a balm for his weary soul. in these moments, he set aside his usual snarky quips and jokes, content to bask in the embrace and scent that spoke of comfort and home. the sincerity in your praise quickened his heartbeat, and for once, dazai didn't need to hide behind humor.

though his face was hidden from your view, dazai couldn't conceal the flush of pink spreading across his cheeks. it was a secret shared only with the solitude of your embrace — a silent acknowledgment of the vulnerability and affection that blossomed in these stolen moments of peace.

considering chuuya's job, you two don't get to spend too much time together. but you had already known and accepted that when you started dating him.

though, when you two do get to spend some quality time together — it's all worth it. he makes sure to spoil you with his affection and attention when he has the chance — making up for all the time he's neglected you.

and after a whole day of getting spoiled by him — visiting fancy and expensive places, tasting amazing food, drinking the finest wine, you finally get to relax at home with your favorite person.

"quit scrunching that handsome face, babe," you sighed, smoothing the furrowed lines of his brows with your thumbs, delicately working the cleanser into his skin. chuuya simply hummed, surrendering to the soothing sensation and leaning into your touch.

"and what's the deal with this?" he asked, his arms enveloping your waist — right where they belonged. "it's just cleanser, does what it says — cleans your skin." chuuya hummed again, drawing small circles on your hips, "just make sure it stays out of my eyes, okay?" you rolled your eyes, adjusting yourself on his lap for better comfort, "obviously."

after rinsing off the cleanser and following through with the skincare routine you'd picked, chuuya stared at his reflection in the mirror — bunny headband adorning his head, bangs swept back and away from his face, which now felt surprisingly soft. "holy shit, my face feels so...smooth?" he blinked, gently squishing his own cheeks. you approached from behind, planting a tender kiss on his neck — "i did tell you my skincare routine works wonders."

"heh, yeah," he chuckled, turning to face you, playfully squishing your cheeks together before planting a soft kiss on your lips, "now it's your turn, love. your skin deserves some of that magic too."

fyodor was a busy man, you always catch him in that dimly lit room — typing away while staring at his monitors. with all the plotting, scheming and hacking — he never really has any time left to take real care of himself.

and that's exactly what you're here for — dragging him out of the dingy room, not paying any attention to his complaints or threats, you know he doesn't mean them.

taking off his ushanka, you wonder how much time had it actually been since he's properly washed his hair — but you didn't ask him that, knowing he'd be even more irritated.

fyodor's complaints ceased once you proposed a shared bath, both of you disrobing before slipping into the warm water. the temperature, meticulously adjusted to his liking, showcased your thoughtful consideration. though the usual positions were reversed, with him against your chest, it was necessary for you to tend to his hair.

"right there, love," fedya sighed in content, tilting his head back and savoring your touch. your fingers massaged the shampoo into his hair, focusing on his scalp. "feel good, huh?" you smiled, placing sweet kisses on the pale skin of his exposed neck before gently rinsing away the shampoo from his raven locks.

these tranquil moments held a special place in his heart. simple yet profound, they kindled a warmth within him. your loving gaze had the power to thaw even his typically cold heart. in those tender glances, he found a promise to himself — to craft the perfect world for both of you.

©sachiyoh— do not copy, plagiarize and repost my works to any platform, reblogs are very appreciated♡

tags ・ @hopefulpain @inkmooon @constant-existential-terror @nda-approval @mellieellie @seiiushi @lynxxyyy @kentopedia

@sorasushik1 @himebwrries @nopethenope @neviex @fyodorisbbg @stygianoir @saharei @x-lunawrites-x @munnaitorei @emyyy007 @dearhoney-31 @the-foreigner @angoisfine @osaemu @honeycombflowers-blog @yuiiasathesilly @kaithegremlin @squigglewigglewoo @cupidszvlvr @ashthemadwriter-archived @bloobewy @mrs-bakugou @hauntedsol @ask-me-or-not @hanakotateyama @kissesmellow21 @dazaichuuya69 @xxsilverjackalxx @gettinshiggywithit @deaths-presence @sugaredpersimmon @rjssierjrie @iheartpieck @angelof-darkness @dazaisimpletmereadfanficspls @hellokitty-4-lele @scinclaitnoir @aly-insanity @kemis-world @bisexuawolfsalt @thateldribitch

#౨ৎ — archive・ #bungo stray dogs #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungo stray dogs x reader fluff #bungo stray dogs fluff #bsd #bsd x reader #bsd fluff #bsd x reader fluff #dazai x reader #dazai x reader fluff #dazai fluff #chuuya x reader #chuuya fluff #chuuya x reader fluff #fyodor x reader #fyodor fluff #fyodor x reader fluff #bungou stray dogs #bsd headcannons #bungo stray dogs headcanons

[yuri-is-online]

The Tower Stairs: Rollo Flamme

"Forget about school while you're here and enjoy a moment of respite in Fleur City." The words should not be bouncing around in your brain like a screensaver, hitting on the edges left by overblot after overblot. You wish Vil was here to remind you that not everyone who hurt you had been so callous in the aftermath.

But he's not. The only one here who is willing to point out the wrongs is Rollo. Are you wrong for being tempted to let him take advantage of that?

notes: This is fucking 10,225 words and only lightly proofread, sorry. they/them used for Yuu, SPOILERS FOR ALL OF GLORIOUS MASQUERADE, light references to events surrounding overblots, non-consensual drugging and possible Stockholm syndrome, Yuu feels isolated and Rollo has an idea just hear him out. Lots of toxicity all around please be advised This is technically part of a series, the first part features Azul. If you like those consider checking out my masterlist.

Two sentences.

Two students will be sent as attendants to the invited mages.  One monster and one magicless human, approximate measurements attached per your request.

Two sentences barely acknowledging your existence and that was it; the foolish mage in charge of Night Raven hadn't even thought to include a name or photograph (the monster got the same treatment but he could not really bring himself to care as much about that) and he hadn't even made notes about food preferences or allergies.  The attached note was a post-it scrawled in the most haphazard and uncaring handwriting that he needs to take a brief moment to breathe, turning away from his desk to throw another log on the fire and breath in the soothing scent of the smoke.  He doesn't even know what their favorite color is, those poor fools will have to make a guess while they obsess over what costume to throw at them. 

Costume.  His eyebrows twitch as he brings the handkerchief to his nose, the smoke no longer enough to distract from his disgust.  Breathe in, the gentle aroma of rosemary and lavender brings clarity though solace remains tentatively hanging in the bell tower along with all of his hopes, breathe out.  He dares not risk ruining the foolish surprise by asking, but he makes sure to take a nice sheet of paper and properly write out the notes on their measurements neatly, tacking it to the top of the stack where it belongs.  This festival was always meant to be for the virtuous, and while he may not know them, what he has seen of the others guarantee them to be the best of the lot.  The bell dutifully rings out the evening toll and Rollo takes one last look at those two sentences.  He pities you; that's the explanation he reaches for the pain searing in his chest.

~~~~

Halloween feels more like Christmas with how big of a deal all your friends are making of it, and you really lack the words to explain how strange that makes you feel.  It's not a bad sort of strange you suppose as you twirl a little of the thickly embroidered fabric in between your fingers.  Festivities bring good food, an excuse to avoid classwork, and a way to guise showing affection under holiday obligation; it's just a bit odd to see it cloaked in orange, blacks, and pumpkin carvings and not pine needles and nutmeg.  But all of these thoughts are irrelevant, meant to try and distract you from the waiting crowd outside and the social you've been pawned off on.  You take a deep breath, trying to focus on how excited Grim sounds and how cute you know he will look to avoid the terror of being seen.

"Forget about school while you're here and enjoy a moment of respite in Fleur City."

Your eyes meet Rollo’s before you shamefully turn to your friends, disappointment flashing through you with just how impassive his gaze remains despite the beauty of the costume.  It’s just a stupid “crush” on a guy who if you in your right mind you would insist looked ugly.  A real choice example of “guy you didn’t know magic could invent,” 18 going on 80, someone who if you had admitted out loud to wanting to get to know better as a friend you would be judged heavily for.  And if you are being honest with yourself it isn’t even really a crush, it’s just your stupid brain firing off a bunch of dopamine at someone offering you a genuine break and some sympathy for the troubles he assumed you’d been through.  Vil remembered.  The tiny, tired voice of reason tried to do its job at the back of your skull.  It is probably very dark and lonely back there.  Maybe guys from the Shaftlands are just built different.  Even it was overworked and making concessions.

“It looks like you are wearing matching outfits.”  Deuce’s kind smile brings you out of your head and back to reality.  

“You look like you’re matching with Riddle!”  You say and smile wide when both Deuce and Riddle puff up in pride.

“We both look like proper card soldiers,” Riddle actually bows to the Vice-President, who looks really happy to receive the praise “you must have really put a lot of thought into these.”  

“Glad you noticed!”  You see Rollo pull out that strange handkerchief and inhale as his Vice-President happily chirps away.  “Since your Headmage noted your dormitories we tried to include inspiration from the Great Seven in the costume themes!  The costumes are supposed to respect tradition, and your school has some too, we figured ‘why not combine them?’”  

“Where’d mine come from then?”  Grim doesn’t seem too fussed even though he asks, he must  really like his outfit.  “Yuu and I are the only ones who care about our dorm.”

“Yes the… note provided for you was most inadequate.”  Rollo is technically addressing the crowd, but his gaze remains firmly on you.  His eyes are beautiful, green and blue swirling in what you delusionally swear is a gentle dark gray frame that will dull and snap back to firm disinterest once he returns to your seniors.  “As such I suggested the capes but these two came up with the rest.”

“We went with purple and black since those are both NRC and NBC colors.”  The VP gives you what should be a confident thumbs up that you barely pay attention to, still caught up in the intensity of Rollo’s gaze.  

“Thank you.”  You barely manage to break away from it and miss the way Rollo seems to somehow stand taller, even if he does not say-

“You’re welcome!” The vice-president and aide continue to glow with everyone’s praise.  “We really hoped you would like them.”  

You can barely hear their words over your focus on him.  If he feels the weight of your gaze he doesn't flinch, nor does he acknowledge it, leaving Trein’s voice to cut through your stupor, startling you with an expectation of disappointment or trouble.  But it isn’t there, he simply seems concerned, and thankfully not with you.  You cannot say the same of your classmates, but then again you had also forgotten the headache you got listening to them argue over their fieldwork group names.  Seriously, how old were Azul and Idia again?  And you aren’t going to think about Malleus right now, the ibuprofen Trey had helped you pack was with your luggage not the pockets of your costume. 

“What will Yuu be doing?”  Rollo is as impassive as ever, but he once again looks at you as he asks, as if he expects you to be a part of the conversation.  How cute.

“Yuu and Grim will be with me.”  Trein turns to scold your friends and though you expect Rollo to follow, or maybe excuse himself to his duties he does not.

“Are you alright with this arrangement?”  He asks.

“Oh we discussed it before we got here.”  You rush to pacify, which startles Rollo more than soothes him.  “As long as Grim gets to eat a bunch of stuff we’ll be fine.”  If anything it will probably keep him distracted from causing trouble to keep bouncing back and forth between the groups, but you don’t say that outloud. 

“Yeah!”  Grim cheers, excited by the mention of his name if nothing else.  “This place has got all sorts of great food right?! Riddle was tellin me all about it.” Rollo seems displeased, the handkerchief comes out from his pocket but he doesn’t hold it up to his face yet, choosing instead to focus on your eyes.

“I wasn’t asking about Grim.”  Your little friend begins to make noises of protest, but they quiet as he looks back and forth between you both.  But if Rollo has more to say he is forced to keep it to himself.

“Human!”  Sebek’s shout demands your attention and you see Rollo finally lift his arm to take the deepest breath yet into his handkerchief.  “You had better not plan on keeping Lord Malleus waiting!  Have you already forgotten he specifically requested you accompany his group?!?!”  You haven’t, but you know Sebek won’t hear that.  

“Sorry, duty calls!” You give your best elegant bow and are rewarded with a genuine smile.

“Yes, for both of us.”  He watches, with a strange look in his eyes as you flicker out of his view like a wisp of smoke.

~~~~ “I was worried when Sebek started arguing and insisting that he join Malleus’s group… But honestly, I’m glad he has a proper guard.”  Jamil does seem significantly less stressed than he usually does, which in turn relaxes you.

“Of course, Malleus’s safety will always be my first priority!”  Sebek is all smiles and pride as the conversation continues towards what direction to start your tour, you find your mind wanting to join in the conversation but finding yourself unable to really contribute.  Grim is similarly distressed.

“I thought this was Group 1,” he wisely chooses to whine to you and not Trien, “not Group BORING.”

“We’ve got to respect their wishes.”  You say, wishing only slightly he wasn’t wearing such a dapper hat.  You miss scratching his ears.  “Besides, historic spots make for great tourist destinations.  You are worried you won’t get any food, right?  I won’t let that happen.”

“Most of the places I know of aren’t on tourist maps.”  Trien corrects gently, but his small smile lets you know he does not mean to come off as reprimanding.  “But Yuu is correct, Grim, there will be plenty of places to feed you as we check on the other groups.”

“Well then what are we waitin’ around for!  Let’s get cracking!”  Grim’s little shout and face is so deathly serious you can’t help but snap a brief picture on your phone, as you walk slowly between Riddle and Jamil.

“So,”  a relaxed Jamil might be a rare sight, but this teasing look is not “what did President Rollo want to talk to our little attendant about?”

“I was wondering that as well.”  Riddle asks much more earnestly, which gets the squirming reaction from you Jamil had been trying to provoke.  “He wasn’t being rude was he?  An insult to one NRC student is a slight to our whole school.”

“Oh I’m sure he was very personal.”  Laughs Jamil and you try to pass off your embarrassment with a cough.

“He just wanted to know what group Grim and I were going with.”  It has got to be enough of the truth to get Jamil to drop it, but as you turn yourself back towards Trien you are surprised to find him smirking.

“Yes, Mr. Flamm was very concerned with knowing your whereabouts.”  He has the decency to shoot Jamil a stern glance when he cackles, but the teasing point has still been made.  You have been seen (for once, the tiny voice argues, when there is something to use against you.)  Thankfully Malleus and Riddle still seem blissfully unaware of what is being implied, if anything Malleus seems deeply pleased at the mention of Rollo.

“I’m glad he was willing to invite us both.”  It is hard to ignore the puff to his chest that comes with the word invitation, your tired inner voice retreats replaced with a genuine smile.

“Me too, Tsunotarou.  It’s nice to be able to take a vacation.”  You should be concerned that Trien has led you into what appears to be a sewer alley, but the soothing melody of the river to your left drowns out all worries and Sebek’s misery at being the sole mage to have done zero research.  Well maybe not the sole mage, just the only one without a collar.

“Hey Yuu,” Grim whispers, “did ya think at all about what Rollo said earlier?”

“About relaxing?”  Please, don’t let Grim get in on teasing you too.  You don’t want to live in a world where he is more socially conscious than Riddle.

“No!  Well kinda.  I mean about what ya wanted to do.”  Grim does occasionally have serious thoughts.  “N-not that I really care or anythin, just y’know.”  Not that he ever outright admits to thinking them.  This one has him so embarrassed he starts yelling at Sebek to give up on thinking before he can hear your answer, giving you time to actually think on one.

It is a relatively easy answer, the same you always have whenever you get the opportunity to leave campus.  You want to look for a way home, but how exactly do you go about doing that?  Maybe Rollo would know this water sort of reminds you of his eyes, tired, he looks so tired but when he was able to talk to you he seemed to relax and now you hate yourself even more than you had earlier.  You force yourself to stand up at a normal pace and rejoin the conversation, as if the painful spike of emotion that a new crush brings isn’t actively wrecking your heartbeat.

~~~~

Yuu.  The name of the student attendant is Yuu, Rollo was already making amendments to the lines as soon as he confirmed that, but your conversation began to muddle his own corrections with unnecessary feeling.  He doesn’t understand it, the strange pull he is feeling towards you; Rollo assumed at first was fanned by his hatred of those awful mages, the inherent desire to soothe you all feels justified but no… he knows that feeling, or at least he thinks he does.  He feels it every time he sees a magicless citizen of his city think about just how much better their life could be, but that emotion has grown dull, this desire burns him.  Even now as he tries desperately with fragrant herbs and the gentle lull of the river the intoxicating glow of relief in their eyes blazes in his soul.

"Forget about school while you're here and enjoy a moment of respite in Fleur City."

It was generic, there was so much more he should have said.  But what could he offer you?  You're not a mage, you have every right to be wary of him.  To refuse his help would be understandable.

“And I hope the rest of you will enjoy the social.”

The thought of the social finally succeeds in sobering him, he runs though his plans once more in his head as he sees the outline of one of those detestable NRC clowns looking over the various bakeries, clearly inept at choosing where to go.  And once again those thoughts flicker briefly back to you, not that Rollo trusts mages to do anything other than pursue their own interests, but he had hoped somewhat foolishly when he had read the word “attendant” that some care would be taken for your preferences and safety.  But clearly he was mistaken, and how he loathes the thought of his plans being anything less than perfect.  The handkerchief goes back into his pocket and his hand brushes up against a tiny bottle.  Dreamer’s Rest such a mundane name for a poison.  It is, no it was meant to be a precaution, but now, as he idly holds the crystal bottle up to the sunlight, a new thought takes shape in his mind.  It is magic, something he despises and believes should not exist, but if he could convince you to drink it… 

Quickly he shoves the thought and the bottle back into his robes, forcing himself towards Ashengrotto’s group hoping the new temptations will disappear.

They do not, as amusing the thought of them purchasing souvenirs is. 

“What’s so surprising about that?”  The look on Azul’s face as he speaks does suggest offense, but that he has cause to be at all sharpens Rollo’s resolve.  “That’s generally what you do with gifts, yes.  What do you two take me for?”  Exactly what he wants them too, Rollo supposes seeing how quickly Deuce and Epel jump to praise him and completely miss Azul’s muttered expectation of compensation.  The three continue to speak of utterly irrelevant topics.

“Certainly.”  He folds his hands and takes the first opportunity to excuse himself.  Azul is a merchant and these two are dumb as rocks, he has nothing to worry about here.  “I’ll take my leave then-”

“Oh before you go!”  Deuce has an infuriatingly cheerful smile on his face for someone who has just interrupted him. “I wanted to thank you.  For including Yuu I mean.”  Azul pushes his glasses up onto his face, curious, it would appear his reactions are being watched, but that this sentiment from Deuce is not unexpected.  “I was really worried you Nobel Bell guys would see them as an inconvenience or a burden since it’s supposed to be a mage’s social and all and they aren’t a mage, you have no idea how relieved I was you had costumes for them and Grim.  I was really happy they got to come!”  

“Yeah!”  Epel’s smile could be described as cute if he wasn’t such a talented mage.  “We’re going to have so much fun at the social together, I can’t wait.”

“Of course.”  Rollo smiles in spite of himself, if he was less focused on making his exit he would have realized he had been since the first mention of Yuu’s name.  “I will continue to ensure they… are allowed to relax while here.” How disappointing, Rollo thinks, that these mages see inclusion of their supposed friend to be a point in his favor.  It’s almost enough to make him laugh, but then he swears he sees your face before him, eyes agleam with wonder and suddenly words lose all meaning.  The handkerchief comes out as he makes his way back to his tasks, the sooner they are done the more of an excuse he can make to see you again.  “Now if you all will excuse me, I have to get back to checking on the other groups.”  It wouldn't do to keep his flowers waiting after all.

Azul frowns deeply for just one moment.  “Are you sure you should be thanking him?”  His face returns to stoic calculation, but he still asks.

“Why?”  Deuce is so genuinely confused it really does make Azul hurt for Riddle.

“... no reason.”  Yet anyway.”  

~~~~

For a creature so gluttonous Grim sure does love to play with his food, it would be cute to watch him catch grapes in his mouth if you weren’t walking through such a busy intersection looking for Azul’s group.  “You need to be more careful.”  You fuss, taking advantage of Trien’s pause to check his maps to gently poke Grim’s nose.  He sneezes.

“Ya don’t have ta worry so much,” he huffs as if he isn’t pleased with the attention “the Great Grim isn’t able to choke.”  

“Heh your friend doesn’t seem to think so.”  Rollo’s laugh is as smug as it is startling, you swear you jump halfway out of your skin.  He moves to follow you, a noise of startled surprise sending pinpricks up your arms in delight.

“Rollo!  Sorry I didn’t see you.”  Great now he has to think you’re stupid, of course you didn’t see him Yuu!  He clearly just got here!  “Is everything ok?  No one causing you any trouble?”  You have to bite your tongue not to add from my school because who else would be doing that.  

“Nothing’s happened you need to worry over.”  Rollo folds his hands, those water grey eyes ripple with emotion reminding you of your reflections at the riverside earlier. " I simply saw you and decided to come over and see how your tour was progressing so far.”

“It’s goin great!”  Grim hugs his bunch of grapes close to his chest.  “Yuu’s been gettin me all sorts of yummy grub.”

“... it is heartwarming to see how caring Yuu is towards you.”  His smile suggests genuine amusement, and your heart warms with pride.  “But I am curious, have you gotten to do everything you wanted to?  Is there still something you wish to see?”  Rollo says it so passively, as if it wasn't a natural question to ask.  It is, you suppose, a natural question if 

“I’m sorry?”  Rollo’s eyes haven’t once left yours, there is no mistaking he intended to speak directly to you and yet… 

“This is an experience for you too, yes?”  Rollo looks sad you think, but you try to remind your rapidly increasing heart rate that you have only just met so you have no idea if that is true.  “I have some time before I am needed, if your Professor allows it-”

“Of course I will.”  Trien’s voice causes you both to jump, free from whatever strange aura you constantly find in each other’s presence.  There is a strange glint in his eyes, almost nostalgic as he takes Grim from your arms and nods towards Rollo.  “There are a few places I can think of that might be of interest to Yuu specifically, but I’m sure you will be much more up to date with what’s practical.”  You expect him to wait, to confirm just where it is Rollo wants to take you off to but no.  If anything he practically skips away from you with pep that you swear should strain his back.

“I’m so sorry he just left like that.”  You say quietly, and to your surprise Rollo laughs.  The stern look that had been so fixed into your mind since this morning is kinder now, he actually looks like a young man now, the aura of nobility around him seeming to come more from some hidden self confidence you suppose all mages have tucked somewhere.

“There’s no need, I’m sure it would have been much more embarrassing if he stayed.”  Rollo says it so matter of factly you almost believe him.  “So just what was it you wanted to see?”

“Is there a place where-” you eagerly start before flustering with the weight of trying to explain what exactly it is you are looking for.  “Why” will be even harder, emotionally if nothing else.  “Is there any place I could do some research I guess?  Like on really obscure myths and history.”  It was clearly not the question Rollo was expecting, but he does have an answer ready.  

“There is a book store I am fond of across from the main school building, assuming you don’t mind walking back that way?”  

“Not at all.”  You remain trapped in your strange silence, though Rollo does not quite seem to mind.  He easily begins to guide you back towards the school, the tension you had previously associated with him never once returning to his face.

“Do you enjoy reading about mythology?”  He asks as soon as the crowd thins a little.

“Yes.”  Your answer is quieter than he’d like, as if you are questioning the sincerity of your own interests.  “You can tell a lot about what people value by looking at the stories they tell and besides… I just like stories.”  

“What sort?”  The question isn’t sharp, so you silently curse yourself for jumping.  “I apologize if I am coming off as needling you, that wasn't my intention.  As the president of a magic school’s student council I seldom get a chance to speak with… the more sincere members of society.  I am curious about your perspective, you could say I find it important.”

“Why?”  You don’t mean to scoff, but Rollo doesn’t seem phased.  If anything he seems oddly pleased.

“Do you think yourself unimportant?”  The stern look he gives is far less severe than what had been aimed at your classmates, but is still disarming.  “I meant what I said before.  I understand if you find it tiring to be around me as well, but I promise you need only to speak if I am exhausting you.”

“No!”  His pleased smile grows as you try desperately to center your thoughts.  “You haven’t been exhausting me at all, I just- wasn’t expecting the question.”  Rollo’s contented laugh sears you right to your soul, so beautiful and strong and so clearly meant only for you to hear.  You are spared further embarrassing thoughts as you finally reach your destination and he reaches for the shop’s door.

“After you, Yuu.”  Bless the shop bell for ringing you back to reality, and the smell of old books finally luring you away from Rollo’s grasp.

~~~~

There is a peaceful, eager joy about your expression that Rollo tries desperately to write into his memory.  This is how you should look all the time, unburdened by the weariness existing next to magic and mages that undoubtedly piles on you.  His relief flickers slightly as he wonders, unpleasantly, just what it is you think of him and his faults.  Is he truly responsible for your joy now?  And if he is… just what does he need to do to keep it?  He is suddenly heavily aware of the bottle in his pocket, and Grim’s words from earlier begin to suggest an ill formed plan that drives him to speak.

“Have you had anything to eat yet?” he whispers in spite of himself, but you do not seem displeased with his interruption. 

“Idia bought me some grape juice, but other than that not really.”  And yet you have been feeding your companion like some sort of saint.  

“There’s a small cafe attached to this store…”  There is no going back if he says this, there are a million things that should be at the front of his mind but the only thing he can bring himself to worry over is what you will think of him once it is done.  “Would you like something from it?”  You pause scanning the book you are holding and reach towards your pocket, but he catches your hand as gently as he can before pulling back worried he has overstepped.  “I’ll pay for it, please don’t worry yourself.” 

“I can’t ask you to do that!”  So you squeak but your stomach seems to disagree with the strange noise it makes.

“Then don’t.”  He cannot help but smile as he says it.  Cute.  He thinks that is the word he wants to use.  You have his entire attention.  “Just tell me what you would like.”  He half expects you to continue denying yourself, but no.  You murmur a bashful request, and he promises to meet you at the front of the store once he has gotten you something.  He almost believes in his own good intentions until his hand touches the bottle in his pocket as he tries to think.  This… impulse is not his fault.  You will be in danger if he does not act, he needs to find a way to keep you safe from the downfall of those mages who surround you.

There is a selection of fruit and cheese that catches his eye, there is a small dish of honey meant to be paired with some apples.  Dreamer’s Rest has no taste, just one bite from any of these would grant you the relaxation you deserved.  This is a conscious decision he is making, if he commits there will be no way to take it back.  He can beg you to see his reason, but would you listen?  It’s insidious how little visible effect magic leaves on something, nothing looks different or dangerous, the food he is holding just looks like food.

“Have you ever heard of someone traveling between worlds before?”  Rollo should be concerned with how tuned in to your voice he is, how quickly he completes his task and takes himself, with noticeably lighter pockets, back to the front of the store and the tables set next to the front counter.

“Are you sure you don’t mean continents?”  The shopkeep seems confused, but Yuu seems strangely determined.  Desperate even.

“No, worlds.  Like different realities or dimensions.”  You try again.  “Maybe something about liminal spaces?”  That just makes them laugh.

“Oh no, if you’re interested in those sorts of things you’ll need to look at the science fiction section!  Magical travel between different ‘worlds’ is so utterly preposterous, I’m sure Monsieur Rollo will be able to explain to you why.”  You look devastated, as if what has been said is a personal slight.  He lacks the ability to describe just what it is he is feeling now, there is a wariness to how he looks over you he doesn’t like.  There is no reason to doubt your virtue, you have no magic.  So why then,would you be so interested in what would undoubtedly be such a career defining feat for any mage, why act distraught as if you are so intimately acquainted with the subject?  You cannot look at him as he gently guides you to the table, can’t speak even.  It is as if the dismissal has robbed you of your appetite.

“Technically speaking if we had proof another reality existed,” he takes care to breathe in the comforting scents of his kerchief, watching you for any sign of motive “it would not be a matter of science fiction.  As we lack that, however, most statistical models make such a thing out to be quite impossible.  Teleportation magics such as the Dark Mirror at Night Raven possess are already quite rare and subject to stringent regulation, it stands to reason the ability to travel across reality would be much more rare.”

“I see.”  You are quiet, yet unflinching under his scrutiny in a way that makes him want to scream.  There is no reason for you to be so resigned to him, it should be the other way around.  He should be afraid of your judgment, your wrath, not your rejection as you pick idly at the fruits.  “You must think I’m very silly.”  You whisper.

“I think you are not telling me something.”  He whispers as well, trying to sound sincere and sympathetic.  “That your friends and teachers did not tell me something.”  His body moves of its own accord, he stands and places his hands on your shoulders in what he hopes is a gentle manner; you look up to him with a strangely hopeful expression.  It is as if you see him as some source of light, unaware of its hellish source.  “My judgment is fair, so please, unburden yourself while you are here.”  While you can be safe in his arms.

“If I said,” your voice quivers “if I said I did have proof of a different reality.  One where magic didn’t exist.”  He inhales sharply, a new scent worming itself among his affirmations alongside the resurgence of the pain from when he first read those two accursed lines.  “If I was somehow taken from such a place, and wanted to find a way back, would you believe me?”

“Yes.”  There is disbelief in your eyes, but really how could he reach any other explanation for this grip you have on his soul?  The reasoning, as implausible as other scholars would decry it, made a degree of sense.  Why else would such a wretched institution like Night Raven allow for someone so pure to exist in their presence, to say nothing of being allowed to attend as a student?  The best solution, no matter how improbable, is the simplest one, and what a beautiful solution this admission is.

“I don’t know how I got here really, I just sort of showed up at orientation and the headmage hasn’t done mu- I mean he hasn’t really found any promising leads about how to send me back.  That was his excuse for sending me to the social.  He thought that since maybe your academy is also really old and has so many traditions that maybe one of you would know how to send me home.”  Slowly, so slowly it almost burns, Rollo moves his right hand from your arm to fetch something from his pocket.  The large ruby of his ring reflects the dull light of the lamps as he runs just the edge of his handkerchief under your eye, letting his thumb massage the tear towards it.  The comforting blend of rosemary and lavender that invades your senses explains why he keeps it so close to his nose, but those are not the scents that soothe you.  There is an undercurrent, brought by his sleeves and the way his eyes follow the curve of your cheek and stay unintentionally on your lips, of wood smoke and ink that can’t come from anyone but him, who in their right mind would burn something in a bookstore?

“You can speak poorly of him here.”  There is an undercurrent of authority to his voice that should scare you.  Rollo has always looked directly at you, that dark gray blue inviting you to bathe in his light has never once thought of you as the other.  Perhaps because he is too busy looking at your classmates like they are lesser, a thought that you should perhaps pay more mind. “No one is going to carry what you say back to them, I promise.  You poor thing…”  It is all you can do to not collapse into his arms and cry.  It should be condescending, this way he is looking at you.  “It’s cruel to keep you like this.”  Who he is speaking to you don’t know, there is an unspoken aura over you both, an aura of agreement that he could be as cruel as he likes.  Idly, as if he does not fully understand what he is doing, Rollo removes his hand shakily, returning his handkerchief to his pocket, only breaking eye contact with you to eye the abandoned apple slices on the table next to you.  “Are you still hungry?”  He is asking you a question, but it’s not the one he’s voiced.

“Yes.”  You want him to kiss you, but that doesn’t seem to be what he intends to do.  Instead he dips one of the apple slices into the honey and carefully, purposefully lifts it up to your lips.  Wordlessly, he places the slice on your tongue and continues to hold it as you bite down, watching as you chew and closing the gap as you swallow.

His kiss burns, searing you with question and confirmation that this strange attraction is as destructive as it is mutual.  “I have to take you back now.”  He breathes the words close to your lips as you breathe in the smoke of his robes, deeply trying desperately to center yourself.

Your walk back is as quick as it is silent.

~~~~

“Ahh child of man!  Good to have you back, come sit with us.”  Mallues pats the seat beside him expectantly and you gladly settle, much to the chagrin of Sebek who immediately begins howling in protest.  Grim makes similar noises when Azul suggests he sit in yours, but it has much less of an impact when he's voicing them from your lap already.  You breathe deeply, looking around at the sights and sounds of what looks to be a carnival.  Someone walks on a tightrope, there are acrobats tumbling around on the ground, and the whole thing really sparkles with wonder and excitement that feels like magic even before you see the sparks.  It is something that should excite you, but for some reason the more you try to focus on the colors, the more you try to look around the more things begin to blur together.  Perhaps it’s all the walking around you did today but you are beginning to feel extremely tired.  

“And you are all content with such trivial feats of magic?”  Malleus scoffs next to you and you frown deeply, this dance is already impressive. How could this be made better by making it louder?  Maybe he is confused because it isn’t like Briar Valley festivals.

“You could totally upgrade those.”  Snarks Idia.  Never mind, maybe your friends were just dicks.  At least you manage to get some revenge on Idia by making him dance a little with you, no matter how sluggish you feel.  Though it admittedly feels less like revenge when Idia decides to be a responsible senior and guide you back to your seat.  “Are you sure you should be standing up?”  He doesn’t even sound like he is asking the question because he wants an excuse to be anti-social, Idia looks genuinely worried.

“I’m ok, promise.”  you try to grin and bear your way through it but a quick yell for your attention from Grim and the burst of magical fireworks that follow quickly re-directs what little energy you have left.

“Grim, using magic like that in a public place is a bad idea.”  Your scolding is drowned out by other, louder scolds and a spiral into everyone setting off fireworks.  The noise and lights pound your skull with painful overstimulation.  Cautiously, Rollo moves closer to you, concern clear on his face.  

“Are you alright?”  He asks, moving to take your temperature and not finding anything wrong, the only heat you feel is running up your spine from a desperate desire for him to be closer.  You swear you hear someone, Malleus you think, calling for you to join the festivities, but the strange tiredness working its way through your limbs has reached your ears and is beginning to dull the noise around you.  Rollo does not move, he stares down at you intently watching as you dazedly try to stand.  “... Magic is such a troublesome thing, wouldn’t you agree Yuu?  I can only imagine what you have been subjected to, between being stolen from your world and being surrounded by a gaggle of rambunctious foolhardy mages.”  You want to laugh, tell him he doesn’t know the half of it, but your tongue feels like lead in your mouth.  “Worry not- this state of affairs shan’t last much longer.”  Something about his voice worms its way to the back of your skull, maybe it’s the day’s exercise, maybe it’s the noise and lights overstimulating your brian, but you are finding it harder and harder to keep opening your eyes as you blink and try to focus on what Grim is telling you.  He is tugging on your cape and jumping up and down, he has something he wants to say.  He is proud of himself, he has that genuine non-smug happy smile Grim reserves only for you when he wants your praise, and you so desperately want to see what it is he wants to show you.  But you’re tired, so very very tired.  It’s so much effort to keep your eyes open.   So you stop struggling, your eyes close and you feel yourself fall, and conveniently (too conveniently Azul notes pushing his glasses against his nose) Rollo is there to catch you.  “Yuu!”  Grim’s voice finally breaks through the fog, it’s panicked and you feel some worry bubbling up in the sane part of your mind when you realize you can’t move your hand to reassure him you are ok.

Aren’t you tired?  Don’t you want to rest?  Rest here in the City of Flowers?

“Is the noise bothering you?”  Rollo asks quietly, so quietly you wonder if anyone else can hear him other than you.  “Would you like to return to the school?”

“That might be for the best.”  Trien’s hand is cool against your forehead, his voice filled with concern.  “Would you object to taking them back, Rollo?”  You feel Rollo bend to reach under your knees and lift you so high you practically feel like you are flying.  A smile flutters onto your face; his embrace is one of safety and relaxation, with a tender caress from his thumb along your thigh that reminds you of the kiss from earlier.  

“There's no need for that,” Azul tries to attract Idia's attention subtlety “one of us would be more than happy to-”

“That's quite alright.”  Rollo doesn't even bother looking at him as he settles you further into his arms, for a brief moment your eyes open and refocus up at your… captor you suppose.  You know the sound of Azul’s worries, and though you haven’t known Rollo for near as long you think (delusionally, the tired voice is regaining its reason.  This is delusion, madness we are throwing ourselves onto a pyre-) you are beginning to recognize his.  There is worry in his gaze, solely focused on you, from the moment you met him he has been considerate and focused on you in a way that should worry you.  Trien does not seem to share your faith in Azul, you think based on the way Rollo begins to move away from the crowd towards the blissful quiet that he has decided to place his bet on the wrong mage, just as you are about to.

“I am going to trust you.”  You whisper, so slowly you wonder if Rollo even knows what it is you are saying.  If he does, he says nothing aloud, but his steps begin to pick up speed.

~~~~

Fire.  There is a fire to your left you think, the wood crackles pleasantly and gives this strange dream a cozy feel.  Your entire body feels heavy, you can barely open your eyes or move a finger, but you don't seem to be bound to this chair, you can't really seem to motivate yourself to move from it.  Someone's head is resting on your lap, their hands are shaking.

“Forgive me.”  Rollo is whispering, but there is an excitement to his voice.  You realize you have no idea how long you have been sleeping, or even where you are as your eyes open and try to adjust to the dimly lit room around you.  The stonework reminds you of the bell tower from your tour of the school, but you don’t remember seeing this room or the grand fireplace you flinch away from.  “I’m just another mage causing problems for you at the end of the day, no matter how proud I am of my virtues.”  

You manage to lift your head just enough to look down, Rollo’s head is indeed lying in your lap, his giant hat has been placed on the table just next to you, and though there is indeed triumph in his voice the expression on his face is painful.  “No matter how hard I try to better myself, I am still a mage.  I am still filled with evil and I am still forced to use that evil to pass judgment.  I couldn’t even save you without resorting to it.  I wonder just how much you would hate me if you knew…”  His eyes flutter open, gently, much too gently for someone you are slowly starting to realize likely drugged you and definitely kidnaped you, he kisses the top of your hand.  “Can I ask you for your forgiveness?  Do I even have the right?”  Slowly, with effort such a simple action should not take, you move your hand to his head and carefully run your nails over his scalp.  Rollo groans, eyes raising to meet your bleary ones.

“If I can forgive you for this…” putting you to sleep, taking you away from your friends, Rollo did not strike you as someone who did this without there being another reason, Azul had earlier described him as naive and you are inclined to trust his judgment.  “Can you accept it?”  Rollo closes his eyes briefly, considering his options.

“If I were to tell you there was a way for magic to no longer be an obstacle…”  He says it with such certainty you do not doubt him for a second “that I could free this world of that sickness that elevates people undeserving and unnecessarily, would you forgive me for the pain it would cause?”

“Do you see yourself as sick, Rollo?”  You move your hand just under his chin, gently directing his head back up to look at you.  Rollo grasps your hand as you do, rising from the floor as he places it just above his frantically beating heart.

“Don’t you?”  There is pain in his eyes.  Pain and sorrow just like every friend you have seen overblot except without the touch of inky madness that precedes it.  “Or am I just like your friends at that school?”

“You aren’t like them.”  It’s a lie of sorts, whatever Rollo has done, you strongly suspect, is no worse or better than anything the others have.  But- “Why do you care about me so much?”  You ask, voice cracking under the strain of your confusion.  Rollo tightens his grip on your hand, his heart is hammering against it as if it wants to burst out of his ribcage and intertwine itself with your hand.  But it cannot, so it satisfies itself with Rollo dipping forward to kiss your lips.  Softly once, gently twice he kisses, before all pretense is lost and he moves in tune with you to hold onto your cape desperately and kiss and kiss and kiss deeply before he needs to come up for air.  He dares not move fully away, taking his breaths just above your lips and slowly continuing to kiss along your jaw and just below murmuring his words as prayers indescribable as he does.  

“I don’t know why.”  Rollo groans in self hatred as you let out a tortured cry “Ever since I saw you I’ve been unable to remove you from my thoughts, my mind burns with flaming desire to throw away my plans,”  he bites, his teeth sink slowly as you grasp at his robes and gasp “to get to know you.  What makes you happy, the things that make you laugh and what makes you cry.  I want to know that I can create a place where someone as lovely and filled with light as you does not feel the need to be anything more than themselves.  Where, when there is danger, you are protected.”  This too, this mad man who proudly sucks just one more mark onto your skin, is your Rollo, your Rollo who is so clearly going through something he will not confess to you and lashing out at the world like every other mage you know and yet…and yet he is saying the things you want to hear.  The things you have longed for any other person to say to you as he rests his forehead against yours, lips bruised by yours and yet still not defiled near enough.  

“When magic causes problems, the fallout should not be yours to take.”  And just like that, you don’t care.  Not nearly as much as you should, you should be hitting him not letting him admire his work as you fall back into a chair he didn’t need to bind you to, and certainly not thinking of how much you wish he had.  You should hold him to the same standard you had the others.  “I’ll come back for you.”  It should frighten you, how quick he is to return to the stoic calm you had met him in as he promises you something awful.  “There are things I need to attend to at the top of the tower, but I swear I will come back to you.”  You don’t have to think hard about who those will be, Malleus’s angry shouts of betrayal at the (likely) false invitation aren’t hard to imagine, hopefully he hasn’t hurt anyone.

“Stay safe.”  You hoarsely whisper, and Rollo briefly pauses in his walk to the door.  Whatever he is thinking you aren’t left wondering long, quickly with a speed you didn’t know he had he darts back to press a kiss to your forehead.

“You too, Yuu.”  He says your name with something like love once he returns to the door, his smile shines with it.  It’s not his fault that you want it to be, is it his fault that you doubt him?  If it is not love Rollo feels then what is it?  Just obsession or-

“AHA!”  A familiar voice knocks you out of your thoughts and onto the floor.  “FINALLY I FOUND YA!”

~~~~

“It would seem I have made a severe and continuous lapse in my judgment.”  Trien’s understatement should fall flat, but Deuce is too busy bouncing his leg to try and dispel his stress.  “I was too focused on trying to make sure you all were not causing trouble, I neglected to consider outside influences.”  There is no need to guess what he is referring to, there is a noticeable absence among the collected NRC students.  “Are you sure you should be thanking him?”  As if Azul can sense Deuce’s thoughts, he begins to voice his own.

“Be that as it may, I doubt Rollo means to actually harm Yuu.  Almost everything he has said to this point about magicless people seems to suggest he thinks they need to be coddled, not punished.”

“Indeed.”  Jamil nods, eyes closed as if he is thinking really hard about something.  “But  his personal feelings towards Yuu is what makes this concerning, that’s what you are thinking I assume Azul?”  

“Like I said,” Azul tries to ignore the cold sweat gathering at the back of his neck, “I doubt he means to harm them, but that doesn't mean his actions won’t have unintended consequences.  Which is why we need to wrap this up as quickly as possible.”

“The rest of you do that.”  Deuce is surprised by how calm he feels, his best friend is in danger, he should be furious.  But all he feels is an unfamiliar determined calm.  “I’ll go look for Yuu.”

“LOLOL what makes you think you need to do that?”  Idia's laughter does spark a bit of a snarl from him, but Idia doesn't back down.  “If Rollo’s following the classic BBGE playbook, Yuu’s got to be in the Bell Tower yeah?  No need to split off into search parties, the princess is always in the final castle.”

“So there you have it.”  Malleus has been disturbingly quiet ever since Epel pointed out how he destroyed the fire lotuses.  His green eyes haven't once moved from their scorched roots, as if he is attempting to sear his anger into the stones below. “I will crush Rollo Flamm under my heel and bring Yuu back to all of us as whole the day they were taken.”

“Dude it has literally been like an hour.”  Idia shakes his head, but Deuce can't help but agree with Malleus. 

“Hold on Yuu, I promise we'll find you.”

~~~~

“Nyhahahaha!  Take that!”  Grim swats the air as if he's cutting through imaginary ropes.  “All those other losers screamin’ and whining as soon as those flowers started poppin up but not the Great Grim!  I jumped all the way up to where that Rollo guy was hangin out and followed him right here to you!”  The story Grim tells you confirms your worst fears, but soothes some of the lesser ones.  You have no doubt that if anyone can solve the threat of the crimson lotus’s it’s Idia, Azul, and Malleus.  As soon as they were done measuring dicks anyway, for now you only have one real thing on your mind; desperately scrambling forward on the floor to scoop Grim up in your arms and hold him tight.  He's trembling, and your heart begins to beat painfully in your chest as Grim starts to sob.  “I was so worried about you.”

“I'm ok Grim.”  You mean it this time, whatever Rollo fed you has well worked its way through your system and left you with the energy to whip away your beloved monster’s tears.  “A bit sleepy but ok.”

“Of course you're OK the Great Grim's here.”  You contine wipe his nose through his sniffles.  “And now he’s gonna get you out of the tower!  Just like a real hero!”  But his bravado has a slight stutter, and yours is fighting a war with your heart.  Your eyes close as you think of Rollo, at the top of the bell tower fighting to defend his delusions from people who would understand only half of what his problems were.  

“I wish I had met him sooner.”  It wouldn’t have stopped this, but you wonder not for the first or last time what would have happened if the poor mage had just had someone to talk to.

“You don’t wanna go do ya.”  Grim frowns, eyes and ears drooping before he remembers he is supposed to be in charge.   “Well then we can stay.  Why should we go back to the other guys!  Yeah!  Screw ‘em!  Always makin’ us do the hard work while they go and have fun.”

“No it’s ok Grim.”  You stand, making sure to still hold onto him as you stand, carefully at first to make sure you are ok to put weight on your legs.  “If we stay here you will never get to be the world’s greatest mage.”

“Yeah…”  Grim does not perk up when you say that, it’s almost enough to make you break out into a sprint in case he has lost too much of his magic already.  “Ya know… henchuman, I don’t wanna go out there alone.  S’ not fun without you.  I don’t wanna be the greatest mage if I have ta not have you.”  

“...I’m not going anywhere Grim.”  You touch your head to his, like a mother cat trying to comfort her kit.  It’s an empty promise you suppose, with how desperate you are to go home.  But if what Rollo had said about teleportation magic was true… then maybe you would just have to pick a place to make a new home instead.  

The rest of the night is a blur.  Somehow you manage to make it down the tower stairs to Deuce, who nearly has a panic attack when he sees you, and Rook who starts composing a poem in ode to Grim’s bravery that gives him a unneeded ego boost.  They do a much better job of explaining what had happened than Grim had.

About the lotuses.  About the pandemonium in the town, about what Azul and Idia had convinced Malleus to do.

“Please don’t ever get kidnapped again.  Malleus got really scary.”  The look on Deuce’s face suggests you will need to give Tsunotarou a lecture later.  A long, long lecture that you suppose you can make somewhat shorter for how glad you are to hear the Bell of Solace ring out.   And for insisting on Rollo still hold the ball.  Getting to see Silver and Sebek try to toss Ruggie, Jamil, and Idia in the air completely makes getting kidnapped worth it.  But…Your friends have not exactly left you alone since the threat ended.  You know why of course, if one of them had been kidnapped you probably would be doing the same thing, but it’s keeping you from some closure.  For someone who promised to come back for you, Rollo sure seems determined to stay away.  It’s making your expression crumple in sadness behind your mask, something you wonder if he notices at all.

~~~~

“I am so grateful to you for providing me with so many memories.”  Malleus holds tightly onto Rollo’s arm as the music flows across the ballroom, piercing gaze strategically keeping him away from the moonlit balcony you have decided to sequester yourself too.  “But I must say there is one matter I think we have neglected to discuss.”

“And what could that possibly be?”  Rollo snaps, the audacity of these Night Raven fools hurts, all he wishes to do is lick his wounds in peace.

“Why, the matter of your unfortunate attachment to my dearest friend.”  Mallues grins, something like fear is finally flickering behind Rollo’s eyes.  How unfortunate.  “The child of man is precious to me, Flamm.  And more importantly they do not share your views on magic.”

“Have you asked them?”  Rollo replies tersely.  

“Why would we need to do that?”  Azul’s voice smoothly interrupts the private dance, he and Idia move to Rollo’s either side, they certainly look concerned.  Angry even.  If there were not mages Rollo would be pleased you had such dedicated friends.

“Because it’s clear from how little you paid attention to their safety this entire trip that you expect them to constantly come away from your magic abuses unscathed.”  He snaps.  “Tell me, if I hadn’t placed them in the tower, what would have happened to them?  Would you have been considerate of their weaknesses?  Yuu is not invincible, and I am ashamed that I of all people seem to be the only one concerned about their safety.”

“No I don’t think you are.”  Azul says.  “Not in the way you think, anyway.  Yuu is extremely capable, we don’t treat them differently from any other student because we hate them, that’s just silly.  Your entire perception of them is based on a terribly prejudiced first impression, and not one nearly as positive as you seem to think.”

“You can just say he has a creepy purity fetish and go.”  Mutters Idia.

“And completely destroy my credibility?”  Azul has more to say, but it's cut off before he can make his point.

“I agree with Shroud.”  Mallues says, causing both Rollo and Azul to choke.  “His treatment of Yuu is very much in line with cult-like devotion towards a magical artifact.  Extremely ironic given his mission statement, wouldn’t you agree, Ashengrotto?”  

“Oh of course!”  Azul laughs, making sure to step forcefully on Idia’s foot before he can go correcting anyone.  “But perhaps back to my point-”

“You don't have one.”  Mutters Rollo, already bored with the conversation and desperate to find you again, just one more time before this entire failed event is over and he has to return to his plans.

“Yuu is a hard worker, and stubborn too.  They do not need magic to be just as capable of what they do as any mage.”  Azul’s words make him pause, he searches desperately for any sign of deception in them, but there isn’t any there.

“You do realize,” he tries slowly, “that none of those qualities make them able to defend themselves from offensive magic, which your Professor at least seems to think you quite willing to use.”

“I mean yeah.”  Says Idia.  “But like, that’s not what he’s trying to say.  If you only choose a route because it has tropes you like then you aren’t really loyal to that character.  If the only reason you don’t want to hurt Yuu is because they haven’t got magic then you are just as bad as any of us.  And trust me, they’re scary smart.  They’ll know.”  And with that cryptic message, Rollo finally finds himself alone with his thoughts.

Two lines.  The first time he saw you the only thing he knew about you was two lines on a sheet of paper that said literally nothing.  And the longer he stares at you, the more he feels like he is drowning under the weight of how little he still knows.

Yuu is a magicless human from a world without magic.  They like to read about myths and legends from different cultures.  They like their cat monster friend and treat him like a sibling.  There, that’s three lines.

Unbidden, his body begins to move towards the balcony where you are standing.  

What is Yuu’s favorite color, do they like croissants?  Are they allergic to any types of pollen, what is their world like?  Do they have siblings, a family that they miss?

He wants to kiss you again, but properly this time.  Not in the throws of a shared delusion, still maybe in the bell tower, but with your full acceptance.

“May I have your hand?”  Rollo feels more sick at the way your eyes light up than anything Malleus had said about guilt and absolution.

“Of course.”  He does not take you out to the center of the dance floor, he does not flaunt you as a trophy won at your friends expense.  He simply winds his arms around you to hold you scandalously close.  “Rollo, do you mind if I ask you some questions?  About some things that Idia told me…”

“Will you give me your number?”  He thinks there is a different way he is supposed to ask a question like that, a nicer one.  “There are a lot of things I want to talk to you about, but tonight I think I want to savor what it feels like to hold you for as long as I can… as long as you are alright with that.”  You do not say anything in response, instead you lay your head against his chest, ear firm on his heartbeat as you close your weary eyes.  “I meant what I said before.  I want you to think of Fleur City as a place where you can find respite.  Solace.”

“Maybe you should invite me to come back then.”  You say and he closes his own eyes to picture it.  He has other places he can take you, better bookstores, more historic places.  Maybe there is a key to sending you home somewhere in his city and if not-

“Careful, I just might ask you to stay forever.”  There is an unspoken aura over you both.  Gentle, new, and warm in a way that Rollo certainly never thought he would be allowed to experience.  An aura of agreement that in time, that might not be such a bad thing to ask after all.

#twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #rollo flamme x reader #yandere twisted wonderland #tw yandere #tw drugs #tw drugging

[steddiealltheway]

It's a pretty dead day for Family Video with no customers for hours besides Eddie who stays around, "For your entertainment," he explains to Steve when he asks why he's still there. It's not that Steve minds, in fact, he really enjoys his company... like... really enjoys it.

Robin teases him about his crush, but Steve refuses to acknowledge it because he knows Robin might accidentally blab about it to Eddie. So he settles for casually brushing off the lighthearted teasing about his hopeless crush.

Sure, Eddie seems to flirt with him and spends a great deal of his time around him, but Steve isn't one hundred percent certain that he's into him. In fact, he seems to act the same way around Nancy who he is currently talking about.

A groan from Robin cuts Eddie off and has Steve confusedly looking at her. "Tell me how to win over Nancy!"

It comes to Steve as a bit of a shock, not the crush but the cry for help to not only him but Eddie, too.

Eddie weirdly doesn't seem as shocked though, and he even seems... excited.

"Buy her roses?" Steve suggests, but Eddie immediately scoffs.

"Nancy Wheeler, does not want roses. She wants someone who will listen to her. Try asking her about what she's writing for the paper and really stay invested," Eddie says.

Robin looks at him for a moment with narrowed eyes but nods. "That's... actually good advice. Thank you."

Steve pauses and considers it. It really is good advice. Great advice even. It's almost as if that's what Eddie wants...

"Surprised?" Eddie asks and Steve glances up at him from across the counter. "You look like you're deep in thought wondering how I thought of something like that," Eddie says as if he's about to let him in on some secret.

But before Steve can think about what it could be he replies, "No, I was just... wondering if you wanted to tell me about your most recent campaign. Dustin told me a little about what you have so far, so...fill me in on the rest?"

Steve hears Robin scoff behind him in disbelief as Eddie's jaw slightly drops and he stares at him. "You're serious?"

Steve nods in response and smiles.

"Okay, Harrington, but strap in and prepare to get your mind blown..." Eddie says and launches into the details. Steve is surprised when he genuinely gets taken by the story and starts asking him questions. But then he gets a bit distracted by the way Eddie keeps leaning into him with wide eyes gleaming with joy and an even wider smile.

Steve sincerely hopes that Robin keeps asking for advice because it's going to come in handy as he tries to win over Eddie.

-:-:-:-:-:-

"Eddie, could you possibly give me more of your wooing wisdom?" Robin asks a few days later.

Steve's almost surprised since the first piece of advice had gone so well it scored Robin a full day of hanging out and even a drop-in visit at Family Video by Nancy herself. But Eddie nonetheless is already leaning over the counter and saying, "She would love it if you complimented her. Just little things like her outfits, her hair, her writing especially though. She seems like a sucker for words of affirmation."

His response is so quick that Steve wonders how much Eddie craves those words of affirmation. "Speaking of hair, have I ever told you how great yours looks?" Steve asks Eddie.

Robin cackles as Eddie's eyes go a bit wide. "Uh, no, but thank you, Stevie."

Throughout the rest of the shift, Steve subtly throws Eddie little compliments such as how he looks in his infamous vest, his taste in movies, and even goes as far as complimenting how great he is with the kids. It makes the tips of his ears and the apples of his cheek a little pink, and that's exactly the reaction Steve was hoping for.

He wonders what else Eddie has up his sleeve.

-:-:-:-:-:-

After a few more days filled with compliments, lots of intentional listening, and quite a few visits from Nancy, Eddie finally hops over the counter and corners Robin. She continues to watch Nancy in the back of the store as she reads over what must be very interesting descriptions of movies because she's been in the store for quite a long time.

Steve keeps teasing Robin about it, but she refuses to listen. Maybe Eddie will make her.

"Final piece of advice," Eddie says to Robin quietly enough that Steve has to scoot closer to them to eavesdrop. "Just ask her out. She's over there waiting for you to make a move. Just... trust me, okay? If it goes wrong you can punch me in the face, chop off my hair, and even go after my guitar."

Steve's eyebrows raise. Eddie must be very confident in his advice.

Robin seems to actually listen as she carefully and very slowly makes her way toward Nancy.

Just ask her out... So, Steve should just... ask Eddie out. Simple.

"Hey, Edd-"

"I've been wa-"

The two glance at each other and smile. "Go ahead," Steve says and looks back toward Robin.

"I've been waiting to tell you this. I've gotten all those tips directly from Nancy. I made Robin her walking kryptonite," Eddie says excitedly.

Nancy's walking kryptonite. Not Eddie's. Shit.

"What were you saying?" Eddie asks.

Steve shakes his head. "Nothing... I just forgot."

Eddie nods and nudges Steve's shoulder as they watch Robin ramble out something to Nancy who stares at her with furrowed brows. There's a pause as Nancy says something that sounds like, "So a date?"

Robin nervously nods back, and there's a moment that makes Steve hold his breath.

"I'd love to," Nancy says back and Eddie nearly jumps for joy as Steve lets out a deep breath.

Eddie turns back to him and asks, "Are you sure there wasn't something you were going to say?"

Steve nods, and Eddie seems disappointed. He hesitates then turns around as if he's going to scale the counter again.

Steve glances around the basically empty store then reaches out and grabs his wrist. "Wait."

Eddie turns around and looks at him.

"This is so stupid, but I thought all the advice you were giving to Robin... Well, I thought it was what you wanted. So, I've been trying to use it to win you over, but turns out... it wasn't what you wanted. And I'm not sure why I'm admitting this to you, but I just wanted to let you know why I guess I've been so weird the past few days," Steve says and runs a hand through his hair.

Eddie gives him an incredulous look. "You wanted to win me over?"

Steve can feel himself begin to flush as he nods.

A wide smile spread over Eddie's face. "Well lucky for you, flattery works on me, but just asking me out works even better."

Steve takes a moment to process what Eddie means.

"Ask him out, dingus!" Robin says and Steve jumps a bit forgetting she was there.

"Do you want to go out sometime?" Steve asks quickly as he takes Robin's advice.

"Yes, my advice is that we go out tonight after your shift."

Steve laughs, "My advice is that instead of giving advice you just tell me what you want."

"Well, I advise you-"

"Oh my gosh, if either of you says advice one more time I'm letting Nancy use you for target practice," Robin says and Nancy laughs.

Eddie leans closer to Steve and stage whispers, "I think we should advise her to watch her temper."

"Eddie!" Robin says as she scales the counter.

Eddie easily gets away and runs out the front door. "I advise you to pick me up at seven!"

"I'll take your advice!" Steve yells back.

It's worth the lecture Steve gets from Robin for the rest of their shift, but she isn't too mad since Nancy stays (following Steve's advice).

#steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #background ronance #stranger things #steddie ficlet #robin buckley #nancy wheeler #fruity four

[manykinsmen]

i want to talk a little bit about why i think the way nico rosberg is maligned by the world of f1 has a great deal to do with gender, sexuality and queerness. this isn't to say that nico isn't heterosexual and cisgender. we have no reason not to take him at his word in this regard; he understands himself best. what it is to say is that nico rosberg's presence threatens the way in which gender and sexuality is constructed in the wider world of f1, which has ramifications for both individuals within f1 and f1 as an institution.

so we have to talk, therefore, about the "platonic ideal" if you will, of an f1 driver. we all know, that except the bubbles of f1blr and f1tiktok, which fall into more of a "fandom" concept, and are therefore necessarily the domain of women and queer people, motorsports as a whole is a hyper-masculine pursuit as both a participant and a spectator, as is the case with most sports. we might therefore, gravitate towards thinking of this platonic ideal as some kind of super-jacked mega-sports guy. we do have to alter this a little to account for the specifics of f1, which prefers a smaller build, though still muscular, to complement the car. f1 has also long cultivated an aura of elegance to set itself apart from other motorsports series like NASCAR. this is not a diesel-huffing crowd, this is a champagne on yachts crowd. our faves all come out somewhere on the classic hollywood leading man to meterosexual sliding scale. i would volunteer charles leclerc as the best example of this platonic ideal in recent memory. the evidence of this? the amount of "traditional" f1 fans (i.e. men who watch the races and do not engage in fandom) professing an obsession with him.

where does nico fit in in relation to this platonic ideal? on paper, he seems pretty damn close. he's also got a slighter, lither build and also has always carried around an aura of elegance. he was even born and raised in monaco, like charles, whatever his passport says. there's a whole sub-essay i could write on the way that, in so many ways, both within and outside fandom, charles has picked up nico's baton, occupies the space he vacated, but we'll save that post for another day. so if nico is so close to the platonic ideal, why then is he not more celebrated? why then is he regarded with such suspicion? well, we can't micro-analyse his physical features, or pinpoint the source of the feelings he generates in others. not only would this be an exercise in futility, it would also be remarkably close to an exercise in anti-queer eugenics. the answer is that, for whatever reason, the feelings he generates in the traditional, heterosexual, cisgender male audience and participants of f1 are different to the feelings that charles generates.

let's analyse. they're both openly acknowledged to be/have been beautiful, but what's the difference here? well, charles presents in a subtly more masculine way. his haircuts have, since he reached adulthood, typically been shorter and he usually sports some degree of facial hair. nico's hair is often best described as long, for a man, and he's always clean-shaven. charles is also much more gender-conforming in his fashion choices, and more conservative (even when he makes poor choices), whereas nico's fashion choices (especially since leaving f1) are typically much more considered, "put together", and he takes bigger risks with patterns, colours and cuts. he also often carries a bag, which is associated with femininity. it's subtle, but on some occasions we could even make an argument that nico is gender-nonconforming in his fashion choices, at least within a hypermasculine sphere.

why does the way in which they dress and groom themselves matter so much? it's a huge part of how we signal gender and sexuality. susan sontag's notes on "camp" explains this in great detail. camp fashion emerged during the time in which homosexuality was illegal and therefore couldn't be announced publicly. instead it had to be signified somehow. this was achieved through a combination of fashion and mannerisms. camp, then, is even when performed by cisgender heterosexuals, inextricably and viscerally linked to queerness, particularly the queerness of amab individuals. this is because, later, "butch", which achieved the same results by travelling the opposite direction was separated from camp as its own entity. it is therefore a deviation from expected masculinity, and proximate to femininity. in a hypermasculine sphere, the threshold at which camp emerges is much weaker. nico rosberg presents camp. charles leclerc manages to avoid doing so. (side note, since nico retired, lewis hamilton has become much more daring in his own choices and is also finding himself flaunting gender presentation norms in f1. interesting, wouldn't you say?)

but this isn't the only way that nico rosberg has developed an association with queerness. the second way is entirely out of his control - it's the uncomfortable attraction of other men to nico rosberg. again, lets compare nico and charles. whilst plenty of people, fans or those who work in f1, are happy to admit that charles is "handsome", or even "beautiful", the word "pretty" is reserved (again, excepting in fandom spheres) for nico. why is this important? well, charles represents a male fantasy. men want to /be/ charles. even when a few cis-het male fans go as far as to say they have a "man crush" on charles or would make an exception to their heterosexuality for him, it's not a real suggestion. why? well, when these cis-het men say they would sleep with charles, what they mean is that they have mentally attempted to put themselves in the shoes of someone who is attracted to men and then found what they believe to be the best example of a man. charles is the platonic ideal of an f1 driver, he is therefore maximally fuckable, assuming one is attracted to men. for these men, saying that they would fuck charles is the end result of a thought experiment. what they are really saying, in quite a masturbatory fashion, is that they would like to be charles and fuck people.

nico rosberg, however, brings uncomfortable tangibility to this thought experiment. we've already established that nico has an association with femininity and femaleness that charles simply does not. for a heterosexual man, a feminine person is the typical subject of their attractions. nico expresses himself, both in fashion and mannerism, in a similar way to the women that are the object of many heterosexual men's desires. "pretty" is a word that is reserved by heterosexual men for women, and yet, it is/was routinely used about nico rosberg. a small case study in this is jenson button. by his own admission, jenson button had a psychosexual fascination with britney spears. what nickname did he immediately pick up for nico rosberg? britney. (note, i am aware that mark webber is the origin of this nickname, but jenson really took the baton and ran with it out of a few options). not only does this double down on nico's proximity to femininity, it also highlights jenson button's attraction. he doesn't just give him the name of any woman, but the woman he, self-admittedly, desires the most. jenson might be the most flagrant example, but he's not the only one. giving rapid one-word responses to drivers, mark webber gives nico as "pretty". another nickname that emerges for nico is "princess" - again, associated with not only femininity but highly desirable femininity.

so then is it all a big gay panic? while that certainly doesn't help and causes fractious relationships on an individual level. it's actually not the only problem nico rosberg's gender expression poses. to understand the other problem, we have to talk about the entrenched misogyny of f1. the platonic ideal of an f1 driver is, always has been, and will likely continue to be for a very long time, a man. a particular kind of man, as we have understood, but nevertheless, a man who manages, despite the preference for a smaller build and elegance, to skirt around the edges of femininity without touching it. nico rosberg is too close to femininity and worst of all, he is a champion.

one of the most curious things about women in formula 1, is that they are perpetually forgotten. even long-time fans of the sport, are often surprised to discover that there have been five female f1 drivers. it's a truly stunning display of repressed memory. even then, women in the world of f1 are necessarily "butch", simply for their presence within it. with a very small pool of exceptions, to participate seriously in sport as a woman is to be masculinised, voluntarily or otherwise. this is to say nothing of the over-representation of women loving women or women who by personal preference present more butch in sport. even though f1 represses its women as a traumatic memory, when women enter its sphere, they are masculinised, the sport is not feminised, well at least as long as they remain minor players.

nico rosberg's championship immortalises him in the annals of f1. by the rules that they have put in place, he cannot be repressed in the same way that the memory of lella lombardi or maria teresa di fillipis or even mike beuttler (a driver revealed to be gay after his retirement who subsequently died during the AIDS epidemic) can be. the role of champion is meant to be fulfilled by the platonic ideal of an f1 driver (side note, we can read into charles's title of "il predestino" quite a bit here). if it isn't, then it necessarily shifts the platonic ideal and therefore the identity of f1. nico rosberg's championship win represents not just a crisis of sexuality, but a crisis of identity across the entire sport, all of which is tied up in gender presentation. when nico rosberg won, the sport got camper, and it hated that.

to make matters worse, by immediately announcing his retirement for the express purpose of spending time with his wife and then newborn daughter (since then, he has had a second daughter), rather than shrugging off his associations with femininity by leaning into having a title and taking off in pursuit of more, nico doubled down on this. proximity to children, especially day to day, is another thing that typically falls into the domain of femininity, although we are beginning to dismantle this a little bit in the 21st century. however, f1 remains a hyper-masculine space in which its participants are expected, or even demanded, to spend large quantities of time away from any children that they might have. there are no accommodations made for parents on the grid. despite nico's decision to retire, when we reflect upon it, being highly understandable, its associations with femininity add to the impulse to call the decision "cowardly". it is an emasculating decision, and therefore incomprehensible to the hyper-masculine world of f1.

following his retirement, nico's campness only increases. i might speculate here, that part of this is the lifting of pressure to present in a way that people surrounding him in f1 are more comfortable with - you can see that his outfits when he is doing punditry for sky, for example, are much more conservative. nico has been open about not liking who he was when he was putting in serious bids for the f1 championship, and pressures to behave in a more masculine fashion might have formed part of that. likewise, nico goes out of his way to emphasise his relationship and closeness to women and femininity, branding himself as a "girl dad" (we could compare here to kevin magnussen, who is also the father of two daughters whom he clearly cares about very deeply, but hasn't, to my knowledge, referred to himself as a "girl dad". when we consider nico's behaviours post-retirement to be "cringe" we might then want to interrogate which behaviours, exactly, we mean. "cringe" very frequently, is a disguise that misogyny and homophobia wears to be let back into he building.

how does the world of f1 react to this? by attempting to repress nico rosberg. mercedes fails to mention and credit their only other champion besides lewis hamilton, even in the same breath in which they claim closeness and proximity to michael schumacher. fans undermine the validity of his win by implying it was merely the culmination of lewis hamilton's bad luck with regards to car reliability, which not only undermines nico's achievement but so to lewis's (to be truly the best, one must triumph over greatness and skill, not untalented hacks, as many would you have believe). new fans of the sport are often shocked to discover that nico rosberg is in fact a world champion, even though only two drivers have won the title since him, and only one new driver. where nico can't be erased, he is cast in the role of the villain, the way disney villains almost always carry an association with camp and gender nonconformity.

what's the conclusion then? well, it's perhaps not the entire picture of why nico rosberg is so maligned, but gender identity and sexuality are definitely something to think about here. the way he challenges the very strict gender role an f1 driver, and especially a wold champion, is expected to perform is incredibly uncomfortable to both the institution of f1 and individuals operating within it (as fans, or as participants). and maybe, just maybe, we should interrogate the concept of "cringe", which is often used as a to beat those that challenge our expectations in these areas.

#nico rosberg #charles leclerc #f1 #queer theory #feminism #jenson button

[backwardsbread]

Your “Hazbin Hotel Characters Forgetting an Anniversary” has become a comfort post of mine. You did such a good job with it and did amazing in capturing their personalities as well!

I was wondering if I could request an Adam fic? Like one where he realizes that he actually cares about reader, but he goes about showing that in the strangest ways? He may be a massive obnoxious jerk in the show, but he somehow made his way to being a favorite of mine in the show.

My heart- opening my inbox and seeing this made my day-

I’ve also been obsessing over Adam fics lately so seeing something with Adam get requested made me SO happy! I am happy to oblige~!

Adam x Gn!Angel!Reader

~Feelings are Fucked~

Warnings‼️: Adam being Adam, mutual pining, swearing, maybe OOC?

~Not proofread~

Listen. I don’t gotta tell you that Adam is always up his own ass.

Dude is OBSESSED with himself.

He would be the type of guy to be like;

“Oh yeah, have you heard of the BIBLE?? I’m kinda in it, no big deal.”

He’s on his own mind 99.9% of the time. His needs, wants, desires.

He’s so Self centered it’s not even funny-

So IMAGINE how he feels when you start to pick your way into his thoughts. And he has no idea why.

(Obviously Adam was the superior being, why should you have all people be on his mind??)

It’s easy for him to brush away these random thoughts of you. He could easily distract himself with material things to get his mind off the topic.

Eventually when distractions stop working, he feels like he’s going crazy.

He’s got a lot of things to do in Heaven, yet you feel like the most important ones to him.

I can see Adam being a huge flirt in the beginning. If he can get you to fall for him as hard as he has for you, he’ll consider it a win.

But he doesn’t really realize how much of a dick he comes off as. He absolutely makes a fool of himself majority of the time.

Gives the vibe of him saying something lowkey offensive while laughing and you just staring at him blankly and asked ‘What’s so funny?’

It’s frustrating for him how he can’t seem to get to you.

He doesn’t ask for advice from anybody, but I can definitely see Lute giving her 2 cents while Adam is ranting about how ‘annoying’ you are.

Her biggest piece of advice being for him to just stfu sometimes and actually listen to you.

Adam will never admit how much that actually helped him, it seemed like such a simple solution that he just hadn’t been doing.

So instead of being this overbearing flirt, he’ll just listen to you talk, occasionally chiming in with his own banter. Through this he learns a lot more about you.

And he makes an effort to show you he’s been listening.

You mention your favorite candy? He grabs some for you whenever he’s out getting snacks.

You mention a favorite scent of yours? Suddenly his whole house smells like it whenever you come over.

Got a favorite flower? He just so happened to see some at the garden and brings you one.

Of course he makes sure to follow up his kind gestures with a flirty or snarky remark. Trying to be this big tough guy despite how sweet he’s being to you.

He doesn’t realize how much of a total sap he’s being and how obvious his feelings are for you.

I can totally see Adam’s love language being gift giving and physical touch.

He’s not good with words. Never has been, never will be.

So he often shows his care for you by poking your side or cheek, resting his head or chin on your shoulder, ruffling your hair, or keeping one of his wings behind your back to make sure your close to him.

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

Adam was walking along the streets of heaven with you, ranting about how his superior Sera, was supposedly being a Karen.

In his words she ‘wouldn’t get off his dick’ about his behavior and language. You listened to Adam’s ranting, letting him express his frustrations despite how petty the situation might’ve been. You occasionally let out hums of acknowledgment and nod towards him to show you were listening.

While you’re paying attention to him, a few angels who seemed to be in a rush, nearly bump into you from behind. Adam catches a glimpse of the angels coming your guys’ way, and extends his wing out to shield you from the other angels.

He grabs your hand, bringing you closer to him while his wing wraps around your torso. He waits for the angels to pass by, giving them an extremely fake smile as they flew by. Once they were out of sight, Adam’s smile falls and he grumbles to himself, pulling his wing back to his side.

“Stupid, fucking… can’t watch where they’re going?”

He keeps your hand in his own, continuing to grumble how some angels needed to mind their business and watch where they were going. The two of you continue to walk, but Adam’s voice seems to drown out, and you can only really focus on your hand in his own.

Sure Adam had been affectionate to you many times, but never in public. It wasn’t something that bothered you either. You just felt anxious butterflies fly around your stomach, a sense of pride welling up in your chest that Adam was holding your hand. As the two of you are about to reach your destination, you finally speak up to Adam before you would have to depart from him.

“Hey, are you.. doing anything.. tomorrow evening?”

You ask, scratching the back of your neck a bit with your free hand. Warmth spreads across your face as Adam just kind of stares at you for a moment, pondering.

“Uhh, got a few boring ass meetings after noon, but otherwise, I’m chilling for the rest of the night.”

“Would you.. want to go out to dinner tomorrow? If you’re up for it.”

Your question seemed to go over Adam’s head of what your intentions were. Free food was free food, (and time spent with you was a plus)

He lets his ego take over for a bit, putting a proud hand over his chest. His grin shines across his mask, spreading from ear to ear.

“I suppose I can make some time for you. As long as I get to pick the place.”

You can’t help but chuckle, face flushing hues of pink when Adam agreed. You smile brightly, finally letting go of Adam’s hand.

“Sounds good! Let’s say around 5 or 6?”

“Don’t rush me babes, I’ll text ya when I’m headed over.”

Adam says nonchalantly, crossing his arms. Despite his attitude, you watch his eyes shift away from you, avoiding your gaze. He’s embarrassed and you can tell by how his guard started to come back up. You had learned these little telltale signs Adam had. You chuckle, simply waving to Adam, wishing him good luck on his meeting and telling him you’ll see him tomorrow.

Adam smiles genuinely, giving a small wave back, before turning towards the large angelic building to head inside. Lute was waiting by the door for him and she just so happened to hear your guys’ little exchange. Adam’s whistling to himself, his heart beating fast in his chest but he can’t put his finger on the exact reason as to why.

Lute looks towards him, raising a suspicious brow. She sighs seeing how Adam was oblivious to what he had just agreed to. While holding the door open for Adam to enter the building, she speaks.

“You know they just asked you on a date, right?”

Adam’s whistling comes to a complete stop, his body freezing where he stood. Lute glances up at him, pressing her lips together so she doesn’t laugh at Adam’s look of shock.

“They fuckin’ what??”

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin adam #hazbin adam x reader #adam x reader #hazbin hotel adam #hazbin hotel headcanon #hazbin x reader #x reader #character x reader #hazbin lute #hazbin hotel lute

[kindnessoverperfection]

I want to break down a common point of conflict when addressing NPD stigma.

A lot of hangups people have tend to be along the lines of "but I DO see a lot of people with actual NPD who are acting in toxic or abusive ways".

This will be kind of long, so bear with me.

Point #1: People are way more likely to be diagnosed if they exhibit "stereotypical" symptoms.

There's this image of NPD as a disorder that is only present in those with patterns of destructive behavior towards others. Many therapists have this conception. (Shockingly, the mental health field is not perfect & without stigma.)

Gonna copy-paste this here from my other blog (so forgive me if you've seen it before), because it's a good example.

Three people are criticized at work. Their boss yells at them for their performance in front of everyone. Person A gets mad and defensive. They yell back, using cutting remarks as a way to try and ease the distress they feel. Person B acts really mature and responsible the whole time, nodding along and agreeing and promising to do better, just desperate to maintain and improve their status. Desperate to be liked. Later they go home and handle their distress through self-destructive means, and spend the next few months overworking themself to the point of illness. Person C doesn't seem to respond much at all. They go quiet and seem distant. They don't lash out or lash in, but for the next month or so, their productivity drops. They simply aren't able to focus on work or self-care, no matter how hard they try. The stress is overwhelming. All three of these people have the same root issues, but only the first would be labeled a narcissist. Outwards behaviors and presentations don't reflect the pain, distress, and difficulties with life that are underlying them.

So, three main things happen.

There ends up being a higher rate of people with destructive behaviors who are diagnosed with NPD

The people who don't particularly exhibit behaviors and are considered ""too nice to have it"" are overlooked entirely (and never get any sort of help for their underlying issues, yayyy)

People are more likely to be more honest about "ugly" symptoms / symptoms that are frowned down upon than they are in other mental health communities.

(Also some people decide to act super edgy about it, which is annoying but here we are. Some of them are trolls.)

(And while I'm at it, some people are misdiagnosed with NPD because a psych sees someone who committed a violent crime and is like "uhh slap them with the Evil Asshole™ disorders!! no further thought given.")

Point #2: People who have messed up are not inhuman monsters who deserve no help or support

While I do think it's important for people to understand that patterns of toxic behaviors aren't the ONLY way NPD can present, I'm not going to let the conversation stop at "some of us are nice though!!"

Human beings aren't RPG characters who can be sorted into "monster" or "ally". Every single person has done something hurtful, has messed up, exhibits some sort of behavior that puts strain on their relationships sometimes.

So I'll bullet point some aspects of this that need to be talked about.

People without NPD also commonly exhibit toxic behaviors, but people ignore that nowadays. Either they armchair diagnose anyone who's slightly rude, or they only focus on it in pwNPD and ignore it in themselves or others. NTs can be jerks too, and they're probably less likely to acknowledge it than pwNPD who are constantly watching and checking themselves and analyzing their behaviors and attempting to do better.

Assuming that NPD makes someone abusive doesn't help anyone. Can it impact behaviors, and make it more difficult for people to be self-aware? Of course. But an important step in healing from any mental health condition (especially personality disorders, ime) is realizing that you're not inherently ""bad"", and that you can take responsibility for your actions and learn to deal with things in constructive ways. Just going "NPD makes people bad, full stop"- other than being a mean shitty thing to say- absolves people of guilt and asserts that there's no reason for them to try and improve.

Yes, it's okay for people to hate their abusers. Their abuser. Not an entire community of people who happen to (maybe) share a trait with them.

Building on the above point, people tend to go in defense mode when they hear things like "pwNPD who have acted in toxic ways can learn to improve their behavior", "people shouldn't be saying awful things about folks with this condition", etc. because they automatically try to apply this to their abuser. Interpersonal situations are very different from society-wide mental health access. No, don't stay with your abuser expecting them to change, and don't hold onto the hope that they will. No, don't censor yourself or your hatred or anger towards them. Just don't make blanket statements about a disorder that they may or may not have- blame their abusive actions, not their mental health.

"I hate you for your abusive actions and the harm that you caused me." =/= "I hate a group of people because of an inherent unchangeable part of them that's tied directly to severe childhood trauma they suffered. Because of it, they're evil and unlovable and are incapable of change. They're inhuman and will never experience real connection with others." ..........See the difference??

Even if there were a disorder with a 100% rate of toxic douchey behaviors, I'd want the conversation around it to be changed. I'd want different words to be used to divide up the spaces and conversations and resources, so that survivors of abusive or toxic behavior can get help, but that the disorder still has space to be treated. Otherwise, there are zero resources for healing. Nothing is being done to help these people or solve the issue. They're just told they may as well not try. They're blocked from healthcare entirely, despite how the entire point of being diagnosed with a condition is supposed to be to treat it.

There's a wide range of people who have NPD- it presents in many different ways, a person who has it may or may not exhibit harmful behaviors- but no one deserves to be denied treatment or told they're unlovable because of a condition they have that was formed from trauma.

Speak out against abusive behavior. Don't destroy healthcare for a medical condition.

#actuallynpd #npd stigma #narcissistic personality disorder

[liveontelevision]

Hi! im in love with your Lucifer fics. You newest one has me gripped and i cant wait for the next part.

You got me brainstorming more Lucifer fics ideas

I was thinking of one where the reader has been helping/supporting Charlie at the Hotel and is almost like a mother/parental figure to her, and when Lucifer arrives he acts cold/mean no matter how much she tries to be polite. But then he warm up to her after see how much the reader really cares about Charlie and then he finally realises hes in love with her.

♡

Thank you! I literally could write about him for hours (kinda have already) and I really liked this prompt, so here's just a lil' something for ya, anon ♡

Honey | Lucifer x Reader

No smut, just some cute fluff here-

♡♡♡

As soon as you arrived in Hell, your eyes were drawn to the drab-looking hotel just up the hill. And you flew to it like a moth to a TV screen. That being said, you've known Charlie and the other residents for as long as you've been dead. They've all seen you at your worst, having to be the unlucky few to explain your death. Although, Charlie's comfort really made the whole being dead thing much more palatable. During this time, while she's supported you, you've seen her through thick and thin as well. Pretty soon, you became an important part of her life, offering a more parental influence when she needed one. You didn't really die at an old age, but a lot went on in your lifetime to give you the maturity to comfort people that way and you were always happy to do it.

Considering your skill set, some of the residents went to you in the same fashion. A little task you took to, just to help out, was fixing up some articles of clothing for people. It was a great mindless task for you to do, considering Alastor wasn't a fan of having phones and TVs in the hotel. So you simply sat, humming a little tune as you fixed up something from Angel's wardrobe.

Your trance was broken, seeing a pair of slender legs in front of you. Following them up, you finally meet eyes with a nervous-looking Charlie. She's fidgeting with her fingers, still trying to find the courage to say whatever she came to you for.

"You need something, hun? You can talk to me, c'mere." With a sweet voice, you patted the cushion on the couch next to you and kept on working. She let out a heavy breath you didn't realize she was holding.

"Soooo... my dad is coming to visit and I - uh.." she still struggled to find her words. Considering you've barely been outside the hotel, you really didn't question how big of a deal Lucifer was. But to see Charlie getting flustered about a little visit from her own father did make you feel uneasy.

"I guess - I don't know, I'm just nervous, is all! It's not that big a deal, I mean, he's my dad, but also.. he's... my dad..?" You nodded your head.

"Seems like a big deal. He's the king of Hell, so it makes sense that you're nervous. Can I help with anything?" Acknowledging her feelings and making sure to keep your tone smooth, you finally set aside the mini skirt you were fixing up to face her.

"Oh! Um - I was wondering if you could bake something for everyone! Niffty's making cookies, but I think dad might enjoy something a little more.." You both thought back on the disturbing display of desserts Niffty had made for everyone in the past, it sent a chill down your spine. You nodded your head fast, taking a hold of her hands.

“Yeah, I'd love to! I'll make sure it's something your dad would like, too! How's that sound?" You absolutely loved to bake, and doing it for other people always made it even better. There was some pressure on you, considering who you were catering to, but remembering that this is for Charlie, kept any nerves at bay. Charlie, who just happened to be shedding a tear or two of relief, gave you a hug that would've snapped you in two if it had gone on any longer. You were used to those at this point.

The day went by fast, Charlie preparing and stressing over little decisions for her dad's visit. You got the OK to bake an apple pie. A specialty you would make when you were alive, you went all out. You'd always make the dough from scratch, soak the apples in a homemade cinnamon butter, and somehow managed to spiffy it up to a commercial extent. You were batting off Pentious and Niffy as best you could until he arrived.

You saw a side of Charlie during that visit that you haven't really seen before. She was nervous, sure, but it was clear she felt so defeated. Each little quip on sinners being hopeless or how Charlie shouldn't even bother in this "whole redemption deal" made you understand her paranoia more and more.

As Charlie introduced each of the staff and residents, Lucifer got distracted by the still steaming pie sitting on the table in front of everyone. He definitely wasn't the only one whose mouth was watering just by staring at it, but he was the one who bit the bullet, taking the first piece. 

"And this is -" a loud hum of satisfaction interrupted Charlie's introduction to Sir Pentious, who looked deflated at the change in topic.

"Charlie! Good golly - This is great!" With another bite and hum, you watched his eyes flutter shut for a moment. A little boost of confidence immediately making you giddy.

"Oh! Well, that's good! Because this is our other guest! She made it herself -" Charlie took a hold of your shoulders and dragged you to face Lucifer. You could feel the nervous tremble coming from her hands. You looked up at her for a moment and smiled, placing a hand over top of hers. It really did seem to calm her nerves. And for some reason, he didn't seem to like that. 

"Well - I'll eat anything with apples since they're obviously my favorite. It’s not that special." He tossed the half-finished plate back onto the table and wiped his hands clean. He ignored you.

"U-Uhm.. yeah, that's - that's everyone, I guess!" Charlie stammered, not expecting him to turn such a cold shoulder to you. He spent his time examining you. Considering he didn't even care enough to learn your name at that moment, he sure was taking his time looking you up and down.

"Well then!" He clasped his hands together after finally tearing his eyes off you. "How about a little tour?" He suggested, clearly not invested in the other sinners now. Charlie looked down at you and you nodded, starting to clean up some little things around you. It was a nervous habit you had, but it helped to keep your hands busy and your mind off the insulting interaction you just had to endure.

Charlie took Vaggie's hand and went on to give the tour. Once they were out of sight around the corner, you slumped your shoulders letting out a groan.

"Short king's givin' you the cold shoulder, huh?" Angel leaned on the back of the couch, crossing one leg over the other.

"Right? Okay, glad I'm not the only one who noticed that. Is something wrong with the pie..?" Looking over to Sir Pentious, who was licking the already empty pie tin clean, he quickly shook his head.

"Maybe's got a thing for ya." Angel teased, jabbing you with his elbow. You rolled your eyes, finally taking the pie tin from Pentious.

"He didn't even get my name, I'm sure that's not it. Whatever.. " you grumbled, taking any dishes you could to the kitchen to keep your mind from exploring that option.

The extermination day battle was here. You followed the armies who attacked the hoards of exorcists when they finally arrived. As the battle went on, you hated to admit it, you found yourself in awe watching Lucifer kick Adam's ass. The sight of his wings and the little V thing - and obviously his immense power, somehow managed to make you blush as you were attacking angels. Definitely a new sensation for you, with the bloodlust muddling your other senses, but it was easy to forget about it once the new hotel was renovated and everyone was finally settled in.

As everything went back to normal, you went back to helping Charlie with anything you could, drinking at the bar with everyone and generally things went back to the way they were. There was only one difference. Lucifer made the decision to stay at the hotel. It was commendable for sure, his change of heart to support Charlie through this change, but it only left you feeling conscious about everything you'd do when he was around. The underlying crush didn't help much. Or Angel's teasing about said crush.

You really did try, when you'd pass him the hallway, you'd always send him your most sincere smile. Or when you spotted him reading or working on anything, you'd try and spark any kind of conversation or ask if he needed help. He never needed help. He was always too busy to chat. You honestly couldn't remember a time he looked you in the eyes before. You bit your tongue. No need to worry Charlie, or anyone really, about some feud you possibly made up in your mind.

It was especially important to you to not stress Charlie right now. Starting the hotel back up was a big task alone, but the loss of Sir Pentious weighed on everyone. And Charlie took full blame for it. A late night, where she most likely stayed up to try and find any kind of hope for redemption, any speck of proof to bring sinners in, she found herself burnt out. Approaching the memorial for Pentious, you stood beside Charlie. You found her visiting it every now and then, and when you did, you knew she needed a check in. And you were right. Without a word, Charlie suddenly clung to you. She went on about how it was all her fault. How he was gone because of her. How nothing seems to be working and she's terrified that it's all for nothing.

It took a while for her to calm down, but you would never leave her like this. By now, the two of you had fallen to the ground, sitting on your knees.

"Charlie, you are doing your absolute best. It's okay to cry, you know that. Think of everything you've done for everyone else, I mean - Pen would've never sacrificed himself if it wasn't for his friends." You brushed a tear from her still wet and puffy eyes. "You did that. You gave him something worth dying for." It was a hard truth, but you hoped it was enough for her. She's done more for you than she'd ever know, and you'd do anything to give it back. You didn't realize, but before approaching Charlie, Lucifer was pacing a nearby corridor, battling the decision to go up to her himself. He hadn't said much to her since extermination day, and he had always been nervous about saying something wrong, making things worse. Before he had the chance to muster up the courage, you had swooped in. It confused him. He should've been jealous or hurt, that he wasn't able to calm her down himself. That you beat him to the punch. But he didn't really feel that way, no matter how much he tried to convince himself otherwise. Was it admiration? Sitting in the shadows until he assured Charlie was taken care of, he went back up to his workshop, flustered for a number of reasons.

There was one moment, where things started to look good. It was a regular night at the bar, you, Angel and Husk had gotten on the topic of your lives, looking at the positives which was a rarity. Charlie and Lucifer were nearby, Charlie enthralled in the discussions of what Earth was like.

"My homelife? It wasn't anything fancy, but.. um.. - oh I had a farm, actually! I ran it with my parents, it was.. nice." You hold onto your arms, a bittersweet smile on your face. With a light bulb going off in Charlie's head, she nudged you with her elbow.

"You didn't happen to have any birds or chickens or ducks - did you?" She hummed. She noticed the wedge between you and her dad, and it hurt her just as much as it hurt you. She's little miss "everyone should get along", of course, this hurt her. You didn't notice, but Lucifer peaked up at you for a split second before distracting himself by swaying the drink in his glass.

"Oh..? Oh! Yeah! Yes, actually! We raised a few ducklings that a neighbor gave us - we got them as eggs, so we got to see them grow up and everything!" Going on, telling a story about how you snuck one into your room to keep it as a pet, only to be scolded for it. You had the whole group in the palm of your hand. Including Lucifer. You met his eyes for just a moment, the twinkle in them immediately drawing you in. With a quick smile, he became flustered. He scoffed, pushing himself away from the bar and leaving. As much as that should've infuriated you, seeing those eyes and the growing redness across the apple of his cheeks felt like a win.

Since the hotel was newer, and word hadn't gotten out about Pentious's redemption yet, it was still vacant beside you, Angel, and occasionally Cherry Bomb. That gave the whole group a lot of time to enjoy the large space in the meantime.

Certain nights, Alastor would play the large, golden, piano that Lucifer had so generously created. This led to Charlie singing along to whatever he was playing, of course, and when Lucifer was in a good mood - or drunk - he would even pitch in. He'd sit atop the piano, his legs crossed, as he hiked the matching golden fiddle to his shoulder and played along. It was truly a sight to see. His skills were unmatched, but it still seemed to melt into the rest of the contributions. It was as if he invented the damn thing (He did).

This sort of became a tradition, when everyone was in a good mood and Alastor wasn't getting on Lucifer's nerves too much, everyone would join in, singing and dancing. It was rare, but Damn was it fun when it did happen. One of these nights, Alastor started off with a song that you knew, and had actually introduced to Charlie. She gasped as soon as she recognized the tune, pulling you close by both your hands to sing along. You had as good of a voice as anyone did, in a musical rendition of Hell, but you mainly stuck to harmonizing little things with Charlie. Swinging around with each other, until you were dizzy and laughing, you noticed that the room seemed a little empty.

Lucifer was seated where he usually was, on his phone. His fiddle was placed carefully at his side, and he was scrolling through his goddamn phone. 

"Don't feel like joining us, Your Highness?" You kept to titles since it was obvious he wasn't warmed up to you just yet. Even after living with you for a month or so.

"Mm. Don't know the song. It's not my cup of tea, just can't seem to get into it." He says bluntly, never looking up to you.

“Oh, come on! Just play along, it’s just for fun!” You slurred your words a bit, whatever you had been sipping throughout the night causing, what you would call, an outburst.

“Hm! Well, I’m not exactly here for your entertainment, am I? God forbid a sinner doesn't have fun in their eternal punishment.” The room went silent. You felt so defeated. You've been trying since the day you met him to try and at least get on good terms with him, but it seemed like he would even prefer a night with Alastor over you. Things like this never bugged you much, you tried so hard to not let it bug you, but when Charlie looked over to you, with those worried eyes, it was hard to keep back the bottled-up disappointment.

With a little sniffle and a quick wipe of your eyes with your sleeve, you start heading back up the newly decorated grand staircase, without a word to anyone.

"Heyyy - Dad..! I think you maybe.. might've... I don't know - hurt her feelings..? Would you wanna - " Charlie carefully approached her father, who immediately lit up and placed his device down when she spoke. "Could you talk to her? Maybe just check up on her..?" She was speaking barely above a whisper.

“You have to apologize. Um.. sir.” Vaggie finally blurted out. His smile was nervous, his eye twitching a bit at the concept. Taking in a deep breath, he rubbed the back of his neck, letting out a sad little laugh.

"Well, uh.. I don't know, Kiddo, maybe she's just tired." He muttered, obviously hesitant at the idea.

"Sounds like the king can't handle a little damsel in distress to me. Would you like me to comfort her, my dear?" Alastor was quick to chime in from the piano bench, offering a sympathetic smile to Charlie. Why did the concept of that make Lucifer’s blood boil?

"Oh fuck you, bambi, I can handle it." With a quick hop off of the piano top, he almost stormed up the stairs to find you. Definitely not what Charlie was hoping to motivate him, but she wasn't an idiot. She knew Alastor had his reasoning for that. She mouthed a little thank you to him, once Lucifer turned his back.

You were ecstatic to learn that Charlie worked an extensive library into the hotel. Walking into its large double doors, you almost struggled to see the back of the room with how full it was. You had a little corner you claimed as your own, leaving one of your blankets draped on the little loveseat there, and setting aside a pile of books you were still working through. It was a great place to calm yourself down after what had just happened.

Hearing heels click against the tile, you wrapped yourself tighter in your blanket as you pulled your legs up to your chest. 

"I'm fine Charlie, it's fine.. I just need a second, go back to the lobby." You shooed off the figure with one hand, wiping your face with the other.

"Ahha- Nope! Try again -" with a nervous chuckle, Lucifer greeted you with an awkward wave. Interrupting the silence by clearing his throat, he gestured to the seat next to you. With a quick nod, finally snapping out of your surprised state, you shifted your position to sit beside him. It wasn't exactly a two-person couch. Not for two people who might hate each other, at least. I mean it was a loveseat. He struggled to keep his distance, leaving your legs barely brushing together.

"Soooo.. you, uh- like.. reading..?" He asked after a long silence. You were mainly confused by his words, but simply nodded in response.

“Yeah it's - I-I love it in here.. There wasn’t anything like this on Earth, so this is nice." You managed to speak out, between sniffles. He agreed with a little hum, fidgeting with the ring on his finger.

“Glad you like it. It's uhh - just happens to be my personal collection.” He puffed out his chest, looking at his clawed nails with a little smirk on his face. He had no idea why he thought that would help, but it actually did a bit. when he looked your direction, you were slack-jawed in awe. The sight made him turn a bit red in the cheeks, quickly looking away, he patted the top of his legs to fill the silence.

“That's really cool! I guess it makes sense - considering you're older than the dawn of time- but, still. Thank you, I suppose. For letting me - I mean - us use it.” You rambled on for a moment your words became quieter the more you gushed.

“Is that supposed to be an insult?” He asked between laughter. You made him laugh. You hoped he didn't see the sparkle in your eyes at the notion. You stalled, lost in thought, before quickly shaking your head.

The two of you sat there for a moment, the awkward silence sitting a little more comfortably than before. Finally, Lucifer let out a sigh of defeat. 

"It’s my fault, right?" He asked, already knowing the answer.

"Oh, uh.. I guess so, but.. I mean, I'm kind of drunk so it might be something with that - but I'm fine, I swear." You waved your hands in an attempt to soothe the serious discussion. But Lucifer knew better than anyone what someone holding their true intentions back looks like.

"You're really good for Charlie. I.. I wish I could take care of her. Like you do." He admitted. It surprised you for a moment. Was that why he's been so cold to you? Was there some form of jealousy in there? Or was he really concerned that you would replace him in some fashion?

"C'mon, you're just saying that to make me feel better. I saw you on extermination day, none of this would even be here without that little pep talk, you’ve done more for her than you know, I think. Charlie.. she loves you." The words made him perk up a little. Maybe even a king needs reassurance sometimes.

"Oh- Um.. I guess she does, huh..?" You could hear his smile. The two of you sat in silence for a moment. You didn't even realize you had the smallest smile on your own face. But he did. With another nervous laugh, he hesitates before planting a hand on your leg, just above your knee. No time like the present, you suppose.

"I’m sorry. I really am. For.. everything. You're actually amazing. I-I mean it.." Without a response from you yet, he lets his gentle touch linger a moment longer. You leaned in towards him, the smile on your face turning sly.

"Yeah? You think so? I almost thought you hated me." You were teasing him. He's been so cold to you this whole time, you just had to take advantage of the moment. He turns a bit red, covering his mouth with his free hand as he clears his throat into his fist.

"Of course I don't.." He muttered.

"Soo, would you say you like me?" You drew out your words, walking your fingers up his arm.

"W-What? How - " He clamped his hand over his mouth before desperately trying to rationalize his thoughts, " Of course I do! I just said you're great with Charlie and I -ahh.. I love Charlie, so I like - " He coughs up his words, " - I liked your pie, that you made! And you have a good voice, too, and your little duck story was cute, so - " God bless this man's tendency to overshare when he's nervous. The alcohol definitely gave you the little boost of confidence you needed to question him like this, but you would be lying if you said you didn't notice his reactions to you whenever you weren't paying attention. Or whenever he thought you weren't paying attention. It finally dawned on you that some of those glares might have had some other motivations.

You knew when to reel it in, but considering his hand was still on your leg, he moved it up a bit even, you assumed he was okay with the teasing. Maybe even enjoying it. Delicately drawing your fingers across his jaw, to his chin, you pulled his gaze to meet yours. You could feel his hand tense at every little touch.

"You have really nice eyes, Luci-" He audibly gulped, tugging at his bowtie. "You’ve been avoiding looking at me for months.. I wish you'd look at me more." You almost pouted, your fingers still lingering under his chin. With the slightest movement, he followed your hand towards your face. He took his hand off your thigh for a moment, only for you to take a hold of it and place it on your back. He was the one who pulled you closer at this point.

“Y-you can't just say things like that.. it’s embarrassing..” He muttered, trying his best to not close the gap between your bodies. 

“Embarrassing? I’m not embarrassed, your highness. Are you? Do I.. make you nervous? Hmm?” You placed your hands just above his knees, leaning closer through your chest. Sucking in his lips, he did his best to stay silent, knowing he’d dig his own grave no matter how he answered.

“I just think you’re so pretty, Luci, I can't help myself.” Before he could properly react, you leaned in close enough for him to feel your breath against his ear. Damn, what did you drink? You could feel his hand on your back clenching, either to bring you closer or just out of sheer nerves. With a little hum against his ear, he let out the quietest whimper. It apparently took both of you by surprise, you leaned back to get a look at his face with wide eyes. Meeting his eyes this time sent you both into a blushing, nervous state.

With a deep breath, you cupped his face after brushing some of his golden locks back into place, then gave him the lightest kiss on his lips. You didn't even linger long enough for him to return it, and he was clearly distraught by it. You unwrapped yourself from your blanket, giving a dumbstruck Lucifer another quick peck on his forehead, before standing.

“I’m going back downstairs. Take your time, Hun!” You called out so sweetly as if you hadn't just left him a heated mess. 

Finally returning to the lobby, you walked with your chest puffed out, beckoning for another drink from Husk.

"Did.. did Dad check in on you? Are you okay?" Charlie carefully approached you, and was immediately disarmed by your grin.

"Yup! I feel much better now. He apologized and we had a little.. Discussion. Thanks, hun." You said sweetly, taking a sip of the drink Husk slid into your hand. Angel gave you a dirty glare, and after meeting his eyes you quickly looked away.

"Well great! Where is he? Maybe we can pick back up where we left off!" Charlie clasped her hands together enthusiastically.

"Here! I-I'm here! Great idea, honey, let's keep playing!" He tripped over himself, rushing into the room and hoping nobody saw him re-fastening his tie. Sending him another quick smile, his face clearly hadn't cooled from the past events. He nearly dropped his fiddle, but as soon as he prepared he picked up the same song that was left unfinished moments before.

♡♡♡

I wanted to get through some asks, but I'm still working on Suffer, no worries, my friends

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[jessicalprice]

christian universalism strikes again

(Reposted from Twitter)

So a rabbi I know came back from LA pretty jazzed about a Jewish addiction treatment facility there called Beit T'shuvah and so we talked about their approach and that got me curious about non-AA approaches to dealing with addiction which, my friends, was fascinating.

I’ll admit that almost everything I know about AA is more or less from The West Wing. I'm fortunate in that no one in my immediate family has dealt with substance abuse issues, and as far as I know, none of my close friends are alcoholics. My knowledge is pop culture knowledge.

But hearing about Beit T’shuvah was very interesting to me because:

I'd heard that a lot of people who aren't Christian have a hard time with AA because it's so Christian.

The difference in philosophy was subtle at first glance but actually paralleled a lot of the differences between Judaism and Christianity if you dug into it.

Anyway, I got curious about whether success rates were different for Christians vs. non-Christians and started googling. I didn't find much in the way of the data I was looking for, but I did find something a lot more disturbing, which is that the whole 12-step thing is not science-based. At all. For example:

The National Center on Addiction and Substance Abuse compared the current current state of addiction treatment to medicine in the early 1900s, when there weren't a lot of standards for who could practice medicine. In order to be a substance abuse counselor in many states, you don't need much more than a GED or high school diploma.

A 2006 survey found "no experimental studies unequivocally demonstrated the effectiveness of AA or TSF approaches for reducing alcohol dependence or problems."

And I want to make clear here that I'm not saying AA is bad--clearly it's helped people. The problem is that it's touted as a universal approach, which is a problem when it's not based on any sort of actual science. 

AA claims that its success rates for people who "really try" are 75%. (And boy does that mirror gaslighting diet language.) But the most precise study out there that's NOT coming from AA (https://amazon.com/dp/B00FIMWI1O) put actual success rates at 5-8%. One of the major textbooks on treating addiction ranks it at 38th out of 48 on its list of effective treatments.

So just like most fad diets, it fails for almost everyone who tries it, and then blames the individual for its failure.

A glaring issue is that the 12 steps don't really acknowledge--or provide any guidance or structure for dealing with--other mental/emotional health issues. That’s a giant problem when people with substance abuse issues have higher than average rates of those issues. (Take a moment to consider how the victim-blaming approach of “if you didn’t succeed, it’s because you didn’t try hard enough” is going to intersect with someone’s major depression.)

Now, if 12-step programs were just one available treatment approach out of many, this wouldn’t be that big of an issue.

But 12% of AA members are there because of court orders. Our legal system is requiring people to undergo treatment that is: 

Christian-based

Not scientifically supported

A failure for the vast majority of people

I mean, here's a pretty comprehensive breakdown that talks about the lack of scientific support for it, alternative treatments (like those in Finland, and naltrexone), and the fundamentalist origins of AA. 

The founder was a member of the Oxford Group, an evangelical organization that taught that all human problems stemmed from fear and selfishness, and could be solved by turning your life over to divine providence, basically. Sound familiar? He based AA on those principles, and given that the only alternative was "drying out" in a sanatorium, and that AA members would show up at bedsides there and invite inpatients to meetings, it must have looked really enlightened to people. In 2022, it bears a queasy resemblance to evangelizing to people in prison, literally a captive audience. 

To be fair--to their credit--they were some of the first people out there saying alcoholism was a disease, and not a moral failing. But they didn’t treat it like a disease when it came to testing treatment options:

Mann also collaborated with a physiologist named E. M. Jellinek. Mann was eager to bolster the scientific claims behind AA, and Jellinek wanted to make a name for himself in the growing field of alcohol research. In 1946, Jellinek published the results of a survey mailed to 1,600 AA members. Only 158 were returned. Jellinek and Mann jettisoned 45 that had been improperly completed and another 15 filled out by women, whose responses were so unlike the men’s that they risked complicating the results. From this small sample—98 men—Jellinek drew sweeping conclusions about the “phases of alcoholism,” which included an unavoidable succession of binges that led to blackouts, “indefinable fears,” and hitting bottom. Though the paper was filled with caveats about its lack of scientific rigor, it became AA gospel.

And then Senator Harold Hughes, who was an AA member, got Congress to establish the National Institute on Alcohol Abuse and Alcoholism, which promoted AA's beliefs, and sometimes suppressed research that conflicted with them:

In 1976, for instance, the Rand Corporation released a study of more than 2,000 men who had been patients at 44 different NIAAA-funded treatment centers. The report noted that 18 months after treatment, 22 percent of the men were drinking moderately. The authors concluded that it was possible for some alcohol-dependent men to return to controlled drinking. Researchers at the National Council on Alcoholism charged that the news would lead alcoholics to falsely believe they could drink safely. The NIAAA, which had funded the research, repudiated it. Rand repeated the study, this time looking over a four-year period. The results were similar.

The standard 28-day rehab stay, prescribed and insured:

Marvin D. Seppala, the chief medical officer at the Hazelden Betty Ford Foundation in Minnesota, one of the oldest inpatient rehab facilities in the country, described for me how 28 days became the norm: “In 1949, the founders found that it took about a week to get detoxed, another week to come around so [the patients] knew what they were up to, and after a couple of weeks they were doing well, and stable. That’s how it turned out to be 28 days. There’s no magic in it.”

The last sentence here (bolded for emphasis) is especially chilling. 

That may be heartening, but it’s not science. As the rehab industry began expanding in the 1970s, its profit motives dovetailed nicely with AA’s view that counseling could be delivered by people who had themselves struggled with addiction, rather than by highly trained (and highly paid) doctors and mental-health professionals. No other area of medicine or counseling makes such allowances.

There is no mandatory national certification exam for addiction counselors. The 2012 Columbia University report on addiction medicine found that only six states required alcohol- and substance-abuse counselors to have at least a bachelor’s degree and that only one state, Vermont, required a master’s degree. Fourteen states had no license requirements whatsoever—not even a GED or an introductory training course was necessary—and yet counselors are often called on by the judicial system and medical boards to give expert opinions on their clients’ prospects for recovery.

And, again, the idea that this is the One True And Only Way to deal with alcohol abuse leads to medical professionals ignoring research and treatment options that could be helping people. They are, in essence, taking all this completely on faith. 

There has been some progress: the Hazelden center began prescribing naltrexone and acamprosate to patients in 2003. But this makes Hazelden a pioneer among rehab centers. “Everyone has a bias,” Marvin Seppala, the chief medical officer, told me. “I honestly thought AA was the only way anyone could ever get sober, but I learned that I was wrong.”

Stephanie O’Malley, a clinical researcher in psychiatry at Yale who has studied the use of naltrexone and other drugs for alcohol-use disorder for more than two decades, says naltrexone’s limited use is “baffling.”

“There was never any campaign for this medication that said, ‘Ask your doctor,’ ” she says. “There was never any attempt to reach consumers.” Few doctors accepted that it was possible to treat alcohol-use disorder with a pill. And now that naltrexone is available in an inexpensive generic form, pharmaceutical companies have little incentive to promote it.

I'm not saying that AA is bad. I'm saying its hegemony is bad. It clearly is effective for some people--a minority of people. But it's not for the majority of people, and that's a problem when it's being prescribed by courts (and doctors) as if it's a one-size-fits-all approach.

It’s not an accident that a Christian approach to treating addiction presents itself as the One True Way For All Humankind, insists that courts and doctors privilege it, demands that people take its effectiveness on faith, and blames anyone for whom it doesn’t work for not believing/trying hard enough.

Hegemony is a problem. 

(Photo credit: Pixabay)

#christian hegemony #addiction #christian supremacy #aa #maybe courts should be recommending treatment with a better than 8% success rate and actual science behind them just saying

[chastiefoul]

hugging them out of nowhere.

fluff. only fluff. like, tooth-rotting fluff.

characters: xiao, ayato, zhongli, diluc, itto, kaeya, aether.

Xiao

His whole body tensed up, he thought something was wrong until he saw the playful smile on your lips. When you didn’t show any sign of letting go soon, he just sighed in fondness, awkwardly sneaking his arms around your waist. Eventually, as if realizing that it was much needed by the yaksha, he slowly nuzzled into your neck, resting his head there.

Would never admit it but he loves hugging you, so soft, so gentle, and so different from everything he’s used to dealing with.

Ayato

He had been buried in so many paper work, while it was never his intention to neglect you, you couldn’t help but feel a little lonely. Yet since it’d seemed a tad selfish to say to him, you just quietly approach him and hugged him from behind, putting your head on his back. Ayato didn’t mind a single bit, he even hums a little acknowledging that your gesture was more than welcomed. After a few minutes of just resting your head there, he finally reached a point in his progress that he’s able to take a break. He turned around, and was quick to bring you to his chest, his softener scent fills up your nose, he put his arms around you and held you close.

It looked like he needed that hug as much as you did.

Zhongli

Zhongli always accepts any kind or form of affection you gave him, and this was no different. You had tackled him in a rather violent hug, but not too much that it’d hurt anybody. But also he is the god of rock, obviously a mere tumble won’t hurt him. “Careful dear, you might fall.” He chuckled at your enthusiasm, his hands already working wonders along your hair, rubbing a soothing gesture on your back. You couldn’t help but relax into the hug, feeling incredibly happy and so peaceful at the same time.

Anytime and anywhere, if you need him, he’ll be there.

Diluc

Man’s touch-starved, obviously don’t like to admit it. So when he had come home to the Winery barely stepping a foot inside and you’d already entrapped him with your embrace, he was only able to smile ever so softly. “Welcome home,” you said happily, kissing him below the eye. He was over the moon, which would be hard to figure out based on his expression if it wasn’t for the subtlest pink color painted his cheeks, and the completely love-struck gaze fixated on you.

You wouldn’t dare point it out though, as you’re sure you were looking at him the same exact way.

Itto

Saw your hug attack coming from miles away, before you could even touch him he had managed to capture you and spun you around happily without a care. Although he should be, considering he often forgot how strong he is. “Ahh! Itto put me down, put me down!!” You screamed, feeling the dizziness coming. “Hehe, sorry, sorry!” He said, the lack of remorse on his tone was clear as a day.

But of course you couldn’t stay mad at him for more than three seconds. “Itto my love, my world, my everything. I am begging for you to be mindful about your strength next time.” You didn’t even know why you said that, it did never worked and it probably won’t ever. Still, the sight of him being so excited about seeing you always sent a fuzzy feeling inside your chest. “Okay, anything for my sunshine!!!” He replied, back to hugging you so tight, you could not help but only sigh in utmost fondness.

Never change Itto, never change.

Kaeya

“Oh what is this, am I suddenly under attack?” Kaeya hums a playful reply, fully enjoying the hug you just gave him. You just giggled, he could almost feel he has melted because of the lovely laugh, which would not be a problem since he could just freeze himself right away again. He sneaked his hands and rested them just under your spine, swaying you both left and right gently, probably over a quiet tune he had on his mind. He had his eyes closed, this feels so right, so perfect.

Yeah, this is home. He thought.

Aether

Was taken aback at first, but quickly reciprocated on realizing that it’s you, just as enthusiastic. He was genuinely happy because of your touch, taking in the hug for another minute before showing a big smile and went to pepper your face with kisses, you laughed at the ticklish feather-light contacts. Aether literally had sparkles in his eyes watching you in delight. You brought him so much joy, it was evident on the way he was laughing along with you care-freely.

If Paimon did not know love before, I’d say she should have a good idea about it now after seeing you both.

#genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin impact x you #genshin scenarios #genshin fluff #genshin fanfic #genshin impact x reader #genshin x you #xiao x reader #xiao genshin impact #ayato x y/n #ayato fluff #ayato x reader #zhongli x y/n #zhongli genshin impact #zhongli x reader #diluc x reader #diluc imagines #diluc x you #itto scenarios #itto x y/n #itto x reader #kaeya headcanons #kaeya x y/n #kaeya fluff #kaeya x reader #aether x reader #aether x you