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dancingbirdie · 7 months

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Behold my labor of love: Astarion SMUT.

This idea came to me after writing my last fic Something Imagined / Something Real. I wanted to backtrack and reimagine Astarion and Tav's first night together after the tiefling party.

If smut is not your thing, no worries! You can scroll down to the first set of asterisks (***) to avoid reading those parts. You don't miss much at all plot-wise.

This is my first time ever writing smut. Please be kind. And I hope you enjoy!

EDIT: This is a flashback fic! Part 2 is Something Imagined / Something Real. And subsequent vignettes to come!

I Want It To Be You

Rating: Mature/NSFW

Pairing: Astarion x f!Tav

Word Count: 5.2K

Warnings: Detailed description of consensual sex, Tav's first time having sex, descriptions and references to Astarion's trauma/trauma responses, description of panic attack/anxiety, minor Act 1 and Act 2 spoilers, FLUFF, angst

“Are you absolutely certain about this? About… me?”

If she weren’t already lying naked in his arms, she would have shed her clothes for him for that response alone. He wasn’t treating her like some oddity. And he was honoring her decision. It was more than anything Tav had dared hope for.

Her eyes welled with tears that threatened to fall. She laughed, suddenly elated, before nodding her head vigorously.

“I’m sure, Astarion,” she confirmed. “I want this to be with you.”

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

TWO WEEKS AGO

THE NIGHT OF THE TIEFLING PARTY

Let’s wait until things quiet down. Once the others are asleep, we’ll find each other.

Astarion’s parting words replayed over and over again in her head as she padded quietly through the woods, away from the campsite. From the comfort and familiarity of the party. They hadn’t agreed on a meeting place, but Tav assumed his heightened senses would locate her soon enough. She was grateful for the extra moments to herself. Her stomach was knotted from nerves and anticipation for what the night might bring.

She hadn’t told him that she was a virgin. He probably deserved to know, she realized that, but she hadn’t wanted him to change his mind just because he’d be taking something no one else had before. It was her choice, her body to give, she reasoned to herself. Whether for the first time or the hundredth time, it shouldn’t matter. Right?

Her past experiences certainly influenced her reticence. Divulging that particular information about herself had resulted in people immediately halting romantic pursuits with her, or leering at her like she was some sort of top-shelf prize they were about to take home. She didn’t want to know if, or where, Astarion might land on that spectrum. Didn’t think her heart could take either reaction from him. Besides, she’d read enough of those dirty romance tomes and scrolls throughout her life (for educational purposes, of course, she justified to herself) to have a general understanding of what happens during sex. Surely she could bluff her way through this. Right?

She wanted to please him. Wanted him to want her as much as she wanted him. It was no secret that Astarion had quickly become her favorite companion in this unlikely band of heroes she was traveling with. He was absolutely gorgeous, of course, but the longer she lingered around him, the less that seemed to matter. He was funny, in a devilish sort of way. Intelligent and cunning. Perceptive. And, while it was obvious that it unsettled the rest of the group, she genuinely appreciated how he prioritized his own self before bending over backwards to help someone else. Secretly, she wished she could emulate that a bit more in her own life, but years and years of people pleasing to win what scraps of affection she could was a hard habit to break.

Clearly she was no closer to doing so, as there she stood. In the middle of a forest. Preparing for a midnight tryst with a person she had just met but grown to genuinely care for. And she wasn’t even sure that he would, or wanted to, return her sentiments.

“There you are. I’ve been waiting.”

Astarion’s voice broke the mundane quiet of the forest that had lulled her into such ruminations. She turned toward the direction she had heard him speak and marveled at the sight of him slipping gracefully between the trees, moving ever slowly toward her.

He had removed his shirt and was clad only in his leather breeches and boots. His alabaster skin practically glowed in the silvery light of the moon. He was the most beautiful person Tav thought she had ever laid eyes on, and it wasn’t only because she could now see the taut, sinewy muscles of his abdomen. He was perfectly fit in an elegant sort of way. Not like Halsin, with large bulging biceps, thick torso and sturdy legs. No, Astarion was like a leopard. Lithe, agile, regal even. And his face. Gods, the poets and painters could opine for centuries on his beautiful face without ever growing weary.

“Is that so?” Tav called out in reply, walking to close the distance between them. By her estimate, she sounded much braver than she felt. Good.

Astarion nodded, raising one hand to cup her cheek. “Waiting since the moment I set eyes on you. Waiting to have you,” he finished, the pad of his thumb grazing sensually across her lower lip.

“You don’t have me yet,” she whispered teasingly, although both of them were clearly aware of how she had shivered when he touched her. How her head bowed into his touch, like a lovesick little thing.

“Don’t I?” he smirked. “You’re here. And I don’t think you want to talk.” He stepped closer, completely absolving them both of any personal space. His free hand came to rest along the curve of her waist.

“I think you want to be known. To be tasted.” He purred, lowering his head so that his lips ghosted the shell of her ear while he spoke.

Tav was thankful for the steadiness of his hands on her. His insinuations alone were quickly rendering her a quaking mess. But she didn’t want to be a selfish lover, and so she collected herself enough to pose a question in return.

“What do you want, Astarion?” she asked, bringing a hand to rest softly against his chest, over his heart.

She noted the way his brows drew down briefly, seeming almost confused by her question. But as quick as it came, the expression vanished, replaced by something much more confident. More assertive.

“What do any of us want?” he breathed. “Pleasure. Yours. Mine. Our collective ecstasy.”

Gently, so very gently, he began to trail hot, open-mouth kisses down the column of her neck. Tav’s breath caught audibly in her throat, and Astarion hummed in approval at her response.

“That’s what you want, isn’t it?,” he murmured into the crook of her neck. “To lose yourself in me?”

It was fast becoming difficult for her to string two thoughts together. Astarion touching her like this sent shockwaves throughout her body. That curious heat she’d only known from touching herself began to kindle low in her belly. She clenched her thighs together subconsciously, trying to sate that feeling the fire was stirring up inside her. Astarion noticed her squirming, to his immense satisfaction.

“Well?” he coaxed in between kisses across her collarbone. His prompting reminded Tav that she had yet to answer his question, so lost was she in the feeling of his cool lips against her rapidly warming skin.

“I want to be with you. Share this night with you,” she answered honestly, unable to spare enough brain capacity to consider whether or not it was a good idea to be so forthcoming.

“Such a charitable little thing,” he chuckled. “How could I deny you?”

And then his mouth captured hers. It was a searing, passionate kiss. A kiss that promised so much more pleasure to come. One that Tav had never known before, despite having partaken in her fair share of kisses over the years. But this kiss? This was the kiss of time-fated lovers. And Tav was desperate to match Astarion’s pace, desperate to feel more, more, more.

She moaned as he ran his tongue lightly against the seam of her lips, granting him entry to fully sweep in and plunder her mouth proper. Her fingers carded through his silvery blonde curls, nails scraping lightly against his scalp. He groaned in response, the sound vibrating in her mouth.

She finally was forced to break their kiss after a few moments, hungrily gulping in air to alleviate her starving lungs. Astarion moved to ravage her neck once more, licking and sucking the soft delicate skin there. He gripped her ass possessively as he did so, walking her backwards until he was pressing her into the nearest tree.

He lifted a knee to knock her legs apart before raising it higher to press into the juncture of her thighs. He delighted at how Tav immediately parted her legs for him, how she moaned from the pressure, how she subconsciously began grinding against him.

“Look at you, you naughty thing” he crooned in her ear. “Riding my leg for some relief?”

Primal behavior called out, a scarlet blush immediately bloomed on Tav’s neck and cheeks. It only goaded Astarion further.

“Go on then, darling. Rut against me. But I’m getting these lovely tits free first,” he whispered.

He began undoing the laces on the front of her corset. Tav watched his progress, entranced by the gracefulness of his long, slender fingers. She was nearly trembling with anticipation. Once finished, she helped him extract her from the offending garment and allowed him to lift her chemise up, over her head, so that she was fully bare from the waist up. The cool night air turned her skin to gooseflesh, her nipples hardening.

The sensation roused her lust-addled brain enough to realize just how vulnerable she was, standing there half-naked before him. She’d never been so exposed to another person before. Her fingers fluttered as she fought the sudden bout of nerves that insisted she cover her breasts from view.

“Don’t you dare,” Astarion growled, plainly reading the self-conscious expression on her face. “I’ve been dying to see these for days now,” he continued, cupping one full breast and flicking her nipple lightly with his thumb.

It sent a pulse thrumming directly to her core, and Tav moaned openly at the sensation. She could feel her simple linen breeches were completely drenched, was certain she was also dampening Astarion’s leg as she continued to grind against him.

Astarion chuckled, clearly pleased by her reaction.

“So responsive,” he whispered before lowering his mouth to latch onto her breast. He sucked lightly, while his hand continued its assault on the other. She fisted his hair in one hand, kissing the top of his head lovingly while he worked her into a frenzy.

Tav felt like she was quickly losing any ability to maintain balance. Her body was aching, whining, for more. She wanted to be laid out on the ground, wanted him to press her into the soft earth, taking everything.

“Astarion, please,” she panted, pulling at his curls. He groaned in response, releasing her nipple from his mouth.

“Please what, pet?” he teased, kissing and licking up her sternum.

“I need… more,” she whined, bucking against his leg.

He huffed a laugh before sweeping her up in one smooth motion and lowering her to the soft grass beneath their feet.

He began to loosen the fastenings of her breeches with a practiced ease. Tav watched, breathless, as he slid the fabric down her thighs, his mouth following with indolent, open-mouthed kisses. Each touch of his lips on her heated skin left her skin tingling, her hips canting slightly into the open air.

Finally bare before him, she watched as Astarion surveyed her from where she lay beneath him. In nearly all respects, he looked primed and ready to ravage her. His nostrils flared, detecting the heady scent of her arousal. His chest rose and fell with shallow, ragged breaths. For the first time, she took note of the considerable erection straining against the leathers he still wore.

After a moment, he came down to lie beside her, pulling her onto her side so that her chest was pressed flush against his. He trailed a hand down her side, over the rise and fall of her curves, until he reached her thigh. He hiked her leg onto his hip.

But something was off. Amid her clouded thoughts, Tav thought she could sense it, even if she couldn’t precisely put a finger on it. Perhaps it was the look in his eyes? Or the perfect nature of his behavior? He seemed almost too practiced, too formulaic. Like an actor who’s rehearsed their lines to the point that the words have lost their meaning. He was there with her, but somehow he wasn’t, at the same time.

“Are you all right?” Tav asked in a hushed voice, lifting a hand to cup his neck. She rubbed soothing circles with her thumb across his jawline.

“I’m more than all right, darling,” he replied with a smirk, squeezing her ass lightly.

“You seem like… you’re not wholly present,” she explained.

“It’s difficult to decide what I’d like to do to you first,” he reasoned, sidestepping her unspoken question. “I’m torn between tasting you with my tongue, or fucking you with my fingers,” he smirked.

Before she could respond, his fingers took an experimental swipe between her folds. She gasped at the feeling, her hips bucking against him. She watched, speechless, as he lifted that hand to suck the wetness from his fingers. Her wetness. In his mouth.

He groaned in approval. “Mmm. You’re pure sweetness, darling.”

All thoughts eddied from her mind. A singular, primal focus took over, and she suddenly clutched at Astarion’s neck with newfound ferocity.

He seemed to know exactly how his behavior had affected her, if his impish grin was anything to go by. He lowered his hand to swipe against her once again, his fingers stopping to circle that sensitive bud at the apex of her thighs. Tav jerked in response, but Astarion had been prepared for it. He used his other arm to brace against her back, locking her in place against him.

As she writhed against his hand, he repositioned himself to insert a finger inside her. She was deliciously warm and soaking wet. Soft, like velvet. His thumb continued to circle her clit, eliciting a long, low moan from Tav. Embarrassed, she attempted to muffle her voice by ducking her face into his chest.

He chuckled again. “That’s it, sweet one. Let me hear you,” he goaded her. Her moans pitched higher in response.

After a few moments of pistoning in and out of her, he inserted a second finger. But despite how drenched she was, he met considerable resistance, to his surprise. He stilled his fingers in response, uncertain.

It took a moment for Tav to register that Astarion had stopped moving inside her. Caught somewhere between discomfort and satisfaction, the increased sense of fullness his two fingers brought was strange but not altogether unwelcome. She exhaled, but it came out as more of a hiss than a sigh. After a moment of stillness, she raised her head to look at him.

“What is it?” she questioned..

“You’ve never done this before, have you?” Astarion murmured.

Tav flushed. He’d realized, despite her best efforts to cover up that truth. Absently, she wondered what had given her away.

She said nothing at first, just studied him. He didn’t seem angry. But then again, she had quickly learned that Astarion was very skilled at masking his true feelings.

“No. I haven’t,” she admitted.

At her reply, he gently removed his fingers from inside her. He moved his hand to clutch her hip instead.

She sighed, rolling onto her back, gazing up at the stars. “Is that going to be a problem for you?”

Silence. It felt deafening in her ears. But then –

“I’m a bad choice, darling,” he replied, his thumb rubbing absentmindedly over her hip bone. She failed to see the sad smile that graced his mouth. “A terrible choice, really. For your first time.”

“It’s my decision,” she retorted, lolling her head to the side so she could look him straight in the eyes. “I want it to be you, Astarion. But if this is going to be a… problem for you, or become some ordeal where you feel guilty or weirdly triumphant, then we can just–”

“It’s not a problem for me. It’s your decision,” he affirmed softly, interrupting the beginning of her tirade. Some unknown emotion flitted across his features. He schooled his expression before she could really identify it.

“But I have to ask,” he continued, studying her seriously. “Are you absolutely certain about this? About… me?”

Her eyes welled with tears that threatened to fall. She laughed, suddenly elated, before nodding her head vigorously.

“I’m sure, Astarion,” she confirmed. “I want this to be with you.”

His eyes softened, obviously touched by her response. It was the first time tonight, she realized, that he had appeared vulnerable to her. He was staring at her as though he were seeing her for the first time. Like he couldn’t believe that the woman between his arms was real.

Without another word, he captured her mouth in a passionate kiss. His tongue swept in her mouth at the same time he inserted his fingers again, tasting her gasp of pleasure. His thumb began circling her clit once more, and Tav was powerless to silence her moans.

“Good. So good, sweet girl,” he whispered in her ear after a few moments. “You’re so close.”

She let loose a whine, squeezing her eyes shut as she chased that ever-nearing precipice inside her. Astarion’s voice in her ear only pushed her that much closer.

“That’s it. Come for me,” he urged, and she felt her orgasm rip through her at his words. Stars collided behind her eyes as she tumbled from that cliff of pleasure, Astarion holding her and whispering soft praises as she floated back down to earth.

Eventually her eyes fluttered open to see Astarion smiling openly at her. She felt her lips stretch up to return his grin.

“That was… incredible,” she breathed.

He huffed a soft laugh. “I’m not nearly finished with you. Unless you’d like to sto–”

“No,” Tav blurted, a little too loudly, interrupting him. “No. I want more. Please. Show me.”

“Of course, darling” Astarion promised, planting a soft kiss on her forehead. He gently released her and stood, beginning to remove his own clothing. Tav watched him brazenly, drinking in the sight of him.

She moaned softly as he removed his breeches, his impressive length springing free. He remained still, allowing her to take in the sight of him fully naked before her. Curious, she sat up and lifted a hand to wrap around him. She marveled at the way he felt. Like velvet-wrapped steel. She gave a tentative stroke, thrilling as he groaned in response. She stroked him again, harder, intent on learning how to give him as much pleasure as he’d already given her.

But he stayed her wrist with a gentle touch of his hand. She paused, looking up at him, confused.

“As exquisite as teaching you how to stroke me would be,” he explained in a sultry voice, “I’m much more interested in teaching you something else tonight.”

Tav nodded mutely, lying back once more. She opened her legs for him to return to her. Astarion smiled, lowering himself on top of her. He braced his forearms on either side of her head, one hand absently combing through her hair. His hips fit perfectly in the cradle of her thighs, and she moaned as she felt him gently nudge against her entrance.

“This is going to hurt at first,” he explained in a hushed whisper. She nodded, her breathing a bit uneven in anticipation of what would come next.

“But then it will stop. You’ll stretch around me. And then it will feel good,” he continued.

She nodded again, trying to remain focused on his words. But the primal part of her mind was warring against her. And it was winning. She subconsciously bucked her hips into him, marveling as she felt him slip between her folds just slightly. He hissed at the sensation, clenching his jaw.

“Greedy little thing,” he chastised teasingly. “All right, enough talking. But you will tell me if you need to stop, yes?”

“Yes,” she breathed. “Yes, I promise.”

“Good girl,” he purred.

And then slowly, gently, he sheathed himself fully inside her with a groan.

Tav gasped in response. It was unlike any feeling she had ever felt before. Astarion had been right; it was painful at first. A pinching sensation. A mind-bending feeling of fullness. But then, but then, the feeling was phenomenal. She felt her walls stretch to accommodate him, felt herself clench around him, accepting him in his entirety.

Astarion’s head dropped to the crook of her neck. His whole body trembled, as if it was taking all his restraint to remain still so she could grow accustomed to him.

She canted her hips into him a bit, testing the waters. He groaned again in response, and she released a breathy chuckle.

He raised his head at the sound, peering down at her. “You little minx,” he breathed. “You have no idea what you’ve started.”

She thrilled at his words, crying out in ecstasy as he began to thrust in and out of her. The pace he set was addicting; the rhythm had her pushing her hips up to meet him, her legs locked around his back to pull him closer.

“You’re taking me so, so well, darling,” Astarion grunted, ratcheting up his pace. “You’re so tight. So. Perfectly. Fucking. Tight.”

His words were a fuel to her flame. She cried out his name again and again as he continued to rut into her, reveling in the feeling of him claiming her completely and totally. She was lost to the sensations, adrift in the fullness of Astarion inside her.

Finally, or perhaps all too soon, she felt his pace begin to grow more erratic. His hips lost their rhythmic pumping. His groans grew louder. Sensing his release was close, Tav clutched him tighter, digging her heels in his back to pull him closer, clenching around his length inside her.

“Yes, yes, FUCK,” he barked all at once, and her eyes rolled back into her head as he slammed himself to the hilt inside of her one final time. She could feel his release spilling inside her.

Lost for words, she simply held Astarion as he half-collapsed on top of her, one arm still braced on the ground beside her head. Listless, euphoric, and utterly at peace, Tav raised one arm to gently caress his back, listening to his erratic breaths slow. Distantly, she noted the raised, rough sensation of scars on his upper back, but she was too consumed by their mutual pleasure to give it a further thought.

Eventually, Astarion slipped out of her. He lowered himself to lie down beside her, curling one arm around her waist.

Tav closed her eyes and curled into his side, suddenly overcome with drowsiness. “Thank you, Astarion” she whispered faintly.

“For what, my darling?” he crooned, tucking an errant curl behind her ear.

“For making my first time so wonderful,” she replied.

She was asleep before he could think of a sufficient response.

***

The panic was a monstrous thing. Clawing at his chest, its vice-like grip squeezing his lungs until inhaling felt like breathing through a reed. He could barely think. Barely move. Barely registered the lovely woman still sleeping peacefully beside him.

The part of his brain that wasn’t frozen in fear chastised himself for behaving this way. He had taken plenty of virgins before. In fact, he had sought them out specifically. They were a much easier prey. They became attached to him so quickly, attributed so much more meaning to their first bout of lovemaking than perhaps more… seasoned individuals.

He should have been elated. She was obviously besotted with him. His plan to ensure her loyalty was moving forward without a hitch. So then why was he feeling so horrible?

He turned to observe Tav. So close to him and yet so far away. Swept into that blissful sleep that continued to elude him. He watched her chest rise and fall with deep, steady breaths. Watched her eyelids twitch as her mind made its way through some dream. She was so very vulnerable in this position. And so very trusting. Of him, of all people.

Astarion didn’t like many people. But he had developed a fondness for Tav, despite the short period of time they had known one another. She treated him like a person, not a monster. Not like the others in their party. She seemed to accept him for who he was, cynicism and vanity and all. He couldn’t remember ever knowing someone as kind to him as she was. She was… incredible.

And then it struck him. He was developing… something… for her. Feelings? Affection? The sentiments were so foreign to him, he didn’t even know what to call it.

But the realization caused panic to clutch him even tighter. No. He couldn’t feel this way. He wouldn’t.

This thing with Tav was purely transactional. It had to be. There was no other viable option. She had needed to feel something with someone. He had needed to secure an ally. That was all.

That is all this is, he thought, quashing the weak sentimental part of his mind.

And come morning, he resolved he would make certain that that was all this was for her as well.

***

Tav woke to the sound of birds chirping, high in the trees above her. The early morning sunlight filtered in through the forest, dappling her skin and warming her in the places that it touched. Opening her eyes, she spied Astarion, already dressed and standing a few paces in front of her.

His back was facing her, his face lifted toward the sun. She noted how he held his arms outstretched by his sides, palms facing up as though he were trying to collect all the sunlight pouring into their little grove. Despite his preternatural sense of hearing, he didn’t seem to be aware that she’d awoken, so lost was he in his enjoyment of the sun’s rays.

Tav’s heart nearly swelled to bursting as she watched him. Before all of this, he hadn’t felt the sunlight on his skin in over 200 years. Now, he was reveling in it. His joy was such an innocent, pure thing.

How many times had Tav taken the sun warming her skin for granted? Probably all of her life, she supposed. To see someone so appreciative of something so utterly mundane to her… well, it was a sobering reminder to acknowledge those little pleasures in life, especially the ones that seemed so constant to her.

She also took the time to study the strange pattern of scars on his back. She had felt some of the rough ridges last night, as she clutched him closer while he spilled himself inside her. But she hadn’t realized just how intricate and intentional the markings were. The sight of them sparked a rage inside her. Whoever the monster was who’d done this to him, they deserved to pay a price worse than death.

Someday soon, she swore she would ask him about those markings. But not today. Not right now. Not in the aftermath of spending such a wonderful night together. No, the only thing she wanted for them both today was to revel in post-coital bliss.

Not wishing to startle him, Tav intentionally laid back to stretch out her blissfully sore muscles, rustling the grass and fallen leaves around her. She threw in a halfhearted yawn for good measure. Secretly, she hoped he would return to her, take her again in this quiet forest, beneath the warmth of the sun.

“You sleep light,” Astarion chuckled, half-turning to speak to her but not meeting her gaze. “I thought you’d be exhausted after last night.”

Tav hesitated at his tone. It wasn’t cold per se, but he sounded much more guarded than he had been last night. Perhaps she was just being extra sensitive in light of what they had shared, she reasoned.

“Did you enjoy it?” she asked hesitantly. She watched his back, waiting for a reply. “It felt like… you weren’t truly there…” she added, after a beat of silence.

“I was… holding back a little, it’s true,” he finally responded. “I didn’t want to lose control. Delicious as you were… I didn’t want to go too far.”

“Oh, I see,” Tav replied, a bit dismayed. “I’m sorry you felt that way.”

Astarion turned and gave her a trademark smirk. “Think nothing of it, darling. Now,” he intoned, clapping his hands together. “Shall we get on? We’ve wasted enough time already.”

The words were like a lance to her heart.

“I… I didn’t consider it a waste,” she murmured, trying with some difficulty to hide her hurt.

“I didn’t mean it that way,” Astarion huffed. “I just meant I’d like to break camp and get out of here before those tieflings drag us into another one of their messes.”

“Sure, of course,” Tav nodded, smiling up at him, though it came across as more of a grimace. Then she broke eye contact, bending over under the guise of collecting her discarded clothing. Really, she didn’t think she could look at him a moment longer without crying.

“I still need to dress,” she said, attempting a casual sort of air. “You go ahead without me.”

She sensed rather than saw Astarion hesitate at her suggestion.

“Are you sure? We’re a fair walk from camp. I can spare a few moments and wait.”

“Positive,” she replied with false cheer. “Go on ahead. The last thing either of us need is the party jeering at us if we’d return together.”

“Fair point,” Astarion conceded. “All right. Then… I’ll see you, back at camp.” Then he was walking away, back toward the direction of their fellow party members.

Tav waited until she could no longer hear his footsteps before she let loose a quiet sob. She wasn’t exactly sure why she was crying. Maybe it was just the stress of everything that had finally overwhelmed her. Maybe it was how abysmally this morning had gone. She didn’t know how she’d expected the morning after a sexual tryst to go, but she certainly hadn’t imagined what had just taken place. She hadn’t expected Astarion to slip that aloof mask he wore so well immediately back on, not when it was still just the two of them here.

Then again, she reasoned, perhaps there was a perfectly justifiable reason for his actions. They barely knew one another, after all. He didn’t owe her anything beyond general respect. They hadn’t made any promises or ties to one another. They had simply agreed on a night of pleasure. That night had passed on. She should move on as well. Right?

But she had hoped. Oh, she had hoped. That maybe last night could have been the start of something new for her. For both of them. She knew she was a dreamer at heart. But still, part of her couldn’t help but hope that some silver lining would come out of all of this mess.

In any case, she knew she needed to pull herself together before reentering the camp. She would not let anyone see her cry, especially Astarion. So she remained standing in the grove for a few moments longer, collecting herself.

She forced her mind to focus on anything, anything else. She counted the birds she saw flitting amongst the tree limbs. She watched leaves swirling in their light, airy dance toward the ground. And she said a silent prayer to whatever gods were out there and possibly listening. She prayed that everything would work out the way it was meant to be.

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bluebeary-jay · 10 months

Text

scattered thoughts / sharp focus

Joel Miller x f!Reader

Summary: Joel is taken away from you and upon finding him almost-dead... something in you snaps ((kinda part 2 to clouded judgment / clear mind, but you don't necessarily need to read that one))

Tags: ANGST, angst with happy ending, near death experiences, Joel has surprisingly little screen time but you'll see he was there in spirit

Warnings: REALLY graphic descriptions of violence, small panic attacks, KINDA torture(?) 😳, choking, lemme know if i missed something

Word count: 7.5K

A/N: i can't believe i've finally finished it! i aimed for a worthy successor to cj/cm aaand i hope i managed but jeez was it hard. also i told myself i won't be writing sth like that again but i kinda have an idea for the final part (would be hurt/comfort 🤭) so let me know if it's sth you'd like to read. anyway as always happy reading!! 💕🥰 comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated, i absolutely love seeing what you think of my fics!

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

You swallowed your tears and rested the chin on your hands, trying to push back the wave of panic threatening to drown you.

“Tell me again.”

Tommy sighed, his own eyes empty and worried.

“I don’t know who those guys were, but they obviously knew Joel. There was a dark man leadin’ them, and I think he had somethin’ wrong with his lip, but it was too far for me to take a good look. The group consisted of five, maybe six people? And I shot one of them, but he appeared to still be alive when they were leavin’.”

You were silent for a couple of seconds, trying to make sense of it all.

“And where did they take him?”

“I reckon to the old ski resort on the top of the mountain. We ventured pretty far from here to investigate these tracks.”

You nodded and steeled yourself, taking a deep, trembling breath and quickly drying your tears.

“Okay. I’m going.”

“You’re not.” Maria leaned over the table, her expression unyielding. “The decision is final.”

“I am going,” you repeated fiercely, slamming the flat of your hand against the tabletop, but Tommy gave you a stern look, which made you bite your tongue. “Look, I get that you don’t want to lose even more people in a rescue mission–”

“This is not what it’s about,” Maria retorted, almost looking hurt by your words. “Believe me, if I wasn’t carrying another human being inside me, I’d already be going after them. But you have to take other things into consideration.”

“She’s right,” Tommy spoke up quietly, though equally irritably, and you turned sharply to look at him in disbelief. “The route to the resort is very advantageous to fall into an ambush. They could shoot us off like ducks and we’d have nowhere to hide.”

“I don’t care,” you ground out, looking from one to the other. “We can’t leave Joel. He’s your family, for goddamn–”

“You think I don’t know that?!” shouted Tommy abruptly, bringing his hand down onto the table, too. “He’s my fucking brother and was family way before you were even born!”

“Tommy.” Maria kicked him under the table, keeping one hand on her belly. Her husband flared his nostrils, clearly agitated by your words, but you were too angry yourself to care right now. You two glared at each other for some time before Tommy clenched his fists and turned around.

“M’goin’ to get some air,” he said gloomily over his shoulder, already at the door leading outside. Maria sighed and looked at you again.

“Please. Don’t do anything stupid, and I swear I’ll send a group out as soon as this blizzard ends.”

“He can be long dead by then,” you answered gravely, really set off by Tommy’s reaction and his words. You tried to will your tear ducts to hold any signs of stress and worry, not wanting to show your friend how broken and helpless you felt inside. “If it was me, he’d already be halfway there to save me, Maria.”

“I know. But just think about it. If something happens to you…” She shook her head. “How do you think I’d be able to look Joel in the eyes and explain why… how…”

She genuinely seemed at a loss of words, and you sighed, rubbing your eyes tiredly.

“I understand where you’re coming from, I really do. But I need to get him home, Maria. I have to.”

With that, you stood up, feeling like you were going to suffocate if you stayed in the room any longer. You didn’t look back even when you heard Maria calling your name softly.

There wasn’t any sense in discussing the matter with any of them – you made up your mind to go and save Joel and there was no way anyone would make you stay. He wouldn’t hesitate to go and get you if anyone dared to lay a hand on you.

You remembered that one time when he killed a group of men who wanted to use you as a bargaining chip to gain entry to Jackson. And how afterward you told him you’d do the same for him, unable to bear the painful and guilty expression on his face.

Now you planned on doing just that.

You were scared – of course you were, you weren’t stupid – and the nerves were practically eating you alive, gnawing at your bones and hurting your muscles from the inside out.

But the worst was the fear of never seeing Joel again. Of something happening to him. And you couldn’t live with yourself if you didn’t at least try…

“I’m coming with you.”

Your head snapped to the side. There stood Ellie – dressed in a warm jacket and a hat that didn’t cover her ears. Her eyes were full of fire, and you recognized the anger and determination in her expression as the same which were almost suffocating you.

Of course she was eavesdropping on the conversation. It was Joel that it was about, after all, her dad in all but one sense.

And suddenly you understood what Maria meant by not being able to look Joel in the eyes if something happened to you.

“No,” you said curtly, walking past her and out onto the street in the direction of your house.

“I’m not asking for permission.” Ellie was right behind you, and the force of her steps showed just how angry and frustrated she was – just like you felt. “I know you’re gonna go after those guys, and I’m coming with you.”

“You’re not,” you repeated more sternly, not turning around to face her. You reached your house and fumbled to open the door. “You’re staying and that’s fina–”

You stopped yourself and sighed, pressing your forehead against the wooden surface.

It was unfair. You were unfair. If those exact words spoken by Maria have set you off so much, you wouldn’t be surprised if Ellie…

“You’re not my fucking mom, remember?” the girl barked angrily, and you let out a shuddering breath, stressed to your limits with everything that happened in the last few hours. “You can’t tell me what I can and can’t do just because you’re older!”

It’s okay. It’s gonna be fine. Everything is gonna be okay.

“I know,” you whispered after a couple of seconds of silence, still not turning around. “I’m sorry.”

Ellie didn’t answer. You repeated your quiet mantra and glanced over your shoulder at her. “But Ellie, I… I can’t let you go. Joel would never forgive me if something happened to you.”

Jesus. Exactly like Maria.

Ellie still looked pissed at your earlier words, and she crossed her arms over her chest.

“Well, you’re not the only one who cares about him, you know?”

“Yeah, I know. But you’re the one he cares about the most.”

Ellie opened her mouth. Closed it and furrowed her eyebrows, but the irritation in her eyes dimmed. You gave her a small, apologetic smile, trying not to burst into tears.

“He’s gonna be fine, you know,” you lied smoothly, opening the door. “And Maria said she’ll send a group to retrieve him as soon as the storm eases up a bit.”

You didn’t even need to look to know that she didn’t believe you. To be honest, you wouldn’t believe yourself either in this situation.

You waited several seconds to see if the girl wanted to say something else, but after a few moments she spun on her heel and went back, not saying anything. You stared after her, but when the thick snow made her figure just a fuzzy shape, you gently closed the door and pressed the heels of your hands to your eyes.

It’s going to be fine. You’ll get Joel back and all will be okay.

You took a couple of deep – albeit shaky – breaths to pull yourself together, and when you were pretty sure you weren’t about to start crying, you made your way into the kitchen. And stopped short.

At your table sat Tommy, fiddling with his thumbs.

“Fuck, Tommy,” you mumbled, trying to calm down your pounding heart. “You scared the crap out of me.”

The younger Miller looked up, but stayed silent. You looked at each other for a few tense moments, but ultimately you sighed and left him in the kitchen, going to your room to get a backpack and another, more fitting, set of clothes.

He was still there when you returned to the kitchen with your stuff, but you didn’t even pretend you weren’t preparing to head out. The man watched silently as you put the backpack down by the door, went to retrieve and reload your gun, and gathered some essentials on the table, not once glancing in his direction.

You were persistent in ignoring Tommy’s presence, but then he finally spoke up.

“We can go before dawn. I’ll get the horses ready and we will take the fourth gate.”

You froze and stopped what you were doing, then turned around and placed your hand on your hip.

“We can’t take horses up there. Not in this weather.”

“We’ll leave them at the fifteenth checkmark. That place in the East where there are so many swallows durin’ spring.”

You nodded, and your gaze softened when you looked him over. Tommy was just as worried about Joel as you were, you knew it. He was just better at hiding it.

“I’m sorry for what I said,” you murmured, feeling terrible that in such a short amount of time, it was a second person you were apologizing to. “But you know I have to go after him. You know that.”

“Fuck,” he swore quietly, sighing. “Yeah, I know. There’s no way I ain’t goin’ either. Just… I just hate doing somethin’ behind Maria’s back.”

You didn’t answer – because what could you say? That he didn’t have to go with you? As much as you wanted to save Joel, pretending not to care about the dangers or anyone’s opinion, you knew you’d probably die if you went alone. But it didn’t mean you were going to ignore all that Tommy was risking by coming along with you.

“You don’t have to, Tommy,” you whispered. “You have your wife to think about, after all. And your–”

“I know,” he interrupted glumly. “Don’t worry. All of us will come back.”

You nodded. You really hoped he was right.

*****

At first, everything was going according to plan.

At least, until Ellie decided to show up.

She surprised both you and Tommy a couple of miles outside of Jackson, probably thinking that it was far enough that you won’t try to send her away.

You tried anyway. You were understandably furious, not only because she didn’t listen to you, but also that she trailed after you both for so long in this weather. Her reveal caused a short screaming match and a couple of nervous tears shed by you, but eventually you and Tommy decided it’d be more dangerous to make Ellie go back to Jackson alone. So she continued with you to the house where you left your horses, then past it and in the direction of the ski resort.

You didn’t know how many people were at the resort, and there were only the two of you – well, three, counting Ellie, but no matter her stubbornness, you weren’t going to let her go in – and an attack was too risky in this situation.

So you decided to sneak in. To distract and draw the kidnappers’ attention long enough for you to get Joel out. It was still stupidly risky, but it wasn’t like there were much more options that wouldn’t end in those guys killing all of you. The plan was that Tommy would find a vantage point and be on guard to take down any threats with his sniper rifle if you were noticed, while you go get Joel.

Ellie… Ellie didn’t take no for an answer. And as much as you hated that she tagged along on this dangerous rescue mission, you had to admit that she came prepared. Apparently some time ago Joel taught her how to make trap mines and she pitched the idea of planting some up the mountain to create an avalanche.

Well, you and Tommy were both very much against setting off a full-blown avalanche, but it wasn’t a bad idea per se. So it was agreed that Tommy will help her set the bombs in some strategic places while you wait for a signal to go in.

The sneaking in part was surprisingly easy. The people staying there didn’t leave any guards outside, probably because they didn’t expect that someone would actually look for them in this weather, and it seemed that there weren’t that many of them inside like you feared. You had a vague idea where Joel might be, based on the positioning of the people present, so you reckoned it’ll be the wisest to wait nearby.

It took about an hour of hiding in one of the empty rooms (you had to change your hiding spot once, because someone decided to randomly sweep the perimeter) before you heard distant explosions and panicked, angry yells, and then a rumble of the mountain. You suspected a fair amount of snow was falling down the slope, and you prayed that Ellie and Tommy were in a safe place when that happened.

You heard the sound of footsteps getting further away. Then more of it. It was eerily silent, and you counted to ten in your head, before slowly exiting your hiding spot.

Just as you suspected, Joel was held in the lobby, tied to one of the decorative columns, and even though his back was to you, you’d recognize him anywhere, even by hands or the back of his head alone. A quick glance around the room confirmed that there was no one around, but still you preferred to stay on guard. You silently tip-toed to where he was sitting on the floor, mindful of all the debris scattered on the floor and keeping your head low, and breathed a sigh of relief when you finally reached him.

“Don’t move,” you whispered, barely moving your lips. Your fingers touched his wrist and he budged slightly. You angled your face closer to the left side of his head, hoping he’ll hear you better this way. “It’s me, Joel. I’m gonna get these off you, okay?”

Not waiting for the reply, you took out your knife and started to cut the thick, coarse rope binding Joel’s wrists. You winced at the burns underneath, but you managed not to cut him, which was a feat with how tight the ropes were. He was very still, probably not wanting to handicap you.

“Okay,” you whispered when the last of the thick strands were cut through, and you carefully slid the remnants of the rope from his wrists. “Now follow me, Tommy is…”

Your voice died down when Joel’s arms loosely slumped down, along with his head, and a second later his torso started tilting to the side before heavily hitting the ground.

Your heart stopped in your chest.

“No.” The whispered word escaped you when you hurried around him, now not caring about staying hidden. “No, no, no, please…”

You rolled Joel onto his back and only now saw the damage done to him – his nose broken, face covered in blood, a gash under his left ear, and a still bleeding gunshot wound in his arm. He didn’t look dead, didn’t have that lifeless emptiness around him, but his eyes were closed and his chest was still. You put your ear to his mouth, desperate to feel his breath on your skin, but…

No, it can’t be, it can’t…

You couldn’t feel anything.

“Joel,” you said quietly, taking his face between your hands, but tears were blurring your vision. “Come on, please open your eyes.” A choked sob broke out of your throat and you shook your head when he still didn’t even as much as stir. “Love, please…”

That’s when your eyes landed on a small, glass vial lying discarded some feet away. You looked from it to Joel, tears clouding your vision, and scrambled forward to check it out.

As you suspected, the syringe – because that’s what it turned out to be – had the traces of a thick, translucent liquid in it left. There wasn’t any writing on it, but the glass was clean, unlike various other bottles and wrappings scattered throughout the facility. You stared at it for a couple of seconds, then fixed your gaze on Joel again.

Just as the sound of footsteps started to echo down the hall.

You froze and strained your ears to make sure you didn’t imagine it, then took a look around the room. The doors were slightly ajar, but whoever was coming here, they couldn’t see you just yet. Panic seized your insides and you turned to Joel again.

“Sweetheart, please wake up,” you whispered pleadingly, shaking his shoulders and slapping his cheek lightly. “Come on, look at me, open your eyes…"

The steps were getting louder by the second. You tore the glove off your hand with your teeth and tried to very quickly check Joel’s pulse, but either in your panic you couldn’t find it, or the heartbeat was too slow for you to pick up.

You didn’t consider any other option.

There wasn’t much time left, so finally you left him and quietly went to hide behind the door, waiting for the incomer to walk in. Your hand reached for the gun on your belt.

And paused.

There couldn’t be any other option… right? Joel was alive, you just failed to find his pulse. He…

He was lying, still in the place you left him, and you couldn’t see his chest moving. The blood was flowing from the wound in his arm, staining his jacket and the floor… Your hand, the one holding the pistol, was covered in it, too…

Then you did something you never expected of yourself.

The gun stayed in its holster, and you went to grab from the ground one of the heavier pieces of debris you noticed before, a long metal pipe. Your hands tightened on the metal, and your eyes stayed on Joel’s lifeless form. You took a stifled, nervous breath. Then a deep, steadying one.

The person in the hall was really close now. Joel still didn’t appear to be moving or breathing, and it made your own chest feel tight and painful.

He couldn’t be dead. He couldn’t.

But if they did this, if… if he won’t ever open his beautiful brown eyes again, say your name in that entricing raspy drawl…

The doors to your right opened and your face twisted in rage and resentment. Your muscles tensed and focus sharpened.

The man who walked through the door made a noise of surprise at the sight of Joel lying on the floor – and that inhaling sound, that maddening noise seemed to taunt you, because how dared he breathe when Joel’s own breath was stolen from him, when you weren’t sure if it was still there – right before you stepped forward and swung the pipe with all your might.

The man – dark skin, with short hair – fell down with a loud cry when the harsh metal hit him right in the temple. Your eyes scanned his figure for a weapon, and you hit him again, this time somewhere near his stomach, when he made a move to reach for his knife.

“What did you give him?!” you asked with malice and venom that were so alien to you, you almost didn’t recognize your voice. The man’s eyes focused on you for the first time when you kicked his blade away, and his confusion turned to anger.

“Crazy bitch!” he spat, heaving for air, and lunged at you, but the open wound in his skull must’ve slowed him down, because without any problem you managed to raise your makeshift weapon before he could grab you.

Since you met him so many years ago, you always had Joel to watch your back. Now you were alone, but somehow that thought didn’t scare you. It exhilarated you.

An unpleasant, hair-rising crack echoed in the room, followed by the stranger’s scream, when the heavy metal smashed the bones in the forearm.

“I asked… a simple, fucking, question!” you snarled at the man, bringing the pipe down again, aiming for his hand this time. He moved it away at the last second, which enraged you even more, so with a mad, frustrated scream, you smashed his knee, using the pipe’s momentum when it bounced off the floor. “What the fuck did you do to him?!!”

He screamed, loudly and terribly, cursing at you with every shaky breath he took, and–

You felt so unlike you, so… out of your skin, somehow… but you wanted to make him suffer. You wanted to know this inhuman cry of pain that was reverberating through the walls of the resort was your doing and your power over this bastard. Because of what they did to Joel.

Then a loud bang rang out in the air, and you instinctively ducked your head when a part of the door to your side was shot off. You dropped the pipe – no use for it now – and drew your gun, noticing with surprise that your heart was steady and your breath even, as if you didn’t almost get shot just now.

Another bullet was sent in your direction, and a woman’s voice yelled something inaudible, while you stood still and counted the seconds.

Three, two…

In a rapid movement, you came out of cover and aimed at the person standing in the hall, firing twice. The first bullet hit the woman in the arm while the second seemed to burrow itself in her stomach. She fell backwards with a curt cry, and the man lying at your feet roared with rage.

“No! You fucking bitch, leave her alone!!”

Your motions were almost automatic as you put your gun away and picked up the metal pipe again, its end splattered with blood. The man in front of you had to see something in your eyes – despair? emptiness? hatred? – because his face fell and he started quietly begging for you to stop and let him go. At least that’s what you assumed he was saying, because you didn’t listen to him one bit.

“Do not…” you started, unexpectedly calmly, bringing the end of the blunt weapon down. The impact caused his shinbone to break, and you lingered for just a moment to hear the bitter cracks of the shattered bones, “fucking… go anywhere. Don’t you dare move, hear me?”

The man didn’t answer, just cursed and wept in pain. The sound was horrible, but you almost didn’t notice it – or more accurately, didn’t care. Which would be even more concerning if you weren’t aware of the woman lying injured in the hall behind the door, and Joel, still unmoving and cold to the touch on the other side of the room.

Slowly, not hearing the black man’s cries or distant gunshots from where Tommy probably was taking down the enemies, and not caring about the blood of a stranger covering your jacket and pants, you dropped the pipe and took out your gun again. Then you made your way down the corridor, your eyes locked on the woman who shot at you.

She was groaning in pain, clutching at her stomach. When she noticed you, her hand reached for the pistol which lay discarded next to her, but you quickly lifted your own and aimed at her before she touched it.

“Don’t move,” you murmured, which would sound almost soft if it weren’t for the empty look in your eyes. The woman scanned you up and down, and slowly lifted her hands.

“Who are you?”

“What did you give him?” you asked like you didn’t hear her, coming closer to kick away her gun to the far end of the hall. The woman’s eyes followed the weapon, then shifted to you.

“Do you even know what that man did? What is he guilty of?”

“I know. Now answer the damn question. What did you give–”

The door on your left slammed open and you only had time to turn your head before a heavy body collided with you, pushing you to the wall. Your head hit the bricks with an echoing crack, knocking the breath out of you. A man who surprised you grabbed the material of your jacket and slammed you into the wall again, but you managed to grab his hair and yank it hard, which allowed you to step to the side and away from the point of disadvantage that being trapped against the wall was.

The man – taller than you, with a black eye and without one of the front teeth – was quick to recover, however, and catched the wrist of your hand that held the gun, pushing it to the side when you pulled the trigger. From the corner of your eye you could see the woman you shot curling up and covering her head, then trying to scamper away, but the wound in her stomach was a significant impediment.

You fired again, trying to wrestle the gun from the man, but his grip was strong and after a few seconds of struggle he managed to knock the weapon out of your grasp, sending it flying to where you kicked off the woman’s one earlier.

Not sooner than your hands were empty, his elbow collided with your face, hard, and you cried when a gush of blood started pouring from the broken nose and a cut on your lip. Fear washed over you, and sheer luck caused you to duck to the side in time, avoiding a fist to the temple.

You stumbled backwards a few unstable steps, breathing heavily. The guy was smirking, acting like he already won – but you weren’t about to die in this sleazy, stinky place, leaving Ellie all alone and never knowing why they abducted Joel in the first place.

Joel…

“You’ve made a huge mistake,” said the man quietly, taking one, then two steps forward and swinging again. You backed away a second time, feeling your heart pounding in panic and knowing you didn’t stand a chance against a man of his stature.

Finally your luck ran out, and the man managed to hit you in the jaw, making you taste blood on your tongue. Before you could recover, one of his hands shot forward and grabbed you by the throat, and then, still keeping his big hand on your neck, he brought your entire torso down, slamming you to the ground. You hit your head hard and the glass shards on the floor embedded themselves in your skin, but in the next moment the sound of your painful scream was cut short. The grip the man had on your throat tightened, and you started to have difficulty breathing.

Your eyes budged in fear as realization of what was happening dawned on you, and you started to kick and struggle wildly, reaching for your attacker’s face, but he moved out of reach, still putting his whole weight down on you.

Your fists were hitting his forearms, your nails scratching his cheeks, whatever to make him let go. But he didn’t, his hands still squeezing your throat so strongly and crushing your esophagus.

“After I kill you, I’ll go kill your friend,” your attacker snickered, smiling viciously as he watched ice-cold panic enveloping you. “He’s not worthy of keeping him alive that long, anyway.”

Something ignited inside you at his words.

Joel.

You suddenly remembered the many self-defense lessons Joel had given you, so that whenever he wasn’t there to protect you, you could do it yourself. He was always so afraid for your life…

Slowly and with great effort, your fingers crept down, searching for the handle of your hunting knife, while dark spots started to appear before your vision, partially covering the sneering face of the man crushing your windpipe. He said something else – something you didn’t even hear because of the ringing in your ears…

And then with the last bit of your strength, you yanked the knife out of its sheath and buried the blade in the side of his neck.

Several things happened simultaneously: the man cried in surprise and let you go, the woman shouted a warning – too late – and you swung your leg over him, straddling and stabbing the man over and over again. His neck, his chest, his face, you didn’t even see what you were hitting. Screaming your lungs out and burying the blade in him again, and again, and again.

And again.

With an outraged, desperate cry, the woman lunged at you, but the adrenaline coursing through your system made you not even register something cutting deeply the skin of your arm, your veins and muscles giving way. You spun around, tumbling with her to the ground, but quickly managed to pin her down, blocking her arms in place with your knees, and pressing the tip of your knife to her chest.

She immediately stopped moving.

“Last fucking chance,” you croaked with difficulty, your neck bruised and swollen. “What… did you give him?”

You didn’t know if it was the sight of you, bloodied and wounded, the fact that you just violently killed her friend, or something else entirely – but now the woman looked scared.

“Okay,” she whispered, trying not to breathe too deeply, and glanced nervously at the blade pressed against her skin. “Okay, I’ll tell you, just don’t… It was a tranquilizer. Nothing dangerous, we just put him to sleep for a couple of hours. He was putting up quite a fight and the guys were getting antsy that he’ll pull something off before–”

“He’s not breathing,” you rasped viciously, sputtering blood onto her face. The woman flinched and took a shaky breath.

“His heart rate is slowed down, but it doesn’t– it shouldn’t kill him.”

You clenched your teeth, then exhaled. Inhaled.

You have to take a grip of yourself. He is alive. He has to be…

Should be.

The weight with which you had pinned her to the ground became lighter, and the woman sighed with relief when you removed the sharp end from her chest.

“It shouldn’t… kill him?” you repeated emptily, trying to dismiss the pain in your throat when you were speaking.

“No.”

Your head was still buzzing, but you tried to push it to the side, to focus on what was important right now.

“Why… did you take him?”

And just with that one, quiet question, the woman’s expression changed. You were considering letting her go, since you already hurt her pretty badly, but the sudden shift in her behavior set off alarm bells in your head once more.

“He’s a murderer,” the woman said, as if it was the most obvious answer. “A monster that would do everyone a favor if he got put down.”

White, blinding fury flooded your veins and it felt almost as if electricity was cracking above your skin. Your hand held the knife tighter.

‘Put down’, like… like an animal. She was talking about the man you loved–

You weren’t able to stop the hatred and rage flowing out of every pore of your skin. In one swift motion you plunged the knife into the woman’s chest, making her choke and gasp in surprise.

“You cannot call him that,” you spluttered, barely able to speak from the pain. “You…”

And then your hand forced its way lower down, still holding the handle of your weapon. Cutting through the woman’s – now struggling and screaming in agony – abdomen and guts.

They went so far as to abduct Joel, they took him from you, hurt and shot him, wanted to torture him, to make him suffer before they ultimately kill him…

But they didn’t, he can’t be dead, he can’t–

The woman was conscious the entire time as you were ripping her insides apart, and her screams died down only after you reached the navel.

Your vision was blurry and faltering when you stood up, but your heart was still beating steadily. There was an echo of a scream in your ears, though you couldn’t tell if it was your or the dead woman’s voice.

There wasn’t anyone else in the hallway. In the back of your mind you hoped that Tommy took care of any remaining enemies, because if they’d come running here, you didn’t think you’d be able to hear them in time.

Clutching your injured arm, you slowly made your way to the room where you left Joel and the man who attacked you first. Your gun was lying near the entrance and you picked it up before pushing the door open and staggering inside.

The man wasn’t where you left him. Instead there was a big pool of blood, forming into a wide, smeared path leading further into the lobby. At the end of it you saw him, groaning and crawling to the exit.

You reloaded the gun and walked closer. At the sound, the man turned his head and his eyes widened when he saw you.

“You fucking psycho!” he spat, bracing himself on the elbow of his left arm – the only one still working. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done?! When she sees it, they’ll come for you, and they’ll make sure that the two of you will fucking pay for it!”

His words were flowing through you as you struggled to keep your vision focused. You felt weird – almost like waking up way too early and finding your body not listening to you entirely.

Then you realized. The hungry, burning anger was gone, the embers of hatred slowly dying out. There was only smoke and emptiness left inside you.

“I don’t care,” you mumbled, not loud enough for the man to hear you, but that didn’t matter – two seconds later he was dead, his brain splattered all over the floor behind him.

Your hand was shaking. Cold crept up your limbs, embracing and almost choking you as you breathed in, out, faster and faster as you finally comprehended what you did.

Your eyes moved down to the man’s indented knee, completely smashed into a bloody mess. The other limb was all wrong, his foot sticking in the opposite direction and no wonder he had to crawl to get away from you, you destroyed his legs, you…

You staggered backwards, your pupils darting to the hallway just for a second before returning to the battered corpse in front of you. The back of his skull was gone now, but how did he stay conscious for so long after you smashed his head with a metal pipe? There was so much blood on it… How much pain he must have felt after you left him?

And that woman… He begged you to leave her alone, and you… you ripped her open…

You moved back, back and further away, before tripping and falling to the floor. Your breaths were fast and shallow, and you reached for your neck, sore and swollen from almost being strangled, trying to will your lungs to work.

They were bad people. They took and hurt Joel, and planned to kill him. You had to kill them, they’d kill you in a heartbeat, they…

It wasn’t like you’ve never taken a life before, but it was the first time that you inflicted pain on somebody on purpose – not in self-defense, but because you wanted to retaliate. It was done in revenge.

You didn’t know for how long you had sat there when you heard someone saying your name. It sounded like… No, it couldn’t have been his voice, he was unconscious, he wasn’t breathing…

Suddenly, Tommy’s face appeared in your blurry field of vision – of course it was him, their voices were so similar, after all – and there was a deep crease between his brows. He looked worried and fearful, and–

“Snap out of it,” he said firmly, shaking your shoulders harder than he should have. Your name fell from his lips when you didn’t answer, and his eyes followed yours to a battered body on the floor. “Look at me. Look at me.” Tommy forcefully turned your chin in his direction, and his eyes were full of sorrow and pain. “You did what you had to do.”

You shook your head, swallowing the tears that streamed down your face. He didn’t know what you did. He didn’t understand what happened here, what happened with you… You yourself didn’t know what happened to you.

Tommy brought you closer to his chest, enveloping you in his strong embrace and the smell of leather and gunpowder. You choked on air, unable to stop the sobs racking your body, and deaf to his words, for the only thing you could hear were cracks of bones, screams of pain, and your own vengeful cries.

It was so loud in your mind that you almost missed a quiet grunt coming from behind you.

*****

Joel slowly opened his eye, then groaned and closed it again. He felt like shit and it was so hard to breathe, but he pushed through the pain and discomfort from the wound in his side, and tried again.

The first thing he saw was the greenish curtain, hiding the rest of the room from him, but judging by the fact that he was lying in bed, alive, with apparently all his wounds dressed, he figured it wasn’t the same place that group of angry youngsters took him to.

Lifting his head and turning it to the other side was a tremendous task, but it was so worth it – because there was you. Sitting in a chair next to him, asleep and with your head lying on folded arms on his bed. Joel smiled softly, but then furrowed his brows as a pang of anxiety shot right through him.

Your face was a mess, with cuts and bruises healing, your brow was split, and one of your forearms had a bandage wrapped around it, now a little dirty around the edges. Joel couldn’t see clearly, but your neck seemed… dark, as if the skin was bruised there, too.

What the hell happened?

He lifted his arm – the tingles and needles pierced his stiff limb – and brushed your cheek lightly, trying to wake you.

“Darlin’...” he murmured, and you stirred. He tried to say it again, louder this time, but his throat was scratchy and he winced at the feeling. There was no need for it, however, because in the next moment your eyes fluttered open and then widened when you took in the sight of him, realizing he’s awake.

“Joel!” Your hands – God, he missed the feeling of them – cupped his face gently, and your eyes filled with tears in the matter of seconds. “Oh my god, baby…”

“Hey, hey, I’m fine,” he breathed out quickly, not wanting to see you cry. “It’s okay, darlin’... I’m here.”

You sobbed with a dazzling smile, your beautiful eyes dancing across his features before you darted forward and pressed your lips to his firmly. Joel could almost taste the desperation and worry in your shaky breaths and tears that fell from your eyes and onto his tongue. He wanted to tangle his fingers in your hair and bring you in closer, but a sudden, sharp pain pierced his arm when he tried to move it, and he hissed into your mouth.

“Sorry,” you whispered and moved away quickly, letting out a broken laugh and brushing the unruly strands of hair away from his forehead. “I’m just so happy you’re okay.”

Joel wanted to ask what exactly had happened while he was out, but before he got a chance, you leaned in again and started softly peppering his face in kisses – first his cheek, then his forehead, then the tip of his nose and his chin. And Joel didn’t have the heart to stop you.

And that’s how Ellie found you both. She gagged when she saw the display of affection, but there was a grin on her face when he looked over at her.

“Gross,” she scrunched her nose. “But I’m glad to see you awake.”

“Yeah, well, I still feel pretty shitty,” he grunted, scanning the kid for any injuries, but she didn’t look any worse for the wear. His eyes strayed to your neck again, and the concern came back double-barreled. “What happened to you, sweetheart? Where–”

“I’ll… go get the doctor.” You stood up abruptly before he could finish, and looked over at Ellie. “Will you stay with him?”

“Yeah. Sure.” The teen shrugged, but now was avoiding Joel’s eyes, and he felt more uneasy and agitated by the second.

“Okay. Be right back, love. Gonna grab you some water, too.” You squeezed his hand and smiled. Joel’s eyes escorted you, and when he made sure you were out of the earshot, he turned to Ellie.

“What happened?”

“Well.” The teen blew out her cheeks and went to take a seat you previously occupied. “You were attacked during the patrol…”

“Yeah, no, that I remember,” Joel interrupted quietly. “They shot me, took me to that ski resort. But how am I here? Did she…”

He trailed off. Ellie looked at the curtain you disappeared behind, then back at Joel. “Listen, I wasn’t there, so m’not sure,” she mumbled quietly. “But after she and Tommy got you out, she was sorta… different.”

“Different how?” he asked sharply. Ellie bit the inside of her cheek, looking away. “Ellie.”

“I don’t know, okay?” she answered in a sudden burst. “She looked like hell. You saw her neck, I think someone tried to choke her, and she had an ugly cut on her leg, a fuckton of cuts and bruises… And the doctor spent hours getting all the glass shards out of her.”

Joel got up as much as he could, feeling a pit of anxiety rising in his chest. Ellie was silent for a while before she spoke again, this time surprisingly softly.

“Remember when you beat the shit out of that soldier when we were escaping QZ in Boston?” Joel nodded slightly – she did, too. “Yeah. She had a similar… kind of look on her face, and it looked… not exactly scary, but alien.” The teen looked up. “My guess is she did some fucked up shit to get to you. Tommy said she’s been having real bad nightmares since then, but he doesn’t want to tell me–”

Ellie snapped her mouth shut at the sound of footsteps, and a few seconds later you emerged from behind the curtain. You had a tall glass of water in your hand and a small, hopeful smile that grew when your eyes fell on Joel’s face.

“I know you’d probably prefer something stronger, but water will do you good,” you said, seemingly oblivious to the fact that they were just talking about you. Joel watched as you carefully sat down at the edge of his bed and put down the glass onto the table to his side. “One of the nurses will come here in a couple of minutes. You were unconscious for a couple of days so they want to make sure everything is okay.”

“I told you I’m fine, darlin’...”

“Please.” You gently took his hand in both of yours, staring at him with concern. “For me?”

Joel looked you over, his eyes lingering on your bruised neck and the bandage around your thigh which he didn’t notice before. Then he glanced at Ellie with worry, not knowing how to approach this problem or ask what exactly happened to you.

Your eyes were a little red and puffy, and he briefly thought about what the kid said: that you have had terrible nightmares, that apparently you went through some sort of hell to save him. It seemed that whatever you had done, it took its heavy toll on you. And he couldn’t bear it.

Joel hated the thought of you risking your life for him, of the experience branding you so deeply that you lost sleep because of it.

Because of him.

The only thing he could do right now was to be there for you. And maybe – just maybe, if he tried hard enough – to do something about those of your scars that he couldn’t see.

He lifted your hand to his lips and pressed a kiss to it, keeping his eyes on yours the entire time.

“Okay,” came his soft answer, to which you smiled with relief. “Whatever you wish, darlin’.”

No snarky remark, no groaning or muttering could be heard from Ellie, and that worried Joel much more than he’d ever admit. He exchanged a worried look with her while you were distracted, drawing patterns on the back of his hand with tender fingers.

“It’s gonna be okay,” he heard you say quietly, though it was unclear whether you were talking to him or yourself.

Either way, Joel squeezed your hand tighter, now feeling oddly afraid of letting go.

“Yes, darlin’,” he confirmed in a soothing manner. “Everything’s gonna be okay.”

#joel miller x reader #pedro pascal x reader #joel miller x y/n #joel miller #pedro pascal #joel miller x you #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us #joel miller angst #joel tlou #tlou hbo #btw i tried to do some research on tranquilizers and anesthesia drugs but i didn't find anything clear so. everything you read is made up #i could have wrote it better but.. eh #it was challenging enough and i can't believe i've spent almost a month on it

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sukifoof · 5 months

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HI WATCH OUT FOR UNDERTALE YELLOW SPOILERS . ANYWAY

watched the ut yellow neutral end and ohhh i am losing my MIND... just. thinking about how flowey is only willing to move on in the true pacifist route. the route where he sees kindness and a genuine want to help others in a human child. asriel died to save humans because of the people he was surrounded with. toriel asgore and chara are people who feel very strongly for those around them and he couldn't take human lives when the only human he knew was chara. a kid who cares enough about the people around them to sacrifice themself, just like the way his parents are.

flowey comments on toriel letting herself go because she cares so much and how we wouldn't have to feel so bad if we simply didn't care. his whole coping mechanism is distancing himself from others and Not Caring because if he allows himself to feel it'll just completely destroy him. he felt for the humans on the surface even when they were attacking him and the way he treats clover in neutral vs pacifist says a lot about his want to see good in others.

hes constantly pushing frisk to go with options that benefit everyone and while he worries about clover caring about those around him he seems to really appreciate it. at any moment he could just do whatever he wants with clover's life. the only route in which flowey allows them to make their own choices with their life is when they're being a good person and he just can't help but call them a friend because that's the type of person he's always wanted to be around. that's the type of person that's home to him!!

and i keep thinking about how he just couldn't let clover live out their life with toriel in the ruins. something something toriel trying to make up for feeling like she failed asriel and chara and flowey feeling replaced and clover being stuck in a small place for the rest of their life. i have thoughts on this that i don't know how to put into words but i'm not at all surprised flowey wasn't okay with that. of Course he wasn't. hes flowey. he has every issue ever. i think that allowing clover to live with toriel would make flowey feel like he really has to accept that he can't just go back to the past and he's not ready to come to terms with anything that's happened yet

flowey always insists he doesn't care and he can't feel as a result of his trauma but it's so clear from his regret and fondness for people who are compassionate that compassion is something he always strives for. even though he doesn't understand and can't understand it's always something he wants to see in others. it hurts to be compassionate and to love others and it's why he blocks it out but at the end of the day he's the same person who sacrificed himself and his sibling to save who knows how many people both in the underground and surface, and the same person who let go of what he believed to be the only way he could stay "himself" for the sake of freeing monsters.

he's such a fascinating character... his mind and heart are at war with each other and i love how undertale yellow goes into this with the way they portray how he reacts to clover's death in the pacifist route. "maybe you've earned your rest" and calling them a friend after trying to act tough... he really respects when others are truly kind despite what some might consider common sense. i don't know where i'm going with this anymore but i hope u guys get it. just imagine i am gripping ur shoulders and pointing at flowey frantically

#flowey #flowey the flower #asriel #asriel dreemurr #undertale yellow spoilers #undertale yellow #undertale #utdr #utdr analysis

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sweetlikehoneystingslikeabee · 3 months

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How would Croc, Bane, and Harley deal with an s/o whose libido is really high but hesitant to initiate? Like always dtf but, at the same time, not wanting to impose?

"Considerate but Wanting" Killer Croc, Bane and Harley x S/O (not poly)

While I don't deal with this particular issue, I do get why you'd be worried about that.

TW: NSFW

Killer Croc

THE PROBLEM IS... He is also very hesitant to initiate at first because of how he looks. Genuinely, he's so into you, he would consider just taking care of himself when needed to not put you out. He would take the romantic relationship over a sexual. Even with his more... carnal, animal tendencies.

There's a slim possibility he could even interpret your hesitation as not wanting that from him. It would get to the point that if you did ask, he'd insist you don't have to if you don't want to. He gets it.

Once you explain, however, he feels kind of silly about it? Not that you're silly or your concerns are silly, but that it was really just you trying to be nice vs. anything about himself. He might even joke "Because of course it had to be all about me, huh, sha?"

Tell him in the future. If he's not in the mood, he'll just tell you. The chances of that are fairly slim, though. Unless something is actually going on, he's more than happy to indulge in that wild side. Wanna go for a ride? He's not gonna complain about seeing you bounce on his cock.

Bane

He himself is fairly mindful (or at least tries to be) of things like this, so he understands. Everyone has needs and these needs should be fulfilled when possible- Whether with a partner or on their own. Plus, he'll make it clear there will be times he's not around. Whether because he's been incarcerated or his has business in other places too dangerous for you to attend...

It isn't something he would like per say or want, but he would be okay if you sought out those needs safely with a third party- Is that what this is about? He wants to be very clear and understanding on all levels of your relationship. That's just the kind of partner he is.

If it really is just a matter of feeling like you're imposing on him, he'll let you know it's not a worry. Typically speaking, even if he's not really in the mood himself, he's more than pleased to help you out. Whether it's a spicy phone call when he's away or... a helping hand between your legs when you are together- He doesn't want you to feel as if you're a bother.

In moments where he's truly unavailable either emotionally or physically, he'll just tell you. You're both adults. While some might not be able to handle these conversations with grace, he is not one of those people.

Harley Quinn

Probably the most appreciative of the gesture. She is also usually dtf most of the time but when she's off, she is off and doesn't want to feel hounded. Not that you would do that, of course, but... It's very sweet you're considerate of that. She's certainly had her fair share of partners that have tried to push even after she said she wasn't in the mood.

She would be delighted to eliminate your fear of imposition by hitting on you at every possible opportunity. If she senses that she for some reason is getting too much, she'll try to pull back but considering everything that's happened in her life, she's not shy. She's going to encourage you to not be shy, either! Be comfortable. The two of you can get real snug as a bug in each other's skin.

I think she'd really get off on seeing how long she could make that libido last. She's got a collection of fun toys you can sit on, get plugged into, whatever your fancy- She'll mark how many times you've cum in lipstick on your thighs. Or maybe you can do the same to her. It's all in good fun.

Expect spank bank pinup photos for when she's away or in an off mood. She's got you covered, sugarpop!

#killer croc x reader #killer croc #waylon jones #Bane x reader #harley quinn x reader #harley quinn #harleen quinzel #bane dc #foxwriting #suggestive

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doumadono · 9 months

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Hiiiiiiiii :3

Cooongrats on 3k... you could share and gibe me some followers :< but fine... I get it... :'<

Giving you piggyback rides with... Prohero!Kirishima with fellow Pro fem!reader! I'd like to ask for a short fic.

Love you and congrats again! 🐺💖

A piggyback ride - Kirishima x Reader

Synopsis: during a fight against villains, you injured your knee. Eijiro made sure your knee was treated, and afterwards, he ensured you got back home safely A/N: thank you, love! Trust me, if I could, I would give you everything! Nevertheless, I hope you'll enjoy this tiny, fluffy fic ♥

MASTERLIST

You sat on the cold pavement, your knee throbbing in pain as the adrenaline from the battle subsided. The successful mission had left the city center safe, but it had taken a toll on you. Your fellow Prohero, Kirishima, rushed to your side with concern etched on his face.

"Y/N, are you okay?" Kirishima's deep voice resonated with worry as he knelt beside you, his red hair falling gently over his eyes.

"I'll be fine, just twisted my knee during the fight," you replied, trying to put on a brave face despite the pain.

Kirishima's strong and chiseled features softened as he examined your injury. "You shouldn't push yourself too hard, you know? Let me help you back to the agency."

You nodded, appreciating his concern. As a fellow Prohero, you had shared countless battles and trained together. Kirishima was known for his unwavering determination and strength, making him an invaluable asset during missions. Today, he had proved once again why he was the hero you admired the most.

Gently, Kirishima scooped you up into his arms, carrying you as if you weighed nothing at all. His muscles flexed under his costume, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of safety being held in his arms.

"Are you comfortable?" Kirishima asked with a hint of worry as he began to walk towards the agency's headquarters.

You smiled warmly. "Yes, thank you, Kirishima. You're a lifesaver."

He chuckled, his smile infectious. "Just doing my duty as your partner," he said, and you could hear the genuine care in his voice.

The streets were still filled with the aftermath of the battle, but you didn't mind. The sight of Kirishima, the hero with a heart of gold, carrying you through the chaos made everything seem peaceful. People cheered and thanked both of you for saving the city, and their words only served to strengthen your admiration for Kirishima.

As you approached the agency's headquarters, Kirishima gently set you down on a nearby bench. He crouched down in front of you, concern etched on his face once more. "Is there anything I can get you? Water, first aid?" he asked, his eyes locked onto yours.

"Just some water would be great," you replied, touched by his thoughtfulness.

Kirishima dashed inside and returned with a bottle of water. As you sipped the cool liquid, he sat down beside you, leaning in slightly. "You were amazing out there," he said, admiration evident in his voice. "Your dedication and courage inspire me every day, truly, Y/N."

Blushing, you looked away. "Thanks, Eijiro. But I couldn't have done it without you. You were incredible out there too."

His face turned a faint shade of pink, and he scratched the back of his head. "Heh, thanks. We make a great team, don't we?"

"We really do," you agreed, a soft smile on your lips.

After a while, your knee felt better, and you knew you should head inside for proper medical attention. However, you couldn't help but feel reluctant to leave Kirishima's side. Being carried by him had brought a new sense of intimacy, and you found yourself enjoying his company more than ever.

As if reading your mind, Kirishima stood up and extended a hand to help you up. "Come on, let's get that knee checked out."

You took his hand, and he pulled you up with ease. Inside the agency, you received the medical care you needed, and your knee was wrapped in bandages. As you emerged from the infirmary, Kirishima was waiting for you with that warm smile of his.

"I guess I should head home now," you said with a hint of reluctance. "It's been a long day."

"Actually," Kirishima began, "I thought maybe I could walk you home. Or, um, carry you home again if you're still in pain."

You couldn't help but smile at his offer. "I'd love that, Eijiro. But I don't want to cause you problems…"

He grinned back, a twinkle in his eyes. "Are ya joking? Hop on." Kirishima crouched down, gesturing for you to hop on his back.

With a light leap, you hopped onto Kirishima's back, wrapping your arms around his neck as he stood back up. The world shifted as you were lifted into the air, and you couldn't help but feel giddy like a child again. This time, you didn't mind the pain in your knee as much, for the joy of being with Kirishima far outweighed any discomfort.

As he carried you through the city once again, you couldn't help but reflect on how lucky you were to have such a caring and strong partner. With Kirishima by your side, you felt invincible, both in battle and in life. You rested your chin on his shoulder, enjoying the view from a different perspective.

After reaching your apartment, Kirishima gently set you down on the ground, ensuring you were steady on your feet. The pain in your knee had subsided a bit, but you knew you still needed to take it easy.

"Thank you so much for carrying me all the way here, Eijiro," you said, grateful for his support and care.

He blushed at your words, his ears turning slightly red as well. "Ah, it was nothing, really. I couldn't just leave you to struggle, you know?"

You smiled warmly and, feeling a rush of affection, leaned forward to plant a soft kiss on his cheek.

Kirishima's blush deepened, and he scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. "You don't have to thank me," he mumbled, his voice a mix of embarrassment and delight.

"But I want to," you replied, gazing into his eyes. "You're always there for me, Kirishima. I appreciate everything you do, big or small."

His bashful demeanor melted away, replaced by a warm and genuine smile. "Well, I'm glad I can be there for you. You mean a lot to me, and I'll always support you, no matter what."

You felt your heart swell with affection for the amazing hero standing before you. Without a second thought, you reached out and took his hand in yours, interlocking your fingers.

"Thank you for being the best partner and friend anyone could ask for," you said, sincerity lacing every word.

Kirishima's smile grew wider, his grip on your hand tightening gently. "And thank you for being an incredible hero and an even more incredible person. I'm lucky to have you in my life."

Your heart skipped a beat, and you couldn't help but feel overwhelmed with emotion. In that moment, you realized just how deep your feelings ran for Kirishima, and you knew that the kiss you had shared earlier was just the beginning of something special.

As the evening turned into night, you both stood there, hand in hand, basking in the newfound connection between you. There were no words necessary, for the unspoken understanding and affection were enough to fill the air around you.

With a soft smile, Kirishima leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss on your forehead, a silent promise of his support and love. And in that simple gesture, you knew that you had found someone who would stand by your side through thick and thin.

From that day on, giving you piggyback rides became a cherished tradition between you and Kirishima. Whether it was after a mission or simply spending time together, being carried by him symbolized the unwavering support and love you shared. And as the days turned into months and months into years, your bond with Kirishima only grew stronger, proving that heroes not only save the world but also each other's hearts. You faced countless battles together, each victory strengthening the love between you. And on quieter days, you'd steal moments of tranquility, simply enjoying each other's company, knowing that you were each other's safe haven in a world filled with chaos. Together, you found strength in each other's presence, and with Kirishima by your side, you knew that anything was possible. You had not only found a hero but a partner, a confidant, and a love that would endure any obstacle.

divider by: @cafekitsune

#eijiro kirishima x reader #kirishima eijiro x reader #kirishima x reader #kirishima x you #kirishima eijirou #kirishima x y/n #kirishima fluff #mha fluff #bnha fluff #eijirou kirishima #kirishima #kirishima fanfic #kirishima bnha #bnha x reader #my hero academia fic #x reader #fluff prompts #request completed

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naofaun · 6 months

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i see people asking what morro's appeal to the fandom is, and after some thought, i think i realised what it is.

it's the tragedy of his entire story, from start to finish. the helplessness of it all, the grief, the longing, the parts of your past that haunt you forever (ghost pun not intended).

you look at morro and you don't see the big scary monster that the writers painted him as. you see a boy, a child, who spent his entire life pursuing one single goal that was just barely out of reach. you see a child who died for that goal suffocated in toxic fumes, who lost his home and family and safety for that goal.

we don't know why he was cursed. but as if he hadn't been through enough agony, as if the world hadn't broken this child enough, he wound up in a realm flooded with evil. his mind couldn't handle the trauma of what happened. as if he wasn't fixated enough, his desire became stronger.

he wanted nothing more than to prove himself.

you can see it in the way he talks and acts. he doesn't care about taking over. he doesn't care about the preeminent's goals. if anything, dying in that cave on that night made him all the more determined to prove himself worthy.

he had so much anger, so much terrible sadness in him that he didn't know what to do with it. he had to blame someone. the only person he could reasonably reflect his agony onto was sensei wu, the only man to ever help him.

he came back to ninjago years and years later. the person who got the green gi was no more than a little boy, who had never been trained like he was. who never spent years and years of his life pursuing this goal, dedicating everything to it. hell, he didn't even want it?

even his defeat was tragic. you can see him panicking, doing everything he can to escape destiny. destiny will always wrap its chains around him once more though, because he was finally dragged down to the depths. once more, he would fail his goal. once more, he would watch everything he dedicated himself to simply fade away before his very eyes.

he could have saved himself. he could have taken wu's hand, dragged himself onto that dragon and started a new life.

but he didn't want to. i love the “morro takes wu’s hand and redeems himself” aus as much as the next person, but he didn't want to. he made the active decision to shove the crystal in wu's hand and let death take him once more.

because in the end, he'd lost so much that living wasn't worth it anymore. his goal was never going to be achievable. he was never going to be truly happy. he never learned how to stop and appreciate life, how to love himself and reach his true sense of self like the rest of the ninja.

he died before he could reach his true potential, guys. that dragon was not his, it was lloyd’s. he died before he even got the chance.

unlike the ninjago villains both before and after him, morro has genuine emotion and life to his story. he's not bad for the sake of being bad. he's not just another enemy for lloyd garmadon to defeat. he's a kid who got in over his head, who wasted away trying to break free of his own fate. and he failed.

if anyone reading this has seen day of the departed, then you know morro came back only long enough to warn sensei wu of what was coming for him. the other villains immediately picked up their weapons and scurried off to cause mayhem for the sake of it, but morro was different. he changed. he let go of his grief and accepted his role in the world.

he helped the ninja despite his prior hatred for them (although i truly believe it was jealousy fueled by insecurity and grief, not hatred). sure, he taunted wu a little at first, but you could tell that it was nothing more than a little fun. he was a boy again, he was okay again. there was no reason for him to hurt anyone. he's moved on.

no one knows what happened to him in the departed realm, or why he healed and the other villains didn't. i don't think i want to know, though. it doesn't matter. all that matters is the fact that he's better now.

so, yes. unlike the other ninjago villains, morro’s story is so painfully and breathtakingly human. he has emotion and development that no other antagonist like him got to have. or at least, it certainly didn't feel as raw as his did.

#i am so sorry omg 😭 idk what got into me #{ ♡ } nao : ninjago . . .#ninjago #lego ninjago #morro #morro ninjago #morro lego ninjago #sensei wu #wu #morro wu #ninjago season 5 #ninjago possession #lloyd garmadon #ninjago morro #lego ninjago morro #long post #tw long post #does this count as an essay... probably /j

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lookinghalfacorpse · 5 months

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You don't have to respond to this one, but @ your last tags on the found family trope post, I can't say I haven't been curious if anything like that was ever the case. You've been so careful in painting everyone's relationship to be on trust and healthy reliance on one another in times of need, and Techno + Dream definitely have something more intimate and close going on (which I deeply appreciate btw- I couldn't bear it if someone tried to stick itwall!Dream as a brother to Techno, or put him in alongside Wilbur as a son figure to Phil :shudders:), so I'm VERY curious how detailed those thoughts have gotten at any point in time /lh /but genuine

(talking about my semi-cursed tags on this post)

yes i can talk about this all day !! i think the dynamic that doomsday trio brings is fascinating, and i don't blame those who see it as a nuclear family dynamic because i think the comparison does work in some places, but it's more complicated than that. i touched on it (in vaguely poetic terms) in this post, but i can give more detail here.

c!philza is an old man and an experienced father, and his instinct as a guardian is strong. this is the closest we get to a nuclear family format in itwall; phil definitely calls on some of his skills as a father when he helps dream, but it's a bit more complex than that. phil recognizes that dream is an adult in human years and doesn't need to be babied (hell, he doesn't even baby Wilbur, his own son who's around the same age!). dream needs care, he needs a mentor, and he needs a better self-preservation instinct before he kills himself. i think their relationship is closer to ancient grecian mentorship than fatherhood/sonhood, the only difference is that the mentee is on death's door for a while and needs some extra attention. phil sees himself in dream, dream sees phil as someone he might like to be, and there's a level of mutual respect there.

i also think that techno and dream have a sense of brotherhood, but in the same way that two athletic teammates have a brotherhood. they have a long history of trust between them, with room for playfulness and teasing. there's a lack of touch aversion (which is HUGE for dream), and dream initiates more of their touches (as opposed to phil, where he tends to be more submissive) (i'm thinkin about ch 12 & ch 19).

and, of course, techno & phil have a complicated relationship of their own. i'm always annoyed by headcanons that techno is phil's son-- we see plenty of interactions where they mutually worry over each other and care for each other. the will is Not written like a boy talking to his father. these two are lifelong partners, and that letter is written to someone who techno knows will understand him and trusts to carry out the more sentimental, intangible tasks, like talking to niki and ranboo, with very little instruction.

highly oversimplified but this is the idea. Techno and dream have similar relationships with phil but it's not really sonhood. all built on trust. they've proven to each other that they will keep each other safe.

and honestly.. none of those relationships would have to exclude sex or intimacy. equals/partners can have sex. comrades can have sex. mentors/mentees can have sex (i think people feel weird about this one, but again: think Ancient Grecian). i have Quite A Few scenes in my head about how their sexual relationships might work (especially in the early days when dream isn't feeling good...). i guess in light of everyone being more open about shipping i would consider writing them, i'd just keep them here instead of ao3.

i think both phil and techno consider dream to be heartstoppingly lovely. i think dream would love to be loved. i think phil&techno and techno&dream may have had some encounters Before the start of itwall, so it would just be a matter of tying it all together.

#asks #itwall #sorry i'm writing essays these days i'm just thinkin a lotta thoughts #affections

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notsoattractivearenti · 1 year

Text

Between Us (Christian Pulisic x Fem!Reader)

Song Inspo: They Don't Know About Us - One Direction

WC: 1.2K

Warnings: curse words, a little angst but mostly fluff

A/N: I miss Christian (I mean, don't we all?) so I decided to write a fluff for him 🥹💕 Hope you all enjoy, and I'd love to hear your thoughts through reply/reblog/ask! 🫶 Special thanks to @ariddletobesolved for proofreading 💖 Feedbacks would be highly appreciated!

–––

“They don’t know how special you are

They don’t know what you’ve done to my heart

They can say anything they want

‘Cause they don’t know us”

–––

Since the moment your relationship with Christian went public, you’ve been receiving a lot of mixed reactions. Some are positives, and some are negatives. Dating a famous professional athlete was never in your book, but somehow you met and fell in love with him despite his job and status. Besides, you can’t really control who you love can you? You didn’t care that he’s famous nor will you ever, because it didn’t matter. What truly matters is the genuine love shared between the two of you.

No, you’re not a celebrity. You weren’t famous at all. You work nowhere near the media or even football. You’re just someone ‘ordinary’. You randomly met him at a bar in London during a night-out with your girlfriends – one went to a college in London, and you happened to be in the city to visit her. You knew who Christian was but you didn’t want to freak him out so you tried to act cool, and before you knew it he asked for your number. From there on, the rest is history.

Days before you two went ‘Instagram official’, you were already so anxious about how people were going to react. You know he has a lot of fans, and they could be pretty ruthless with their comments. They basically could get away with anything, since they could create any persona they wanted and stayed anonymous on the internet, which was and still is terrifying to even think about. You didn’t want to hear people talking shit about your relationship, but at the same time you knew it was sort of inevitable. You two wanted to keep it lowkey, but didn’t want to hide it from the world. After long talks and careful considerations, you both decided to go public.

You couldn’t be grateful for the support people have given you, but negative comments about you and your relationship sometimes would mess with your head.

“What the fuck does he find attractive about her??? cause I don’t see it!! 🤮”

“they’re not gonna last. mark my words”

“yikes... everyone knows Pulisic deserves better”

“😒 how they got together in the first place I’ll never know”

“she’s so basic... lmao puli open ur fucking eyes 🙄”

“another episode of clout-chasing girlie dating a footballer”

“if he does terrible on the pitch now u know why”

You’ve been trying to ignore those awful comments, but since you’re not used to the attention, it was hard not to think about those things they’d said. You knew they’re nothing but strangers on the internet, but you couldn’t stop thinking to yourself: what if everything they said was true? Am I not good enough for Christian? Does this relationship not make sense? Are we not going to last?

Christian has been very protective of you, and he’s told you so many times to just ignore everything. He’s been reassuring you that those internet trolls have no idea what they’re talking about.

“Y/N, love... Stop. Just stop looking at those comments.” He took your phone, locked the screen, and put it away.

“You are perfect for me, Y/N, they just don’t know that. God, you’re fucking amazing! Believe me, if they got to know you, they would take their words back.”

You shrugged and shook your head while looking down, “You’re my boyfriend, of course you’d say that.”

His brows knitted as he let out a sigh, “No, that’s not true! Even if I wasn’t, I’d definitely say what I said. Why can’t you see it?”

“Christian...” You paused, “do you think our relationship is going to last? I mean, I love you...” You were fidgeting your fingers, hesitated a little to continue because you were afraid of how he was going to react.

“But I- I just... I don’t think I’m good enough for you,” you whimpered.

“Excuse me?”

You took a deep breath, still avoiding eye contact, “maybe they were right, Chris. You deserve bet-”

“No,” he cut you off before you even finished what you were saying, “don’t even think about it. I wouldn’t have asked you to be my girlfriend if I didn’t think we’re going to last. There is- hey, look at me,” as he lifted up your chin, your eyes met his beautiful chocolate eyes, “there is no one else that fits me better but you, Y/N. You are my one and only. If anything, you are way out of my league.”

You blushed, trying not to giggle but you couldn’t help it. “Dammit Pulisic, you really have a way with words don’t you?”

He grinned, he was pleased to hear your cute little giggle. “I’m the luckiest fucking guy,” he said before he leaned closer to you, his lips was gently pressed against yours for a moment, then he whispered, “I still couldn’t believe you are mine.”

That man really swept you off your feet. You have never experienced this kind of love before. Every single day with him feels like heaven. When it’s just the two of you, it feels like the world revolves around you – nothing else matters but you and him. He is the only man you’ve ever had late night talks with – well, it’s mostly late night for him because you live in the States and you’re like 5 hours behind him. Hell, you both dropped the L bomb to one another a month into your relationship – your friends thought it was way too fast, but the truth is it wasn’t. You had never been so sure about any man ever, and you just knew Christian is different – special, one-of-a-kind.

Before no one acknowledged you, you felt a lot freer. You didn’t have to worry about how others would perceive you or judge you. Now, people are watching your every move, ready to bring up even the tiniest mistake you made just because you’re dating their favorite footballer. You became very self-conscious, and Christian noticed that. He felt guilty because he thought because of him you had to go through this and he knew you didn’t deserve any of the horrible judgements, but he’s never stopped giving you the reassurance you needed. At one point, he wanted to post something on Instagram to defend you, however you told him not to so he didn’t do it.

“Baby...” as he held your hands, “honestly, I just want the world to know you’re mine. I’m sorry that I’ve caused you any trouble, but I don’t want you to worry ‘cause I’m always here for you. They don’t know shit about us, they really don’t...”

“I know Chris, I know. I just, um... I need time to get used to this, you know? This is the risk I have to take to be with you, and I will eventually find my way around it.”

He smiled and nodded, he understood how you were feeling. “Let’s just keep things between us, yeah? It’s more than enough that they now know we’re together. Who cares, right?”

You laughed a bit, “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

“I just want you to know... You’re it for me.” He kissed the top of your head, then rested his forehead against yours. “I love you, Y/N. Now and forever.”

Your cheeks turned bright red and the biggest smile appeared on your face. “I love you, Christian.”

–––

“They don’t know about the things we do

They don’t know about the I love you’s

But I bet you if they only knew,

They would just be jealous of us”

–––

taglist: @pulisicsgirl @neverinadream @masonspulisic @swimmingismywholelife @chelseagirl98 @bracedes @lovelynikol16 @thoseboysinblue @lizzypotter14 @mortirolo @masonsrem

#christian pulisic #christian pulisic x fem reader #christian pulisic x reader #christian pulisic x y/n #christian pulisic imagine #christian pulisic fluff #christian pulisic fanfic #christian pulisic fic

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cinnamonest · 10 months

Text

I'm now into the 5th season of hxh. As soon as I finish this series I will actually make a proper post but in the meantime I want to shout into the void how I feel about some of these bastards. Yes I was too lazy to turn off subtitles before taking hulu screenshots. I've been cutting into my sleep hours to watch this since the past week since I keep having to work overtime so this might be incoherent and delirious idk. I'm not entirely sure I'm awake right now. This might be a dream. Anyway

Hisoka was the only character I was familiar with by name prior to watching and like. I always assumed the pervert schtick was like a one-time line/single scene that people just took and ran with it. I was incorrect

I know full well this man would most likely kill me but like. I think I'd be okay with it. I think it would be a good way to go and I would probably accept it. I'd thank him even. I'd ask him to step on me while he does it. Or maybe I'm right at the threshold where I'm so pathetic I'm genuinely not worth killing which I think I'd also be okay with as long as I can still get knocked to the ground and have him step on my neck. Please sir

Also a large portion of me watching this, up until this past week, has been while I'm at home bc I've been home a lot recently and I often have a parallel play thing going on with my mother where in the evenings I'll watch something or play games while she browses facebook or reads her Bible/Christian books and she'll like pay half-attention and make comments every few minutes on anything I watch. In true parent fashion she's managed to be there for like every scene of random naked shots or weird moaning and says nothing, but once just looked up, made a face of deep discomfort and went back to highlighting her Bible. I think about this a lot. I'm sorry mom

I'm very weak to comic relief men actually and I have a triple weakness to token perv characters and furthermore my ovaries were created as such that men who are incredibly intelligent while also being astoundingly dumb are my kryptonite so my boy, be he as he may, dare I admit, does things to me. I think if you pulled the typical tease line where you say something about having a problem and needing a doctor to inspect you or just flash him he might die on the spot and that is very endearing to me. One could torment this man with the slightest of skin or sensuality it would be very easy. I appreciate you leorio

I want to protect Killua but like does he need it really. Like the "oh poor baby I want to hold him and squeeze him and never let anything harm him" urge is there because of my blatant maternal complexes but at the same time I know full well he does not need protecting and would realistically be the one protecting anyone else but like the urge is still there. I don't care. I WILL find something to protect him from and I WILL do it

Also very tsun. I can sense it. I know I'm dumb and weak and I would get snarky comments about it but that's okay. I would let the middle school aged boy bully me. I'd be okay with that

I think Illumi looks kind of like an insect. However he also terrifies me a little bit but I don't think that would particularly bother him. I think I could tell him both that he terrifies me and that he looks like a bug and he would have an entirely neutral response. Would probably just ask what kind of bug but may be disappointed if I name a non-cool bug. I'd probably say a grasshopper. I don't know how he would feel about that

I think what would be infuriating to me most is it is difficult to get much of a reaction out of this dude. Like you can be a total nightmare to have as a captive and the most you'll get is a :/ response. In attitude at least, like he'd probably still snap my wrist if deemed appropriate but would do it with just a mildly exasperated face/voice. I would try so hard to get a strong reaction and would never get it and that infuriates me. What right do you have to infuriate me like this bug man. Stop staring at me with them big ol eyes

I think if this man were to be living a normal life and not running with criminals he would wear socks with sandals on a daily basis. Like those thick white halfway up the calves socks and tan buckled sandals worn exclusively by boomer middle aged dads. And it's not the only trait he would share with middle aged men either I think he would care deeply about the quality of his lawn and mispronounce foreign things in a way that is borderline creative for how wrong it is. I think he just is a middle aged boomer dad trapped in a younger man's body. Release this man into a Home Depot and he will immediately adapt to his natural habitat

I am terrified of this man because due to who I am as a person I immediately evaluate all male specimens on what I think sex with them would be like, and cannot imagine a scenario involving this man where I come out of it without actual internal damage. Like you know how people joke about "rearranging your guts/insides" well this would be that but like actually genuinely. I think intercourse with this tank of a man would automatically necessitate medical attention. However do not mistake my horror for hesitancy because organ rupture is a price I will willingly pay for the experience of a realistic simulation of what I imagine it feels like to be a sick gazelle that falls behind the rest of the herd only to start hearing suspenseful nature documentary music

I cannot look at this man without my blood pressure immediately rising. I have never been simultaneously so strongly attracted to yet have such a strong desire to strangle someone. I think the worst part of this is that he would somewhat let me attempt to strangle him but would find it endearing and would start going on an analysis of my personhood and I will be real with you all that would peak my fury and I would become violent. And blah blah "understanding myself" hey man can you maybe not mass murder and go on your journey of self discovery by doing drugs or taking a road trip or something like a normal person in their quarter life crisis. Is that so hard.

As my fingers type these words I can feel my heart rate increasing and I am filled with immense fury and arousal at the same time. Why are you attractive? What is wrong with me? I hate it and I hate myself for it. I have to unironically take a break from typing to take a deep breath. I have to move on because I'm getting heart palpitations

Shalnark seems underappreciated. I love him so much but he also terrifies me in a way none of the others do. Like sure being blatantly cruel or loud or huge like some of the others is one thing but he's too cheery. It scares me on a visceral level. Sir why are you smiling like that. I do not trust it. Or rather realistically I know I WOULD trust it if I met this man as a stranger because I'm very gullible and that would not end well for me. This boy would probably be like one of the absolute worst people to end up stuck with once you get into it but that is very well hidden from the surface and I do not like that. I know I'm naive as all hell and I would fall for the same tricks over and over and I just know that would be used against me

On the bright side though this does mean he would actually fit the classic, original yandere trope since originally yanderes are supposed to be super sweet and cheery externally, so there's that

My skrungly. My tiny son. Y'all do not understand my predicament because I have a NEED to squish his face in my hands, I have an unbearable urge to pat his head and ruffle his hair, it is a literal physical intrinsic need like food and water and I need this but like at what cost. Is the price one I am willing to pay. The answer is probably yes actually. What are a few broken fingers for a moment of pure bliss. Likewise even if by a mere 2 centimeters I am taller than this man and that brings me great satisfaction. I hold great power in my hands. I would be sure to bring this matter up on a daily basis at great risk to my well-being

Baby boy you are the warmth of my soul and the love of my life and the brightest star in my night sky which is really saying something because you have about as much positive energy as a funeral. Regardless. Baby boy. Baby

I want Kurapika to know I love him. If Kurapika has 100000000 fans I'm one of them. I'm Kurapika has 10 fans I'm one of them. If Kurapika has 0 fans I am dead. If I were a shounen anime protagonist that just got the shit beaten out of me and I'm crumpled on the ground on the verge of unconsciousness and/or death I would have flashbacks and imagery of Kurapika go through my head and then I'd get a sudden burst of willpower and energy to miraculously get back up and kill the villain in a single blow. If I'm having a bad day and a singular thought of Kurapika passes through my mind it becomes a good day. Knowing Kurapika is a spiritual experience for me. I have a small orgasm every time my eyes are graced with Kurapika's visage. I think about Kurapika at minimum 127 times daily and if I fail to do this I will die instantly. I would protect Kurapika with my life. And by God I would gladly volunteer myself for clan rebuilding. Sir if you ever want to spread your bloodline I am right here. I will leap at the chance to spend the rest of my life as your personal incubator. I feel like he'd be paranoid and overprotective and lock me in the same house forever but you know what? I'm fine with that. Walking through our house at night will be like a semi-obscure 2000s Japanese horror rpg because every step you take there's a set of big red eyes staring at you but instead of weird Japanese demons its just pouty tiny kurtas. I am in physical pain because the most screen time he's had in ages is a phone call. Where is my boy. What have they done with my boy. If he does not return soon I will become violent

#i need to compile my mom's commentary because oh my God #she doesn't understand anything going on but comments all the time and it cracks me up #shes very opinionated on the characters #but can never remember their names #every few minutes of watching in silence from across the room i hear her just #'oh him again. i do not like him. i've had enough of him'#and just resumes her Bible study

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coldresolve · 23 days

Text

Hi, I'm Elias, I'm a 26yo trans guy from Denmark. I write shit, I draw shit, and I get into unneccesarily tedious arguments with anons about torture apologia in fiction. I think that sums up my vibe

I've made a few posts about this already, but tl;dr: the Danish NHS has been refusing to treat me for gender dysphoria for the better part of a year now because they've deemed me "unstable." Unstable how, you ask?

I have depression.

No, that is quite literally it. Full context under the readmore.

Fighting to be heard and having the door repeatedly slammed in your face sucks peak ass, and I'm done now. The NHS is so lackluster when it comes to trans people, all of a sudden, it makes perfect sense to me why 31% of transgender Danes get HRT outside of the NHS.

And I'd rather not have to turn to the black market, so rn I'm hoping to get a prescription with GenderGP. The issue is, I'm poor as fuck and can't afford the start-up fees for the forseeable future - unless I do something like this. I hate asking others for money, and I hate it even more if I'm not in a place where I can give anything in return. But I also recognize I'm in over my head with this, so. If you've got a cent or two to spare, I'd be grateful as hell.

I've mathed it out, and my best estimate is that I need around 3500,- DKK / $500 USD. Again, this is just to cover the initial subscription as well as mandatory consultations/blood tests. I should be able to cover the prescriptions on my own, as well as further tests/consultations down the line, so I'm hoping this is a one-and-done sort of thing.

paypal: [email protected]

Also, important note. We're in a global cost of living/housing crisis and this isn't a strict life-or-death situation. If you're in a tough spot right now, don't send me anything, that'd just make me feel worse about asking. I appreciate the thought but you gotta take care of your own needs first. Peace and take care ✌️

So I've been dealing with major depressive disorder since I was 11. It runs in my family, and as you might imagine, after 15 years of living with this thing, I've learned how to manage it pretty well by now. I know what it's like to genuinely be unstable - and if I were in a place like that, no problem, I'd be open about that. I wouldn't be making decisions like this. I know myself. You kind of have to when you're dealing with a chronic mental illness.

Here's where I am right now: I've got no suicidal ideation, been clean from self harm for four years, no psychosis, no inpatient admissions for the last five years. I live on my own, take my meds, and I'm keeping my life in order. Depressed, yes, but about as stable as someone with my history can get, and ask anyone who knows me, me wanting to get on HRT isn't some spur of the moment decision. I've done a fucking decade of soul searching, and a few years ago, I finally (duh) reached the conclusion that living as a woman isn't something I can even fake being content with - believe me, I've tried. I'm well aware of the scope of medical transition, but I'm settled in who I am. And I just want to live like me now. That's the only thing I want.

If it counts for anything, my partner and family have supported me through this, which has been priceless obviously, but it also goes to show that me saying "I'm capable of making medical decisions" isn't purely a personal assessment. I'm pretty sure they'd speak up if they thought I was being unstable about it or whatever

But the CPH clinic for sexology, who have consistently refused to listen to me telling them all this, have somehow magically aquired divine knowledge on my capacity to make adult decisions about my own body, and on the basis that I have MDD, they're refusing to even set me up for a preliminary interview - one that would preceed a 6 month full-team psych evaluation before the prospect of HRT would even come up. They said in their latest refusal that they wont accept another referral from me until a year after my last in-clinic conversation with them, which happened on October 24th, 2023 - meaning that with the NHS, if they accepted my referral come October (which I don't have much faith they will), the earliest I could possibly get on HRT is April 2025. Arguing for my own sanity would've sucked enough as is, but it's made harder by the fact that they won't even talk to me. You're a trans guy who would like healthcare, but you have a mental illness? Good luck, you're on your own. Long live the Danish bureaucracy.

Dysphoria makes me fucking miserable. I'd rather not have to write a sob story here, and tumblr is like 80% trans people so I guess a good portion of you can imagine why waiting another year for the possibility of maybe-perhaps-if-all-goes-well getting on HRT would not actually make me less miserable about it.

So. I'm sitting down next week along with my mom to file a formal complaint with the patient's rights committee. I don't know what to call this other than some form of discrimination on the basis of mental illness, because nothing in my current situation would prohibit me from making medical decisions for myself. And I honestly don't think that a complaint is going to do much, but I intend to make it obnoxiously long, because by law, a specialized doctor and an attorney have to read through the whole thing. If you can't beat 'em, make 'em read 50 pages of you going into detail about why you think they suck, right

And yeah, like I said, in the meantime, I'm trying to go via GenderGP. It'd be nice if my poor ass could get HRT via the NHS instead of having to pay out of pocket, but apparently the bar for entry requires that you 1) have gender dysphoria to the point where it impedes normal function and 2) somehow aren't mentally ill. Who wrote these rules? Some 60yo cis guy in a suit in Christiansborg, I imagine.

Feel free ask about anything relating to this whole situation, I'll be as open as I can about it, cause I understand that if you're going to give money to someone, you want to know what it's going to. Though I hope you understand I'm not going to doxx myself more than I already have now, or give you my entire medical history - only what's relevant to my current situation.

I know Denmark is a welfare state and on a global scale we're doing alright, but I hope you don't mind if I say this: This shouldn't be happening as often as it does. Fuck the Danish NHS.

#other #slight self doxx ig #idec ill post my bare ass for testosterone #do rb if u want but also no pressure. i want this whole thing to be on a want-to only basis alright

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pineappleciders · 1 year

Note

hey!! i saw that ur writing reqs were open and i was wondering if u could write (platonic) hcs of the main 4 finding out their friend, reader, is trans ftm?

++reader transitioned before meeting the main 4 and is afraid of revealing it to them, worried that their relationship as friends might change somehow or they might not even see him as a guy anymore

take your time!! i love ur writing btw !!!!!!

sp main 4 finding out reader is trans ftm

A/N: thank you so much!!! i can do a mtf or nb vers for anyone who wants it :) i'm sorry if anything is offensive or anything!!!

TRIGGER WARNING: some transphobia on cartmans part (i know this sounds bad but jsut read it😭) and probably some talk about dingalings and hoohas (very briefly)

stan marsh

he's curious about it!! like he'll ask a bunch of questions about how you found out and what it means and stuff

he honestly probably doesn't know a lot about it before u explain it to him. like he knows people are transgender but he never learned about gender dysphoria or why people transition

he might ask a few,, personal questions. he genuinely doesn't mean to be rude or weird he's just curious !! will stop and apologize if you are uncomfortable

"seriously, you don't look like you were born a girl. i never would've been able to tell."

it might make him question his own gender??? like he might talk to you about it sometimes and he explains it as 'not really feeling like either a boy or a girl'

other than that he doesn't really care, like he doesn't treat you any differently. honestly he probably forgets it if anything😭😭 like in the T.M.I. episode he asks why you aren't lining up to get ur wiener measured and then he's like oh yeah oops i forgot💀

kyle broflovski

"oh. really? like, actually? huh."

he's honestly just confused as you've never said anything about it before. he might ask why you didn't tell him but when you explain he understands and tells you he wouldn't view you differently no matter what

"i mean, i think it's stupid that some people deliberately go out of their way to misgender people. like, you've been a boy and i've always seen you as a boy, so why would i purposefully make you feel bad? that's just stupid!"

he appreciates if you teach him a bit more about it, 'cause he doesn't know a whole lot

i feel like he'd purposefully do more,, boyish things with you???? like he invites you to play football or play video games more or like idk. do boy things.

he doesn't do it to single you out, he just really wants to make sure you feel like you fit in with the rest of the guys, so he's always inviting you to meetings with the dudes and treating you like a brother

eric cartman

i feel like there are a lot of different ways this could go, but mainly i feel like he's never actually going to view you as a girl?? if that makes sense

like he'll make fun of you and probably tease you (similar the whole sand in kyles vagina thing and calling him ms. broflovski and shit yk??) but no matter how much he tries to crack transphobic jokes he still sees you as a guy

he honestly might be a little uncomfortable at first because he feels like you're 'a spy for the girls'. but he quickly gets a stern talking-to from kyle and at least doesn't voice that opinion anymore

either way as much as he hates it he still sees you as a dude, if anything it just makes him uncomfortable to think about ur (or anyones) sex so he just goes with the flow. literally dress up as anything and he'll treat you like it. he doesn't want to put that much effort into caring

so yeah he makes fun of you and misgenders you but not in a genuine way. he can try but he still views u as one of the guys so he just accepts it and moves on. again he doesn't care enough to dwell on it

kenny mccormick

he might ask a few questions like stan but he genuinely on god fr doesn't care. it literally does not affect his view on you at all

he doesn't necessarily fully understand what being trans means but he doesn't really need to to understand that u are what u are. like if ur happy being a dude then be a dude he doesn't get what's so hard to grasp for some people

kenny isn't really one for labels. he also hasn't really explored his gender and stuff and honestly?? he doesn't plan on it. it just doesn't matter to him, he's fine with just living his life (when he's actually alive and living it)

even if he does have a few erm personal questions he keeps them to himself. he knows it could be a touchy subject and he really just thinks that whatever you were born as isn't any of his business

he will defend u whenever you face harassment from certain people, like he honestly just tells them that it's not their business and to fuck off. he mostly jumps in because he knows it probably hurts to hear stuff like that and tries to tell you that it doesn't matter what other people think, all that matters is that ur happy in your skin :)

#south park #sp x reader #south park x reader #platonic sp x reader #south park x platonic reader #stan marsh x reader #kyle broflovski x reader #eric cartman x reader #kenny mccormick x reader #sp headcanons #sp fandom #pineappleciders

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danyvhell-writes · 11 months

Text

General Kuras headcanons (Touchstarved)

GN reader - no warnings | Literally my second fav character in this game, love him sm ! Had a lot to say about this sweet angel so here we are. I want him to read me a bedtime story, then we can cuddle. Also I might post about Leander next time...

• Divine smell like omg the aromas, the fragrance ! A mix of clean clothes, nutmeg, honeysuckle & jasmine. (my personal fav but it's up to you)

• Radiates warmth, physically and also in terms of energy. Whenever he's near you, you can't help but relax and feel welcome. He makes you feel safe no matter what. He thinks it's cute that you like hugging him so much.

• If you're short don't worry ! Kuras won't mind reaching things you can't, he'll be your personal assistant for high supplies you can't get.

• We know he uses he/him pronouns but being an angel, a being of pure light & love, would technically make him genderless/agender ? Can he shapeshift ? Surely, but who truly knows... Ah what a gorgeous mysterious being.

• He's able to perceive souls and energies. He doesn't need to 'know' people to actually know them if that makes sense.

• He finds you fascinating and so do you ! You love listening to whatever he has to say because it's genuinely so interesting, his thought process is so intriguing. You two always have endless conversations about so many topics ! You'd never have thought he'd be this talkative but oh do you enjoy it.

• Have a calm reading session with him and he's yours ! This is his vision of the perfect date. Can't read because you're tired ? He'll read for you while you relax, charmed by his soothing voice. Of course, he loves your voice too ! Read him your favourite book, he will listen with much attention. He's all ears.

• If you're a very spiritual person, you'll love him even more. Talk to him about spirits, energies, deities etc… there's so much he'll teach and explain to you ! This tall guy is full of knowledge (big brain over here).

• Remember when he said "Do not be afraid." ? He meant it ! I think he's still used to his original form and so doesn't want to scare anyone. His current form is more accessible for mortals and he's trying his best to 'fit in'. (His incarnation is the opposite of scary but I don't think he realizes how attractive he is)

• He's omnilingual. That's it. No but fr, I don't know what his role is/was precisely as an angel (if he was a messenger or a guardian) but he understands any languages ! He tries to hide this ability because how could he explain it without sounding suspicious ? "How do I know javanese & martiniquan creole ? Oh, well it's a long story. I do not think you would find this interesting, really MC."

• Want to share jewelry with him ? Of course, go on. Give him your stuff, he'll love wearing whatever you have especially if it's golden. If you have big earrings like his he'll love them, big 10/10, sharing is caring as we say ! You guys would switch earrings a lot and I think it's adorable.

• If you're polyglot, he'd appreciate greatly to talk with you in your native tongue or other. Need some help with your vocabulary or something ? He's here to help ! Don't hesitate to ask him anything. → Would be really fun to have you, Kuras and Ais talking in other languages together ! Imagine the possibilities !!! Such interesting conversations omg

• 100% the type of person to gift you accessories and aesthetic presents. "This brooch reminded me of you ! I thought you would like to add it to your collection. What do you think ?" and you're just standing "???? Thanks omg you're so sweet !" 😭

• I'm sure he has a lot of fun facts about anatomy and medicine in general. He's also the type of person to tell the most gruesome anecdote about one of his patient and go "Oh but they are completely fine now, you do not need to worry MC :)" like okay if you say so doc…

• We know he's not the most expressive but you get him with a simplicity that is surprising ! Whether it's the tone he uses, his choice of words or the way he looks at his interlocutor, you can easily decipher how he feels. People say he's distant and appears a little cold but you know he's the most affectionate person you've ever seen !

• Always buys you food and invites you to eat outside to make up for the fact that he cooks badly ! He's truly sorry for his poor cooking skills but is always willing to feed you the best products in town. Please, teach him some basics. How can you be a good doctor when your food is causing stomach aches ??

• Afraid to be too comfortable around him ? Don't worry, he's a doctor. If you think sneezing or burping in front of him is embarrassing, remember he sees sick people and corpses on a daily basis. ↑ If you happen to sneeze next to him and feel gross because of the snot, no prob ! He'd simply go "Oh, bless you. Do you need a tissue ? I have my handkerchief if you want." with his cute lil smile.

• If texting was a thing in TS, he would 100% overuse the ":)" smiley. You'll find it at the end of every freakin text, you can't run away from it lmaoeuzfh. "Good morning MC, how are you ? :)" "One of my patient has been affected by -insert horrible affliction-, therefore I will see you this afternoon :)" "I'm deeply sorry to hear that your mentor passed away, may they rest in peace :)" "Ais said that I, I quote, 'give off milf energy' ? Would you mind explaining this term to me ? I asked Leander but he seemed uncomfortable. :)"

• Likes going on walks with you. Think you can't keep up with his long legs ? Just wrap your arm around his and he won't lose you. He's very careful to adapt to your pace so you can enjoy the moment. → Would definitely pick flowers for you while you guys are strolling around the city. He knows flower language so he'd tell you what they mean if you want. Also you have to tell him your favourite flower(s), he'll gift you the best bouquets ever (he would make them himself of course) !

• He's a doctor so he might go picking plants and flowers for his medicines. Just imagine him with a little basket, wandering around fields like a little witch :') Go flowerpicking with him please 😩 he'd love to share this activity with you !

• Whenever you get home after spending time with him, you always find white feathers hidden on & in your clothes. Can be on your vest, in your pockets, even in your bag ! At first you wonder if Kuras doesn't own a bird and he's like "Oh ! Do not worry, these are mine." "Yours ? Like your pet's ?" "No dear, mine. I happen to lose my feathers sometimes, it's not convenient and I am sorry if this bothers you." "...Oh hm, okay ?". So then you just collect them cause they're pretty and soft. (He wouldn't mind if you used the small ones to stuff your pillows really.)

• Lets you braid his hair. If you have some pretty accessories that go well with his aesthetic, don't hesitate ! He likes how you touch his hair with softness, always careful.

• This is him. No need for further explanation.

#touchstarved game #touchstarved #kuras #touchstarved kuras #kuras x reader #gn reader #touchstarved headcanons #headcanons #touchstarved demo #red spring studios #kuras is so elegant and just divine !! i love him #he's so mother #give me requests if you guys want ! I'll be glad tbh #my hcs

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3mcwriting · 1 year

Text

Fading, Part 2

Warnings: language, grief, mentions of death

Note: I won't be making another part to this, this is the final bit.

"I'm your what?" you asked, clearly confused.

The medical professionals quickly left the room, not wanting to disturb the grieving woman and the super soldier.

"You're my soulmate-" Steve almost cursed at how the situation. "God, I'm so sorry. This is terrible timing," Steve took off his shirt, showing the new tattoo over his heart. The name (y/n)(l/n) scrawled on his chest in loopy cursive writing.

"You..." your voice faded as you realized the only worlds scrawled across his skin were your name. "Why are there no other tattoos? Shouldn't all the things I love be there too?"

He put his shirt back on, "Well," Steve thought about it, sadness flooding his voice, "I suppose it's because when your sister got sick, you stopped having time to appreciate all the things you loved. A couple of weeks ago I was completely covered in tattoos. But over time they just faded."

"I guess that makes sense. When my sister got diagnosed I slowly stopped caring about anything else—I didn't have the luxury to care about anything else," you muttered softly. "This absolutely sucks." The (e/c) eyed woman said, louder. "Why of all times would I meet my soulmate when my sister fucking dies?!"

"I'm sorry," Steve moved to place a hand on your arm.

You recoiled from his touch. "Look. it's not your fault, but I need time, okay? This is a lot to deal with at once."

Steve nodded, backing up. "Yeah, I'm sorry."

"No, no, stop apologizing. Look-" you looked so empty, "-can you just go?"

Everything in Steve was telling him to stay—after all, he spent years thinking he didn't have a soulmate and then weeks worrying about them—and now that he'd finally found you, you were asking him to go. But he remembered the pain he felt when Bucky died, the anger, the sadness, he knew grief.

Sometimes people just needed time.

"Yeah, I'll go. But please, talk to me. I know what it's like when you lose everything you love, so here." He scribbled his number down on the notepad by the bedside. "You can talk to me whenever, about whatever. Just—don't feel alone, because you're not."

You nodded and sat down next to the bed, holding your sister's hand. Your eyes caught on the word written on the inside of your left wrist, 'Brooklyn'.

Steve sighed and left, throwing a look back at his distraught soulmate. You met his gaze and stood up, hurrying to him and throwing your arms around him. He was stunned at first, but quickly responded. Winding his strong arms around you, he rubbed your back.

They stood there like that, you sobbing into his shirt while he held you. "I'm sorry," you said, pulling away. "I shouldn't have done that."

"No, no, it's ok. I told you, I'm here." Steve said genuinely, blue eyes full of nothing but sincerity.

"Thank you," you said. You returned to your seat next to your sister. "I'll text you when it's a better time," you managed, "but right now I think I'd appreciate some time with my sister."

He nodded, eyes sad at what you were going though. "Yes, of course." Steve actually leaving the room this time.

You looked at your sister, eyes red from the tears you had shed. "Why now? Why...why?"

"I'm sorry, Ms. (l/n) but you have to say your goodbyes." The doctor said, appearing in the doorway.

"Can I have a little longer please?" Your (e/c) eyes still on the body in front of you.

The doctor hesitated, "I guess for a couple more minutes. Only 5 though."

You nodded your head. "I wish you were here," your voice cracking as if the sound of your heart breaking could be transferred through your vocals.. "Why aren't you here? I'm sorry, so sorry. I was supposed to protect you—you're my little sister and I failed you." You squeezed your sister's hand one last time and placed one last soft kiss on her forehead. "I'm going to miss you so much." You stepped back from the bed, wiping your tears as the doctor came back in.

Memories flashed through your head of moments with your younger sister.

That night, when (y/n) got home she immediately went to her room.

And cried.

All night long.

•••••

"You met your soulmate?! And you just let her walk away?!" Natasha was incredulous after watching how Steve had become hyper fixated on finding his soulmate and now he just let her go.

"Her sister had just died. She deserves time to come to terms with that without having to worry about a soulmate." Steve explained.

"Ok," Natasha conceded. "Did you at least get her phone number?" Steve winced, telling her everything she needed to know. "Really Steve? You didn't even ask for her phone number?"

"I-," Steve said, "I gave her my phone number."

•••••

Your eyes rested their gaze on a dark screen, a sigh escaping you.

What exactly were you supposed to say?

Hey, this is your soulmate that you met two months ago and haven't talked to since.

Oh, remember me? Yeah, we met while my sister was dying in her hospital bed, yeah good times.

You sighed. "Fuck it."

Turning on the phone, you went to the number and quickly typed in a message then sent it before you could stop herself again.

Hi, this is (y/n) (l/n). We met two months ago, sorry for not contacting you sooner. It's been hectic, if you get a chance text me.

You bit your lip, anticipation already building. When nothing popped up for a couple minutes you turned off the screen and sighed. He's probably busy or something, you reasoned with yourself. After all, he's Captain fucking America. He probably hasn't even noticed my lack of communication. The thought hurt, but it was probably true.

He looked down at the object in his hand, almost like it was a wondrous trinket from some far off land.

But no, it was just a simple cell phone.

There was nothing remarkable about it, other than the fact that it was ridiculously outdated. To the eyes of Steven Grant Rogers though, it could've displayed the secret to salvation across its dim screen and he wouldn't look at it like he was looking at it now.

"Hi, this is (y/n) (l/n). We met two months ago, sorry for not contacting you sooner. It's been hectic, if you get a chance text me."

"She texted me..." He was ecstatic to the point where he could barely comprehend the situation. After all, the first( and last) time he saw you was when your sister was in her hospital bed. Then, he'd spent two months worrying about you, hoping a text message would light up his screen and tell him that you were okay, that even though you were grieving, you were still healthy and your mental health was good. The last time he worried about someone like this was when he found out Bucky was captured behind enemy lines.

Then he looked at the time he had gotten the message, 8:32 AM. His fingers went across the flip phones buttons as fast as they could. Typing a message out quickly and clumsily before sending it off to her.

"Hello, I'm so hapoy to hear from you. Dom't apologise, you needed time and that's perfectly fine. How are you? I hope yoi're doing ok, thanks for reaching out."

He winced at the typos, his clumsy fingers weren't exactly the most efficient way to send text messages. His attention was quickly diverted when he saw the speech bubbles, showing that you were typing back.

You felt a small smile grace your features as you read the text. The moment you had stepped out of the shower, the phone had lit up with a notification.

What stood out to you was that he was asking how you were doing. Not a question for the two month silence, but a hope that she was alright and an acceptance of her situation.

"Yeah, I'm alright. How are you?"

A couple weeks passed, you and Steve texting whenever you had the time.

You were scared.

Not because of Steve, Steve was a sweetheart.

But because of how easy it was to talk to him, how easy it was to smile because of him.

How easy it was to care about him.

It had only been about 3 months since her sisters death and yet, you were already happier. An underlying sense of guilt plagued your mind whenever you texted him, whenever you smiled.

Barely a month of only texting and you were already worried that you were falling in love with him.

Granted, he was your soulmate, so it's to be expected that you felt so strongly about him.

You just didn't expect it.

The whole experience was like diving from atop a cliff, the exhilarating feeling, excitement, the falling.

Because you were falling, and falling fast.

You could only hope that the water at the bottom wasn't hiding jagged rocks beneath the surface.

"We're closed," you said, hearing the bell above the doorway ring, announcing someone's entrance. You stopped wiping down the counter, looking up and freezing. The cleaning rag lying limp on the shiny counter, having been dropped by the incredulous woman.

(E/c) eyes met blue eyes.

The unmistakable face of your soulmate.

"(Y/n)?" he asked, a surprised expression coming across his face.

"Hi, Steve," you said casually, the tone not at all matching the way your heart was pounding like a jackhammer.

A bright smile grew on his face. "Wow, I was just getting away from the paparazzi and I found you." Disbelief and happiness both clearly present in his voice. "How are you?" he asked, finally moving away from the door.

The (e/c) eyed woman stood frozen behind the counter, "I'm good." You said back, then reality sunk in. How the fuck did this happen? "Why are you here?" you asked, then mentally facepalmed. He just said he was escaping the paparazzi.

His smile didn't falter though. "I was exploring the city and some paparazzi found me. I thought I could hide here." His expression changed to one of guilt. "Can I hide here for now?"

Here he was, Captain America, your literal soulmate, asking if he could stay in the small cafe with you.

"Yeah. Yes, of course", you said, snapping out of her thoughts. You grabbed the rag, continuing to wipe down the counter. It was already spotless, but you needed to do something with her hands.

Your eyes met his and you almost gasped at the way he was looking at you.

Like you'd hung the moon, and every star in the sky. Eyes full of wonder. Almost as if he couldn't believe you were standing in front of him, your very existence bringing an unimaginable sense of belonging and adoration.

For Steve, he fell in love with her within the first few days when they were texting. He had always thought that texting was a lazy thing people today now did instead of actually talking to people. But messaging the you brought him such an easy sense of belonging that he'd been sorely lacking since waking up in the twenty-first century.

You were funny and intelligent and could always make him smile. Normally, he was Captain America, the super soldier, American golden boy, but with you, he was just the skinny guy from Brooklyn.

The one who always stood up for what's right, had no clue how to talk to women.

The real him, not the show pony America paraded around.

He loved it.

But most importantly, he loved you.

From then on, they started seeing each other more often. Once a month, to twice, to once a week, to almost every day.

Steve was busy with Avengers work, and you were busy getting your PhD while working at the cafe they unexpectedly saw each other.

Everything was perfect.

At least, that's what it appeared like.

Both Steve and you had had a dull throbbing sensation where their soulmate tattoos were, since about two months after they had met at the coffee shop.

You became almost frantic when you saw that a smudged name had appeared beneath Steve's.

What does it mean to have a smudged name underneath your soulmate tattoo?

1,300,672 google search results

To have a faded, or smeared name beneath your original soulmate tattoo, means that you have a third soulmate. One who used to have a soulmate, but their soulmate died, passing their soulmate bond onto you.

(E/c) eyes stared at the new tattoo,

It almost looked like someone had written a name on your skin in Sharpie, but then had rubbed it, smearing the ink but leaving the letters readable.

It wasn't just any name though.

It was your soulmate.

Your other soulmate.

James Buchanan Barnes

#steve rodgers x reader #steve rodgers imagine #steve rogers #marvel x reader #avengers x reader #soulmate au #steve rogers soulmate au #mcu x reader #mcu #reader insert

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