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#i need a reminder death does more harm than good sometimes
x-liv25-jamieswife · 2 days
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sad avery head canons
@ariscats requested this in a comment under my sad grayson hcs, and i'm more than happy to do it for my fav girl avery. trigger warning for self-harm, suicidal thoughts, and sexual assault. pls don't read if this might trigger you, and if you ever need help, there are helplines you can contact for free. family and friends are obviously also an option (if you'd rather talk to a stranger, you can always dm me (or whoever you feel comfortable with) <3). sorry if some of this doesn't make sense. i wrote this at 1 am. hope you enjoy<3.
avery used to pull out a guitar (cause i hc she can play the guitar) and sing songs for her mom when she was on her death bed
she now visits her mom's grave and does the same thing. she sings her mom's favorite songs on the verge of tears (if she isn't already crying).
avery used to wear an elastic band around her wrist and would snap it repeatedly until her wrist became sore and red (it didn't always make her stop though) when she was feeling overwhelmed or did smth she deemed wrong.
whenever avery would drive across bridges or anything really high up, she would think about jumping off of it.
she used to get her mom or libby to help her bake cookies that she would bring to school to try to get people to become her friend (it never worked)
she used to eat lunch in the back of the courtyard in a secluded place most of the time bc no one wanted to eat with her (until she met max obviously)
i'm currently rereading tig and i can't help but notice how uncomfortable she becomes when someone touches her so i hc drake or some other random creep sexually assaulted her once (or multiple times) and that's the reason why she seems so uncomfortable with physical touch.
she used to cry in her mom's arms wondering why she wasn't good enough for people to want to be her friend
when her and libby were struggling to get by and couldn't afford food, she would save the food for libby and not eat (she would tell her she ate at the diner she worked at but didn't)
when she realized, at the age of six, that her father was a piece of shit who didn't actually want her, she started trying to find faults in her to explain why this might be (she thought that if she could 'fix' herself, her father might want her)
she sometimes purposely gives herself papercuts when she feels really numb just to make herself feel something
when she would live in her car, she would sometimes continuously bash her head on the steering wheel wishing her life could be different.
when she was younger, to get people to like her, she would give them everything she had. she would do their homework for them, would cover for them when they wanted to cause trouble in the school, etc, but, in the end, it was always temporary
whenever she comes across someone who looks like sheffield grayson she freezes up in fear/shock. a little voice in her head tells her she's in danger and they'll hurt her.
after all of the almost-death experiences she's been through, she developed a panic disorder (this is already sort of confirmed) that she has to treat with pills.
she sometimes takes the haters' comments to heart (the comments about her weight, etc). she would start telling herself that skipping one meal wouldn't hurt. jameson noticed really early on though and stopped her before it became too severe.
she's convinced people would be better off without her and that she only causes pain and destruction everywhere she goes (bc of what happened with toby)
she actually hates getting drunk because it reminds her too much of her father. jameson started to notice that she would get really uncomfortable whenever he got drunk so he started to drink less. when he did drink though, he made sure it wasn't enough to get drunk.
because of everyone comparing her to emily, she's convinced herself that she's just jamie's second option and she'll never measure up (personality wise, looks wise, everything). jamie and her talked about it a lot and she's now less insecure.
she gets terrified when she hears noises at night bc she's convinces someone's there to hurt her
she forgives people so easily bc she desperately wants people to actually like her.
in the books she says she doesn't allow herself to want to want things bc it could potentially distract her/hurt her. i also think she doesn't allow herself to want things bc she doesn't think she deserves to want anything.
when she's in a stressful situation or she's having a panic attack, she'll start scratching her arms really roughly until they start to bleed to get herself to focus on anything other than the stress/panic.
the scratches on her arms became too obvious so she started scratching her sides instead.
she can't watch any tv shows with violence/war bc the loud sounds remind her too much of the shooting.
one of the reasons why she realized her father was a piece of shit was bc, once, he got way too drunk and slapped her. that was sort of like the catalyst for her.
bc she grew up so isolated, she's afraid of emotional and physical intimacy. she's afraid she'll start liking feeling loved/close to someone too much since she believes it'll never last (jamie showed her she was wrong)
i'm an averyjameson stan so don't take this the wrong way but avery was affected by jamie thinking of her as only a game way more than she lets on. even after they got together, she was paranoid that he had ulterior motives.
she blames herself whenever something goes wrong in the foundation or hawthorne house even when she had nothing to do with the problem.
she's extremely paranoid when it comes to locking her bedroom door and stuff like that bc of how often her privacy is invaded.
i said this in another post but, especially before she inherited the money, she would sometimes smoke weed to lessen the stress she felt for a little while.
she hates going to sleep bc her sleep is always invaded by horrendous nightmares. it became so bad she ended up in the hospital (jamie was absolutely terrified and made her promise to talk to him more).
she has this one stuffed animal that her mom gave her not long before she passed that she cries into whenever she feels like her life is going to shit.
before she inherited the money, she was actually near her breaking point. she was seriously considering if staying alive was actually worth it.
before she inherited the money, she used to count on her fingers how many people would miss her when she died to convince herself to stay alive (the number was never more than three). the fact that the number was so low made her feel even shittier and made her spiral.
her grief for her mom is so intense sometimes she can't get out of bed. she doesn't eat, sleep, drink water, etc. alisa had to contact a therapist/psychiatrist to help avery get out of bed.
to end on a brighter note, here's a happy avery head canon:
she used to dance all the time when she was younger. she would pull out her mom's phone, start playing some music, and jump around waving her tiny little arms everywhere whilst singing along. she would pretend she was a popstar. her mom would film her and send the videos to libby. the brothers have seen all of them bc libby showed them.
not proof read so i apologize for any spelling mistakes<3. again, pls contact someone/helpline if you ever need help. speaking from experience, things tend to get better. sending everyone lots of love (and my girl avery).
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vashatxt · 10 months
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remember who owns you. (kafblade nsfw drabble, 18+)
prompt: next time we get into an argument, i'm reminding you that I took your virginity.
saw the above and don't mind if i do <3
read under cut. kafka x blade, smut, sub blade. edging. plays into sociopathic kafka.
things get heated sometimes.
like when that darkness inside blade needs to be tamed; the one thing that ties him to kafka, keeps her by his side. of course, kafka gets something in return. a partner in crime who is indestructible, who is the perfect bodyguard to accompany her most dangerous, ambitious missions. blade is so much of the reason she operates with cool, collected confidence.
there's more, too. the way she can turn him into putty in her hands. he's wrapped around her little finger, answers her beck and call. he relies on her for the most basic of needs - inner calm. and so, he's not just a blade, a weapon of destruction for her to use in battle. no, there's so much more he can do for her.
the tears in his eyes when she touches him, slowly milking his cock or playing with his balls while she looks him in the eye and deepthroats him, sometimes sliding her hands around the small of his back, digging her nails into his skin and giggling at his pathetic wince before she even slips a finger in his asshole. that turns the whine into a moan; and it never takes long for him to cum. he always cums too soon.
especially when things get heated.
tonight is like the first time she'd ever subdued him with sex. he's been getting aggressive, talking back rather than setting about his work in stoic silence. he's resigned to working to meet the stellaron hunter's goals so that elio can grant him his wish for a funeral of his own - so something is seriously amiss when he loses focus. kafka learned that her spirit whisper wasn't the only thing that could help him.
whatever blade had been through or done with people in his previous life didn't matter to her. he's an amnesiac, immortal being bound to her for the rest of his existence. and he's all hers.
"bladie," she whispers; a patronising, sickly sweet nickname that she knows gets his cock throbbing in his pants, because the first time she called him that was the first time they'd fucked. "if you want my cunt that bad, you can come and beg for it like the pathetic pup you are. don't waste your energy on fighting with me, it always ends the same way."
he scowls as if he wants to push her, but his red eyes meet hers, and his lips part; his knees suddenly feel like jelly, and his voice shakes - "sorry, s-sorry, mommy...,"
"there's a good boy."
kafka raises an eyebrow, before reaching out to place her hand on his chest. he sinks to his knees at the touch, and then down onto his back, caring not about the uncomfortable concrete floor. kafka nods her approval, looking him up and down before fixing her gaze on his crotch. his grey trousers, so useless, so unnecessary... she licks her lips, tutting at him. "bladie. come on now. show me what mommy does to you."
blade has been stunned to silence and into submission. kafka doesn't just enjoy seeing him like this because it turns her on - any being weak and pathetic and desperate for her will do when she feels the need, after all - but because she has a level of care for him, maybe those feelings are entirely superficial and born not from affection but from how their relationship is mutually beneficial, but regardless, they exist. and knowing that blade can submit to her and let go is the ultimate proof that he trusts her, relies on her, needs her. and thus, she can rely on him. to put himself in harms way, to spare her pain and death, because he cannot experience the latter.
"good boy," she repeats the words of praise as she watches him squirm out of his pants and underwear; his thick cock stiff and delectable, her most favorite toy of late. "isn't that sweet," kafka coos. "how do you get any work done when just hearing my voice turns you into such a pathetic little thing?"
she wonders what method of teasing him will bring her joy today. painstakingly edging him, warning him not to cum and punishing him (the kind that results in red hand marks and scratches on his ass, his thighs, his face) when he inevitably does?
that's usually a favorite.
but there's something in the sound of his tiny, hitched breaths when she licks her lips at him that puts her in an entirely different mood.
"bladie...," kafka puts her finger to her lips as if contemplating something, before shedding her coat; letting it fall to the ground as if it wasn't a priceless antique. "i was thinking to myself recently."
"mh - mhhm?"
a broken man with a broken mind. bandages and scars and dead eyes to prove it. kafka knows she has the power to add more where those came from - that ultimately, she could do more harm than good to his fragile psyche.
that's the fun of it.
"i was thinking, goodness, next time bladie gets a little ratty with mommy, she might have to remind him who's boss. just because i gave you a taste of me doesn't mean i don't have the power to take it away...,"
she lets a sly grin spread across her face, walks towards him and leans down, whispering the words so close to his face that he can feel her hot breath on his skin. it sends shivers down the back of his neck. "and believe me. you've only had a taste of what i can do to you."
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farfromstrange · 11 months
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Hellooo. it's been a while since you posted your stories but im willing to wait! just hope you're doing fine but here's my request, when the reader is Matt's sister and they have an argument one night and she suddenly leaves Matt's apartment, After that, she is taken by human traffickers and gets hurt or something like that (angst pls hehehehe) thank you so much love u. and I hope you're doing well!
Thank you for your request and your kind words, Lovely! This took a while for me to even get to and I am so incredibly sorry for that. This is my first time writing Matt with a Reader that he is not in a romantic relationship with, but I love a good challenge. I hope I got it right the way you imagined it and that I did your idea justice. I'm doing so much better, by the way. I hope you're doing okay and I love you too :)
Brother | Matt Murdock x Sister!Reader
Masterlist
Pairing: Matt Murdock x Sister!Reader
Summary: After a fight with your overprotective brother, you find yourself taken by human traffickers and it is on Matt to save you before something worse can happen to you.
Warnings: Angst, mentions of human trafficking, graphic descriptions of blood, canon typical violence, hurt/comfort
Word Count: 5.7k
A/n: I wasn't sure if this was supposed to be angst with hurt/comfort or without, so I just did it with comfort because I felt like it fit with the direction this story was taking. I hope you like it, nonnie, and I hope the rest of you enjoys it as well. I only have little sisters so I don't really know what it's like to have a brother, but this is fiction and I see Matt as a very protective person, so... enjoy!
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Having siblings isn’t easy.
Having an older brother who takes his overprotectiveness as seriously as having a full-time job even less so. It’s not because you had to compete for your parents’ attention as children - Your father passed and you never knew your mother. You grew up in a catholic orphanage and while for some siblings, that might have been the death sentence to their relationship, you and your brother never lost sight of each other. You two are the only family you have left and after suffering the loss of your father, you needed to catch each other. You both felt so alone, your brother more so than you; he’s always been different, which is something that he’s not at fault for, and you’ve been his rock, always being there for him because not many people were able to understand what he went through as a child. It’s a lack of understanding that’s dragged on into his adult years, and while he often told you before that he envies how perceptively “normal” you are, without you, he would have no one. It’s why he is so protective of you, and you get it, you do, but it’s hard and sometimes his behavior can get a bit too overbearing even for your liking - and you can take a lot.
Matt Murdock carries the burden of a dark past and a dark present, a constant reminder of his past that has changed his life forever. At eight years old, he got into an accident that took his eyesight and heightened his other senses to the point it became almost unbearable. And he had never told anyone but you when you were old enough to understand.
You’ve been carrying his secret for as long as you can remember, so when he came to your apartment one night, bloody and bruised and dressed in a black get-up that might as well have been pajamas at that point, you were pissed, of course, but you weren’t surprised. It’s just another secret you have been carrying for him. and perhaps it’s also been for your sake because having to explain to people why your blind brother does rooftop parkour in the middle of the night dressed in a clad black shirt and some jeans is not a discussion you want to have. 
That’s why you’ve never considered yourself anything but normal. You are the normal Matt needs, the normal he has needed especially as a young boy, and in return, he’s made sure to protect you from harm every day ever since you were born. It has nothing to do with heightened senses or disability; he loves unconditionally, and he’s so afraid of losing the last family he has left, he does everything in his power to make sure it doesn’t happen.
At first, you didn’t mind, and you guess you still don’t, but it’s only natural to feel like you’re being controlled at times with a brother who perceives everything, hears and smells everything, and senses danger in every corner of life, even if it’s not real. That’s what gets you, that’s what annoys you and that’s essentially what led you into his apartment that night, frustrated beyond compare. You know he’s your brother and you should be thankful for his support, but some lines should not be crossed, not even by family - and he has really knocked it out of the park this time. 
“I was trying to protect you,” Matt says and you’ve heard the same excuse so many times before, it makes your blood boil. 
“Protect me?” you snap. “By showing up to my date’s workplace in the middle of the night in your silly little Devil suit? Is that what you think protecting someone means? Stalking an innocent guy your sister has been on two dates with and hasn’t even said anything about taking things further than that and putting the fear of God in him?” Your voice is loud and echoes through the apartment. He flinches, the volume hurting his sensitive ears, but you couldn’t care less. 
It’s not the first time he has successfully scared a possible suitor away by being his intimidating himself, but he has never done it in his suit before, let alone threatened a man who has done nothing to you with violence. You were merely experimenting with him, going on a few dates after meeting him online, and he had been nothing but nice to you from the moment you first laid eyes on him in person. Last night though, you received a text from him, telling you that he can’t do this anymore and that you’re over, and it didn’t take you all too long to figure out why he doesn’t want to meet with you anymore. He’s scared, rightfully so, and he hasn’t even done anything to prompt any kind of punishment from the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen. But the vigilante is your brother and to him, anyone who even dares to touch you is the enemy in person. 
You accept his lifestyle, you care and you want him to be safe. You’ve never tried to change or stop him the way other people have, but he has also never done anything this extreme before. You know your anger is justified, but the look in his eyes, the stern expression, and the way he places his hands on his hips as if you’re a condescending child make you feel small for no reason; he is the one who should be ashamed, and you refuse to stay down this time. You’re a grown woman and you can take care of yourself. 
Matt raises his eyebrows slightly. “He sounded like bad news,” he says. To him, that is an explanation that suffices. To you, it’s the opposite. 
“And how would you know that?” 
“The way you talked about him… I did some research and I got a bad feeling, so I paid him a visit. I just wanted to make sure you were in the right hands, and it didn’t feel like you were.”
You let out a low groan, “Oh, Jesus fucking Christ!” 
“Language,” he retorts. 
“No, you listen to me, Matthew! I know you care about me, but that doesn’t mean you get to control every aspect of my life as you please,” you say, and your words hit hard. “I’m your sister, not your property, and I deserve privacy. I deserve to make my own mistakes and date people from the internet however the fuck I please, so no! I’m not caving. You were wrong with what you did and you ruined something that could have been possibly beautiful, and I hate you!” 
The last part of your speech is harsh and part of you wants to take it back as soon as you’ve said it, but your vision is blurry red with anger, and taking it back is not something you do, you never have. 
Matt swallows and he calls your name softly. 
“Dad would turn in his grave if he saw what you’ve become.” 
“Hey,” he calls your name again, but the steam coming out of your eyes turns you deaf to his pleas.
You shake your head and grab your back. The adult conversation you planned to have with him went straight out of the window the second you saw the determination in his unfocused eyes, and he’s taken one step too many. 
With a loud huff and a promise to kick his ass if he even thinks about contacting you anytime soon, you storm out of his apartment, the door falling shut behind you. 
Matt is left behind with an aching hole in his chest. He’s angry, he can’t deny that; your words have cut a little too close to him. You know what buttons to push to elicit a reaction, but this was new, even for you. 
You sounded so happy when you told him about this guy you had met online. You went on a few dates and the smile in your voice had been evident as you talked to him on the phone. He told himself he wouldn’t make any hasty decisions, but the more you talked, the more he wondered who this guy was, so he did his research and visited him. He was just trying to be the best brother he could be, and the guy you were talking to seemed a little too perfect. People aren’t perfect. But perhaps he misjudged him. 
Ever since he could remember, his sister’s safety has been Matt’s number one priority. Losing his father so soon and being left with his little sister at Saint Agnes, blind and overwhelmed, had been the worst part of his life, but he made it through. He pushed through the pain because of you. Without you, he wouldn’t have survived. He owed you so much and yet he has failed time and time again to properly show you how grateful he is. Instead, he makes the same mistake over and over again, and now it feels as if he has truly lost you. 
He wanted to keep you safe, but instead, he pushed you away. He hurt you. He broke your heart in a way not even a guy from the internet could break your heart, and it hurts him to even recall the sound of your voice or the words you threw at his face. You had every right to do it, but it still hurts him just the same because you were right - if Jack were here right now, he would be the last person on Matt’s side. 
Having siblings is hard, but being a big brother with trust issues who tends to go overboard to take care of his sister who is more than capable of doing it on her own is even harder. And there is no one to blame but himself. 
He calls out your name to his phone several times that night. He listens for you in the bustling core of the city. He searches Hell’s Kitchen from his apartment for your scent and anything familiar, but he receives no answer. You’re gone. You left him. The one thing he once asked you to never do, you’ve done and the realization becomes frighteningly clear; he has probably lost you over something as small as your dating life, and it’s the most stupid thing he has ever done. 
You leave his apartment with determined steps, deep down knowing you will come back as soon as you’ve both calmed down. You avoid the subway or calling an Uber, reveling in the feeling of the cool night air on your skin. When you cross a particularly dark corner into an alley to take a shortcut, you can hear Matt’s voice in your head telling you to turn around and take a familiar route, but you’re angry and you want to go home. You need to get out of your head, so you take the road less traveled - In hindsight, you should have listened to Matt’s voice in your head because even though he is infuriating, he is often right, even if he’s just taking the form of your common sense. 
The way out of the alley is suddenly blocked by two large men, their shoulders broader than two of your heads next to each other. You grab your bag, reaching for the maze Matt always insists you carry with you. You’re an idiot, you realize; you switched your bag that morning, forgetting to transfer the small bottle from your old to the new one, and your bag is empty when you reach into it. 
You try to remember the self-defense techniques from your training at Fogwell’s, but soon enough, there’s an entire crowd of men in that dark alley and you swallow. You should have listened to your brother. 
“Fuck,” you curse under your breath. 
There is no way you are going to make it out of this one. 
By lunch the next day, Matt still hasn’t heard from you. He’s pacing his office, he fans out his hearing, he tries to reach you through email, even, but there is no sign of life from your end. The number of times he has texted and demanded that you get back to him, and just let him know you’re okay, is probably in the hundreds. By the time the clock strikes twelve, he grabs his coat and storms out. 
Foggy shouts after him, but he doesn’t turn around. He takes the subway to your apartment and knocks. No answer. He climbs over the fire escape onto the roof and tries to get into your apartment that way. You lack security, he knows that. When he reaches your apartment, the place is silent. Except for the steady dripping of the broken faucet, there is nothing that would suggest someone is even living there. You didn’t pack any clothes, your suitcase is still in your closet and the fish you insist on keeping haven’t been fed in a whole day. Considering you came to him straight from work the other night, he makes the connection between you leaving his apartment and never even reaching yours in the first place, and that’s when the panic officially sets in. 
With one swift motion of his hand, he wipes your dining table clean. The mail you’ve kept on it falls to the floor and he lets out a frustrated shout. Everything smells like you, but your heartbeat is missing. You’re gone, but you didn’t leave - you’re gone and you haven’t come home, your friends don’t know where you are, and when he calls into your work, they say you haven’t come in all day; you’re gone and it’s then that he knows something is terribly wrong and you are very likely in danger. A danger he has put you in by being the oaf of a brother you often call him. You’re in danger because he chose to interfere with your life once again, acting as if you’re a teenager and not a grown woman, and that made you so angry, you felt the need to leave the safety of his home, and now you’re gone because of that, because of him. He tears at his hair. Damn it, he thinks, and he instantly starts to hate himself again. But is it really again if he’s never stopped hating himself?
He answers Foggy’s call with his chest still heaving and he tells him what happened in one short sentence, and except for your name and that you’ve possibly been kidnapped because of his enemies, there’s not much else he needs to give his friend the day off. He tells him to find you and call as soon as he’s found you and knows you’re okay. Because Foggy cares. Foggy is your friend, too. But Foggy isn’t Matt, and he isn’t made for the fight his friend is about to embark on as soon as the sun starts to set. 
Matt sees red. He’s not even sure where to start, he only knows he needs to find you. He needs to make up for what he did because he refuses to lose you. A fight can’t be the last conversation he has ever had with you, and he definitely couldn’t live with himself if the life he leads on the side somehow gets his sister hurt or worse, killed even. He loves you more than life itself and he owes it to you and his father to make sure you make it back safely to him. That’s what he promises all those years ago, and this is anything but your fault. 
Twenty-four hours have never felt longer. You wake up with the cold metal of a pair of handcuffs digging into the sensitive skin of your wrists. The pain that spreads through your skull is sharp and you can feel the heat of blood dripping down your scalp. 
“What the-” you groan when you lift your head. 
The room was dimly lit, the air thick with the stench of blood and sweat. When you open your eyes, your vision is blurry. For a second, you wonder where you are, then the realization sinks in; the men in the alley, their disgusting grins, and then the blow to the back of your head that has left you incapacitated for God knows how long. 
You struggle against the chains that keep you bound, but the metal is strong. Bruises adorn your body. Your clothes are torn in various places, but you’re still dressed and it seems like no one has touched you, which settles your nerves a bit, but the fear still bubbles up in you and fills the air with the scent of your sweat. 
As minutes turn into agonizing hours, your bones start to ache from the position, and you're tired, but sleep is the last thing on your dizzy mind. You have lost all track of space and time, no one has come to see you, you haven't received any water or food and all of your screams for help have met deaf ears or no ears at all. Your voice is sore at this point, and you give up on yelling because it is of no use, and Matt has taught you better. 
Your mind races with thoughts of finding an escape, but the truth is, you are not your brother and he once told you never to do anything stupid. You're not as trained as him, you're not a vigilante and you shouldn't even be in this position, but you are, and it sucks. You never thought it possible that you would truly end up in front of the gun at some point, even though Matt has warned you many times before and it's the part of his superhero life that has him worry even more than a normal brother. Perhaps that is why he overreacted, and perhaps you should have thought about it twice before shouting at him and being mean to him, knowing your words will stay with him for a long time; he likes to blame himself and you gave him material for days. Knowing you might die makes you regret your words and the tone of your voice because damn it, you love your brother and you can't bear to leave him alone, let alone leave him with the guilt of your possible death at the hands of people you don't even know or understand why they have taken you in the first place. 
The reality of the situation weighs heavily on you. Tears well up in your eyes, threatening to spill over. Though you bite your cheek, shake your head, and try once again to break free of your chains. If you want to get out alive, crying isn't getting you anywhere, and you wouldn't be a Murdock if you weren't ready to fight for your freedom. You are a tough son of a bitch, but a lot of people underestimate that. If you can be tough now, you're not sure, but you have to try. 
Just when you think you can't bear it any longer, the creaky door to your holding place creaks open, revealing the silhouette of a man. It's the same man from the shadow in the abandoned alley Fear clenches at your heart, fear you try your best to swallow as he approaches you with his steel black boots, his footsteps echoing ominously in the room. The man kneels to your height, meeting your sour gaze that you throw him, and his eyes bore into yours, both of them filled with pure malice and mocking curiosity.
“Such a pretty thing,” he coos. 
God, you want to bite him, but not in a friendly way. 
He smiles, his teeth yellow in the dim lighting of the room - you now suspect it’s an abandoned warehouse at the docks, hearing the soft waves of the Hudson outside through the door he just came in through. Men, a young woman, and a warehouse at the docks can only mean one thing, and it makes you shiver. 
“You know how much money I would get for a pretty face and body like yours?” he asks, and his laugh at your shocked expression sends even more shivers down your spine. He grabs your chin and you hiss like a snake, trying to bite his finger off, but he is strong and he’s more amused than scared. “Feisty, I like it. Tell me, has Daredevil taught you that?”
The name catches the breath in your throat. 
“You’re mixed up with him, aren’t you? That’s why he cares so much?”
How he knows, you’re not sure. Your smart remark gets lost in translation when he grips your face tighter and seethes, “Answer me!”
You hate this man with a passion. 
“Fuck you!” you spit back. 
His palm lands flat across your cheeks and you flinch. “Let’s try this again. I know you know Daredevil. Now, the how is not important here,” he says. “What's important is that you tell me the truth or this thing gets real ugly real fast and you're gonna be on a ship to Russia in the next thirty minutes. I suggest you don't waste my time. Tell me, sweetie, how well do you know him?"
You stay silent, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a response. You can't sell out your brother, even if it would save your life and a journey to Russia to be sold into sex slavery, most likely. Telling them about Matt would blow your cover, too, and that would cause even more problems. Besides, you hate this man and you are not going to play his games, no matter how scared you are. Still, his words hit a nerve. A big one. 
"I don't know him," you say. "And even if I did, I wouldn't tell you." You’re surprised your voice sounds as steady as it does, but you’re glad because it shows you’re not scared, making you a worthy opponent and stalling, which is exactly what you need. 
You have never been as religious as Matt, but this time, you pray to the God you were taught to believe in that he will let the devil out to find you, and that soon. 
The man’s breath reeks of cigarettes and whiskey when he leans down. "Oh, I think you will," he slaps you again, "You see, we have ways of making people talk. And trust me, sweetheart, you won't enjoy it."
The palm of his hand soon turns into his fist. You whimper but stay quiet. Your defiance earns you a kick with his steel boot right to your ribs, and you momentarily lose focus and ear, and you can feel consciousness slipping from you as something seems to burst inside of you. Blood trickles from your split lip as your vision turns into a stormy ocean and a dull throbbing echoes through your head. With each question that goes unanswered, another body part becomes the target of his torment. Your bones ache, your throat hurts and the blood covers half of your face now. He's broken your nose in several places, that much you know, and you're sure he's managed to break your little finger. Your ribs are bruised if not fractured, too, and something inside of you is screaming as it burns through your organs. You're sure there is blood in your stomach. Even through all of it though, you stay quiet. You don't answer, you simply endure. 
“Is that really how much you care about him?” the man pants, his fist raining down on you once more. “That you’d die for him?” 
Your eye is swollen and tears gather in both of them as you look up at him. You hold his gaze, the blood from your mouth landing in a pool of spit at his feet. 
“I’m far from dead,” you croak out.
His fist lands on your temple this time. The liquid multiplies. Hot blood trickles down your face and your neck, painting a gruesome picture on the floor below you. You can barely see with the broken flesh of your face, barely move with your broken bones, and your muscles ache from trying not to fall over. You can’t pass out. 
You remember the one time as a child when you accidentally knocked your head after falling off of your bike and Matt was there, telling you to focus on your surroundings so you won’t lose consciousness. You do so. You refuse to let the man win, you refuse to let them take you. You need to win. 
With each hit, it gets harder to stay awake. You force yourself to count the dirt on the walls, but as your eyes start swelling shut completely, the first tears start to fall. You are so tired, you can see the light behind your eyelids. You can see your dad and the faint silhouette of your grandma. You’ve missed them. They tell you to fight, but at the same time, their arms are wide open and telling you it’s okay, you won’t be alone. You can’t fight forever, and in some wars, you just can’t win. At least if you die before they can ship you off, you won’t end up in Russia and they will never find Matt. 
Just as despair is starting to consume you completely and you are more than ready to give up, there is a clanging sound at the other end of the room, metal on metal. Something hard hits the floor, followed by a series of grunts that travel from the docks into the warehouse. The man's grip on you vanishes, replaced by the sound of more bodies hitting the floor, hard. You blink through the haze, suddenly wide awake again, your eyes widening as you recognize the shadow in the distance. Your fear of death subsides, replaced by the dull feeling of relief as salvation stands before you. 
“Oh, thank God,” you say. 
He rushes to your side, calling your name in a hushed yet hurried tone. He's worried sick, you can tell. He can smell the blood and hear your erratic heartbeat. Your breathing is labored as the broken rib digs into your flesh, and you're sure your lung is about to collapse with all the fluid inside, but you don't care. He's here. He's found you. 
"Matt?" you ask as if you can't believe it when he touches you. The lower part of his face turns into a smile, but something wet trickles down the inside of his mask and onto his lip. A tear. His tongue darts out and he licks it away, trying to hide the fact that he is both dying inside and relieved to have found you. 
His touch is gentle as he carefully frees you from the handcuffs with a simple tug at the metal. He catches you when you lose balance, wrapping his arms around you. “I’ve got you,” he says, his voice almost as hoarse and broken as yours. 
He has found you, but the state you’re in breaks his heart. 
“You’re safe now. I’m here.”
Feeling his arms around you instead of the hands that were set out to hurt you before breaks the dam you've been holding up all this time. The tears start streaming down your battered face as you cling to him. Your strength descends into vulnerability. 
“I thought I’d never see you again,” you sob into his shoulder. “I was so scared. They wanted to get to you and I refused to tell them, but I was so close… Oh, God, I am so sorry. I’m so sorry.”
He holds you even tighter, feeling your skin for the injuries that lie beneath. “Shh, don’t apologize,” he says. “You didn’t do anything wrong. This is my fault, not yours.”
You shudder. 
Matt holds you tighter, his voice choked with his own tears. "I'm so sorry. I should have protected you better. I shouldn't have invaded your privacy and I shouldn't have let you leave. If I hadn't... You mean everything to me. I'm so sorry."
“No,” you whimper, “don’t say that. It’s okay.”
“It’s not. You’re hurt. Jesus-” He can feel your broken ribs, the shifting of your nose, and smell the copper of your blood. 
“Language.”
For a moment, he chokes on his tears and chuckles before holding you close again. “I’m so glad you’re alive.”
“Thank you for not giving up on me, Matty.”
“Never.” He moves so he can hold your face in his hands, pressing your forehead together. “You’re my sister,” he says, “and I’m always going to protect you with my life. I promise you, I won’t ever let this happen to you again.”
You nod weakly. 
“Over my dead body,” he says. 
“Please don’t say that,” another fresh wave of tears escaped your eyes. 
He wipes your bloody cheeks. “I’m sorry. For everything.” 
You shake your head as you respond, “It’s okay.”
“It’s only okay when you’re okay, and you’re not.”
You feel so fragile in his arms, he cradles you like broken glass to his chest. "We're getting you out of here," Matt says softly,  "I won't let them hurt you anymore. Just hold on a little longer. We'll get you out and then I'll get you to the hospital, I promise."
You nod weakly. He carefully lifts you into his arms, mindful of your injuries, and begins to navigate through the warehouse, relying on his instincts entirely.
A few hours later, you find yourself draped in an uncomfortable hospital gown and forced to stay the night. Matt is often reckless with his own injuries, but for you, he would even threaten the safety of his identity. He got Claire to catch you in front of Metro General, and she was more than nice to you. Now though, you're alone in the poorly decorated hospital room, and the loneliness creeps up your spine like a parasite. You curl into a ball and stare at the door, waiting until the clock strikes a full hour for the person you need the most to strut through the door. 
He is right on time. Matt made a promise and he's made sure to keep it. There he stands in clothes that nowhere near resemble the suit he left at home. It's just him in his red glasses, but the poor yellow lighting casts a sad glow onto his face. 
His steps are heavy, burdened by the weight of his perceived failures. As he enters the room, he removes his glasses, and the gates open wide. You extend a trembling hand toward him. "Matthew," you say softly, "Come here." His sobs are silent, but they shatter your already bruised heart. He takes your hand and you pull him close and to your side. "I know you think you're a bad person, but that's not true," you tell him, trying your best to keep your tears at bay, but seeing him so broken makes it an impossible task. "You're my brother, and I love you more than anything."
The pain in your voice stirs something within him.
"This is not your fault, okay? Listen to me! When I said Dad would turn in his grave," you continue, your voice barely above a whisper and it cracks straight through when he whimpers behind his closed lips, "I didn't mean it. He would be so proud of you," you say. "I get it now, why you did what you did. I'm so sorry... you're not a bad person, you're my hero."
Tears still streaming down his face, Matt climbs into the hospital bed beside you. Back at the orphanage, he would do it every time you were sick. He would find his way into your room and climb into your bed, holding you close, sometimes even receiving the same stories your father would tell; they weren't all that creative, but they were the memories of your childhood that have stuck with you. Matt cradles you gently, seeking comfort in the familiar embrace, and you do the same. Your tears mingle with his as you hold each other, crying silently in each other's arms, both because guilt is a treacherously heavy feeling and because you have never been more relieved to find yourself in a hospital bed than you are at that moment. It means you're safe, and safe is what you want to be. 
You sniffle eventually and squeeze his hand. "I love you," you say, and then add, a bit more sheepishly, "Bro." 
Matt finds a low laugh deep in his chest and lets it out. "I love you too, sis," he says, and he mimics the tone of your voice.
As your tears begin to subside, you find solace in the warmth of Matt's embrace. The hospital room, with its sterile walls and fluorescent lighting, fades into the background as you focus on your brother's heartbeat beneath your ear.
Time stands still, and the weight of the world seems to lift ever so slightly. Just for a moment, but a moment is enough for you to finally breathe. You take a second and just breathe, just for a moment. You need it. 
Eventually, you both find the strength to pull away slightly, though your hands remain intertwined. Matt makes sure you are comfortable, tucks you in, and kisses your forehead. It's your childhood all over again, but it's the kind of nostalgia you need to stay alive, stay sane, and push through the hell you've endured. Matt's red-rimmed eyes meet yours. "We're going to get through this," he says,  "Together." It's the same thing he has said many times before, and somehow he has always managed to be right, so you don't doubt for a second that you can believe him. 
You nod. "Together," you agree. 
The hospital room may be devoid of comfort and familiarity, but it's better than the warehouse Matt rescued you from. Lying side by side, you find solace in the presence of your brother, your hero. He has always been your hero, sometimes you simply forget. 
With a final squeeze of your hand, Matt whispers, "Rest now. You have a lot of healing to do."
But it's not just you, it is both of you. Together, as you said. The sounds of the hospital start fading into the background, replaced by the steady rhythm of your breathing and you slowly but finally find yourself drifting into the abyss of sleep.
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akria23 · 3 months
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Suspect / Character Chart Update:
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Nobody:
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So this week’s episode moved us off the path of Nuth as he claimed that Nant committed suicide - including some possible flashbacks of the body. This moves my Nobody theory - specifically Nobody: Theory A into sus rank 1.
Do I believe that Nant committed suicide tho? No I’m not convinced yet. I do think he’d have a lot of reasons for suicide - which I pointed out the first time I posted - but there’s so many questions left with that option. Where’s the body? Did nuth hide it? Why? What about a suicide note - not everyone leaves one but it seems strange of Nant in particular to not want to get out to his brother what he’d never been able to say while living.
I do think this does move up other aspects of the Nobody theory tho - they confirmed debt collectors so maybe Nant faked his death & went into hiding, or they harmed him. We still have the possibility of psychological break & Nont and Nant being the same person who just suffered a traumatic experience or drug usage that caused a break in his psyche - I still don’t want this the most but I can see it being this cause it is the safer route to end us off with.
Nuth:
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Nuth has moved down in the ranks to the number 2 spot. Hes not lower because while he claims that Nant ruined his life and committed suicide all of his flashbacks of Nant so far hasn’t shown Nant be violent or harmful towards him. He’s pictured supportive, sexualized, and a hurt Nant. That’s not to say Nant couldn’t have harmed him or even made his life worse - it’s just a possibility that Nuth isn’t a reliable source even his flashbacks. We’ve seen him have hallucinations so it’s difficult to say what he recalls or sees as 100 proof of things happening or have happened.
Also…did they ever tell us what the bloody hand print was from… If Nant was selling drugs to pay his debt is it the same ppl Nuth is selling for? Theres also these lines or cages placed over Nuth sometimes and I’m not sure if it’s metaphor for criminality or a metaphor for how trapped he feels. There’s still one of two threads they can pull and circle back around to it being Nuth so he stays on the list.
Prom:
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It’s still all vibes no evidence. He doesn’t slip, he doesn’t miss. He’s almost the perfect specimen partner wise in the sense that he has an ability to read Nont in a way no other does. He’s not overbearing, or controlling. He doesn’t try to change Nont’s mind after boundaries are set. Anything Nont says he needs or wants, Prom goes along with - an active supporter (plotting, research, giving him the weapon). But that’s the thing, Nont is more honest with him than he is with any other characters - and he has to see the frayed edges but he doesn’t pull Nont back at all. He enables…he’s supporting his descent.
The question I’m lost on is why. Maybe it’s empathy, relatability- I too am sadistic in my way, I too have rage, I wanna kill someone - and because he’s so good at repressing he admires & desires Nont who doesn’t repress who just acts and reacts. And this is what makes them revenge lovers.
But there’s still always that niggle at my brain that reminds me that Prom inserted himself and then had had influence over the case ever since. The show is always highlighting something off when Prom is in the mix - the music change, the aesthetic of the room, the way they position his def in scenes at the Playboyy with Aob & Puen (which I’m sure is to show us how he’s a source that benefits from the competing nature). He still feels like an invisible hand, still feels like he’s playing chess and seeing moves ahead of his lover. There’s so much mystery surrounding him still that’s it’s difficult to move him off the suspect board.
Porsche:
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I still can’t tie Porsche into his death so he stays at number 4 ranking but I still wonder if his sugar daddy had anything to do with Nant that would’ve set them into a competitive nature for his resources and therefore enemies…that’s my mind working theories from what the story has given us thus far tho.
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ouatsqincorrect · 7 months
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I can't remember if I already sent you the question or wanted to but forgot to do it. If I already send you this then I'm sorry but do you have any swanqueen headcanons for how Emma comforts Regina when she has bad days? Like when she is too deep ik her headspace and memories of Leopold or her mother?
you did! it’s been sitting in my drafts for awhile because i was having a difficult time articulating my thoughts lol but here you go—
first of all (i don’t know if i’ve already mentioned this but oh well) there are about five days out of the year (anniversary of her wedding night, daniel’s death, her father’s death, etc) that are truly difficult for regina
like on these days, she doesn’t want to get out of bed, but during the whole curse-neverland-camelot-underworld-evil half dibacle, she just tried her best to bury her feelings and forget
but once she starts getting help (and storybrooke is just a tad quieter) she learns that sweeping her past under the rug actually does her more harm than it does good
and when they are together at last, emma gets this more than anyone else ever has (she has bad days too)
these dates are on a calendar, and when they come up, both emma and regina take the day off work
emma will get up early and make regina breakfast in bed, then put in a movie that someone in their family brought over, and they’ll just sit in each other’s company
as they get closer and regina starts feeling more comfortable with opening up to people, she’ll talk to emma about what she’s feeling and emma will listen and hold her and tell her that she’s safe, loved, and okay
of course, there are bad days that happen randomly (someone mentions leopold or cora, regina has a nightmare, it’s just too hard to handle for no reason at all other than no one should be forced to through what regina went through)
and emma does whatever she can to be there for her—sometimes, she’ll take her lunch at the office or get dinner ready so regina doesn’t have to
(she also likes to send regina funny pictures and memes on these days because seeing regina smile is always the goal)
emma learns pretty quick that regina doesn’t need someone to fix her problems because there is no fixing them
she can’t go back in time and kill that son of a bitch leopold or tell cora off, no matter how much she wants to
but she can just be a presence in regina’s life that never falters, she can be someone who regina leans on when things get rough
and emma truly does make those hard days better for regina—she can’t take away the pain, but she can remind regina that even after years of everyone using her and abusing her, she now has someone (multiple people) who love her and care for her, and for regina, that is enough
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ensemblestarscafe · 2 years
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S. IBARA, T. HIYORI > Clingy sibling <
Gender neutral sibling A/N: take note that I do not actually have a sibling and the closest person to me as a sibling is my younger cousin. Order type: Mocha(Platonic)
Word count: 977 Written by:KAYU Proofread: n/a
ORDER: Hello! may i ask a headcanons mocha Ibara and Hiyori with a clingy sibling? tysm! - Anonymous, 220520
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SAEGUSA IBARA
You probably do not remember a childhood with your older brother… probably. Considering Ibara had went to a military when he was a child you have barely any thought that you had another sibling.
The past’s vague though – not much people know about it, and it’s only some that know the full story of you and your older brother.
It was around middle school and high school when the two of you started to act like… well, siblings, really. Oddly enough when you started to hang around him more he decided to let you be – no harm would be done, would it?
Ah… how wrong he was with his own statement… Ibara now has to take care of his younger sibling that’s potentially touch starved and needs emotional support – which he is not very good at.
Has definitely made you cry more than once because of his soldier like behaviour – and he himself thinks that he should change that way of demeanour because he does not want to be the root cause of your trauma and trust issues later on if he continues.
And he does not want to make you cry because calming you down is something very, very difficult to do and sometimes feels like a life or death mission at times.
He is a caring brother however; giving you help when you needed and listening to your thoughts and stories. Ibara doesn’t really mind you clinging onto him like there’s no chance of living tomorrow – he won’t admit that he feels proud that you see him reliable.
Everyone near the vicinity could hear you crying – and many started panicking as they knew that you would stop crying soon. Some had even seeked out for your older brother to help you, but once they did they were rather too intimidated to go up to Ibara and say that you were crying.
Your main reason of wailing? You had missed your older brother dearly as you were not able to see him for a good few days. And you felt abandoned. You were wandering around where you thought your brother should be in.
And now, you were lost. Very lost.
It had carried on for a good few hours until Ibara had managed to get out of the room and grumble at the familiar sound of his younger sibling’s crying.
Finding his way to you, you stop as you blink to see your older brother in front of you, arms crossed. You smile as you walk to him, arms outstretched as you hug him tight.
Ibara eventually breaks out to a – rare – small smile as he hugs you back. Even if you were clingy, it still felt nice to have a younger sibling that felt safe around him.
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TOMOE HIYORI
Your childhood with your family was quite memorable – your first meeting with Nagisa, the small play fights that had happened between you three, Hiyori’s mother hen like attitude when it came to your bedtime… and the list goes on.
Hiyori does not mind you being clingy to him – rather it makes him more happy that you give him your undivided attention to him. Though he does have to remind you that you should be toning your clinginess to him down.
Same as he did for Nagisa in childhood, he acts like the second parent, or the father that you never had, to you. Hiyori has taught you some of the most basic things to the much more difficult and intricate things – which you are grateful for. 
As an idol, he wants you to see the better things about him rather than the more ‘uglier’ points that he says himself. He knows that you wouldn’t really change your opinion on him, yet he’s still afraid that there would be a chance that you might, and that your attention would turn to both your eldest brother instead.
Many around you two have called the two of you ‘unseparable siblings’ which is partially true. You can be separated from your older brother – but it was just the anxiety that had came around when you did so.
Hiyori does help you with your separation anxiety from him – and he knows that it’s a difficult process, but he tries his best. Your whole family doesn’t know how you had gotten separation anxiety, but they do their best.
There have been some times where Hiyori and your eldest brother have had a small rivalry between ‘who gets to hang out with (y/n) first’, in childhood, and it was mostly Hiyori that won – much to your eldest brother’s dismay.
You follow your older brother’s footsteps as you both walk into a meeting room where the other three members of Eden had waited. Ibara looks at you with a quirked brow, Jun also watching you closely, while Nagisa payed no mind to your form hiding away from the three behind Hiyori’s back.
Your older brother laughs sheepishly as he sits down, you following along as you sit next to him. 
“They won’t do any harm, I swear! We were late because we kind of… got lost.”
Ibara sighs as he cuts out on his scolding, turning his attention back to whatever he was taking about. Jun, still feeling slightly skeptical, turns his head back to Ibara slowly, hesitation still in his mind.
The meeting continued, and you really didn’t do anything except for tug on your older brother’s sleeve or play with a pen on the desk. The meeting soon had ended and you were tired – and well, sleepy. Yawning, you stand up, wobbling slightly from the numbness in your legs from sitting too long.
Hiyori notices as he gestures to you to come over. You do as told, and eventually, you were being carried by piggyback, your head drooping down to his shoulder as Hiyori chuckles.
It was nice to have a younger sibling.
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m34gs · 11 months
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1 and 6 :)
Hey friend, thank you for the ask! (from this post) I had to think a bit on it, but I am excited to answer!
the character everyone gets wrong
Hmmm, I don't think I really have a character that comes to mind that I can confidently say "Yeah, everyone gets this one wrong". I think it's more that there are characters that fandom strips down to a singular trait and then a lot of iterations within fanworks then become an exaggeration of that one trait until the character is a hyperbole of themselves...which probably sounds like I am saying "yeah they all get this one wrong" but I'm really not. See, using that for comedic effect is great and all, and I sometimes really enjoy it, and a caricature is not necessarily wrong...it's just exaggerated. I tend to try to stay away from the word "wrong" when dealing with fandom interpretations because things are so subjective.
I do have a few characters that come to mind, though, for how often they are written as a caricature or one-dimensional or boiled down to one trait. This isn't accusatory or anything, just my observations: Deku (Izuku Midoriya) from BNHA - The amount of times I've seen him written as "uwu poor bean" or "innocent" or "too precious for this world".... like. Y'all. He canonically breaks his own bones to save other people again and again and again. But then it swings the other way with people writing him as a "badass who does no wrong". I promise you this boy messes up and when he does, he messes up Royally. Also, he is not suave At All in the source material, lol, he just has a few badass lines and faces danger even when he's terrified, but there are plenty of times he makes mistakes, can't talk to girls, embarrasses himself, and is even paralyzed with fear. Overall, he's a pretty well-rounded character. That being said, whatever you wanna write, go for it.
Grimmjow from Bleach: Yeah, I love the "Grimmjow is a Giant Cat" joke, and I've written it myself. But sometimes even for me it's too much. He's more than just 'a cat' (and really, all cats have a unique personality). He's an amalgamation of souls with murderous intent and a goal of being King. He wants to be the Strongest. He canonically tries to murder Rukia and Ichigo both. He gets loses an arm. He has this weird list of checks and balances where he doesn't harm Orihime because she restored his arm, even though harming Orihime would definitely get to Ichigo and draw him into a fight to the death. He does a 180 in TTYBW and is fighting on the same side as Ichigo, in a 'enemy of my enemy is my friend' sort of deal, because his home is threatened. He ATE his followers/friends to even become an arrancar in the first place. There is more to him than 'hehe, oversized cat', and I feel like sometimes even I need a reminder of that. (and I really love his character)
Endeavor from BNHA: Oh no, I get it. This man does horrible things. I just kinda get tired of fics where he's characterized as remorseless (he's not; that is shown very clearly, even if he still has a long way to go to even begin apologizing/making up for how he's been) or even considered Worse than All for One. You know, All for One, the Villain who is so terrifying even other villains are afraid of him. The dude who manipulated a child and raised him into someone who would attack other children, the dude who wants to squash the very symbol of hope for everyone. Endeavor is a shitty dad, and he does shitty things, but he is not so one-sided. Yeah, he's very self-centered and insecure, doesn't make him evil. He's aggressive and doesn't pay attention to collateral damage. Still doesn't make him evil. Dangerous? yes. Abusive? yup. I guess I just hate when people see him act one way and instantly decide there's no way to redeem him. He would have to do a lot of inner work, but he has the potential to, and I think a lot of fandom consistently strips him of that potential because they'd rather see in black and white and label people as 'good' or 'bad' with no going back or forth, than to think that maybe humans are more complex and so maybe the characters in the shows they love are more complex as well. Idk. I kind of rambled a bit on this one. If you want to see more of what I think could be done for Endeavor, you can look at the first work in my Adventure of the League of Dads series on AO3, I suppose. Or ask me about it. I don't mind talking about him. He's interesting to me, and I think he reflects some people I have known in my life, which is maybe why I have such an interest in him being able to change.
I have more, but I think I'm gonna leave this list here, or we could be here all night. Lol.
6. which ship fans are the most annoying?
So I don't actually think there's a particular ship out there with fans who are more annoying than other ships, but I think there is potential for fans of any ship to be annoying. Basically, the annoying stuff is not connected to the ship, but to fan behaviour. Really, I think the most annoying types of ship fans are the ones who will send death threats and anonymous hate to people who either dislike the ship they enjoy or who like a ship they don't enjoy. Imagine sending death threats and hate mail over people that don't even exist...Imagine sending hate mail or threats at all...like damn. Some people really need to grow up. But as I said, these fans can be (and are) present in any and all fandoms, for any and all ships. Maybe there's more for a lot of the mainstream stuff, but that's just because there's more people following that stuff in general.
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mabelpodcast · 10 months
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I’m dealing with the grief of my estranged fathers passing. At the time all I could do was play the “strong dutiful doting daughter”, because that’s what all my family and his friends needed. But now that a few months have passed and it’s almost hitting me, I find myself sobbing at night, asking why they couldn’t love me without hurting me. What should my next steps moving forward to healing be? (I hope you’re having a good day and taking care of yourself)
First of all, I’m sorry for your loss; not just your estranged father, but your own ability to grieve and be comforted in the way you need. Death and loss make everything much more complicated, sometimes, revealing truths that would otherwise have remained hidden. It can be deeply painful, but it’s always good, in the long term, to be able to see your situation and your relationships clearly.
You are going to be grieving for a long time. Grief takes many forms, and comes in response to many things, not only death. It may take a long time to reconcile yourself to the way things are. The first thing you can do is remind yourself, again and again, that the way people treat you says much more about themselves than it does about you. If your family couldn’t love you the way you deserve, it’s not because of anything you did, nor any inherent flaw in your character. The truth: telling yourself this will make almost no difference for a very long time. Family wounds run incredibly deep. I’m positive you know this, but there is no quick healing process.
Next: talk. To a good friend. A therapist. A journal. A ghost. Yourself in the mirror. Say the same things over and over. The goal is not to exorcise these feelings, but to prove to yourself that you are worthy of feeling them and being witnessed in telling the truth, even if it’s to and by yourself.
When you feel strong enough, look at the things that you’ve been refusing to look at. All the the worst and most terrible wounds. Exposing them to light reduces their power. The more you look at them, the more you’ll be able to see them clearly.
It takes a long time to come to terms with the harm a family can do. I empathise, truly. But you are on the right path by even discussing it, and the fact that you want to move towards healing is a big deal. Expect setbacks. Give yourself time. Listen to what your body tells you. Give it what it needs. Allow space for joy. Develop tools for bad moments (a stack of library books and a pile of art supplies can’t hurt). Explore who you are away from your family. Try new things. Be patient.
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kinnspocketporsche · 2 years
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Hello it's me with Thing Two again (there will probably be Thing Three later on, I'm still processing the finale, sorrrryyyyy).
Thing Two: do you think they will break up (like with the intention of it being permanent) at some point and what would happen if they did?
So with the question still being up in the air about them being codependent or not, how would this play out? Like I said in Thing One, I think Vegas' "I'll be alright with it if you leave" (or however he put it, I'm hungry and too lazy to look it up) had two meanings where the second was if you leave now I'll survive (but if you stay and leave later I won't). Vegas, the murderous man he is, has not had it easy (*slaps Vegas* this bad boy can fit so much trauma in it). He's finally found someone who can understand him and love him back and he's like 6-year-old me and extravagent polly pocket ball gowns: he wants it so so bad. But he's also so scared of being hurt because to love is to be hurt (at some point down the line, either by the ending of a relationship or separation [like by death]) and he can't take one more person or thing he loves leaving him (hedgehog flashback). He's basically giving himself and Pete an out: if Pete leaves, he will survive and (eventually) move forward, if Pete stays he will let himself love Pete and be loved by Pete so completely and he will be extremely vulnerable that if Pete does one day leave it might just end him. So... is this codependency or trauma or a bit of both?
For me, it comes across as codependency stemming from trauma because it reminds me a lot of codependent relationships I had (had? have? idk at this point, not romantic but still codependent). When you finally find someone to give your whole heart to, you are vulnerable, but when they don't hurt you, you experience the "good(?)" side of codependency (if there is one, I feel like the "good" side only makes the bad side much much worse). That other person (or people) makes you happy and sometimes you live only for them and if (apart from the codependency part) you have a good relationship, you only ever experience problems when you get to the "bad" side of codependency. Like separation, for example. Sometimes you can even feel like you don't know who you are when you are without the other person (or people) for longer than short periods of time. You don't just want them with you, you need them with you. The scene in ep 13 of VP reminded me of myself. In the bar, Pete is trying to act like he's all fine but he's an empty shell at this point and he only starts to feel some semblance of being a person when he sees Vegas.
Sorry for another essay 😬 but I'm curious to see what you agree with and don't agree with.
Also, I'm not a psych major at all so feel free to call bs at any time, this is all just based off of my personal experiences and conversations with others about similar experiences.
Sorry again for the long af ask!
~MA
Trigger warning for discussions of trauma, abuse, and self-harm.
Part 1
Alright this is a tough one. Pete at the bar was having a rough time - to me it could go either way. Was he devastatingly sad? Yes. Would he have gotten over Vegas with time? We'll never know.
Before I get into anything else - I just want to say that personal experiences are extremely valid and valuable when we enter these kinds of discussions. I put them on par with the so called, academically-informed "expert" opinions, especially considering how flawed modern science is when it comes to humans and mental health. In my practice the phrase "the client knows themself best" is one that I hold very dear, and that applies to this, too - although none of us are Vegas/Pete, the way we read these characters is personal and IMO there's no strict right or wrong.
I again want to look more at their issues as individuals than strictly through the lens of their relationship. Pete is a character I struggle to understand fully, but I could see his response being a typical breakup response. I just don't know. Time is a big indicator when it comes to mental health for this reason. And I don't have a baseline for him - I'm not convinced that he was okay before Vegas entered his life, and I doubt whatever struggles he was facing before have been magically resolved with a little bit of torture and love confessions.
As far as I can tell, Pete isn't going to Vegas because he feels like he needs him - but that's just my intuition, and maybe it's me being overly hopeful again. The fact that Pete doesn't seem to want Vegas to "need" him is reassuring to me to a degree - but again, Pete is just hard for me to read.
"he's also so scared of being hurt because to love is to be hurt... and he can't take one more person or thing he loves leaving him (hedgehog flashback)"
I love the way you worded this. It's so accurate. It also strikes me as a very valid and plausible fear for someone who grew up and lives among the mafia. What will differentiate things for them moving forward is how much Vegas imposes this fear on Pete. He could end up locking him up again to keep him safe, or he and Pete could find healthy ways to cope with their traumas and related triggers together - like talking things through - or he could land somewhere in the middle.
One of the things that I hope most for Vegas in season 2 (should we get one) is friendships. I want him to develop the friendship with Porsche and to talk with his cousins. I hope Pete maintains his friendships with his ex-coworkers, too. They need to have support systems outside of each other, that's going to be part of maintenance for them.
They've also both been shown to have self-destructive tendencies. This certainly has the potential to make the relationship unhealthy - but it depends very much on how it is managed. Please just let them both get some therapy 🙏
Do I think they'll break up? As a viewer, I hope not - breakups just aren't my cup of tea - but I could see it happening and I could see it being a good call for them and their development. Off the top of my head, what I'd love from them is a steady relationship with ups and downs. Like maybe when they have rough days they'll take some time away from each other, but they'll be comfortable knowing that they're still a family no matter what. I imagine it still being hard on both of them, but to me that would go a long way to demonstrate that they're still maintaining their individuality and prioritizing their own mental wellbeing.
It's a fine line. If someone asked me if I could live without my family, it would be a hard call, and I don't think that makes the relationship an unhealthy one. Humans need people. We need love, on a physical level. It's always a certain degree of balancing who we are with/for our loved ones and who we are as individuals. But that's why we need relationships of all kinds - friendships, families, significant others. Pete and Vegas are currently extremely isolated, and that's what I think I need to see change next for them. That's the current issue I think they're facing. I think - I hope - their past the manipulation, but until they're less alone they will need each other, and that's too heavy a burden to maintain. They cannot just have each other.
Again, hope this answers your questions! Do let me know if I missed anything because I am honestly still stunned from the last episode and feel a bit out of it. Thank you again for sending these asks, they are an absolute joy to answer and really got my brain going!
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dearestones · 1 year
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Death Note Matchup: Matsuda Touta #3
Warnings: Fluff. 
@best-cell Request: Can I have a matchup please?
My appearance; I have long dyed blonde hair, grey eyes, and I’m pretty short! 5 ft. My name is Rinu. My hobbies are volunteering at primary schools, animal shelters, and veteran homes, cooking, volleyball, and cosplaying sfw animes.
About the match can it be romantic? I’d prefer a death note matchup and being paired with a male character! I’m a non-binary femme who uses she/they pronouns and I’m 18. My favorite characters are Light and L! I find their dynamic stimulating to watch.
5 positive traits about me are (so I’ve been told) I’m very caring, introverted, balance both logic and emotions, I don’t accept anything lower than perfect (from myself), and I’m very generous.
5 negative traits about me are I can be overly sensitive and in return overthink, I hold myself to a high standards and beat myself up when I don’t meet them, I have some trauma so it impacts my mental health and makes me overly paranoid, sometimes I isolate myself on accident when getting carried away in doing things alone, and I have a hard time working with others, especially people I find boring.
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After going through the information given, I believe that you are best paired with Matsuda Touta!
Touta is absolutely floored by your kindness. As a person who has to work with putting criminals behind bars and sometimes consoling the victims and their families, he finds it refreshing that you’re giving back to society by setting an example that many should follow. If he ever has time off of work, he would like to accompany you on these excursions for volunteering. After the both of you have worked to better your community, Touta will take you out to have some fun. (The first time he does this, he automatically thinks it’s a date, but if you tell him it’s not, he’ll laugh but be a little crushed. That’s okay, when you do start dating, you can redo your unofficial first date!)
Please cook for Touta. He’s not a bad cook, but he’s not a master chef either. He’s spent the majority of his day drinking coffee and reading files, please, he needs some good food in his system or he will pretty much faint from starvation. It doesn’t matter if you’re not the most wonderful cook in the world, either, he just wants something that’s made with love.
You cosplay? That’s such a cool hobby! Touta isn’t one for cosplaying himself, but he’s attended a few conventions back in the day. Plus, he likes to keep up with popular anime whenever he has the time. He’ll help with pictures and poses, but he will more than likely decline doing couples cosplay unless you ask real nicely and even then, he’s a little bit shy.
Touta likes that your kind and caring nature is tempered by an introverted and logical personality. It’s a good balance that even he has trouble incorporating into his dangerous lifestyle as a detective. More often than not, he appears to be a bumbling fool when compared to his colleagues, but with you, he feels comfortable being himself. He knows that you won’t be as quick to judge him. 
However, just because he knows that you aren’t going to judge him, that doesn’t mean that you should be so hard on yourself! Whenever he sees you trying to attain perfection, he’ll take you aside and help you relax. Depending on your decisions, maybe the both of you could talk it out or maybe he’ll prepare some tea to calm your nerves. Know that you’re perfect as you are for Touta, so don’t push yourself too hard, okay?
When Matsuda catches you isolating yourself, he’ll always be at your side or at the very least, remind you that he’s there for you. He knows that trauma is a touchy subject for some people, so he won’t pry about your mental health until you’re ready to confide in him. 
Furthermore, if you show signs of paranoia, he’ll ground you to reality by reminding you that your thoughts can be intrusive and to think things through. Don’t overthink! Just breathe and think logically. What you think may be a cause of harm for you, may be benign in real life. Take your time, Touta does not mind being you with if you ever regress into an episode. 
It’s okay if you want to work by yourself. Touta has had a fair share of working under superiors who would rather be left alone. What he’ll do is give you space when you need it most, but when he suspects that you may be overworking or unwittingly isolating yourself, he will intervene. Disturbing you at your work isn’t what he wants to do, but know that his actions are rooted in good intentions. 
Touta will do his best to understand you, but please know that you should also make the effort in making him comfortable in the relationship that both of you are trying to cultivate. Communicate, talk to each other about problems, and be there for each other even when things are at their most unbearable. 
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If you want to donate a Ko-Fi, feel free https://ko-fi.com/devintrinidad.
DEATH NOTE MASTERLIST
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Chris/Melissa + “hey, it's ok... i've got you. ”
Something post-6B (I've decided we're ignoring the movie over here but that barely even matters for these babes), PG-ish, and also on ao3.
The nightmares are, at least, as efficient as any other part of his life.
The exact details fade as Chris regains consciousness – sometimes he thinks he has had too many Life Experiences, and that in turn means a thousand deaths he could’ve died, but the nightmares are so rarely about himself. Accept the possibility of a brutal ending as young as he did and thirty-odd years later there’s rarely any fear to the idea. But sometimes…
Consciousness comes back quickly enough, and he tries to tether himself to reality every way he can. It is just past sunrise, Saturday morning, and he is safely in bed with his partner, and he is-
He refuses to be a burden to anyone else – half a lifetime of programming cannot be undone by a handful of years outside of the subculture that created him – but he is sure enough in himself to admit that it will be a lot easier to shake the vague residual unpleasantness with a little help from his lover. This is what she is good at, he reminds himself, this is what brought them together, this is-
He is always so hesitant to touch her when she is not in control, even as innocent as light pressure on her shoulder, but it’s justifiable enough. Her eyes open slowly – how clearly she processes the lack of immediate danger, how soft she is in half-light – and she shifts her body closer as if she knows, oh she probably knows, she probably-
“Nightmare?”
“Yeah.”
“Who was it this time?”
“Me.”
Melissa maneuvers herself closer, and there’s such worry in her eyes, undeserved but present all the same. She sees right through him and he offers all that painful vulnerability with full awareness that she will keep it safe, that she is not capable of using what she knows for manipulation or other harm, and she-
“Hey,” she murmurs, soft as always, no judgement in the safety of their spaces. “It’s okay. I’ve got you.”
He believes her. That’s the most frightful part, as their bodies tangle, as he tries to steady his heartbeat to match hers. He completely believes, with everything he still is, that this delicate outsider woman can make things right.
No wonder she’s usually the tragedy in his dreams.
“You don’t have to-“
She sighs, and he can feel the weight of her patience, everything he suspects she internalizes to keep things peaceful between them. “I want to, okay? I choose you. Bad brain and all.”
They become one in the most innocent way, and he’s not sure where she ends and he begins like this, when she’s not sure what to say and he’s not sure words would even come out and entwining their bodies is the only thing that makes sense. There are a few haphazard attempts at kisses, and she accidentally nips his ear, but no escalation, no desire to make anything more than it needs to be. Not today, not like this, not-
“I want to,” she says again, and he knows she’d say it a hundred times over if he asked for it. “I want you.”
The instability, when it happens, is less and less frequent. There are no absolutes left for him, but perhaps there is at least some kind of healing. The way forward is through her, he knows that much, and-
“I’ll make it up to you,” he murmurs. “Somehow.”
“You don’t have to.”
“Want to.”
“I’m not awake enough for your guilt spirals.” She’s rested her head on his shoulder, made herself a nest out of his body as she only does in the morning. “Trauma, yes; masochism, no.”
He takes the hint and lets it go. The day is barely started, and he will not ruin it like this, like-
“You still deserve more. Even if-“
He feels her roll her eyes against his skin, and even that is precious. “I’m going back to sleep,” she murmurs. “If you’re able to redirect like this…”
“I’m alright. You can…”
Going back to sleep is a good idea, and it’s easier like this, with a good bit of her weight draped over his side. He knows how to set dozens of kinds of protective wards but none of them have anything on this, he thinks, on the way this woman loves and-
(He does, somehow, fall back asleep for a few hours. It is soft and dreamless, and when he wakes up again his partner does not have anything to worry about.)
(He gets her flowers a couple days later anyways, and drops them off at her work because a general perception he’s a good partner will lead to less questions next time he shows up looking like roadkill, and… some things never change.)
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spiritsoulandbody · 1 year
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#DailyDevotion We Need Not Fear Death Or Its Shadow Because Immanuel
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#DailyDevotion We Need Not Fear Death Or Its Shadow Because Immanuel Psalm 23 4Even though I walk in a very dark valley, I fear no harm because You are with me; Your rod and Your staff give me comfort. 5You set a table before me right in front of my enemies. You have anointed my head with oil; my cup is running over. 6Surely goodness and mercy will follow me all my life, and I will live in the LORD's house forever. Sometimes in translating we have to make choices. I don't think dark valley is the best choice here. It is often translated valley of the “shadow of death.” Literally it would be rendered |”valley of death shadow.” I kind of like the very literal translation. Such is this valley of tears we call “life.” Yet, because of our sin in the Garden, we brought death into this world. We live in this body of death.(Rom. 7:24) We are surrounded by death on every side. Yet because of Immanuel, God with us, we need not fear any harm. Yes it is God's and even more intimate, Jesus'` presence with us that takes away our fears of the shadows which are just that, shadows of death. We should, when alarmed remember Jesus' promise in Matthew 28, “remember, I am with you always until the end of the age." We need to remember Hebrews 13, “5“I will never leave you or desert you.” Jesus has made our hearts His home and throne. We are His temples. Why do we worry so much? Jesus reminds us in Matt. 6, “31Don't worry, then, and say, 'What are we going to eat?' or, 'What are we going to drink? or, 'What are we going to wear?' 32The people of the world run after all these things. Your Father in heaven knows you need them all. 33Seek first God's kingdom and righteousness, and all these things will be given to you, too.” No doubt the author of Hebrews has this in mind when he wrote down those words in chapter 13. Jesus' rod and staff comfort us. Jesus will protect us from all our foes that actually matter. Paul in Eph. 6:12 reminds us who they are, “against the rulers, authorities, and lords of this dark world, against the evil spirits that are above.” Jesus gives us His armor to battle with them but also reminds He fights for us, even as He did the ancient Israelites. We do not need to fear them because of Jesus' rod and staff. Jesus reminds us in John 10, “27My sheep listen to My voice, and I know them, and they follow Me, 28and I give them everlasting life. They will never be lost, and no one will tear them out of My hand. 29My Father, Who gave them to Me, is greater than all others, and no one can tear them out of My Father's hand. 30I and the Father are one.” Jesus sets a table before us, that is, His altar where upon He gives us His body and blood to eat and to drink. He does this right in the face of the enemies previously mentioned. It's a particularly nice smack in the face to them. For while they sinned against Him he did not redeem them. Yet we too have sinned and rebelled against Him yet out of His great love for us. Having made us in His image and likeness, He became man, suffered and died to redeem and ransom us. He gives us this meal of immortality joining His body and blood to our body and blood. In this eating and drinking by faith we are sealed with eternal life, His life. Death has no hold on us. He has baptized us with His Holy Spirit which is the anointing with oil. He has made all kings and priests with Him. As such good and mercy, steadfast love, kindness, agape love, chases after us into the New Heavens and New Earth, the Promised Land. There we will live in the LORD's house forever. For there we shall see the LORD God as He is and be like Him. There there is no more sin, hunger, thirst, darkness or want. He is with us and we are with Him. Heavenly Father, continually fulfill for us Jesus' promise of His presence through Word and Sacrament, that we may have the confidence of His presence and we need not fear anything but You, Father, Son and Holy Spirit now and into eternity. In Jesus' name we pray. Amen. Read the full article
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iovchlde · 3 years
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hi!! may i request some reverse comfort headcanons for diluc, kaeya, childe, and xiao? maybe about relationship insecurity or something of that sort??
relationship flaws and insecurities.
no one is perfect— so what exactly are their flaws in a relationship? and what do they feel most conscious of in a relationship?
featuring diluc, kaeya, childe, xiao
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diluc
he feels that he might scare you off with his overprotectiveness. he’s already lost someone before, and he doesn’t think he can handle losing you either.
it’s not that he wants to control your life— in fact, he wants you to live it to its full extent. but there’s always that small worry, an annoying voice, in the back of his head that reminds him that the wilderness of teyvat is dangerous.
subconsciously, he may find himself interrogating you if you plan on leaving the house early in the morning, or late at night. there’ll be times where small quarrels stem from this, and inevitably it can get heated sometimes.
if you walk out on him for more hours than what feels comfortable, to cool off, he might start to think if you’ve left him for good.
diluc’s sitting at the edge of the bed, and there’s a consistent tapping on the floor as he anxiously drums his foot against it. it’s way past his assigned time to sleep, knowing he has to be up early to run his business. he doesn’t have half the mind to check what time it is, at least, not right now. all he can think about is that you’ve been gone for way too long.
he expects this from the two of you, especially after a heated argument. you two take the time away from one another to cool off and collect your thoughts, but this? this is just outrageous. if he were to give an estimate for how long you’d been gone— it would be two hours longer than you’d typically be gone for. and this just feeds into his worries from earlier, about your well-being.
the whole fight was about you and your safety after all. you would tell him that you’re fully capable of looking out for yourself; he’d say that he has enemies who may come after you; it goes back-and-forth. sensing that the argument was getting nowhere, you took it upon yourself to see yourself out first. “let’s just,” you pinch the bridge of your nose. “let’s just take time to cool off for a bit, shall we?”
“it’s been longer than a bit,” he mutters to himself.
he’s snapped out his thoughts as he hears the bedroom doors open slowly. you peek your head in, just to make eye contact with diluc. you two freeze, simply caught off-guard in the moment. he notes how your hair is a mess— it sticks out in certain areas, and obviously has not been brushed down— and you look a bit rugged. “hey,” you mutter sheepishly.
he wonders if he should ask you where you’ve been, but he holds his tongue. “are you okay?” diluc asks instead, and there’s a certain tenderness in his voice as he addresses you. “you look a bit... rough.”
you snort, throwing a feign hand of offense over your chest, at his words. “gee, thanks. nice to know i’m looking very appealing right now.” you joke. he stares at you, but you can see the faint smile on his lips at the way you’re joking around already. it’s good to know that you two are still okay. “but to answer your question, yes. i simply tripped over a pebble— it was so dark out and my foot got caught. who would’ve known that a pebble would be the one to take me down.”
he laughs at this, and you feel the tension from the argument completely lift.
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kaeya
he’ll often wonder if you’re slowly becoming untrusting of him. he’s generally reserved, and quite mysterious— and it could easily be read in the wrong way.
kaeya knows that a relationship is all about communication and trust, well, for it to be healthy at least. and for the most part, he’s pretty open with you.
but there’s still certain aspects of his life that keeps in the dark from you. from his unknown past, to the business he does out of the knight of favonius— he likes that you look up to him as a respectable knight.
sometimes, you’ll ask him why he has duties to attend to at the dead of night, to which he reassuringly tells you that he’s simply off to bother diluc at the tavern. but he knows you’re catching on— diluc hasn’t seen him in the tavern for quite a bit.
“i know you haven’t been at the tavern.” you finally speak up, and you keep your eyes trained on the plate of food in front of you. you dig at the food, poking it around with your utensils— anything to keep your mind off of the fact that your heart is slightly racing right now. you don’t mean to be confrontational, but to be frank, you’re fed up that kaeya hasn’t been honest with you. “you can say that it came as a surprise to me when diluc said you hadn’t been there for a while now.”
“i guess it was only a matter of time before you’d ask diluc about me, and my whereabouts.” he sighs. he’s leaned into his chair by now, and he’s looking at you. your lips are locked into a tight line, a little peeved at the way he still talks so smoothly, and treats this so casually. as if he weren’t taking this seriously, and that this was just some other conversation to him. “i’m simply handling nightly duties.”
your grip becomes slightly tighter around your utensils, and he notices; your knuckles are turning slightly white, and your breathing is slightly out of pace. there’s a small change in his expression, and you can see the way his eyes narrow slightly.
“does it hurt to be honest to me about these things?” you ask him, genuinely hurt at the way it feels like he doesn’t trust you enough. “as your significant other, i guess i’d expected you to be more open to me. i’ve already told you countless times that no matter what, i’ll stick around— and even right now, i mean those words.”
once i tell, there’s no going back, is what he wishes to say. that it’ll be hard to look at someone the same way you’ve done before. “look,” he says as he sighs. kaeya wracks his mind for a way to respond— in a way where he wouldn’t be lying, but he wouldn’t subject you to danger either. “these matters, my nightly duties if you will, are matters between the abyss order and i. i’m afraid that if i tell you anything more about what goes on, you’ll become a target as well. too much knowledge can be harmful.”
“and you couldn’t just tell me that from the get-go?” it’s a fair point, and he throws you an apologetic look from across the table. “i understand, okay? just,” you swipe a hand through your hair. “no more secrets. i don’t think i’ll be as understanding if there’s a next time.”
“of course, my love.”
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childe
he fears that one day, he’ll come home and you won’t be there anymore; his involvement with the fatui doesn’t make it any better.
the fatui is known for... it’s notorious deeds, to put it lightly. he had warned you beforehand, that dating a fatui harbinger will be exhausting. mentally, that is.
he’s bloodthirsty and thrill-seeking— it’s his nature. but he knows you don’t agree with the brutal ways the fatui handles their business, and he tries his best to take your mind off of it.
but it’s hard to ignore the words that circulate around liyue about certain things that he’s been up to. childe wonders that if you’ll get fed up one day, and just leave him.
there’s always a small amount of anxiety that bubbles up within childe whenever he approaches the doors of your shared bedroom. there’s that slightly irrational fear that he’ll walk in, and the room will be empty; you won’t be beneath the sheets in deep sleep, and your small breaths wouldn’t fill the room. his hand is hovering over the doorknob, and he almost laughs. a man like him, who stares death in its eyes, too afraid to open the door in fear that he’ll see something he doesn’t like.
childe gathers the courage to twist the knob, and the door creaks softly as he pushes it open. he pauses halfway, the fear taking over him for a second, but pushes through. he lets out an audible breath of relief— seeing you alive and well in front of him, and the comforts of just seeing that. his shoulders slack visibly at the confirmation, and he allows himself to enter the room.
he strips himself of clothes that he’s worn outside, changing into ones more fitting for bed. he’d jump straight into your arms if he could— but he knows that even in a sleepy state, you would still scold him.
he stalks towards the bed after doing the necessities. you stir at the way the bed dips beside you, feeling a pair of strong arms wrap around you. “childe?” you mutter. your voice is laced with sleepiness having just awoken, and you’re rubbing at your eyes as you turn to face him. it takes a second for your brain to start functioning, and you blurt out the first word that comes to mind. “hi.”
“hi to you too,” he mirrors, a small smile gracing his lips. your eyes are barely open as you glance at him, and your words are slightly slurred— but despite that, he truly thinks he’s the luckiest man in the world that he has someone as good as you. someone who sticks around, despite his affiliation. “i’ve missed you a lot, y’know.” he says.
“i missed you more,” you challenge, even in your sleep driven state.
he chuckles at you, before pressing a small kiss to your nose. “sure, sure. let’s fight about who misses each other more in the morning, okay?”
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xiao
he’ll often doubt why you’re with him— and wonder if there’ll ever be a day where you run out of patience with him.
he’s getting better with affection, and he’s not finding it as weird as he had before. he doesn’t initiate things, still too embarrassed about the last time he failed to hug you. he wants things to be intimate, but there are still times where he flinches if you touch his hand or hug him, after forgetting to give him a heads up.
you always smile at him, and tell him that you care for his comfort the most. he can see the pain behind your smile though— almost a year of dating and he still hasn’t warmed up to you.
xiao still doesn’t fully understand the logic and need behind affection. but what he does know is that humans seek affection. they are social beings after all. knowing that, he worries that you’ll eventually want someone else who can give you the affection that you deserve.
“i’m sorry,” xiao apologizes in a panic. he was so thrown off-guard and so deep in his thought, that when you’d given him a back hug, he had reacted more violently than intended. thus, he had instinctively pushed you off his shoulder. it was hard to miss the flash of hurt in your eyes as you stumbled back, a little baffled, not expecting xiao to react in a such a way. “i... i apologize for that, y/n.”
it’s easy to notice the literal distance between you two and he reaches out for you, to which he stops himself midway. there’s just something that feels so wrong about touching you right now, especially after he’d just shoved you— it doesn’t feel right. even to now, he’s still scared of touching you. he finds himself getting frustrated at the way that he just can’t wrap his head around doing things in a romantic aspect. even he’s running out of patience with himself, so why do you still have so much?
you notice the way his hand stops, and you can see the countless of emotions within his eyes as he stares at his hands. there’s little glimpses of worry, of self-doubt, and you can tell right now that he’s being critical of himself. you don’t blame him for reacting that way, now that you look back on it in hindsight. anyone would’ve reacted like that as a form of self-defense.
“it’s alright, xiao, it really is.” you reassure him. “don’t be too harsh on yourself, okay? i said we’d take it as slow as we have to, and i plan on keeping my word for that. now... may i?” you gesture to his outstretched hand. he gives you a blank look at first, but nods slowly.
you take his hands in yours— you take your time to link your fingers, intertwining them and appreciating the way they mold together perfectly. you let him feel the way you draw soothing circles on the back of his hand. it’s such a simple action, but it flows with intimacy, and it has a weird feeling erupting in his stomach. (butterflies, he recalls you telling him.)
“see this?” you raise your linked hands. “if this is what you’re comfortable with at the moment, then i’m more than willing to hold hands for as long as you want.”
he wonders if you’ll grow impatient with him— but for now, he’s reassured you’ll stick around.
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author’s note.
i’ve put this off for so long, and i intended on keeping it short— but then i felt bad and so i decided to indulge just a little
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