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robynlilyblack · 1 year

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Take my hand and find out

Sirius Black x shy! fem! reader

Summary: Y/n's morning was going okay until new information causes her to have an attack in the middle of breakfast

Warnings: swearing, comfort, mentions of food, eating, not feeling hungry, feeling sick, shortness of breath and sex, detailed descriptions of a panic attack, gryffindor reader, reader has panic attacks, friends to lovers, mutual pining, first kiss, Sirius being a sweetheart, minor James and Lily and Marlene being a simp for her slytherin gal

A/n: 2k words, thank you for the request, I hope I captured it okay I used to do this went I panicked in large crowds to help calm down xx

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“Morning” Marlene's voice sings as she enters your dorm room “How are my two favourite girls?” she asks, walking towards you but pats Lily’s head on the way

“If I can get breakfast without being bothered by Potter I’ll be grand” Lily huffs, shaking her head as she finishes her hair

Marlene plops herself beside you on your bed with a snigger, turning to you with a sceptical look that elicits a giggle from you

“I mean it” Lily turns around, a frustrated look on her face

Marlene holds up her hands “Sure you do” she replies, voice dripping with sarcasm before she puts on her best impression “My wonderful, beautiful, sweet, sweet Lilypad!” she presses the back of her hand to forehead and falls back onto the bed

You giggle at her theatrics “Hey” your eyes go to LIly as she scolds you lighty, a smile cracking through her frustration “You’re supposed to be on my side…Marlene!” she pleads but giggles herself at the end, blushing lightly as the blonde starts to go on about her thighs and arse

“What?” she sits up and looks at you “She has a great arse, right?” she asks and you nod shyly, causing Lily’s blush to deepen “Lils why can’t you admit you like the specky weirdo already”

“I…”

“...don’t like him” you and Marlene say together, you a lot quieter but they hear it and despite it making fun of her Lily is just as proud as Marlene

“We should get to breakfast” Lily stands up the smile finally breaking through as she grabs her robes, avoiding the question as she always does “I need to get to those blueberry muffins before they’re all gone”

You and Marlene smile, gathering your own robes and bags. Marlene slips her robes over her satchel while you put them on, fixing the hood as you head out of the dorm and down the stairs

“Evans!”

Sniggers escape you as Marlene mutters “Think that’s a new record” under her breath while Lily eyes the boy jogging towards her

“What Potter?” she crosses her arms, pressing her lips together as she takes an annoyed breath

“We got a meeting with Minnie this morning, head boy and girl thing” he informs her with the biggest smile on his face “You look wonderful this morning, beautiful”

You had to give it to James, he never faltered in his affections, if anything over the years they grew more and more sweet, just like another boy you know…even if he was a little more of a natural flirt

“Hey pretty girl” Sirius greets as he and Remus come down the stairs behind you “Hey Marls”

“Hey Sirius, Remus” Marlene nods to them

You turn around to look as well, finding Remus wearing a kind smile while Sirius smirks and winks at you causing your cheeks to heat but a small smile plays on your lips as you look back towards Lily and James

“Oh” Lily pouts “I forgot about that, sorry…I haven’t had time to get break…” she starts but James gently cuts her off revealing two blueberry muffins

“I already ran down and grabbed you something” he offers them to a now wide-eyed Lily

She just stares at them for a moment before taking them “Thanks Po…James” she corrects making the boys soft smile grow significantly “Don’t get any ideas” she points at him before smiling at the muffins again “Let's go” she hithers saying her goodbyes to you, Marlene, Sirius and Remus before heading out

As she turns away you all chuckle at James, watching as he jumps and punches the air in a quiet victory before following along behind her

“So breakfast?” Marlene claps her hands together earning hums and nods from the three of you “Where’s Pete?” she asks as you all make your way down “Feel like I haven’t talked to you all in ages”

Sirius steps forward and beside her “He’s not feeling great unfortunately, stomach bug” he shrugs before falling into conversation with her while you and Remus walk along behind “I’ll tell him you’re asking for him”

“Hey love” he nudges you gently to say hello, looking down at you with a smile

You smile back, Remus and you got along well, both being the shy anxious hermits of each of your respective friend groups “Hey Rem” you greet him, tapping your head on his shoulder as you walk, missing the raven haired boy slight jealousy as he catches it when he looks back

“Are you ready for the presentations today?” he wonders and you look up at him confused “Binns moved the oral presentations to this morning, you didn’t know?” he informs and while you nod anymore conversation is cut off as you enter a loud and busy great hall, your friends ahead finding seats on the top end of the table

Remus seems to get the hint of what the two are doing before you do, in fact you’re too busy dealing with the forming lump in your throat and sickness in your stomach to realise until you sit down

“Hi” Sirius smiles at you while you turn to him shocked, you were expecting Marlene or Remus, not him

You give him a nervous, timid smile before you turn away and stare at your plate, hands shakily grabbing food you know you won’t be able to stomach nor eat before picking up your fork and beginning to play with it. Desperately you tried to calm yourself, trying all your usual tricks but the thought of talking in front of everyone in less than an hours time was terrifying

“Woah” your eyes flick up to Marlene, seeing her mouth ajar as her eyes are locked across the room “Just me or does she look extra good today?” she points at her girl

Sirius leans to the side, shoulder touching yours by accident as he looks between Remus and Marlene. You look as well, trying to focus on something else but you struggle, more so when Marlene stands, quickly grabbing some food and running after Dorcas as she heads out with an ‘I’ll see you and those two losers later honey’

“She’s a loser”

Sirius huffs but you barely hear it, only Marlene and Lily knew you had anxiety, you were sure Remus understood it to a degree but he’d never seen it at its worst, he couldn’t talk you through an attack and realising that caused your chest to tighten that little bit more

“Sorry insult Pads”

Your hands find each other under the table, nails digging in as nerves overcome you. Suddenly the room felt small, and you were aware of how many people were here, how loud it all was, how many people were walking behind and around the table, the clatter of cutlery, bangs on the table, laughter and shouting merging into the same scary hum

“So’s your mum”

Running away was the best option but you also couldn’t move, you were glued to the chair

“No I take that back your mums lovely moons…oh hey Prongs, Red and Minnie get tired of you already?”

It felt like the world was closing in, the weight of it all pressing on your chest…

“Hilarious Pads but no, in fact things were going well but we’ve ran into a hitch and I need Moony's help”

“Why his help?”

…squeezing…

“Because he’s tall like me”

“I’m tall!”

“No next to us you’re not”

…crushing…

“You two suck”

“And you blow…anyway moony you mind helping me and Lily with the banners? She’s just a little short, it’s adorable but impractical ya know?”

“Sure thing, I’ll see you two in class”

“See ya” Sirius waves them off before turning to you “So I was thinking…darling?” his eyes brows furrow, noticing how distressed you look “Y/n?” he tries again but don’t react, your eyes still tracing frantically around the room, breaths shallow

His hand finds yours, stopping you from hurting yourself with your nails, thumbs softly rubbing into the left over indentations “I can’t…I…” you breathing gets heavier, no longer panicking in silence as everything gets fuzzy, loud, it’s overwhelming

Sirius stays quiet for a moment bringing your hand to the centre of his chest and his to yours “In and out” he tries, and if you weren’t in your current state you would love him more for that “In” he over expands his chest “Out” he deflates, voice soft

You attempt to copy, it helps but it’s not enough, your chest still feels tight “I can’t” you shake your head, slipping back so he tries something else

“What can you see?” he asks, head dipping down to your eye line

“What?” you almost squeak

“Name all the things you can see around you” he expands and nods towards the great hall

You warily look, still struggling to breathe as you start “Umm…People…talking…laughing…eating…”

“What else darling?” His fingers run over your hairline, knuckles grazing your cheek

You continue looking around, your breathing getting easier “…tables…food…pancakes…newspapers…some boy picking his nose…” a giggle escapes both of you at the last one

“Feel better?” he asks, the sweetest smile on his face

You nod, breathing returning to normal and you lean into his hand as he cups your cheek “How did you know what was happening?” you wonder a little surprised

He looks down, face flashing with guilt “My little brother…he used to have them when we were young…maybe he still does I…I wouldn’t know” he confesses and your heart goes to him, you didn’t know much about what happened, but you knew enough to know how much he regretted it “”

“Thank you” you lean up and kiss his cheek, breaking him out of his own thinking

His fingers graze his cheek, and your eyes widen at the blush that grazes them “You’re welcome, but I’d do anything for you” the words roll off naturally “What happened? Is it too busy? We can take our food to the courtyard or something” he offers

“Not at first” you shake your head “Remus told me they changed our presentations to first period”

“Oh” he nods in understanding before kissing your forehead “Well I can fix that” he shrugs

“You can?” your head tilts, cheeks heating at the ease of the kiss and that his hand hasn’t stopping cupping your jaw line

“Yeah! What can I do for you? I can cause a distraction and you sneak out, or just get it plain cancelled or I could forge a note that excuses you…oh or I could sneak you to Hogsmeade and we can just skip it entirely” his eyes light up as he speaks, excitement evident that he can help in the most him like fashion

“How would you get us to hogsmeade?” you inquire, though you should have guessed he would have a way

“Take my hand and find out” his hand slips from you cheek as he stands up, extending his hand back towards you

You don’t even think about it, just grab your bag from under the table with one hand and accept his with the other, letting him pull you up

“You won’t regret this” he promises as he leads you out of the great hall and down the corridor but you stop him just at the end “What?” he pouts, he must think you’ve changed your mind

“Sirius…” you bite your lip, psyching yourself up “…is this a date?”

His mouth drops open in a happy shock, trying to contain it but fails in the best way “Do you want it to be?” he poses, hope evident in his eyes and tone

“Very much” you confirm smiling wide as lights up more than you’ve ever seen but you are sure you can beat that “Siri”

“Yeah?” he beams at the new name but you don’t say anything just lean up and gently peck his lips softly “Umm…well…ugh” he struggles and your heart bursts that you’ve rendered him speechless after all these years

You step backwards in the direction he was headed, gently pulling him with you “Come on” you encourage and he snaps out of it, grinning as he starts dragging you down the corridors for your first official date

Thank you for reading ♡

#sirius black and y/n #sirius black x reader #sirius black x you #sirius black #sirius black x y/n #sirius black and reader #sirius black and you #sirius black fluff #sirius and reader #sirius and you #sirius and y/n #sirius x reader #sirius x y/n #sirius x you #marauders era #sirius #sirius black fanfiction #sirius black fic #sirius black one shot

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thewhumpcaretaker · 7 days

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⚜ 𝓑𝓮𝔂𝓸𝓷𝓭 𝓙𝓾𝓭𝓰𝓮𝓶𝓮𝓷𝓽 - 𝒞𝒽𝒶𝓅𝓉𝑒𝓇 𝒱: 𝒫𝒶𝒾𝓃𝓀𝒾𝓁𝓁𝑒𝓇𝓈 ⚜

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ ✧.*★ Thank you again to @evren-sadwrn for the beta read!

TW: negative self-talk, panic attack, wound care, alcohol, extreme sexual tension, arguing

Summary: John Wick and The Marquis de Gramont both faked their deaths on that fateful day at the Basilica. But when Vincent seeks John's help, he isn't expecting genuine compassion.

John’s entire body was pounding with adrenaline.

The little sedan’s engine protested against the 90mph he was breaking on the back roads. He couldn’t stop picturing Vincent on the floor where he’d left him. He had been…well, not too harsh. In reality, he should have left Vincent behind for good, if not shot him. But that ship had sailed the moment he had his epiphany about this man. He wasn’t a monster, just a dangerous animal, and that was something John could manage. But striking a balance between managing the Marquis and making him feel unsafe or undermined…that was already proving to be a challenge.

It seemed he had struck the balance correctly this time, at least. Vincent was in good spirits when he walked through the door, and possibly happy to see him for the first time ever. He sat on the edge of the bed, smiling mischievously up at John. Dog ran to greet him – it seemed the two had become friends already. “What did it look like, when you ran them off the road?”

“…Fiery.”

“This is what happens when I am challenged. Those who recognize my eminence will come to my defense.”

“Right.” John sighed. Vincent’s highs were as bloodthirsty as his lows. But he couldn’t help a half smile back at him. “I will come to your defense. Are we good now?”

“We are, as you say, ‘good.’ What did you bring?” He gestured to the bags John had just piled around the armchair.

“Food. Should last a few days so we don’t have to go back out.” He started unloading it into the mini fridge. “Toiletries, bandages, and a change of clothes. Also, painkillers.”

The little exhale of relief that that last item elicited was enough to break John’s heart. Vincent must really be suffering. “Tu n'imagines pas à quel point tu m'as rendu heureux. Donnez-les-moi immédiatement. [You have no idea how happy you’ve made me. Give them to me, immediately.]”

Despite the twinge of guilt that he had inflicted some of that pain himself, John had to refuse him. “Not on an empty stomach. Let’s eat first.”

It was an awkward time for a meal, too late for lunch and too early for dinner, but time had no meaning in this liminal room anyway – except the inexorable progress towards the moment when someone would find them. There was no schedule, no to-do list, only survival. “It’s odd to be on the run again,” he commented as he pushed start on the microwave.

“Not on the run,” the Marquis corrected. “Sending those bastards running from us.”

John didn’t have the heart to answer. Vincent wasn’t quite facing the gravity of his own situation, much less what it meant to John. It felt just like his own days of being hunted. The paranoia. The sleeplessness, too. After watching over the Marquis all night, his hands tingled with low blood pressure and his vision tracked along with an odd lag. It meant little to him – he could go days longer before passing out. The physical effects of exhaustion were merely something to factor in when judging how fast his reflexes could respond in a fight. But his own discomfort didn’t matter. He didn’t matter.

Don’t think that. Helen wouldn’t want – He cut off his own thought with a deep breath. God, what would she think of the Marquis? Of John allowing someone to treat him this way?

But at the same time, wouldn’t she be proud to see him saving someone, caring for someone, offering forgiveness to a real scoundrel as she had once done for him? The fact that he couldn’t ask her twisted him, almost physically, somewhere in the belly.

It occurred to him that he would probably enjoy painkillers for his own headache, with dinner. By that, he meant whiskey. He’d bought that too, and poured it into one of the paper cups supplied by the motel. Upon seeing it, Vincent exclaimed, “C'est encore mieux! [This is even better!] A cup, please.” He hadn’t moved from the bed at all and seemed to thoroughly enjoy being served. Quite the change of tone from last night, when he’d threatened to stab John for getting him a glass of water.

“Choose one: meds or alcohol. You can’t mix them.” He handed Vincent the microwaved meal instead and took a seat at the nightstand, using it for a table.

“Tu ne m'as jamais laissé m'amuser. [You never let me have any fun.]” They were halfway through their meal before the dreaded question came up. “So what did Winston say?”

“What?”

“When you asked how I can survive. What did he say?”

John hesitated, but he wasn’t interested in testing the Marquis’ trust any more today. He had pushed him far enough already. He pulled up the message on his phone and showed Vincent the screen.

Winston: “No, it’s not possible. The entire Table wants him gone. He has made enemies at every turn. If this excuse hadn’t worked, they would have found another.”

John hadn’t replied.

“Bah. He has no idea what he’s talking about.” Vincent’s smile was suddenly made of teeth and extremely fake. He gave an unconvincing laugh. “Quelle absurdité. [What nonsense.]”

Cautiously, “…Did you have enemies? That you knew of?”

“Everyone is an enemy,” Vincent said impatiently. “That’s the nature of every court since the days of the Romans. One builds alliances, not friendships. Of course they want me gone, they want anyone gone who has enough ambition to rival their own. But I have leverage somewhere, I know it, I just have to play them against each other, I have to…” He cut off, shaking his head, once again caught up in wracking his brain to find a solution.

Even more cautiously, “…Are you thinking in terms of regaining your seat, or escaping the Table?”

“‘Escape’ from my life’s work, yes, very appealing. Why didn’t I think of that? I told you, Mr. Wick: your task is to restore my title. Not to shunt me off into mediocrity. I will not hear of this again.” He threw away what little remained on his plate and stormed away to the bathroom. John heard something thrown against the wall, then a long silence.

It seemed unwise to leave him alone in that state. Downing the last of the whiskey, he went to the door and knocked. “Marquis.”

No answer. He took a risk. “Vincent.”

“Laisse-moi. [Leave me alone.]” Even through the door, his voice sounded shaky and clouded over. By the angle it came from, John could tell he was sitting on the floor.

He sighed. There had to be an excuse for every act of kindness. Well, then, he would make one. He went to the shopping bags and fished out a bottle of pills. Returning to the door, he tried, “Tu ne veux pas les analgésiques maintenant? [Don’t you want painkillers now?]”

“Tu es vraiment un – [You’re such a – ]” There was a hint of desperation in Vincent’s voice. John realized that he must be unable to compose himself enough to be seen. All the progress of the morning had been undone in a few minutes. Vincent had been undone in a few minutes.

“Je ne te regarderai même pas. [I won’t even look at you.]”

Another moment of silence, and then the door opened enough for Vincent to put out a hand, expecting a pill bottle. Instead, John gave him individual pills, not trusting him with the whole thing. “Putain, c'est ça ? Donne-moi la bouteille. [The fuck is this? Give me the bottle],” he said. John kept his eyes averted as promised, but Vincent’s tone was hollow and resentful enough to convey the glare that was no doubt directed at his head just then.

“Deux pour l'instant. Ils ne disparaîtront pas si vous en avez besoin plus tard. [Two for now. They’re not going to disappear if you need more later.]”

The door slammed again. Running water, and then a small thump against the ground as Vincent sank back to the floor.

John sunk down on the other side, coming to his level.

Through the wood paneling, he could hear ragged breaths that each died out in an almost inaudible, high-pitched whine of terror. Another panic attack. Vincent was completely raw, agonizingly so. Even for a man with a temper and a bounty on his head, it struck John as odd. You didn’t get to the top if you had meltdowns like this in every stressful situation, and no way to manage them. There had to be something weighing on the Marquis that he wasn’t talking about…either that or he was far more unstable and vulnerable than John had even realized.

He seemed really desperate for the pain to stop. Had the stitches torn out earlier, when he pushed him to the ground? “Je vais attendre en silence, mais quand vous serez prêt, laissez-moi entrer. Je dois refaire vos bandages. [I'm going to wait silently, but when you're ready, please let me in. I need to redo your bandages.]” What a cold thing to say, given the circumstances…John’s protectiveness overcame him again, and he added, “Respirez lentement. Ça va aller bien. [Breathe slowly. It’s going to be okay.]”

Vincent was not in a position to respond, it seemed, so John fell silent as promised. With time, the sounds on the other side of the door slowed somewhat.

But no good deed could go unpunished with Vincent. After a long moment, “Vous aimez ça, n'est-ce pas. Penses-tu que tu es si important que je vais m'effondrer si tu me laisses tranquille pendant cinq minutes ? Tu es l'enfoiré le plus arrogant que j'ai jamais rencontré. [You love this, don't you. Do you think you're so important that I'll fall apart if you leave me be for five minutes? You are the most arrogant motherfucker I've ever met.]”

“Pensez de moi ce que vous voulez. Je suis là pour toi. [Think what you will of me. I am here for you.]”

The door opened, and Vincent leaned back against the wall, giving him room to step inside. “I don’t understand you, Wick. Why are you doing this?”

“You can call me John, you know. And your guess is as good as mine.” He closed the toilet lid. “Sit down.”

Now that he could look at Vincent, the sight made him reel with something devastatingly protective, on the borderline between vengefulness and cuteness aggression. Puffy, damp eyes, reddened around those icy irises, stared numbly up at him from a hunched frame, only inches from his waist in the confined space of the bathroom. Cold sweat plastered Vincent’s hair against his forehead and he still shook ever so slightly. John suppressed the urge to pull him into the tightest possible hug and instead went down on his knees to inspect the bandage, moving slowly to avoid giving pain.

Vincent didn’t fight him for once. His skin was cool to the touch but sweat drenched. Given his condition, John was expecting to see that the wound had become infected, but it was as clean as yesterday. He covered it with waterproof bandages. “You should take a shower. Something warm. I don’t know why you’re so cold…tell me next time, okay? I’ll get you a blanket or something. Don’t want you going into shock again.”

“D'accord. [Okay.]” Vincent swayed weakly for a moment. “I’m not in shock. I’m just…it’s been a hell of a day. I can handle myself.”

“…There’s something you’re not telling me.”

Too far. A glare. “You’re offensively bad at reading people, Wick.” Not John. “I am fine. Or is being shot in the chest not reason enough to have a bad day? I suppose you hardly notice it anymore – a properly conditioned punching bag, aren’t you? Get out before you embarrass yourself any further.”

John sighed. “I’ll leave your new clothes on the sink. Call me when you’re done and we’ll switch waterproof bandages for gauze.”

He sat down in the armchair, facing the door again while Vincent showered. The exhaustion was more bearable when he was up and doing things. Now, he was in danger of nodding off. He was in a sleepy haze when he came back to the bathroom to remove the waterproof bandage and apply gauze and medical tape while Vincent leaned back against the sink, hands braced against the countertop. The room was in a haze too, filled with clinging, misty warmth and the smell of Vincent. Free of the sweat and perfume, his scent was…surprisingly, even sweeter somehow, but in the manner of wild things. A baby animal, a rivulet of tree sap turning slowly to amber… John’s breath caught in his throat and stayed there until his hands were no longer making contact with Vincent’s now glowingly warm, kitten-soft skin. He turned away while Vincent pulled on the shirt.

“Clothes fit okay?”

He wrinkled his nose. “Obviously not, but one must make do. It doesn’t matter to me.” He cast a genuinely miserable glance at the mirror, giving himself away. John had tried to select something that at least wouldn’t disgust him – a grey turtleneck and dress pants, some fresh underwear and socks both in grey as well. But they were Walmart clothes, and that was comically far from being Vincent’s cup of tea.

John wondered if the blood would come out of that button down, and the vest…probably not.

They passed the next few hours slowly unwinding. Another drink, after that mess. John fought to pry Vincent’s freshly warmed chest out of his mind. Vincent, for his part, began to genuinely brood. He complained that the painkillers weren’t working, that he needed more. John gave him one more, and refused him alcohol a second time. But he remained restless, standing up occasionally to pace even though each step was clearly painful, and raiding the mini fridge for pudding.

Shortly after sunset, with a faint pink still penetrating the curtains at the edges, he looked over at John. “I’ve figured out why you’re doing this.”

“Why?”

“You’re attracted to me.”

John almost spit out his whiskey. “What?”

He was leaned back against the bed, grinning smugly, “I know when someone is flustered by my presence. That’s critical information in my line of work. I was just lashing out when I accused you last night, but I was right after all. You carried me out of the car just because you wanted to. You lingered every single time you touched me. You. Are. Attracted.” He pointed the spoon at John with each word. “And that’s why.”

John’s face was beet red. “I get a marker on you if you survive. It’s simple.”

“That’s not what you said in the bathroom.”

“Okay, it’s not about the marker. I don’t know why. But it’s not because I’m attracted to you.”

“Yet you are.”

“…Yeah. I – look, you know what you look like. You don’t need me to tell you you’re attractive. So what’s the point of this?”

He shrugged. “Maybe we could have a little fun. Stress relief.” He was licking the god damn spoon and John found it to be positively urgent that he look elsewhere.

“I don’t do ‘a little fun.’ Call me boring, it’s not for me. Where is this even coming from?”

Vincent’s smile was all teeth and concealment again, as if all his honesty went into his words and he had to compensate by at least hiding his emotions. “I just need something good to happen today. Your painkillers don’t do shit.”

John hesitated. The Marquis had no idea how he was tempting him right now. But he shouldn’t do this. He was buzzed. He was confused about his feelings. It was a bad idea. “I killed two people for you. You got away from the Tarasovs. That wasn’t good enough?”

“Good enough? You should know by now that I expect excellence.” He advanced towards John, managing to swagger even through the pain. John leaned away from him, completely tensed up.

“Back off.”

The Marquis stopped and his smiled faltered, replaced by a blush of his own at being so plainly rejected.

God it was painful to see him like that, knowing that he could just make that feeling go away by saying yes. But he’d regret it. He knew he’d regret it.

“I’m tired. I haven’t slept in a full day. Let’s just…let’s go to sleep.”

“Done watching over me then, as soon as I call you out?”

“It’s not a callout! I’m…not ashamed that I want to. Okay? It’s just not a good idea.” John stood up as if to walk somewhere, realized he had nowhere to walk to, and sat down again. “We have to take shifts. Hold onto a gun, and wake me up if anything happens, or if you get tired. I only need an hour or two.”

Vincent stared at him for a good ten seconds. Then he sunk back onto the bed. “You’re the most depressing person I’ve ever met, Wick. Can’t enjoy pleasure even when it falls in your lap. Would have felt like fucking a funeral urn anyway.”

“Mm-hmm.” John switched off the light.

But the silence was more tense than ever, and even though he’d felt ready to pass out a few minutes ago, it took John far too long to get to sleep.

#john wick #john x marquis de gramont #marquis de gramont #john wick fanfic #wickblr #marquis de gramont whumpee #gunshot #angst #emotional whump #hurt/comfort #whump fic #assassin whump #ao3 crosspost #enemies to lovers #// withdrawals #// alcohol

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joshualinergallery · 4 months

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Unraveling the Mystery of Trypophobia: When Fear Takes Root in Patterns

In a world inundated with images and visual stimuli, there exists a peculiar and largely misunderstood phenomenon that affects a significant portion of the population—trypophobia. Often dismissed as a mere aversion, trypophobia is more than just a discomfort with certain patterns; it's a visceral, emotional reaction that can send shivers down the spine of those afflicted.

Trypophobia, derived from the Greek words "trypo" (meaning holes) and "phobos" (meaning fear), is a psychological condition characterized by an intense fear or aversion to clustered patterns of irregular holes or bumps. These patterns can be found in everyday objects, such as sponges, honeycombs, or even the seeds of a lotus pod. While the fear may seem irrational to those who don't experience it, trypophobia can evoke strong emotional and physical responses, including nausea, anxiety, and panic attacks.

Despite being recognized anecdotally for years, trypophobia gained attention in the scientific community only recently. A 2013 study published in the journal "Psychological Science" sought to explore the phenomenon and found that trypophobic images elicited a strong emotional reaction, distinct from the reactions to images of dangerous animals or spoiled food.

The exact cause of trypophobia remains elusive, but researchers speculate that it may be linked to an evolutionary response. Some propose that the fear is rooted in an aversion to infectious diseases, as many objects that trigger trypophobia are associated with decay or contagion.

trypophobia trypophobia trypophobia trypophobia trypophobia trypophobia trypophobia trypophobia trypophobia trypophobia trypophobia trypophobia

The prevalence of trypophobia is challenging to quantify accurately, as many individuals may not even be aware they have it. Social media platforms have played a significant role in bringing trypophobia to public attention, with users sharing triggering images and discussing their reactions. The internet has become a double-edged sword, both raising awareness about trypophobia and contributing to its prevalence by exposing individuals to triggering content.

For those grappling with trypophobia, treatment options are limited. Cognitive-behavioral therapy, exposure therapy, and desensitization techniques have shown some promise, but the condition remains poorly understood. As our understanding of trypophobia deepens, the hope is that researchers will uncover more effective treatments, providing relief for those living with this enigmatic fear.

In a world where visual stimuli abound, trypophobia serves as a reminder that the human mind can be both fascinating and perplexing, offering a glimpse into the intricate ways in which our brains process and respond to the world around us.

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bl00dgutsgl0ry · 3 years

Note

ooh since requests are open can i request childe’s s/o being jealous of Lumine as they noticed childe has been spending more time with her?? lots of angst but good ending? (also i noticed you write a lot for childe and i hope you don’t mind another childe request asdfghjkll)

Pairing - Childe/Tartaglia/Ajax x Reader

Warnings - MILD substance abuse (alcohol), panic attacks, mentions of blood/injuries.

Other comments - YES YES YES I LOVE JEALOUSY FICS SO MUCH ahem. And I do not mind having to write for Childe one bit because that Horrid Psycho Man has his claws DEEP in my heart. I even recently got a new sticker for my car with him on it (´ ε ` )♡. You guys know I’m a sucker for angst with a sappy ending (//▽//). This also takes place where Childe and the reader often move between homes Childe has stationed around Teyvat from working with the Fatui and from being so damn loaded.

Childe’s job was certainly unconventional, but for the most part you didn’t really mind. You didn’t know everything about what the Fatui were up too but Childe told you bits and pieces from his missions. You were never one to be bothered by any of his missions, which he was extremely thankful of, until a certain mysterious traveler became Mondstadt’s savior and quickly got the Fatui’s attention.

Now at first you didn’t pay it any mind just like the rest of Childe’s missions, but issues soon started popping up when Childe was spending more and more time with this Teyvat famous traveler. It had gotten to the point where some nights Childe wouldn’t be home until around three or four o’clock in the morning. You had even caught him trying to sneak back into your shared apartment you had when residing in Liyue; quickly tiptoeing around the apartment trying desperately not to wake you up, unbeknownst to him that you had never really gone to sleep that night.

You had kept your suspicions to yourself, as you knew Childe couldn’t help the fact that he was conveniently in Liyue the same time as this traveler was, so it made sense for him to be ordered to keep an eye on this “potential threat” that Childe would reference other Harbingers to call her. Her. That’s all you could refer to her as. You didn’t even know her damned name.

That’s what got you the most, when you would lay awake at night thinking about what Childe and this stranger were doing with each other. Were you seriously losing your beloved to a mysterious stranger who hadn’t even been in Liyue for more than a couple weeks? You wanted to go out looking for them. For her. You wanted to know what she looked like, what she sounded like; you’re mind always talked you out of it though before you could even get out of bed; did you really want to know the answers to the questions? Or would that only lead to more pain?

One night though, you fell under the effects of a deadly concoction of wrath, impulse, and alcohol. You no longer tried to hold onto your voice of reason, letting the muffled voice drift away with every sip of the dandelion wine that you had brought over from Mondstadt a while ago. The smooth warm feeling as the sweet liquid ran down your throat comforting you in a way, egging the impulse to go out searching for your lover and his “mistress” as you’ve started calling her. You knew that if what you thought was happening, was going on, you shouldn’t blame the traveler; your anger should be pointed at the man who was actively betraying you, but something couldn’t let you move your hatred.

Before you even had realized it, you were outside your apartment determined to find your harbinger and this stranger. Liyue harbor was rather large, especially in comparison to the city of Mondstadt, so it was going to take you a while just to get through the main areas; not even trying to think about what you’d do if they had left the Harbor.

Ironically enough, fate had decided to be in your favor that night because only after about half an hour of searching you found a familiar tuft of orange hair sticking out fair above the crowd; and at this very moment you were grateful that Childe stuck out like a sore thumb here in Liyue. You wanted to barge over to them, shove yourself through the crowd to confront this girl; but you couldn’t risk it. Not when you still cared so deeply of what Childe thought of you; he loved you because you never stuck your nose where is wasn’t suppose to be, what if doing all of this was going to ruin that? You quickly started regretting coming out here in search for them, that was until the crowd began to lighten up and you could start to actually see the two together.

For one, the traveler was beautiful and she held this almost ethereal, graceful, air about her; her movements languid and smooth as she conversed with the person you held your heart. Your heart had sank when you finally saw her, stopping dead in your tracks to stare and her; and it seems that she could feel your stare as you noticed her head beginning to look in your direction.

You quickly ducked behind a stall selling food, heart racing hoping that she didn’t notice, or worse that Childe didn’t notice. The two stayed in their place, as you peeked around the corner of an ally way; moving away from the stall as to not make even more people suspicious of you. You had a pretty clear view of them, and managed to get right within earshot with a little straining.

“Childe do you ever just stop talking?” The girl’s voice was as beautiful as her looks, and you felt another twang in your heart as your gaze faltered to the ground for a moment. Then you heard Childe’s familiar chuckle, the same chuckle that used to make your heart flutter, the same voice that was now making your heart as heavy as lead.

“Well then Lumine, maybe you should shut me up hm?” You had to restrain yourself from gasping when those words had left your “lovers” mouth. There was no way you could have heard that right? Did Childe just flirt with this stranger? Lumine looked at Childe with a playful grin, before giving a sharp nod.

Before you could watch the rest of the scene play out, you were running for your apartment; tears welling up in your eyes threatening to spill over which would only embarrass you more. When you finally were able to get into your apartment you started to frantically pack your things. You emotions were slowing down your movements though, as every couple of seconds you would have to wipe or blink the tears out of your eyes; your eyesight continuing to get blurry.

You hadn’t noticed but at some point you had just stopped packing completely and sat in the middle of your bedroom crying at the foot of your bed, clothes and other belongings of yours strewn across the room. Your body was shaking and you just couldn’t seem to catch your breath, it felt as though you were vibrating whilst also being lit on fire. Everything was just so overwhelming. You hadn’t heard the heavy footsteps of Childe’s boot on the hard floors. You also hadn’t notice his strong hands setting themselves on top of your shoulders, as he tried to figure out what was going on. And then suddenly you felt and heard everything all at once, your eyes met the blue one’s you once could never look away from; now they made you want to vomit.

You quickly shoved Childe off of you, and you scrambled to stand again; eyes flicking around his body like a wild animal being approached by a stranger. Childe stood up quickly as well, eyes just as wide as your his voice loud in your ears. You didn’t want to hear him, it hurt too much.

“SHUT UP AJAX!!” All at once everything was completely silent, except for your shaky breathing. Childe’s eyes had never been wider, as he looked at you like a deer in headlights. You’ve never yelled like this, and you never use his birthname. He didn’t dare to breath not wanting to elicit another demonstration of your unexpected wrath. He had no idea where any of this was coming from.

“You think I don’t know about your little flirts with Lumine?” Your voice was shaky and hoarse from the crying you had already done, but even then it never lost any of its vindication or venom. Childe’s blood was icy cold. What were you talking about? Flirting? Who had told you he was flirting? Did Lumine think he was flirting and then come tell you? Then why would Lumine always seem so comfortable with everything he would say to her?

“Wha- Flirting? What are you talking about (y/n)?! I never was flirting with Lumine!” Childe was silently begging you to believe him. Was he going to lose you to an issue he didn’t even cause?

“Oh why don’t you shut me up Lumine~~” Your voice was harsh and mocking, and you watched as Childe flinched at your tone. You never got this angry with him.

“Where did you hear that-? Whatever never the less, beloved please understand that was a misunderstanding. When I said that I meant in a spar! Lumine and I often dual, practicing with each other. That’s why I’ve been coming home late. Look I even have cuts and bruises to prove it!” Childe has never ripped his shirt off faster, not even when he was in the mood, he just wanted you to desperately believe him. He refused to lose you over such a simple misunderstanding.

You stood in your place dumbfounded. He really did have wounds, fresh and bloody. He was just... sparing? How could you have been so dumb? Why would you have even thought Childe would’ve done something like that.

“I don’t... You were just- Childe I’m sorry I shouldn’t have thought...” Tears began to well up in your eyes again, but this time when he made a movement towards you and brought you to his strong chest you didn’t push him away.

“I get it, I just wish you would have brought up your issue a little earlier before it boiled over like this. Were you really going to just up and leave?” There was something in Childe’s voice that you had never heard before. It sounded almost desperate for an answer. You didn’t say anything in response, you just couldn’t bring yourself to. It was silent, which let you hear the shaky breath Childe let out.

“Please don’t leave me.” Childe voice was so small, it almost sounded insecure; and it broke your heart. You arms tightened around Childe’s waist, while still trying to avoid his wounds.

“I’m sorry. I won’t I promise, if I ever have any thoughts like this I’ll bring them up with you. I won’t leave.” Childe kissed the top of your head and you nuzzled his neck.

“Thank you. Now maybe we should clean this back up?” Childe let out a small chuckle as he slowly let go of your form. You smiled at your beloveds attempt to lighten to air.

“I think that can wait until you’re not dripping blood onto the floor.” Childe let out a chuckle before nodding and mumbling out a quick, ‘ah yeah..’ and heading for the bathroom.

#Childe #Tartaglia #genshin impact childe #genshin childe #genshin impact tartaglia #genshin tartaglia #childe imagines #childe x reader #tartaglia imagines #tartaglia x reader #genshin ajax #genshin impact ajax #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin imagine #genshin imagines #genshin impact imagine #genshin impact imagines

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heademptynothoughts · 3 years

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Gosh, I would love another nillhall story, but I don't have any good ideas. Maybe a story about Ray's necklace? Or a story about Ray/Heather interactions pre-panic? I know there's already a story about one of Ray's tattoos, but it'd be neat to have a story about his other tattoos. IDK. I just want more nillhall.

thank you so much! this is a little pre-panic nillhall plus the story of ray’s necklace

read below or on ao3

keep my past so close that i forgot it’s gone

In a small town like Carp, everyone knew everyone. Ray had always been a part of Heather’s life, just as she had always been a part of his. And while they had always orbited each other, they had never collided, not really, and they’d certainly never been friends. Both may have had similar upbringings, but Ray had known since they were kids that Heather Nill was destined for more. Whereas Ray was a Hall, deadweight, and he would never be anything else.

From a young age, Ray was aware of the way people saw him, that they’d already decided he was trouble just like his brother and would end up in jail just like his father. When he missed days of school and came back bruised and battered, everyone assumed he was a delinquent, a criminal. No one considered the truth of the matter, that it was his grandpa who left those bruises.

No one except Heather.

———

Heather couldn’t help how her eyes strayed to Ray whenever he was near. There was something about him, a spark, a light in his eyes that drew people to him like moths to a flame. On the days that he came to school all bruises and darkness, Heather knew why. Even as everyone else whispered to themselves, making up rumours and never daring to ask what really happened, she saw the truth. She would’ve been blind not to.

So on those days when his light was extinguished and he flinched at the slightest touch, she did what she could to help him. Nothing big, nothing he noticed, but enough to make his time at school easier.

When anyone who wasn’t one of his friends tried to approach him, she found a way to divert their attention. Sometimes it was as easy as calling out a name and saying hi. Sometimes it would take questions about homework or any other conversation starter. There were a few times where she had to physically drag someone away, but under the guise of friendship and a bright smile, no one thought anything of it.

That all changed the day Ray came to school bruised but beaming, wearing a can tab necklace she’d never seen before.

———

Ray made the necklace as a reminder. A reminder that he was strong, that he had fought back and won, that he wasn’t going to be afraid anymore.

He didn’t know what he had done to set his grandpa off. Not that it mattered anyways. There was never any rhyme or reason to his attacks, none besides the fact that he was drunk off his ass and quick to anger as a result.

A beer can flew at Ray’s head and he moved out of the way just in time, only to get a swift punch in the gut as his grandpa rounded on him. Doubled over, Ray didn’t pay attention to any of the obscenities being hurled at him. He had had enough.

He grit his teeth and unfolded his body, standing up straight, shoulders back, hands curled into fists. He was taller than the old man now, stronger, and he was done being a punching bag.

His grandpa clocked him in the jaw, but it made no difference. Ray’s fists started flying and soon enough he had pushed him down, making it clear that today had been the last time he would ever lay a finger on him.

Afterwards Ray took the can of beer that’d been thrown at him and stalked out the door. Legs shaking, he sat on the porch and fiddled with the tab on the can until it broke off. He stared at it for a moment before placing it in his pocket. Later on, he found a necklace chain and put the can tab on it, turning it into a talisman of sorts.

When he went back to school the next day, he leaned into people’s perception of him. He laughed at the rumours flying around and started acting exactly how he was expected to. He was loud and brash and turned everything into a joke, pretending he had no cares in the world. He was a Hall after all.

———

Heather was still drawn to Ray. Except now it annoyed her to no end. Now he annoyed her to no end.

She hated how her eyes still strayed his way whenever he was around, hated how she sometimes got so distracted by him the rest of the world faded away. Most of all she hated how, try as she might, she really wasn’t any different than all the girls who flocked to him.

She was determined to keep up the pretence of hating him for as long as possible though. And sometimes she forgot her hatred of him was a pretence at all.

———

The first time Ray noticed Heather, actually noticed her as more than just a classmate, she was laughing at something Bishop had said. Aglow with happiness, she became the most beautiful girl Ray had ever seen and in that moment, he wanted nothing more than to be the one making her laugh.

Jealousy zinged through him. It was an emotion he often felt when it came to Bishop, but this time it was different. Because this time he wasn’t jealous about his clothes or car or phone or even the food he brought for lunch, this time he was jealous about the fact that Bishop could elicit such a positive reaction from Heather.

From then on he tried different ways to get Heather’s attention, but she didn’t fawn over him like other girls had started to. Instead she was combative, always ready with a quip that quickly put him in his place. He liked that about her, that she didn’t fall for his bullshit and actually called him out on it. He liked that she aspired to be more, that she had dreams which far exceeded Carp. He liked how loyal she was to her friends even if he thought they didn’t deserve it.

He wondered what it was like to be loved by her. He hoped to find out.

#hope you like this!#ask #anon #panic amazon #ray hall #heather nill #nillhall #fanfic #oneshot #my fic

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thecheesiestcheese23 · 3 years

Text

a place that feels like home.

Trust was not so easily given, and Philza Minceraft knew this.

Hell, he raised four children that held their own trust issues. He spent years cracking away at them for them to finally feel safe enough to sleep in the same room with him and to turn their backs to him.

So why did he throw away the bond with two, kill the other, but live with the fourth? He knew very well why he did, he played favorites. He didn’t try to of course, but there was just something about Techno that drew Phil to be with him more than the others. Maybe it was the saying that 'Technoblade Never Dies' that he could relate to as ‘The Angel of Death’. Perhaps it was how their childhoods were so similar, where they were taken away from their families and thrown into The Pit, an illegal fight club that wanted to watch blood spill. The most likely thing though, was that they were both fighters.

Wilbur was never a fighter while he lived under Phil's roof, always wanting to hold a pen to write stories than to pick up a sword to spill blood. He was a lovely singer too and could spin melodies from simply plucking the strings of a guitar. Even when he left to make a country and was thrust into an unjust war, he refused to raise his bow unless it was dire.

It was only when his sanity started to deteriorate did he start to raise his sword instead of his guitar. And when Phil heard the words of "Kill me Phil -" after he blew up his own country that he shredded blood, sweat, and tears for, did he know his son was truly gone, replaced with this shell of a human.

Tubbo was like a bluebird; innocent and a hard-worker.

Like Wilbur, he never wanted to harm anyone, which was different from his birth father, Schlatt. He would rather spend his time with the bees in the backyard and play with his bee plushie that he was left with in the box. He loved to spend time in the garden and nurture the flowers that grew alongside the food.

Tommy was a different case from the other two. While yes, he was a fighter, and a feisty one, he wasn’t the best. He was always so brash and loud, letting the enemy know he was coming from miles away. Techno was much more reserved and quiet and was deadly and to the point in his attacks. Phil saw him at the wars though, and he saw how much his youngest grew in his fighting.

Phil knew that he was too young to be thrust into these wars, too young to have met the face of Death multiple times by now, and too young to have been betrayed by nearly everyone he knew.

But, Phil sighed, there was nothing he could do about it now. The bonds he once had were shattered beyond repair and the three probably hated him by now. The only thing he could do now was to ask Ranboo if he needed a place to stay.

He had given Ranboo one of his feathers days after Techno’s execution, a way of communication that wasn’t able to be tracked by Dream. Phil had seen how the boy had been unwilling to pull the lever and was even hesitant to place Phil under house arrest.

He quickly searched through his satchel looking for the feather that was the main cell. Once he did, he quickly double-tapped the circle that rested at the top and scrolled through the contacts list. There were people from the Antarctic Empire, Ranboo, and then there was his family, Tubbo, Tommy, Fundy, Wilbur, and Techno.

Phil could only hope that Ranboo hadn’t left the feather in his house as the explosions fell down into what once was L’manburg.

With tense shoulders, he pressed the call button.

---

The dripping of water was the only thing that could be heard within the obsidian room beside the shaky breaths of a curled figure who was in one of the back corners.

A cat, Enderchest, meowed, disrupting the silence and rubbing against the leg of their owner in an attempt of comfort. Ranboo could only stare at his memory book as the feather in his hand hovered over the names of the people who were once his friends.

“I . . . I don’t have anyone left . . .” The book was shut with a slam, the title shinning against the lighting that the crying obsidian gave off.

“But,” a shaky sigh escaped through his lips. “I can’t forget them, otherwise I’m just giving up, and if I give up. . .” He stood abruptly which only succeeded in him collapsing down once more due to his unsteady legs.

“Then I’m just weak.”

The feather in his hand crackled to life, startling him before a familiar voice could be heard echoing around the small room. “Hey, Ranboo!”

“Hi, Phil.” The unshed tears in his eyes shone brighter as his voice wavered.

“Did you make it out okay?” Phil sounded concerned for him, for some reason that Ranboo could not fathom.

“Yeah, I’m still alive.” The smell of smoke was strong, even when he was far away from L’manburg. Some part of Ranboo’s mind wondered how long it would last.

“Good, good, where are you right now?”

“Uhm, I’m gonna be in L’manburg soon.” All Ranboo needed to do now was to pull himself out of this funk.

“Okay, good.” The rustling of a wing could be heard. “Do you need a place to stay or are you good?” Ranboo was caught off-guard by this question as images of his destroyed home flashed through his head.

“I- I think I do need a place to stay.” Ranboo sheepishly admitted, pulling himself up from the floor and balancing himself.

“Yeah? What’s been going on with you, by the way? ‘Cause like, we haven’t spoken in a bit, and I- I know that book was very precious to you, but I- I didn’t know exactly why.”

“Oh, it uh, keeps who my friends are in it, so I don’t forget, cause you know I have very bad memory issues.” His armor was put back on in a couple of seconds and he traveled back outside. “So, uh, I keep all of my friendships in the book, which is - has, changed quite a bit from today so I might need to update it.” The Panic Room was covered up once more. “I’ll be in L’manburg in a second- or what used to be. I’ll be in the big hole in a second.”

“I can get there, I can get there. Give me time, give me time.”

Silence fell between the two as they both traveled to the same destination and Ranboo wondered who was going to be the one to break it.

“So where did you go? Were you still around? ‘Cause it was hectic.”

“Yeah, I had a wither chasing me the entire time, so I kinda couldn’t just leave.”

A sharp intake of breath. “Yeah, sorry about that-”

“Oh, it’s okay-” Laughter could be heard from the two males.

“Are you in L’manburg now, by the way?” Phil asked.

Ranboo looked around, confirming his whereabouts. “Oh, uh, yeah, I’m next to the staircase that leads up to the Prime Path.”

“Alright, let me see if I can aim this. It might be off though.” A whoosh of the trident, ad Phil was standing right in front of him, his damaged wing tucked safely against his back. Ranboo hadn’t heard the full story, but from the information he gathered, one of his wings was singed beyond repair and was just dead weight on his back from protecting Wilbur from the heat of the blast. “Oh, this staircase has seen better days.”

That elicited a chuckle out of the taller male. “A lot of this place has seen better days, in case you didn’t realize.” They traversed up the pathway, twisting and turning through the multitude of wooden slabs beneath their feet.

“It’s fine, we needed a change. It had to be done.” Phil waved it off.

“Yeah, actually. I kind of understand why.”

“You got everything you need?” Ranboo skimmed through his inventory.

“Yeah, actually. I had all of my mending books in a secret barrel in my house but I guess I’m not getting those.” Ranboo grimaced at the thought.

They conversed for a while longer, traveling through the Nether before arriving at and entering into Techno’s and Phil’s home.

“Yeah, so you can stay here until we can start working on your house.” Phil gestured to the couch. “I was thinking of building it next to the mountain that’s behind the house, so it would be somewhat ingrained into the mountain but not fully.”

Ranboo could only just nod, not able to fully express his gratitude besides a simple “Thank you.”

Phil smiled at Ranboo. “It’s not a problem mate. It’s the least I could do after destroying your only house. Get some rest, yeah? I should also tell Techno you’re here so he won’t immediately kill you as soon as he sees you.”

Ranboo chuckled nervously. “Oh yeah, that sounds good.”

“Yeah, I’ve got to get going, you’ll be okay on your own, right?” Phil stopped his shuffling to look at Ranboo, and to his relief, avoided eye contact. “Yeah, I’ll be fine. Thank you, again.” Ranboo shited where he stood, opting to stare at the floor.

“As I’ve said before, it’s not a problem mate. I’ll be out for a while, and Techno should be back before I will, bye Ranboo!”

“Bye Phil!”

---

Techno trudged into his house, closing the door behind him before he collapsed against it, the roughed up edges of his armor digging into the wood. His sword rested limply in his hand as he let his body relax. He would definitely have to wash his sword from the blood that stained it.

He pushed away from the door with a groan. The satchels of potions landed on the floors and counters with a thump. He looked around before he spotted a lump laying down on the couch. Techno immediately tensed up, the grip on his blade tightening.

He swiftly but silently went over, his guard never slipping. His sword was raised, ready to be brought down on the intruder, but Techno then saw his face.

It was Ranboo, the kid that Phil had a soft spot for. He blinked a few times before he checked the feather that was clasped to a gold chain and that hung around his neck. He scrolled through a couple of messages, seeing some from Ghostbur, spam from Tommy, and one from both Fundy and Phil.

He clicked on the notification and read what laid before him.

Techno huffed in response, but put down his sword and slid it back into it’s seath. The feather was then nestled back to where it once was before, and as he was doing that, Techno saw that Ranboo was shivering.

The couch could barely hold him and the blankets he had didn’t seem to be doing much for him. Techno grumbled as he made up his decision. He swiftly picked Ranboo up and brought him up the ladder, careful not to awaken him or disturb him as they made the trip upstairs.

Ranboo was softly placed on the older’s bed, the red cloak that once rested upon Techno’s shoulders was instead acting as a makesift blanket for the taller.

Technosoft!

/rainbowchat

Caringblade

Technosoft

mic muted!

Technosoft

“Shut up Chat, I am not going soft for this kid.” Techno grumbled.

Throw him out! He’s only gonna hurt us like Tommy did!

Tsundereblade!

Blood!

Techno only sighed in response before he went back downstairs, ignoring Chat as he headed over to the couch and placed his sword next to him.

“Goodnight Chat.”

Night!

Gnight!

goodnight !

Techno shut his eyes, and let his body rest.

#philza #technoblade #ranbooo #wilbur soot #tommyinnit #tubbo #fundy #sleepy bois inc #dreamsmp #minecraft #mcyt

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wroammin · 4 years

Text

a hero’s welcome

word count: 1445

warnings: self-loathing, panic attacks, crying, slight gore (because remus)

summary: roman hides out in his room after the events of putting others first. the other sides try to show him how much he’s missed in their own special ways.

once again, happy birthday to the man, the myth, the himbo: roman sanders

it takes weeks for roman to come out of his room after janus reveals his name.

the others worry almost constantly about his well-being, but after multiple failed attempts at convincing him to come out for movie nights, video recordings, or even just food, they can only hope that roman will come around on his own eventually.

and he does. slowly.

it starts with a few missing disney movies from the TV cabinet, a half-eaten jar of logan’s off-limits crofter’s (which both logan & remus swear they did not touch) left mysteriously on the kitchen counter, and then, on one particularly late night for logan, a brief, silent encounter with a bleary-eyed prince in search of a cup of water.

logan notices roman is looking more bedraggled than bedazzled, with wrinkles running all across his costume and dark-colored bags under his eyes that are eerily reminiscent of virgil’s eyeshadow.

no words are exchanged, but as logan carefully hands roman a glass which he’s filled nearly to the brim, roman knows no words are necessary. he can practically recite logan’s self-care spiel by memory anyway.

eventually, the disney movie collection in the TV cabinet dwindles down to a Frozen DVD (which they’d all recently rewatched anyway), and the old, dusty VHS copy of Black Cauldron (which roman’s never particularly liked). seeing as it’s his personal favorite disney movie, virgil tries not to feel too offended by that.

what virgil can’t stop himself from feeling, however, is worry. it’s not an unfamiliar feeling to him, of course, but it doesn’t make him any less uncomfortable.

he tries all of the usual things to calm his nerves: sitting on strange surfaces, fiddling with a fidget cube, rewatching The Nightmare Before Christmas, napping excessively, and—naturally—blasting music through his bulky headphones.

but even with My Chemical Romance screaming out of his speakers, virgil simply can’t ignore the alarming absence of that familiar, sash-framed figure.

despite his quarrelsome quips with the prince, virgil can admit that there’s always been a certain... comfort to hearing roman’s boisterous voice belting broadway ballads down the halls, or seeing him dash off on another adventure to defeat the dragon witch for the umpteenth time.

it’s when virgil’s sullenly staring at roman’s usual spot, in the corner of his room, that an idea suddenly strikes him.

the next morning, roman sneaks down to the living room in the early hours of the day after deciding that rewatching Frozen (again) doesn’t sound so bad after all. he opens the movie cabinet to find a bit of a surprise in the form of a The Nightmare Before Christmas DVD with a scrap of paper taped hastily to the cover. the chicken scratch scrawled onto the sheet is hard to decipher, but he manages to see it reads:

“i have my own backup copy and i’ll hit play at 8pm tonight. you can do it too, so then we can sort of watch the movie together. i’ll let you pick tomorrow’s movie, if you want to, but fyi i will be picking black cauldron the next time it’s my turn. -virgil”

roman smiles subtly as he makes his way back up to his room, the first flicker of joy he’s felt in a while.

he sits down to watch the movie at 8pm, just like virgil instructed.

for the next night, he chooses aladdin, and for the night after that, he begrudgingly agrees to watch black cauldron.

twenty minutes into the film, virgil hears a haste knock at his door. before he even knows what’s happening, roman is shuffling inside and curling up on the couch next to him.

unsurprisingly, the tired prince falls asleep before the movie finishes. surprisingly, virgil doesn’t actually mind all that much.

meanwhile, patton has nearly eaten his way through the entire cookie stock in the pantry.

it’s not a healthy coping mechanism for his sadness, he knows, but it’s not like he can just go and ask roman to conjure up some puppies for him instead. patton sniffles at the thought, which serves as a painful reminder of how roman was always there for him when he was feeling down, and how patton can’t do the same for him now.

the others hold an intervention for him after logan finds him sobbing over some reheated spaghetti because it made him think of roman. virgil then explains how he’s been watching movies with roman, and how patton can leave some snacks for the prince in the cabinet along with a note if he wants to send a message.

that very night, patton stays up past midnight to prepare some spaghetti with extra, extra love (& cumin) for roman. he draws him a card and writes a message inside, then sticks it to the top of the tupperware container containing the spaghetti using glitter glue.

upon discovering patton’s care package beside virgil’s usual note inside the cabinet, roman feels his mood suddenly shift.

he thinks of the days he spent sobbing for hours inside of his room and staring in the mirror and pacing back and forth and staring in the mirror and laying on his bed and staring in the mirror and working through the tears and staring in the mirror and then slicing a line clean through the mirror with his sword and watching his reflection split in two.

those weren’t good days.

but then he thinks of patton’s pleading, hopeful voice whenever he would call him down for movie nights, video recordings, or food.

maybe patton wasn’t lying when he said roman was loved. maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to see him and the others out in the open again. maybe there were better days ahead.

remus, however, doesn’t wait around for roman to feel better. as always, he continuously swings by his brother’s room whenever he feels like it and leaves whenever he pleases.

still, his visits aren’t as fun anymore. perhaps he just doesn’t have the energy, but roman no longer bothers to shriek at remus to get out of his room or to push remus off his desk when he drapes himself across it.

not even the severed, mutilated head that remus kindly leaves on roman’s pillow elicits its usual slew of creative curse words, so the duke decides to step up his game.

he skips casually into roman’s room one late afternoon, lazily swinging his morning star at his side and whistling a jaunty tune. as usual, roman doesn’t spare him a single glance. he’s staring down at some kind of crayon-covered card.

it only takes one hit to knock roman out, but dragging him into the living room is a much more difficult process.

the other sides are already waiting, just like janus promised they would be. they rush over and prop roman up on the couch. patton gives remus a few reprimanding words, virgil sends him a couple scowls, and even logan looks on with more disapproval than usual, but they quickly forget their anger at him as soon as roman groans groggily and slowly blinks open his eyes.

remus takes that as his cue to leave. janus is waiting at the top of the stairs.

“so you’re sure that this plan of yours is going to work?”

janus scoffs. “of course i am. though, have you considered that perhaps you’re just not as annoying to your brother anymore?”

“have you considered that perhaps i could start leaving chopped heads on your pillow instead if your ‘master plan’ fails?” remus shoots him the prettiest, toothiest smile he can muster.

janus’ expression darkens. “well. i suppose it’s a good thing i’m certain it will work, then.”

the sound of laughter bubbles up from the living room. janus doesn’t bother to hide his satisfied smirk.

“i’ll say, when you told me you could help me get roman back to normal, forcing him to attend a party was not what i had in mind.”

“do i even want to know what you had in mind?” janus gives him a quick side glance.

remus’ eyes light up. “well–”

“rhetorical question, remus. ugh, maybe i should start saying ‘figuratively’, as well. anyway, yes, i thought it was about time roman stopped sulking. so, what better way to get him out of his room than by having a, uh, hero’s welcome of sorts for him?”

“well, i got him out of his room by dragging him by his feet.”

janus sighs, wondering why he even opens his mouth to speak anymore.

his plan better work.

though, judging by the sound of patton and logan’s exhasperated sighs as roman and virgil argue over which movie to watch, he has the sneaking suspicion it will.

#me looking at the warnings on this like hm yes. this is totally fluffy birthday material #also if anyone has any idea what’s going in this lmk because i have No idea and i’ve read it like thirty times #and remember to roast me for any typos you find #sanders sides #thomas sanders #roman sanders #logan sanders #virgil sanders #remus sanders #patton sanders #janus sanders #roman angst #bullet fic #sanders sides fanfiction #fanfic #emma’s stuff #crying #long post

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free--therapy · 3 years

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Intro to Exposure Therapy

Exposure Therapy has been shown to be the most effective treatment for those experiencing anxiety or anxiety disorders. Exposure Therapy is the process of slowly and gradually exposing ourselves to the things that give us anxiety or may elicit fear, in order to become less afraid of them. It's how we can learn to overcome our fears!

ET helps us to retrain our brains to conquer the things that scare us instead of trying to "get used to" the things that make us uncomfortable. It's about rewiring our brains to stop sending a fear signal when there isn't any actual danger.

One of the reasons why so many of us struggle against our anxiety attacks and phobias is because we recognize that these fears are actually exaggerated and illogical. We try hard to talk to ourselves out of these fears, but they never seem to help. The next step that seems to make sense to us in the moment is to completely avoid the fear, which unfortunately actually ends up strengthening the fear as opposed to eliminating it.

Fight or Flight - The Survival Mechanism

Perhaps you have heard of the Fight or Flight response? When our brains get a signal of danger, it triggers an immediate response in us (Fight or Flight - sometimes also Freeze or Fawn). It's important to note that this is actually a good thing because if we are actually facing something dangerous, we need to make sure we react quickly and powerfully, whether it be to stop and fight, or run away (flight).

If we think back to the world before modern conveniences, humans evolved in a very different place full of predators, without police forces or deadbolts on our doors. Their main survival purposes were to make sure they have enough food to eat each day without ending up as food for someone else. If you can think about it from the perspective of wild animals now, this is how they survive on the daily as well. Us, along with animals need a good emergency alert system to allow ourselves to survive and do so through adapting to our environments by conquering our fears.

At those times, if we had relied on the intellectual, thinking parts of our brains (the cerebral cortex) to keep us safe, we would be extinct by now. It's way too slow for survival, but good for problem solving, writing taxes, writing a story, etc.

The Amygdala

The part of our brain that does handle these survival responses is very different from the part of the brain we're usually most familiar with. The Amygdala is an almond shaped part of our brain that's located within the temporal lobes of our brain's cerebrum, and is responsible for the processing of memory, decision-making and emotional responses (including fear, anxiety, and aggression). It works very quickly without our conscious awareness, because speed is vital when it comes to protecting ourselves from threats. The only time we usually find out what it does is when we feel its effects in our body. This includes those familiar sensations of panic, and the behavior it elicits: run, hide, duck, etc.

Anxiety is a result of our Amygdala working--it's a survival mechanism that we all have. It's not meant to be turned on all the time, but a lot of us deal with it being in constant use, which is the root of our exacerbated anxiety.

Whenever it comes to making decisions on what to do in certain situations, there are 2 possible kinds of errors we can make: a false positive or a false negative. An example of a false positive can be when we're taking a walk in the forest and we may decide there's a bear hiding among the trees, but there isn't one. A false positive error will make us afraid in the absence of danger, but we don't get eaten. An example of a false negative can be walking in that forest again, deciding there's no bear among the trees, but there actually is on. A false negative error is when we feel okay, but we're going to get eaten.

Our Amygdalas don't care how many times we scare it unnecessarily. It can't distinguish between a real danger or one we perceive as one. Its purpose is to keep us alive by not making any false negative mistakes. Unfortunately there are negative aspects to this if we are constantly in a state of anxiety or fear. This is why we need to learn how to overcome our phobias and anxiety attacks. We need to rewire our brains to understand that not everything is a threat so we can shut off the anxiety we feel when it's not needed and actually relax. Essentially, we need to train our brains to disarm itself when it comes to situations we know aren't actually dangerous to us. Exposure therapy is the perfect most direct and systematic treatment to retrain this part of our brains!

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dhiabori · 3 years

Text

SONYA WAKES UP ―

CW ― panic attack, intimate whumper, religious guilt

TIMELINE ― immediately (approx. 12hrs?) after Pyotr ‘rescues’ Sonya from his cabin

Sonya drifts towards wakefulness slowly. Memories dig at his mind, sharp fragments that hurt to think about: his father’s hands over his, helping him milk a cow. His brother ― a name that slips through his fingers ― weaving flower crowns in a meadow, laughing in sun-dusted glory. His mother working away at her lathe, showering him with scraps of sawdust.

Or perhaps they’re not his family at all. Perhaps they’re strangers. Perhaps ― the darkness is bigger than all three of them, bigger than him, yawning, gulping him into its black maw ―

He blinks. His eyelids are heavy. His body is sharp, and hot, and wrong. There’s light, light that hurts, light that burns― danger―

Trying to sit up, Sonya finds that he can’t. His limbs are weak, flimsy; he’s lying on a bed, and the sheets scrape against his skin, and he’s hot, he’s cold -- his chest heaves with terrified breaths, heartbeat dancing in his ears. Where is he?

A tiny, cramped room, one he doesn’t recognise from the shards of his past; it thrums and rattles beneath him, and he wonders whether it’s going to fall apart. Whether he’s trapped ― of course he’s trapped, rabbit in a trap, prey, he’s prey ―

His train of thought skitters to a halt when he notices the man, watching him from a chair. Again, not a face he knows, not his father: a tough, rock-cut face, dark eyebrows shadowing biting blue eyes. Sonya instincts label it a predator’s face, with a sharp, cruel mouth, only barely hidden by the man’s beard. Predator ― that makes him prey, food for this man, the hunter who’s trapped him, hobbled him.

Get out. That’s the only thought he can cling to. He thinks the man has spoken, but the words glance off his terror, subsumed by the need to go.

Scrabbling at the sheets, Sonya sits up, trying to drag himself off the bed. Oh, the world spins, head pounding fiercely, but he has to ― he needs to. He stumbles to his feet, trying to make those wobbly, aching legs do his bidding.

The man stands with him, whispering words Sonya can’t understand. They stare at each other, gauging: predator, prey. Hunter, hunted.

As the man reaches out, Sonya darts forward, towards the door. Get out, go, go, his mind screams, an animalistic desperation burning through him.

His legs won’t work, though. Stumbling, he careens into the man. No. No -- the man’s arms close around him, and Sonya’s chest tightens, raw instinct bubbling forward. He tries to bite the man, sinking teeth into his arm, thrashing desperately; a scream slides out around a leather sleeve, raw and desperate. No. If he can’t escape, he’ll be eaten. And he can’t ― he thrashes, fighting exhaustion, fixed bloody-mindedly on the door.

The man’s grip remains firm. Sonya’s lungs scream; he releases the man, howling, squirming desperately. No no no nonono. Now the man’s mouth is against his ear, tickling, whispering: shhh. But he can’t, he can’t just lie down and offer himself up, he can’t bear the thought of jaws around his throat ―

The memory. The memory, the memory― the―

At last, Sonya goes limp in the man’s arms, tears burning down his cheeks. He can’t fight it anymore: death comes for everyone. For lambs, brought to slaughter, for stupid little ― creatures ― who can’t run fast enough.

His breath comes in short gasps, waiting for the inevitable. The man maneuvers him back onto the bed, cradling him; Sonya can hear his heartbeat, slow, methodical, thumping under the dancing rhythm of his own.

Sonya waits for the final blow. The teeth. Feels the man’s breath flutter against his neck. Please, just do it quickly.

It doesn’t come. A moment trickles by, and all the man does is sigh.

“It’s alright, little one,” he says, voice a low rumble. “No more of that, please.”

“But ― you’re, you’re―” Sonya’s voice aches from disuse.

“I’m not going to hurt you, darling.” The man’s hand finds his hair, stroking through it gently. Part of Sonya hates himself for how easily he melts into it. “See?”

He whimpers. It would be so easy to trust. So easy, if there wasn’t the memory―

“Here, I know,” says the man. Sonya’s glad he can’t see his predator-face; his voice is steady. Grounding. “I’ll tell you a bit about me. Then you’ll have something of me.”

Sonya nods. He’ll agree to anything, if it doesn’t end with his innards splashed around the room.

“My name is Pyotr Vitalievich Zaytsev. I’m forty-six years old, and I live in St. Petersburg. I’m the governor, actually. My mother was from the Volga region.”

“Oh.” Sonya’s head aches with the effort of comprehension. St. Petersburg. The capital. Home of the Tsar. Volga. He feels like ― knows ― he should recognise it, but the meaning falls flat.

“What’s your name, little one?” Asks the man.

“Um―” the only one Sonya can think of is plucked from a half-memory, straight from his mother’s lips. “Sonya.”

“Ah.” There’s a note of disappointment in Pyotr’s voice. “So you’re not―”

“I, I, I am a boy.” It just slips out; now Sonya understands why his body feels so wrong. That, at least, is a piece of the puzzle the fragments can solve.

“Thought so.”

Between Pyotr’s steady hand and the rocking of the room, Sonya feels drowsiness begin to creep up on him. Yet the uneasiness remains, gnawing away at his insides. Reminding him there’s so much he doesn’t know.

“Where― where, where are we?”

“On a train to St. Petersburg, darling.” The way Pyotr says darling, equal parts fondness and amusement, makes something pathetic flare in Sonya’s chest.

“Oh.”

In the silence, he feels so terribly out of place. Wrong, in his own skin, and not just because his body doesn’t fit. Everything’s too sharp, too clean cut ― every time his tongue moves in his mouth, it’s confronted with the sharpness of his canines.

Fangs. The memories don’t attest to them.

“What, what am I?” He almost doesn’t want to ask.

“An upyr, my little one.” Pyotr says it with such loving revulsion that a shiver dances over Sonya’s skin.

“Upyr,” Sonya repeats, feeling it out. Vampire. Unholy ― the thought twists his stomach, sets his heart skittering a little faster. Unholy and disgusting. “I’m―”

“Damned.” Pyotr speaks the word Sonya doesn’t dare to, the word that makes him feel sick. “I know, little one, but it’s alright― I’m here to save you.”

“Please.”

Pyotr just hums, tangling his fingers in Sonya’s hair. His nails scrape gently along his scalp, eliciting a moan of pleasure.

“It’ll be alright,” he murmurs, “You’ll be home soon. You’ll be safe. All you need to do is trust me.”

Of course, Sonya does.

#panic attack tw #whump #creepy whumper #intimate whumper #captive whump #psychological whump #religious trauma tw #vampire whump #supernatural whump #vampire whumpee #supernatural whumpee #sonya's st. petersburg #sonya petrovich zaytsev #pyotr vitalievich zaytsev

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meganshinsou-tm · 5 years

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two peas in a pod. (f)

☙ pairing: izuku x reader

☙ theme: pro hero/expecting father deku

☙ cw/tw: profanity, mentions of sex, fluff pure fluff, dad deku, domestic, yukio midoriya*

☙ a/n-request: after re-watching BNHA one day and seeing baby deku, i felt compelled to give him his own adorable own mini me.

“P-p-pregnant!”

Deku’s emerald eyes were wide with shock, his hands waving in the air as he continued to sputter and full on panic. Sweat was crossing his brow and his freckled cheeks turned red.

“B-but how?”

You smiled and ran a hand through Deku’s unruly green hair before grabbing and rubbing his shoulders to try and calm him. The hero took a few deep breaths as he walked back and sat against the big oak desk in his office. His index finger tugged at the collar of his hero suit as the other fanned himself.

“Izu, you and I both know how it happened,” you chimed quietly and cupped his cheek, tilting his face up to look at you.

There was no possible way for the hero’s face to get redder but like always he proved you wrong. A yelp came from his mouth as he hid his face in giant scarred hands, a fucking yelp! Even at over 6 ft. and a hulking 200+ pounds, Izuku Midoriya could still become a mumbling trembling mess from embarrassment. As always it was adorable.

“Oh, oh man, y-yeah … of course,” he blushed harder before feeling you taking his hands away from his face.

“I can’t imagine what’s going on in your head right now and I’m sorry to just barge in on you here at work but … I just couldn’t wait to tell you, maybe I should’ve waited till you got home -”

The heart in Izuku’s chest dropped and he gasped, realizing how his reaction probably wasn’t what you were hoping for. Man he could be so dumb sometimes, letting his over-dramatic tendencies get in the way at the worst of times!

“No, no, no! I-I’m sorry sweetheart, that wasn’t how I meant to react … I mean I don’t know how to react. We’ve never talked about this, how are you feeling?”

You shrugged, holding Izuku’s hands and looking down at them.

“Well, I feel a little nauseous and tired but that’s normal, other than that I don’t know? You’re right we’ve never talked about, well kids. To be honest on my way here I thought about how I didn’t even know myself if I want kids or if you want kids. I actually cried, I was worried, scared.”

Izuku wrapped his fingers around your hands, securing them tightly in his hold with a reassuring squeeze.

“I mean a kid is a lot of responsibility Izu, it’s an entire other small human whose life we’re responsible for, not like I don’t believe we can’t manage but it’s a lot of work. A lot of time, patience, sleepless nights and long hours. You being a hero, having a kid … I don’t want that to be too much for you is all.”

Too much? Izuku chewed on the inside of his cheek, the sting of tears brimming his eyes.

You were thinking of him, despite what you were saying, the underlying point is that you were thinking of him - before yourself. You, the one with this lifeform developing inside of you, the one whose body would be going through changes to accommodate to that, all while he would just be there. Izuku may have been a self-sacrificing person but he was no competition when it came to you.

“Hey,” Izuku spoke softly and cupped your cheek that fit perfectly in his massive hand, “Forget about my job. For you I’d quit and leave this place without a single regret if that’s what you wanted. Forget about this being too much for me and think if it’ll be too much for you. Baby - you’re the one who would be carrying this child for 9 months, not me. If this is something you want, know that I’ll be there every step of the way to take care of you, make sure you don’t miss a single doctors appointment, rub your back and feet when you need it, get you weird foods at ungodly times, I’ll take off work whenever you need me to. I don’t need these people, this agency, I just need you! I need you happy and healthy, I need you to put yourself first this time. I love you so much with my entire heart and soul, no matter what you choose.”

Your eyes blinked at the hero, tears starting to stream down them and teeth chewing on your lip as you nervously nodded.

“With you … yes, if it’s not too much to ask. Together I know we could do it.”

Izuku smiled, sniffling as he cried softly as well and held your small face in his hands, leaning in and placing a kiss to your lips that was so full of love and joy. Your hands held onto his wrists, standing on the tips of your toes to deepen the action with a growing smile before parting and pressing your foreheads together.

“You could never ask too much of me sweetheart. I’ll do anything, get anything, be anything just for you,” Izuku hummed as he placed a hand on your hip and let his thumb brush over your stomach. “And our baby.”

Did Izuku cry at the birth of his bouncing baby boy? You bet he did, way more than you in fact. When the nurses handed him over into the hero’s arms the waterworks were unstoppable.

“He’s so small! I want to hug him but I’ll probably crush him, how will I ever be able to love my own baby if I crush him!”

You giggled thinking about the day as you loaded the washing machine full of clothes, watching as Izuku and Yukio played heroes and villains in the living room. In your husband’s hand was a Godzilla toy, your son held a Ground Zero and Shouto action figure in both of his own tiny palms with a menacing smile on his face that matched the one of Izuku’s fellow work partner.

“Die, die, die!” Yukio yelled with all his might, green unruly locks like that of his father’s bouncing in front of matching green eyes.

The kid was an exact copy of Izuku, just more freckles. His personality was brave and unwavering, there was no fear in his little body whatsoever. He’d climb the furniture and stand at the highest points with his arms flexed out and yell, “I am here, prepare to die!” Just a little mesh of Izuku and his Uncle Kat’s famous phrases.

The greenette had no idea where his own son’s unabashed spitfire bravery came from, being that when he was a toddler himself he was the exact opposite. Maybe some of it came from you, you could be sassy and a lot to handle at times but Yukio took that to another level.

However though, your kid had his sweet and precious moments that were no doubt all from his dad. He had the same adorable looks, his passion for hero’s or anything else he was interested in was just as fanboy-ish. Of course Izuku encouraged all those things, he never wanted his son to be ashamed of himself but for him to have that burning desire to fulfill his dreams and become whatever he wanted to be. There was nothing that could stop his son but himself.

You walked back into the living room, catching Yukio running and jumping on top of his father with a war cry and releasing his action figures. Izuku laughed and caught the toddler with ease, hugging him close and tickling his sides as he attacked every last freckle on his cheeks with kisses.

So much for being scared of crushing his own kid anymore, now Izuku was a confident father, a wonderful one, more than you could ever ask for.

The two rolled around on the floor laughing and rough housing, they were plain and simple boys to their core and you could never get enough of watching the two interact. Finally, sitting up and crossing his legs, Izuku grabbed Yukio from under his arms and tossed him up into the air as if he weighed nothing, the boy giggled, eliciting a high pitched squeal as he was caught safely in big protective scarred arms. Izuku smiled a lot before but now, it’s as if the smile never left his face, it was permanent. Brushing back his son’s hair, the hero kissed his forehead sweetly. Emerald eyes sparkled at emerald eyes before both sets were looking at you.

“Hey mama,” both voices spoke in sweet and happy unison.

#midoriya izuku #deku #deku x reader #izuku midoriya x reader #bnha #mha #bnha x reader #mha x reader #oc child #yukio midoriya #fluff

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i-write-sometimes-blog · 4 years

Text

Cold Eyes (Dark Rey x Reader) [Part 8]

Summary: Between the uncertainty of what happened to Endor and the confusing trance Rey left you, you struggle with your emotion, even deeper when suddenly she appears in your doorframe. Previous Part.

Words: 2,466

A/N: This one's a bit longer. I hope you enjoy it. And thanks for you all for reading and fire the sweet comments, it really means a lot to me. Flashbacks are in italics.

(gif's no mine. Credit to the owner.)

"You are all useless!" shouted Rey and the people in the room shivered in fear. " A bunch of Incompetents that couldn't just take down a few X-Wings!"

"It was an ambush, Supreme Leader" whined a man in a commander uniform. Rey eyed the man as he swallowed hard as he saw her walking closer to him, a grin on her face.

"An ambush" she said "Commander, you even know what kind of weapons you had in that ship?"

The man nervously looked at the ground.

"The target was easy, you had the right tools" her tone begun to grow with anger with every passing second "And you got beaten by handful of dirty rebels?!"

"They were waiting for us, Supreme Leader" said a woman as she stood up her chair "It was like they knew we were coming, they attacked before we could do something, destroyed the central cannon"

"Then someone told them” said Rey with her blood boiling from the rage. “What is the necessary range to know how the ship works?” Asked Rey and the woman answered almost immediately.

"No need. The blaster is under the ship, aside of the usual ones for protection on the upper part that is the only visible weapon. Would be easy to know if they saw the previous attack"

"Fine. Now I need to know how did they know about Endor.” Rey said walking back to the head of the table, analysing every face from the scared commander to the woman, Rey's gaze stopped on a red haired general that sat confident with a light smirk on his face.

"General Hux" raised her voice again "You're very quiet. Do you happen to know something about this?"

His smirk grew bigger and he prepared himself to speak to his boss.

"Truth to be told, I do, Supreme Leader" he said "I was looking at the database and I noticed a quite interesting message. A transmission that contains the name of the target and also the day of it" he spoke pride of his work knowing he would win not only the trust but the respect of the lady in charge.

"Where the transmission was sent from?"

"It was sent from a TIE fighter ship, exactly the one your apprentice stole in her pathetic escape attend." Rey tensed by the sound of his words, remembering events after that, how much had Y/N hurt her and now she had betrayed her one more time. "Without intentions to blame, Supreme Leader, your apprentice seems to be a spy for the Resistance”

So Y/N had done it, not only tried to run away but you sent a message to them, you were still with them even when they kicked you out and that fact made the suffer in Rey’s body grow stronger.

“I’ll take care of her” Rey said as calm as she could.

“I suggest you get rid of that scum before she compromise another mission. After all she’s nothing more than a disgusting rebel” Continued Hux without thinking his words, he was so confident of himself in those moments. The next thing Hux saw was a red light humming very close to his neck.

"Watch your mouth, General Hux" growled Rey holding her lightsaber dangerously close to his skin. Her face now full of a new threatening expression. No one had the right to insult you- "She's still my apprentice and I won't allow you to talk about her like that"

"But, Supreme Leader, she's a traitor and…"

"She's under my protection, General Hux" Rey said before turning off her saber "And perhaps she was more useful than any of you” she said as the ideas on her mind worked out. Smiling for herself she thought of a new and brilliant plan.

“I don’t understand, Supreme Leader” said Hux now carefully.

“Y/N sent a message and the Resistance showed up. Which means they trust her and that General Hux, is what we are going to use on our favor.”

*******

A few days passed since the last time you talked to Rey, or at least you thought so, it was difficult to know when was day or night, only the helmet of stormtroopers when they brought you some food let you knew the world outside the dark room kept going.

It had passed at least a week. You hadn’t much to do trapped inside those black walls allowing your brain to overthink every word you had told Rey, those words hunted you all nights as well as the feeling of her hand around your neck when she tried to killed you. And the kiss, that sweet and yet confusing that wouldn’t just let you sleep.

Shifting your body in the small bed you stared at the ceiling for longer than you could remember, overwhelmed by your thoughts. A part of you made you think on the Resistance, you hoped they were okay and for the good of them and Endor they had fight the First Order. You wondered who had been in that mission, if some of your friend got hurt… or if they were even alive.

Shaking your head you tried to focus yourself on the lights in the ceiling, how the white of them was a whole difference compared to the dark walls. Your mind started to drag you to the past once again as you remembered the soft smile Rey used to have, back in the days at Resistance.

It was sunny that day as Rey and you wandering over a small planet in search of repairs for the Falcon in a tiny market in the middle of the forest. By the corner of your eyes you caught Rey smiling fascinated with all the colors of the market and the trees above her head.

“Everything good?” you asked her with a chuckle.

“I’m glad you’re enjoying the work” you smiled and then nodded to a market stall that you knew had the needed pieces. “This way”

“Yeah” she told you focusing her eyes now on you “I never stop surprising myself”

She followed you close, still admiring the place. You loved how much her eyes shimmered when she found something new for her and you get it, she used to live in a planet with nothing but sand in it, the rest of the world was completely new for her. And as you were talking with the merchant she was amazed by a dry flower they sell in the next tent.

“You like it?” you said.

“There’s no flowers in Jakku, I bought some but eventually they dried out.” she said with authentic hope in her words. “Do you have everything?” she then said looking at the metallic pieces in your arms as she offered a hand with the stuff.

“Yup” you said leading the way back to the ship. Close to the your ship your gaze focused on some wild flowers growing between the trees and couldn’t help but smile thinking about the way Rey loved flowers, so you picked up some for her, that was already inside the big ship getting everything ready to fly.

She greeted you with a soft smile when you entered to the ship.

“Here” you said handing her the soft purple flowers that immediately made her smile grew bigger with excitement.

“Why?” she said taking the flower closer to her nose so she could smell the delicate fragrance of them.

“I just thought you may like them” you said winking.

“I love them” she said pulling you into a tight hug “Thank you, Y/N” her face amazed by the purple flowers was one of your favorites memories, just to see Rey as happy made your heart melt so much.

The nostalgic was taking over your body again, the Rey from your memories didn’t exist anymore. Running a hand through your face and hair you sat at the end of the bed trying without success to avoid overthinking.

The door suddenly opened, revealing the face of the girl you were thinking of moments ago, but it wasn’t her anymore, the girl standing at the door frame with the dark clothes and the cold glance was a total different person.

You looked at her, unsure of what to say, scared of even speak while Rey just watched you with a wicked grin on her lips.

“Come on” she said nodding outside “I want to show you something, Y/N” she said, her voice made a shiver run down your spine, this was not good you could already tell by the way she was looking at you, you didn’t even know if you would make it alive this time.

You obeyed without pronouncing a word, avoiding her eyes and her closeness as much as you could, feeling the tension between the both of you. She guided you through the endless corridors of the castle until you reached the main hangar where a ship was already waiting for you.

“General Hux” she said as you arrived. You met the man’s eyes, he seemed confident but you could tell he was a little scared by the way he stayed firm in his usual position with his hands crossed in his back. “We’re ready. Take off”

“Immediately, Supreme Leader” he said before leaving the room. You swallowed thickly as there was just Rey and you again, alone. Nervous of making a sudden move you kept looking at the ground but still, you could felt her eyes focused on you.

“This will be so fun, Y/N” you heard her say which only made goosebumps form all over your skin.

The ride was short, gladly, and you didn’t need to talk. But that was driving you slowly crazy, it was her silence, her devilish grin, how everything seemed to be oddly calculated. Just the whole thing made your stomach dropped.

And then the big First Order's ship stopped in front of a planet you haven't seen in a long time, a planet you left hoping to save someday. You homeworld.

"Rey, what are you doing?* You finally asked in panic.

"Just watch, Y/N" she said and then she pushed a button in the console in front of her. "At my signal" she said through a speaker making you feel so much fear to

think what was she going to do, this ship had a huge weapon, you had seen it in action. This ship was made to destroy planets and now she was going to destroy yours.

"Rey" you called out only eliciting a smile in Rey's face "Stop it!!"

"Three" she said, you ran next to her to look at her in the eyes.

"Stop it, please" you told her as you felt your voice started to crack. You didn't understand why she had chosen your planet, only to hurt you but why?

"Two"

That was your old home, the place where you grew up, where you learned to fix ships. And there was a lot of people you knew, good people dedicated mostly to the crop.

"Rey!" You yelled finally attracting her gaze to lay on you. "Please, I'm begging you, don't do this. I'll do whatever you want, just don't shot" you said feeling how the tears started to pool in your eyes. She stopped for a moment, scanning your face before she spoke.

"One"

A powerful red blaster came out of the ship hitting your planet for just some seconds before it all started to break apart and finally exploited.

You screamed in pain as burning tears blurred your vision, an indescribable ache spread from your chest and then your whole body, unable to think as the ashes your planet floated in the space.

“What the fuck have you done?!” you turned to see Rey, the tears never stop flowing down your cheeks.

“What needed to be done, Y/N” she said calmly. Was she serious? she had just destroyed another planet because it had to be done?

“Why?!!” you cried out, collecting all your forces to approached her. “WHY?!” you screamed very close to her. Fastly she grabbed your neck, almost too fast making your cough a bit, she dragged you closer to her face.

“This are the consequences of your actions, Y/N” she hissed “And I’m not talking about your pitiful escape. This is about your little message to the Resistance” she said and you felt how she tighten the grip on your neck as a wave of pain hitted your body with her words. So she had found out and by the anger of hers, they had received the transmission, therefore Endor was still existing. A whole planet saved but at what cost? Another one turned into nothing more than dust leaving an empty space in the galaxy.

Rey let go of you and you gasped for air but before you could do something she grabbed your back and pushed you closer to the big window and used her free hand to force you turn your head to see the ashes of the planet you grew up.

“Look at it!" she growled “You did this, Y/N. All the millions of lifes lie on your hands now, they die because of you!!” she said enraged.

She thrown you to the ground as if you were nothing, didn't even feel the pain as your body met the surface it was nothing compared with all the agony you were feeling inside you.

"Now you better think before trying to do something as stupid as that" you heard her said, slowly you looked over your shoulder to met her glance once again.

"I hate…" a gasp fell from your lips and stopped you from ending the sentence. Your blood frozen by the sight of her face darken by fury but the most alarming thing about her were her eyes. Yellow eyes that burned with genuine rage.

"Say it" she say "Say you hate me"

You kept staring at her eyes unable to form proper words.

"Don't be afraid, say it" she repeated as you cried silently. "I know the way you're feeling, the suffer you're going through. This anger your feeling, let it guide you, Y/N"

"Rey…" you finally managed to raise your shaking voice "This is not you"

"You're wrong, this is the real me" she gave you a wicked smile. To your memory came back her soft smile holding the flowers, just an instant but then you saw reality, her figure standing tall covered in a black version of her usual clothes, a long cape covering most of if and her dark expression that seemed to looked even more evil. The Rey you knew, that sweet girl from Jakku was gone, leaving a monster with yellow eyes behind. Any hope of getting her back was gone.

Tagging: @cpt-bolter , @elvencantation , @jay-birf03 , @x-a-gay-disaster-x , @sheogasms , @hstoria , @iamafangirl-fightme

(In case you want to be tagged for specific things, just let me know)

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thecaffeinebookwarrior · 4 years

Note

How to write triggers?

I’m assuming you mean triggers as in the psychological term, in which a concept or stimulus triggers someone’s emotional trauma. And I’m also assuming you’re asking how to write a character who’s been triggered, and convey their experience accurately.

I might compile a sources masterpost for this, but in the meantime, I’ll respond with what I know about triggers:

1.) Triggers can take virtually any form. It’s not always violence or gore (though those are among the most common.) Dylan Farrow, a survivor of alleged abuse by prolific pedophile Woody Allen, remarked that she felt triggered by trains after watching a toy train during Allen’s abuse. Others are triggered by specific smells or food items, for a myriad of reasons. There is no limit to what a trigger might be.

2.) Triggers rarely bring detailed flashbacks. They bring overwhelming feelings of dread, fear, anguish, and panic. They may trigger anxiety attacks. In other words, a trigger is far more likely to elicit the emotions of a traumatic event, not a recreation of the event itself.

3.) Everyone’s experience of being triggered is different, and they vary in terms of intensity. Whether or not the response to being triggered manifests in emotional or physical symptoms (or both) will also vary widely from person to person. The effects of being triggered can also last from minutes to days, depending on its intensity.

4.) Our understanding of triggers is still limited, and the term itself is relatively new. Treatments for triggers are still in their earliest stages of proposal and development. However, VERY few professionals advocate simply exposing patients to their trigger in order to cure them of that trigger. People can recover from triggers, but it has to be at their own pace and on their own terms.

Once again, this really merits a longer post of compiled resources. However, hopefully this will get you started! My followers are welcome and encouraged to weigh in.

I hope this helps, and happy writing!

#woody allen mention for ts #abuse mention for ts #Anonymous

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gaarasgoddess · 4 years

Text

Welcome to Suna - part 4

Welcome to Suna. Where the lights never die and the fun never stops. Sakura and Ino lie to their parents to spend a wild weekend in a forbidden city. Will they regret it? Or will they both find something worth coming for?Main pairing is GaaraxSakura and side InoxKankuro.[Listening to 1989 album by Taylor Swift.]

Chapter summary: Gaara is attentive during Sakura’s first ever hangover. Fluffy.

[Please read previous parts first. part 1 and part 2 and part 3.]

.x.

Sakura woke with her face pressed into her pillow, her hair unkempt and a warm arm casually stretched out over her back. She did not realise immediately that she was flat on her stomach as the pain in her head hit her first. It was a reminder of what she’d done the night before and how it was her first time drinking excessively. But the reminder was slow coming as she was still half asleep.

Sakura didn’t or couldn’t open her eyes - she didn’t even try but knew she would fail. Her eyelids were heavy and her body was exhausted. She felt like she’d run a marathon.

Did everyone feel like this after over indulging?

She remembered the drinks and the fingers inside her; the kisses and orgasms. But the face of her first time lover was hazy, along with the details of how far they’d gone. She focused on the pain in her body, moving her hips slightly to make sure the soreness was not coming from between her legs.

Thank-fully, it didn’t feel like she’d gone too far in her drunken state. But the feeling was still of having been touched and despite the pain, Sakura silently reveled the memories that were slowly coming back to her. She was still left with the residual feeling of his fingers inside her. Every inch of her body that he’d touched was humming in the aftermath, even hours later.

As she managed to move her head slightly, the body next to her shifted, the warm arm disappearing from her for a few seconds before fingers began trailing down her back gently. A warm kiss to her arm, up her shoulder, and finally on her neck. She moaned softly in both contentment and confusion.

He was next to her, Gaara.

Sakura remembered his face now. Beautiful and well-shaven; his attractiveness wasn’t like those boys she’d fawned over in magazines and on the internet. But he was alluring and handsome, despite this.

Gaara.

Sakura moaned again, pushing herself to roll away from Gaara’s ministrations but internally complaining when he removed his hand. His fingers had been warm and comforting. But she needed to see if he was still the same person she fell asleep next to. In his bed, it seemed.

Amused, light green eyes met hers as she blinked at him, trying to bring his face into focus.

“Morning, sleepy head.” Gaara leant forward and kissed her forehead gently.

“Hm.”

Gaara smirked and she realised his face was only inches from hers. But she didn’t panic and quite liked the way he was looking at her.

“I’d kiss you but morning breath is really bad. Don’t want to turn you off kissing me later,” he said when she frowned, and lifted a hand to brush at her hair. “You look beautiful in the morning. I kind of don’t care that you haven’t brushed your teeth..”

Sakura shook her head reflexively then regretted it when her vision swam. She groaned. It felt like everything she’d eaten and drunk in the last twenty-four hours was trying to come back up.

Gaara’s hand fell to her shoulder and he steadied her as she swayed, even laying down.

“If you need to throw up, I have an en suite.”

“Can’t move,” she muttered. If she did move, the world would spin.

Gaara kissed her forehead again. “Come on.” He climbed out of the bed and walked around it to her side before gently rolling her toward him and helping her to sit up.

Sakura closed her eyes out of necessity and let him help her. She wondered deliriously if he was going to hold her hair for her as she threw up - and why he didn’t seem to be hung over. But Gaara merely helped her to the bathroom and left with the promise of bringing back breakfast.

Alone and crouching next to the pristine, porcelain toilet, Sakura finally looked around the room. This bathroom was the size of her bedroom back home! There was room for a shower, bath/jacuzzi, a huge built in cupboard, vanity, second closet, above average toilet, second sink, and ample floor space for multiple people.

Where the hell am I?

Her memories from last night were still fuzzy but she remembered coming into Gaara’s house through a side entrance and a carpeted staircase and... maybe a portrait the size of a door...?

Ugh. She’d conveniently forgotten how rich it seemed Gaara’s parents were. She didn’t want to think about that - or them. Hopefully she was right with her assumption that he had an entire wing to himself and she would never have to meet the mother and father of the boy she wanted to lose her virginity to.

Sakura felt herself blush and sway at those thoughts. While she was glad he hadn’t taken advantage of her the night before, she still wanted to play this little adventure out. Never mind that Ino would want to know she’d been ‘broken in’ and that. She wanted something to brag about. And Gaara was a gorgeous, sweet and helpful way to making that happen.

She sighed. Her stomach was settling and Sakura didn’t feel like throwing up anymore. Was it usual to not throw up when you drunk this much? She didn’t know. She groaned and tried to stand up but didn’t get far before resigning herself to waiting a little more. Maybe Gaara wouldn’t be too long and would help her again.

When her vision was better, Sakura tried again and found herself slowly walking back into the bedroom. Still alone, she decided to investigate Gaara’s room. If the bathroom was the size of her bedroom, then this room was the size of five of her bedrooms. Or maybe six, she didn’t care.

The four poster bed she’d jumped into the night before was large enough for an orgy... she shook her head of that image and tried to force down her blush. She was going to leave Suna as a deviant for sure. Back in Konoha, she’d never have had that thought.

She admired Gaara’s walk-in-wardrobe, the armoire styled furniture, desk, and other embellishments. She had been in Naruto’s bedroom, back home, and his walls had been covered in ninja and anime posters; his ceiling lit up with glow in the dark stickers with the light out.

But Gaara’s room was immaculate, except for a crumpled shirt and her own hand bag. It was probably his parents doing, or a maid, but she felt uncomfortable now - Gaara was from a world she could never be good enough for. What was she doing with him? And what did he see in her? Surely it wasn’t just to get laid? The daughter of a rich man would satisfy just as much, right?

Feeling sorry for herself, Sakura threw herself back onto the bed but this time stared up at the canopy.

What am I doing here?

Morose thoughts continue until Gaara opened the door and Sakura turned her head to watch him walk in, closing the door. He hadn’t changed clothes or anything but he did look more put together than he was fifteen minutes ago.

He gave a questioning look at the sour expression on her face but said nothing.

“Hot, fried food. Bacon, egss, tomato, onion if you like it. Up you get,” he said, placing the tray of food next to the bed and tugged on her gently. “It’s the hangover cure.”

Smiling, Sakura sat up, reaching out for Gaara as she swayed again. He held her hand as she scooted over to the edge of the bed.

“Thanks,” she mumbled shyly and he grinned.

“You’re welcome, beautiful.”

She flushed and surveyed the food before digging in. It was delicious. She thought for a moment how it tasted fried by a chef but stopped herself from saying it out loud. Gaara picked at some of the food, but kept glancing at her from time to time as they ate in silence. She felt really uncomfortable about that.

The food was good enough to keep going and Sakura finished it off in no time.

She wiped at her mouth with a serviette and washed the food down with a glass of juice, feeling like she was living an opulent lifestyle. It was so strange. Everything was so delicious.

Sakura glanced at Gaara, wanting to break the silence. “It’s ..a nice house.”

“And it’s only the east wing,” he said. “You haven’t seen all of the estate, yet.”

Yet?

“Done?”

Sakura nodded and he stood - he’d sat down next to her - before pulling her up.

“Let’s get our mouths washed so I can continue kissing you again.”

She blushed and reflexively swatted his arm which only made him smirk wider.

When the tooth brush finally left her mouth, and the mouth wash was down the sink, and Sakura had cleaned up her face, and Gaara was also done, he growled.

“Finally.” He cupped the back of her head with his hand and pulled her to him.

The kiss started off soft but intensified when he started suckling and licking, his mouth slanted over hers, his head bobbing in time with his enthusiasm. Sakura gave back just as hard, encircling his head with her arms and tugging on his hair.

Gaara groaned into her mouth, pressing his hips into hers and backing her against the bathroom sink for support. She felt him harden in his pants as he started brushing his hands down her sides and along the underside of her breasts. It was coming to life so fast she was embarrassed!

He was excited and she felt light and happy at the feel of his body pressed against her even as their mouths attacked each other. She loved his kisses - the perfect balance between wet and dry. She loved his hands - so warm and sensual and still large and so masculine as they explored her body.

When he admitted defeat and finally pulled away, Gaara’s right hand started stroking her hair and his left flicked her nipple, eliciting a groan from her.

Gaara kissed her lips chastely even as he smirked into her mouth and his left hand began to arouse her breast. “So, what shall we do with ourselves now?”

#gaasaku #gaara x sakura #Sabaku No Gaara #Haruno Sakura #sakura #gaara #Ino x Kankuro #drabble #my story

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