#slayer of anxiety and panic

[bartholomew-the-frog]

Barthy went to a fair!

He had a lovely time riding rides, eating snacks, and playing games!

This lovely art is by @ghostly-bugs ! Thank you so much for it! It's adorable!

#barth me boi #bartholomew the frog #frog #little stuffed animal #my frog #bartholomew jason jameson the 3rd #stuffed animal #slayer of anxiety and panic #he having a good time #drawing #at the fair #art by @Ghostly-bugs #its lovely art! #absolutely what i wanted #thank you so so so so so so so much ghostly_bugs!

[girl4music]

Can I just talk about this scene for a hot minute? I don’t think people realize how important it really is for more than just the first on-screen kiss part of it and therefore why it actually belongs in this episode.

Willow is hyper-fixating on what type of clothing she’s going to wear to meet Buffy at the hospital, as it’s really the only thing she can control right now as everything else is falling apart around her. Her mind is panicking as she tries to think of all the meanings a piece of cloth can have while Tara tries to reassure her that it really doesn’t matter what she wears. But Willow is not listening as she tries to figure it all out.

Willow is near to having a full blown panic attack in this scene. There is such turmoil going on in her head. So much distress and fear. So she externalises those emotions and those thoughts by worrying over what she should wear because that’s tangible. That’s something she has within her reach to grasp on to. Something she can control. She’s projecting the mental chaos. A way of dealing with an uncontrollable situation. And it’s bloody brillIant. Incredibly well performed by Alyson Hannigan. She absolutely nails what it’s like to experience deep levels of anxiety. The compulsive overthinking The intense feelings of loss of control. The hyperventilating. The shaking. The trembling. The crying. The worrying. The wandering back and forth. The physical freezing up. The none-deciding or non-concluding and around and around again. Over and over again. Just the complete irresolution of the whole experience of an anxiety attack. Until someone takes you out of your fucking insane chaotic head.

SHE NAILS IT!!!

Everything is so well performed, written, directed and produced in this episode. It’s probably the greatest piece of performance art I have ever seen in my life. But THIS scene. This scene hits fucking home for me. Gellar gets A LOT of praise for her performance and rightly so. But Hannigan’s is just as fantastic to me because she realistically portrays OCD the way Gellar realistically portrays PTSD. Through the experience of visceral reactions. In fact all the actors are really good at portraying deep levels of complex trauma all throughout ‘The Body’ that are worth mentioning and meriting. Praising.

Regarding ‘The Kiss’.

A lot of people do not like that Tillow’s first on-screen kiss was in this episode because it can’t be enjoyed in the same way it could if it was in another episode and thus it seems inappropriate to have it in ‘The Body’. Joss said that actually it was appropriate to put it here because it humanises their romantic/sexual relationship. It’s the way Tara just goes in for the kiss after first kissing her forehead, knowing it’s not going to be enough to calm her girlfriend down and the way Willow readily accepts. It’s a sweet kiss. One filled with compassion and reassurance. I disagree that it didn’t belong here. I definitely think this was the right way to have their first on-screen kiss because this couple is absolutely encapsulated in mutual validation. So it’s only right that their first on-screen kiss be used for that purpose. Validation.

Tara’s aim is to comfort Willow, not to overstep her boundaries. Willow needs her presence all around her to take her out of her chaotic head. It’s being in her head that is triggering her anxiety to escalate into a panic attack. Tara intuitively knew that she needed to pull her away from that and the only way to do it was through physical sensation. It was right. When you kiss someone, you’re pulling their energy into yours and you’re transferring yours to theirs. I can imagine that Empaths are great lovers because of this and while it’s been pointed out that Tara isn’t an Empath herself, she clearly possesses the potential to be one because she can read energy and instinctively knows how to use her own energy to comfort and to validate someone else’s energy.

That’s your basic definition and purpose of an Empath. To take away pain or negative energy through absorbing it into yourself. And Tara doesn’t just do that for Willow - her girlfriend. She does it for the others too. And ‘The Body’ best depicts her skill of empathy. If it was anyone else, yeah, maybe the kiss wouldn’t have been a good idea to put here. But because it is, I think it really works that it is here because it’s who Tara Maclay is. It’s her purpose in serving a narrative that doesn’t revolve around her but effectively makes her stand out among the rest. It wasn’t in bad taste to put their first kiss here. Quite the opposite. It humanises same-sex love.

#buffy the vampire slayer #the body #willow and tara #willow rosenberg #alyson hannigan #tara maclay #amber benson #anxiety #panic #attack #reaction #OCD #empath #empathy #first on-screen kiss #lesbian represention #wlw representation

[beansprean]

My Familiar’s Ghost part 46

Masterpost

(ID in alt and under cut)

ID: 1. Waist up of Nadja on a blue and mauve background wearing a purple dress and her hair up in a messy bun. She holds up a hand, brow creased in concern, and says ‘Wait, wait, Guillermo, slow down.’ 2. Zoom out to show her and Dolly sitting at a low coffee table with an open box labeled ‘glass eyes’ and a brown taxidermy rabbit wearing a striped sweater and a pair of round wire glasses. Nadja studies it with her hand on her chin, tongue poking out in concentration, and says ‘I am trying to find the best likeness…’ Dolly, little hands perched on the table, pipes up, ‘The mahogany, I think.’ In the foreground, ghost Guillermo’s shoulder and left arm are visible, hand hovering in midair and shaking with frustration. 3. Repeat. Guillermo curls his hand into a fist and lashes it downwards, shouting, ‘Are you even listening to me?!’ The table and all its contents bounces upwards, surrounded by his ghostly light, sending eyes scattering around and knocking the rabbit over. Nadja startles backward in shock and Dolly flicks her eyes toward Guillermo in surprise. 4. Shot of Guillermo on a blazing orange background splattered with red. He hovers, nearly-complete wraith cloak spiking around him with anxiety, and presses his hands to either side of his head with an expression of pure panic. He shrieks, ‘Vampire me is running on pure slayer instinct, mindlessly killing every vampire he comes across! And I just sent Nandor straight to him!’ 5. Reverse shot of Nadja and Dolly busying themselves by putting glass eyes back into their box. Nadja scowls and sucks her teeth dismissively, mocking, ‘’Slayer instinct’… I handled four of you on my own, Nandor can handle one.’ Dolly points out, ‘A vampiric one he can’t hypnotize.’ Nadja shoots back, ‘Whatever! What kind of great warrior would he be if he can’t even beat his own familiar?’ 6. Shot moves to include Guillermo floating on the other side of the table, Nadja in profile. She looks at him with an unimpressed expression and leans forward, elbow on the table, gesturing with her hand. She continues, ‘Besides, unlike your delightful murderful family, you never got the sweaty juice-bumps that made you want to kill us.’ Guillermo, calmed slightly, turns a bit pink and wrings his hands together, replying haltingly ‘Um. I mean. I did, at first. I just…may have…misinterpreted…’ 7. Repeat. Guillermo looks away, flustered, turning redder. Nadja drops her hand and stares at him questioningly. 8. Repeat. Nadja has a realization and gasps in delight, slapping her palm down on the table and grinning proudly at Guillermo, eyes full of stars. She crows, ‘You horny little mongrel!’ Guillermo avoids her gaze, only getting redder and more flustered, and tosses his hands up, saying, ‘Let’s not talk about that now!’ /end ID

#wwdits #my familiars ghost #ghost Guillermo #guillermo de la cruz #nadja of antipaxos #nadja doll #what we do in the shadows #what we do in the shadows fx #my art #fanart #fan comic #image described

[prose-for-hire]

High Stakes

Pairing: Spike x witch!reader (gn)

Request: I was wondering about maybe one where spike and reader are in a relationship like a really healthy one and he is completely in love them but the scooby gang ask them to do some really big draining spell because they are more powerful witch then willow and like reader starts to panic once leaving the magic box with spike and he is super concerned and like they start to have a panic attack and he immediately starts calming them down and looking after them and it’s just really fluffy and angsty.

Requested by: @witchb1tches

Warning: Reader has a panic attack. Crying. 

There was a storm brewing. The sky was dark but only you could feel it. You were at one with the elements. A powerful sorcerer who had unfathomable power. As you waled briskly through the streets, your hands laced with Spike’s, you tried to push down your anxieties and focus on the feeling of his hand in yours.

You and Spike had been together for years. He adored you with ever fibre of his being and you matched his love in every way. It was a love that others only dreamed of. You had met at a demon bar one evening and in attempting to impress you, Spike had picked a fight with half of the bar. When he got in trouble and they all tried to jump him at once, you stood up raised your hand, making the entire crowd slam into the back wall of the bar as if shoved by an invisible force.

Spike had just stared, mouth wide open as you winked and left him in the bar, saying your goodbyes. Although you didn’t agree with love at first sight, the ground started humming and the breeze that whistled through your ears on the way home telling you that you had met the one. You waited though, to see if he would make the first move. To test if it really was fate.

You had run into each other several times after that and after getting over the fact that you were friends with the Slayer, he built up the courage to ask you on an actual date. He had even brought flowers that looked suspiciously like they had been swiped from a nearby grave. He had been rather bashful and it had been incredibly endearing, you only understood later on why he was so nervous of rejection.

You had been laying in bed when you got the SOS message from Xander. Some big evil this or some creepy spell that. You knew you had to come as fast as you could and your vampire insisted he was only coming to try and score a nip of blood, but you knew him better than that.

“Don’t know why they think you’re at their every bleedin’ beck and call” Spike had been sulking the entire way there, his unlit cigarette bobbing from his mouth as he spoke. He mostly did it to see you smile, he was very fond of your smile. He did this, especially when he sensed that you were feeling tense about something.

“Spike, it’s the end of the world, we can’t just hold each other and wait for it to get us”

“If it was the end of the world, we’d be doin’ more than cuddlin’. That I can tell you, pet” he pointed at you, his cigarette between his fingers as a curl of smoke escaped his smirk. You rolled your eyes and pushed him playfully as you walked.

“I have power, it would be wrong not to do something to help”

“No, what’s wrong is callin’ up a vampire in the middle of the afternoon while he’s trying to sleep! Apocalypses are ten-to-the-bloody-dozen ‘round here, we could have finished our nap and still caught the next one, I wager”

“That may be true, but-” You started to defend your younger friends and Giles, but that was when you sensed it. The coming storm had distracted you but now you saw it. The Magic Box was ablaze, green fire licked the building and what looked like a tornado inside the store fanned the flames.

You ran straight into the fire, with Spike trying to pull you back. You shot him a meaningful look, your intentions sending your thoughts and reasons into his own head. He nodded, understanding, the fire was magically suspended, something (probably Willow and Tara) was working against the damage.

When you both arrived, Spike had a hand firmly on your waist, he knew that in this sort of fight, you were the one that was doing the protecting. He was man enough to admit that. But it didn’t stop him wanting to ensure that you were by his side. Safe from harm’s way.

The scene was pure chaos, and not in a nice, neat, easy-to-calm way. You had ceased many of those for your friends before. This one was different. An invisible tornado had whipped up around the store, the noise was so loud it was near impossible to hear yourself think. Anya was trying to hold down anything valuable from getting more broken while Giles and Willow were screaming incantations over the din.

“No bloody way” Spike muttered, taking you hand and trying to lead you out again. There was no sodding, buggering, bloody way that you two were getting involved in this one. The slayer and her little friends could fry for all he cared. Just so long as it didn’t involve you.

Buffy was trying to fight the air around her, with Xander on back up, as some force kept attacking the two that were trying to reduce the amount of fire that threatened to consume them.

That was when you saw it. In the centre of the room, the eye of the tornado.

“Th-that book…” You said softly. You knew that book, you could feel the ancient power rolling off it. Humans couldn’t touch that book unless they were powerful enough to withstand it’s hold on their souls.

And seemingly, Tara had touched it. She was suspended in the corner of the room, eyes black and her hair to match. She was a good witch, but not powerful enough to withstand something like that. You weren’t even sure that you were.

How had they found it? Why was it here?

No wonder the world was ending. One chapter, no one sentence even, from that book spoken aloud by someone that didn’t know what to do with it and the whole fabric of this dimension, and many others, would tear and scatter until it was no more.

That book was supposed to be suspended in a hell dimension and, you later found out, Willow had received it as a Birthday gift from an unnamed admirer.

“Y/n, we need to do this, now!” Buffy shouted over the noise. It was a lot worse than you had expected. Time was speeding up, lives were in danger and the whole thing seemed to be resting on you. You wavered, the others couldn’t see it over all the chaos. But he could. Your Spike. Your protector. He was the only thing that could ground you.

“Piss off, would you! You saw what happened to them last time” Spike stepped up to the Slayer menacingly, his leather duster whipping around him in the artificial wind. He cared about you, deeply, none of your friends could deny it. He was worried about you, doing so many spells for them he thought they took it for granted that you could just bounce back and be fine. He told them as much whilst simultaneously throwing a few punches at this invisible being that was trying to fight the room.

You were stood there, seemingly daydreaming as you stood still as the mayhem raged around you, just staring at the book.

“Y/n, the stakes are high, are you, ah, able to do this?” Giles asked, pausing from chanting as he realised that you were now using your own power to hold off the fire.

“We don’t use that word in our house, stakes that is. What with the whole burning at the stake bit” Spike cut in, throwing a punch and overbalancing when it didn’t connect with anything. He managed to style it out, rolling and landing back onto his feet.

“And the dusty vampire thing” You agreed distractedly, pressing your lips against his as he got up from the floor beside you.

“Yes, yes, well? Are you able to do it?” Giles was growing impatient with the man that was always so close by your side. Both Giles and you knew what you had to do. It was something that no other could do. If you didn’t do this, Buffy would never be able to get the upper hand. You may all perish in an instant.

“I can stop time, isolating it so that Buffy can still move will, uh, take a lot… But, luckily for you I am blessed with a lot of power” You insisted, feeling their resolves falter slightly. Buffy had never faced anything like this before. The Hellmouth opening was nothing compared to complete obliteration of dimensions.

The way your power works, you would be pushing against time whilst also pulling Buffy into the present with you. Shifting more than yourself was known to be near-impossible when stopping time. You had done it once before but it had taken a lot out of you.

Spike stayed stood by your side in all of this, only fending off anything that came towards you now. You nodded at him gently, he was always in awe of you, but more so every day.

It was a lot of pressure and the responsibility was crushing. But you persevered, Spike nodding by your side, giving his unending support without even having to say a word. You took a breath, closed your eyes and raised your arms, chanting rapidly.

You did it. When you opened your eyes time had stopped, your love frozen by your side. 

Buffy nodded at you, able to move as you held the very threads of time together. It was already taking a toll on your body. It was like you were hanging over the edge of the universe, grip so tight that your knuckles whitened, grimace on your face as you tried to stop everything from tipping into nothingness.

You stopped time long enough for Buffy to decloak the invisible force, the Slayer was already weakened from the earlier fight but managed to kill the demon that had emerged from the book. It bled profusely, spraying the floor with an orange goo.

“Don’t- not on the book!” You screamed, if any demon blood got on that book literally anything could happen. But none of it good.

With one final flourish, Buffy managed to slay the demon and take its weapon, a long staff that had been invisible until now that was needed to return Tara back to them.

While you were watching her, you were hurting, aching all over, you couldn’t hold it any longer. While Buffy finished, you had a spinning wheel of dimensions in your mind and you dropped the book into nearest Hell dimension, hoping it could hold it.

You dropped to the floor as the book disappeared, the wind stopped and everything went silent. Tara was back to herself after a ceremonial wave of the staff, now propped up in a corner by Willow as everyone else skidded towards them. A battered Buffy included.

“You okay?” Spike asked it quietly, as you got to your feet, not wanting to draw any unwanted attention from the group. You nodded once but he wasn’t convinced. He knew you inside out and he took your hand tenderly as he spoke.

“Yeah, I-” You started but the look he gave you told you that he knew. He could sense it. You weren’t doing okay.

“I, uh, I just need some air” You said, grappling with yourself to get out of the magic shop, your hand no longer clasping Spike’s. He was on your heels, throwing a glare behind him at your friends as he went.

The others called their thanks to you as you left, while Xander tended to Buffy’s battle wounds. Your friends all loved you but they didn’t understand certain things about you. You were known as being a little odd, you went missing for periods of time and you frequently shied away from praise or gratitude. But they were fond of you all the same.

You were overwhelmed. Drained and scared you hadn’t done the right thing. What if that book was summoned in another dimension and you could do nothing to stop it? What if you had killed thousands of others by only saving the dimension you lived in?What if it came back and a different chapter opened, one where you couldn’t fight it?

Once outside, the storm had started. The thunder cracked through the air as your heart hammered through your chest. Your chest writhed in pain, as if several hands were scratching at you from within, trying to claw their way out of you. You couldn’t take a full breath, your breathing quickly shallowed, as if something was wringing out your lungs.

It had been creeping up on you ever since you had started the spell, but it had just crashed on top of you like a ton of bricks. You slid down the wall you had been leaning against, clutching your heart and fighting for breath. You were panicking.

“You’re okay, love, ‘m right here with you” Spike knew immediately what it was, crouching down beside you the ghost of his touch hovering over your shoulder as it erratically rose and fell.

“I- I can’t-” You stammered, lightning violently cracking through the air as you spoke.

“You’re okay, love.” he soothed, taking big unneeded breaths of his own to give you something to focus on. You tried to speak but he shook your head, you needed to focus on your breathing, “Breathe, Y/n, that’s right.”

He continued to breathe with you, your fingers numbing and your chest feeling like it was caving in. You felt like you needed to reach inside and stop it somehow but you could summon no amount of power or magic to stop it. This made it worse, you couldn’t control it. You couldn’t stop it and the storm raged on, worse this time as the thunder came from within.

“You’re safe, I’ve got you. Not gonna let anythin’ nasty get you, just take your time” He knelt before you, so that he was all that you could see.

As you slowly managed to regulate your breathing, you stayed sat in the same position as before. Rain started to fall as your tears broke, rolling down your face as the rain pelted down from the sky. You reached for him and he held you, arms wrapping around you as raindrops rolled down his cheeks.

You both stayed, crouched on the floor with the rain hammering down and soaking you both as he pressed the most tender kisses. First against your forehead, then your temple and finally a gentle peck against your lips.

Eventually, Spike moved, only to remove his leather duster to drape it around your shoulders. You hadn’t brought a jacket despite his insistence back in your shared crypt. He didn’t feel the weather and even if he did he would have done the same. Just as he knew you would for him.  

“Sorry about…”

“Don’t you ever apologise. You’re the strongest person I’ve ever met, you got nothin’ to be sorry for. I meant it, I always mean it. I’m here for every part of you” The look in his eyes told you that he meant every word. There was no reason for you to ever feel embarrassed, especially not around him. You would never be a burden, nor an inconvenience.

“Thanks” you murmured, but the look he gave you told you that him being here for you was not something he needed to be thanked for, he loved you after all. He was by your side always.

“Let’s get you home, love, catch your death out here” he joked, a watery smile on your face as you pulled his jacket around you. He encouraged you to lean against him as you walked, his arm firmly around your shoulders, the weather clearing if only slightly as you went.

#spike x reader #spike x you #spike btvs #spike btvs x reader #spike imagine #spike btvs imagine #btvs #btvs x you #btvs imagine #btvs x reader #Buffy The Vampire Slayer #buffy the vampire slayer imagine #witch reader #gender neutral #gn #magic

[colourstreakgryffin]

Can you do normal hantengu x female reader comforting him through a panic attack (sorry if you said you don’t do him)

Haha! No, I’ll do Hantengu! I’ve done nearly all of his clones already so why not him!

Hantengu- Embrace Me and Kiss Me

Hantengu sobbed, laying his bubbly-head unceremoniously on your lap as his clawed skeletal fingers graze his face slightly. He was crying hysterically after experiencing such a scary panic attack and he needed his lovely sweet princess to make him feel safer and more at ease

You smiled gently, stroking his frail head skin as he continued to cry into his hands. He did feel much better with you, his lovely girlfriend but the tight squeeze deep in his chest and the constant shivering of his poor helpless body had not yet to fade

Hantengu had disturbed your deep meditative state in a breathless choke and sharp clinging on your arm for help, he was so worried about his newest mission and the fact you can’t be there. Sure, he was confident he’d be completely fine but the idea of coming across a Hashira or two just scared him

You gently sighed to get your slight annoyance out as you wrapped your hands around the curves of his humped shoulders to lift him up. Hantengu sobbed with the action, his pupilless eyes locked into yours as tears drip down his puffy cheeks

He helped you in keeping himself propped up as you pressed a soft kiss on his prominent nose. Hantengu whimpered joyful at your petite affection and his hands drew up to circle around your waist

“Breathe slowly, carefully and gently, love” You coo out in the most soft voice you could manage, brushing back his thin black waves with fingertips as Hantengu mumbled nonsensically in a few seconds flat, nodding quickly to better show to you that he is listening entirely

You tilted your head to the side to let Hantengu bury his face in the curve of your neck. His pointy curved horns and big bulby forehead bubble made the cuddle a bit struggle but you truly didn’t mind. He needed you to calm him down before he ventures out, with Gyokko, to the Swordsmith Village

He needs the emotional strength to carry on without you being there to cradle and comfort him since you’re not strong enough to be classified as a Upper Moon, unlike him. It hurt his heart severely that you couldn’t join him in this grand important mission but the more reasonable side of him told him that it’ll save you from slayers if you don’t come along

Reluctantly, Hantengu had to go along with it but he knew he’d be aching for your touch, the entire time. Maybe he could send a clone to guard you? No, he may need all his clones for this mission. Hantengu thought about everything, stemming around you and your saddening lack of participation in his upcoming duty, all at once

It overwhelmed him a little bit as his skinny arms grip you tighter, wishing he could never let go and fade away into the air itself with you. No responsibilities, no Muzan breathing down your neck, no demon slayers… just you and him together forever in a empty useless void

Sure, nothing else could be done but Hantengu thrives for that idea and does he have his six clones to keep you accompany, if elsewise. Those minutes of comfortable silence stretched on as you felt the tight grip on your flesh loosen, his pattern of breathing matching the way you described him to try

Hantengu was calming down, and calming down quite fast. Usually, he’d be crying and hiding in the nearby futon until his eyes were sore and he needed to stop. But here. He can feel at peace, his eyes aren’t as raw and irritated like they usually would be and his heart is returning to a normal pace

You always calm him down from his worse panic attacks and it just shocks him over and over, everytime. He has the worst anxiety ever known to demonkind and you can quell it. Is it your secret Demon Blood Art to make anybody tranquil?

Hantengu doesn’t know how you do it nor how you fell in love with him from the start. But he knows, he needs you to be apart of him, for the rest of his life now

#kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer #anime and manga #kny imagines #short story #kny upper moons #hantengu #kny hantengu #demon slayer hantengu #kimetsu hantengu #kimetsu no yaiba hantengu #hantengu x reader #kny short story #hantengu short story #romantic short story #fluff imagines #kny fluff #demon slayer fluff #panic attack comfort #kny comfort #hantengu clones #Hantengu is weirdly wholesome #it’s kinda scary #but at the same time #Hantengu is very sweet

[neofeliis]

You Cannot Have Her

Astarion/Tiefling!Tav

Notes: Durge Spoilers. Remember when we straight up stop living in front of Astarion and the game thought "how twee" was an appropriate way to react? Yeah. I needed to fix that. Enjoy.

-----

This wasn’t his place to step in. Like she had given him the grace, the push, to face Cazador now was the time for her to face her abomination of a father. Which thus far, she had been doing beautifully. All despite his own anxiety on the matter, watching her face off with Orin brought a swelling of pride in his chest. He knew she could do it, he had seen her do far more wondrous things. What was one more bloodthirsty monster amongst all the rest?

That wasn’t to say his stomach didn’t lurch with nausea every time the Slayer landed a hit. All the logic in the world, all the knowing she had this, was not enough to stave off the fear. And maybe it was just the aura of murder that surrounded them, but he was clenching his fists so tight he felt himself draw blood. The blade hilt in his right hand shook, clattering quietly at his side. Duel be damned, if she downed, he was going in for her.

Astarion would tear down the world for the tiefling thrice over if he needed to. He had been prepared to do it if it ever came down to it; he had decided that sometime along their way.

What Astarion had not been prepared for, in the wake of his swelling pride at her rebuking Bhaal, was for the god to be spiteful. Wasn’t that just the cruelest joke of all? For his bitterness to have been so thoroughly rewritten by her hope for the future, that he would forget the most fundamental truth of all. A truth he had buried deep in his heart.

The gods were nothing but spiteful, and would never take scorn in stride. How ironic, how cruel that the gods would choose now to answer. To intervene. To show their faces. All those years screaming into the void and this was the one that answered a call.

“You refuse me?”

He should have known, gods damnit he should have listened to the chill that crept up the back of his neck. The unholy terror that something was wrong. Everything slowed around him, the edges of his vision blurred and darkened, seeing only Tav and the animated corpse that spoke to her.

“Accept your inheritance, or I will reclaim it.”

Astarion opened his mouth to speak a warning at her back. Where she stood so tall, so confident, but he knew her so thoroughly by now. He saw how she twirled the ring on her finger, so subtly at her side. Her biggest tell that fear gnawed at her heart. Of course she was afraid. Standing before the god of murder? Refusing him?

But she was not afraid enough for what he felt coming. Something he couldn’t articulate as words failed him. His throat dry, his mind so chaotic he couldn’t find purchase on a full sentence if he tried. Something is wrong, something is wrong!

Reclaim it? Reclaim what? She was Bhaalspawn, everything that she physically was, was his. It was by his design, his will, that she existed at all. He made her to be an abomination, a feral creature devoted to bloodshed, and she had spent the greater part of their adventure resisting every bit of that fate. The most wondrous creature he had ever known in his days, lived and breathed by the grace of the murder god.

The realization hit him so hard he saw stars, and a wave of vertigo made the room tilt.

Despite his panic, Tav stood firm. There was a split second, where she seemed as though she might look back to her companions, to say something, but she stopped herself.

She refused Bhaal, and her birthright, a second time.

“You reject my blood, and so I will reclaim it.”

That’s when they all felt it. A shift in the cold, damp air. Heaviness dropped like a hammer as the tiefling doubled over, clutching at her chest, mouth open in a choked cry that died on her lips. In a final act of desperation, she hurled a glance over her shoulder at her companions, wild eyes flitting between each of them before finally landing on Astarion’s panicked face. The look in her eyes, the fearful resignation there shot Astarion through like an icy spear.

She knew. She knew this was a possibility. Tav knew the God of Murder would be cruel enough to take back his power, but if it was to keep the world–keep him–safe from her Urge, she refuted him anyway.

A bloody aura surrounded her, dripped from her in sinister rivulets, moving as a living thing that crawled out of the crevices of her armor. It dripped from her fingertips, it ran over her cheeks, it coursed down her neck. Every bit of it that hit the cold stones raced back to the growing pool in which Bhaal himself called to it.

Everything in Astarion raged, raged against any possibility in which she would suffer like this. But his body felt unnaturally heavy as he lurched forward, trudging against an invisible mire to reach her. “Fight, this!” Speaking was a labor, even, his throat burning at the effort. His hands hit an invisible barrier that met him and thrust him backwards hard enough that he almost lost his footing. She was cut off from him, as her body lifted off the ground and arched backwards limply, the warmth fading from her face, he couldn’t reach her. The fucking bastard had cut him off from her such that none should interfere with the inevitable. Because who the hell was Astarion to a god?

The familiar feeling of inferiority caressed his mind like an old friend. Astarion was powerless, and in his desperation, he turned a pleading, disgustingly pitiful look to their other two companions. The man couldn’t know what he looked like in that moment, but if the desolate look on their faces was any indication, it wasn’t his finest.

They could do nothing, and the other two had seemed to acknowledge that much sooner than Astarion, accepting it even. No, useless! He grit his teeth and let out a feral snarl that he had not known in what felt like an age, and turned back to the scene before them. He would try once more to reach her, to the same result as before, but somewhere he found the strength to hold himself against the barrier now that he knew it was there. A pained scream, bereft of all restraint, tore from him now. Now he found his voice? What good was it now?

She still hung suspended, hung there for a near eternity, until the blood finally stopped and her eyes glazed over. The last drop against the slick stones, and then a beat of silence. The air stilled as an unnatural quiet fell over Bhaal’s temple, and the barrier flitted out of existence at the same moment that her body dropped to the floor. Discarded.

Astarion tumbled forward and dropped gracelessly to his hands and knees in the blood. For a moment, the cooling liquid he suddenly found himself in held all his attention. Was he distracted? Or was he afraid to lift his gaze?

Afraid to look up, slowly, painfully, agonizingly to the lifeless body that laid just a few feet from him. Her chest was still, her face blank. Something brutally honest scratched at the back of his mind.

A broken sound fell from his lips and he crawled the rest of the way to her, pulling her limp form into his lap. They had fallen in battle before, this wasn’t the first time by any means. Their well-stocked spellcasters were always ready and available to turn it back. To keep death at bay.

So why, then, did Shadowheart look so ghostly pale? So lost?

“What in the hells are you waiting for? Use your spell! She’s going cold!” Astarion snapped, his red eyes blazing with a desperate fury.

The cleric flinched, and gave an imperceptible shake of her head. She looked like she was trying to wrap her own mind around something he could not see. Refused to see. “There’s…” she started, her voice cracking, “Astarion, there’s nothing there. There’s nothing to call back.”

Fear rattled through him so hard he felt it in his teeth. “What, do you mean, nothing?” He paused on every word, either trying to restrain himself from wringing her neck until she figured it out or just hold himself together at rapidly fraying seams.

“To revive someone, there has to be a soul to call to. I can’t, I can’t find it. I can’t even sense her anymore,” Shadowheart replied gravely.

Red filled his vision. “Then look harder!” he roared, his voice bouncing off the walls of the dead temple. “You bring her back, Shadowheart! You bring her back to me or this was all for nothing!” Pain cracked his otherwise terrifying visage, and though the cleric flinched at his outburst, she stood firm where she was. Stood there, as her own grief started to manifest on her face.

No, no! You do not get to mourn her, because she is not gone! His mind raged, and he looked everywhere around them, for any solution in this empty space. His gaze landed on the stone skull that had glowed with Bhaal’s presence. Where else was he to direct his fury? “You give her back, you abomination! She was never yours to take; give her back or I swear on my miserable life that I will dedicate everything in my power to making your existence hell! And you best believe I am a professional on the topic!”

Silence.

Try again. “I will hunt you down, I will raze your temples, I will ruin you! Two hundred years of misery I will rain down upon your head!” The malice, the power in his voice cracked. A choking sob betraying the facade he was haphazardly throwing together. Threatening a god? In his own temple? For her, absolutely. “You cannot have her!

His echo faded, drifting off into dark nothingness, and silence fell once more. Nothing but his ragged breaths and the quiet crying of their companions behind them. Emptiness pawed at the door of his heart, knowing the way home. Knowing where it belonged. Eager to make itself at home again as the body chilled in his arms.

Something shifted as another presence entered the space. Instinctively, Astarion whirled on his knees with a snarl, clutching her body to his chest and hunching himself over her.

“Thou hast defied Bhaal, thy liege and father, and in doing so hast earned a place among champions and heroes,” the creeping, ancient voice filled the temple, as none other than their ghostly companion, Withers, strode over to them, as though he had been there from the beginning. “But alas, thy courage was in opposition to the divine cosmology that bound thee to the Lord of Murder. Thou art now faithless, godless, and doomed to wander the Fugue Plane for eternity.”

Another snarl rumbled in Astarion’s chest, lacking the power it had before. “If you have come to just prattle on your cryptic, dusty monologues you will learn very quickly how much restraint I’ve shown to your presence thus far, ghoul.”

Withers ignored the seething vampire entirely. All of his attention was on the body that lolled in Astarion’s grip. He prowled around them in a wide circle, assessing he tiefling. “I will not permit that,” he started again, and the vampire tensed thinking that it was a response, “though all the powers of life and death dictate that it should be so.”

Astarion deflated then, his grip loosening ever so slightly. …What?

Withers stopped then, close, and raised his hand. “I, too, still hold some power, and I invest a portion of it in thee, who hath challenged the gods and now liveth to tell of it,” Something ancient and overwhelming crept into the room now, creeping along the stones like a morning fog. Cool and gentle. “Thy fight is not over, and it is thy fight, for one who can look upon Bhaal and oppose him can survive any crisis,” he clenched his hand into a fist and raised it as an old, powerful magic surrounded it. “So rise, Challenger of Gods, and prepare for battle once more. Death will not claim thee whilst I endure.”

Tav’s body lurched nearly out of Astarion’s hold, surrounded by the glow of Withers’ revival, arching backwards as the power coursed through her. Then, her eyes snapped open, and the most beautiful sound of a gasping breath echoed through Astarion, perhaps echoing through the entirety of Bhaal’s empty temple. The cold desolation in his chest melted all at once, and as she fought for air, his free hand cupped the side of her face and turned her wild eyes to his. “Breathe love, calmly, you’re alright. You’re safe,” he nearly whispered to her, his soul reaching for hers to soothe it into the quiet joy of being alive. It was comical, him trying to calm her when he himself was an absolute whiplashed wreck. But, she was alive.

She was alive.

He would repeat that to himself as many times as was necessary. A daily prayer, to the singular being in this terrible world he believed in.

Tav’s disoriented gaze found him at last, taking several slow blinks to clear away the delirium. “I was,” she croaked, feeling the world swim at just trying to articulate that much.

“Shh, you’re not, and that’s all that matters,” Astarion placed a shaky kiss into her damp hair, feeling her warmth returning to her. Everyone else around them, including the ghostly savior standing there looking like he likely had something important to say, all but disappeared. That could all wait. Here, now, this moment as long as he could greedily drink from it, she was with him. She was alive. “You won’t,” swallow, “leave me that easily.” The waver in his voice betrayed just how much he was afraid to believe that, how he didn’t just a few agonizing minutes ago. The possibility that he would have to live another thousand years knowing this was how it ended was enough to nearly cripple him.

As she curled a weak arm around his bowed neck, pulling as though she could somehow get closer, she seemed to answer his reeling thoughts. “I’m here. Don’t you dare let go.”

#bg3 #astarion/tav #astarion fic #one shot #astarion #listen this scene made me so angry i couldnt not rewrite it. have some angst. #astarion/durge

[chaosandbubbles]

Jason's Panic Attack // Jason Kolchek Oneshot

Jason Kolchek X Female Reader

A/N: Okay this one is still one of my favorite things that I have ever written and I am very proud too announce that I have added an embarrassing amount of smut to the end of this that wasn't there before, so, if anybody dares to read this, I hope that you enjoy it! Again, this is a repost and I used to post under yellowroseskolchek before I invaded her body and now we post here so anyways. Don't steal our stuff, she gets kinda cranky when that happens and it makes me gassy.

WARNINGS AND TAGS: NSFW MINORS DNI 18+ ONLY, panic attacks, seemingly unrequited love, reader and Jason are best friends, roommate!Eric, unhealthy sleep habits, graphic depictions of anxiety, canon-typical violence, jealous!Jason, oblivious!Jason, graphic depictions of PTSD, brotherly-vibes!Eric, self-deprecating!reader, depression, paramedic!Jason(and don't get me fucking started on how HOT that is?!), anti-Rachel this time I'm really sorry, no really she is awful, if you're a Rachel fan run away right now this is not the fic for you, mentions of a previously infected!reader, mentions of suicide and suicidal thoughts, guns, past flashbacks, Jason is sort of an idiot, self-sabotaging reader, oh yeah and swearing lol, defensive!Jason, men being idiots, mentions of divorce and cheating, love confessions, making out, hickeys, lingerie, breast sucking, fingering, orgasms, oral sex male receiving, blowjob, shower sex

Word Count: 12.4k yes i know sue me lol

Jason Masterlist, Main Masterlist

YOU were waking up in Jason’s bed, again.

And not in the fun way.

You groaned as you rolled over, off of Jason’s arm that was underneath your neck. You sat up, staring down at Jason—whose eyes were already looking up at you—and you returned his gaze with a soft smile on your face. He sat up, too, and you noticed that his eyes were bloodshot, like he hadn’t slept all night long.

He probably hadn’t; every time you ended up here in his bed, he stayed up all night to make sure you were alright. And it seemed to be happening more and more often these days—the nightmares, that is—and then you ended up taking the elevator up the five floors to the boy’s apartment, staring at their front door as you took a deep breath and gathered up the courage to dial Jason’s number.

Not like it was hard; you had it memorized, and even if you didn’t, he was your emergency contact. No, that wasn’t the hard part; the hard part was knowing that he’d answer midway through the very first ring, his voice sleepy but frantic as he made sure that you were alright. He’d ask if you were at the door, and if you needed to come in—even though he already knew that you were. The hard part was knowing that he did all of this—that he always let you in, that he always held you and made the nightmares go away, staying awake to keep watch over you all night long—yes, the hard part was watching him care for you whilst knowing with every fiber of your being that he would never love you.

Not in the way that you loved him. 

He’d been treating you like his little sister since you’d met him on your first day at base in Iraq—three years ago, now. You’d walked through the doors of Camp Slayer with nothing but an anxious look on your face and in your eyes; earning you the nickname that Jason still used to this day. Panic Attack.

“Hey, what’s the matter with you? You’re lookin’ a little jumpy darlin’,” he’d chuckled, leaning against the pillars once you’d entered the hall. He hadn’t been First Lieutenant, then—he’d earn that title a short three months later—and he walked over to you, cocking an eyebrow as he stared down at your anxiety-ridden face. “Y’alright there, princess? Ain’t ever been to war before?”

You snarled at that, your anxiety melting away as you turned your anger onto him. 

“Don’t call me princess,” you’d threatened, tilting your chin up defiantly, although your hands were still shaking. “And I’m plenty capable of doing anything that you can do.”

Jason had smiled brightly, his eyes gleaming at your words as he chuckled, shaking his head as he drew nearer to you. He shrugged, leaning his hand against the pillar right above your head as he leaned down over to you, nose-to-nose.

“Ain’t no doubt about that, Panic Attack,” he retorted, and although the nickname had made your blood boil at the time, it had quickly and pathetically become your favorite term of endearment. “Just makin’ note of how jumpy you are. You always like this?”

“No.” That had been a lie, and Jason had learned that rather quickly; anytime something new, noteworthy, or terrifying had come up, you panicked, becoming a blubbering mess of sweat, angst, and tears on the floor.

 Usually his floor, and so, ‘Panic Attack’ had stuck—but despite your enthralling woes of anxiety, even Jason couldn’t deny how badass you were in the throes of actual battle.

Jason’s little quips—his nicknames, his protectiveness over you, his way of seemingly always searching a room and finding you—had caught up to you, eventually. Everyone on base knew that you were his best friend, and that he was yours; but it had rapidly become more than that for you only a year after knowing him. And, in the two years that you’d been actively in love with him, he showed no signs that he felt anything for you beyond a friendship. Not even after what happened—a year ago. Down in those motherfucking caves…

You felt a shudder ripple through your body as you tore yourself out of past events and into the present where you were still safely sitting in Jason’s bed. At your visible discomfort, he sat up quickly too, eyes full of concern and quickly scanning over you for any injuries he may have missed before.

“Y/n? Y’alright there, darlin’?” You nodded, stretching out your arms above your head and noting the time on his alarm clock. 11:50 a.m.; you blanched.

“Shit—is that the time?” You screeched, rushing out of bed and bursting out of the bedroom, hurrying to the bathroom—where you kept a stash of your own personal shower stuff, which was okay with Jason but a nuisance to his roommate and your mutual friend, Eric. “Oh, fuck me! My shift starts in thirty minutes, fuck!” 

“Whoa there Panic Attack, calm down,” Jason assured, rushing after you and beating you to the bathroom, blocking the door so that you couldn’t get in. “You’re not gonna be late to work. I’ll go grab the clothes from your apartment and then I’ll drive you over, alright? Crisis averted.” He booped you on the nose with his finger as he smirked and you pouted, allowing him to wrap his arms around your tiny frame as he pulled you into a hug, rubbing your back and resting his chin on the top of your head. 

You closed your eyes as you rested your ear against his heart, listening to his heartbeat and allowing it to steady you with a sigh. “No, you’re not,” you argued, pulling out of his embrace and pinching him in the ribs where you knew that he was sensitive, successfully jolting him away from the bathroom door. “You are going to go back to sleep, because you didn’t get any last night—and don’t lie and tell me that you did, because your eyes are bloodshot right now, Jase.”

Jason’s mouth rapidly opened and then closed again as he realized that it was futile to argue with you, rolling his eyes and crossing his arms over his chest.

“I’m fine, Y/n,” he insisted, but as soon as the words slipped out of his mouth, he yawned. His face turned red in a beautiful spread of blush across his cheeks and you held in a dreamy sigh at the sight, feeling pathetic enough already. “Alright, so—maybe I’m just a little bit tired. But I can still—”

“Save your breath, Lieutenant,” Eric’s voice floated into the room, and soon enough, you saw his form walk in from behind Jason, his blonde hair messed in some severe bedhead and wearing nothing but flannel pajama pants loosely tied around his waist. The sight did nothing to you—you only had eyes for Jason—but you noticed that Eric’s presence seemed to set Jason on edge. You didn’t know why; since Eric and Jason had teamed up down in the caves, they’d become a strange sort of friends. You couldn’t think of a single reason that Jason would be upset with him. “I’ll drive Y/n to work. Go back to bed.”

“That won’t be necessary, Colonel,” Jason responded through gritted teeth and you rolled your eyes; partly because of Jason’s stubbornness, and partly because the two men still refused to call each other anything but their previous ranks. And you’d all been honorably discharged from the military, permanently, a year ago. “Y/n and I have a routine—”

“Yeah, yeah, but I’m her friend too,” Eric interrupted, crossing his arms over his chest. “And I can drive just as well as you can, Lieutenant. Better, probably, seeing as you got maybe one hour of sleep last night. Are you willing to risk Y/n’s life just because you want to drive her to work?”

“Fuckin’ dammit Colonel, I ain’t riskin’ her life—and can’t you put on a fuckin’ shirt or somethin’?!”

“Guys, shut up,” you interrupted, pressing two fingers to your temples and shaking your head. “You two are being ridiculous; Jason, Eric will drive me to work.”

“What? No—!”

  “You need to sleep, and I’ll come over straight after,” You continued speaking, shooting your favorite man a glare. “Okay? We can watch a movie tonight, and then I’ll go sleep in my own bed so you can not be a walking zombie at work. Alright?” 

Jason grumbled something that sounded like a forced agreement, but his second yawn interrupted whatever tirade he was about to go on. Pressing a small kiss to his cheek—not uncommon for the two of you, platonically—you beckoned him to his bed and then hurriedly hopped into the shower. 

You allowed the scorching hot water to heal your anxieties for far longer than you should have, considering the fact that you were already running late for work today. When you finally did get out of the shower, you took a minute to stare at your reflection in the mirror. 

The bags that always seemed to linger under your eyes were the first thing that you saw and, just like it always did, it made you wince; it had been a year ago yesterday since you’d all fallen down those fucking caves and you were still having nightmares every single night.

Most nights you could deal with it on your own; you would simply stay up, watch a happy movie and chow down on some popcorn and drink chamomile tea, trying to manifest a peaceful sleep back into your life (to no avail). Usually, those nights were the milder nightmares; the raid, falling down the caves for the first time, escaping Dar—the things that you’d felt hope in.

The nights that you couldn’t handle it yourself—the nights that had you outside of Jason’s apartment, begging to be let in—those were the heavy stuff. Jason, getting dragged down a hallway by a vampire; Jason, going after Salim and leaving you behind—Jason, pleading for your life once he’d found out you were infected by one of them, only mere hours after he’d ruthlessly shot Clarice—

That one. Fuck, that one always got to you the most and you always found yourself wondering why he’d done it. Why did he plead for your life? The two of you were close, yes, you had been each other’s right hands at this point but—why was he okay with taking the risk with you and not with Clarice? Why was he willing to risk not only his life, but the life of the team for you—and not for Clarice?

You’d never asked him because, frankly, you were terrified of the answer. You wondered if he regretted it at all; clearly you were here, and you were fine, but it was not without side effects. The nightmares, for one thing; and he dealt with that directly. Every time you ended up in his bed, in his arms, desperately seeking the comfort that only he could seem to bring you, he didn’t sleep. His sleep habits were as shitty as yours were now, and he was doing it all for you. Because he knew that you needed him.

But you knew that one day, he would meet somebody else who would need him. And he would love her, and he would choose her over you, because that’s what you’re supposed to do when you love somebody. And you would be left behind in the dust, never sleeping, holding yourself together through every nightmare and wishing that you were her.

Not because you needed Jason to face the nightmares, no; but because you loved him. Why wouldn’t you love him? There was literally nothing about him that you couldn’t love. Jason was loyal, he was kind, he was funny, he was sexy, he was caring, he was—everything. 

Fuck, he was your everything.

With a groan, you threw your towel bitterly at your reflection, noticing that Jason had wandered in at some point and hung your work clothes on the back of the door where you’d originally gotten your towel. Since you spent a decent amount of nights here, you had a designated towel and a place to hang your towel, and you never bothered to lock the door when you were in the shower. Neither boy really had much company—except for Eric’s new girlfriend, Shanae—and you knew that neither one of them would ever walk in on you intentionally. Eric had adopted you as a sister of sorts, and Jason—well, you knew where you stood with him. 

You hurriedly got dressed in your black shirt and black dress pants, your bright orange apron with the company’s logo stretched across it coming next. You put your hair back in your favorite way to look cute and keep it out of your face, throwing on a tiny bit of mascara and lip gloss that you’d kept stashed in the boy’s bathroom for exactly this occasion.

You cracked open the door to the bathroom to find Eric fully dressed, sitting on the couch and waiting for you with a book in his hands. When he saw you, he smiled, closing his book and walking over to ruffle your hair.

“Hey!” You protested, pulling away with a pout and shoving him away. “I just did that, you asshole!” Eric chuckled lightly, tossing a look towards Jason’s bedroom door, which was left open. The man himself was passed out haphazardly across his bed over the tossed covers, his eyes shut tight and mouth open as he slept. You smiled at the sight, wishing you could crawl back into bed and hold him while he slept—knowing that you couldn’t now, and that you probably couldn’t ever. 

You swallowed a gulp, following Eric out of the building and to his car with just the slightest twinge of sadness, a feeling that you knew all too well. You felt it every time you left Jason’s bed, and every time, you promised that you’d stop doing this to yourself. Stop putting yourself in this situation, stop allowing yourself to be hurt over and over with your own motherfucking idiocy.

“So,” Eric’s voice cut through your thoughts, holding the passenger door open for you and helping you in. When he rounded to the other side of the car, he continued his thought. “The silence here is very telling, Private.”

“Oh my g—just call me by my name already Eric,” you groaned, laying your head on the window and shutting your eyes against your impending headache. “I haven’t been a Marine in a year, and you haven’t been in the Air Force either. Don’t you think it’s about time to let it go?”

“Maybe,” Eric replied with a nonchalant air to his words, and you were certain that if you were looking at him he would have shrugged. “Y/n, I like to think we have a close relationship, so I’m just going to get straight to the point. You need to tell Jason how you feel about him.”

Your heart stopped—your head was spinning, and you suddenly felt like throwing up. Your eyes opened just as quickly as they’d been shut and you whipped your head over to Eric, whose face was conflictingly blank in opposition with his words. 

“How did you—I mean I—I don’t—”

“Y/n, this conversation will be a whole lot easier if you don’t deny that you’re in love with him,” Eric interrupted, turning over to you quickly and quirking an eyebrow. You opened your mouth to protest again, before realizing that it was useless. He could see right through you—as you assumed most everyone could.

“I can’t tell him,” you said instead, pulling your eyes away from Eric and out of your window instead, watching the cars on the freeway zipping by. “He doesn’t—he doesn’t feel the same way. And besides, what’s wrong with the way that things are now, anyway? Why do I have to tell him? We’re both happy with the way that things are.”

Eric was sullen and quiet, not unusually for him, and finally, after several minutes, he sighed heavily.

“I can’t tell you what Jason feels,” Eric spoke, his words sounding clear and calculated. “I don’t know exactly where he stands, Y/n. But I do know that what he feels for you is something deeper than a simple friendship, and I think you know it, too. Who does all that he does for someone that they only see as a friend?”

“But—”

 “Either way, even if he doesn’t feel the same way about you, you need to know, Y/n,” Eric continued, shooting you a sharp glare, as if you’d just interrupted someone with a higher rank than you—like you were both back in the military. “I just think that if you keep on going like this, you’re only going to get your heart broken. Wouldn’t you rather know and not continue to waste your time if he doesn’t love you back?”

“No,” you answered immediately, clicking your seatbelt and watching the strap snap away in front of you as it came undone, staring at the coffee shop in front of you. The same damn place you hadn’t seemed to be able to break away from for a year. “No, I wouldn’t rather ‘quit wasting my time’, Eric; I’d rather have Jason in any way that I can. Even if it’s just as a friend. Even if it actually fucking kills me.”

“Y/n,” Eric demanded, grabbing your hand, his brown eyes wide and incredulous. “You’re scaring me; between this self-destructive behavior with Jason, and your nightmares, and you’ve been losing weight—I’m worried about you; we’re all worried about you. Me, Shanae, I even talked to fucking Nick and you know how much I hate that pri—”

“Well you know what?” You snapped, retracting your hand harshly out of his grip. “All of you should just stop worrying, okay? I have everything under control. I may be younger than you, Eric, but I am still an adult, alright? I can control myself, and I know what I’m doing—okay? So just—just—just stop!”

You exited the car without another word, slamming the door behind you and wiping tears away from your eyes as you hurried into the coffee shop.

Fuck this day.

🌒

The day went by so slowly that time felt like it was literally dragging you behind it. You couldn’t stop thinking about your conversation with Eric, or the way that Jason had looked this morning when you left; exhausted. Utterly, and completely exhausted. And you couldn’t help but think: maybe he wasn’t just exhausted from lack of sleep, but maybe he was truly getting tired of you needing him all the time. Maybe Jason was finally hitting his limit.

You put on a brave face and a smile whilst at work, but inside you were crying out for help. You knew that Eric was right; you hadn’t been taking proper care of yourself, and you were dragging Jason down with you.

You knew that Jason didn’t have work today—he worked as a paramedic, and you didn’t want to talk about how fucking hot that was—and you found yourself absentmindedly wondering what he’d be doing instead. Would he go to your favorite bar? Would he meet a girl there? And, more importantly, had he met a girl there before?

You groaned again, hanging your apron up behind the counter so you didn’t accidentally take it home again. You hurried out of the shop after you’d clocked out, unwinding your hair from its tie and letting it run free. Your eyes brightened when you saw Jason’s large, white pickup truck sitting in the parking lot, the man himself leaning against the back of his seat and listening to something country and way too loud. 

You grinned, thankful that he’d come to pick you up instead of Eric, and hurried over to the passenger-side door, throwing it open and throwing yourself inside. Jason jumped, obviously not having seen you exit the building, but he smiled widely when he caught sight of you.

“Hey,” Jason greeted, reaching out to gently stroke a strand of hair and causing a murmur in your fucking heartbeat. “How was your day darlin’? Not too busy?”

“Pretty standard,” you sighed, smiling fondly at Jason’s soft face when he looked away to pull out of the parking lot. You found yourself staring at him and not out of the window like you had this morning with Eric, and you swallowed down a dreamy sigh at just how perfectly beautiful the man was. “How was yours? Did you get some rest?”

Jason rolled his eyes. “Yes, I did, but you know that I wouldn’t have minded drivin’ you to work, right? I never mind, Y/n. Gives me some extra time with you.”

His words made you flush, and a shiver ran down your spine; you often wondered how Jason could say things like this and not feel anything for you other than a basic friendship. You wondered if he knew what he was doing to you, or if he was, hopefully, more oblivious than the rest of your friends. 

“You needed the rest,” you insisted, licking your thumb and wiping a stray coffee stain off of his chin. He flushed, but he let you do it, not even stiffening at the touch of your hand. “Eric driving me just once didn’t hurt anything, Jason. Besides, he’s my friend too.”

“Yeah, but it’s different,” Jason argued, his chin hardset and defiant. You raised an eyebrow, a little scoff leaving your mouth at the man’s stubbornness—which, you had to admit, was very in character for him. 

“How is it different, Jason?” You responded, arms crossed over your chest as you demanded an answer. “Because I haven’t known him as long? That doesn’t mean anything, Jason.”

“The hell it doesn’t!” Jason pushed, eyes wide and incredulous as he looked back at you for just a split second before turning his attention back to the road. “Besides, it ain’t just that, Y/n. You spend more time with me, we’re…better friends.”

“Jason, he drove me to work,” you chuckled, unsure of why Jason was so jealous of Eric driving you to work, once. “It’s not like we did movie night without you, or went to our favorite bar or something. You know I only do those things with you.” And you know I’d continue to only want to do those things with you, too. Because I fucking love you, you dipshit.

“But you chose him to drive you to work, over me.” 

You rolled your eyes; for somebody who didn’t feel anything for you, he certainly got insanely jealous and protective over you to the point that you wondered if you were the oblivious one. 

“Jason—trust me when I say I would have preferred you to drive me to work, okay? I chose Eric because you spent the entire night watching over me instead of sleeping,” you explained, working your way out of your seatbelt and worming your arm through his, resting your head on his shoulder. “You’re still my favorite person in the whole world, rest assured.” 

You took a peek up at Jason’s face, noticing a small smile was pulling at the corner of his lips. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes once more, extending your legs and resting them on his lap as he parked in his favorite parking spot in your complex. Jason shut off his truck and turned to you, chuckling when you unbuckled his belt for him and cuddled you into his side, the two of you delaying the walk upstairs by staying in the truck for a beat too long.

“Did he at least put on a fuckin’ shirt when he drove you?” Jason asked and you laughed out loud, shaking your head in incredulity.

“Obviously, Jason, rest assured Eric was wearing a shirt when he went out in public.” Jason didn’t respond, and you felt your eyes fluttering shut as he stroked your ribs with his fingers absentmindedly, your head under his and you struggling with the urge to reach up and kiss him. 

“Nick’s comin’ into town tomorrow,” Jason informed you, and you perked up, lifting your head to look at his face. 

“Really?!” You asked excitedly. “Kay’s coming to visit? Why the fuck didn’t he tell me?” Jason avoided your gaze and you frowned; something was going on here.

“Rachel’s comin’, too,” Jason announced and your heart fell in disappointment. You’d known that Nick and Rachel had started dating again, but you never realized that he would want to bring her here. Not with you and Eric both living here. 

Suddenly, and without your consent, your brain was assaulted with nightmares—memories, actually, and you felt the sudden urge to throw up the nothing that you’d eaten today.

“...What happened? A sickness? A madness?”

It had certainly felt like you were sick—that you were going mad, as well. Your head was ringing, and it burned, like somebody was burning your brain from the inside out. You felt nauseous like you’d never felt before—like there was something moving inside of you that you needed to get out, desperately. Like, suddenly, you were no longer in control.

Salim was still speaking, you thought, but you could no longer hear words—just the hum of his voice turning into a strange, twisted melody inside of your head. The realization had dawned on you at that moment, you remember, what was happening to you. You’d been bitten during the assault, but you didn’t think anything of it. Now, though, you knew better, and you were anxiously watching the white phosphorus that was on the table. 

“They waited for us.”

You couldn’t take it anymore; the pain, the feeling of something moving around and invading your body, the fucking burning. You felt a scream rip through your throat and you had fallen to your knees, your hands clutching the white phosphorus that you hadn’t even realized you’d grabbed. 

“Shit!” You heard Nick exclaim, and Jason rushed towards you—only to be held back by Eric.

“Don’t,” he commanded, and you remember his face, a deathly, pale white. “She’s holding…she has…” 

He couldn’t even finish his sentence but you saw Jason’s face pale and you knew that he’d seen the phosphorus then. You knew that he knew what was going to happen; you were going to kill yourself, to save them. To save him. You were going to lose each other to this. 

You were hyperventilating, you thought, and you could hear Jason desperately calling out your name, sounding terrified and despairing. Nick, who had been your friend for some time now, too, knelt in front of you cautiously, likely knowing that Jason was too hysterical to be trusted.

“Y/n, look at me,” Nick prompted and you did, your eyes teary, wide, and frenzied. You were writhing, your hands clutching at your head and you heard your pathetic shrieks and moans as you felt it moving inside of you, eating you from the inside out. 

Jason had broken free of Eric’s grip and pushed Nick aside, careful not to get too close on the off chance that he accidentally set off the phosphorus. His face was terrified and hysterical, and his eyes pleaded with you to keep looking at him—so you did.

Even back then, you loved him. No one else had quite the pull on you that he did.

“Y/n, please listen to me,” Jason begged, his Southern voice deep and desperate. “Please don’t do this, I—I know you’re scared, but I’m gonna get us out of this, I fuckin’ promise you, okay? Please, I know it seems impossible right now, but just—”

“Jason,” Nick interrupted, as soon as he’d realized that Jason didn’t know. He hadn’t figured out what was going on yet. “Jason, listen—”

“She has it,” Salim interrupted, and you remembered how he’d looked down at you with such horror in his face, and pity in his eyes. “It’s inside her.”

“What?” Jason questioned, shaking his head wildly. “No, what the fuck are you—”

“She’s fucking infected, Kolchek!” Rachel had hissed at him, grabbing him by the shoulder and shoving him away from you. “One of those things bit her, and now she’s turning into one of them; just like Clarice!” 

You watched as Jason’s eyes widened and his normally tan face turned a sickly pale, his eyes never once leaving yours. If you thought about it hard enough, you could imagine that he was thinking of poor Clarice—of what had happened to her, just hours before—and how he’d shot her mercilessly without a second thought. Because he couldn’t take the chance; he needed to save everybody else, and she had become a liability. An unknown. And we couldn’t have that.

Looking into his eyes, you knew he’d do the same to you now.

You knew he had to.

And that’s when the vision started.

A burning spaceship, with the head of a monster, heading straight towards Earth as it burned slowly. Aliens; they’d come from another world. 

You didn’t even spare another thought or breath on that as you settled the phosphorus between your knees, tears streaming down your face, and brandished your pocket knife. You didn’t have a choice; you couldn’t let Jason kill you. You couldn’t bear to let him live with that trauma. 

You had to do this yourself. 

“I’m sorry,” you sobbed, looking straight at Jason—who was trying to rush you, but being held back by Salim and Eric, not without a fight. 

You wanted to tell him you loved him then, but you didn’t; you knew that would only be cruel to him. Instead, you tore your eyes away from his face and stared down at the phosphorus, the knife in hand, ready to blow yourself up.

But you didn’t; you couldn’t. Your hand just wouldn’t fucking move, despite what your brain was telling it to do. 

Your knife clattered to the floor and you sobbed, breathing in and out as you attempted to steady yourself. Jason was released and he hastily ran and picked up your knife, pocketing it and taking the phosphorus from your hands in the event that you tried that again.

You wanted to reach out and touch him—a hug, a brush of the hand, anything—but it was at that moment that the burning started up again. You doubled over and wailed, Jason right by your side as he pushed your hair back from your face and held you, tears streaming down his own face, his own breath coming in pants as he panicked. 

You were likely going to die—you knew that—so you turned to Jason as Nick held up your other side, both men frantic. 

“They came from the stars,” you spoke, staring straight into Jason’s frightened eyes, hoping that he was listening to every word that you were saying. “This isn’t their home; it’s an ark.” 

You suddenly began to buck viciously, and you weren’t sure if it was you or the thing inside of you controlling your body. All you knew was that it hurt, and you needed to go. You just needed to go. 

“Do something!” Nick turned and looked at Jason, the dubbed leader of the group. “She’s turning into one of them!”

“Hold on, baby girl, you have to hold on!” Jason pleaded, his deep voice husky and maniacal. “Please, Y/n—hold on for me. Hold on for me!”

“It’s…killing…me,” you managed to croak out, attempting to inform Jason of the severity of the situation. They had to act now, and they had to act fast—because if they didn’t, you were going to be one of them and put them all in danger.

You should’ve used phosphorus.

“Jason, put her out of her fucking misery!” Rachel screamed at him, trying to pull him away from you but he wouldn’t budge, his teeth gritted and tears streaming down his face. “Fuck, Kolchek; I’ll do it!” 

“We can still save her!” Nick insisted, and Jason whipped around towards Rachel, his body taking a protective stance over you. 

“There’s got to be a way,” Jason growled at her, his arms grasping you and putting himself in front of Rachel’s gun. “I can’t lose her!” 

His voice had sounded so terrified, so distraught—and you wondered why he hadn’t reacted this way with Clarice. Why was he so okay with letting you live—when he’d been so adamant that Clarice needed to die?

“You should know better than anyone that there is no other way, Kolchek,” Rachel barked back angrily. She moved her gun, past Jason, aiming it right towards your head. “Nick, hold her down.”

“No!” Jason argued, throwing himself back in between you and the barrel of the gun. “No, there ain’t no way we’re shootin’ her!” 

“‘It’s time to think like a Marine, Jason!’” Rachel snarled back at him, her voice unusually tight and shrill. “You need to take your emotions out of it—isn’t that what you said to me about Clarice?! When you fucking shot her?!!” 

“Fuck you, this is different!” Jason’s voice was high, tight, and emotional. All of a sudden, you felt purpose. Hope. You weren’t sure if it was the way that Jason was so protective of you, or that the prospect of losing you made him so emotional, but suddenly, you wanted to live. You didn’t want to die—not like this. Not today. 

“Rachel,” you managed to croak out, and the vision behind your eyes was beginning to get blurry. “Don’t…do it. Please; don’t kill me…please.”

Rachel’s eyes wavered over to you for a second—just the splittest of seconds—but you could see the indecision behind her eyes. 

“I have to,” she insisted, but her voice was cracking under her emotions. “You know that I have to.”

“It’s me, Rachel,” You continued to plead, pushing up past Jason and staring into her amber eyes, pleading for your life. “Please…put down the gun.”

It was at that moment that Jason hopped up, not as certain about Rachel’s humanity as you were, and knocked the gun out of her hands. He pushed her back, holding the gun to her instead, as he ordered her aside.

“Step aside,” he commanded, and she did, shaking her head incredulously. “Step the fuck aside and get the hell away from her!”

“You’re insane,” Rachel told him with a hiss. “She’s going to kill us all, and you’re going to regret this.”

“Salim, watch Rachel,” Jason ordered, and the man did, standing between her and you as Jason turned back to you, hope, caring, and compassion in his teary eyes. “Y/n, sweetheart, I’m gonna find a way to save you. Alright?”

“Why?” You’d questioned, wrapping your arms around Jason’s neck as you held on tightly to the man who had become your literal lifeline. “Jason, why—why me?” There were so many other words that you wanted to say, so many more things, but your mouth couldn’t formulate the things that your mind was currently running in the background. 

Jason’s Adam's apple had bobbed as he stared down into your eyes, his own eyes full of—emotion, of some sort, although you were having a hard time making it out. He pressed a hard, clinging kiss to your forehead and as he pulled away, he said, “Because we’ve got to have hope.”

For some reason, you had the feeling that he’d wanted to say something else. 

He’d tried to carry you to the cocoons that Salim had suggested, but you didn’t get far enough; you writhed out of his arms, and Eric had suddenly remembered the UV light—you still remembered how awfully intense the heat had felt held up to your body—and he burned you, until the parasite exited through your mouth and you were cured. 

This fact had been confirmed by supernatural health professionals after you’d all made it out of the caves; you were not infected anymore, and nothing was wrong with you. 

What Eric had done had worked, and Jason and Nick were right. You could be saved, after all.

Rachel had never gotten over the fact that you had survived while Clarice did not; and you hadn’t really gotten over her nearly killing you down in those caves. When it was all said and done, she’d left Eric and reconnected with Nick, the two of them beginning an official relationship. Suffice to say, Eric wasn’t exactly her biggest fan either.

“Y/n?” Jason’s voice cut through your thoughts, destroying the memory that haunted your dreams. “Y’alright in there? Where’d you go?” 

“Sorry,” you rushed out, shaking your head and steadying your breathing. “Um, Rachel’s coming? Well, just tell Nick that if he wants to see me, that maybe we should do it—”

“Actually, they’re comin’ to go to dinner tomorrow night with Eric and Shanae,” Jason interrupted, and it was clear that whatever he wanted to say, that he wanted to get it over with. He never cut you off when you were talking. “And Eric wants me to go to be a sort of a buffer between the two couples and—fuck, Y/n, I know that this is sort of a hard ask, but—will you come with me? I can’t fuckin’ stand the thought of bein’ a fuckin’ fifth wheel between those three idiots.”

You perked up at the question; did you really want to go have dinner with Rachel of all people? And did you really want to help be the buffer between two bitterly divorced people, a new girlfriend, and the man that Rachel had had an affair with? No, not really, but you also couldn’t let go of the fact that Jason was essentially asking you to be his date for the night. 

Emboldened by some newfound courage, you cleared your throat and asked, “Like, um—like as your date?” You looked up at his face and saw the shock that registered there, immediately feeling the anxiety flood your system as you realized that you’d completely misinterpreted the situation. 

“What?!” Jason questioned, and you could hear the confusion in his voice. When he scoffed like what you’d said was ridiculous, your heart broke again. “No, Y/n that’s—no. We’re just friends, we’d just be going as—friends. It ain’t anythin’ else, Y/n, why would you think that?”

“No—no reason.” Fuck, you could hear the tears getting choked up in your throat. “You know, Jase? I’m actually not feeling so well, so I think I’m going to head on to bed. Can we do movie night on a different night?” Jason opened his mouth to answer, but you didn’t give him the opportunity. “I’ll see you tomorrow night. Text me the address and I’ll meet you there, okay?”

“That’s ridiculous Y/n, I can drive you—” 

“No, don’t worry about it, I’ll meet you there,” you insisted sternly. Pulling yourself away from his hold, you hopped out of the truck and hurried upstairs, praying to every God you could think of that he hadn’t seen the tears streaming down your face when you’d left. 

You couldn’t believe yourself; why had you fucking said that?! How stupid were you? Of course, it wasn’t a date—Jason didn’t think of you that way.

It would never be a date.

🌒

JASON had no idea what the fuck he had done to piss you off last night, but here he was the next morning, trying to puzzle it over. He was no idiot, but he really couldn’t figure this one out; you’d seemed to get jumpy after he’d mentioned Rachel, but you’d left once he’d reassured you that this wasn’t a date.

Had you wanted it to be a date? No, that was almost laughable; you didn’t think of him that way. You’d never been into him that way, and it wasn’t a line that the two of you ever even thought about crossing. Still, you’d never made a comment like that before, and he’d wondered just what he’d done to make you worried that he was hitting on you. He never wanted to make you feel uncomfortable by forcin’ you into somethin’ more, but clearly, he had come across that way.

Fuck.

His only hope was that you’d stormed off because of the mention of Rachel, but he knew deep down inside that it couldn’t have been that—so, here he was, hoping and wonderin’ if you would still show up tonight—if you were gonna feel awkward around him, thinkin’ that he wanted to be more than friends with you. 

And he didn’t want anything more; at least, he thought he didn’t. He genuinely liked where your relationship was at now, he loved having you as his best and closest friend! Even if sometimes, he maybe got the urge to kiss you when you were bein’ cute and you didn’t even know it. Or if he’d almost told you on more than one occasion how fuckin’ beautiful you were—or, if he sometimes wanted to throw you onto his damn bed and show you just how well he could really treat you if you just gave him the fucking chance—

Fuck, no, he reminded himself, shaking his head and pulling on his dressier clothes for the night. That wasn’t a line that the two of you ever crossed, and he wasn’t about to start thinkin’ about it tonight. He valued you; he valued your friendship, and he wasn’t about to throw that away just ‘cause he sometimes wondered how it would feel to have sex with you. Just ‘cause sometimes, he wanted to. 

Jason reached for his phone to call you, confirm that you really didn’t want him to drive you over with him, but you didn’t answer. After a string of curse words, he just pocketed the damn thing with a sigh, headin’ to his truck alone with his own anxieties. 

It took less than ten minutes to get to the restaurant, and he found Eric and Shanae waiting outside for him, both of them looking too visibly tense to go in by themselves. Jason rolled his eyes and waved at them, trying not to laugh at their collective sighs of relief when they saw him approaching. 

“Hey guys,” Jason greeted, clapping Eric on the shoulder and giving Shanae a small side hug. “Y’all seen Y/n yet tonight?” 

Eric and Shanae shared a look of confusion that made Jason’s heart drop into his stomach; had she said something to them? Was she no longer comin’?

“We assumed she’d be riding with you,” was the only thing that Eric said in reply and Jason frowned, shaking his head.

“No, she—she said she wanted to drive herself tonight,” Jason reiterated, still feeling the same stab of hurt that he’d felt last night when you’d said it. He shook it off, just like he always did, and headed inside with Eric and Shanae, the latter seeming anxious to get this night over with. Jason couldn’t blame her; she was meeting her boyfriend’s ex-wife, who he had a long and complicated history with. 

Eric had just recently told Shanae about what had happened to them a year ago in Iraq and, miraculously, she believed him. Jason hadn’t asked for details on how or why, but figured he must have met some miracle woman who didn’t question the insane too much. 

Salim had recently gotten remarried—they’d all flown out to Iraq for that, minus Rachel—and even he hadn’t spoken about the incident to his new wife. 

“Jason!” Nick’s voice boomed throughout the restaurant and Jason grinned at his buddy, hurrying over and giving him their version of a bro-hug. If Y/n were here yet, she’d have laughed and made fun of us, like she’s done so many times before. “Oh man, it’s been too long, buddy. How the hell are you?”

“Yeah, ‘bout a year since we’ve seen you in person,” Jason reiterated, trying not to think about the state they were all in a year ago. “Been good. Busy workin’, mannin’ that EMT shit. You know how it is.”

“Yeah, and then the rest of his free time is spent with you-know-who,” Eric interrupted with a roll of his eyes, and it was clear to Jason that talking about you and him was going to be the way they chose to get through this little dinner party. “He’s probably with Y/n more than he’s at work, don’t let him lie to you.”

“Ah, well that doesn’t surprise me,” Nick laughed, and they all sat at a nearby table, leaving an open seat next to Jason for you, whenever you decided you were going to show up. “Those two were glued to the hip from the moment Panic Attack arrived on base.”

“Speaking of the devil,” Shanae whispered, gesturing softly to the front door of the restaurant. Jason looked up—half-wishing he hadn’t, honestly—because when he saw you, his heart stopped.

He’d seen you dressed up before, but not quite like this; a tight, black dress was fitted over your body, barely compressing your curves and leaving little to the imagination. It was made of leather—and fuck he didn’t even know that he liked leather—but after seein’ you in that motherfuckin’ dress, he fuckin’ loved leather. 

 You’d curled your hair in the way that he’d always loved and you had adorned your eyelids with makeup that made the color of your eyes vibrant, making Jason feel slightly weak in the knees. As you approached, he stood from his chair like the perfect gentleman, a smile on his face as he pulled your chair out for you and you sat down with a measly sigh.

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t our little Panic,” Nick teased and Jason noticed how your glare towards him was fake, seeing the glint in your eyes at the familiarity of Nick’s use of the nickname. You rolled your eyes at him but you smiled when he came over to your side of the table and gave you a hug. Jason noticed that you were watching Rachel warily, but it seemed like Rachel didn’t notice, as her eyes were currently glued to her ex-husband. 

“Kay,” you’d giggled, sending Nick a soft smile as he made his way to the other side of the table again. “It’s nice to see you again.”

“Y/n, you look—wow,” Jason whispered as you turned over to him, a panicked, blanched look on your face as he said the words. Jason gulped, weighing the pros and cons, but ultimately decided to push his luck. “Seriously you—you’re stunning. You’re the most beautiful person here.”

There was a smooth, even blush fanning out across your cheeks but you only nodded your head in thanks, turning away from him awkwardly. The odd interaction only worried him more, and he began to panic as he wondered just what the fuck it was he did to make you act this way. And if whatever he did was fixable, or if he were actually losing you, his best friend, over it.

You exchanged pleasantries with the rest of the group, and the night had seemed to be moving along smoothly; although Jason noticed that you seemed to be consuming more alcohol than dinner tonight. You were oddly quiet—usually, you were the life of the party, gluing everybody together—but you could barely answer a simple question tonight, and Jason could sense that something was seriously wrong. 

Eric, Rachel, and Nick seemed to be getting along well, although Jason could tell that everyone was far more interested in your mood, obviously noticing how strangely you were acting tonight. Nick even kicked Jason under the table, gathering his attention, before he subtly gestured to Y/n and mouthed, “What’s wrong?!” Jason had just shaken his head, just as confused as his friend was. 

Shanae had finally had enough at one point or another, because she smiled sweetly at you and asked, “Y/n, are you alright? You’ve been rather quiet tonight.”

“Yeah, usually I can’t get you to shut up,” Jason chimed in teasingly with the hope of getting you to cheer up, expecting you to do what you always did—poke him in the ribs where he was sensitive, or rib him right back as the two of you laughed about it, maybe even giving him a small kiss on his cheek like you sometimes did.

Instead, you turned to him, a mighty glare in your eyes as you answered, “Well geez, sorry, Jason. I didn’t realize that my voice was such a turn-off to you.” 

Jason’s mouth dropped open and he physically recoiled, shocked at your loathsome reaction to his simple jokes. 

“Whoa, sweetheart, I was just kiddin’,” Jason defended himself with wide eyes, his hands thrown up in the air. “I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings—”

“Oh, please, you and I both know that my feelings are the least of your concern,” you’d snapped back, and Jason’s jaw dropped open in shock, his heart clenching at the accusation you’d just thrown at him. Rachel took a comical drink of alcohol, her eyes wide, as she pretended not to watch the show that you were suddenly putting on for everyone.

 Shooting the rest of the table a this isn’t for your eyes, glare, Jason scooted his chair closer to you, leaning in so that he could speak to you quietly. He hoped that you would follow suit, knowing that if you caused too much of a scene, you’d be incredibly embarrassed once you found yourself sober.

“Y/n, what the hell?!” Jason whisper-yelled, hurt and enraged that you would say something like that to him. What the fuck did you even fuckin’ mean he didn’t care about your feelings?! He stayed awake all night, multiple times a week, because of how much he fucking cared about you. Where the fuck was this coming from? 

“What the fuck is up with you tonight?”

You only glared back at him, your eyes shining with what he thought were tears. 

“Can’t I just be a little quiet sometimes, Jason? Do I always have to fill the awkward silences for everybody? Am I not allowed to feel a little bit off?” You were rambling now, and tears were flowing down your face freely as you shouted back at him. 

“No, darlin’, of course you can, I just—tell me what’s buggin’ you,” Jason pleaded, shaking his head in confusion. “Let me help you, or fix it, or even just make you feel better—”

“It’s not your fucking job to make me feel better,” you retorted with a hiss, pushing your chair away from him and throwing your napkin down onto the table. “Okay? So just—quit trying.” 

The two of you had forgotten about the others at the table, too wrapped up in your own melodrama to care that you had an audience. Jason was so worried about you—so worried that he was losing you—that he really couldn’t give a fuck who was listening right now.

“What the fuck are you talkin’ about?!” Jason hissed back at you, pulling his chair back to you again to regain some semblance of privacy. “That’s fuckin’ ridiculous, Y/n, I’m never gonna quit tryin’ to help you—”

“You are not my boyfriend, Jason,” you clapped back, standing from the table and putting distance between the two of you. “So just, stop—stop acting like one and let me go. Please, just, let me move on!” 

A heavy, awkward, tense silence filled the room after you’d shouted the words, and all Jason could do was watch your chest heave up and down as you attempted not to hyperventilate.

Jason stood from the table too, but he froze at your last sentence, his mouth falling open in shock and confusion. He opened his mouth to say—something, anything, he didn’t fucking know—but he couldn’t force any words to come out. 

“Y/n, let me drive you home,” Rachel offered, standing from the table and putting herself in between Jason and you. “You’re in no state to drive right now, and Nick will come pick me up later.”

Jason saw you nodding frantically, pressing your hands to your eyes as you wiped tears away from them. 

“Yeah, that’s—yeah,” you agreed readily, grabbing your purse and reaching for your keys to toss to Rachel.

“Wait—no,” Jason interrupted, stepping in between the two of you and attempting to get you to look at him. You refused, your face turned down and away, even though his eyes were pleading for anything that you were willing to give him. “No, Y/n, I’ll drive you, please—we need to talk about this—”

“No.”

Your answer—short, firm, and upset—shocked Jason to his very core and he felt his eyes stinging, his heart dropping into his stomach. He shook his head, unable to understand your simple command, and he stepped closer to you.

You stepped away.

“Y/n, please,” Jason pleaded, dropping his hand between you as he held back a shaky breath. “You’d rather go with Rachel than me right now? Are you serious?”

You didn’t answer him, your only movement was one towards Rachel as you handed her your keys with a sniffle. “Can we go now, please?”

“Yes,” Rachel answered, nodding resolutely at Jason. “Let’s go.”

Jason’s heart broke as he watched you walk out of the restaurant with Rachel—a person whom you despised—instead of leaving with him. Your best friend.

What. The. Fuck?

His head was reeling; he had no idea what had just happened and therefore, he had no idea how to fix it. What the fuck had changed in the past twenty-four hours?

“Jason?” Eric’s voice was even and calm, but Jason had a feeling that it wasn’t going to stay that way for long. If there was anybody that was as protective over you as Jason was, it was Eric. Well, not as protective. Jason took the cake on that one, but, still. Eric tended to think with his fists and not his head when it came to you, too. 

“I’m going to ask you this exactly once,” Eric continued. “What the fuck did you do to Y/n?” Immediately, Jason felt defensive, rounding on Eric with a finger in his face and a snarl on his lips.

“I didn’t do fuckin’ anythin’,” Jason growled at him, shoving him back with a hand as Eric rolled his eyes. “Where the fuck do you get off assumin’ that I had anythin’ to do with this?!”

“No offense man, but whatever that was, it had everything to do with you,” Nick interrupted, sharing a concerned look with Eric. Since when were the two of them fuckin’ friends?! “Did something happen between you two?”

“NO,” Jason persisted, pressing his hands to his temples as he began to get a headache. “Everythin’ was fuckin’ normal until—last night?”

“Y/n didn’t come over last night,” Eric argued, crossing his arms over his chest and Jason rolled his eyes.

“What the fuck, Eric, are you the Y/n police now?” Jason asked sarcastically, and Eric glanced back at Nick again. The sight of them looking at each other, like they had some stupid sort of secret about him that he wasn’t entitled to, enraged Jason and he threw his hands down, beginning to pace nervously. “What? What the fuck are you two…lookin’ at?!” 

“Look, maybe you should just…fill us in on what happened last night, and maybe we can help figure out what’s going on with Y/n,” Shanae jumped in, standing in between Eric and Jason as she attempted to play peacekeeper. 

Jason sighed, running a hand through his hair as he nodded. What else was he supposed to do? God knew he couldn’t figure it out by himself. He’d been givin’ himself migraines attemptin’ to do just that. 

“I picked her up from work, like I always do on movie nights,” Jason started reiterating. “Told her Nick was comin’ into town, and that he was bringin’ Rachel. That’s when she first got jumpy—but then, when I asked her to come to this dinner with me, she seemed alright? Well, she did, until—”

“Until what?” Shanae asked kindly and Jason blinked at her, remembering.

“Well, she did ask if I meant as a date,” Jason admitted, furrowing his brows and pursing his lips as he tried to puzzle it out in his mind. “I said no, ‘cause I didn’t mean it like that and even if I had, I knew she would just panic about it, so—”

“Holy fucking shit,” Eric interrupted, rolling his eyes and pointing an accusatory finger towards Jason’s chest. “You’re a fucking idiot, Jason.”

Eric’s words lit a fire in Jason’s chest and he went at him, puffing up his chest as he ran into Eric’s finger, fully prepared to punch him straight in the face and ask questions later. 

“What the fuck are you talkin’ about?!” Jason demanded, fully aware that they were garnering stares from other restaurant-goers now. “What the fuck do you mean?!”

“Y/n’s in love with you, you dickhead!” Eric screamed back at him, his face red and eyes narrowed into slits. “She fucking adores your stupid ass!”

Jason’s chest constricted with anxiety and he shook his head; you…loved him? No, not possible; if you felt that way about him, he would have known it already, or, or you would have…you would have told him. Right?

“No,” Jason denied and Eric threw his hands up and groaned in frustration, shaking his head vigorously. “What, you dickhead?! She doesn’t. She’s not. We’re just…we’re just friends!”

“No, Jason, she is,” Nick interrupted with a sigh, waving a hand in apology to the waitstaff. “Y/n has been in love with you for years, Jason. Even before we fell down those fucking caves.”

The realization hit Jason like a ton of bricks, weighing him down as he realized that Nick was right; everything you’d done for him, the way you looked at him, how you only spent your free time with him—it made sense. You were in love with him.

Holy fucking shit—he was a stupid fucking dickhead.

“Oh, fuck,” Jason groaned, clutching at his hair in his own stress. “Shit, fuck, oh, no.”

“Did you seriously not know that Y/n is madly in love with you?!” Nick questioned, bringing Jason a glass of beer that he downed, instantly. 

 “I’ve never…thought about her like that,” Jason admitted, although as soon as the admission left his lips, it felt wrong. Had he thought of you like that? Sure, he had fantasies about having sex with you…sometimes he thought about what it would be like to kiss you, or build a family with you but that didn’t mean—that didn’t mean he loved you. Did it?

“Bullshit!” Nick instantly exclaimed, loudly, causing Jason to jump in shock. Jason opened his mouth to protest or—explain, maybe—but Nick held up a finger with a warning glare that he wasn’t quite finished. 

“You seriously never noticed how much of a fucking wreck you were whenever Y/n was out on assignment?” Nick asked, and Jason gulped as he remembered how awful it had felt, not knowing if you were coming back to him. How he’d thrown things and broke things and been a general asshole to everybody until the second that you came back to the base.

 “Or how fucking moody you’d get when she went out with other Marines on base?” Jason grunted at Nick’s words, and even now, he remembered that he’d felt jealous of Eric just taking you to work—and Eric had a very steady girlfriend. 

“You’re sitting here and you’re telling me that you don’t stay up with her all night long when she has nightmares, just to hold her?” Nick continued. “You’re gonna sit here and you’re seriously going to tell me that you had no problem letting Clarice die when she was infected; but when it was Y/n, you wouldn’t let anyone even think about doing the same to her?! You’re really gonna sit here and you’re gonna tell me that you did all of that stuff and you’re not in love with her?!”

The silence in the room was deafening as the pieces began to click into place in Jason’s mind; his heart was racing, his palms were sweating, and he felt like he was going to pass out.

 “Holy shit!!!” Jason hollered, hopping back up to his feet with his mouth gaping open and a frantic, terrified look on his face. “I’m fuckin’ in love with her!” 

Nick walked over to him with a smile on his face, clamping a hand on his shoulder comfortingly. 

“Yeah, dude,” Nick confirmed. “Take it in. You’re down fuckin’ bad.” 

As soon as the words left his friend’s mouth, Jason knew. Fuck, how could he have missed it?! How could he have pushed his feelings for you so far down that he hadn’t even realized it himself? Fuck, and he knew he loved you too, because he’d almost said it to you—when he thought you were dying, down in those caves and you’d asked why he saved you—fuck he was so fuckin’ stupid!

“Oh, shit, fuck, I need to get to her now,” Jason rushed out, hurrying over to the door and leaving Nick, Shanae, and Eric following behind him. “I need to tell her—fuck, she needs to know—”

“Shit dude, you can’t drive like this,” Nick insisted, wrenching Jason’s arm away from his truck and pulling him over to his car. “I’ll take you, and then Rachel and I will find a way to get your truck back home, alright?”

“Fuck it, I don’t give a shit, just get me there,” Jason begged and Nick nodded, trying not to laugh at the visual of Jason swinging himself into his car as if his life depended on it. 

But fuck, it sure as hell felt like it did.

🌒

YOU couldn’t bring yourself to change out of your tight leather dress. You desperately needed to take off the stupidly lacey underwear you’d worn underneath it—you’d wanted to feel hot, confident—but all it did was serve as a reminder to you of the sex that you weren’t having and that you haven’t had in a ridiculously long time. 

You sighed, staring at your reflection in the mirror and trying not to cry; you were certain by this point that you had ruined whatever friendship that you and Jason had. You’d self-sabotaged, and why? Because you’d let your stupid, selfish feelings get in the way? You were such an idiot, and even if there was a way to fix it, you were certain that there wasn’t a way to forget it.

You thought you heard a knock at the door, but you waved it off, focusing on scrubbing the makeup off of your face. It wasn’t until Jason’s deep timbre of voice floated through your apartment that you stood, frozen, before running out of the bathroom.

There he was, standing in your living room, looking distraught and glancing around anxiously for you. Rachel was gone, you noticed, and as soon as you did, Jason’s eyes found yours and a sense of relief settled across his face.

You stood across the room and downed a half-mug of coffee—Rachel had made you sober up— and you set it down slowly on the counter with a gulp, knowing that if you were going to salvage this relationship, now was the time to do it.

“Jason,” you greeted, walking slowly towards him with your hands up in surrender. “I’m so sorry, I should have never been drinking—and I definitely should have never said any of those things to you—”

“I’m in love with you,” Jason interrupted, his words coming out quickly and desperately, like he really needed to say it right then or he might never get up the courage to do it. Your body turned as cold as ice as you attempted to convince yourself that he’d said something else. Anything else, because, surely, he didn’t say what you think he just fucking said to you.

 “I—I fuckin’ love you, Y/n, and I’m so sorry that I never said it before—”

“What?” You questioned, taking a step away from him and pinching yourself lightly as you tried to deduce if this was real life. Yup; this is real. This is legit. “You—what?” 

To your utter surprise, Jason smirked; and then, he laughed. Out loud. Like this was the funniest conversation in the whole fucking world, but you really couldn’t manage to find the humor in it. 

“I love you, Panic Attack,” Jason continued with a gigantic grin on his face, grabbing your hands and pulling you towards him. You didn’t resist, allowing him to pull you into him as his arms encircled your waist, his one hand reaching up to cup your cheek and press a tiny, sweet kiss to your forehead. “I think I—fuck, no, I’ve always known that I loved you I just—fuck.”

Jason took a deep, steadying breath, leaning his forehead against yours, as if he were drawing some extra strength from you, and you felt your own eyes fluttering shut of their own accord. Funny; my heart is racing and yet, I feel so calm, so steady. How is it possible to have both at the same time? How can one person have this much of an effect on you?

“I’m so terrified that if I let myself love you, I’ll lose you and—Y/n, I can’t. I. Can’t. Fuckin’. Lose. You.”

Your entire chest felt like it was on fire—the good kind, that is—and you beamed up at him, feeling the tears spring from your eyes but not really giving a shit. 

“You’ll never lose me, Jason,” you assured him quietly, reaching up and grasping his face in your hands, giggling as you watched the large, amazingly beautiful smile of his light up his face. “I love you so much, I can’t even think sometimes—”

His mouth was on yours before you could even finish speaking, but you couldn’t give two fucks; you reciprocated the kiss with just as much fervor as he was giving you, and you found yourself leaning farther and farther into his touch, your hands clutching the bottom of his shirt as you pulled him flush against you, begging to feel more and more of him now that he’d allowed you to have the smallest of touches.

“Fuck, you taste fuckin’ amazing, and that’s just your lips,” Jason moaned into your mouth and you laughed—but your giggles soon turned into moans as Jason’s tongues caressed the inside of your mouth, causing an uncomfortable itch to grow inside of your lacey panties. 

Jason was backing you up into the wall now, his hands clutching your hips when you shifted—as if you were now his lifeline. “Damn, baby, please—I want to taste more of you, fuck, please?” 

You could get used to a whiny, begging Jason.

“Damn it, Jason, like you even have to ask,” you responded in kind, pulling down the tiny sleeves to your leather dress and not even having to wait a second before Jason’s lips were attached to your collarbone, sucking vigorously. You just knew that he was leaving you the fucking biggest hickey in the world, marking his territory like a roadmap down your neck to your chest and you shivered with electricity.

“Shit, Jason, I always knew that you’d be good at this,” you whined, and Jason grinned against your skin, his teeth pressing against the thinnest part of your bone and causing a shiver to run up and down your spine. 

“I don’t know where the fuck you got this leather dress from but baby girl, the moment I saw you in it, all I fuckin’ cared about was rippin’ it the fuck off of you,” Jason growled and you moaned against his words, throwing your head back against the wall as his hands pushed the dress the rest of the way down your torso. You opened your eyes just in time to watch as his eyes nearly bugged out of his skull.

“What?” You asked, confused, your eyes raking down your body as you inspected to see if there were any scars or new bruises that you hadn’t noticed you’d acquired. Frowning as you didn’t see anything out of place, you screeched, “What? Jason, what’s wrong? Is something stuck? Are you alright—”

“Your bra.” Jason’s voice was hoarse, constricted, and it was then that you noticed that his eyes were glued to your breasts almost anxiously, his lips trapped in between his teeth and a hissssss instead of a breath escaping his lips as he took you in. “It’s…fuck, is that just pure lace?”

You grinned evilly at him, pushing the dress past your thighs and watching as his eyes wandered down with it. He audibly whined and pulled back when he caught sight of your barely-covered pussy, throwing his head back and running a hand down his face. 

“Shit, darlin’ that—a matching set—oh, fuck!”

Jason didn’t want to waste anymore time talking, apparently, because he was already on his way downtown, his lips locking onto your breast and removing your bra completely. Your fingers clutched his hair, sure your fingernails were raking damage into his scalp, but he didn’t seem to care. Your yelps and moans were pathetic, but Jason thrived on them, intent on making you cum by just sucking your nipples and circling your most sensitive points with his tongue. 

Jason seemed to grasp the art of multitasking, because his hand shot down your body as his teeth continued to play with your nipples, his fingers tenderly stroking your clit and eliciting a whimper from your mouth.

“Dammit baby, you’re so wet,” Jason mumbled on your breast, and he shoved two fingers up inside of you, causing your breathing to hasten as your breaths came out in pants, his thumb continuing to rub your clit and his tongue not showing any mercy on your hardened nipples.

A short, few seconds later, you were there, orgasming intensely as his hand continued its very hard, important work, and you bucked further into his touch, encouraging him to remove your underwear. He smirked as he did so, but you didn’t fucking care, and you wasted no time in pulling his own clothes off of him, making sure that you took your time to appreciate how fucking fit he was. 

Your tongue raked down his abs as you made your own way down Jason’s body, stopping just short of his penis. You looked up at him with big, doe eyes, and Jason looked back down at you nervously.

“Doll, you don’t have to—”

You didn’t waste any time in taking him into your mouth completely, your mouth doing exactly what it knew how to do. He was big, but you knew you could handle it—and the way that he was moaning and writhing had you feeling insanely confident.

It was only a minute into it that Jason tore your head away by your hair, and you looked up at him, batting your eyelashes innocently.

“Quit teasin’ me,” Jason growled at you and you giggled, straightening yourself up to be back at his level.

“If you don’t like my teasing, then why are you moaning?” You antagonized, and you could see Jason’s tongue in his cheek as his eyes brightened and he shook his head at you, picking you up off of your feet and carrying you to the bathroom.

“You fuckin’ little tease,” Jason sneered and you winked at him, allowing him to set you down in his shower. “I want you wet, princess.”

You didn’t bother correcting his old nickname for you—you simply turned on the shower, allowing the hot water to encompass you both as Jason pinned you up against the shower walls, hiking a leg up as he entered you slowly, taking in your face and making sure that you were alright.

Finding the assurance that he needed, he began to pump in and out of you—him being so big that he filled your walls, hitting your g-spot with minimal effort. That, or Jason knew what he was doing, and you were willing to wager that he did. His mouth was biting, licking, and sucking at your clavicle, with one hand working your clit and the other fondling your breasts, focusing heavily on your nipples as he knew that that had made you cum the first time. 

Your eyes couldn’t help but wander up to his hair, now wet from the streaming water, and something about the brown locks hanging down and sticking to his face was so fucking sexy that it made you cum right on the spot—Jason following instantly after.

When the orgasms ended and the high faded shortly after, Jason looked at you, a cheeky smile on his face as he pressed another kiss to your lips, lingering for a long time as he seemed hesitant to let you go. 

“This is real,” you breathed out, and Jason smiled against your lips, your eyes staring at his dimple as it was so close to you now. “Right? This is really happening? You love me? And you want to be—what, my boyfriend?”

Jason laughed out loud at that and you quirked an eyebrow, confused. He only held you closer as he said:

“Sweetheart, I wanna fuckin’ marry you.”

You watched the blush sweep across his face at his admission and you smiled, pulling his head down to yours for a sweet, emotional kiss.

 “I want to take on life with you, baby—one panic attack at a time.”

You giggled, pulling him closer as you pressed another kiss to his lips.

“That was the stupidest joke that you’ve ever made, Jason Kolchek.”

Jason shrugged and turned you around so that your back was pressed to his front, his strong arms cradling around you as he sighed, pressing hundreds of kisses into your wet hair, the water from the shower encompassing you both in a stream of sex and sweetness.

“Yeah, maybe—but it’s the fuckin’ truth baby! You can’t tell me that I ain’t gonna be goin’ through a million more of these Y/n freak-outs!”

Well, yeah. Even you couldn’t deny that one. 

“Yeah, but you’re going to love every second of the panic, Jase.”

You could feel his lips against your back as he smirked.

“Damn fuckin’ straight.”

Jason taglist: @house-of-kolchek @kawaiiwitch224 @inactiveforidk @lorebite @yeslieutenant @kassiekolchek22 @pechvogel @buttermykolchek @emilykolchivans @e-jaegerenthusiast

Forever taglist: @house-of-kolchek @lorebite @yeslieutenant @kassiekolchek22 @buttermykolchek @kawaiiwitch224 @ageofbajabule

#house of ashes x reader #jason kolchek #jason kolchek x female reader #jason kolchek x reader #house of ashes jason #jason x reader

[daedricxprincess]

Name: Katie or Kat ༺♡༻

Age: 26

About Me: i'm an autistic introvert with bipolar disorder, anxiety, & ptsd. i'm also a recovering heroin addict. i've been gaming & watching anime all my life but in recent years video games especially, and anime have become a huge comfort and outlet for me. gaming has become such a huge part of my recovery and a huge way i ease my panic attacks and anxiety in general. they also help me quite a bit with depression too. i've always been into fantasy creatures and dreamt of fantasy realms and fairytales ever since i was a kid. i can't even explain how much it means to me to be able to escape into these magical worlds in the form of video games. i'm also obsessed with horror and anything strange, creepy, & macabre. so horror games & anime are definitely 2nd underneath fantasy when it comes to genres. 𐀔

my favorite games include: skyrim, alice: madness returns, dragon's dogma dark arisen, hogwarts legacy, alchemy garden, fran bow, kingdoms of amalur, silent hill, resident evil, the legend of zelda, final fantasy, kingdom hearts, dark souls and soo soooo many more.

my favorite anime include: castlevania, death note, tokyo ghoul, hellsing, shiki, soul eater, the ancient magus bride, demon slayer, corpse princess, junji ito, and many more ‹𝟹

───⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰──────⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰──────⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰──────⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰──────⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰──────

on this blog u can expect to see my own screencaps from my nintendo switch & my xbox one and also images & gifs i find of my favorite games & anime. ✨

my main is @nightshadefairy 🌛🔮 🌜

𝐍𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐨 𝐒𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐜𝐡: 𝟸𝟶𝟿𝟿-𝟶𝟸𝟿𝟶-𝟸𝟺𝟹𝟹

𝐗𝐛𝐨𝐱 𝐎𝐧𝐞: 𝚂𝚊𝚒𝚕𝚘𝚛𝙶𝚕𝚘𝟶𝚖

𝐏𝐒𝟓: 𝚅𝚘𝚛𝚙𝚊𝚕𝙵𝚊𝚎

𝐅𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐞: 𝚂𝚊𝚒𝚕𝚘𝚛𝙶𝚕𝟶𝚘𝚖

[cypriathus]

Main protagonist of As The Weaving Fate Beckons

POTENTIAL TRIGGER WARNING: Mental health issues and a brief mention of self-harm, alcohol, and discrimination.

Hirmenogaldus Zuntaheldi L’Patenozudi-Gilebozrath is a 31-year-old vigorous, often serious-minded woman and is the last known holy knight from Rioghachd a’ Choin Neamhaidh (“Kingdom of the Heavenly Dog” in Scottish Gaelic). She’s referred to as the Knight of Beasts due to being known as Europe’s most famous and recognizable slayer and tamer of animalistic creatures. She originally worked with the Praying House of Älkechirnobus, but later abandoned them and their cause after a few unfortunate incidents. She upholds the many characteristics associated with chivalry such as honesty, loyalty, courage, respect, prowess, and a readiness to help the weak. She’s well-versed on a multitude of subjects such as philosophy, theology, history, military strategies, and even occultism. Despite being stoically aloof and wise, her tangible thirst for knowledge and maintaining healthy relationships lends her to being inquisitive and compassionate. However, there are those occasional moments where Hirmenogaldus can be quite clumsy, gullible, and/or naive. She has desirable leadership skills with the right dose of determination, knowing when to continue or retreat, and extrudes a sense of captivating charisma. She has strong motherly instincts and it’s always an honour for her to protect those she deems worthy of help. She isn’t afraid to properly utilise her emotional intelligence in order to ensure someone’s welfare and build a meaningful connection with them. She will even deliberately put herself in harm’s way when her loved ones, friends, and/or the weak are being threatened. She has a palpable sense of justice and despises those who mistreat others for their own personal gain.

She can be quite vindictive and will even go as far to mercilessly kill the perpetrator who either harmed her, her friends, her family, and/or the weak. When slaying certain beasts or beings that are considered to be a threat, she has no qualms of violently slaughtering them, not showing any compassion, mercy, and/or remorse during the process. Despite being sociable, Hirmenogaldus sometimes intentionally isolates herself from other people because of her trust issues. Her stoic nature results in pushing away people, not showing her true emotions, and not properly dealing with and addressing the issues that’s plaguing her mind. She has horrible self-esteem issues and believes that she has to make up for that by protecting the weak, ensuring the welfare of her friends and family, and enacting justice when necessary. Whenever she fails to do so or it becomes too much for her, she gaslights and guilt trips herself, sowing more seeds of doubt into her. Hirmenogaldus is also afraid of being abandoned and forgotten by those she deeply cares about without being warned of their absence. She often engages in contemplative thought, trying to sort out her sorrows and find an ounce of true peace, hope, and happiness.

She’s prone to sudden emotional outbursts, panic attacks, mood swings, and even mental breakdowns as a result of her depression, PTSD, anorexia nervosa, and generalised anxiety disorder. The inconsiderable amount of expectations placed on her due to being a holy knight also contributes to this. She has inconsistent suicidal thoughts and desperately tries to suppress them by harming herself. She usually wants to disappear into nothingness, not having to worry about recurrent, unwanted memories and being afraid of making the wrong decision. She has a tendency to overthink various plans and solutions to all possible worse outcomes in order to avoid making the wrong decision. There are instances where she loses a lot of interest and pleasure in most of her normal activities, making her feel bored and weirdly uneasy. She feels a certain detachedness from those close to her and her mind struggles to concentrate on what’s happening. She often has a pessimistic view on the future as she’s partially fixated on past failures and reliving traumatic events. Hirmenogaldus has a tendency to place heavy restrictions on her eating patterns, having an intense fear of gaining weight. She frequently checks in reflective surfaces for perceived flaws as she’s somewhat relentlessly pursuing thinness. Her perceived body weight negatively influences her self-esteem, and she occasionally complains about being fat. She usually makes excuses for not eating as she doesn’t want to ruin her already distorted body image. There are instances where she perceives certain harmless situations and events as potential threats. She has difficulty handling uncertainty and letting go of her most troubling worries. As a result of all these issues, she tends to feel a sense of looming hopelessness, overwhelming guilt, restlessness, and agitation.

Compared to most medieval folk, Hirmenogaldus is considered to be a giant due to her impressive stature, clocking in at about 6’ 5” (195.5 cm). She has a pear-shaped mesomorphic body type with slightly broad shoulders, a fairly defined waist, and prominent thighs. Her face and neck are adorned with a myriad of reddish-brown freckles, and she has silvery stretch marks on her upper arms, belly, and hips. Her eyes are almost parallel to the stunning sky-blue bill of a male ruddy duck during breeding season. Her skin is a creamy white and she has hair that is an absolutely beautiful golden copper blonde. She has messy, bowl-cut style bangs with the rest of her curly hair being tied into a thick ponytail. She has four recognizable moles: one on the right side of her upper lip; one directly above the left side of her collarbone; the second is located on her belly; and the last mole is on her right mid-thigh. A blatant scar pierces the left side of her forehead, snaking down and over her nose bridge to the middle of her right cheek. She has a couple of other ones: four slightly horizontal scars from her left trapezius to her right deltoid and a blotchy patch of scarred skin near her left kidney. Her breasts have been cut off, there are five healed stab wounds on the backside of her right upper arm, and she carved four Nordic runes onto her belly: ᛊ (sun), ᚨ (god), ᛉ (elk), and ᚱ (ride/journey). The underside of her forearms are covered in healed and fresh lacerations. Her back hides her most brutal scars, seeming to be a mixture of cuts, puncture wounds, and burns.

Hirmenogaldus is commonly seen wearing a full suit of plate armour and her cursed, gilt-brass helmet is shaped similarly to the head of a Western dragon. She has two differently designed golden pauldrons: on the left, it has an engraved blazing sun with a humanoid face; and on the right, it’s shaped like the head of a tarasque without the lower jaw. Her vambraces and greaves were masterfully crafted to mimic the scales of a serpent and the fingers of her armoured gloves are sharp. Her cuirass is decorated with the golden depiction of the Ellén Trechend, which is a three-headed, draconic vulture that can breathe fire. Its main head is in the centre, two heads looking in their designated direction, their legs and wings are spread out on each side, and a partially wavy, serpentine tail. There are other pieces that make up her armour in order to minimise potential life-threatening harm. Hirmenogaldus has a gilt-brass gorget surrounding her neck, two couters for her elbows, and tassets hanging from her cuirass. She has a pair of sabatons with four draconic claws that cover her feet and cuisses surrounding her thighs. She also has two circular besagews that are part of the harness of her plate armour and help to protect her armpits. Her armour is slightly battle-worn, but its vibrancy has surprisingly remained untouched for years. The colour of her plate armour is a reddish-black with a blue-green sheen. Underneath her armour, she wears a quilted green tunic, padded brown legs, white braies, and a wide belt of leather.

Whenever Hirmenogaldus isn’t donning her iconic armour, she’s wearing a full-length ball gown made from fine silk and a tight-fitted, paprika bodice. For both her noblewoman and armoured outfits, she occasionally dons a royal mantle of faded jade with white fur trim that has black leopard spots. Her blackberry silk gown appears to be voluminous due to an ample skirt underneath. Her silk gown covers half of her shoulders and flows down into a fancy, modest semi-sweetheart neckline with a bow of cosmic purple. Around her neck is a velvet choker of cosmic purple with a cardinal pink ruffled top. She has Juliet sleeves and the wrists have turned back cardinal pink cuffs, and the ball gown is decorated with rich golden embroidery. Underneath her gown is a linen chemise and hose that’s held with a garter just below her knee. For jewellery, she’s adorned with a gold and enamel brooch in the form of a dragon’s head, a dark golden pearl necklace, a gilt bronze sapphire ring on the right index finger, and a table cut ruby ring on the left middle finger. She carries a two engrailed top shield that depicts a one-horned dragon with a jousting lance piercing its heart. Hirmenogaldus wields a blood-letting dagger in a serpentine shape made from polished brass. She also wields a 7 ft (213.36 cm) battle-strong claymore forged from an unknowable metal akin to black steel. Its most noticeable feature is that of three raised, eye-like markings right above the cross-guard in a vertical row. When she activates the sword with her own blood, those markings open to reveal fully functional purple jasper eyes and the blade is consumed by blue holy flames. She possesses a traveller’s backpack, one where she stores her collected souvenirs, camping equipment, basic medicinal items, and books that contain a variety of knowledge as well as a cittern that Odeschuna gave her.

Like all holy knights trained under the Praying House of Älkechirnobus, she’s considered to be a psychic. Hirmenogaldus isn’t entirely familiar with her psychic abilities because she doesn’t heavily rely on them like the other holy knights before her. Without her knowing, she has precognition, but it’s in the form of cryptic dreams that vaguely predict future events. She can perceive and read the auras of other individuals, being able to clearly understand their emotions and moral alignment. She can also detect the emotions of those she mentally focuses on, but this can result in blood seeping out of her eyes, ears, and/or mouth (e.g. she’ll cry blood if she senses someone’s melancholy). As a result of dermo-optical perception, she can perceive unusual sensory stimuli such as colour and varying brightnesses through her own skin. She is fully capable of surviving without any water or food intake, and not having to worry about starvation and dehydration. Hirmenogaldus has telekinetic abilities, being able to move and manipulate matter at a distance without physical interaction. She can perfectly mimic the sounds of animalistic beasts as well as talk to them and understand their unique interactions. She’s able to tap into a feral mind, allowing her to perform extraordinary feats of strength and agility that’s beyond normal for her. She’s a master at taming animals by reading, understanding, and staying in tune to their body language. She’s also able to solve many of their behavioural problems and possess unique insight into their psychology. Lastly, Hirmenogaldus has enhanced strength and stamina, being able to engage in physically strenuous activity as well as lift and/or strike objects that are tens of thousands more than her body weight. Due to her draconic helmet being cursed, it seems to intensify her negative emotions and strengthen her psychic abilities. This is one of the reasons why she tries not to heavily rely on her abilities because she’s afraid that she’ll become an irredeemable monster.

FAMILY:

Broghalenius L’Patenozudi-Gilebozrath (father)

Lobaszewinth (mother)

Unnamed older sister

Two unnamed older brothers

Dersabhol Echtagloprinus-Pimbezurta (ex-lover)

Ungelohram Shakjelovi (ex-boyfriend)

Sedulomaith (daughter)

Chaidozluben (son)

Ayrmezhonius Brejzuktophina (adoptive daughter)

ALIASES/NICKNAMES:

Dame Hirmenogaldus

The Accursed Daughter of Duke Broghalenius (by those aware of her psychic abilities)

Knight of Beasts

Fish-catcher

Bread-stealer

Trophy-bearer

Lady of Speedy Visitation

Saint of the Billowing Crusade and Dragon’s Ferocity

Mommy (by her children)

Mother (by her children)

Doll-face (by Mutseloniah)

Zarabaaneh ghalbam (“my heartbeat” in Persian) (by Mutseloniah)

Nafasam (“my breath” in Persian) (by Mutseloniah)

Duvshanit (“honey” in Hebrew) (by Mutseloniah)

Capara (“my blessing” in Hebrew) (by Mutseloniah)

Otzar shely (“my treasure” in Hebrew) (by Mutseloniah)

Vile devourer of mages (by Ikarondelus)

Lying bitch (by Ikarondelus)

Foul whore of barbarity (by Ikarondelus)

Bastard with a devil’s silver tongue (by Ikarondelus)

Fucking idiotic drunkard (by Ikarondelus)

Elskan mín (“my darling” in Norse) (by Raskovulde)

Ástvinur (“love friend” in Norse) (by Raskovulde)

Haustmyrkr (“autumn dusk” in Norse) (by Raskovulde)

She Who Dared To Cross Bifröst (by Raskovulde)

Executioner of the World Serpent (by Raskovulde)

The Burning Gladiolus (by Odeschuna)

The Enraged Wyvern (by Odeschuna)

Destroyer of Tainted Pride (by Odeschuna)

A bhuanchara (“my eternal friend” in Irish) (by Nikmuvolefja)

My greatest rival (by Pelmazodius)

Gladiatorial beast (by Pelmazodius)

Vögelchen (“little bird” in German) (by Regnazoldus)

Herzensbrecher (“heartbreaker” in German) (by Regnazoldus)

The Scorching Blade of Älkechirnobus (By Uhteszoga)

Slayer of Cold Hearts (by Uhteszoga)

Liberator of Anguish (by Uhteszoga)

The Draconic Maiden (by L’Ayncezosud)

Mistress With The Coppery Locks (by L’Ayncezosud)

My scarred mademoiselle (by L’Ayncezosud)

Ma tigresse (“my tiger” in French) (by L’Ayncezosud)

Mon ciel étoilé (“my starry sky” in French) (by L’Ayncezosud)

Mon rayon de soleil (“my ray of sunshine” in French) (by L’Ayncezosud)

Hirmageld (by Perszufoval)

Hirmena (by Bheszawulf)

Sunteholda (by Hulcekrando)

Hellebore of Rosy Blackness (by Hulcekrando)

Soft hyacinth (by Hulcekrando)

Creeping baby’s breath (by Hulcekrando)

Chrysanthemum of a Thousand Winters (by Hulcekrando)

Autumn crocus (by Hulcekrando)

My delicate edelweiss (by Hulcekrando)

Slithering pansy (by Hulcekrando)

FUN FACTS/EXTRA INFORMATION: 

She was originally a closeted lesbian, but later became bisexual.

Her birthday is August 26th (Virgo)

Her blood type is B-

She’s allergic to cats, shellfish, egg white, and balsam of Peru.

In regards to her ethnicity, she’s 37.5% Scottish, 25% British, 12.5% French, 12.5% German, and 12.5% Spanish.

Her father believed that her psychic abilities are a result of a “family curse” that reigned from his bloodline. It usually affects every third generation of females, but that’s more of an estimate than actual biological fact.

She originally had an older sister, but Broghalenius killed her after she turned 2-years-old in fear of her possessing the “family curse”.

She calls her draconic helmet the wyvern’s cursed helm.

Her claymore is called Kigamozertus, which means “stiffness of death” in the Æylphitus language. It's named that due to causing swift decay to a living being once slain. It's believed that the sword absorbs the soul of those truly sinful blood touches it.

It's believed that her claymore belonged to a destroyer angel. Only people who have a suitable mind and a full paranormal psyche can handle such a blade. When a regular being tries to wield it, the claymore transfers its desire to kill sinful and absolutely vile creatures to them. It’ll put them into a bloodthirsty and destructive frenzy until they stop using it.

She likes cute and exotic animals, seal fur, cleanliness, young children, the sound of string instruments, drinking booze with her friends and comrades, daybreak, swampy environments, burning embers, and intricate tapestry.

She dislikes singing, physical and psychological torture, being touched without permission, the feeling of “shallow accomplishment”, muddy puddles, dissatisfaction, impenetrable darkness, treading through snow, pestilence, and famine.

Her hobbies consist of jousting, horseback riding, making flower crowns, slaying monsters, reading, cloud- and star-gazing, and playing her cittern. She also enjoys collecting porcelain ceramics, tea flavours and spices from around the world, rare swords, souvenirs from her travels, and exotic animal skins.

Out of all tea flavours and spices, she likes black tea and asafoetida.

She finds all animals quite fascinating in regards to their behaviours and biology. If she had to choose a favourite, it would either be the western capercaillie, great spotted woodpecker, garden tiger moth, red deer, great tit, or Atlantic puffin.

Her favourite flowers are the bluebell, peony, cowslip, dog-rose, and early-purple orchid.

Her favourite comfort foods are tayberries, cranachan, rumbledethumps, cullen skink, Forfar bridie, tattie scone, and Flies’ graveyard.

Her favourite colours are the blue dye that woad leaves produce and the orange-yellow petals of a pot marigold.

Her biggest pet peeves consist of people who purposely ignore boundaries, rudeness in general, bad personal hygiene, losing things, loud noises, and one-uppers.

She used to have an actual curly bowl cut before she decided to let her hair grow out as a way for her to separate herself from her traumatic past.

For a short period of her life, she was quite racist and discriminatory against mages due to her religious and white supremacist upbringing. However, that drastically changed after experiencing a fair share of abuse, gaining a better understanding of their struggles. She deeply regrets the verbal and physical harm she was tasked and socially expected to do against minorities and mages.

Hirmenogaldus always carries around bandages with her at all times because she’s weary that she’ll get attacked out of nowhere.

She’s obsessed with her own personal hygiene

She has a tendency to judge other people too quickly

She is always looking for new adventures

Hirmenogaldus can be somewhat forgetful and doesn’t like to be reminded of things from her past.

She bites her lower lip and the inside of her left cheek a lot.

She has fairly quick reflexes

She has an unusually high tolerance for physical pain

Hirmenogaldus’ guilty pleasure is daydreaming about sinking her bare feet in white sand and looking out to the clear blue ocean, what it would be like to become one with a full-blooded titan, and bathing in a sacred waterfall.

#writerscorner #writing #creative writing #second original character has been shared #potential trigger warning #viewer discretion is advised #protagonist #female protagonist #original character #personality #physical appearance #outfit #abilities #power #holy knight #tormented #she's inspired by guts from berserk d'arce from fear and hunger and st george #fun facts #extra information #part 2/10

[bullieving-in-amour]

Mundane, Nothing Better

i had the pleasure of participating in a fun little secret santa in a server, and i got the chance to write some lovely fluff for @nakunakunomi o((>ω< ))o hope you like it !

Fandom : Kimetsu No Yaiba || Demon Slayer Rating : Teens and Up, SFW Pairings : Hina/Makio/Reader/Suma/Tengen Dynamic : Romance (friendly to other interpretation) Tags : Gender Neutral Reader, No Pronouns, Modern AU, Polycule-Polyamory, Fluff, Date gone wrong then right, Comedy, Everyone's gay for each others and cute, Mention of anxiety for Suma

Summary :

The plan had been simple : you were to all meet up at this really cute restaurant-café.

Except you hadn't.

The plan had been simple : you were to all meet up at this really cute restaurant-café that had opened a month or so ago, one you all wanted to go to but hadn't had the chance yet. You finally had matching schedules, with none of you missing at all. And, the weather was supposedly, according to the weather reports, going to be agreeable with you. All you had to do was wake up, do your morning routine for a date, and go there. Stress-free, mostly.

It had been your turn to plan the group date, and the last few, organized by your different partners, had been a lot more adventuring. Not that you hated it, far from it, but they took much more preparation - you thought doing something simple would be a good break. They'd all been plenty happy about a more calm time together anyway, so you knew you'd made a good choice with this.

Then, yes, all you had to do, was wake up and do your morning routine.

Except you hadn't - you'd woken up, yes, fine enough.

But then your hot water didn't work when you went to take a shower. Fine, you'd do it the old way, heat up water on the stove and do a more basic clean. It took more time, and more effort, and it did make you a little grumpy. At least it was done with, you thought, as you left the bathroom, dressed up as you planned the day before.

A crashing sound followed by several others alerted you this morning wouldn't be as easy as you'd thought, when you discovered your cat had managed to knock off several vases with flowers and water on the floor, effectively scaring the dog that, in its panic and scramble to get away from the splash zone it'd been close to, had gotten an even bigger mess made.

You quickly sent a message to the group chat, warning them you'd be a little late, and went to work to clean it all up once you'd gotten the animals out of the room, thankful they at least hadn't gotten hurt, if only a little traumatized for the day.

♣

It was with a sigh that you left the bus, miffed at losing time with your partners. Hopefully, the restaurant wouldn't be packed - you'd all settled on a time that would be optimal and did leave room in case of any last-minute incident, such as the ones you ended up subjected to.

You shook your head, ridding yourself of the thoughts of frustration. It wouldn't do you good to head into a time meant to have fun spiraling and worrying. And besides, you wanted to enjoy it entirely with your lovelies, focusing on it all would only make you miss more time with them. Smiling at the thought of getting to meet them all in just a short moment of walking, you straightened up with your mood lifting.

The call of your name by a booming voice made you pause, turning back to see Makio walking fast towards you, followed by the others.

Visibly, they all must have had 'last moment incidents' as well - Tengen not wearing the same clothes he had been in when he sent a picture of himself just before he had left, Suma's eyes red and puffy indicating something must have sent her spiraling in anxiety, and Hina's hair much more of a mess than the tidiness you were used to even if she'd seemed to have fixed it best she could.

"Did I miss messages from you all ?" You checked, not remembering seeing anything about them all being late as well.

"Tengen and I both somehow broke our phones. Suma forgot hers at home." Makio sighed, arms crossed, the others catching up.

"I'm sorry Love," Hina apologized, slight guilt on her face, "I didn't get a chance to send one, and you arrived nearly right when I found myself free."

"No it's alright, don't worry. Are you all okay ? What mess did you all get into ?"

Makio grumbled at the little laugh you let out, crossing her arms, muttering something about 'correcting an ass' and 'being there the whole time'.

Tengen placed a gentle hand on Suma's head, pushing her against him and squishing her there before she could explode into apologies and self-doubt.

"I had the unfortunate chance to be on the receiving end of a filled bucket. I'm lucky enough that it wasn't paint, but it did fry my phone. I went back home to change and found Suma as I was then driving here again, who'd missed her bus." He explained, rubbing her back when she was about to worry herself to the ground again.

A movement of your hand prompted him to gently push her towards you. You wrapped your arms around her, placing your chin on her shoulder and faintly swaying the two of you, shushing her when she tried to apologize, again, reassuring whispers kissed against her cheek making her bury her face against you, letting you bring her down the remaining anxiety high she was on.

"Work called me last minute about something, and it was hectic. Although a good story for the meal," Hina smiled, mischief in her eyes that caught Makio's interest, "it involves me fighting off an old lady in babushka and sandals off of a bodybuilder."

This brought a sharp laugh out of Tengen, his arm going around the back of the two's shoulders, Makio in the middle linking her fingers to Hina's on her right.

"Did she win ?!" Suma exclaimed, not letting go but moving to make it possible for the both of you to move as she clung on, nimble fingers hooked on the belt hooks of your pants, arms framing your waist.

"That's for you to discover once we're there, pretty girl." Hina teased, refusing to answer any more questions Suma kept sending, trying to grasp any little crumb of the story before allowed, as all of you made your way to the restaurant.

You thought your favorite part of the date, at the end of the day, was when you were leaning against Tengen who was laughing into your hair, his lips placing gentle kisses there every few moments; Makio on your other side with Suma on her lap, her thighs pressed against yours and her strength evident through the contact, arms around Suma's waist, and with Suma sitting across her lap, her legs leaning against yours with the angle, and poking Tengen with the tips of her shoes; Hina, half on the seat, half on Tengen's lap, to face you all better as she regaled you with a tale of her misadventure, adoring eyes promising much affection once you'd all be in privacy; warm drinks and warm meals on the table.

A little enclave of warm love and mundane, the best you could have asked for this day.

hope you liked it ! leave a comment and reblog !

#my writing #kny x reader #demon slayer x reader #tengen x reader #hinatsuru x reader #makio x reader #suma x reader #kimetsu no yaiba x reader #fluff #comedy #slice of life #romance #gender neutral reader #polyamory

[bartholomew-the-frog]

Bartholomew visits @subway!

He had a great time.

#barth me boi #bartholomew the frog #frog #little stuffed animal #my frog #bartholomew jason jameson the 3rd #stuffed animal #stuffed animal travels #subway #@subway #slayer of anxiety and panic

[thepaperpanda]

𝓓𝓪𝔂 16 - Live Out A Dream || demon!Kyojuro Rengoku x fem!reader

Masterlist

Summary: Despite the fact that he is no longer who he used to be, your dear Kyojuro visits you late at night.

Warnings: Smut

Word count: 1088

Author: Cass

A/N: the prompt for today is: Demon Sex Rengoku I had in mind while writing this.

It was normal for people to leave the Demon Slayer Corps. Some of the slayers left because of health problems, injuries, or were forced to leave by death itself.

Hashiras weren't usually seen leaving with demons, but your master left with one. 

Kyojuro Rengoku was more than just your master; he was also your lover. The pain might have been doubled because of that.

His actions were unexpected. As a man of honor, he always put others' safety before his own, so why would he do such a thing? His wounds or all the blood he lost may have prompted him to do this.

All those questions were on your mind after you saw him leaving with the demon.

The results of a Mugen Train were many people saved, broken hearts, and a traitorous Hashira.

With a heavy heart, you chose to remain a Hashira of Demon Slayer Corp; you were no longer an apprentice. You were always wondering if your former Master would cross paths with you again.

Many missions were sent to you, some more challenging than others, but the most recent was the most challenging. Due to that, you were sent back to your estate to rest before being called upon again.

Unlike any other night before, this one was completely hellish; nightmares and anxiety were constantly bombarding your consciousness; not even nights where you were recovering from deep wounds were as difficult as this one.

Tired of tossing and turning, you decided to go outside and get some fresh air to calm your racing mind. Your eyes slowly closed as you sat on the egawa, as if your body was trying to rest.

"Look at you, my dear Y/N, my tsuguko, my beloved."

When you heard the familiar tone, your eyes snapped open to reveal Kyojuro's face: gray skin with a red, flamelike pattern, red eyes with yellow, glowing pupils, looking right at you; his hair was long and looked like a real fire.

It would have been wise for you to panic, you should have taken action, you should have attacked the demon, you should have beheaded it.

Nonetheless, you did not act in this manner.

A smile spread across his face as your hand moved to cup his cheek; to your surprise, he felt warm to the touch; with a smile, he nuzzled your hand. "My little flame," he whispered, kissing your warm hand. "I couldn't bear another moment without you," Kyojuro confessed, pulling you into a tight embrace.

Your body was stiff and there was no way you knew what to do. He was a traitor, a demon, but at the same time he was Kyojuro, your master and lover; you had missed him for so long and he was here, hugging you tightly like he always did.

As a final gesture, you nuzzled his shoulder and returned the hug.

There was something wrong; you couldn't pinpoint what it was but this feeling didn't give you any peace. The world crumbled suddenly around you and you awoke with a soft gasp and a short moan. It was just a dream, a fairy tale reunion.

You were feeling the coldness of the night on your skin and wondered whether or not you had closed the window. As you reached for your silky nightgown to be tightened around your body, you discovered that you were entirely naked. Your body trembled from the sensation of something warm pressing against your clit and something filling your pussy, massaging your inner walls.

"Fuck!" You whined, staring into the glowing eyes of the hungry demon eating you alive. While watching Rengoku settle comfortably between your parted legs, you thought to yourself that it wasn't a dream at all. You licked your lips in satisfaction.

Keeping a steady and strong pace, the thick fingers of his moved in and out of your pussy; his thumb massaging your clit covered already in his thick saliva.

It wasn't long before the knot in your lower belly snapped and you screamed loudly. You watched him kneel while trying to catch your breath. There was nothing right about it.

"My darling flame, I was worried you would sleep through the fun," Kyojuro chuckled, pulling you closer by grabbing your legs.

Despite your surprise, you moved your hands up his chest, tracing the fiery mark in the middle. "My love… I can't believe you came to me."

He pushed his hard cock into you, earning a yelp from you, as he said, "I promised you that I would be with you till my last days. And I'll visit you every night."

Was it just your lustless mind playing tricks on you or did he feel bigger than before?

His hard thrusts easily made you whimper.

For him, every sound you made was like a melody, a melody he really missed; the idea of coming back to you was a good one.

Raising your hand, you said quietly, "Kyojuro..."

As he watched you, he raised an eyebrow, refusing to slow down; he used to do this when he was still a man. Kyojuro was shocked that you still wanted to do this despite everything that happened. A certain humor was apparent in the way humans acted, even a hint of pathetic sentiment. As he intertwined his fingers with yours, he mocked you, "You haven't changed at all." 

Squeezing his hands, you focused on the sensation of his cock fucking you deeply and nicely. Once again, you felt the familiar knot building in your lower belly.

Suddenly, he let go of your hand and his thumb started to roll and pinch your clitoris; it made your pussy clench rapidly around his shaft buried deep within you.

His hips moved shallowly as he grunted deeply to help you come down from your high.

 You expected him to fill you up, so much so that you pawed at his toned chest silently begging him for it. However, despite your silent pleas, he pulled his dick straight out and cummed all over your belly.

Watching him, you whined with sadness.

Kyojuro chuckled and leaned down. "You have to earn this," he said as he kissed you passionately.

It was hard to tell whether the events of the previous night were real when you awoke the next morning. The ache between your legs gave you the impression that this indeed occurred, but at the same time it made no sense. The point of thinking about it over and over was pointless, but you really hoped Kyojuro would come back.

#kyojuro rengoku x reader #kyojuro rengoku #kyojuro rengoku smut #Demon!Kyojuro #kny x reader #rengoku smut #rengoku x reader #demon slayer x reader #kyojuro rengoku x you #fic recs #paperpanda kinktober #kinktober 2022

[reallypleasanttree]

Hey there I’m a huge fan of your works and stories ☺️💯. And I was wondering, what inspired you to write such a beautiful,tragic, and heartwarming story about Kanroji and Obanai?

First off, thank you so much! ☺️ I adore tragic romances, so when I finished reading Demon Slayer I was torn to shreds by Obanai and Mitsuri’s story. Their type of love is my ideal where they simply accept each other as they are. It’s simple and sweet.

They were stripped of their happy ending. If they just had the courage to express their feelings before the end, they could have been happy together. It hurt so much. Especially with the way Obanai viewed Mitsuri and believing he needed to be reborn just to be with her? Heartbreaking. Mitsuri would have loved him no matter what his upbringing was. They both viewed each other in a positive light, but the way they viewed themselves was negative. Obanai thought he was a corrupt, vile creature while Mitsuri was insecure and wanted acceptance. If they had been able to see themselves the way the other viewed them, they could have confessed before the final battle. It devastates me every time and I have to remedy it.

Anyway, I read a ton of fanfics for Obamitsu. “Nights” by Rottorex, Peppermint Tea” by prettyshimmie, and “to die nobly, to cleanse his filthy blood” by Clemsmelody helped inspire it. I started daydreaming and plotting out my own fic.

After a few days of thinking through plot points, I decided to go for it. “Wedding Plans” was supposed to be three chapters. 🙃 however, I kept writing more and more about Obanai’s backstory and deep dived into his psychology. I couldn’t just make him suddenly be better in two months and not explain how he got better. I wanted to show a realistic recovery for someone with depression, anxiety, and childhood abuse. It doesn't happen over night and it takes a lot of effort.

As someone with depression and anxiety, I drew from my own experiences. The part where Obanai didn’t know how to tie his shoes? My parents never taught me, so I taught myself. When you realize your parents didn’t teach you the bare minimum to dress yourself, it hits you like a brick. You explain away their actions and accept it as the norm because that’s what was expected of you.

With Mitsuri, I admire her personality. I love people who are exceptionally kind, always wear a smile, and genuinely care about you as person, not just for show. She’s a normal girl with insecurities and wishes to be accepted. Everyone can relate, I’m sure. Also, I love writing her awkward moments. I wanted to show a relationship gradually develop from a place of admiration and respect. Also, it was fun coming up with different scenarios and how to apply their past lives to the modern era.

To be honest, the parts I write in the Demon Slayer canon universe are primarily inspired by fan art. I wanted to highlight little actions and moments that lead to Mitsuri and Obanai falling for each other. I’m so excited to share the next flashback scene, but I don’t want to spoil it.

When it comes to writing, I love angst, but I have to even it out with lighthearted moments. Like Mitsuri making Obanai food for the first time and then he has a panic attack. My partner calls it "dark cotton candy fluff", which cracks me up. Plus with the cast of characters in Demon Slayer, it makes it easy to keep it heart warming. Kyojuro and Gyomei especially. 🥰

To sum it up, I was inspired to write Obanai and Mitsuri’s story in the modern era because I wanted to explore the beginnings of a relationship, Obanai’s past and family, and ultimately give them the happy ending they deserved.

As for my other Obamitsu fics, I write them on a whim and let my steam of conscious take over ("To my love", "Positive, Positive, Positive", "I want to live this life with you", and "Mrs. Iguro") Or they are discarded scenes from "Wedding Plans" (See "Bitter Torment").

#obamitsu #obanai iguro #mitsuri kanroji #demon slayer #mitsuri x obanai #obanai x mitsuri #writing asks

[hinatastinygiant]

1 | Seeds of Destiny

Pairing: Sanemi Shinazugawa x Fem!Reader

Lotus Masterlist

You flopped onto your bed, exhaustion weighing heavy on your shoulders. Kagaya Ubuyashiki's monotonous lectures always left you drained, even if they were meant to inspire and motivate you. The importance of the demon slayer corps was undeniable, but sometimes, you wished for a break from the constant weight of responsibility.

Just as your eyes began to droop, your phone pierces through the silence with an incoming call. Mitsuri's name flashes on the screen, and you muster up enough energy to answer. 

"Hey, Mitsuri. Is everything alright?" you answer, your voice laced with weariness.

"Hey, Y/N! I'm throwing a party at my place tonight. You have to come!" Mitsuri's voice bubbles with enthusiasm.

You hesitate for a moment, feeling the fatigue in your bones. "I appreciate the invitation, Mitsuri, but I'm really tired. I think I'll pass this time."

Mitsuri giggles mischievously. "Oh, come on! Don't be a party pooper. It's going to be so much fun! And guess what? Everyone is staying over! So, grab your comfy clothes and bring your toothbrush. It's a sleepover!"

Your eyes widen in surprise. "Everyone? Are you serious? You really want them all in one place for the whole night..."

Mitsuri's voice then becomes more playful. "Yep! And who knows? Maybe it's the perfect chance for you to make your move on Shinazugawa."

You can't help but scoff at the suggestion. "Yeah, right. Like that's ever going to happen."

"Oh, you never know! Better be prepared just in case. Anyway, get ready because someone will come to pick you up in about an hour," she giggles over the phone.

Panic surges through your body as you realize the limited time you have to prepare. "Wait, Mitsuri! An hour? That's barely enough time-"

But before you can finish your sentence, Mitsuri hangs up, leaving you with a mixture of excitement and anxiety. You jump off your bed, adrenaline pumping through your veins as you scramble to get everything in order.

You put your headphones on, drowning out the world with music as you pack your bag. Lost in your own world, dancing and singing along, you don't hear the knock on your front door. In fact, you don't notice anything until your bedroom door creaks open, and a familiar voice startles you.

"I'm guessing you're not ready yet," Sanemi says in his usual gruff tone, leaning against the door frame, looking amused when he sees the startled look on your face. 

You hastily take your headphones out and turn to face him, slightly flustered. "Shinazugawa! You can't just come into a girl's house without knocking! It's basic courtesy."

Sanemi shrugs casually, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "I did knock. You just didn't hear it."

You cross your arms, refusing to let him off the hook. "That's not an excuse. You should wait for permission, regardless."

He raises an eyebrow, the smirk never leaving his face. "Alright, I'll keep that in mind. Mitsuri called you about the party, right? Are you going?"

You let out a chuckle, busying yourself with packing. "What does it look like? I'm getting ready to go right now."

Sanemi's gaze lingers on you, assessing your appearance. "You need to get ready? But you look fine."

Your face heats up, and you try to brush off his comment. "Well, I still have a few things to do. It's not like I woke up prepared for this. She pretty much just called me. But I'm actually surprised you're going too. I didn't really think parties were your thing."

Sanemi shrugs nonchalantly, his smirk turning into a half-smile. "Well, I won't be going. Not if you take so long. You don't want to keep people waiting, Y/N, especially me."

Rolling your eyes playfully, you retort, "Oh, please. Don't act like you're the most important person in the world. I'll be ready in no time."

With determination, you finish packing your things and sling your bag over your shoulder. Sanemi's gaze lingers on you, and he can't help but tease, "Just don't fall in love with me tonight, okay?"

You scoff, trying to hide the flutter in your heart. "Please, I've gone this long without falling for you. I'm pretty sure I can survive the next century."

He chuckles, a mischievous glint in his eyes. But without much more to say, you both walk outside together, the cool evening air brushing against your skin.

Before getting into the car, you remind Sanemi, "Seriously though, don't just walk into a girl's house like that. I could have been in the shower or something."

He shrugs, a nonchalant grin on his face. "So what? It's not like you have anything to hide."

"What?!" you nearly choke on your own saliva.

"We see each other every day," he shrugs. "I know pretty much everything you do. It's not like you've got some secret double life," he then clarifies.

The comment strikes a nerve, and anger flares within you. "Respect and privacy matter, Shinazugawa. It's basic courtesy. Even if we do know each other."

Unfazed, he leads you to his car, a sleek white vehicle parked nearby. It's stylish and elegant, with a touch of sophistication. The sight of it leaves you impressed.

"Nice car. I didn't know you had one," you remark, appreciating the clean design.

Sanemi smirks, his grip tightening on the steering wheel. "Eh, it's relatively new. Can't stand having to depend on others all the damn time to get places, you know?"

As you and Sanemi near Mitsuri's house, a mischievous glint sparks in his eyes. "You know, when I saw you earlier today, it looked like you were about to fall asleep while talking to the old man," he smirks.

Heat rises to your cheeks, embarrassment washing over you. "Were you watching me?" you ask, trying to hide your mortification.

Sanemi chuckles, a playful tone in his voice. "Nah, just happened to pass by. But I couldn't help but notice you were nearly ready to drown yourself in the lake."

You huff a mixture of irritation and amusement. "Thanks for the concern, but I was just tired. No need to make it sound so dramatic."

Sanemi flashes a teasing grin, his eyes glinting with mischief. "Well, you know I'm always here to save you from your perilous nap adventures."

You roll your eyes, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. And then finally, you arrive outside Mitsuri's house. If there's one thing worse than having all Mitsuri's friends in one place, it's being alone with Sanemi and all that awkward tension and you can't wait to relieve yourself from the lesser of the two evils. 

Lotus Masterlist

join the taglist

#fanfiction #sanemi x reader #sanemi x y/n #sanemi x you #sanemi x oc #shinazugawa x reader #shinazugawa smut #sanemi shinazugawa #shinazugawa sanemi x you #fanfiction series #demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #x female reader #demon slayer x reader #demon slayer self insert #x reader #x femreader #fanfic

[sadboytournament]

ROUND ONE

Propaganda

Kobeni Higashiyama: Forced by her parents into a profession with an extremely high body count to pair for other people's stuff. Walking ball of anxiety and panic.

Drusilla: (tw: sexual assault) Had *visions* and a good heart so a vampire decided to destroy her. In the guise of a priest he told her she was an evil abomination, then stalked her & killed her entire family. When she retreated to a convent he killed all the nuns there and was implied to have SA’ed her, driving her mad. In a universe where vampires only have a conscience when they own a “soul”, she explicitly still mourns her family. While the show gives every other member of the Whirlwind (group of 4 key vampires from the show, including Drusilla) gets a soul/redemption, including her implied rapist, she never gets peace in any way

#the sadboy tourney #the sadgirl tourney #kobeni higashiyama #chainsaw man #drusilla #buffy the vampire slayer

[muteshortgirl]

When You Have A Panic Attack

Shinobu Kocho-

Recognizing the signs: Shinobu's keen observation skills would allow her to notice the subtle changes in your behavior or body language that indicate you are experiencing a panic attack. She would be attuned to your needs and react quickly to provide assistance.

Creating a safe environment: Shinobu would prioritize creating a safe and calming environment for you. She would guide you to a quiet and comfortable space where you can feel secure, away from any potential triggers or overwhelming stimuli.

Gentle reassurance: Shinobu's soothing voice and gentle demeanor would come into play during a panic attack. She would approach you with a soft and comforting tone, letting you know that she is there for you and that you are not alone. Her words would be reassuring and filled with understanding, instilling a sense of trust and stability.

Focusing on breathing techniques: Shinobu would guide you through deep breathing exercises, helping you regulate your breathing and regain control over your body. She would demonstrate the technique herself, setting an example and encouraging you to follow along at your own pace.

Distraction and grounding techniques: Shinobu understands the importance of redirecting attention during a panic attack. She might engage you in a calming activity or conversation that can help divert your focus from the anxiety-inducing thoughts. This could include discussing your favorite subjects, sharing stories, or even playing a simple fun game.

Physical comfort: Shinobu would offer physical comfort to her lover by providing a gentle touch, such as holding your hand or embracing you if you are comfortable with it. She would be attuned to your boundaries and respect your personal space, making sure that her actions are soothing and non-intrusive.

Post-panic attack support: After the panic attack subsides, Shinobu will continue to provide emotional support and reassurance to you. She would offer a listening ear, encouraging you to share your thoughts and feelings if you are comfortable doing so. Shinobu's kind and empathetic presence would serve as a pillar of support.

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On a radiant afternoon, when cherry blossoms danced delicately in the gentle breeze, you found yourself unexpectedly engulfed by an overwhelming wave of anxiety. Your heart pounded rapidly, your breath turned shallow, and your body quivered with fear. Recognizing your distress with astonishing perceptiveness, Shinobu stepped forward.

Without a moment's hesitation, Shinobu gently clasped your trembling hand in hers, radiating a cool and reassuring touch. She guided you away from the bustling training grounds, navigating through the labyrinthine corridors of the Demon Slayer Corps headquarters, until you reached a secluded haven untouched by the chaos of diligent slayers. Nestled in this serene retreat, hidden from prying eyes, was a corner where tranquility reigned supreme—a sanctuary unspoiled by the rigors of their arduous training. The soft, comforting melody of a nearby babbling brook serenaded the atmosphere, providing a soothing symphony that cocooned their moment of solace.

With utmost tenderness and empathy resonating in her voice, Shinobu spoke to you, her words carrying a reassuring cadence. "You are safe here," she murmured, her eyes brimming with profound understanding."Take deep breaths with me, focusing on the rhythm of your inhale and exhale."

Demonstrating the technique herself, Shinobu's chest gracefully rose and fell, perfectly synchronized with the soothing rhythm. Moved by her tranquil presence, you followed suit, gradually finding stability in your breathing as you harmonized with her serene guidance.

As the tendrils of panic began to loosen their grip, Shinobu shifted her focus to grounding techniques. Engaging you in heartfelt conversation, she shared captivating tales of her encounters with demons, skillfully diverting your attention from the lingering remnants of anxiety.

Within this tender moment, the world seemed to contract, leaving only the two of you enclosed in a protective bubble of solace and understanding. Shinobu's touch provided solace, her gentle embrace extending comfort while respecting personal boundaries. Gratitude and warmth enveloped you, for you now knew that you were not alone in your struggles.

As the minutes stretched into an eternity, the grip of the panic attack gradually loosened, leaving behind a weariness tinged with profound relief. Shinobu remained steadfastly by your side, her unwavering presence a beacon of solace. She listened intently as you poured out the intricate tapestry of your thoughts and emotions, laying bare your fears and uncertainties.

With a tender smile gracing her lips, Shinobu whispered softly, her words carrying a gentle strength. "You possess a resilience beyond measure. You have confronted the demons that dwell both within and without, and you persist in your fight. Remember, I am here, a constant pillar of support for you, forever and always."

Those words resonated with the deepest recesses of your being, igniting a newfound flame of fortitude and unwavering resolve. You understood that Shinobu would forever be your guiding light, an unyielding anchor amidst the tempest, and an unwavering source of boundless love and support.

From that transformative day onward, whenever anxiety dared to ensnare you within its grasp, you knew without hesitation to seek solace in the presence of Shinobu Kocho. With her gentle touch, comforting words, and resolute presence, she would skillfully guide you back to a haven of tranquility, reminding you of the indomitable strength that resides within your very core.

#Demon Slayer #Kny #Reader #Reader Insert #Y/n #Shinobu #Shinobu Kocho #Shinobu Kocho x Reader #Shinobu Kocho x Y/n #Shinobu x Reader #Shinobu x Y/n