#*HOLD HEAL HARM HELP. CONSUME. CONSUME. CONSUME.*

[acciotaitlynn]

Xavier following you around begging for forgiveness, interfering with your dates, etc after you break up with him because he chose mc to save instead of you but he regrets it now plzzzzzz? 🥺

Hiii! ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ I hope it's okay that this is spicy! Xavikitty's got me really worked up 😩💦 This healed something in me fr. Thank you for requesting!

→ xavier༝you ꒰sylus is your bestie꒱

→ 18+, unprotected sex, vsex, marking/claiming, fingering, masturbation, oral;꒰fem!receiving꒱ angst, overstim, angel/baby/good girl used, ⋆˙⟡ reader is not mc from lads

→ wc: 9k

It plays on an endless loop in Xavier’s head—he remembers pushing you into harm's way to protect her. He shuts his eyes, steeling himself as the memory flares up like a haunting specter, nausea twisting at its force.

How can he possibly make you understand? After countless lifetimes dedicated to protecting Mai, it’s become instinctual, as natural as breathing. He’s devoted himself to placing her life above all else, including his own, to the point where it requires no conscious thought. His body moves according to her needs, like weary clay molded to her unyielding will.

Typically, keeping her safe fills him with immense pride and joy. She’s the center of his existence—the one thing he’s never once regretted dedicating himself to.

He’s unsure when that began to change. Perhaps it was the first moment he laid eyes on you. He remembers it vividly… 

You stood beside Mai, the woman he’s always considered the most beautiful soul in the world, yet all he could see was you. A soft, surprised inhale escaped him as he caught your radiant gaze. Then his eyes wandered over your form, drawn to the uniform that hugged your curves in all the right places—curves that stirred a long-buried ache in him, a longing he’d almost forgotten existed.

Captain Jenna assigned you to the Unicorns team, instructing them to show you the ropes during your first few months. Much to Mai's dismay, Xavier took a shine to you. You both hit it off instantly, diving into animated discussions about books, video games, and anime that last for hours. 

Xavier changes around you. It's a stark contrast from his usual aloof demeanor; he becomes like an overeager puppy, radiating a cheerful, youthful energy that draws you in. You make him feel alive, his soul buzzing with excitement whenever you're around.

Then there's Mai. The lingering touches and flirtations between her and Xavier are familiar yet futile. He feels something for her—his body still heats up when she’s near, and the butterflies flutter in his stomach whenever she hugs him. But you? You make his heart race to the point where he can't think straight. You ignite a spark in him that he’s hesitant to acknowledge, filling him with light and hope. 

With Mai, it’s different. While she makes him happy, the constant chase for something unachievable cloaks their moments in a bittersweet melancholy, even during the brightest times. A nagging question lingers in his mind—is he starting to care for you so deeply that it’s overshadowing his feelings for her? Is that even possible?

Mai has consumed his thoughts and desires for as long as he can remember. He struggles to disentangle himself from her, even against his will. But ever since that first mission together, you’ve carved a place in his psyche that’s too significant to ignore. 

Unbeknownst to him, his changes around you are glaringly obvious. And you can't help but smirk at how annoyed it makes Mai. She does her best to keep you away from him, often splitting up during missions to maintain her hold. She sits closer to Xavier, throwing you daggers with her glares, her flirtations with him seemingly growing bolder by the day. 

Currently, her arm is draped over his shoulders as she whispers into his ear. As your eyes meet Xavier’s, warmth blooms in his gaze, only to falter when you quickly look away.

It’s only been three days since he pushed you in front of that wanderer without a second thought, pulling Mai away as though her safety was paramount. Mai executed her plan with precision, positioning herself between you and the threat when Xavier was distracted to force a choice upon him. It was meant to convey that he ultimately belongs to her.

You've asked him to avoid speaking to you unless it’s work-related, and even then, you prefer silence. His gentle voice feels like a sharp knife cutting deep into your resolve. Just one more month, and you can escape this toxic duo for good.

Watching Mai cling to him is torture—some sort of cruel cosmic punishment for an unknown transgression. Every place her hands linger is a spot you crave for yourself. Your desire for Xavier has burned since the moment you laid eyes on him. It’s evident he shares that longing, how his gaze roams over you when he thinks you’re not looking, and how he blushes fiercely at the simplest of touches.

You just don’t understand it. You know their heartbreaking history; Sylus filled you in. Giving up on something you've worked so hard for is a monumental challenge. Still, they don’t joke and laugh like you do. His eyes don’t light up for her the way they do for you; that deep cerulean gaze doesn’t trace her form with the same heat anymore. He no longer seeks her out or reciprocates her touches. In fact, he’d likely forget her entirely if she weren’t always throwing herself at him. 

So, why doesn’t he draw a line? Why won’t he create the boundary he so obviously needs? It’s maddening. 

You wish for the patrol minutes to fly by so you can escape, grab a few drinks, and retreat to the safety of binge-watching anime, where you can finally process your feelings. 

Your friend’s ringtone cuts through your frustration as Mai nuzzles into Xavier, earning a grimace from him as he pulls back slightly. The deep voice on the other end of your phone call soothes your irritation like crisp, smoky whiskey. 

“Sylus,” you breathe, relief washing over you at the welcome distraction. You hadn’t realized how much you needed it until now.

“You sound upset, sweetie. Is a certain naughty kitten causing you some frustration again?” he teases, referring to the skank currently toeing Xavier’s thigh. You glance around, taking in the scene around you, and it only intensifies your disgust. It's a crowded street, and she just pops her boot off and goes for it.

“It would be great if you could come take her away. for like, ever,” you mumble grumpily.

"But then you might miss me," he drawls, a hint of mischief in his voice.

"That's why video chat exists," you reply, rolling your eyes.

Mai knows exactly who’s on the other end of that line, but her confidence in your friendship with Sylus keeps her at ease. She knows you don’t stand in the way of her claim on him. Instead, she leans closer to Xavier, her fingers tracing lazy shapes along his arm, a suggestive grin plastered on her face. 

Yet it’s a futile effort. Xavier is hanging on your every word, his focus unwavering. His remains unreadable as you assure Sylus you'll arrive soon.

Finally, the clock strikes midnight. Unfortunately, you’ve ridden here with Mai, as your car is in the shop. You contemplate how to ask for a lift, but before you can gather the courage, Xavier swiftly breaks free from Mai’s grasp and gently guides you toward his car.

Your brow furrows in confusion. “Xavier!” Mai's voice drips with irritation as she tries to pull him back.

He dodges her intervention, a determined look in his eyes. “Don’t you need a ride?” he asks, keeping his gaze steady on you.

Mai’s stunned expression is almost comical, but Xavier doesn’t give her the satisfaction of a response. He’s not about to subject you to another awkward ride with her, especially when he can’t shake the unsettled feeling that gnaws at him at the thought of you having dinner with Sylus. How easily you seemed to relax upon receiving his call is driving Xavier mad. 

As Mai seethes next to her bike, Xavier’s focus remains ahead, his expression calm, but his grip on the steering wheel is white-knuckled. You angle toward the window, crossing your arms and letting the scenery blur past. Irritation bubbles just beneath the surface, and you can’t help but murmur, “Escaping your master’s leash. Impressive.” 

He glances at you, a sad smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, but then he turns his gaze back to the road, leaving the tension hanging in the air between you.

Sylus is waiting when you pull up, propped casually against the bar’s porch, with a cigarette in hand and a knowing glint in his eyes as he watches you arrive. Xavier seems poised to say something, but you hop out of the car before he can get the words out, striding straight past Sylus and tossing a casual “What’s up?” over your shoulder.

You miss the way Sylus shoots a glance at Xavier—a look that says, “You better behave.” He has no grudge against the hunter; Mai chose Sylus, so what was there for him to resent? That was until Xavier started hurting you.

“I seriously don’t understand what you see in her,” you mutter as Sylus takes a seat, prompting a chuckle from him and a playful ruffle of your hair.

“I find it all part of her charm,” he shoots back with a grin.

With an exasperated sigh, you focus on getting drunk enough to forget Xavier. That task feels daunting until Sylus volunteers for karaoke, his performance drowning out your worries. When he flops back down at the table, he wears a broad grin, eyes sparkling.

“Good, right?” he asks, confidence overflowing, and it takes all your restraint not to tease him.

He’s sensitive about his singing. So, you lean in with your best serious face. “So good, Sy. You’ve gotten even better!”

His ego balloons as he settles back into the booth, nodding appreciatively as he says, “Truly.”

Carmine eyes brightened by the drinks, his flushed face scans the room, and you can’t help but feel a twinge of annoyance at how effortlessly beautiful he looks when he lets loose. Just once, you wish he’d look bad, allowing you to be the cute one in the friendship.

Noticing your irritated appraisal, Sylus chuckles, his arm draping over the booth. He shoots you a mock, severe look. “Better not let your hunter catch you looking at me like that, sweetie. Or Mai, for that matter.”

You snort, rolling your eyes. “Your head is getting bigger. Seriously, it might be wider than your shoulders by now.”

But his smile vanishes, replaced by concern as he studies you. “How are you holding up?”

Your gentle smile reflects your appreciation for his genuine concern. Sylus can be a pain, but he also knows how to be a great friend. “I’m okay, I guess. If your girl gets any more hands-on, though…” You narrow your eyes at him like it’s his fault. “Doesn’t it bother you that she’s all over him lately?”

He shrugs nonchalantly, tossing back a shot. “Sweetie, look at me, then at him—what’s there to worry about?”

Your scoff drips with sarcasm, enough to irk him. He raises an eyebrow and playfully kicks your ankle, smirking as you wince and curse loudly enough to catch others' attention. But soon, his worry returns, his voice softening as he tries to comfort you. “You know their history, dove. Surely, you can see that letting her go will be nearly impossible for him. I warned you about this.”

He did warn you, and you didn’t listen. Now you wish you had. You gave him a tender smile and a reassuring pat on his hand, murmuring, “I know. I just need time to accept it.”

Mission accomplished—both you and Sylus are sufficiently drunk as you head out, making plans for him to drop you off at your place. You’re busy teasing Mephisto, who’s perched on Sylus’s shoulder. His irritated nip catches your attention, and you notice Xavier’s car is still parked outside. 

Xavier knows you can see him, but you turn away, hopping on Sylus’s bike as he takes off. Guilt and irritation bubble within him as he hits the dashboard, cursing softly while watching you disappear into the distance.

When did he start hating Sylus for being near you rather than for being near Mai? As he contemplates, he realizes their relationship hasn’t bothered him lately. He’s certain he heard them banging last night from his apartment, and he couldn’t have cared less. All that consumed his mind was how to show you how sorry he is. 

After a while, his imagination ran wild, turning Mai’s cries of pleasure into thoughts of you, your sweet voice calling out in ecstasy.  His desire grew painfully as he imagined you beneath him, gripping himself tightly as he came hard enough to see stars, all while dealing with the guilt of betraying your trust.

Earlier, words had failed him, bound tight by guilt and nerves. He doesn’t know how to make you understand, but he has to try; the thought of seeing you in pain any longer is unbearable. The need to wrap you in his arms and kiss away that adorable frown grows stronger daily.

The hope of taking you home and getting a chance to try again disappears with your retreating silhouette. He groans in frustration, his head hitting the steering wheel as exhaustion trickles over him.

He’s an absolute mess. He can’t eat or sleep—two of his favorite things. Even meat doesn’t hold appeal right now. He’s miserable. 

Helplessly, he follows you and Sylus, watching your figures from his car as you sit in front of the TV.  Eventually, though, he leaves, knowing knocking on your door in the middle of the night to fall on his knees and apologize isn’t a realistic option unless he wants you to see just how much he’s falling apart over this.

At some point, you fall asleep, and Sylus covers you up before heading out. Both you and Xavier hope for relief in your dreams, but instead, your dreams are haunted by each other’s presence.

Mai has taken the day off to accompany Sylus on a business deal, and as much as you hate to admit it, you miss her. It would have been nice if Sylus had taken you along instead, leaving her here to make Xavier as miserable as you are.

Once upon a time, the thought of being alone with him on a mission filled you with excitement, practically keeping you awake the night before from sheer nerves. Now, you do your best to ignore him, walking just out of reach.

He kicks a rock, a quiet sigh escaping his lips. “We should head back soon; it’s getting late. We can look for the protocore again tomorrow.”

Guilt bubbles up in you at the melancholy lacing his voice. You nod and gesture toward a nearby Wanderer, saying, “Let’s take that one down and head out.”

The two of you fight seamlessly, your movements flowing together in a rhythm more exquisite than what he shares with Mai—something that seems to stun him every time. Without realizing it, he’s started gravitating toward you during battles, often having to forcibly pull himself back to her side.

A fresh pang of guilt gnaws at him, a feeling of drifting further away from what he’s always believed to be his purpose in life. He feels so lost, and there’s only one direction he longs to run in.

When did you become his guiding star?

The trip home is the most awkward car ride you’ve ever endured, the air thick with unease. You let out a long sigh, adjusting your seat as you turn up the volume on Mozart's Symphony No. 41, the "Jupiter" movement, hoping the music can cut through the oppressive silence. The soothing notes help ease Xavier's anxiety a bit, which in turn allows you to relax as the tension around you fades—if only slightly.

But as he parks in front of your place and kills the engine, the uncomfortable atmosphere returns with full force. Every part of you longs to bolt inside, terrified of the conversation that looms ahead. You know what’s coming. He’ll look at you with those beautiful, earnest eyes and say he’s sorry, genuinely believing it, but that apology will only sharpen the pain. If he genuinely cared, he wouldn’t have put you in harm’s way. If you mattered to him, he would have shown it when it counted.

You look away, remaining still in a silent invitation for him to speak.

His soft voice slices through the tension, murmuring, “I’m so sorry.”

Another wave of silence washes over you, anger surging beneath the surface—a force that takes all your strength to suppress. You shake your head in disbelief, your nails digging into your palms as you seek relief from the emotional turmoil. Pain to drown out the pain.

He notices, gently taking your hand, unfurling your fingers, and placing them back in your lap. Your body responds to his touch, a raw ache begging for more, while a part of you screams in frustration. Shooting him a glare, you cross your arms tightly, fighting against the tears welling up.

“Don’t touch me, Xavier.” Your voice is low and firm—an order that conflicts with the desperate plea of your heart, urging you to draw him closer.

His face falls, shoulders slumping as his hand drops to his lap. “Okay,” he whispers, the hurt in his voice cracking your heart a little more. You reach for him, then quickly pull back.

Searching your face, he pleads, “May I have a moment to explain? I know it won’t help, but—”

You grab your bag, cutting him off. “No need; Sylus took care of it. You chase her across the cosmos, hopelessly in love with someone who doesn’t deserve you. I'm caught up. Thank you for the apology, though. Really,” you say softly, closing the door behind you. As you walk away, you can almost feel the weight of his regret lingering in the air.

A date at Meow’s Cafe, surrounded by adorable miniature cats, should be a delightful experience. Yet today, it feels heavy with the weight of Xavier’s absence. It’s your first time here without him, and everything is off; the playful mews of the kitties have lost their charm, grating on your nerves instead, while the usually vibrant atmosphere feels dull and lifeless.

The man sitting across from you is undeniably attractive, with dark, wavy hair, a chiseled jawline, and a smile that promises excitement and chaos. You can’t help but appreciate the way his fingers linger a moment too long on your skin or the longing glint in his eyes. Yet, the ache of Xavier’s absence lingers, casting a shadow over your attempts to enjoy the moment.

Excusing yourself to the restroom, you scrub your hands, your thoughts lingering on thoughts of him. Just as you’re about to shake the memories away, his soft voice—almost a whisper—brushes against your ear. “Does he play as well as me?”

You can almost feel the tension radiating from him, the palpable mix of frustration and jealousy. Xavier’s emotions swirl around him, creating a glow that’s impossible to ignore. Watching you with someone else, someone who seems to draw you in far too easily, has shattered something within him. 

As you turn, you’re startled to find him standing there, his presence commanding and intense. His cheeks are flushed, his breaths quickening, and his hooded blue eyes betray a storm of feelings: anger, grief, desire, and a potent possessiveness that sends a thrilling shiver down your spine.

You fight to maintain your composure, voice steady as you ask, “What are you doing here?” Tara set this date up for you just yesterday, assuring you that it would help you forget about Xavier. Clearly, that wasn’t going to happen.

He closes the distance between you in a heartbeat, his lips grazing your cheek as he pushes you gently against the wall. For a moment, his tender touch makes you forget all about the boundaries you've set.

“What are you—”

He cups your cheek, kissing you so softly it nearly steals your breath away. “There aren’t words to express how sorry I am,” he murmurs, his forehead resting against yours, thumb brushing away your unshed tears as you stand frozen, torn between pushing him away and kissing him again.

You allow his lips to skim your neck, cursing your body’s betrayal when you feel an intense warmth spread through you at just the brush of his breath on your skin. 

“If I could do it over, I wouldn’t make the same choice,” he confesses, his eyes lifting to meet yours with sincerity. The truth in his words shakes him to his core—given another chance, he would choose you without hesitation.

Reality crashes over you, jarring you from his spell. You pull away, a sad, pitying look crossing your face. “Yes, you really would,” you reply quietly, determination solidifying your resolve as you stride out of the cafe with your date in tow.

Your date's name is Ash, but it feels irrelevant; he’s merely a means to an end, a warm body to help work out your frustrations. A pretty placeholder whose touch you imagine belongs to Xavier—a delicious fantasy until you accidentally murmur Xavier’s name, and the atmosphere grows awkward. 

Left alone, forced to find release on your own. Visions of Xavier’s cock filling you up while his beautiful gaze locks with yours consume your mind. You’re a mess of whimpers, chanting his name in a prayer that fills the stillness of your room as you ride an orgasm so powerful it borders on pain. Despite its overwhelming intensity, it does nothing to ease the ache that demands you give in to him, insisting on your claim in every way possible.

It disgusts you how you can still want someone who causes you so much pain, someone who can never care for you like you care for him. 

Your phone pings, lighting up with a message—from Xavier. He hasn’t texted you since that fateful mission, and you kick yourself at the happiness the sudden communication brings you.

“I can’t stop thinking about you.”

Next, a video comes through, sending your phone flying across the carpet as a shriek leaves you. Your hand claps over your mouth in shock, and you immediately rush to retrieve it, relentless desire flooding you at the image on the screen.

Xavier reclines on a sofa with his legs spread wide, his black button-up open to show off his lean, sculpted form. He frees his cock—so hard it looks painful. He must be super sensitive because the moment his hand wraps around himself, he lets out a needy little whimper that curls your toes.

You wish more than anything to take him in your mouth, to taste the pretty beads of precum that make his movements slick and sloppy.

Your stunned murmur of, “W-what is happening…” sounds so horrified and horny that it's comical.

Your fingers move almost of their own accord, slipping deep inside you to match his rhythm. You prop your phone up so your free hand can trail over your body, pinching and rolling your nipples as your breath quickens alongside his. You hate yourself for every touch, but you can’t stop. Your attention latches onto him and nothing else, unable to look away, even if what’s about to happen ends up ruining you. 

His grip firms instantly as if aware of your reaction, and he strokes himself faster. His head kicks back, his eyes slam shut, and a low groan escapes him. “I’m picturing myself inside you,” he admits, “Imagining laying claim to every inch of your body and soul.”

His gaze pierces through the camera, earnest and pleading, his blue eyes shining with unfathomable need.

“You think I wouldn’t make a different choice if given the chance, but you’re wrong. Besides fucking you, regret is a constant on my mind, relentlessly replaying as I watch myself make the stupidest choice of my life.” He lays his head back again, keeping his eyes on the camera as he languidly strokes himself, continuing, “Centuries of longing for and chasing after Mai, of dedicating my very existence to her, and then you come along and turn my entire world upside down with just a smile. You make me want to give up everything I believe in to be with you.”

His words trail off as his movements become frantic. With an incoherent mumble, he says, “I bet you’re so tight… so warm. Are you wet for me, angel? I hope so… W-will you cum with me?” The plea in his voice is unmistakable.

You whimper, nodding frantically, your pussy squeezing your fingers as his filthy words spur you on.

Your gaze flits over his body, unable to settle as your pleasure builds. He’s so pretty—his face flushed, sweat beading on his skin, his cerulean eyes burning bright. A whiny, needy repetition of your name leaves his lips as cum covers his hand and stomach, sending you hurtling into your own release.

Shame fills you when the pleasure subsides. His face moves closer to the camera, and he softly murmurs, “I really miss you,” effectively ripping your heart out and stomping on it before the video cuts off, an unsettling silence filling the air. You want to scream and cry, and most frustratingly, you want a second round with the most significant thing ever filmed.

A sudden realization hits you, and you groan, stuffing your face into a pillow with a muted scream. Work tomorrow is going to be so awkward.

Thank the gods your car is finally back from the shop. An immense sense of relief washes over you, knowing you won’t have to endure another ride with Xavier after what happened last night—or, possibly even worse, with Mai.

However, that relief quickly evaporates as you arrive at work and see Xavier striding toward you. He boldly brushes your hair back and leans in close, whispering, “Did you enjoy yourself last night? I know I did,” his smile warm and inviting.

He takes your chin and tilts your face, his voice soft as he confesses, “I’ve never felt so good. Not even at the thought of Mai.” You squeak in surprise, instinctively pulling away.

Xavier has decided he’s done fighting his feelings for you. The hesitation about the changes this could bring to his life—and the guilt that comes with it—is gone. He wants you more than anything, and now he’s determined to show you just how much.

As you walk side by side on patrol, his soft voice fills the air with light-hearted musings and playful teasing, yet you constantly remind yourself why you must keep your distance.

Meanwhile, Mai glares daggers from behind, trying desperately to distract Xavier at every opportunity. She attempts to hold his hand at one point, batting her lashes with a cute little pout. But he quickly pulls away, brushes your arm tenderly, and continues walking by your side. 

A warmth spreads in your heart, and you can’t help but worry about how easily he’s breaking down the walls you’ve built around yourself.

Mai’s cheerful voice grates on Xavier’s nerves as he struggles to finish his paperwork for the day. The office is empty now, and he’s itching to leave, his mind consumed with thoughts of seeing you.

Mai pulls up a chair, pretending to help him, but her true intentions are clear when she rests her hand on his thigh, continuing to write as if it’s the most natural thing. Her fingers begin their creeping ascent, and Xavier’s heart races. His body locks up, and anxiety rises as the ability to breathe leaves him. 

Mai has always been flirty, something he used to find endearing, even if it was just a ruse to keep him coming back for more. But this was more than suggestive flirtation. When she presses her lips to his for the first time, she sighs as if kissing him brings her true joy.

How many times has he longed for this? Centuries of wishing for this moment—and he feels nothing at all. 

Xavier pulls back with a pained expression, searching her beautiful eyes. He makes no move to stop her, testing how he truly feels. After so much effort and heartbreak over wanting, no, needing this and Mai, he has to be sure before giving it all up.

Her fingers trail delicately over his abs and chest. He lets her kiss him again; this time, Xavier kisses back, trying to coax out some emotion other than this empty void. Kisses trail his skin as she frees his cock, only to pull back in disbelief when she feels his lack of arousal.

He watches her with detachment as she strokes him, pouting when he remains limp in her hand. Gently stopping her as she moves to take him into her mouth, he says, “I can’t do this anymore,” his voice soft but resolute, as a weight lifts from his shoulders.

Mai narrows her eyes, her mask slipping momentarily as she murmurs, “Xavier, you don’t truly want her. You’re just so pent up after all these years that anyone will do,” her veil of teasing returns as she leans closer, urging, “Let me help. This is what you’ve always wanted, right?” 

She frees her breasts from her tank top, squeezing and tugging enticingly. This isn’t the girl he fell in love with—the gentle, kind soul that captured his heart so long ago. Over her lifetimes, she’s become cold and cruel, the alluring brightness in her eyes dimming with time. Xavier realizes he’s been chasing someone who no longer exists, a profound grief washing over him.

Taking out his phone, he finds a picture of you and shows it to Mai as she scowls. Pushing her hand away, he murmurs, “You have no idea what I want. Watch.”

Gazing at your smiling face on the screen, he begins stroking his cock, becoming painfully hard within moments, lust shadowing his features. Mai’s eyes burn with genuine desire and jealousy, but he feels nothing for her.

Tucking himself back into his boxers and fixing his pants, he asks, “Did you throw yourself in front of that Wanderer to lure me into saving you?” This question has nagged him whenever the scene replays in his mind. 

He’s almost certain Mai wasn’t near you when he began the battle, only to find her next to you when the Wanderer attacked. The chaos made it difficult for him to be sure.

The answer becomes clear when Mai clears her throat, quickly glancing away. Nervousness plays on her features as Xavier takes on a chilling demeanor, standing and collecting his paperwork with meticulous movements. Any remaining connection to her ignites and burns away as he regards her coldly, fighting hard to maintain his composure. 

“I’ll be requesting a transfer for both her and myself. In the meantime, don’t even look in her direction,” Xavier says, his calm tone carrying an underlying warning: there will be consequences if she crosses the boundary he’s setting. Adjusting her top, shame, and embarrassment on her features, Mai watches as Xavier turns and walks away. 

Your phone pings as you slip into an oversized T-shirt, and the screen lights up with a message from Sylus: “Looks like you won the game, dove. My money was on you all along,” complete with a celebratory champagne bottle emoji.

What the heck is that supposed to mean? 

You’re about to hit the call button to get an explanation when a knock at the door reveals a rain-soaked Xavier. His eyes light with relief upon seeing you. You let him in, grabbing a towel and doing your best to help him dry off, earning a gentle smile as you fluff his hair. 

“Are you okay?” you ask, pulling away and searching his face.

His fingers brush your cheek tenderly as he nods and says, “If I were to ask you to leave Linkon with me, what would you say?”

Your eyes widen as you sputter, “Um, I—like for the day?” 

He gives you a rare, genuine smile, then chuckles as he replies, “No. Like forever. Together.” He kisses you tenderly and nuzzles your nose. “We can start over somewhere new,” he whispers earnestly.

You want to believe such a thing is possible, but doubt lingers, pulling you away from his embrace. “Xavier… you don’t mean that. Mai—” 

“Is no longer part of my life,” he finishes. Gripping you by the waist and drawing you closer, he tilts your head to meet his gaze.“I don’t care how long it takes to prove it to you. I’m a very patient man,” he murmurs.

“How exactly do you plan to prove it to me?” you ask, your voice low and sensual, surprising even yourself.

You adore the way Xavier’s eyes heat up when he hears it. He hums softly, his lips brushing your ear while one arm holds you close, his fingers tracing down your arm to entwine with yours. When he kisses you this time, your body aches to melt against his, but you stand your ground, determined to make him fight for it. His tongue gently explores your mouth, groaning as he tastes you fully, cupping your cheek and deepening the kiss.

He pulls back and studies you, his thumb grazing your lips, admiring how they glisten as he spreads the moisture around. “So pretty…” he murmurs, his mouth skimming the soft skin under your ear, teeth grazing lightly, sending shivers through your body.

His brows scrunch in a pout as he reaches for your hands that hang limply at your sides, “Why won’t you touch me?” he asks, hurt evident in his tone.

“I’m not sure you deserve it yet,” you mumble, crossing your arms and turning away.

“I see,” he says with a hint of amusement.

Slowly, his touch travels under your shirt, teasing your nipple with light sweeps of his thumb. His mouth and hands explore every inch of your skin he can reach, worshiping you so delicately it takes your breath away. 

“Xavier?”

“Hmm?”

“I want to see you,” you admit, nervousness spilling into your voice.

Xavier’s throat bobs as he nods, his eyes never leaving yours as he sheds his clothing. At first, he’s hesitant, afraid you may not like what you see.

It’s a silly fear since he’s the most perfect thing you’ve ever seen. Lean and slender, his body is honed by centuries of combat, the faint scars on his pale skin testifying to trials overcome. Your hungry eyes catch on his cock, so long and pretty that you moan quietly, just thinking about how good it would feel to take it.

The look of pure longing on your face instantly eases Xavier’s insecurities. His thumb sweeps over his cock, gathering beads of precum before he holds it to your mouth, a plea evident in his eyes. You want to remain strong, but the desire to taste him overpowers you. You suck it clean, your eyes fluttering shut with a sigh. His cock twitches eagerly as a strangled “fuckk, angel” escapes him, his thumb pumping deeply into your mouth as he bites his puffy lip. 

“May I see you too?” he asks quietly, fingers tracing the hem of your shirt. You nod and let him pull it off, fighting the urge to cover yourself as your nipples perk in the chilly air. The way his gaze travels your body is so sensual and awe-filled that it’s almost devastating.

His hands tangle in your hair as he tilts your head, his kiss far more profound than any before. He presses you against the wall, trailing kisses down your stomach and along your inner thighs before pulling your shorts down. A groan escapes him when he sees your bare pussy. 

Instantly, he thumbs open your folds, dragging long, languid fingers through your heat before holding his hand up for you to see. “So wet,” he murmurs, rubbing it around and watching it stick to his fingers. “Is this all for me? he asks, wonder filling his voice. 

You nod, whimpering pitifully as he licks them clean, his eyes shutting in ecstasy at your taste. A desperate curse leaves him as he commands,  “Spread your legs then; I can’t let any go to waste.” You do as he says, whimpering again as his fingers trace delicate circles over your clit. “You’ve done so well for me, angel… practically dripping. You’ll feel amazing like this.” Then his tongue is deep in your cunt, eagerly lapping up your arousal with a deep groan against your skin that shocks your entire system. 

Your fingers tangle in his hair without hesitation, holding his face firmly in place as you grind against it. His straight nose brushes your clit with every turn of your hips, sending waves of pleasure through you. He kneels before you, and his gaze is unwavering as he slips a finger inside you, his lips and teeth teasing your slick, warm skin. Xavier loves how puffy your clit gets under his mouth and how sensitive you are to even the slightest of his touches.

He yearns to be closer to you, to be enveloped in your warmth and your scent as you cum in his mouth. Guiding you to the couch, he lies down and motions for you to come closer. “Use my face,” he commands softly, his voice laden with desire as he finishes. “I want to enjoy my meal.”

He eases you over him, his mouth inhaling you eagerly. Growing frustrated that you won’t put all your weight on him, he pushes you down so your pussy lands flush on his face. “Good girl,” he mumbles against you, urging your hips along. At first, you’re concerned about his ability to breathe, but the worry quickly vanishes as he teases your nipples and plays with your ass.

He whimpers as your fingers finally begin to trace his skin, his hips making needy pumps into the air, desperately seeking friction. Your touches are so tender, your gaze full of adoration, and a giddy smile spreads across your face at the sight of his slick-covered features.

You run your hands lovingly through his hair, the look on your face causing him to fall apart. He lets out a strangled cry that vibrates through your pussy as his cum covers his stomach. He sucks your clit harder, fingers pumping into you rapidly as you ride his face.

“Yes, yes, yess!” you shout, hand gripping his hair tightly while the other reaches around to play in his essence, coating his sensitive, twitching cock as he whimpers quietly. You can’t find it in yourself to feel ashamed as you turn into an absolute slut above him. It’s just so deliciously indecent. 

He’s so sticky from his release, shimmering with sweat and the faint glow of his evol. His face and ears are flushed, your essence covering his mouth and chin. He gazes up at you with so much desire as you bring your soaked fingers to your mouth, tasting them slowly.

The moment he feels your tight walls flutter around his fingers at his taste, he replaces them with his tongue, devouring every bit of your cunt. Even after he cleans all your cum, he refuses to stop. He pulls you tighter against him, forcing your hips to move until you whine and tremble uncontrollably above him.

“T-too much, Xavier, pleasee,” you mumble desperately, tugging at his hair. He chuckles softly and sits up, letting you rest. You settle on his lap as he leans back against the sofa, giving you a gentle smile, his lips still wet and shiny. Your touch is uninhibited now, free from hesitation as your fingers map his skin. 

He’s so responsive. Just the gentlest of touches elicit the most adorable, most sensual sounds. Your fingers ghost over a perked nipple, earning a strangled groan in return. His head kicks, and his hands form tight fists as he tries to show restraint.

You meet his eyes, your voice soft as you ask, ‘Xavier… have you ever felt truly cared for and cherished before?” 

You want to cry and rage when he blushes and turns away, whispering “no” as pain briefly crosses his features. 

Cupping his face, you kiss him tenderly, savoring the taste of yourself on his lips. “I promise, you’ll never have to spend another day without knowing how loved you are,” you vow earnestly.

His eyes widen in surprise as he silently mouths the word “love,” as if trying to see how it feels on his tongue. “No one’s ever said that word to me before,” he admits quietly.

You smile gently, meeting his gaze. “Well, try saying it out loud next time. You need to get used to it.” Your lips find his again, gentle and searching, conveying all the emotions too scary to put into words just yet. You bite and suck at his neck, teasing relentlessly when his body betrays how good it feels. 

You work a faint mark on his collarbone, admiring it with a brush of your fingers as you quietly ask, “Are you really all mine?” Your awe-filled gaze meets his. He pulls you close, cupping the nape of your neck and murmuring, “Yes,” against your lips. A smile lights up your face, mirrored by his beaming expression as he witnesses your joy.

“You are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” he says earnestly, brushing your hair over your shoulder.

You roll your eyes with a teasing grin and mumble, “Don’t push it,” before silencing his words by pressing your tongue into his mouth. He pulls away after a moment, biting his lip as he forces himself to be gentle, playing with your breasts. Little tugs and pinches over one nipple while the other hand traces your curves.

It’s not nearly enough.

“I won’t break, Xavier. You need to do it harder,” you plead, frustration filling your voice.  Your plea is soon replaced with a surprised, strangled cry when he murmurs, “Yes, mam,” and stuffs his mouth full, biting and sucking roughly.

His touch turns rougher, too. His fingers squeeze your ass so hard they’ll surely leave marks, complimenting the bruise blooming on the swell of your breast. 

“All mine,” he says, meeting your eyes with a teasing, confident smile as he echoes your earlier sentiment. You squeak in surprise as he grabs your thighs and presses down, sliding you along his cock, using your pussy to smear his cum around, soaking your heat and thighs in slickness.

You take over, hips moving faster, desperately seeking more of the pleasure he’s bringing you. 

“You’re so soft and warm…” you murmur dreamily, ruining him when you finish with a whimper of, “Gonna feel so good filling me up,” before burying your face in his neck as you move against him.

“Can I put it in? Please?” he begs, lifting your ass just enough to rub circles with his leaking tip at your entrance. He’s trembling, holding back the urge to fuck you roughly. Instead of answering, you lower yourself onto him, wincing as his cock stretches you open. 

He can’t take his eyes away from where you join, watching you drip down his length as he delicately rubs your clit, his eyebrows scrunched up in an adorable expression of concentration. 

“Does it hurt?’ he asks, noticing your quiet gasp of pain as you take him halfway. You nod, whimpering slightly. He leans up to kiss you, pressing down on your bottom lip and tilting your chin to meet your blissed-out gaze. “You’re still so tight, angel. I’ll open you up better next time, I promise.” He nuzzles your nose, trying to distract you from the pain as he pushes in deeper.“Can you take it for me? I-i’m almost there,” he says, his eyes trickling back down to where you suck him in.

Pleasure begins to mix seamlessly with the pain, and you don’t bother to respond, your eyes rolling back as a sigh of ecstasy leaves you. Xavier takes that as a yes and gently presses you down until he bottoms out. Desire begins to overwhelm his features as he watches your essence mix with his at the base of his cock.

He searches your eyes, kissing you softly and murmuring, “How does it feel?” 

“Honestly? Nothing has ever felt so good. So full…” you mumble, starting a slow, torturous cycle of movements. You pull him out to the tip before letting him fill you up again, over and over, until the moment comes when he finally allows himself to let go. He presses you flush against him and pushes deep inside you, setting his own much more intense pace. He spanks your ass with an adorable smile, his blue eyes shining with joy. 

You eagerly match his movements, chanting, “Harder, Xavier! Harder!” You squeal happily when he flips you onto your back, throwing your legs above your head and fucking you so much harder. A mirthful smile appears on his face as his cock pierces deep inside you, forcing out a raw, strangled cry of pleasure. Pleasure builds and crashes in an instant, your pussy gripping and pulsing so tightly around him that he can barely breathe.

“That’s it, baby, cum all over me,” he praises, stroking your clit in time with his thrusts. His pace quickens, helping you ride your release. Sloppy sounds fill the air as you spill over him, spurring him on. He grips your hips tight to keep you from sliding as he fucks into you relentlessly.

“Such a good girl. You can give me another one, can’t you?” he murmurs, his weight pressing down on you, pushing his cock even deeper than before. The soft, pale hair trailing from his pelvis rubs your clit just right. His moves are deliberate, urging you to come again with a sharp cry as tears fill your eyes and your body starts to tremble. 

He kisses your cheek, his movements never slowing. “So perfect for me… Just one more, angel,” he whispers, making pointed thrusts into your g-spot over and over and over until you spill all over him again. 

He can’t seem to stop. Every orgasm he pulls from you only makes him more desperate and needy. “So fucking wet… you have no idea how good you feel,” he mumbles incoherently, burying his face in your neck and bringing you to release again just from the feeling of his warm mouth on your skin and his filthy words. 

“T-too much, Xavier, I can’t! Please!” You’re sobbing and overstimulated—a sensitive, weak mess. 

“Shh. It’s okay… It’ll be over soon. You want to show me how much you love me, right?” His tone is teasing, but the sincerity in his eyes tells you your answer means a lot to him. 

Tears fall harder as he kisses you, and you manage to choke out a strangled “yes.” 

“I know you do,” he says tenderly. His tongue pries open your mouth and softly commands, “Swallow,” as he spits into it. 

Blushing deeply,  you follow his instructions, moaning in ecstasy at the taste, which earns a pleased hum from him. He tugs on your bottom lip, admiring your blissful expression and the tears tracing your cheeks. His praises continue, bringing you closer and closer to the edge again. 

“Such a pretty little angel, following my instructions so well.” Another orgasm approaches alarmingly fast, feeling almost too powerful, and you wonder if your body can withstand it. Xavier seems to read your mind because he mumbles, “You can,” before fucking you even harder. 

You squirt so much that it pulls out a strangled, “Fuck, yes. You’re doing so fucking well…” from him as his cock squelches around inside you. “I–i can’t hold out much longer. You… you feel too good,” he admits softly against your lips.

 “Please, Xavier... Please cum for me, i–i’ll do anything,” you plead, needing to feel claimed by him more than you can express. Wrapping your legs around his waist, you murmur, “Do you want to finish inside?” pulling him as close as you can. 

He whimpers at your words, cradling your head against his chest as his cock continues to fuck into you mercilessly. The moment his hips stutter and he sinks into you with one last, deep thrust, his cum spills inside of you, and he captures your lips in the most tender kiss you’ve ever felt. Despite reaching his climax, he doesn’t stop. His cock pistons into you with renewed force.

With fierce determination, he pulls one final orgasm from you, his movements gradually slowing as you ride through it. As soon as he pulls back and looks at your ruined form beneath him, lust clouds his features, and his cock hardens again. Anxiety hits you over the state of your more-than-abused pussy, and you whine, “Noo, Xavier—just let me take care of you for a little while. ’m too sensitive.” 

He chuckles, scooping you up in his arms and resting back on the couch. You try to fight the arousal his hardened length pressing against your ass brings. He meets your gaze, kissing you softly and holding you close as your heartbeats grow steady. He peppers your face with gentle, searching kisses. 

“Earlier, I asked you how you felt about leaving Linkon with me,” he says, tucking hair behind your ear as nervousness plays on his face. 

“Mhmm; the forever trip,” you murmur dreamily. 

He smiles softly, meeting your gaze, and asks, “So, what’s your answer?” 

You nuzzle his nose and answer earnestly, “I’ll follow you anywhere, Xavier. Just lead the way.”

A month later, you wake up before dawn to find Sylus’s face just inches from yours, a wry grin on his lips as he glances at Xavier sleeping beside you. “I took your key away specifically to prevent this kind of thing,” you hiss, careful not to wake Xavier as you untangle yourself from his limbs and quietly climb out of bed.

You gently brush his hair back, marveling at how his smile lingers even in sleep now. The melancholy that once plagued him for centuries has vanished, replaced by a serenity brought by your affection. He often tells you that you make him feel truly happy and free for the first time in his life. 

After pulling on a robe, you follow Sylus to the kitchen, halting in your tracks when you see a brand-new laptop on the counter. “Sy, what did you do?” you ask hesitantly, eyeing the device with suspicion. He rolls his eyes and motions toward it.

“What does it look like, sweetie?” he retorts, as if that clears everything up.

“Why did you buy me a laptop, Sylus? You know I don’t like gifts…” you start, but he quickly interrupts.

“Well, you should have thought about that when you decided to move several hours away from me,” he replies. You can sense he’s happy for you and Xavier, but there’s a hint of struggle with this change in your relationship.

Drawing him close, you pinch his cheeks, enjoying the irritated glare he gives you. “You’re my best friend, Sylus. I’m not just going to up and leave you after all these years,” you assure him, giving his nose a gentle boop before turning away.

He chuckles, relaxing a fraction as he ruffles your hair and then refocuses on the task at hand. “I bought you the best one on the market. They assured me it has an excellent camera—I need to ensure that my pretty face comes through crystal clear during our video chats,” he says with a teasing grin.

“Ah, I almost forgot,” he adds, casually pulling a new, shiny smartphone from his pocket and handing it to you. “Both this and the laptop come with a tracking system that alerts me immediately if anything seems off,” he assures you, gently grasping your chin to meet your gaze. “Never hesitate to reach out for my help or just for company. I’m here for you, no matter how far away you are. Got it, dove?”

You want to tease him for being so serious, but his sincerity makes it difficult. It’s a rare and precious thing from him. With a gentle smile and tears welling up in your eyes, you pull him in for a tight hug. He freezes for a moment in surprise, but then his arms wrap around you, a smile spreading across his face as he swings you around.

When your feet settle back on the floor, the sadness has melted from his features. “The laptop has top-notch sound specs, too, so I can still sing to you when you’re feeling down,” he reassures you. It takes considerable effort to suppress the grimace that threatens to break your mask of enthusiasm.

Sylus lets out a low, knowing chuckle, easily seeing through you. “Hopefully, you’ll be able to fake that better over video,” he muses.

You grin and look around your empty home, excitement coursing through you. The transfer request with the Hunter’s Association went through almost immediately, and Xavier found a charming cottage with a small farm, plenty of bookshelves, and just enough room for the two of you. Sylus can’t help but smile at your evident joy. “Today’s the big day,” he teases.

You nod, your grin widening as he raises an eyebrow and offers a suggestive head toss. “You should wake your precious hunter now. You’ve got a lot to do,” he says.

Giggling, you pull him down to plant a kiss on his cheek, earning a blush that makes you laugh even harder. Then, you dash off to wake Xavier.

[yandereunsolved]

Yandere Castiel taking care of his traumatized darling—my darling, oh, my darling. I'll keep you safe as the day is long.

cw(s): yandere themes, misuse of the term boundaries and overstepping them, non-descriptive gore and murder, mentions of anxiety/panic attacks, trauma, and self-harm

🪽 He has known about the scars left on your soul far longer than you have even known his name. They are sacred to him, a reminder of the protection you need. The protection he casts over you. His wings are not merely his, but yours. He would allow them to be torn to shreds for the rest of eternity if it meant keeping you safe.

Your soul, the thing of most import that is intangible to humans but seen as precious to all other creatures. It is always watched over by his eyes. Even in the most dire moments, he chooses you above all else. God, his brothers and sisters, even the Winchesters pale in comparison to you. You are his freedom. 

Freedom is a length of rope in his eyes. He will never allow you to hang yourself with it.

🪽 He tames his fervid nature in favor of an affable, benevolent one. The sin consuming him is washed away in your presence. In those moments, he is back to what he once was: a pure, untaintable guardian. A gentle presence just within your reach if you so choose to delight him with your touch.

Yandere Castiel may lack knowledge on the concept of boundaries, but they quickly learn about them through your reaction to them. He feels your soul flare in a protective manner. You sink away from him and shut down. That is the opposite reaction he wishes to get from you.

Dictionary... a dictionary...

He had to look through it to find the word.

( Boundaries • The border or limit so indicated. )

🪽 He has to learn to communicate with you about boundaries. That word, now that word is lost on him. Eons he has been an angel, and this type of communication has never been a priority. Boundaries has never been a word that existed up in heaven. You got an order, and you followed it. He never thought, even after rebelling, that he got to choose such things.

He seemingly moved from one master to another. He mindlessly followed his father's orders, then the Winchesters, then his own selfish desires. He never consciously chose; his hand was always forced.

At least he is able to communicate using his true voice. You are one of the few that aren't pushed to the brink of death by his voice.

He is more frightened of these conversations than you are. He always gives you the space to say what you need. He'll try to coax it out of you, but he is always able to read your mind if that doesn't work. He is aware that reading your mind without your consent is breaking one of your boundaries—but you don't know! And he is just trying to help you.

🪽 'Personal space' is the boundary he likes the least. It is of great import that he respects that boundary, but it just feels impossible! He wants to be near you all of the time, watch you, and guard you. When you want more space from him, it hurts. His wings droop, but he understands. He will stand on the other side of the room or leave if you really need him to. 

Humans need their space.

That is one of the first things they learned when interacting with them.

Their favorite boundaries of yours are any where they are able to help you with their angelic abilities. Whether that be helping to stimulate you properly through toning down sounds and sights or getting to mercilessly torture people who hurt you behind your back. It gives him a solitary purpose. He is able to help you on your healing journey.

He is a good angel. He's your good angel!

🪽 Castiel also comes to understand anxiety. It's that thing he feels everytime—no, just all the time, when something pertains to you.

He sees how it creeps into your mind and causes your soul to nearly deplete into embers. He has been the one who has had to hold you during panic attacks. He has had to calm you when something triggers you. Oh, the wrath he has had to hold back to whatever has hurt you in such a way. Castiel, your Cas, will always take care of you.

They soothe you through their grace and willingness to be with you.

One of his wings is always guiding you gingerly, as long as you have consented.

Your sins are all erased under his guise.

You are blameless in his eyes. A saint.

Do not fear people nor ancient entities.

For you are blessed by one.

🪽 He does not want any voices to mislead you from his safety. Please, do not harm yourself. He loves you far too much. Any scar of yours is kissed by his doting lips, as long as you consent, and is healed by his grace. They should not be shameful but signs of pride. You have survived things many others haven't. While angels on high mourn their loss, he praises your survival.

He keeps all of your safety items near when you are upset. He is easily able to conjure up anything you may need at a moments notice. He loves decorating you with pretty band-aids, stickers, and little doodles—as long as you allow it. Cas is incredibly good at distractions, even if he is a bit awkward with the more risqué ones.

Feel free to let your anger out on him. You cannot do any noticeable damage to him. Of course, if you somehow got ahold of an angel blade, they would have to disarm you. Other than that? Feel free to do anything.

Just don't turn that turmoil inward. They won't allow it.

🪽 They want you safe and healthy. Healing isn't linear, as they have learned. He loves you even more for it. In a way, you are able to heal them. They are no longer this internal, fractured being. They are a guardian once again. They are a lover. They are yours.

"Iubebit enim angelis suis de te custodire te omnibus modis vestris." Ille, si modo bonus est, patrem suum fecit.₁

1 | "For he will command his angels concerning you to guard you in all your ways." The one, if only good, point his father has made. |

[scorndotexe]

you can have a fucked up codependent dynamic with someone without even having mouths to say fucked up things to each other, just look at scorn guy and his parasite

[countlessimagines]

Your World [ Wolverine x Reader ]

Summary: your Wolverine was your whole world.

A/N: I like writing angsty stuff and this movie provided me with the best possible scenarios <3 hehehe I love wolverine

Warnings: Cussing, mentions of blood

Marvel MASTERLIST Link here

SPOILERS BELOW

-

It wasn’t an ideal love story that brought you back to Logan.

Being a mutant with incredible healing abilities and a broken heart made it so easy for Stryker to capture you. Your Wolverine had been the one to rescue you from the clutches of Stryker and the horrible fate that loomed over your head. All the days of experiments and cold rooms where you’d be injected with who knows what, it all lead to him.

But you always had to remind yourself that Logan had gotten you out, made you a X-Men, but found the brutal truth of how dangerous it was to be loved by you.

You loved deeply and endlessly, like a void waiting for eternity to be loved and to love. Logan was exactly what your heart desired for years.

Someone who could never die, never leave you.

Fighting alongside each other became a beautiful symphony. And God protect anyone who caused you harm, because Logan would only see red and slice them to pieces. It was a miracle none of the X-men had been torn to shreds, but Scott always came close.

The team would always joke about your relationship, saying how could an innocent soul be in love with such a brute like Wolverine.

But Logan knew the only way he could breathe was to be with you, to hold you, to kiss and love you.

He would always find his way to you no matter the circumstance.

Beast was holding you in the infirmary because he wanted to run tests? Logan was there.

Storm and Jean wanted to have a girls night? Logan was sitting outside the room in case anything happened.

Scott was training you in hand to hand combat? Logan was definitely there.

Your world consisted of him and him only.

And maybe that is why it hurt so much when he let your entire team die, because you had not made them your whole world.

You had been away on a mission by yourself when you received the news of their passing. You returned to a bloodied home, no sign of Wolverine to be found.

Life began to blur after what happened. You had to go into hiding, because people blamed you for what happened, too. And there was no one there to stop you from spiraling into a flurry of self hatred.

Hatred for what you had become. A love sick puppy so consumed with Logan only. Maybe if you had been there, maybe if you hadn’t put so much trust in him, maybe if you could have taken the hits for your team.

And the thought that stuck with you the most, if you had been there, screaming for help - would Logan had only saved you and left the rest to die?

Because the love you shared was slowly becoming so obvious to you that it was not pure or natural, but rather so simple it would have made you and Logan public enemy number one.

But you supposed that had already happened, too.

Your mutant abilities were the only thing you had left, so you consumed yourself in underground work. Becoming exactly what the X-men had fought against.

Shedding your uniform, you had to separate yourself from the X-men because people recognized you too easily. It was hard to find any work where people wanted a tainted mutant.

You tried your hardest to not let every moment be consumed by the thought of Logan. He had never reached out to you after the event, despite the grief between you so overwhelmingly strong. He couldn’t face you and love someone who would have stepped through hell and back for him.

He felt as if he didn’t deserve it.

So time continued to pass as the bond between the two of you was severed so deeply that it was suffocating to be apart.

But it wasn’t until Deadpool showed up to your apartment that you were finally addressing your past.

“Leave, now. I’m not hearing any of your bullshit.” You tried to close your door but he stopped it.

“Please, c’mon. I need you! Wolverine needs you!”

You tensed at the mere mention of him. “If he needed me so desperately, it is far too late for him to come back.”

“But you’re his one and only, for fuck’s sake! Every variant I’ve met of him has had a you stalking around like a lap dog. You know how many of you’s have beaten the shit out of me?” He rambled on, and you rolled your eyes.

“I don’t care to understand what you’re saying, so goodbye, Wade!”

Deadpool sighed before kicking the door in and stabbing you through the chest with one of his blades. You stared at him in shock and couldn’t register anything as he flung you over his shoulder into an orange portal.

You landed on a hard ground that pushed the blade out of you. “Wade, you’re a dead man.”

He stepped through the portal and leaned over your body. “Sorry about that, but I can’t die so you’re stuck with not only me, but Wolverine!”

Deadpool giggled and ran off, making sure to rip the blade out of your stomach. You winced but felt your regeneration cells working to stitch you back together.

Slowly sitting up, you spat out blood.

“I tried to tell him not to bring you into this.”

You froze at the voice you fought to forget, willing calm into your fast beating heart.

Sitting up fully only made your legs wobble and your head spin. But you had to look up into the eyes of the man you still loved.

Logan looked different, healthier and happier. It only made you feel sick.

“I’ve been busy.” He said it so casually that it made you want to slap his chest for the lack of greeting. “Wade gave me a second chance. I helped save his world.”

“You haven’t seen me in years and you choose to brag?” You scoffed, removing your shirt to assess the damage Wade had done to your shirt.

Logan sucked in a breath as he took in your battle worn scars. Despite your healing factor, you still kept every scar from every wound you had endured.

He remembered the last time he saw you, you only adorned a few on your chest and stomach.

Now it was littered with them.

“You’ve been busy too, I gather?” Logan said with a hint of sarcasm.

You glared at him. “Why am I here?”

“Wade thought that I needed you.” He admitted it with such ease, like he knew it to be true in his heart.

“And? Do you need me?”

He hesitated before answering. “I’ve always needed you… and I think that’s why I let myself go for so many years. Because I knew that no matter what I did or said to you, you would never forgive me. I would always be the one who let our team die… let you go.”

“Well you’re right, because I never would forgive you. Not after abandoning all of us,” you choked out, the tears beginning to creep into the corners of your eyes. “I loved you fiercely, Logan. All it would have taken was one call during those first few days and I would have been there for you. We could’ve been healing together. But you chose this life of despair for both of us, Logan.”

“I know.” He said, his own eyes watering.

“I despise you.” You said, but your heart was breaking, letting out the true feelings. It was bleeding for him and for him only.

Logan stepped closer and you did not stop him.

“I want nothing to do with you.” You said, your voice cracking.

“I understand.” He said, five feet away from you now.

“I hate you.” You began to weep, the blood in your heart revealing what you wanted truly.

“I don’t blame you.” Logan closed the gap between the two of you, holding you close to his chest. You cried into his shoulder, holding on for dear life. “I’m never leaving you again.”

All you could muster was a small nod, your tears staining his shirt. His own were dripping onto the top of your head.

And in the empty apartment, you and Logan stood, holding onto each other.

Holding your world together.

[roeverthemoon]

.

[mythophosfox]

Blade x Abundance!reader

Word Count͟͟͞͞➳❥ 1.9k (One-Shot)

Reader is gender neutral // Not proofread

A/N͟͟͞͞➳❥English is not my first language so I apologize for any grammar errors. The reader follows the path of abundance, and their origins can be up to interpretation. Have fun imagining yourself a backstory ;). This is more or less a test for a concept I've boiled up in my brain.

Cw ➳❥ Possible OOC, Mild body Horror, abrupt ending, illness, mention of pain, Soft, wholesome, SFW, vague on purpose.

Summary ➳❥ Blade meets you, a follower of the abundance, during one of his Mara crises. You heal him and leave leaving only your name. Who are you, he ponders. Once he finds himself desperate, he whispers your name.

Blade sat on the floor,  hidden inside an abandoned merchant stall on the Loafu—his body tenses, the mara ever so threateningly consuming his mind. He hisses at the pain, holding back a groan from the intoxicating pain. Unable to move, run, or call Kafka for help. In these moments, even he couldn't help but to feel desperation. Maybe it’ll finally eat him alive this time, letting him meet his long-awaited end. His eyes closed. Corrupted memories and faded voices calling to him, a stabbing pain piercing the remains of his bruised lonely heart. Only the hope of death lay dryly on his tongue. Blade felt joy as his conscience faded into the dark, his body limping on the floor.

Blade could only hear the ringing in his ears until the thumping of footsteps appeared close to him. A light hand places itself on his shoulder. The unsupportable pain starts to vanish from his body, spreading from the singular light touch. The memories fade, freeing him from their strain. Blade lifts his head in a daze, vision foggy from his symptoms. He sees someone crouched next to him, their hand still placed on his shoulder. The person smiles at him softly. Throughout his body, gladioli buds start to sprout. The sprouts grow on his scars, lessening their pain. His mara calms, freeing his mind to think clearly again. The fog in his eyes dissipates, now able to see you fully. He suddenly winces out of your touch, backing away from you with sharp threatening eyes. You quickly bring your hand back to yourself. 

-’’ My apologies, I mean no harm.’’ You spurt out, attempting to calm him. 

Blade only stares at you with intensity, his face back to a neutral state.  A  deep groan escapes his lips. He considered knocking you out, unwilling to uselessly harm someone for an escape, but he quickly realized how dissipated his mara felt. His eyes widen, witnessing the bourgeons and flowers spread around his torn muscles. How did you-- Abundance? Even so- how was it so effective? His gaze wanders back to you as you innocently stare back.

-’’ You should be feeling better for a few.’’ You chirped softly, standing back up on your feet. ‘’ I need to move, Good day.’’ 

-’’ Wait!’’ 

As you turn your back, Blade mindlessly takes hold of your wrist. You turn back, surprised by the man’s sudden outburst. Blade didn’t know what he was doing, maybe he was losing his mind even more. His grip loosens, but you don’t pull your hand back.

-’’ How-’’ He shuddered. -’’ y/n’’ 

His mouth is agape as you cut him off. He quickly swallows his tongue. 

-’’ If you ever need me again, call my name.’’ You state as if it was a simple fact. 

You free yourself from his grip gently before walking away from the premises, disappearing within the simulated horizon of the Loafu. Blade watches your figure disappear, his normal expression back on his face. He didn’t know you, nor did he care about you. He was simply lucky, and you were foolish. Why would he ever remember your name?   

…

Weeks later, Blade lays in his bed at the stellaron hunter’s base. His mara is acting up, making him twist and turn on his futon. His covers are thrown off the futon as his body feels too hot to sustain it. He finally lays on his back, exhausted and restless. He breathes heavily, sweat sliding off his muscles, wetting his bandaged chest. It stings, leaving him breathless for only a moment every few seconds. His trousers are drenched, sticking uncomfortably on his legs. His eyes blur as he stares at the ceiling. Memories flood his weakened mind, making him clench his fists until his fingernails pierce through his skin. The pain is unbearable, consuming him once more like it always was. Groans escapes his lips every few minutes, unable to control the debilitating feeling throughout his ill body. As Blade feels his consciousness fade, something flashes in his mind. A recent memory, a word, a name. He fought the need to say it. His pride unwilling to do something so pathetic. A sudden sting causes him to groan loudly as he barred his teeth in thin air. Dammit, dammit it all.

-’’y/n…y/n…’’ 

Blade felt pitiful, gasping your name out of his burning throat. Nothing answered to him apart from the echo of his pleas. Of course, you won’t come. You were in the Loafu after all, and he was lightyears away from you. He so stupidly kept calling your name, desperate from the mara. Against his pride and his better judgment, he couldn’t help but call out your name silently. He frowns in frustration. 

-‘’y/n…y/n!’’ He barely screamed that last one, but nothing. Not you or the relief will ever arrive. He closes his eyes, exhausted and in pain. Maybe- just maybe, something could deliver him from this never-ending curse. 

The air suddenly feels fresher. Blade noticed that his futon seemed to have changed…texture? He quickly realizes that his pain is suddenly numbed. Although still present, it’s barrable. His eyes shot open, greeted by a light blue sky. His eyes widen, feeling a cool breeze all over his body. What in the? He sits up, touching his bandages and chest confused. Was this a dream? The afterlife? His body feels fuzzy as if ants were crawling beneath his skin. He looks around the plains surrounding him. 

A vast field of gladiolus bloomed before him, showing their diverse and saturated colours. The field seems to be endless, crossing the horizon. It sways in unison as a breeze traverses the blooming flowers.

Blade finds the force to stand up, holding his arm with his hand. Although he’s able to walk, the fuzzy feeling forces him to limp softly on the pillowy grass. Was this death? He looks down at the imprint of his body on the flattened flowers. Would a dream be this detailed? Without a thought and without a destination, Blade starts walking weakly in any direction. He leaves behind him a trail of red spider lilies, new flowers blooming at his every step. It feels like hours as he aimlessly wanders inside the never-ending plains. Finally, he sees what looks like a small cabin. He furrows his eyebrows, both happy and cautious of such a finding. As he approaches he smells something in the distance, sweets. The field opens up to a clearing. Between him and the house a few meters away, lays a picnic blanket with pastries arranged elegantly on its surface. On the edge of the blanket, there you are, sitting peacefully with a cup of tea in your hands. Blade’s eyes widen in disbelief. It’s you. He approaches you with more hurry than before.

You enjoy your favourite blend of tea, humming delightfully to yourself. You feel the presence you’ve been waiting for you. You turn your head towards the figure. You watch silently as Blade slowly approaches you. He stops in his tracks, leaving some distance between the two of you.

-’’ You–You’re here.’’ He exhales.

-’’ You called.’’ You answer simply.

The warrior studies you, desperately trying to find anything suspicious about any of this, but all he felt was confusion. You give him a soft smile, aware of the questions he might have. Unknown to him, you weren’t going to answer any of his questions.

-’’ Where–’’ He tries to ask, but you cut him off as easily as last time. 

-’’ Come, Join me. Have a seat.’’ You invite him. Your voice is soft and calming, which bothers Blade. 

Nonetheless, he closes his distance and sits next to you. He feels awkward, and not used to interacting with strangers. His walls are still up towards you. After all, you barely knew each other. You tap your lap softly, inviting him to rest his head on top of it. His eyes widen as he gives you a glare. You stare back, unbothered. 

-’’ You look pained, I can fix that…’’ You whisper you’re voice honeyed, inviting him further.

Blade scoffs at the absurdity of this entire situation. First, he wakes up in an unknown field, then he rests on your lap? He might as well go with it. Blade shifts the weight of his body, his back facing you before he reluctantly places his head on your thighs. You chuckle, gently putting a hand through his hair. The man closes his eyes at the touch, furrowing. The gazing of your fingers on his scalp suddenly felt like heaven. The feeling spread all over his face, causing a sharp exhale to escape his nostrils. As your right-hand plays softly with his hair, your left-hand descends carefully down his bandaged chest. The buzzing in his body ceases once your finger traces his skin. He feels calm and at peace. A feeling he never thought he could ever experience. His expression relaxes for the first time in years. For once, like the last time he saw you, his body feels empty, light, and devoid of ill. The tingle of your fingers tracing his scars through the bandages gives him goosebumps. Quick gaps escaped his lips. If he knew what it meant, he’d say it’d feel like euphoria. By now, his entire body felt weightless. He pressed his head on your stomach, enjoying this feeling with water in his eyes. You giggle softly, proud of your healing work.

-’’ We can stop now if you wish to.’’ You calmly propose, removing your hand from his hair. It’s interrupted by his hand grabbing yours. 

-’’ No…Please.’’ He whispers, pleading for your touch. 

-’’ Very well.’’ 

You continue your miracle, tracing the tips of your fingers all over his chest and face. Blade relaxes completely within your grasp. His skin shudders from time to time from the gentleness of your touches. You both spend your time like this for a while. Suddenly, a distant bell chimes across the sky. You look up, disappointment on your face. You look back at the now dozed-off warrior on your lap. You caress his cheek with the back of your hand, walking him up softly.

-’’ I’m afraid our time together is over.’’ You sigh sadly. You were enjoying your time with this stellaron hunter. His calm expression, the peace in his eyes as he flutters them open. The pain you meticulously make vanish. 

-’’ Will I–Ever see you again?’’ Blade asks weakly. He attempts to reach out for your cheek. You stop him, intertwining your hand with his instead. 

-’’ Oh, Blade…’’ You purr. Blade’s eyes widen at the mention of his name. He never told you his name. ‘’ You only have to call my name, remember?’’ 

As you finish your sentence, you lower your head closer. Your soft lips barely graze his before Blade wakes up in a cold sweat. 

     Blade frantically sits up. He’s back in his room. Was it really a dream? He pats around his body, realizing the pain is gone. What just happened. He feels a lingering pressure on his lips. A light blush flushes his cheeks. He hovers his fingers over his lips. When he looks down at his chest he notices gladioli flowers sprouting on his skin. His eyes widen at the sight. He looks around his room. Gladioli blossoms and sprouts are scattered around his floor…

Tags ➳❥ @swivy123

End note ➳❥ If you guys love the premise, I might make a more serious short-series about this. This has been a fun concept to work with. The mystery behind who the reader is. Idk, let me know! For now I've got more coming in the works :D

[cybsoo2]

closer

╰┈➤ synopsis — Your relationship is on the rocks. The tide sweeps you away and leaves your love out to dry. As the final wave of realization washes over you, you try to run away. Taehyung can't take it anymore and reaches his breaking point. The only way to keep you, is to cut you close.

╰┈➤ pairing — yandere!taehyung x reader

╰┈➤ word count — 2.4k

╰┈➤ content warning — yandere behavior, self-harm, implied/referenced suicide, suicide attempt, threats, toxic!relationship, munchausen syndrome, angst

Your life is out of love. Taehyung took everything from you. Your youth, your energy, and all your attention. You've given him everything your heart has to offer. But all this fear & fighting has bleed you to the bone. If you let yourself live like this for even a minute more, you have no doubt that the fire inside of you will run dry. Its flames snuffed out by Taehyung’s suffocating sickness.

You were once a careless couple, so raw with romance. But time turnt its ugly head and what were once happy memories became nighttime nostalgia. Your relationship began to decay at the very first appearance of Taehyung’s disease. His obsession was slow and steady like the sea. It rolled up in waves. At first he began to act more clingy, hesitant to let you leave his hold. Then the second wave came in, he grew jealous of your friends and family. The third wave drew in suspicion, but by then you were already swept up by the tide. 

You’ve become so entangled in his toxic touch, that you doubt your soul will ever be set free. And although the risk is high and will result in heartbreak, you can’t help but chase after the reward. To live a free life again, away from the sickness that Taehyung spreads. This time apart may even begin to slowly heal his heart. So you’ve decided that when dawn falls, you’ll run away from all this heartache. Leaving the love of your life only out of hope for a better future. A healthy and heartfelt one that you both deserve, even if it isn’t what he wants. 

Taehyung finds out he lost your love through a letter. He had never meant to stumble upon the scripted confession, it was purely an accident. Stuffed away behind the bookshelf and only to be revealed by a burst of air. The gust of wind carried the paper up into the air and falling at Taehyung’s feet.

He's hesitant to pick up the paper, his insecurities already beginning to eat away at his mind. Why was the letter hidden away from him? What secretive thoughts did you not want to tell him? He's already assuming the worst.

His hands shake as he picks up the lonely letter. The words are rushed and bleed into one another. His blurry vision makes it hard to read, but he manages to catch the common words:

Tired. Suffocated. Can't. Hurts. Falling out of lo–

He can't read anymore. His tears are falling too fast and so is his heart. It sinks to the bottom of his stomach. An empty pit replaces it and he feels as if he might puke. He can already taste the metallic tang in his mouth. 

How could he have been so stupid? Of course you’d never love him like he loves you. A love so strong that it spread like a sickness. Swallowing him whole and now he’s dying of this disease. And instead of staying by his side, you’re running away. 

It’s all your fault. You stole his heart and now he can’t escape. He fell in love so fast it left him unsteady. Insecurities overflowing and questions consuming him. So many fears fester under the skin. Their whispers are warped reality, making him second guess everything he has with you. 

You stayed late at work last week, are you cheating on him? You said you had to study and aren’t paying him any attention, do you even care about him? You say you love him, but is it all a lie? 

Taehyung can’t tell what's real or not. His love sickness has spread to his mind, making him act irrational. He feels so confused and overwhelmed with emotions. The only time he can tell what’s true, is when it’s all red. 

Your pain is his passion. Because when he’s bleeding out right before you, you finally show him how much you care. Cradling him in your arms, pressing hasty kisses to the top of his head. His heart feels full and he can finally see clearly. He has no other option, he’ll die if he doesn’t have you. 

He makes his way to the bathroom where he knows you’ve kept them hidden. Those silver painkillers that sting his skin. He can hear his heartbeat ringing in his ears. He’s so, so scared. But not because of what he’s about to do, but rather because of how you’ll react. He can't stand the idea of you being upset at him. He much rather prefers your pretty tears to your angry voice. But this is just a risk he'll have to take.

He picks up his phone and pulls up the keypad. Your number is ingrained in his memory. Dialing those ten digits is as easy as breathing. How many times has he done this before? Calling you up while crying through the phone. Begging you to stay with blood on his hands. You come running back into the relationship every time. Kissing his cuts and promising you’ll love him for all eternity. And although your heart is begging to break the cycle, this time will be no different. 

“Why?”  His voice rings through the voice. 

There’s silence on your end of the line. You’re taken aback by the simple question. Taehyung sounds so… defeated. His words are so weak they barely even make their way through the phone. 

“Why don’t you love me?” 

You can hear the way his breath shakes, shallow and barely there. He tries to hide his cries behind his hand, but you can hear the way his voice begins to break. 

“You found the note didn’t you?” You let out a soft sigh. Your heart is heavy with guilt. You never wanted him to find out this way. Having this talk with him has been plaguing your mind all week. Running over the outcomes and figuring out the best way to break the news. But there’s no perfect way to do this, and when you think of how everything will end, it’s always red.

“I don’t understand–” He quickly corrects himself.  “I can’t understand. I love you. Why isn’t that enough?” He swallows down the sadness in his throat. It’s a lump that makes it hard to talk. He gets tongue tied and can barely say anything without the words breaking off. 

“Taehyung–” You try to interrupt him. Eager to end his rambling before he gets wrapped up in his own head. 

Taehyung stuffs down his sadness and it sinks to the bottom of his stomach. Acid rises and he feels as if he’s going to throw up. A burning heat slides up his throat and he’s spitting out the words before he can think twice.

“I always knew you hated me! I give you everything and it’s never enough!” Taehyung’s anger is quick to replace the anguish. His jealousy always clouding his head and covering his eyes to the truth.

“Taehyung please, can we talk about this when I get home?” His harsh words hurt your ears and tears begin to prick at your eyes. Pink-tinted and puffy, everyone around you can see your sadness on full display. Your coworkers whisper rumors to each other and their eyes stare through your skin. All the attention makes you itch, your heartbeat picking up the pace. You’re so sure that they can all hear Taehyung yelling at you through the phone. 

“No! We’re talking about this now. You never care about what I want. All you ever do is try to hurt me. I bet you wouldn’t even care if I just dropped dead.”

“Taehyung! Stop it! You know that’s not true. I do love you.” Everyone else’s eyes on you are now the least of your worries. Now only pure panic races through your veins. His emotions are beginning to eat away at his resolve, making him irritant and irrational. 

“If you really loved me you wouldn’t try to leave.”His voice is laced with betrayal. After building up a perfect image of you it’s all broken down by some flimsy little letter. 

You reach for your car keys on impulse, ready to drop everything and race back home to where Taehyung resides. Yet, you hesitate, hands stilling right before you can grab them. You made a promise to your hurting heart that you wouldn’t do this again– that you couldn’t. If you run back one more time, you’ll surely drown under the sea of his dark obsession. 

However, that doesn’t mean you want him to suffer. So you attempt to reason with the man, “That’s exactly why I’m doing this.”  You’re fighting back tears as you try to say your final goodbyes.“Taehyung…” His name hangs heavy in the air. So much emotion said in a single word. “This isn’t healthy. Not for me, and especially not for you. To be honest… I’m scared for you. Ever since we started dating you’ve only gotten worse, and I fear that it’s all my fault.” You pause for a moment, “I think we just need some time apart. Some time to focus on ourselves and get the proper help we need.”

There’s silence through the phone. The truth is a hard to swallow pill and Taehyung can’t stomach it. 

Waiting for him to respond makes your anxiety rise. Will he finally face the truth? Or will he continue to succumb to his obsession? The outcome is obvious; “You’re lying. You’re just making up excuses so you don’t have to admit how you really feel about me. Just say it already. Tell me you don’t love me.” 

Taehyung tries to justify his jealousy. Spitting out lies to lure you in. He hates hurting you– truly he does, but he’d do anything to keep you from escaping his arms. It always works out in the end, because you come running back to sooth his insecurities. 

“I love you.” You say, unwilling to lie to him even if that’s what he’s expecting.

“Then let’s test how true that is.” Taehyung tightens his grip on the silver blades. He holds the sharp edge to his bronze skin. Blood already begins to pool at the surface with how much pressure he’s applying. “How would you react if I killed myself because of you?” His tone is dead serious. Tongue so sharp it cuts through you like a knife. 

Fear paralyzes you. A cold chill crawls up your spine and sinks its teeth into your skin. Terror spreads like venom through your veins. You’re sitting still in shock, but you manage to whisper out two words, “You wouldn't”

“Come home and find out.” The line goes dead and you fear that if you’re not fast enough, he’ll be too.

As you run up the stairs to your shared apartment, you feel like you’re spiraling down to insanity. The staircase seems neverending in your race against time. You’re out of breath and breaking a sweat as you take the steps two at a time. 

After what feels like two hours of running, you collapse in front of your door. Your knees buckle before you can stop them. Your body begs you to catch your breath, but you rise up again with the last rush of adrenaline.

The door to your apartment taunts you. The bronze borders shine clearly under the moon. The little bit of light the window offers lets the door glisten like gold. But the door is stained with red paint. It chips away at the corners and overlaps the edges, almost as if it was painted in a hurry. The red door stares you down, but you build up the courage to walk right through. You already know what you’ll find when you step into the room.

Taehyung’s tears are red. He’s crying carmine and it’s staining every inch of his skin. The flesh split open with cruel cuts. They wrap around his wrists and spill scarlet onto the carpet. 

A trail of blood travels from the bathroom to the bed. You try to fit the bloody pieces back together. He must have found the razor blades under the bathroom sink. You thought you had hidden them away well enough, backed behind the towels and bottled chemicals. Taehyung could never stand the strong scent of them so he never bothered to look there. Now you realize how naive you really were. 

The drops of dark blood begin at the bathroom door. He must have cut himself in such a painful panic. The force of his frantic cuts have spilled blood onto every surface. His arteries so severely cut that they’ve sprayed onto the walls. The trail then leads to where Taehyung now lies. Dying in his own arms and surrounded by his suffering. The blood pools around his pale body while he fights to keep his eyes from closing.

The shocking sight tears a sob up out of your throat. You begin to blink back tears when you see just how much damage he’s done. You grab his limp wrists and your eyes trail over the cuts. They tear into his skin like snakes; slithering up his arms and wrapping around him. You make a move to hold him close to your heart. His head weighs heavy on your shoulder. Taehyung’s too tired to hold himself up. Fighting to focus on the feeling of your arms around him. And in the midst of it all, a soft smile creeps onto his face. He’s never been happier, because you actually came back for him, you truly care. And he doubts you’ll ever try to leave again. Not after how this night has turned out. 

Now you begin to realize that breaking the cycle would be catastrophic. This red routine is drawn out like a circle. It runs round and round chasing after the dreams and desires that cannot be caught. Erasing the endless line would only end up in tragedy. Whether it be for you or Taehyung, death can only decide. 

The red sun rises once again. The cycle continues on.  Wrapped up in a red embrace, it’s just a part of the routine.

© cybsoo2 2024, all rights reserved

[codeinesturniolo]

Lover, You Should’ve Come Over ⤹˚˖ ♫ ୭ `✦ ˑ ִֶָ 𓂃⊹

PARING : matt sturniolo x fem!reader

WARNINGS : none

˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊

In the quiet, rain-soaked streets of a small town, the echoes of Jeff Buckley's haunting melodies hung in the air, weaving through the lives of its inhabitants. The song "Lover, You Should've Come Over" played softly from an old record player in a dimly lit room, setting the stage for a tale of love, loss, and longing. This is the story of Matt and Y/N, two souls bound together by an unbreakable yet tragic bond.

Matt was a young man with a heart full of dreams and a soul that resonated with the music he adored. His life had always been a series of melodies, each note a step in his journey. He found solace in the strumming of his guitar and the lyrics that seemed to speak directly to his heart. It was during one of his late-night performances at a local café that he first laid eyes on Y/N. She was sitting alone, a book in her hands, her eyes distant and filled with a sadness that intrigued him.

Y/N was a mystery wrapped in an riddle, a beautiful yet fragile being who seemed to carry the weight of the world on her shoulders. Her past was a tapestry of pain and sorrow, each thread a reminder of the battles she had fought and the scars she bore. Despite her struggles, there was a spark in her that drew Matt to her like a moth to a flame. He saw in her a kindred spirit, someone who understood the depths of his emotions and the intensity of his passion. Like if he had been living in grey scale and she was the first thing he had ever seen in color.

As their paths crossed more frequently, Matt and Y/N found themselves drawn into a whirlwind romance, their connection deepening with each passing day. They shared their hopes and fears, their dreams and regrets, finding comfort in each other's presence. Yet, beneath the surface of their love, there lay a darkness that threatened to consume them both. Y/N's struggles with addiction and self-harm cast a shadow over their relationship, creating a chasm that Matt desperately tried to bridge.

Matt's love for Y/N was unwavering, his determination to help her unwavering. He stood by her side through the darkest of nights, holding her close as she trembled with the weight of her demons. He whispered words of comfort and hope, trying to pierce through the veil of despair that enveloped her. But as much as he tried, he couldn't save her from the pain that gnawed at her soul.

Their love story was a symphony of highs and lows, a testament to the power of love and the fragility of the human spirit. Matt and Y/N's journey was one of heartache and healing, a bittersweet reminder that sometimes, love is not enough to conquer the darkness within. As the rain continued to fall outside, the echoes of "Lover, You Should've Come Over" lingered in the air, a poignant reminder of the love that could have been.

As the days turned into weeks and weeks into months, Matt's life became a delicate balancing act. He juggled his music career and his devotion to Y/N, often sacrificing his own well-being to ensure she was safe. He watched helplessly as she spiraled deeper into her addiction, her once bright eyes now clouded with despair. The nights were the hardest, as he lay awake, listening to her cries for help, feeling powerless to ease her suffering.

Y/N, on the other hand, was trapped in a cycle of self-destruction. She loved Matt with all her heart, but the demons inside her were relentless. They whispered lies, convincing her that she was unworthy of his love, that she was a burden he didn't deserve. She pushed him away, hoping to spare him the pain of watching her fall apart, but Matt refused to leave her side. He held on to the hope that one day, she would find the strength to overcome her struggles.

One fateful evening, as the rain poured down in torrents, Y/N reached a breaking point. The weight of her addiction and self-loathing became too much to bear. She locked herself in the bathroom, tears streaming down her face as she stared at her reflection in the mirror. The person looking back at her was a stranger, a shadow of the vibrant woman she once was. Desperate for an escape, she reached for a bottle of pills, her hands trembling.

Matt, sensing that something was terribly wrong, rushed to her side. He banged on the bathroom door, his heart pounding with fear. "Y/N, please open the door!" he pleaded, his voice cracking with emotion. "I love you, and I can't lose you. Please, let me in."

Inside, Y/N hesitated, the sound of Matt's voice cutting through the haze of her despair. She wanted to believe him, to trust that his love could save her, but the darkness was overwhelming. With a final, anguished cry, she collapsed to the floor,

˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ 𐙚 ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖^ྀི˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚ ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ 𐙚 ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖^ྀི˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚ ˖ ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ 𐙚

part 2 will be out soon !! maybeee

[a-sip-of-milo]

Need a reason to live?

Recently, I made four polls with eleven reasons to live in each. Most of those reasons were given to me by people who have also been suicidal in the past, and I decided to compile them into one long list (plus some) for anyone who needs it to come back to when they're out of reasons to keep going.

⚠️ Disclaimer: Please do not turn this into one of those "ALWAYS REBLOG IF YOU SEE" posts. Thank you. ⚠️

Relationships

Your furry companion(s) (this means pets and friends who are furries <3)

Your friends

Your family

Those who look up to you

To reconnect with someone you haven't seen in a while

Your headmates (specific to those who are apart of systems)

There's someone who isn't around anymore who would want you to keep going

To eventually be a mentor to someone

To make sure your animals never have to sleep alone

To fall in love

Your partner

To meet your online friends/mutuals

To tell your mentor/the people who raised you with kindness that you made it

To see someone close to you through their final days

To make it big enough to eventually provide for those you care about

Your FP (personality disorder specific)

Group photos with your (found) family and friends

To help your friends do the same

The friends you've yet to meet

A promise you made to someone special

Acts of kindness

To be there when someone needs you

To see someone smile because of you

To make a stranger's day a little brighter

To hand out compliments to those who need it

To make the world a little bit better before you go

To treat the people around you the way you wish you'd been treated

To be the one person in someone's life who is there unconditionally.

To help someone you love to quit an addiction

To do charitable deeds

Affection

Hugs from someone you trust

Kisses from a partner, close friend or pet

Cuddles when it's cold/lonely

To laugh until your stomach hurts

Forehead touches

To hold someone so tight that they're wheezing

Doting on people when they're feeling down

To make the people around you laugh

Interests

That new game/movie/show/book/album/etc. that you’ve been waiting for

Telling everyone and anyone who will listen about your special interest/hyperfixations

To share creations that aren't appreciated enough

To save up for something that would make life more bearable

To finally complete a collection

Projects would be left unfinished

To travel

To complete a project you've been working on for a long period of time

Projects you've yet to come up with

To start participating in special interests you've had to put on hold

To laugh at the creations you made when you were younger and less experienced

Those who consume your work would never get to see another creation of yours

Spite (because I think spite deserves Its own section:))

To stick it to your abusers

To prove your younger self wrong

To prove the people around you wrong

To prove your younger self right

To prove the people around you right

To spit on the grave of someone who hurt you

As a big 'fuck you' to the world and everyone in it who tried to silence you

To outlive your enemies

To do something that you've never been allowed to do (get a piercing, tattoo, cut or dye your hair, etc.)

To show off your success to the people who doubted you

To make sure whoever hurt you doesn't win

Milestones

You've got a milestone of some kind that you'd like to reach before you go

To see your (future) children reach a milestone of their own

To see a birthday you never thought you'd make it to

To graduate from school

To see your wounds from self-harm heal

To experience old age

To get married

To recover from your eating disorder

To experience independence

To start/complete your transition

To go on your first date

To get your first job

To adopt a child and give them the life that they deserve

To rescue a pet and give them a home

To purchase your first car

To rent/purchase your first house/apartment

To have your first child

To lose your virginity

To experience the joy of knowing you escaped/got through a bad situation

To eventually publish your own book/art piece/etc.

Miscellaneous

To finally get diagnosed with something important

So if nothing else, you can still say you survived

You have a bucket list you'd like to complete

To live because you want to, not because others want you to

Comfort drinks with someone you love

You wrote a letter to yourself that you can't open until a certain date/birthday

Those rare and valuable pieces of media with good representation of a minority/marginalised group.

To read through past conversations with people and cringe/laugh/cry.

All the different foods you've yet to try

To see the world become more accommodating to those who need it

To watch the seasons change

To celebrate the holidays

For those days where you do feel okay, perhaps even good

To eventually replace the stuff in your closet with things that represent who you are now

To read back on journals and diaries you made when you were younger

If you are not in a place where any of these help, that's more than okay as well. It will be here if and when you ever need it. Being suicidal can be extremely lonely and scary and we all deal with it in different ways.

If you have your own reason and you feel comfortable sharing it with me, let me know via asks or DM and it will be added as soon as I can 💞

[traumasurvivors]

Here's a link to a blog post on my personal website on a topic that I think is very important.

I've also put it below the read more for people that don't like external links.

When it comes to healing from trauma, there are a lot of emotions an individual may feel. One of these emotions is anger. Anger is one of the emotions I see invalidated the most. For example, I’ve been told that being angry is “letting the person who hurt me win.” I’ve been told that I’m only hurting myself with my anger and that it’s holding me back from healing. All of these assumptions were wrong.

Anger is often viewed as a bad thing because it can drive a lot of unpleasant behaviours but it can be used for good. While anger can hurt you and others, it doesn’t have to. There is a difference between destructive anger and constructive anger. Destructive anger is often expressed in a way that causes harm to yourself or others whereas constructive anger can be used to better understand your situation and figure out your needs. Constructive anger can be a way to show respect for yourself.

For example, if you’re in a situation with a friend where they do something that makes you angry (for example: cancelling plans, forgetting an important date, etc), constructive anger may involve you stepping away from the situation to figure out the cause of your anger (for example: you feel their actions imply you’re not important to them) so that you can then sit down with your friend and communicate in a calm manner. This may allow your relationship to grow and build with a better understanding of each other. Destructive anger in this situation may involve you yelling at your friend and insulting them, which will likely damage or destroy the relationship. If the hurt your friend has caused makes you want to re-evaluate your friendship, this is valid and there are still constructive ways to end a friendship that will cause the least amount of hurt for all involved. It is also important to note that ignoring the anger and bottling up is likely to cause a bigger blow up down the line or cause “overreactions” to other circumstances.

If anger is bottled up, it can end up coming out unintentionally. You might find you’re getting much angrier at everyday annoyances and disagreements than you might think reasonable. People might push you away or respond badly to your anger, because they feel they do not deserve it - and looking back later, you might feel they don’t deserve it, either. However, because of the anger you’re holding back, you can’t see that in the moment. This is why it is important to think and consider your anger, and listen to what it’s trying to tell you. I have found asking questions of myself to analyze my anger can help, such as in an anger inventory like this one.

While many people see anger as an emotion that causes people to lash out and destroy things, anger can also help to motivate people to create new things. Marches to “Take back the night”, or for “gay pride” have much of their motivation based in anger at injustice and oppression. New laws to better protect survivors of domestic abuse or otherwise help society are often driven by people feeling a huge amount of anger. Properly harnessed, anger can help to take action to change things for the better.

On a more personal level, anger can also be a motivator to improve one’s own life. Many people have used the anger they felt at those who put them down as a motivation toward success. That success might be completing schooling, winning an international athletic competition or publishing a novel. One thing all of those have in common is that they are rarely possible to do with only a little time or a little effort. They are time-consuming tasks which usually require months if not years of work. They can be easy to give up on without motivation - and for many, anger is a big help to keeping that motivation.

It took me years to feel anger. For the first while, I felt ashamed, guilty and like I deserved the abuse I’d endured. Feeling angry at the people responsible for this was a step in my healing. I began putting the blame on those responsible and not myself. I was realizing that I did not deserve to be treated in the harmful ways that I was. This was huge to me as someone that had spent years thinking I deserved my trauma and as a result, future trauma and abuse as well.

There were instances where my anger was destructive, mostly to myself. I engaged in self-harm as a way to vent my anger and it also caused problems in my relationship at the time because I held my anger in and would get really frustrated and project my anger onto my relationship which was not fair to my partner.

Over the years, I’ve learned to cope with my anger more efficiently. What works for someone is largely dependent on them and their needs. For me, it was a literal punching bag to vent out frustrations and journaling. It was sitting down with my anger and treating it like a friend trying to protect me (because it was in a way). It was listening to it and finding the cause. My true anger came from those who hurt me, and in a way, took a part of me. My anger largely came from grief and betrayal. Understanding where it came from did not make it disappear, but it did offer me perspective and allow me to better manage it.

For some, anger is a cover up for other emotions. It becomes a defense mechanism against feeling the sadness, hurt and other emotions that a person does not want to feel. The anger is just the first layer and understanding where that anger comes from, and that the anger is a cover up is a great step in moving beyond it. Feeling the emotions beneath it will play a big part in moving beyond the anger.

Anger is a valid and understandable emotion when it comes to healing from trauma, even if your trauma does not have a specific person to blame (natural disasters and death of a loved one are examples). If the person who hurt you did not mean to or did not know better (like another child), anger is still a valid emotion. You’ve been hurt and you should not have been and it is reasonable to feel angry at this.

For a lot of us, anger plays a part in our healing. And that’s okay! You’re allowed to feel angry. Anger becomes an issue when you allow it to consume you and hurt you or others. The feeling itself is not inherently bad, and it can actually be a good thing. Your anger can be used to help you. It’s what you do with your anger that decides whether it’s helpful to you or not. When I was first told that my anger was “letting the other person win,” I believed that and felt invalidated. I have since realized that my anger has been an important part in understanding my pain and my needs. My anger is not letting someone else win, but letting me win, by helping me to heal.

[litnerdwrites]

"You shouldn't criticise/analyse SJM's characters/worldbuilding because it just isn't that deep." Is a take I see a lot when someone analyses or criticises SJM, and while I get where you're coming from, I do have a couple of issues with this take.

First of all, it's important to be able to criticise all media, even your your favourites, no matter how good or bad they are. Media of all formats is a product of it's time and goes a long way into helping us learn about the sociopolitical climate of the time it was written, from the past, present or future. As a result, no piece of media can be considered 'perfect' or without points to criticise, and analysing it can give us perspective on issues we may not even realise exist. This is true for most, if not all media, from books to news channels to music or tv shows.

If you don't want to analyse or criticise it though, that's fine. Just ignore posts and videos of people who do, since there's no use in telling them that they're wasting their time. Some people enjoy criticising/analysing the media they consume, but if you don't, then just let them be.

Now, here's the bigger issue I have with this take. It might really not be that deep to you, but it might really be that deep for other people. Especially since SJM books have a pretty young fanbase. The books are YA, and are advertised as being for ages 12 and up.

Many kids, young girls mostly, that read, even just the first book, are shown Feyre forgiving Rhys at the end of the book after SA-ing her for three months or Feyre getting back with Tamlin after he watched her get tortured for three months, and romanticise it. Then there's the second book, where she ends up with Rhysand despite what he did, and even lets him do it again at the CON.

Nesta is pressured by Elain and Feyre to let her use their home for something incredibly dangerous despite her very reasonable concerns, only to then be insulted by Feyre's friends for a situation he wasn't even there for, only for some romance to between them to be hinted at. In Acowar she's further pressured by her sister, and strangers who hate her, to put her healing and coping from her trauma aside to push her clear boundaries to help her sister even more despite her and her friends not having a great track record of holding up their ends of deals from Nesta's experience.

And don't even get me started on the train wreck that was ACOFAS- ACOSF. If these actions and behaviours were acknowledged as being toxic or wrong, that would be fine, somewhat. However, the narrative paints these characters and behaviour in a positive light, despite the fact they aren't. For young readers to look at this, and to idolise these characters and their behaviours, thinking that it's what they want in a partner, is disturbing.

It's fine to not want to critique or thoroughly analyse a book, but discrediting people who do, especially if they're pointing out harmful behaviour being perpetuated in said books, is not. Ignoring the harmful behaviour these books perpetuate is making you a part of the problem, and I truly hope that your view on this behaviour would change if it was coming from a living person instead of a fictional one. Be it towards you or somebody you know.

[darkestspring]

Hi. I’m new to this and just read the rules and hope this doesn’t make you uncomfortable

Can I ask for a Aemond x aunt Hightower reader? Like Alicent, she would harm herself but she would either dig her nails into her arms or would just gaze out of space and sometimes accidentally slice her hands or fingers. Otto never married her off because she was like Heleana in a way. She would learn high valyrian with Aemond and would always feel appreciated and happy whenever he praises his aunt for getting a wording right since Otto was never there for her

Aemond is obsessed with his aunt and whispers in his fathers ear (sickly Viserys) of his wish to marry his aunt so he can keep her happy

Cut to the dinner scene, Aemond makes a second toast: “I would like to make one more toast… I am to marry my dearest aunt. She is to be my wife”

Aunt Hightower was once again zoning out, all she heard was her nephew marrying and taking a wife, so she just begins clapping

You had always been an absentminded child, always daydreaming and zoning out, consumed by your own mind. Your father had loved you in a different way than your sister and your sister had loved you like you were her own child.

With your father forcing his ambition of making his daughter queen onto your older sister, he did not have a reason to marry you off, content to listen to alicent's demand that you stay with her in king's landing.

You were still a child, content to pick flowers and live inside your own world. He was content to let you remain like that. For now.

Alicent was a different matter, there was a decade age gap between the two of you, she had always found it cute when you toddled after her, holding flowers for her.

it went without saying that growing up as the queen's younger sister in king's landing meant that you also grew up with your nephews and niece. Your time was mostly spent with Helaena, being that you both were mostly cut from the same cloth.

you both spoke in riddles that no one really understood.

You had never understood the point of fearing bugs so you let your niece place bugs in your hand as she explained about them to you and you did the same to her when it came to flowers, your interest in them almost obsessive.

But the times where you weren't with helaena or even alicent, you were more than often not found with aemond. aegon avoided you as much as he count apart from the rare times when he came to you jsut to hear your praise directed towards him, he wanted just one person to be proud of him and you were.

aemond always seemed to be around whenever you were walking, a basket in your hands with the intent to pick flowers and fruits from the garden that alicent had set up for you, to indulge in your hobby.

He would insist on hold the basket, on helping you as he tried so hard to decipher your muttered riddles.

"the dove can never escape the sapphire cage," you had muttered in your sleep one day as you rested with your head in aemond's lap, per his request and he took that as a prophecy that you were both meant to be married, to be husband and wife.

It didn't matter his mother's protectiveness, nor his grandfather's nor even his elder sisters protectiveness over you. You would be his.

Dragons did not ask permission, they simply took.

and that's what he did.

he remained close to you, patient even as his unrelenting obsession over you got worse as years went on, he had been moved by your tears over the wretched state his bastard nephew pushed onto him, stealing his eye.

Aemond never trailed far from your side, even as questions of why you remained unmarried arose.

'I will marry you.' He was convinced of it, holding your hand gently to keep your from drawing more blood to your slowly healing marks.

The dinner had been the perfect place to announce it. He had taken such care to convince his slowly dying father, whispering his wishes to marry his aunt.

"A toast to my beloved aunt... I will make you the happiest bride, my love."

You had been zoning out at that point and everyone knew by your out of focus eyes but you still clapped along with helaena absentmindedly, not seeing the horrified look on your older sister's face.

ah, but your fate was already sealed.... Targaryen's always get what they want.

[merrinla]

I need more of him speaking latin please

Translated spells from devnotes

Flagra – Blaze

Arde – Burn

Maior, fortior – Greater, stronger

Fulgur – Lightning

Glacies – Ice

Acidum – Acid

Dolor – Pain

Malleus – Hammer

Confusio – Confusion

Morere – Die

Veni et iuva me – Come and aid me

Configo – I pierce

Ignis – Fire

Peri – Perish

Macte virtute – Be blessed (for your courage)

Ira et dolor – Wrath and pain

Te curo – I cure you

Treme – Shiver

Quod dico face – Do as I say

Invoco te – I summon you

Tonitrus – Thunder

Deure – Wither

Macesce – Wither

Cudo – I beat

Mortalis – Deadly

Ferio – I strike

Frange – Shatter

Inficio – I poison

Stupefacio – I strike (you) dumb

Impero tibi – I command you

Incende – Set fire

Diminuo te – I shatter you

Tormentum – Torture

Gela – Freeze

Perure – Be consumed

Ira – Wrath

Caedo – I cut

Ex Textura – From the Weave

Detono – I thunder

Mortem tuum sum – I am your death

Venenum – Poison

Tu es nihil – You are nothing

Dissolve – Melt

Dialino – I shred

Torre – Roast

Vis medicatrix – Healing Power

Seco – I carve

 Circulus mortis – Circle of death

Resisto mortem – I resist death

Vita excolatur – Let life be enriched

Voco spicae – I summon spikes

Magis amica veritas – Truth is a better friend

Te video – I see you

Tempestas – Wind

Risum teneatis? – Can you help laughing?

Resisto ignem – I resist fire

Non fit injura – No harm is done

Sphaera mortis – Sphere of death

Corpora sana – Healthy bodies

Diminue – Be diminished

Crescit eundo – It grows as it goes

Intactilis sum – I am untouchable

Ververo – I lash

Obedi me – Obey me

Pulso – Open up

Ad lapidem – To stone

Non compos mentis – (You are) not in control of your faculties

Esurio – Be afraid

Resisto frigus – I resist cold

Omnia mutantur – Everything changes

Signum arcanum – Magic symbol

Ad maiorem dei gloriam – For the greater glory of god

Tenebra – Darkness

Mundus vult decipi – The world wants to be deceived

Nulla salus – There is no salvation

Punge – Sting

Ludus non factum est – The game is not over

Hostium munera – Gifts of enemies

Plue – Let it rain

Esto perpetua – May it be perpetual

Bene curatur – It can be healed well

Non movere – Don’t move

Voco murus – I summon a wall

Morio – You absolute fool

Voco flagella – I summon tentacles

Venustior – More charming

Pallida mors – Pale death

Aresce – Dry up

Resarcio – I repair

Evanesco – I disappear

Vincere est vivere – To conquer is to live

Fiat voluntas dei – May god’s will be done

Et alibi – And elsewhere

Invisibilis – Invisible

Propera – Hurry up

Inaccessus – Inaccessible

Nocturnus – By night

Vos curo – Heal you

Demento te – I drive you insane

Agilius – With more agility

Caveat incantator – Let the caster beware

Inexpugnabilis – Impregnable

Virtus et scientia – Virtue and knowledge

Voco vineae – I summon vines

Tempora mutantur – The times have changed

Maledicte es – You are cursed

Vincit qui patitur – He conquers who endures

Voco potentia – I summon power

Risus abundat – Laughter is abundant

Pulchrior – More beautiful

Da mihi facta – Give me the facts

Ocior – Make haste

Resisto venenum – I resist poison

Horribilissimus – The most horrible

Loquere si tibi placet – Speak if you please

Stabilio – I stabilize

Voco araneae – I summon webs

Te occludo oculos – I close your eyes

Dum vita est, spes est – Where there’s life, there’s hope

Canto te – I enchant you

Caeco te – I blind you

Mors tua, vita mea – Your death, my life

Fiat lux – let there be light

Para bellum – Prepare for war

Volo non fugia – I fly but do not flee

Gigans – Giant

Vivat crescat floreat – May it live and grow

Efferve – Swarm over

Ubi es? – Where are you?

Surge – Arise

Incommodum – Disaster

Siccut cattus – Like a cat

Citius – Faster

Resisto acidum – I resist acid

Mors certa – Death is certain

Te adstringo linguam – I bind your tongue

Ex nihilo – Out of nothing

Sine metu – Without fear

Voco glacies – I summon ice

Minimus – The smallest

Intellego – I understand

Voco nubes – I summon clouds

Auribus teneo lupum – I hold the wolf be the ears

Corruptus – Infected

Ale me – Feed me

Flagello – I whip

Es praedae mei – You are my prey

Cave circulum – Beware of the circle

Amo sanguinem – I love blood

Amicus animalis – Friend of animals

Mors animae – Death of the soul

Cum mortuis in lingua mortua – With the dead in a dead language

Aqua pura – Clear water

In nocte consilium – The night brings advice

Umbrae – Shadows

Tibi do pennas – I give you wings

Te absolvo – I acquit you

Inveniam viam – I will find a way

Irretio in sphaera – I trap you in sphere

Ostende secretorum tuorum – Reveal your secrets

Oculus tempestatis – The eye of the storm

Resurg – You will rise again

Mutatis mutandis – With appropriate changes

Tuebor – I will protect

Aridissimus – Driest

Intelligenti pauca – Few words suffice for he who understands

Eiecto te – I throw you out

Cresceat scientia – Let knowledge grow

Silentium – Silence

Impero te – I command you

Time – Be afraid

Resisto – I resist

Video veritatem – I see the truth

Viam sapientiae – The way of wisdom

Stultissime – You most stupid

Ut ventus – Into the wind

Secreti umbrarum – The secrets of the shadows

Clausus – Locked

Lux in tenebra – Light in darkness

Ab uno disce omnes – From one, learn all

Ad vitam aeternam – To eternal life

Impero mortuos – I command the dead

Morbidus – Diseased

Sol Invictus – Unconquered Sun

Te exsecror – I curse you

Mors incerta, vita certissima – Death is uncertain, life the most certain

Gustas dulcis – You taste so sweet

Fronti nulla fides – Appearances deceive

Dissera – Open up

Expello te – I expel you

Extende – Enlarge

Voco arvina – I summon grease

Vae victis – Woe to the conquered

Scio, Didici, Pecto – I know, for I have studied, with my mind

Vita, Mortis, Careo – Life, and death, I am without

Manus, Potentis, Paro – A hand, powerful, I prepare

Veritas, Credo, Oculos – The truth, I believe, with my eyes

Facio, Voco, Ferre – This I do, I call, to bring you forth

Incertus, Pulcher, Imperio – Uncertain, beautiful things, I command

Cupio, Virtus, Licet – I want, excellence, allowed to me

Praeses, Alia, Fero – Protecting, another, I bring this forth

[thejournallo]

Explain the basic: Healing, Protecting, and Grounding.

You must know those three things before you start anything about witchcraft. This will be a long post.

I will explain those three things separately, as always:

PROTECTION:

Protection in witchcraft involves the use of various methods, spells, rituals, and practices to safeguard oneself, spaces, or others from negative energies, harm, or unwanted influences. It's an essential aspect of many magical traditions to maintain safety and well-being while practicing witchcraft. Here are some common ways practitioners protect themselves:

Warding and Shielding: Creating energetic barriers or shields around oneself or a space to prevent negative energies or entities from entering. This can be done through visualization, the use of specific symbols, or spoken spells.

Cleansing and Purification: Regularly cleansing yourself or your space with methods such as smudging (burning herbs [burning herbs is okay] like sage or palo santo and it is a closed practice for the native american and first Nations people), sprinkling salt, using consecrated water, or utilizing sound (like bells or singing bowls) to remove negativity and purify the environment.

Protective Symbols and Amulets: Wearing or carrying protective amulets, talismans, or charms such as pentagrams, evil eye symbols, runes, or specific sigils believed to ward off negativity.

Crystal Protection: Using crystals and stones like black tourmaline, obsidian, amethyst, or clear quartz for their protective properties. These can be worn, placed in a space, or used in rituals for protection.

Ancestral or Deity Protection: Calling upon ancestors, spirit guides, or deities associated with protection and asking for their assistance or guidance in warding off negativity.

Setting Intentions: Setting clear and strong intentions for protection through meditation, prayer, or visualization, reinforcing the desired protective barrier.

Creating Protective Spells or Rituals: Crafting and performing spells or rituals specifically designed for protection, involving candles, herbs, oils, and written or spoken incantations to enhance protective energy.

Boundary Setting: Establishing personal boundaries, both energetically and physically, and learning to say no to things or people that might compromise your safety or well-being.

GROUDING:

Grounding in witchcraft refers to the practice of connecting with the earth, balancing energy, and centering oneself. It's a technique used to help practitioners feel rooted, present, and connected to the physical world while engaging in magical or spiritual work. Grounding is essential for maintaining stability, mental clarity, and energetic balance.

Here are some common methods used for grounding in witchcraft:

Nature Connection: Spending time outdoors, walking barefoot on the earth, sitting against a tree, or gardening can help establish a connection with nature and ground your energy.

Visualization: Imagining roots extending from your body into the earth like a tree, anchoring you and absorbing excess energy. You can also visualize a protective shield around you, separating your energy from external influences.

Mindfulness and Breathing: Focusing on your breath and being present in the moment can bring awareness to your body and surroundings, helping to ground scattered energy.

Crystals: Certain crystals like black tourmaline, hematite, or obsidian are believed to have grounding properties. Holding or carrying these stones can aid in grounding practices.

Grounding Foods and Herbs: Consuming foods that grow underground (like root vegetables) or herbs such as ginger, turmeric, or cloves can also assist in grounding.

Physical Movement: Engaging in physical activities like yoga, tai chi, or dancing helps to connect with the body and the present moment.

Rituals and Spells: Incorporating grounding rituals or spells into your practice, such as casting a circle, lighting grounding candles, or using specific incantations, can help focus your intention and energy.

HEALING:

Healing in witchcraft encompasses various methods and practices aimed at promoting physical, emotional, mental, and spiritual well-being. Witches and practitioners of various magical traditions often use a combination of natural remedies, energy work, rituals, and spells to facilitate healing. Here are some common approaches to healing in witchcraft:

Herbalism and Plant Magic: Using the healing properties of herbs and plants to create remedies, teas, poultices, and tinctures for physical ailments. Herbal magic involves harnessing the energies of specific plants for their healing properties.

Energy Healing: Working with energy to promote balance and healing within the body. Practices like Reiki, chakra balancing, aura cleansing, and energy manipulation are common in witchcraft for healing purposes.

Candle Magic: Utilizing candles of different colors, corresponding with specific intentions or healing needs. Lighting candles in rituals or spells while focusing on healing intentions can aid in the healing process.

Crystal Healing: Using crystals and gemstones believed to have healing properties. Placing crystals on the body, creating crystal grids, or incorporating them into rituals can facilitate healing energies.

Visualization and Meditation: Guided visualization and meditation techniques to promote relaxation, reduce stress, and facilitate self-healing. This can involve visualizing light, healing energy, or positive affirmations to bring about healing.

Rituals and Spells: Crafting rituals or spells specifically focused on healing, utilizing candles, herbs, oils, symbols, and spoken or written incantations to channel healing energy.

Divination for Insight: Using divination tools like tarot cards, runes, or scrying to gain insight into the root causes of illness or emotional distress and to guide healing processes.

Sound and Vibrational Healing: Incorporating sound healing techniques such as chanting, drumming, singing bowls, or bells to harmonize energies and promote healing vibrations.

Ancestral or Spirit Work: Seeking guidance or assistance from ancestors, spirit guides, or deities associated with healing and wellness.

As always, I will love to hear your thoughts! and if you have any questions, I will be more than happy to answer them! If you liked it, leave a comment or reblog (that is always appreciated!). and have a wonderful day or night!

[aggravatetheaxe]

dethklok plays WoW

Nathan - main tank. Horde of course. Probably orc. His only toon. Absolutely a blood death knight both for aesthetic and because you know he's pulling top dps in addition to holding agg on everything in the room. Guild leader, does not take his title seriously but will still kick your ass if you bail on raid night. likes pvp but prefers pve

Pickles - plays mostly trolls, has 2 or 3 toons, probably also has an ugly forsaken and an ugly goblin (although goblin is a later race so depends on the year). Cat druid, often forced to spec into healing because mythic dungeons are only 5 man. But prefers to be cat or combat rogue. Incredible dps when he's allowed to do dps. not nurturing at all as a healer, WILL let you die if you piss him off (unless you're Nathan, but Nathan never dies). loves both pvp and pve but gets super steamed during pvp

Skwisgaar - paladin paladin paladin. Belf, of course. has secret female alts as well as secret ally alts. constantly adding his girlfriends to the guild and taking shit from the bank without asking. But he doesn't get in trouble because his dps is second to none - topping the charts even over Nathan. Ret pally, could technically heal with holy but his dps is just so insane that they can't afford to have him healing. pvp is beneath him

Toki - altaholic. Lots of female toons, lots of ally toons, gets bullied for both. Really wants to main a hunter so he can have a bunch of cute animal companions (and because it would be easier dps) but the others say that's gay so his main is a frost DK. the others make him spec into unholy because his crowd control brings clusters together so that Skwis and Nathan can wipe them out. So, so fucking angry that he never gets to do any actual dps because his plagues never get the chance to stack - and despite knowing it's a DOT issue the others clown on him for being the absolute bottom of the dps chart. pvp is too hard for him, no one protects him and everyone picks on him

Murderface - orc arms warrior and tauren fury warrior, dps but mostly off tank. makes cringe jokes (abt both native americans and milking) if tauren. One secret ally toon (human no less), also a warrior, that he uses to /walk around stormwind and RP badly. constantly brags about his dps but he's actually garbage, only above toki. makes a big deal out of his rank in the guild but he actually has no bank privileges. loves self harm through pvp

Charles - undead disc priest. a few alts, equal numbers male and female but almost all undead. probably a GM. heals when pickles is on dps and there's room or in a raid setting. guild treasurer, full bank permissions, has to constantly police the boys and spends thankless hours filling the bank back up with pots, food, etc. Also in charge of recruiting, so he should just be guild lead at this point but he dutifully never complains :) plays an affliction warlock and a couple rogues (combat and assassination) on a different server, when the boys give him one free fucking moment to do his own thing

Magnus - used to be a super powerful destro warlock that matched skwisgaar in dps. was super involved in the guild, help build it into what it was, contributed lots of materials, consumables, and money to the bank. Recruited some of their best players. after a horrific falling out (he was the asshole in the situation; controlling, etc) he was kicked from the guild and replaced. has since (due to wotlk) abandoned his warlock for a death knight. now he has a forever grudge and badmouths dethklok any chance he gets, but the majority of the server knows he's the drama so he has trouble finding others to play with. because of this he's been forced to switch over to alliance side. hence he falls in with...

MMA & the revengencers: MMA is yet another DK, probably blood, guild lead of the revengencers - rival guild to dethklok, constantly butting heads with them in pvp, ganking their low level members/alts, just generally being a nuisance. MMA wants revenge for Nathan (with the help of GM charles) getting his OG account banned

Edgar - human arcane mage main ("actually, the rotation is quite simple"). has lots of female alts. treasurer of the revengencers, takes everything way way way too seriously. Definitely works for blizzard or is a GM. very tense, sometimes outright hostile, relationship with Charles despite being essentially coworkers. "umm you sir have won the internet" "updoot" guy in chat. full collection of mounts, even the rare and/or limited edition ones

[moetartart]

So this is such a silly little rant but I have no where else to put it so here it is 😂 My very room temperature take.

Astarion gets a lot of hate for things Shadowheart is wubbified for.

I'd like to start by saying I love both charecters, I accept their flaws and that they can be evil. I love that for them. but I keep getting paragraphs written to me about how awful Astarion is and people really not liking my take that Shart is just as bad..

Shadowheart

.Not just pro torture but a pro AT torture which she brags about. No mind control needed (in the goblin camp and again she praises the doctor in the house of healing )

.Approves of lies and doing bad things

.is vein and narcissistic about her looks Tav-' your beautiful' Shart-'i know.'

.Will use and manipulate Tav (you get more than once insight check)

.Is racist (To the Gith mainly)

.Disapproves of you doing nice things -'that kind heart will get us all killed some day.' (Shadowheart disapproves)

.In her bad ending, even if you have done a fully good run and she has become a hero, she can still choose of her own free will to become a cult leader who abused others as she has been abused. No vampire mind control needed. (She has to give up memories, but not of her adventures with Tav)

.In her good ending she learns to live for herself going on adventures or settling down for a quiet life

Astarion -

. Approves of torture because he's smug he's not the one in the chair

.has done serious harm to others including children but had no control over his body and actions at the time 'He speaks, and our bodies move.'

.Approves of lies and doing bad things a LOT

.is vien and narcissistic about his looks 'AND beautiful! Not enough people mention that.'

.will use and manipulate Tav (admits it all on the confessions scene OR the rejection scene in act 3 if you don't help him in act 2)

.is racist (to the Gur and gnomes kinda? )

. Disapproves of doing nice things if they stray from his goal

.In his bad ending, he is consumed by evil energy that removes any good will he had, continuing the cycle of abuse. (If you use detect thoughts on a sleeping Cazador you will learn that his 'good' qualities are trapped inside him and only his worse qualities manifest in the waking world)

.Good endings can vary in 'goodness'. He can be the hero that saves the spawn or a bounty hunter or even go on a solo quest

All this to say, they both have the capacity to be evil. Regardless of truma or brain washing they can both be bad people once free. Both are brain washed and have memory loss. Both did bad things in the service of someone else. Both have truma that dosnt excuse bad behaviour. Both live in a violent universe unlike our own where death and murder don't mean the sane thing abs have different consequences and should not be judged as real people. Arguably Shadowheart has more autonomy and reasonable decision making begging to bad ending. Astarion hands down has the better chance for redemption by helping others if the player chooses. In game and before development, who loves violence more? Astarion. Who does more violence? Shadowheart. Which is worse, idk.

Again, love them both. Toxic queens. I just hold them to an equal standard