#And attempt/hope to come out of it with as little physical and mental scars as possible

[thelostgirl21]

Okay, I don't know where and how you (as in me. As in how one) should put triggers on this, but that's just 100% how my experience being raped was like.

You try to pull away and offer some resistance at first, but when pulling away hurts you more and/or makes the person more vicious, you just stop resisting and will give them exactly what they want - might even try to pretend to like it - in the hopes that it will hurt less, and minimize the overall damage being done to you.

Sure, maybe Jaskier will get one of his fingers burnt to a crisp; but at least it'll be just that one finger... If he's lucky - assuming he survives this - his whole hand might not also get crushed and become utterly unusable, on top of that one finger.

Better just mentally brace yourself, become passive, and wait for it to be over, whatever the outcome might be. Don't make it worse for yourself.

That's why whoever is saying that "If you'd really been raped, you would have been fighting for your life! Your assailant would have had bruises and bite marks, etc." doesn't remotely grasps what "fighting for your life" entails.

When your assailant is stronger and you know you can't win, doing everything you can to pacify them and avoid triggering more aggression from them is the very definition of you "fighting for your life".

It's you using every single tiny bit of personal resources and strength in your body to keep yourself alive!

You're fighting with your life with all you've fucking got!

Jaskier's a survivor. He's a fighter. He's someone that keeps pushing and tries to protect those he loves and himself, regardless of how bad things get and how awful the odds of survival are.

And what you see here is that fighting spirit in action doing everything it can to keep himself alive as long as he can!

No matter how terrified he is, he still keeps fighting.

no bc can we fucking talk about this

the fact that jaskier tries to pull away the second he sees rience reach for him. he tries. he fucking tries. even if he knows he can't move his hand more than a few inches he fucking tries out of sheer terror.

but rience still grabs his hand anyway. of course he does. jaskier never had a chance of avoiding this and both of them know it.

but you see how fucking hard rience squeezes jaskier's fingers.

you see how tightly he grips jaskier's hand, even if it's barely a second before his grip relaxes (and in the clip you can hear him hiss in pain). it's not even a necessary movement, since Jaskier would never have been able to evade his grip; it's very clearly a nonverbal command to stop resisting.

and it works.

jaskier keeps his hand stretched out. he stops trying to evade it. he knows rience will do this and he's too terrified (and exhausted from previous torture) to evade it anymore. because he knows it wont work.

and once jaskier's hand relaxes, rience's grip loosens again. he's not even gripping Jaskier's hand anymore. because he knows he doesn't need to. because he knows jaskier won't pull away again.

at this point all rience has to do is just. keep his own hand opened up to keep jaskier's fingers outstretched and laying on his. he's relaxed. he's almost absentminded about it. because he can be at this point.

because jaskier won't pull away even when he sees rience conjure the flame that he knows he will use on his hand.

i just. the way rience emphasizes his control over the situation by making jaskier keep his hand still even though he fully fucking understands what rience is going to do. he's literally holding what makes jaskier who he is in his fingertips and fully intends to destroy it and knows he can hold it gently because there will be so little resistance. because he has already terrified and tormented and shaken jaskier so badly that all he needed to do was squeeze his hand to get him to stop resisting. I'm just. I'm so sick.

[ayyy-pee]

hi lexi!! i hope you’re having a lovely day!! sooooo i saw you’re requests are open 👀 i totally loved your kny fics and was wondering if you’d write a little something about giyu and his wife experiencing the ups and downs of pregnancy?

AHHHH HI JESS!!! Thank you for sending in a request! I've been kind of itching to write Demon Slayer again lately so YES YES YES!!!! ABSOLUTELY!!!

Discord 18+ - Twitter - Demon Slayer Masterlist

Pairing: Tomioka Giyuu x Female Reader

Summary: Adjusting to being at home with you all the time is easy. Adjusting to this pregnancy, is not.

A little extra bit to Make It Stick!

“Let me help you.”

“I’ve got it.”

“But, you shouldn’t–”

“I’m pregnant, Giyuu. That doesn’t make me incapable of getting water. Doesn’t mean I cannot do our laundry. Or prepare a meal. Or stand up by myself.”

Giyuu watches as you, his wife, so beautiful and glowing in this stage of your late pregnancy, lean forward as you attempt to stand from your seated position on the floor. It’s unsuccessful, your very round belly limiting your motion. With a deep breath and a strained grunt, you try again. Giyuu struggles not to leap forward. You simply want a glass of water. It really shouldn’t be this difficult. But you’re strong, and he’s learned better than to get in the way of his determined spouse. So he simply stands rooted in his spot as your second attempt to stand turns out to be less successful than the first. And after about the fourth try, you reach for your husband. 

“Okay,” you pant heavily, waving your husband over. “The last one I may need help with.”

He smiles softly, quickly and carefully helping you to stand. 

As the days pass, and peace finally takes root throughout Japan, Giyuu finds himself spending most of his time home with you. There are no demons, no reason for the Hashira to gather unless it’s to simply catch up. And try as he might, Giyuu is not any more social than when he joined the ranks. There are no more late night excursions across prefectures. No need to ever lay his hand on a sword again.

The Hashira were lucky. They survived. But not without their own set of scars, both physical and mental. All that to say…

He’s restless.

- - - - - -

So, he was grateful that the day he had returned from a fight he did not think he’d come back from, he found you asleep, safe and sound in bed. He was so blinded by your beauty, by the glow the moonlight cast across your skin, that he failed to notice the roundness of you hidden beneath your blankets. He received quite the surprise when he slid into your bed and tried to wrap his arms around you, only to find your belly had grown quite a bit since he’d been gone.

The next morning, you happily showed off your new, round belly to your husband who donned a wide smile as you (and your child) modeled in his haori.

“You look…” His wide eyes drank in your ever-changing form. The bright smile on your face as your hands gently caressed your stomach, made his heart beat wildly behind his ribs. “There are no words,” he rasped, and he was surprised to see the immediate glassiness that overtook your eyes as you gazed at him. He wasn’t sure what triggered such a reaction, until you kneeled before him and cupped his face in your hands. You pressed your lips to his sweetly, and then your thumbs swiped along his cheeks. It was only then that he realized he was the one with the glassy eyes, the tears pouring down his face. You kissed him again, smiling when Giyuu finally gathered his thoughts enough to kiss you back.

You pull away, the both of you gazing softly into each other’s eyes, your love speaking so loudly in this silence. Until you snort, a soft giggle rushing past your lips.

“You can’t think of at least one word?”

- - - - - -

Adjusting to being home with you all the time was easy. Your presence was always comforting, always warm and cozy. Your presence was always gentle and soothing. You made anywhere feel like home. So being with you all the time…it was easy. Adjusting to your pregnancy was not.

It was adjusting to your mood swings. You once had Giyuu quivering in fear, backed into a corner as you let him have it over placing a utensil in the “wrong spot”. He had never seen you so worked up before, your fists trembling as you laid into him. He apologized profusely, swearing he would be careful and apologizing with a back rub later in the night that had you in tears, blubbering your own string of apologies for how you treated him earlier.

No apologies were needed. Giyuu had forgiven you the moment you had raised your voice.

But, Giyuu thinks you could have even struck fear into Muzan had he been unfortunate enough to be on the receiving end of your wrath.

Another time, he found you weeping in your bath, upset that the cloth you used to bathe yourself was too far away (hanging on the other end of the bath) and you now couldn’t reach it. 

“It’s okay, love,” Giyuu cooed gently as he grabbed the cloth for you. But you were in hysterics, muttering about how you knew this was such a foolish thing to be crying over, but you just couldn’t seem to help yourself, swiping the tears from your cheeks. Giyuu didn’t mind, of course. He quickly stripped out of his clothes and climbed into the water with you. You quietly sobbed against him as your husband helped you to wash yourself.

He tucked you into bed after, ordering you to rest while he completed the household chores you were so determined to finish today (he made sure to put everything in its proper place).

Then, there was one other time when you made Giyuu walk you all the way to Kanroji’s home because you had to have pancakes and butter. He’d never tried it before, but had heard from Tanjiro, and you, that they are quite delicious. If it was what you wanted, he was happy to oblige. 

So he made the journey with you without question, watching as Kanroji eagerly wrapped her arms around you the moment she’d opened the door.

There are no longer secrets among the Hashira. They are aware of Giyuu’s status as a married man who is soon to be a father. They’ve all met you, and they all love you. Which is why Kanroji was more than happy to whip up pancakes and butter for you to happily enjoy together with tea. And it’s why she was also happy to prepare extra to send home with you.

“Please let me know when the baby arrives!” Kanroji cheers. “Obanai and I will make the journey to see you all!”

Your smile is wide and so, so happy and Giyuu is surprised to find that he mirrors your expression as you and Kanroji hold hands and become immersed in conversation.

It’s a pleasant journey home, you going on and on about how delicious your sweet treats were. You’re in good spirits! But it doesn’t last long, as the moment you get home, you’re rushing to the bathroom where you get sick. You spend the rest of the day in bed.

Adjusting to being at home with you all the time is easy. Adjusting to this pregnancy, is not.

- - - - - -

Today, you are happy. The smile he missed so much is back, and the color has returned to your face. You don’t look sickly, as you did just a few days prior and your energy has seemed to return as well. Giyuu suggested you go into town to try and find essentials for the baby. You won’t be out long, though. You’re due to give birth any day now, and it’s hard for you to stand for long periods of time due to the weight of the baby.

But you’re humming, eyes scanning the goods at each stand as you gently rub your belly. You speak with the merchants, purchase what you deem is necessary, and you hand it to your husband who follows quietly behind you. He’s essentially the bag man today. He doesn’t mind. Not when your joy is radiating off of you. Not when you’re glowing so beautifully. 

You’re draped in Giyuu’s haori, your favorite article of clothing lately.

“I just love to smell you these days,” you told him when he’d found you wearing it in the garden one morning. “I suppose the baby does, as well.”

These days, he finds you wear his haori more than he does. And it makes Giyuu feel eternally grateful, makes him feel so blessed. Blessed that he survived. Blessed that he was able to get back to you. Blessed that he is present for this journey and all of its ups and downs. Blessed that he is the man lucky enough to love and be loved by you. And soon, blessed to be able to hold the one created by both of your love.

Giyuu watches on, a tiny smile curling at the corners of his lips as he watches you adorably waddle your way to another stand. And he finds that maybe adjusting to your pregnancy is not as hard as he thought.

[egoitsharu]

Analyzing "Lull"

Verse 1:

"The Endless Night, The Intertwined Smoke of Repeated Cycles, Could I See Again, The Red Maple Leaves")

"Smoke" and "cycles" evoke the idea of an endless loop, which can represent both time travel and emotional pain that seems to have no end. The "red maple leaves" symbolize a cherished memory, something beautiful that is no longer within reach but which the protagonist desperately longs to recover.

Verse 2:

"没法预测的落点在时间的缝隙中蔓延雨滴般透明的谎言拒绝" ("The impossible-to-predict falling point, Spreads in the cracks of time, Transparent lies like raindrops, Rejection")

The "falling point" reflects the uncertainty of fate: you never know where you will end up. This may be a direct reference to Cheng Xiaoshi's missions, where he cannot predict the exact consequences of his actions. "Transparent lies" allude to the illusions we make for ourselves to justify our decisions, while "rejection" indicates a resistance to accepting the painful truth.

Verse 3:

"直到一切都不再��要妥协无论过去还是不变" ("Until there is no need to compromise, Regardless of the past or the unchangeable")

Here is a hint of a final acceptance, a surrender to the inevitable. "Not needing to compromise" means to stop trying to change what cannot be altered, a recognition of the weight of fate and the impossibility of completely rewriting the past.

Chorus:

"Once again I see those images, That only provoke a surge of emotions, Without asking what the future will be likeI only feel the pain in my eyes now")

This passage describes how memories from the past generate intense emotions and, at the same time, pain. It speaks of living in the present moment, despite the uncertainty of the future, and of dealing with the emotional impact of those memories.

Verse 4:

"An indescribable perception, Opens a little, Out of control and unrecoverable, The burning heat burns my vision")

This verse reflects a loss of emotional or even physical control. The "indescribable perception" can be intuition or an overwhelming feeling that leads the protagonist to face something inevitable, something that burns and leaves an indelible scar.

Verse 5:

"思绪迸发回转跳跃最后能捕捉到你的瞬间直到我们越过了漫漫长夜"("Thoughts burst, spin, and jumpI can finally capture a moment of you, Until we cross the endless night.")

There is a mix of mental chaos and a moment of clarity here. The "capturing a moment of you" could be a cherished memory or a fleeting connection with someone important. The "endless night" represents struggle, pain, and time that seems to have no end, but there is hope in "crossing it."

Repeated chorus:

"就算过去不能重写不愿看到那些只能让心跳冷却的执念"("Even though the past cannot be rewrittenI don't want to see those obsessionsThat only make my heart cold")

The emphasis here is on the acceptance that the past cannot be changed, but also on a resistance to getting caught up in obsessions or memories that cause pain. It is a call to move forward despite emotional scars.

Closing:

"When will I be able to fulfill my wish? Countless times I returned to the starting pointWhat words, Could bring me comfort?")

The ending is deeply melancholic, with a desire to fulfill something that seems impossible. Returning to the "starting point" suggests a repetitive cycle of failed attempts. The protagonist seeks comfort, but it seems that words are not enough to ease the pain.

Overall interpretation:

This song encapsulates the emotional struggle of coming to terms with loss and the impossibility of changing the past. It speaks of the beauty and pain of memories, of the longing to capture what is gone, and of the effort to move forward, even when fate seems insurmountable. It is a reflection on the fragility of human emotions and the complexity of time and decisions.

[baddestbittyontheblock]

wanda maximoff fic recs (2)

𖣁 hi everyone!! here is my second rec for wanda, i hope you all enjoy!! 𖣁

ཐིཋྀ remember to like and reblog the works you enjoy in order to support each incredible writer!! ཐིཋྀ

𖣁 however, make sure you read the information on each story themselves such as triggers & warnings 𖣁

ཐིཋྀ if you’d like me to remove your fic from this list, message me! ཐིཋྀ

ਏਓ beginners episode by @wandasfifthwife hockey coach/player!wanda x ex figure skater!reader | HEAVY TOPICS, injury (r = leg and brain), r’s mother is verbally/physically abusive, r’s mom sees herself in r, body-image issues, heavier angst w/ happy ending, hurt/comfort, established relationship (w&r), break ups (not w&r), past relationships, player!wanda for a minute, injury (w = broken nose), 2.1k

-your mother had made a suggestion during dinner for you to get out more, have a sport or a club activity to join so you weren’t inside so much.

ਏਓ she tells me keep fucking cause she loves this shit by ^ hockey player!wanda x afab!fem!reader | SMUT MDNI, established relationship, angry-makeup-im going to miss you-sex, argument, angst w/ happy ending, hurt/comfort, top!wanda, bottom!reader, strap (r receiving), oral (r receiving), impact play (spanking), marking (neck), r is called little thing (by wanda), overstim if you squint, cum kink?

-wanda has an away game, meaning she has to leave you in the morning. your emotions to rise, hurt turning into anger and causing you to snap at her, resulting in an argument—but you can’t stay mad at her. before you can realize you’ve ended up under her, pleas for her to fuck you good before she leaves.

ਏਓ nightmares by ^ hockey player!wanda x afab!fem!reader | HEAVY TOPICS, mentions that r’s mother was physically&mentally abusive, nightmare has a SLIGHT description, angst w/ happy ending, hurt/comfort, argument (w&r), nightmare, love confessions, r thinks they’re going to breakup, fluffy ending

-your lack of sleep comes to play when you snap at wanda and end up sleeping on her couch. wanda comes face-to-face with the issue when you come into her room late at night, crying from a nightmare

ਏਓ say, “don’t go” by @scarletssienna wanda maximoff x reader | hurt, comfort, angst, mommy wanda, sub!reader, grinding, car sex, fingering, hair-pulling, oral, biting, fighting, scars, AU, 6k

-it’s been three years since you and wanda saw each other last - three long years. you were as good as dead to her. figuratively, and unfortunately, literally.

ਏਓ unspoken truths by @spaghettiposts wanda maximoff x reader | pregnancy, dickhead vision, friends to lovers, attempts at comedy, reader being a sweetheart like always, mutual pinning, faint talks of abortion, talks of nausea and vomiting, 4k

-you and wanda have been friends for years, but never once has she showed up at your doorstep in this state. pregnant, alone, and hurt. you take her in and you both dive into the difficulties of pregnancy, and hiding feelings.

ਏਓ to seek forgiveness by @esouliie wanda maximoff x fem!reader | strap (r!receiving), breath play?, wanda is rough & reader is crying lol, aftercare! (18+)

-recklessness requires a certain type of punishment, but you can only take so much

ਏਓ hers by @themidnightcrimson top!wanda x reader | 18+ only. minors: do not interact, jealousy, possession, voyeurism, fingering

-in which natasha has a hard time staying away from what isn't hers, so wanda decides to teach her a lesson.

ਏਓ the scarlet siren by ^ wanda maximoff x fem!reader | siren!wanda, dubcon/noncon, fingering (r receiving), oral (r receiving), size kink, biting, a lot of blood, violence, fear, suspense, drowning, deep water, mentions of death, i wrote this in an irish accent for some reason, did you know i have thalassophobia?, 6.0k, 18+ only. minors: do not interact

-in which you take a trip out to sea that you will regret.

ਏਓ their mistake by @scarlet-daisy dark!wanda x reader | mentions of torture and being kidnapped, hydra agents & wanda killing them

-“you made a really big mistake…”

ਏਓ lost in the universe (pt:1) by @mionemymind wanda maximoff x reader | fluff, cursing, slight angst?

-y/n is transported to a different universe and by chance, meets the wanda that inhabits it.

ਏਓ lost in the universe (pt:2) by ^. wanda maximoff x reader | fluff, kissing, cursing, jealousy, 1.3k

-the aftermath of y/n being rescued from the alternate universe.

ਏਓ you’re the only thing keeping me center by @themultiimagines wanda maximoff x fem!reader | smut (18+ MDNI), jealousy (healthy ofc), thigh riding, cursing, 2.7k

-you’ve never had a bond with anyone quite as strong as the one you have with wanda.

ਏਓ turn a blind eye by @wndaswife  wanda maximoff & fem!reader | MDNI: smut, a bit angsty in the beginning, some fluff at the end, tiny mood switch because wv wanda is scary but also just the cutest, manipulation, implications of magic usage (this is up to your interpretation), fingering, cunnilingus, mommy kink, dom!wanda maximoff

-something strange is happening in westview, and your wife is adamant about soothing your frustrations.

ਏਓ a glimpse of you by @marvelfilth wanda maximoff x f!reader | dubcon, noncon, somnophilia, oral, fingering, pet names, (18+)

-she looks down at her chest where your head rests, your back pressed neatly against her front, and smiles when she sees you fast asleep. and then she gasps, because the image twists abruptly, and now you're no longer asleep, but panting, your cheeks red, your forehead glistening with sweat. wanda's hand moves between your legs, the wet noises her fingers make as they plunge deep inside you make her shudder.

✦ dividers by @cafekitsune, @dollywons ✦

[gatitties]

Hello. This is my first time making a request, so pardon me for any mistakes I might make, english is also not my first language, lol. May I request a teen! AFAB male reader (trans FtM) x Kid pirates (platonic)?

The reader is the user of the Itai-Itai No Mi, a fruit with the power to control pain sensitivity. The reader is chronically ill, born with Classic Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome, so you could see how the fruit comes in extremely handy. He can control his own pain levels and transfer pain between himself and others, outside of battle, he often uses his powers to overextend himself, and during a fight, he can debilitate enemies by accentuating the pain from his own wounds and then transferring it to a target. Since he's physically weak, he keeps a distance, using a bow and arrow. He's really passionate about chemistry, so he usually laces the arrows with nervous agents, urticants, or other chemical weapons.

However, the powers from his fruit are nothing but a mere illusion. He can go on with his daily life, using his powers as analgesics and pretending he's not sick in the first place, but even though he's not feeling pain, he's still getting hurt.

If that wasn't enough, the reader is alexythimic, so he's constantly thrill-seeking in an attempt to alleviate the boredom that comes with his dulled-out emotions. This gets to the point where the reader just completely neglects his health because, well, he's not in pain. It also gets to the point where his body simply starts falling apart, being too unstable to keep him going. He hides this to the crew and pretends that nothing is happening, though the bruises and huge atrophic scars that appear from the slightest injuries are kind of a give-away.

Anxiety and anger are the only two emotions that the reader can easily identify, the rest being vague, confusing, or apparently non-existent. As he sits on the edge of his bed, feeling like a burden to the crew, those two emotions overtake him. The reader already has dysphoria and uneasiness regarding his body, a thing which he rarely talks about; despite dressing boyish he definitely doesn't pass as both his voice and body don't match his mind. And now, if that wasn't enough, his body fails him once more. "Why do I have to deal with the burden of something that doesn't even belong to me?" He asks himself.

As he gets sicker and sicker, his mind has him trapped in this endless cycle of boredom, fear, rage and indifference. At this point, everything, from his body to his head, feels like he's been sentenced to life in prison.

One day the reader simply collapsed, and the crew has to sit there, puzzled, as they figure out why the usually full-of-energy reader now has faceplanted the floor. I'll leave the rest to you (?) sorry if this is too long, lol. I've been feeling crappy about my physical and mental health, so reading something like this would be nice.

─Kid pirates x Teen!AFAB male reader (FtM) (platonic)

─Summary: Your world is slowly collapsing in the face of your illness, your powers don't seem to help and you are becoming more and more physically and mentally devastated.

─Warnings: a little angst, dissatisfaction with body, small panic attack

Naah, you did absolutely fine, I'm sorry this took so long and I hope you're really okay now love, I wish you all the love in the world and lots of hugs <3

You lost count of how many days you've been feeling this way, a sensation that tingles your body and persists until you fade it with your powers, the sensitization control worked well, however you had the reminder of the scars and the touch of your own skin, remembering that no matter how hard you try, you were still a helpless and insecure teenager with a chronic health problem.

The moments when all the discomfort was left behind was due to the lack of understanding when it came to deciphering feelings, the crew didn't help much with that issue, after all, they, for the most part, weren't the happiest people or those who spread nice or self-care messages, definitely the Kid Pirates weren't the most suitable to fully develop your lack of interpretation of emotions.

Even though you had never had any problems before, something inside your mind was eating away at your conscience little by little, devouring every little corner, you don't know when it started, but you felt trapped in a cycle, repetitive days seeing your face, your body, you didn't look like yourself, you weren't the person you imagined in your confused mind, you didn't like yourself, and even changing your physical aspects in a certain ways, there was always some minimal detail as a reminder, the tone of your voice, the shape of your body… it seemed like a constant fight against yourself, a tug-of-war in which your thoughts brought you down morally.

"Hey kiddo, don't just stand there, we have to go now, don't forget your things."

Heat gave you a little push on the shoulder, taking you out of your train of thought, as if the world had returned to its normal speed, you nodded, leaving to pick up your bow, arrows and those new poisons that you had been making in your little laboratory inside Kid's workshop.

Wire, who came right after you left, narrowed his eyes, watching as your hunched figure faded through the dining room door, sharing a look with his companion as if they read each other's thoughts. They were both the first to notice how you seemed more subdued and distant every day, as they found themselves spending more time with you, although at first they attributed it to you simply being tired, something told them it was something deeper than simple tiredness.

"Do you think something's wrong with the boy? He's been avoiding spending time on the deck lately."

Heat nodded at his friend's question, knowing that you seemed to be avoiding everyone lately, making a mental note to ask you about it, both of them split up to get their weapons as well, they were going to rob a small town in about ten minutes.

Your gaze was lost, focused on your bow, lips in a thin line, you clenched your fist around the weapon, startling when you felt a huge, cold hand against your head, Kid had a habit of giving you caresses on the head a little roughly before a battle, a strange feeling stirred inside you, something that you supposed was good since it was not the same feeling you had when you experienced anger.

"Be careful and all that, but above all, crush them."

Kid was certainly not the most encouraging person, but taking a few minutes with you before each battle made you feel good, a small, shaky smile decorated your face for a few seconds, unknowingly, your captain's words had added more weight to your shoulders, of course, not intentionally, but you would feel like a complete useless if you did not do your job well.

The moments before and during battle always become a blur of images, as if you have no control over your own body, leaving it on autopilot, just shooting from a distance, only physically intervening if some idiot dares to get too close to your position.

You didn't have to make much physical effort most of the time, you conserved a lot of energy by having a more defensive position, leaving the action and enjoyment to your bloodthirsty comrades, but your enemies were not in front at the moment, your own immune system was the one who decided to give you a rear stab, like a traitor. Your senses began to fail and immediately fear settled in the pit of your stomach, a strange and unexpected sensation, your body began to tremble even when you insensitized it with your skill, your hands, your legs began to not respond, the tingling at the tip of your fingers intensified and it seemed as if your skin was cracked and dry.

The failure in your system made you fall from the tree you were in, with your senses completely disoriented you began to feel pain like small needles sticking into every corner of your body, your chest rose and fell rapidly, your pharynx seemed to close like a snake taking your breath away in a deadly strangulation.

Killer, who was the closest to your position, was the one who heard the smack of your body against the ground, as well as your weak moans, giving you a sidelong glance, his body went cold in a second as he saw how you struggled to stay conscious, forgetting about his main task, although it was practically finished, he immediately went to you.

"Hey, hey, are you okay? Damn, have you been attacked? Please listen to me, try to be with me just a little longer and don't lose consciousness... kiddo? kiddo!"

He shook your body carefully, trying not to touch the parts of your skin exposed and full of scars, Killer despaired when you began to close your eyes, taking you in his arms quickly, returning to the safety of the Victoria Punk, completely confused by your sudden fainting, yes, he knew that sometimes you left your own skin at work, in battles, but you always seemed to be full of energy, ready for another assault, what happened this time? There were no enemies around.

It was the day after that event, you met up with the group of four, Heat, Wire, Kid and Killer looked at you expectantly, making you shrink in your own place, you didn't know how to start talking, you felt pressured, caged at that moment, there were so many things you wanted to say and yet so few words with which to explain yourself. You didn't speak that day, or the next, or the following week, which got on the crew's nerves, although they weren't the friendliest or funniest pirates, they were still like a family and despite not showing it to the outside, they all had a deep concern for your state, so broken and fragile being a simple teenager.

Wire had to stop his captain from exploding at you because of this whole strange atmosphere of uncertainty, and if it weren't for Killer, who decided to take matters into his own hands, Kid would surely have taken out his problems with an argument, luckily, his best friend and co-captain was much gentler, perhaps, one of the only people on board who could make you understand in a less complex way the feelings of duality you were going through.

Of course, you released some emotional weight after a long talk with Killer, it didn't make all your worries go away, the chronic illness will haunt you until the end of your days, it was something you had to bear and accept, and they would take care of keeping your mind away from bad thoughts.

They don't know how they'll do it either, solving such complicated, emotional and personal problems wasn't something they had much experience with, but they'll go through this process together, they promised that you'd never have to feel that way again, that you'd never go through that again, but it'll still take you some time, the most pessimistic thoughts are the ones that take root the most in the mind and destroy it, but at least, they already have somewhere to start.

[macabrecake]

wifey, I got smth to ask you 🥺

can I ask for just getting my back blown out by infinite darkness Leon somewhere in the White House after the zombie attack?

Just him in that blue suit??

(also pls add some praise kink in there, I beg)

Gabby my beloved! Ask you shall receive! 💖

Minors step off from here please and thank you.

The White House…

Of all the zombie attacks Leon has had to bear witness to, forced to carry the mental and physical scars from, survived. The White House was the last place he'd ever expect to be hit. He can't say he's surprised though. Even now as he discusses with Jason on the subject of who started this with what virus, his adrenaline is shot. Not even fully taking in the conversation when his mind is on something else.

Or rather someone else.

Luckily, his search was brief when you just so happen to hastily round the corner and search before locking eyes with him. Your dire look of concern immediately falls away to relief at the sight of him, he can't but smile at that but the feeling is mutual.

He's quick to leave Jason and close what felt like a mile long distance between you two. As soon as your arms are around each other, you feel his larger stature softly squeeze your hips and gently scoot you along. A silent request to take you away for some much deserved privacy.

And you couldn't be more happy to oblige.

You let Leon pull you away from prying eyes into a nearby office and lock the door. Let him steal your breath with a ravishing kiss while he scoops you up with large, warm hands planted firmly on your ass. Let him manhandle you as he bends you over the desk and hikes the lower part of your dress up. Putting your soaked through lace panties on full display to show just how badly you need him.

It's truly a sight he'll never grow tired of.

Unable to resist, his hand ghosts down the skin of your backside to press his thumb against your weeping little pearl, still hidden behind the thin, soiled fabric. It elicits a soft breathy whine from you that Leon can't help but chuckle at, "Sorry sunshine, just love when you get messy like this."

Any other day the agent would love to tease you and draw this out a little more but, he just doesn't have the time and most certainly not the patience. With his pants quickly undone and pulled down just enough for his cock to be freed from it's restraints, his fingers suddenly tug your underwear to the side and sinks himself into your welcoming heat in one thrust.

The moan that escapes you would've most definitely drawn attention if it weren't for his hand clasping over your mouth to silence you, followed by sweet searing kisses pressed to your neck as he sets a rough, needy pace.

"That's it…" The dirty blonde softly coos into your ear, delighted with how your pussy squeezes the entirety of his length everytime he sinks back in with a rhythmic slap. "That's my good girl."

His words pour from his lips onto your body like the sweetest liquor, one you'll never deny and hope to stay intoxicated by everyday. Leon softly smiles into your hair. Because he knows it. Knows exactly what praise like that does to you. Your cute little muffled whimper and the desperate rock of your hips to meet his thrusts is all the answer he needs.

"Yeah, you're my good girl." He rumbles out in that low pretty groan. "Fuck, you were made to take me this good weren't you?" His composure soon shatters for a moment, leading him to bury his face in the crook of your neck with a hiss in an attempt to mask his own noise. Leon's voice then falls to a whisper, a secret uttered into your love stained skin that only you could keep.

"God you're perfect."

It's too much, in the best way possible. Tears of pure bliss fall from your eyes as you grace that edge of heaven, while your fingers card through his hair and hold on for dear life. His hand coming around to press the rough, warm pads of his fingers against your intimacy however, is what ultimately tips you over.

A soft cry tumbles into his hand as your orgasm leaves you quivering within his hold. Leon's thrusts instantly slow down to help you ride out your high, squishing your smaller frame between his body and the desk more while you gush on his fingers and around his cock before going still.

Your breath comes out in a quiet pant as you come back down from your cloud nine, that is until you release a sudden squeak when Leon slowly starts up his rhythm again. In his defense, eyeing the way your cunt throbbed and dripped around his dick was too fucking hot to ignore.

You're quick to pick your head up and look back at him. Only to meet his lips smashing against yours in another feverish kiss, swallowing your pretty sounds like a shot of his favorite whiskey.

The agent then pulls away, but just slightly, to softly speak. "Come on Princess, you can give me one more. Can't you?"

Seeing how handsomely disheveled he looks in that navy blue suit- hair messily sticking to his skin, cheeks flushed a wonderful shade of red, plush lips parted to let out his quiet huffs, and those pretty ocean eyes blown with all the love he has for you. Oh yeah, you most certainly accept another round.

You're Leon Scott Kennedy's good girl after all.

[gaybananabread]

Hii!!! This is gonna be a long one lol and also I feel a bit weird so sorry in advance🙏🙏 had this random idea about day 11 where it was hurt/comfort, percy jackson heroes of olympus, lee!leo ler!will and leo has to stop by the infirmary after coming back to life to just make sure everything’s alright and he was having a shit day and Will notices and asks him about it and he tells Will about all the things he’d been through (throughout the books or what we’re told previously), and Will gives him a hug and is comforting him and stuff and he accidentally tks him and asks for confirmation if it’s okay and then hugs him and tks him

I KNOW THATS A LOT SO I TOTALLY UNDERSTAND IF YOU CAN’T TAKE THIS ONE OR IF YOU’D PREFER NOT TO BUT WHICHEVER WAY THAT ENDS UP BEING THANK YOU AND I HOPE YOU HAVE. AGOOD DAY/geN

TickleTober Day 11 - Hug

~Uhm, HELLO?!? I LOVE this prompt! Never feel bad for giving me a lot; I love hearing y'all's ideas! (⁠ ^w^ ⁠) It's been a hot second since I've read the books, so I'm sorry if they feel OOC. This takes place in The Hidden Oracle when Leo shows up at Camp HB. Thank you so much for requesting, and I hope you Enjoy!~

Lee: Leo Valdez

Ler: Will Solace

Summary: Leo is feeling like flaming garbage after returning to camp. He visits Will to make sure everything inside him is how it should be. Luckily, the healer knows just how to mend his broken spirits.

Warnings: spoilers for HOO and TOA! This is a tickle fic, so if you don't like that, scroll away!!

“Please keep off that leg for a few days, okay? I know it feels fine, but I don't want you damaging any tissue that didn't fully heal.”

Will smiled tiredly as he sent off the last injured camper from his medical tent. The Colossus had done quite a bit of damage; he'd been helping folks almost the entire day.

With a groan, the blonde collapsed on a clean cot, running a hand down his face. He missed the sound of the tent flap opening, keeping his eyes closed.

“Uh…howdy, stranger.”

The boy jolted upwards, grabbing the nearest item and pointing it at the intruder somewhat menacingly. His face fell when he noticed that, one, he was holding a glove balloon he'd made for an upset camper, and two, Leo was the one in the opening.

“Oh…Leo! Hey, sorry about…yeah. I'm just frazzled.” Will lowered his “weapon,” hopping off the cot to greet the boy. “What's up?”

“You're cool, man. Just wanted to get a checkup, make sure all my insides came back right.” Leo chuckled, poking his own side in an attempt to lighten the mood. He and Will weren't super close; he didn't want things to be awkward.

“Right…right! How could I forget?!” Will immediately sprung up, reinvigorated by guilt and frantic panic. What if Leo's intestines didn't come back right?! It was a godly cure, and they weren't always keen on demigod safety…

“Woah- hey! It's cool, man, it's cool! You've been busy; we're good.” Leo smiled, though it was a little off-putting to Will. He seemed…less. Less excited, less energetic, less snarky.

Less himself.

After he had Leo situated on the cot, he tried to sneakily ask him how he was doing during the checkup. The fiery demigod didn't seem like the type to readily discuss his feelings.

“So how have things been since…ya know.” Will awkwardly asked as he checked Leo's reflexes. The boy's leg kicked out healthily.

“Interesting, I guess. Wish I'd gotten a cool scar or something. Would've been worth it,” Leo joked, though a small part of him was serious. A sick, bad-boy scar wouldn't have been the worst side effect.

“Hmm. Alright…” Now Will was worried; jokes like that weren't a sigh of good mental health. He'd sacrificed himself to save them, but he'd done it pretty secretively.

“Can I touch here? I need to give you a quick physical.” Will pointed to his middle, not wanting to move forward until he had consent. With Leo's nod, he continued.

“I mean, it wasn't horrid, ya know?” Leo began to ramble, trying to fill the semi-awkward silence. It was suffocating. “Sure, it hurt, but… I didn't see the underworld or anything. No real damage done!”

“Leo…” The blonde paused, furrowing his brows. Nope: that was getting addressed.

“Are you okay? Mentally, physically, all of it?”

The brunette bit his lip, feeling his eyes water. Damn it! He'd been trying so hard to stay upbeat; he'd just have to lie.

“I…” Leo's voice broke, and he cursed himself for it. Before he could bury his face in his hands and combust, a strong pair of arms wrapped around him.

“It's okay, Leo. You don't have to be perfectly happy. You're allowed to feel broken.” Will's voice was steady and soothing as he reassured the shorter boy, squeezing him just tightly enough to feel secure.

For a few minutes, Leo just melted into the embrace, letting the tears and the sounds that came with them flow. He'd been bottling up so much since he was revived, and even beforehand.

When it felt like his lungs weren't trying to kill him, Leo attempted to speak. He hated how weak his voice sounded.

“Sorry, I…yeah. Didn't mean to fall apart.” Leo's gaze fell, though quickly snapped back up when he fell Will pull away. The other boy's hands remained on his shoulders, grounding him.

“There's nothing to be sorry for, Leo. You needed to cry after literally dying and coming back to life. That's completely valid.”

How could that boy be so calming, yet make him so sad?! Leo blamed Apollo children's poetry skills.

“O-okay, okay, I get it! Quit making me all mushy, you jerk,” Leo snapped, though he instantly melted back into the hug when Will pulled him in.

“Just making sure you remember.” Will chuckled fondly, feeling a protective urge wash over him. He wanted Leo to feel safe and secure. “You wanna talk about it?”

“I…yeah. Yeah, actually, I do.” Leo nodded, feeling a bit surprised by himself. He usually hated talking about his feelings, but Will was such a nice friend; he felt secure enough to open up.

Leo told him about everything: his mother, the Wilderness camp, the fear of making his decision, the guilt from lying to his friends on the Argo II, the all-encompassing agony he'd endured during his death, the guilt he still felt from making his friends cry and coming back after Jason was gone.

Will listened to all of it, still holding Leo and helping him vent. While most of the content was saddening and serious, the blonde was happy Leo was getting it out.

“I just don't know what to do, ya know? How do I stop feeling so…ick?” Leo splayed his fingers out, trying to show his general unease with his hands.

“There's a few ways, though everyone copes differently. What're you hoping to feel instead of ‘ick’?” Will spoke gently, trying not to use too many big, mentally-concious words. It was still a miracle that Leo opened up at all.

“I dunno…happy, I guess? Less heavy. I wanna go back to feeling like I'm alive, rather than…well, ya know. Burdened.” Leo laughed at that; it felt weird to actually say “burdened” in context.

Will searched his mind, trying to remember something that would help. His thoughts wandered to one of Nico’s bad days, remembering how he'd cheered the boy up. That could work…

“Do you trust me?”

“What?” Leo tilted his head, wondering why Will just suddenly asked that. Random… “Uh, yeah. Why?”

“Hold your arms out. If you hate it, tell me to stop, and I will.” Will's words were cryptic, of course; he didn't wanna spook Leo by outright asking for the goofy permission. He really did think it would help.

“Uh, okay?” Leo did as he was told, holding his arms out by his sides. The scenario felt vaguely familiar, though he couldn't place why.

Will wrapped his arms around Leo's middle once again, holding him close. Before the son of Hephaestus could question him, he felt ten wiggling fingers on each of his sides.

“Pfft- whahahahat?! Wihill!” Leo squirmed in place, his arms snapping down to his sides. Will's were already blocking the way, so he couldn't really protect himself from the tickles.

“What? Everyone needs a good laugh sometimes. These are a good way to lighten up.” Will shrugged, settling his chin on Leo's shoulder. He could feel the abnormal heat radiating off the boy, but it only made him even more comfy.

“S-seheheriously? Thihis is duhuhumb!” Wriggling around, Leo tried to pry Will's hands off. Thanks to their position, he could really only swipe at the blonde's forearms and complain.

“If you don't like it, just tell me to stop. You know I will.”

Ugh, that wasn't fair! Leo didn't actually want him to stop, but he was basically making him admit that! It was ruining his bad boy image!

“Shuhut uhuhup, Solace!”

That made Will's dumb grin double in size. Leo couldn't see it, but the sunshine boy was really happy that he was enjoying the tickles. One, he found another friend that enjoyed them, and two, he was actually helping Leo feel better. Two birds, one stone!

“I wonder if your ribs are ticklish…” Will thought out loud, moving his hands up to scribble on the backs of Leo's ribcage. He wasn't disappointed; belly laughter quickly replaced the giggles, filling Will's ears.

“CRAHAHAHAP!” Leo's warm hands settled on Will's shoulders, squeezing as he tried not to violently squirm. A very not-nice word slipped through his laughter, making Will gasp.

“Leo Valdez! Language!” Will pretended to be angry, doubling down on the rib tickles. Okay, maybe that was hypocritical—he’d said much worse during stressful moments—but it was too fun to pass up. “I won't tolerate profanity in my med bay!”

Leo snorted—dear gods, snorted—as the sensations intensified; he was losing control of himself. His hands were heating up more and more, and that only led to one thing.

“OHOKAHAHAY! *snort* STOHOHOP!”

Will immediately stopped the tickling, switching to rubbing gentle circles on Leo's back. His palms rubbed over the backs of the giggly boy's ribs, helping to ease the phantom sensations.

Leo flexed his hands as he calmed down, feeling the heat recede back into his arms and deep into his chest. Despite nearly losing control, he felt…really damn good.

“W-wohow.”

“See? Told you it would help.” Will's fond tone was appreciated, though it appealed to Leo's more mischievous side; he was already plotting revenge.

“Fihine, yeah, you were right.” Leo tried to be sarcastic, but the weight had been lifted off his chest. Even if it was only temporary, he felt relieved. “Thanks, Will. Seriously.”

“No problem, Leo. If you ever need another quick dose, I'm always here.” Will gave Leo's side a little poke, earning a giggly growl.

“Watch it, Solace. You've got one coming.” Leo gave the blonde one last hug before heading out of the tent, feeling ten pounds lighter than when he entered. He was definitely going to return the favor…

Will smiled, quickly sanitizing the cot Leo was on before allowing himself to fully relax. Man, that was fun; the stress from before was gone, leaving him tired, but happy.

After a few minutes of rest, he hauled himself out of his cot and went to find Nico. Some cuddles would be the perfect way to end such a busy day. And hey, maybe he'd drop a few hints about Leo's treatment.

Laughter is the best medicine, after all...

[flightfoot]

Hello! By any chance, do you have any outsider pov ml fics to rec? As in, fics focusing on a side character being like "damn these guys are acting WEIRD and i'm mildly worried about that." Or maybe identity reveal fics where the reveal is for someone who isn't marinette or adrien?

Hmmm... let me see what I've got...

Also I'm a little confused about you asking for "the reveal is for someone who isn't marinette or adrien?" Do you mean for it to be TO someone who isn't Marinette or Adrien, or are you actually asking for someone who isn't Marinette or Adrien to reveal their identity? I'm tossing Hawkmoth in there as well, because if I included Hawkmoth reveal fics, there'd be way too many. (..okay so I might have included a Hawkmoth Reveal as well, the Markov Alliance is too good to pass up)

Anyway, I'll see what I can come up with!

So after looking through, I have a lot that fit at least some of the criteria, including a lot of older fics. I hope you enjoy! I've got 22 fics for you to peruse, all completed.

---

Shellter Chat by Bridgetinerabbit

A peek inside Adrien's school bag gives Nino some very unexpected insight as to what makes his good friend tick, but leaves him in a very delicate position. He never expected to strike a deal with the Kwami of Destruction, but now he and Plagg are working together to relieve some of Adrien's (and Chat Noir's) burdens for his own good. But being Adrien's guardian angel isn't as easy as it seems; other secret identities start falling apart, and there's no telling where the falling dominoes will stop.

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Just Act Normal by hazel562

After a body-swap akuma sees the return of Lady Noire and Mister Bug, Alya can't work out why Adrien, and particularly Marinette, are behaving so strangely…

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Chasing a Dream by @generalluxun

Things don't quite go Felix's way at the end of S4, leading to a second attempt of the 'First Love' Tour. Lila plans to use the tour to wheedle her way into Gabriel's confidences and secure Adrien's hand. Marinette overhears Lila's plan. Marinette reacts in a calm and rational manner. Who am I kidding? She stokes Chloé's bruised ego to enlist her help to chase after the tour, in the hopes of foiling Lila's plans. Akumas spring up along their path, texts with Adrien grow more deep, Cat Noir appears where he should not be, and through it all Marinette is forced to interact with a girl who has been a huge part of her life in all the worst ways up until now. What truths can be discovered though, halfway around the world and away from prying eyes?

---

A Small but Stubborn Fire by @cardiac-agreste

What if you were the parent of a teenage superhero, but didn't know they were? All you know is the nightmares, the panic attacks, and the bruises. She's missing school, she's disappearing on you, and she's not telling you anything. So you assume the worst: Assault. Depression. A permanent rift in the family. And what do you do when you realize you weren't thinking dark enough? Because your fourteen-year old daughter is the hero who flirts with death on the nightly news. -- Come inside and read about one mother's struggles to raise her daughter in a dangerous world while avoiding the mistakes her own mother made with her.

This is a more serious take on the consequences of Hawk Moth's war on Paris, with actual bloody, painful deaths as a consequence of many akumas, and Parisians developing PTSD because of what they've gone through. Ladybug can fix all the physical scars, but not the mental ones, including her own.

I love the focus on Sabine here. She's not just presented as being a mom - though of course that IS an important role she has. But she's explored as a character in her own right, one with a lot of emotional baggage as a result of her abusive mother, and trying to not fall into her mistakes, but sometimes doing so anyway out of fear for Marinette's safety. She's a really fleshed out, humanly flawed character, sometimes admitting that she would do something selfish if it means protecting the people she cares most about, like her daughter, even if its at others expense. She grows and changes a lot throughout the course of the story, her perspective on many matters changing multiple times as a result of getting new information or seeing the consequences of her previous approaches, and adjusting as a result.

If you want a fic that more realistically explores the dark consequences of Miraculous's setting, that fleshes out Sabine, or just develops a character in a complex way, then I highly recommend you check "A Small but Stubborn Fire" out!

---

theory bored by @14muffinz

You’re not supposed to theorise about who your partner is, Tikki had scolded, glaring at Luka as he continued to map out his entire theory, abbreviating as many miraculous-related names as he could feasibly remember. To be fair, it’s a lot, so it’s not like this would be much if anyone were to get their hands on it. He’d sighed, capped his marker, and turned around as though he was going to clean up the board. And then, because Tikki unfortunately taught him just how stubborn he could get if he really wanted to, he calls for his transformation while facing the other way. [OR: Ladybug Luka, Black Cat Juleka, and a reveal.]

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You'll be the prince and I'll be the princess by @mexicancat-girl

With Team Miraculous now full-time holders, Ladybug has them patrolling in pairs like her and Chat Noir. New partners Pigella and Purple Tigress get along phenomenally, their easy banter and similar wavelengths making working with each other a joy in and out of combat. But sometimes Tigress is surprised just how close she is with her partner. Sometimes she tries not to feel too guilty thinking about it.

There’s some nice Julerose here! I love them kinda getting into a lovesquare with each other, though it’s not as much of a problem as it is in canon since it’s reciprocal in every relationship and they’re both down for a poly. It’s fun, and I love the “Luka attempting to woo some of his love interests” plot going on in the background XD.

---

the funniest coincidence of them all by shireith

“I wore it just for you,” Adrien told Alya. “So you don’t have any trouble telling me apart from Chat Noir.” “You’re so annoying right now you might just have convinced me you’re Chat Noir.” “I am Chat Noir.” “And I’m Rena Rouge.” What the hell was happening and why did it look so familiar? ---

Or, in which Marinette, Adrien and Alya share several brain cells, problem is they’re all Alya’s.

---

Alya Cesaire Should Be Allowed To Swear by stripesandblossoms

Akuma attacks don't stop just because Alya is no longer a Hero, but that's fine, because she can still help clear civilians from the danger zone. Even celebrity-friends like Adrien Agreste.

Hey guys this is an amazing one-shot, even with as short as it is. I love how it goes into Alya’s thoughts and feelings about why she doesn’t swear (because you can’t do that on-air as a journalist and she has little sisters that she can’t swear around anyway) and her coming up with ways to suppress her swears when she’s tempted.

Then of course, she finds out a secret that makes all of that go out the window…

Seriously this is really funny, please read it!

---

You Don't Have to Pretend with Me by @kasienda

Nino didn’t not like Chat Noir. He thought the dude was cool and hilarious. His sense of humor reminded him of Adrien. Things hadn’t always been tense between them. When they fought back to back during Heroes’ Day it had felt like they were brothers. But it was clear to him that Chat Noir wasn’t his biggest fan. The other hero was always welcoming and kind to Rena Rouge when she joined the team, but he had always been somewhat aloof with Carapace. And Chat Noir had been especially different around him after Rocketear. but it wasn’t like Chat Noir knew that Nino and Carapace were the same person, so why had he started avoiding Carapace? … Adrien couldn’t figure out why things between Adrien and Nino had always been so easy when things between Chat Noir and Carapace felt so hard. Like, he knew he was different as Chat, but he was far less different as Adrien with Nino than anyone else. Or he had been before… Rocketear. And now? Now, he had no idea how he was supposed to act. Had no idea what Nino wanted from Chat Noir, but it was very clear he wasn’t measuring up.

---

The Markov Alliance by CrochetJellybean

Slight spoilers for season 5! Markov was excited to use Max's class time to learn more about the AI system within the Alliance rings. In his exploration, he accidentally discovers a chat room of 14 non-humans connected to the Alliance network, so he decides to join it.

This was hilarious and fun and heartwarming. Markov accidentally stumbling across the kwamis and them hinting as best they could about what to do and who to tell about them (as best they could without spewing out bubbles) was great, along with the Miracuclass’s reaction to finding out about them.

Also their groupchat name is “plagg is oblivious” due to Plagg not figuring out that Nooroo was in the same house as him all this time, which is just perfect XD. I’ve reread this fic several times, it’s so good and bite-sized!

---

The Investigation by @11jj11

Adrien and Marinette are finally dating-- which is what Alya has always wanted... but yet this sudden transformation in their relationship overnight? Things aren't adding up. They are suddenly so much closer than they ever have been before, Adrien is apparently a flirt, Marinette is no longer a stuttering mess, and not to mention the nicknames that came out of no where. Alya is happy for her friends, but she knows there's something more going on, and the reporter in her is going to get to the bottom of it.

---

I Know, You Know by @mirrankei

They weren't technically a couple, but Alya knew one day they would be. Ladybug loved Chat Noir, but they had a job to do, and relationships could be dangerous. Alya could accept that. She knew in her heart that on the day the five of them (eight, ten, twelve of them) defeated Hawkmoth once and for all, Chat Noir would take Ladybug in his arms - no, wait, Ladybug would take Chat Noir in her arms - and finally share that romantic kiss all of Paris was waiting for. They would tell each other who they are and fall in love all over again, safe in their victory. Then it turned out Ladybug was Marinette, so that went out the window. Because Marinette only had eyes for Adrien, and Alya was way more invested in that ship than any superhero stuff.  --- for prompt "Lovesquare"

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caline bustier and the heroes' awful mental health by lollyposp

Caline liked to think she was a good teacher - she’d adapted well to the systems put in place by the akuma attacks, she’d adapted to the various incidents within her classroom, and learned the best way to seat her students, in order to minimise the risk of arguments within the classroom that could potentially draw Papillon to her room once again. Sometimes, though, she felt powerless to help her students. OR: in which madame bustier tries to help her students, but she's missing a key part of the puzzle (hint: it's their identities)

---

Everything I Need by @coffeebanana

When Ladybug asks Pigella to care for her injured teammate, she wants to refuse. She's not the best person for the job, and she's not sure if Purple Tigress even likes her. But Ladybug insists, so Pigella fights through her fear and tends to Tigress' injury. It doesn't make things any easier that Tigress keeps reminding her of Juleka.

---

Walking That Mile by @nomolosk

Nino and Alya wake up in the wrong bodies. Several things result from this, including, but not limited to, identity reveals and a better understanding of what their respective best friends are going through.

Never knew I needed Nino!Plagg and Alya!Tikki in my life, but there you go XD. It’s not all fun and games though, this is a Hawkmoth Takedown fic as well, and dealing with the effects of that.

---

Off the Mark by @buggachat

Ever since Nino's (frankly embarrassing) akumatization into Rocketear, Chat Noir's behavior had taken a strange and sudden turn in the presence of Carapace, and Nino could only think of one possible explanation: Chat Noir hated him. Somehow, Adrien didn't seem to agree.

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Markov Knows All by @11jj11

Markov has a few questions.

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Shipping Status: In Transit by @katieykat513

Shipping wars, they get the best of us, don't they? Even these four friends....

---

Aspik Hate Club by MyImaginationFlows

Ladybug just cannot get over how horrible Aspik looked like with the snake miraculous. Frustrated by unmet expectations, she decides to rant to Chat Noir about it. Suddenly, he’s being accused of being a terrorist and is strapped to a chair surrounded by Carapace, Ladybug, and Rena Rouge. How did a conversation about himself end up with him being put on trial for being Hawkmoth?

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A Reveal of Necessity by alexanderxbetsey

Alya walks in on Chat kissing Marinette

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Strategic Missteps by Platonic_Ideals

Sabine wanted to plan a spa trip for her daughter, but it ended with her hiding from an akuma with her daughter's crush. Now Sabine has the responsibility of supporting Adrien's alter ego while managing her fear for his future.

---

questions she knows by finleyblue

Carapace laughs uneasily. This is bad. “Sorry, I’ve really got to skip.” He jabs a finger behind him, making no move to leave. Alya folds her arms and raises one eyebrow. “Nino. I am not that dumb.” _____ Alya interviews Carapace for the Ladyblog, and Nino panics.

[short-for-melancholy]

Intro post, intro post... this'll do for now

Hi hi! Mel's not my real name, she's just a character of mine, but you can call me that and I'll respond to it. I'm a writer with little to show for it. I like cats, creating fantasy characters, and collecting and cataloging isekai anime.

I'm aroace so whatever you do, don't flirt with me<3

the following is a collection of information about my ocs! you can click their names for a link to their associated posting tag.

Girlie Compendium

Mel

24, 5'6", cis, lesbian, human

it's not actually short for melancholy, she's just mel. as a child, mel's family died protecting her and she was left orphaned in the street. with nothing left to live for, but unable to justify suicide after her family's sacrifice, mel picked up a blade and threw herself into adventuring, hoping to die excusably in an attempt to provide for herself. 18 years later, she finds herself the strongest swordsman alive, having survived encounters with every monster shes come across, though not without scars. she has no special skills or magic, but her ability to fight without fearing death and her natural combat prowess have served her frustratingly well. mel leads a solitary, untethered life, as expected of one who never expects to make it home. her most notable wound is her missing left hand, which was incinerated when she first fought a dragon at age 12. since dragonfire wounds never fully recover, she has to keep much of her arm bandaged to keep the smouldering flesh from spreading further.

Hikari Ni'naritai

25, 5'4", cis, aroace, moon miqote

(art by @atelier-aria)

hikari is my final fantasy 14 warrior of light character. a former conscript of the garlean military in othard, hikari changed her name and defected to eorzea in an attempt to escape her vicious past. if youre not familiar with japanese, 'hikari ni naritai' translates to 'i want to become light', and she's made this a personal creed. her story after defecting follows the events of the game pretty closely, though her meteoric rise to the status of Hero did untold damage to her mental health. her favorite things include fighting, sugary sweets, costuming, and fishing. she started adventuring as a mage, but shes too stupid to cast spells and is much more comfortable in a physical role. her primary driving force is her need to be a perfect, shining example of infallible heroism, and her secondary motivation is redeeming her enemies, because as the worst person to ever walk the earth, she has to believe that everyone can change so she can believe in her own change.

Aoi Furukane

28, [height to be updated, shes shorter tho], cis, bisexual polyamorous, au ra

aoi is hikari's normie friend! they met on the ship to vesper bay, separated when aoi continued to limsa, but met back up again later. aoi left a comfortable life in kugane to go where the wind takes her, which happened to be adventuring in eorzea. she was present with hikari through stormblood, but didnt take part in shadowbringers, and now serves in a more supportive role as hikari's problems become more and more world-threatening. she did go to the new world with her for dawntrail though, as a vacation that quickly went out of control. even when shes not involved though, aoi serves as hikari's confidant and closest friend. she was the first to learn about her past and often lends an ear to her depressed ramblings. aoi's a mage and a healer. her hobbies include scrapbooking, crochet, wearing leather jackets, and helping cid finalfantasy test fucked up motorcycles.

Euthalia "Lia" Pontikos

1024, 6', cis, pansexual aromantic, elf

Lia is a monument to my hubris. she is the epitome of what i believe a wizard is. lia is an elf who has exactly two hobbies: studying magic and having weird polymorph sex. she's always looking for new knowledge and experiences, but she has trouble forming connections with others and doesnt emote well. after pioneering and mastering magic as an adventurer, lia grew bored and developed a spell to travel to a different random universe, where she would be able to study the magic there from scratch. she's repeated this process numerous times, visiting a number of worlds and developing a minor interest in cataloguing curious similarities between worlds, until she landed on a world that didn't have magic. luckily, it was technologically advanced enough for her to get a job working on warp speed space travel, and she stole their prototype ship to escape that universe in a desperate gamble. she's now spent the last 500 or so years searching for a way to gain some kind of inborn magic to use in case of similar emergencies. she hasnt managed it yet.

Anestesia "Nest" Blackmoor

17, 5'7", girl-adjacent (she/they), demisexual lesbian, human

Nest is the daughter of two shitty nobles. Due to her poor behavior as a child, her parents sent her to a remote boarding school to learn proper decorum. this did not work, obviously. she often snuck out to play with a family of orcs she found while exploring the woods around the school, where she learned to fight. nest's primary hobby is getting into unnecessary fist fights, and their second hobby is protecting girls. occasionally these goals align but mostly she just likes fighting. surprisingly, nest is actually smart, and she picked up a baseline level of magic at school, which she's been working to incorporate with her swordplay. nest is still figuring out her sexuality but im sure if they find a girl to protect, that will sort itself out pretty quick.

Violet

real age ???, physical age 14, 4'8", Girl Presumably, aroace, human?

(art by @s-lycopersicum)

violet has a few iterations, like an automaton created by a vampire horologist, but in her primary iteration she was a mid-tier modron in Mechanus in the service of the god of order Primus. modrons can be promoted from one tier to a higher tier when a spot needs filled, and by a similar process violet was 'promoted' to a human, as a sort of experiment to see if order could be restored to the material plane in this way. however, between the confusion of the human experience and her lack of clear orders (she was simply ordered to Increase Order), violet was a failure. she woke up in a dark bedroom, so she put everything in the room in alphabetical order and left through the window, where she walked due north until she luckily came to a city with a temple to primus in it. a worker there named Enba (created by @neurodecadence) took pity on her and allowed her to stay, where she was given a name and earned her keep organising the library every day. after a year, she felt the presence of her god leave her and realised she somehow misunderstood their directions. now she is searching for a new way to bring Order. violet has a curious interest in fashion, though she doesnt understand it at all. she's red-green colourblind. she reorganises her things every day, with different sorting methods. she gives off the air of something very obviously trying to imitate a human girl, but in a cute way rather than an unsettling way.

Valyrie

35, 6'3", trans woman, demisexual lesbian, half-elf

valyrie was orphaned when her hometown was burned down. she was rescued by a priestess of a temple and taken in, where she was raised as a holy assassin. she's a proper follower of the god they worship, but her duties to the church come second to her quest for vengeance against the person who destroyed her home and family. officially, her title is Priestess, and she introduces herself as such, but she prefers to wear a priest's outfit. she likes the pants. she keeps most of her body covered to hide her burn scars. valyrie's physique is most similar to a starved child stretched on a torture rack. she rarely smiles because her smile scares children. she's soft-spoken but firm. she could sneak a knife into a public bath.

Dr. Anarcha "Ann" Marion

30, 5'6", cis, lesbian, human

Ann Marion got her medical license revoked for performing experimental healing magic on a patient, resulting in his death. the patient was doomed anyway, and she only did it as a last resort, but it was determined that the pain experienced by the patient caused him to go into shock, accelerating his death and therefore placing the blame firmly on Dr. Marion's shoulders. despite healing magic being the domain of the divine, dr marion is more attempting to replicate the effects through intellectual arcane means. she rejects the gods for creating humanity to be so eminently fallible and murderable. her goal is to overcome death and evil through advanced medical technology. she has since completed her work on her healing spell (including an anesthetic preparation) and continues to experiment with more advanced healing. in its early stages, dr marion's healing spells would leave a visible herringbone-pattern scar, but she's perfected it now. she has several of those scars on left her arm from where she practiced on herself. she has a pet adder that she's modified to replace its venom with healing potion. her primary combat spells are for healing, but she does also work with necrotic spells, poisons, and diseases for damage.

Cassidy

32, 5'11", trans woman, lesbian, half-elf

cassidy comes from a very large family. her parents are a legendary 5-member adventuring-party-turned-polycule who've spawned a catastrophic number of exceptional children. each of her dozens of older siblings are independently famous or powerful in some way, including her identical twin brother. cassidy took a more mellow path in life and got married. unfortunately, her wife died in childbirth, and cassidy did not deal with it well. she left their child with her wife's parents and went off to try and find herself adventuring, even though she knows she'll never live up to her family's reputation and skills. she is so tired. currently partied up with Caroline.

Adela, Witch of the Veil

???, 7', cis, aromantic lesbian, erstwhile elf

Adela is the rotting corpse of an ancient evil reanimated by a god of peace and forced to serve. she hates this so so much. she once subjugated the world as the dreaded Witch of the Veil, leading terrible armies against the forces of good and laying waste to whole cities with a single wave of her staff or swing of her blade. now, adela is forced to do good deeds and protect others under penalty of death. she cannot even suggest violence. as such, she relishes any opportunity to kill afforded to her by her work as an adventurer, though such privileges must be granted by her church-assigned handler. her primary goal is to reclaim the relics of her ascension from the old days (her Veil, her Blade, and her Staff) so she can break the god's hold on her and resume her quest of world domination. critically, this will not work.

Elyria

23, 5'3", cis (derogatory), bisexual, human

Elyria is an annoying nightmare of a woman who shows up in a number of universes and has been noted by Lia as a 'curious and irritating multiversal semiconstant'. she's an accomplished and deadly assassin with a talent for arcane magic and a fanatical obsession with the holiest god she can find in whatever universe has spawned her. she dedicates all her kills to the god she worships and claims her arcane tricks are divine magic granted to her because she is a holy servant of the lord. she frequently uses a nun's habit as a disguise for her work, and she also uses it to indulge in her nun kink. sometimes these two goals intertwine. its her greatest joy to defile the divine with her earnest, misguided worship. whatever god she worships hates her so so much and wants her dead. shes dumb as hell and i love her.

étoile

???, 3', sexless girl, aroace, doll

étoile was created by a mad wizard in the throes of apotheostic euphoria as a tool through which she could maintain a connection to the material world as she ascended to godhood. She can't speak, but she's able to communicate concepts and feelings telepathically. She's not shy per se, but she takes a while to open up to others and doesn't readily offer information about herself. But once she's more comfortable, she's very open about what she wants and how she feels, in her own way. If she likes you, she'll let you write your name in her Cursed Book so she can write messages into your brain or maybe save your life. The wizard god IS potentially watching everything through her eyes, but it's impossible to know when, and étoile wouldn't have told you anyway.

Caroline Miller

23, 5'5", cis, we'll call her "bicurious", human

Caroline Miller is a normal girl with no problems. She grew up as the middle child (of 5) in a loving family who ran the mill in a midsized rural community. She's very friendly and quick to pick up on others' emotions. She decided to become an adventurer because of a local coming-of-age tradition wherein the mayor, an amateur diviner, foretold that she would make an excellent adventurer. She attended some local seminars on adventuring basics before moving to the city to intern with an established party and get some hands-on experience. With her natural charisma and familiarity with the family lute, she took on the mantle of Bard. At the end of her internship, she celebrated by getting drunk with her party and dying a streak of her hair pink. Currently partied up with Cassidy, but she has yet to meet her eccentric family.

Robin

???, 5'10", cis, lesbian, soul bound to a weapon

Robin is the closest thing I have to a universal game avatar. She began as an NPC in my DnD game, but I've created her in Monster Hunter and Bloodborne and will continue creating her in any action game i play that lets me. She was created initially as an excuse to have a scythe-wielding character in my game despite scythes being extremely unwieldy, so her general lore is that a powerful wizard bound her soul to a scythe, and then some other more kind wizard created a body she would be able to possess so she could pass as human. Unfortunately, since she needs to maintain contact with the body to possess it, she's had to learn to wield herself as an effective weapon. The exact weapon she's bound to changes from game to game, and her canon is more fluid than most of my other OCs to allow her to fit other settings. She's a generally carefree woman who loves adventure and fighting, and she doesn't tend to think too deeply about anything.

Unnamed Angel

???, 5'9", sexless girl, aroace, fallen angel

one day i'll name her... the angel once served a great creation god, but when that god was destroyed, all the angels in his service fell to the material realm. as a creature created for the purpose of worship, she shows extreme reverence towards all creation, especially living creatures, but shows similar reverence towards destruction, because the object of her worship was destroyed. desecration of life is an act of divine worship, and she finds particular beauty in the eyes of living things, which she preserves and collects. She often spends a great deal of time staring at her own eye in the mirror, though she's managed to hold back the urge to pluck it out so far.

Elemental Sisters

Peach: ???, 5'7", cis, aroace, earth-aspected human Eltah: ???, 5'10", cis, bisexual, water-aspected human Vasch: ???, 5'4", cis, aromantic lesbian, air-aspected human Lefah: ???, 5'6", cis, demi, fire-aspected human

Four kidnapped orphans whose hearts were fused with the cores of elementals, granting them powerful combat abilities. raised by their creator, a monstrously abusive paranoid minor noble dabbling in unethical science, to believe themselves to be artificial homunculi whose lives were directly tied to their creator's, they first discovered this to be false when he was killed by Eltah and they were forced to flee. now, with nothing but each other and their ludicrous combat power, the girls struggle to understand that they might not be merely weapons after all. NOTE that they are not biologically sisters or related in any way! so it's okay when they kiss!

[deadsilkmoth]

Hollow Knight Outlast AU part 2

ANTAGONISTS

Walker – A fallen mantis warrior, the only thing from his past life he can remember is violence.

He's been to many wars, which scarred him deeply both physically and mentally. Even without one claw he was hired as a guard by Murkoff. His appearance was enough to scare away the intruders,but his claw was for those, who went further. Even after succumbing to infection, he continued to guard this place. But making sure non will leave, especially Walrider. Infection made him even stronger and even more dangerous, not limited by sanity anymore. He even got himself a new claw from remains of his fallen enemy.

Possible bossfight – Could be simmilar to Traitor Lord fight(ripping off 2 masks of health like it's nothing), but with better moveset and bigger variety of attacks. And him getting ripped appart by Walrider in cutscene. Chris is also half-blind(because of attempt in trying to rip his eyes out and protect himself from infection), so his attackes get chaotic, when Miles is on the far range. His dream nail dialogues would be same as "We need to contain it" from the game.

Also silly art of him and Salubra having a tea party. And he's calling Miles a "Little Aphid"

Trager – a false doctor. He claims to be a saver, but the sweet release of death is the last thing for his victims can hope for.

(I chose a water strider for him because of poison and the disturbing way water striders breed...Fitting him very much)

His origin comes from peaceful Greenpath, where nothing ever happend, exept for....him. Trager used to sell his poison, which eventually got him to working for Murkoff. He once used to wield elegant scissors instead of a nail. Cunningness was always a main power of his. Even after succumbing to infection, he kept it. The state of his mind is unknown because ot his glasses. Trager acts surprisingly sane, able to voice coherent thoughts. Luring gullible bugs into his trap by promising them healing in his clinic. Instead just kindly torturing them. He even got his elegant scissors back – crafting them from two mantis claws.

Possible bossfight – I think he'd act as an npc before, luring Miles into sitting on the bench to rest and then hits him with paralytic poison. (Simillar to bench deepnest cutscene from HK)Even his dream nail dialogue gives no hints to his motives. His bossfight would be pretty intense, simillar to Nosk's.

Not fully antagonist, but

Snail Shaman Martin & Twins – A broken shell of Snail Shaman's might. Murkoff used to withdraw souls from him for their experiments. Despite that, he willingly chose to be a priest of Walrider, allowing inhebitants of the Asylum to join him. He gave Miles, his witness, the Soul Lantern to make sure he'll survive through all the horrors.

He'd be a friendly npc giving the whole soul refill. After completeing his quest and watching him sacrfice himself, Martin appears in the form of dream, refilling Miles's soul on every bench.

Twins, however ‐ May be his protectors and devoted followers, but would gladly devour the intruder. Nothing is known about them, exept the sewings on their shells and absence of limbs on other sides. Once they were a whole being, wich leads to them communicating nonverbally – through dreams. Even most common infected bug line: "EAT. WHEN" is answered with "SOON, BROTHER"

Possible bossfight ‐ Having to fight 2 enemies at once is tough, but when one falls another doesn't continue the fight, dragging his brother away. Their HP bars aren't shared. (In nonexsistent Godseeker dlc second brother continues to fight.)

Manera – A common bug with an uncommon appetite for his own kind. There was nothing special about him, exept cannibalistic urge, which developed with infection and worsened when his body got infected with mushroom spores. Mushrooms are parasitic, so he always feels hunger for other bugs, but it can never be fulfilled, because only mushrooms are eating. Not the host. He also made himself a weapon from sharp baldur exoskeleton, having no narural ways of preying.

Possible bossfight – Would be insufferable. Imagine having to dodge spore shrooms that rip off 2 masks of health and fighting a boss with Collector's mobility and range. He also explodes at the end of the fight, letting out spores everywhere.

Gluskin – A termite in the need of his queen. Even though there are no queens. To him it's fixable.

Can't say much about him, exept he used to kill his female mates, has a bowtie made from belfly and made himself a nail from glass shard. Also wedding music would be a soundtrack to his bossfight.(Legeater lost brother bruh)

[mercillery]

can you please do a scenario or headcanons where Lucius’s s/o cheats on him. Thanks a lot for your writing, reading them makes me happy 💕

The gasp I let out when I read this… this is like a lamb willingly going to the slaughter 😦 Also thank you so much anon, kisses and love for you 🙂‍↕️❤️❤️❤️ I’m going to start putting “gender not specified” rather than “gender neutral reader” because it’s really bothering me for some reason. But anyways, this was really entertaining to write.

WARNINGS: TOXIC + GENDER NOT SPECIFIED + TOXIC AGAIN

Congratulations! You've managed to complicate your life in ways you never imagined possible. Lucius will make sure you regret every moment, leaving you longing to turn back time and undo the foolish mistake of cheating on him. Did you think he was going to forgive and forget? Maybe in the end he will, but for now, absolutely not. You need to be disciplined. Cheating on Lucius was never going to go unnoticed or unpunished.

Upon uncovering your infidelity, Lucius' initial reaction would likely be one of composure. Rather than impulsively reacting, he'd take the time to craft a plan designed to deliver the most significant blow possible—mentally wise, that is. To him, the anguish wrought by psychological torment cuts deeper than any physical pain ever could.

Maybe you’ve cheated on him because you felt neglected. After all, Lucius is very dogmatic when it comes to his belief in remaking humanity and ruling as the Final Wizard King. Perhaps his all-consuming obsession with his vision for the future left little room for you, causing you to seek emotional fulfillment elsewhere.

Regardless of your motives for cheating on him, the repercussions will be severe. He'll ensure you experience the full weight of your actions, leaving you to contemplate your choices and your very existence. It may sound extreme, but trust me when I say that he will absolutely dismantle your psyche, forcing you to confront the consequences of your betrayal on a deep level. In essence, if you haven't grasped it yet, he's capable of shattering your sense of self—and he will.

Among the numerous punishments Lucius might deploy, isolation stands as a formidable weapon, stripping you of any semblance of affection or support. He's also adept at weaving intricate mind games, tormenting you with psychological manipulation designed to erode your sense of self. Moreover, he won’t shy away from employing tactics that sabotage your career, relationships, and reputation, leaving you grappling with despair and utterly at his mercy.

Isolation reigns supreme as Lucius' preferred method of punishment, consistently occupying the top spot in his arsenal of tactics. He firmly believes in its efficacy, viewing it as the most effective means of gradually dismantling any remaining shreds of hope within you. He'll justify this extreme measure as an act of love, insisting that it's necessary to reshape you and your behavior, all in the name of ensuring that the thought of cheating never crosses your mind again—even if the process ultimately leaves you scarred and traumatized.

Under Lucius' rule, there's no room for complaints or protests; in his eyes, you've brought this upon yourself. Even the smallest of complaints will only reinforce his conviction that you're resistant to changing your unfaithful ways, prompting him to escalate your punishment even further. It's in your own best interest to suffer in silence, as any attempt to voice grievances will only serve to worsen your punishment.

Eventually, the relentless mental torment inflicted by Lucius will transform you into a completely different individual. His ultimate objective is to mold you into a faithful and devoted partner, eradicating any traces of your previous unfaithful nature. While the journey may leave you deeply scarred and traumatized, Lucius will derive satisfaction from witnessing his relentless barrage of torment yield the desired outcome: your unwavering loyalty directed solely towards him.

And regarding the person you cheated on Lucius with, well, Lucius left it to his clones to address that matter. While Lucius might admit to a hint of curiosity about your choice, he ultimately holds no regard for them. Why would he care? The only thing he cares about is putting you back in your place. And if by the end of his cruel punishments you’re not crying like crazy in his arms, then he must be doing something wrong—which only drives his determination to make you submit even more.

When it comes to Lucius, loyalty is not a choice—it’s an obligation. But you know this already, don’t you?

[kaeyazuha]

Hii ! Im so glad your rq! Are open agaim :)

I was wondering if you could do diluc and scara and maybe heizou since he's friend died its up to you ofc! having a nightmare about their past and the reader comforts them! (Just wanna comofrt these boys smm) thank you!!

; I'm sorry this took so long, but I hope it's worth it!

; 4/2/23

; CW: Lots of physical touch, backstory mentions for all characters, heizou's is kinda bittersweet

; Reverse Comfort, Fluff

𝗗𝗶𝗹𝘂𝗰 𝗥𝗮𝗴𝗻𝘃𝗶𝗻𝗱𝗿

✧ It’s rare that Diluc sleeps peacefully. Seeing as he normally rests at ungodly times of the morning and seldom falls into a deep sleep, he tries to get enough sleep to keep him going without the nightmares that replay in his head throughout the day. However, there’s only so much he can do before he trips and his past catches up to him again. This specific nightmare is one he’s familiar with, to the point that he has every little detail memorized and can always predict what comes after. Yet, it frightens him all the same. He sees his father's brilliant scarlet eyes that dull so rapidly, watching the bright red leak from his eyes and body. He sees his brother’s crystalline blue eyes, so full of fear and sorrow. He sees rain that falls from the sky and drips from his cheeks to the muddied grass. He sees his own reflection in a nearby puddle: He’s younger now, hair tied much higher with eyes brighter and eager to please, but they’re filled with tears and anger.

✧ He’s a fairly deep sleeper, unluckily for you. You try to wake him up lightly so as to not startle him but as you watch his face scrunch in pain and knuckles lighten from his grip on the sheets, you start shaking him like one of his signature cocktails. He wakes with a start, eyes wide and fearful as he stares through you rather than at you. It takes a while to bring him back to earth. He’s not angry, nor does he cry. He just….stares. Eyes hazy and unfocused as his body lies still where he sits. It’s as if he’s a statue, unmoving and silent. The first time he did this, it scared the hell out of you. Now though, you sit beside him and let him come to himself in his own time. Slowly, you reach for his hand to hold it. If this goes on too long, you start humming your favorite songs and tracing shapes along his scarred hands and arms.

✧ Diluc’s preferred source of comfort is physical touch, surprisingly. Words are nice, but he’s been told far too many that meant nothing. So he instead loves when you talk through your hands. When you rub circles into his back, fingers lingering over the scars you’ve kissed. When your trace hearts over his arms and shoulders, massaging them lightly while you mentally chide him for working so hard. He finds solace in how earnestly you touch him, as if tracing the most delicate of porcelain. He’s in love with how focused you are on tracing his skin like connect the dots, from freckles to sunspots to scars to random dips of skin to anywhere your eyes linger. He especially loves when you wipe the stray tears from his face, gentle eyes staring into his tired ones. He can’t help but lean into your palm, smiling so softly you nearly missed it. And slowly, comfortably, does he fall back asleep. 

- ✧ -

Of all the things to wake up to, the burning stare of two wide, reddened eyes staring back at you was not what you expected. You gasped shortly, before leaning back to get a full look of whatever it was you just witnessed. Your lover, your dear Diluc, was a mess. And it was frightening just how silent he was. He half hovered, half rested over his pillow- every inch of his body tense and rigid as a statue. His eyes, transfixed in fear, stared at nothing in particular. But most heartbreaking was the streaks of tears that dripped down from those sad eyes to the pillow below him. You sighed, sitting up fully and gently grabbing his hands in an attempt to guide him into a more comfortable position.

“Same nightmare as always, I’m assuming.” Your voice was quiet, solemn almost. Your hands were delicate when they traced over his, and you wiped at his cheeks with your thumbs. He made no effort to speak, nor did his eyes speak for him. God it was frightening to see him this lifeless, as if he’d been possessed. “I hope I didn’t keep you waiting too long, I was asleep,” You paused your sentiment to brush some stray, wild hair away from his face. “I was dreaming of us actually, at the windblume festival. It’s still really early, but I’m excited to go today.” As you mused more and more about your dream, about how excited you were to dance with him amidst the city and pick flowers for him, he seemed to relax a bit more. 

“Mm…” He started to nod along with your words, blinking for the first time in several minutes. His lips curled into a small scowl, and life slowly returned to his face. He still remained silent and still, but now at least he was with you. “Yes, yes, I know you’ll have to leave early to take care of the tavern. I’m sure it gets busy around this time of year.” A small huff escaped his lips, the closest you’d get to a laugh, and you smiled widely. “I hope you’re feeling a bit better now, my love.” You felt his pinky twitch against your hand, interlocking with yours and you rested his head against your chest with your head resting atop his. 

“I’m happy to hear it.” Blowing a tuft of scarlet hair away from your face, still loosely wrapped in its protective night style, you pressed a kiss to the crown of his head and relished in the way he sleepily relaxed against you. “I’ll see you in the morning, Diluc. Sweet dreams.”

It wasn’t long before you drifted back to sleep yourself despite the uncomfortable position, but as your eyelids fluttered shut, you caught sight of the way his pinky still locked with yours and smiled ever so softly.

𝗪𝗮𝗻𝗱𝗲𝗿𝗲𝗿 '𝗞𝘂𝗻𝗶𝗸𝘂𝘇𝘂𝘀𝗵𝗶'

✧ Wanderer is a vessel. He compares himself to a puppet but really, he’s most similar to a bottle. One sealed shut that contains a murky liquid full of dark mud and slime. It looks ready to burst, the glass expanded and the cap barely holding on. Wanderer is a bottle, one that contains memories he wishes to forget and trauma he’ll never forget. He was never taught how to express his pains despite having so many of them, and instead bottles things up until they explode in the form of meltdowns, rage, violence, and even crying to the point of not being able to taste or smell for hours. This is rare though, usually he finds these things to be pathetic and opts to keep things locked within the heart he wishes he had.

✧ Nightmares aren’t new to him. He’s slept through many nights that leave him with tear stains on his cheeks and his eyes reddened from the buried pain that shows through when he’s most vulnerable. This is why he prefers to sleep alone. After convincing himself being caught crying in his sleep was the reason for his abandonment, he’s never let anyone see him show weakness like that again. He’ll sleep on the couch or anywhere you can’t see him- but you catch him one night. His usually blank face is scrunched up and pained, the moonlight reflecting off glittery tears that streak down his skin. You watch his hands shake as he mumbles soft pleas and curses through bitten lips.

✧ You comfort him while he sleeps, knowing full well he doesn’t even want you seeing him like this yet. Not that it offends you, something he’s extremely grateful for. You mumble sweet words in his ear, wiping his tears gently so as to not wake him. You take his trembling hands in yours, sweeping your fingers along his knuckles. You stay like this for gods knows how long, your knees have begun to ache and sleep pulls at your eyelids. But, as his fingers twitch and then curl around your own, you realize it was worth it. He still weeps, but he smiles as he does. And slowly do you drift off with your head rested against the couch, and his hand in yours.

- ✧ -

Living in the peaceful city of Sumeru usually means nights of tranquility and quiet dreams, with only the sound of the wind to disturb you occasionally. However, you found yourself harshly awoken by a crash downstairs. At first, you shrugged it off. ‘Maybe it was the cat.’ Was your first thought, your eyelids slowly fluttered shut only to be practically ripped open at the realization-- 

“We don’t own a cat.”

Rushing down the steps, you found yourself walking ever quieter so as to not disturb your lover who always slept on the couch. It was strange, you’d admit, but you respected it. The way he looked at you when he feebly requested to sleep on the couch reminded you of a kicked puppy, ashamed and nervous before you. And so, you let it slide. Sleeping in a cold bed as you cuddled a pillow rather than your boyfriend, but it was worth it to see him in the mornings. However, as you stare at him laying face down on the floor beside the couch he called his bed, you begin to understand his hesitation.

He’s still asleep, miraculously. But his skin, ever pale and cold, collects tears on his cheeks like morning dew on petals and leaves. You kneel down slowly, watching as his hands grip the blanket that now half lay over his curled up body. Small mumbles escape his lips, though incomprehensible you made out small pleas and curses-- curses mostly. His face is scrunched up in a mixture of pain and confusion, almost betrayal- and the way his hands guard his body even in slumber breaks your heart. You gently brush a hand over his hair that clings to the sweat on his forehead. “I’m sorry I never noticed.” He stiffens, eyes scrunching at the touch and he sniffles. Rather than lifting him back onto the couch, you opt to simply take his pillow and tuck it back beneath his head.

There’s plenty to talk about, but it can wait till the morning. You carefully move his arm, which quivers under your hold, and move it out to the side. “It’s okay, you’re safe now.” Despite not knowing if he can hear it, you whisper kind words into his ear while resting your head atop his arm. Your eyes feel heavy, but his burden feels lighter and that’s all that matters to you. Though, as you drift off, you notice his hand move to your cheek, where he brushes his knuckles over your skin so lightly you barely notice.

And then, as you turn over to look at him, you notice the faintest smile on those trembling lips.

𝗦𝗵𝗶𝗸𝗮𝗻𝗼𝗶𝗻 𝗛𝗲𝗶𝘇𝗼𝘂

✧ Heizou isn’t someone people suspect to be so…sad. They see his suave jokes, the glimmer in his eye when his suspicions prove correct, or the way his shoulders slump and lip juts out when the trail goes cold. They see a troublemaker, someone rowdy and annoying. Even his own brother sees a nuisance. Truthfully, you did as well at one point. When he picked up a piece of trash you accidentally dropped and then chided you on the “dangers of littering.” Though while being witty and fun is something he enjoys, a good chunk of it is a front. A detective is excellent at uncovering lies, but he’s also good at creating them.

✧ You know about his past, about his friend, but it never seemed to bother him as much as it really did. Heizou was a man angry at the world. He was the forefront of protests and the face of right vs wrong, he wasn’t afraid to scream and shout and the world that cursed the people that loved it. However, someone as bold and brash as this becomes overwhelmed. Sometimes the crushing realization that he can’t fix everything becomes too much. When he rests, he sees only the dagger through his friend's heart. He sees the fates of others just like his friend, people who were wronged as a result of pride and greed. One example of this was after a nightmare became too much, and he practically shot out of bed with eyes wide and hands clammy.

✧ You comfort him through words at first, something he’s very good at. But you soon realize because he’s overwhelmed and exhausted, he’s overanalyzing everything you say. Looking for hidden meanings and things to distrust. With a small, saddened sigh, you simply rest his head on your shoulder and then does he break. He gripes about how tired he is, how hard he works sometimes just to realize the world is still the same as before. And you listen earnestly, resting your cheek atop his head while rubbing circles into his back. At some point, you feel him weakly smile against your shoulder. He’s still sleepy, you note, and a breathy whisper catches your ear as he drifts off:

- ✧  - 

“It really is you and me against the world.” He mutters, and you look up from where you were 

”But we'll never be enough.”

Those barely audible words roll around your head like marbles, your eyes drifting off into the dark ceiling above you as your hand runs through magenta locks of hair. Just moments ago, that same hair was brushing against your nose as he cried against your shoulder. As your shoulder moves against your shirt, you can feel his tears still sticking to your skin, and you frown at the memory of those lovely eyes so sad as they looked up at you. Asking you why, why the world hated people so. And gods, you wish you had an answer. “No matter what I do, it’s never enough.” You wanted to deny it, but truly, nothing anyone did would matter in the end. However, you reassured him: 

“It’s enough for me. And,” You brush a few strands of messy hair away from his face, “All the other people who you helped thought the same too. They may not remember you in the future, but in that moment? You made things so much better. Or even just a bit better.” He scoffed lightly, but you saw a hint of a smile tug at his lips that wobbled with every breath. Heizou sighed and flopped limply against your chest, to which you let out a breathless laugh. His hand found yours, and his thumb caressed your skin sweetly. 

“You could’ve stopped with the first sentence, y’know.” He grinned mischievously, though it looked rather foolish seeing as he was about to burst into tears again. “Knowing I’m enough for you means a lot.” A sharp breath, a shaky exhale, and one heavy sniff later, he looked back up at you. “But why can’t we be enough for everyone else? No matter what I do, no matter what you do, there will always be more problems than solutions.” With every word that escaped the confines of his rapidly closing throat, he spoke faster. And faster. And faster, and faster, and fastandfasteranfast--

“HEIZOU!” He jolted, wide awake at your completely bewildered expression. “I have no clue what you’re saying, love, slow down.” Your hand found his cheek, and you guided him through a few slower breaths. He sighed, suddenly quiet in your arms. Tears dripped from tired eyes to welcoming arms and he cried freely where he felt safe to do so.

“I’m just tired.” And it showed. In the eyebags that grew dark enough to mask his moles, in the way he spaced out more than he spoke, in the way he poured salt in his coffee instead of sugar and then forgot to clean up when he spit it everywhere. You let out a quiet ‘I know, love.’, and your free hand moved to his hair where it stayed from then, to now. To now, where he rested peacefully on your chest. To now, where his hand still refused to let go of yours.

To now, where you were left wondering if he could fix the world in his dreams, because here?

we’ll never be enough.

[kairithemang0]

Tell me about trans Curt please?? How did his mother react? Does she know even? Same with Cynthia. And how was his career at the beginning? Was he at least masc presenting when he met Owen? (If not... how did Owen find out?)

OHHHH THANK YOU SO MUCH

Ok so I think his mom was. Mostly supportive? She was sorta confused on it and she didn’t really talk about it, kinda avoided the topic of it while she tried to figure out how to go about the information of Curt being trans

She’s still not fully sure of how to talk to him about it, but she calls him Curt and their relationship is still strong. Mama Mega will love Curt no matter what, she loves him completely unconditionally even if she may not understand him. If he came out to her in canon saf as gay, she'd still certainly love him even if she didn't understand why he was gay, she just wants what's best for him. That's her only goal, it's always been to just make him happy, to keep food on the table for the both of them. She loves her son and just wants him to be happy, it's why she let him be a spy in the first place, she hoped this would bring him joy.

Cynthia just didn't care. She said "ok cool" and then never brought it up again. I think by the time he knew her, he was already out to his mom. He never came out to anyone else, he was already masc presenting when he joined the agency but he wanted her to know just in case. She really didn't care though, never told anyone and they moved on with their lives.

His career was always a little awkward. There was this constant weight over his head of people finding out he was trans, he was always super quiet about the fact he wasn't born male, it's partially why he wants to be this big famous suave spy. He's so worried that if he's not he'll get outed in some way, he won't feel as masculine

Curt's relationship with his gender definitely isn't in any way healthy. I think when he told Owen (will certainly be talking about this later put a pin in this) he made sure to tell Owen that he was a man and that he always was because he's so physically uncomfortable in his own skin most of the time. Post top surgery he hates his chest scars, they're a permanent reminder that to him he was born wrong. He resents them, he resents his childhood and living so long as someone he's not. He feels like he wasted his time trying to fit into this feminine box he couldn't fit into but whenever he felt slightly feminine even post transition, he felt like a fraud.

His view of gender is very binary. He lives by a "girl = pink" "boy = blue" mentality that makes him hate himself because he definitely has a slightly feminine side that he's repressed, and it negatively affects his mental health. He's also. Probably sexist. Just gonna say that in this he's definitely a little sexist

Alright, finally time to get back to Owen. I think Curt told Owen he was trans on their first night together, Owen attempted to bring his shirt over his head and Curt pushed his hands back down because he didn't want Owen to see his chest scars (im sorry im bringing up the scars again i can't look at him and think he didn't despise them). Owen assumes they're like every other scar, ones they get on missions. Curt tells Owen he's trans, and Owen's just a little taken aback by this, but nods his head and respects Curt's boundaries. Their night continues as normal, quietly Curt's happy Owen didn't bring it up, Curt hates talking about it. It's one of those conversation topics that makes him feel so physically ill until he breaks open a bottle of whiskey and passes out on the floor of his apartment

Owen asks him about it the next morning, asks if Curt wants to talk about it. Curt tells him he doesn't want to. Owen says that's fine. Over time Curt tells him more about his transition as he becomes more comfortable with Owen. Owen doesn't cut him off or shame him, he just listens and lets Curt talk. It feels so nice to not get asked constant questions, they simply come up and they move on. They only talk about it when Curt wants to talk about it, and Owen listens, gives his input when it feels right to, and then he doesn't bring it up again. To Owen, Curt will always just be Curt. No matter what his old name was or what he was born as, it's always just Curt

Sorry this is long I have so many thoughts on him especially his relationship with Owen though because through all their many. many problems, Curt being trans is never one of them, Owen never sees him as any less of a man and to Curt that brings him more joy than anything because it's never a matter of "do you hate me because i'm trans?"

[dixonsdarkelf]

Finding Myself, Finding You: Chapter Twelve

Masterlist

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Story is 18+ for mature content/themes, minors do not interact please

TW/CWs for this story--implied/referenced past rape, canonical violence, non-canonical violence, blood, gore, referenced past suicide, swearing, surgery, excessive drinking, nightmares, panic attacks, mention of scars, vomiting, amputation, medical procedures, non-con medical procedures, referenced past medical torture, referenced past drugging, attempted sexual assault, panic attacks, mental health struggles, referenced sibling death, referenced parent death

Each chapter will have its own TW/CWs listed

This story, Lydia Vector, her family & bestie (c) me, TheVeganDarkElf

TWD & its characters (c) AMC & Robert Kirkman, the writer of the comic series

Sleeping Beauty (c) Disney, Wednesday Addams (c) Charles Addams

TW/CWs for this chapter--swearing, mentions of sibling death, mentions of blood (kinda?), attempted amputation, and violence (past experience of something trying to cut their own arm off after walker bite)

Word count: 2.7k

There was plenty for us to go through in the store, and I wasn’t sure if we’d be able to get it all or if we’d have to come back another time. Maybe it only seemed like a lot because I was expecting to find far less, but I was grateful nonetheless. Plus, we still had the medical center to go to, and I would of course be taking everything in sight from there.

We did what we did on the last one, where I started at one end and Daryl at the other. The boxes from before were still in the car, so we grabbed those to use. I was in an aisle that had canned vegetables and beans, and I even found a couple boxes of mac ’n cheese. Call me a child, but it was still one of my favorites. That, cheap ramen packets, and my dump ’n pray recipes got me through med school.

I took my now full box and carried it over near where Daryl was, setting it down and grabbing another one to take back to the other side with me. I knelt down at at the end of one of the aisles where I found things like oil and vinegar. Daryl had climbed up some shelves to reach some stuff on the top of one of the aisles. I noticed an empty beer bottle on the floor near me. The label had been removed, and there had been masking tape placed on it with a heart drawn on the tape in Sharpie.

“It’s like goddamn spin the bottle,” I laughed, tapping the top of the bottle so it spun around. If there in fact was a group of people who sat here and played, I hoped it worked out in everyone’s favor. Daryl looked down when he heard the bottle clinking around on the floor.

“The hell’s that?” Daryl asked. I looked up at him and let out a single chuckle before going back to what I was doing.

“Daryl, you sweet summer child,” I sighed, “it’s a game you play with a group of people. You all sit in a circle around a bottle, one person starts, and they spin the bottle around. They have to kiss whoever the top end points to when it stops.”

I had to physically restrain myself from saying I would go and tapping the bottle to rotate it to point at him. I heard Carol’s voice in the back of my head. Be patient with him.

“Seems weird,” he said, dropping some items he pulled from the back of the top shelf into the box below him, “what if couples ‘re playin’?”

“Ideally, everyone playing is single. It’s mostly a thing high schoolers & college students play at parties,” I explained, snickering a little, “I had my first kiss during a game of spin the bottle in high school. It was fucking awful.” I managed to elicit a stifled laugh from Daryl. I kept grabbing random bottles off the shelf and putting them into my box. "Guy tried to play grab-ass, so I gave him a black eye in front of everyone. Called me a bitch like what I did was unprompted. People at my high school quickly learned I was not to be fucked with.”

“Jesus. How old were ya?” I stuck my head between two of the shelves to reach something at the back.

“Uh, like 14 or 15 I think. I’ve always been really friendly, very approachable, if you will, and people tend to think they can take advantage of that until I show them that if they fuck around, they’re sure to find out.”

“Hey,” Daryl called down to me, and I pulled my head out from the shelf and looked up at him, “any of the guys ‘round Alexandria give ya trouble, send ‘em my way. They can fuck around ’nd find out with me. Sound like you’ve dealt with ’nough already.” The warming sensation in my chest returned again, and my stomach flipped around in my abdomen. I gave him a giant smile.

“Thanks. That uh…that means a lot.” I knew I could handle my own if any of the men around Alexandria did so choose to fuck around with me, and I think he knew that too, but it was sweet that Daryl wanted to take some of that burden off of me if it happened.

There was a couple minutes of silence between us before either one said anything. I don’t know how it happened, but a certain level of boldness came over me. “Hey Daryl? Did you have a girlfriend before all this?” I asked, “or a boyfriend. I don’t mean to be presumptuous.”

“Was always just Merle ’nd I,” he said. There was more silence for a minute. I think he was deciding whether or not to ask the question he eventually did. “You?”

“Me neither. Men are trash.” I looked up at Daryl and smiled. “Present company excluded, of course. Last guy I dated was probably early college, and he was terrible. He was possessive as hell, even got insecure over me hanging out with my brothers. Weird ass.”

“Sounds like you’ve dealt with some real human garbage,” he said, climbing down the shelves from his perch, “glad to know I’m excluded.” I got up from my spot on the floor to go down the next aisle, feeling the blood rushing to my cheeks once again. This time, I just allowed it to happen.

We continued our way around the store, grabbing what we could and filling the boxes and my backpack as much as we could. If this medical center had plenty to take, hopefully they’d have something to store it in. It did in fact seem like a lot because I was expecting there to be less. Apparently, this area had been evacuated pretty early on, so that explained why we got so lucky both times we’ve gone out.

I was going to stick with it being that I was a good luck charm though.

“The hell’s almond milk?” Daryl said, flipping the blue carton around in his hands, scanning over it.

“Oh shit, nice!” I exclaimed, “throw it here.” I reached my arms out, and he turned around and gently tossed the carton in my direction. I caught it and inspected it myself. “It’s a milk substitute made from almonds, like for people with dairy allergies. It’s not too bad in a pinch.” I placed the carton into my box. “Jay was violently allergic to dairy. Poor guy could literally look at a stick of butter and I swear it’d make him sick.”

“Ya talk ‘bout your brothers a lot,” I heard Daryl say from a couple aisles over.

“Oh yeah, guess I do. Sorry,” I replied, rather sheepishly. The fear of coming across as annoying came creeping back in at full force.

“Ain’t say it’s bad. Sounds like they were good to ya,” he said.

“They were. They were some of my best friends. I got really lucky,” I responded. I smiled at the fond memories that flashed quickly through my mind—them teaching me to fight, staying up late in the summertime when we were kids and sneaking out into the backyard after our parents went to sleep to catch fireflies, long conversations around a bonfire on family vacations, making snow angels in the winter…my daydreams were interrupted by Daryl’s next question.

“Hey Vec? When ya got here, ya said somethin’ ‘bout when this started, gettin’ home ‘nd findin’ one of ‘em. Had to…finish ‘em off.” I heard him quickly maneuvering through different aisles, grabbing things as he made his way in my direction. The man worked fast, I’d give him that.

I set my box down on a shelf in front of me, grabbing a couple containers of random spices and tossing them in. “I thought it was established that I was done answering questions,” I joked. I had no issues talking about Eli, but I didn’t want to get too emotional out on a run where it was important to remain vigilant. “But yeah, I did. It was Eli. He was the youngest of them. Preston was the oldest, and Jay and Eli were twins, then there was me. I was on my way home already when everything started, and when I got there, I, uh…”

I took my glasses off and set them gently next to my box, holding my sleeves to my eyes to quickly soak up the impending tears. “I found him in the living room. He’d gotten bit. More than once.” I kept my sleeves pressed to my eyes and tried my best to control my voice so it didn’t sound like I was about to start crying. “He tried to cut his arm off. Couldn't get the axe through. Poor guy still had it in his shoulder when I found him. After that, I just sat in the house and cried for hours. I miss him terribly.”

I dried my eyes and blinked back the tears that tried to creep through. I took a couple of deep breaths and fanned my eyes before putting my glasses back on. Although I couldn’t see them myself, I’m sure my eyes were red. I placed a couple more things in and turned back to see Daryl standing at the end cap, startling me once again and causing me to almost drop the now-full box in my arms.

“God, what did I say about sneaking up on me?” I scolded. I immediately felt bad for the tone I used, which was more irritated than it would normally be given my heightened emotions. “Fuck, sorry. I just don’t wanna get too emotional outside the walls. Gotta stay on high alert, y’know?”

“Yeah,” he said, walking past me towards the front of the store. We had about cleared the place out by that point. “Sorry ‘bout askin’.”

“Don’t apologize. It’s ok, really. We’ve all lost people we love to this fucking virus. Something we all got in common. Might as well talk about them, keep their memories alive and whatnot,” I said, following behind him.

We took a couple trips putting boxes into the trunk before taking one more walk-through to make sure we didn’t miss anything. After that, we climbed back into the car to go find this medical center that would, ideally, have a prosthetic for Aaron. And hopefully more. Could never have too much medical supplies on hand, as far I was concerned.

“The good luck charm strikes again,” I called out as I skipped out the front door of the store back to the car. I could feel Daryl rolling his eyes at me as I climbed into the car and made myself comfortable.

“So Daryl,” I said, strapping myself back into my seat, “back to talking about you again. What are your interests? Like what hobbies do you have? Well, if we can even have hobbies anymore. I mean, I write, I guess that’s a hobby.” He turned back out onto the road, going in the opposite direction that we came from. I pulled my water bottle out of my very crammed backpack to finally chug some. Still had a bad habit of letting myself get dehydrated, even with regular access to water.

“Guess I got my bike.” I figured he had to be referring to the motorcycle I’d seen sitting near the front gates. I’d never seen anyone use it, so I wasn’t sure who it belonged to, but now that I knew it was Daryl’s, I couldn’t say I was surprised.

Daryl—the tall, tan, whiskey-sippin’, motorcycle-ridin’, crossbow-wielding bonafide badass who smelled like leather and tobacco. And then there was me—the “tiny,” soft, flower-pickin’, poetry-writin’, Disney princess-ass surgeon who used a sex toy as a weapon. We made quite a team.

“Oh shit, that bike’s yours? I was wondering who it belonged to,” I said, “that’s so dope. But please tell me you have a helmet you wear with it.” When he didn’t answer, I clicked my tongue and gave him a disapproving stare. “You don’t wanna know how many people I saw torn to pieces after motorcycle accidents and how many death certificates I signed because someone wasn’t wearing a helmet. If you ever find one, promise me you’ll wear it.”

“No promises, but ok,” he said, taking a turn onto the next road. I huffed a sigh and put my feet back up on the dash, crossing my legs.

"Could you show me some stuff about your bike sometime?" I asked, “I don’t know, maybe have me hang around next time you give a tune-up or something.” He was quiet, and I twirled a piece of hair in my finger, afraid that maybe I’d been too forward somehow. I wiggled my toes again to keep my mind preoccupied in the silent car.

“What for?” He seemed surprised by my interest.

"I like learning about the things my friends are interested in. I may not understand it, but if it's important to them, then it's important to me,” I explained, reminiscing on the times my best friend would lecture on about engineering and my dad go on and on about space, “I like watching people’s faces light up when they talk about something they love, how excited they get when they get to tell me about this thing that means so much to them. It makes me happy to see them happy.”

“You’re just a goddamn ray of sunshine, aren’tcha?” I could tell by his tone that it wasn’t meant in a bad way. Not in a “you’re too much of a ray of sunshine, calm down” kind of way, but in an acknowledging kind of way. Maybe an admiring kind of way.

I laughed a little. “I try to be. It’s hard enough out there as it is.”

He was quiet once again, the same stoic look on his face that made it impossible for me to tell what was going on in that pretty little head. The only sounds were the tires on the dirt road and the hum of the engine.

“Yeah, I’ll show ya some stuff,” he finally said.

“Nice,” I said, doing a tiny fist pump in the air, “alright, next question. Umm…what would you be doing if the world never fell?” He gave me a quick glance before putting his eyes back on the road.

“Whadaya think I’d be doin’?” he asked. My eyes scanned over him before resting on his muscular arms. It didn’t help that he was wearing one of his shirts with the sleeves hacked off. Or maybe it did. Was I using this as a moment to check him out? Absolutely.

“You look like the handyman type. Or an auto mechanic maybe. Some kind of manual labor for sure, you’re definitely built for it,” I said, biting my tongue upon realizing that it could potentially be interpreted as flirting. Yeah, I had done a little bit, but I was afraid of going too overboard. I didn’t want to make him uncomfortable or freak him out.

“Sounds ‘bout right.”

I rested the side of my head on the window, staring out at a couple of deer that were prancing off in the distance. “Alright tough guy, what about me? If you didn’t know I was a doctor, what do you think I’d be doing in a normal world?”

He hardly skipped a beat. “Probably a comedian since ya talk so damn much,” he said. My jaw dropped, both at how quickly he came up with such a comeback as well as the nature of the comeback itself. However, I could tell by his tone that he was messing with me.

“Ouch,” I said sarcastically, leaning back in my seat and placing my hand over my chest, giving him a cheeky smile, “right in the heart.” I saw that tiny smile tug at the corner of his mouth again. 

“Nah, I’m just teasin’. A shrink suits ya,” he said. I took it as his way of saying I was a good listener and easy to talk to, which brought a little smile to my face and put that warm sensation back in my chest.

“So still a doctor, just a different kind?”

“Guess so.”

[steel-nemesis]

So, I noticed a few of you silly billies were doing a little Q&A thing with your OCs, so I decided to take a crack at it for Rocket! ( Nametag by @bunnymajo , artwork by my good friend WashedZombie on TikTok! ) @sonic-oc-showdown

✨- How did you come up with the OC’s name?

It's a funny story, really. For a hot second while I was discussing about their concept with a friend, I had been reminded about a character from a show called Little Einsteins. In the show, there's a sentient rocket ship by the name of, well, Rocket. So that's how they got their name. :]

🌼 - How old are they? (Or approximate age range)

Although they don't have a physical age, it's assumed that they'd be mentally around the same age as Shadow. 15.

🌺- Do they have any love interest(s)?

Nope! They're aroace. :]

🍕 - What is their favorite food?

Pickled onions! They love the flavor.

💼 - What do they do for a living?

Be creature. Commit atrocities. They have no corporate job. Only the job of being a friend.

🎹 - Do they have any hobbies?

Yes! If they're not out hunting small animals ( or sometimes even Mobians. ) for food, they'll often times hang out around their good friend Obscurity ( created by my good friend @sonicattos ! ) and just do what creatures do!

🎯 -What do they do best?

Making blanket nests! They're an expert in the craft, and know just how to make the coziest blanket nest they can for someone!

🥊 -What do they love to do? What do they hate to do?

They love getting to know people! Although shy, they're quick to warm up once they know you're a safe person! As for what they hate to do... They honestly just hate it when people don't or refuse to believe that Obscurity is the true Shadow. Rocket knows that it isn't the true Shadow, but they believe that Obscurity is.

❤️ - What is one of your OC’s best memories?

Meeting Obscurity. That was when Rocket discoverred for the first time that there were more creatures that looked like them! So they felt alot less lonely after finding another Shadow Android for the first time. :]

✂️ - What is one of your OC’s worst memories?

Oh, the scars... Although their scars are well hidden, they have a few of them. There was a wee bit of a situation that had caused Rocket to loose a good chunk of their foot. What had happened was that while they were out in a forest, a badnik invasion had hit the area thanks to Dr. Eggman. And Rocket, being genuinely worried for their safety, attempted to escape the invasion by climbing up a tree. Though just before they could get to the top, a Caterkiller badnik had followed them and bit them RIGHT onto the foot. And, in order to escape being destroyed completely, Rocket had to sacrifice a part of their left foot in order to escape the invasion. They don't like remembering that day. They still get startled by the thought of a caterkiller coming for them.

🧊 - Is their current design the first one?

Yep! My good friend, the one who created Obscurity, was also the one who gave Rocket their iconic design!

🍀 - What originally inspired the OC?

Mostly, it was me looking at my friend's Shadow Android OC and going " Woah :0, I want one. ".

🌂 - What genre do they belong in?

...Creature.

💚 - What is your OC’s gender identity and sexuality?

Agender and aroace! Their pronouns are they/them, it/its!

🙌 - How many siblings does your OC have?

If adopted siblings count... Then just one! That being Obscurity. :]

🍎 - What is the OC’s relationship w/their parents like?

Parents? Never heard of them.

🧠 - What do you like most about the OC?

Probably their space aesthetic! You can't go wrong with a skrungly bungly with a cute space aesthetic. :]

✏️ - How often do you draw/write about the OC?

Not as often as folks would think! Though, I hope to write for them more soon! I've just been so caught up with writing headcanons and lore for Metal Sonic that Rocket ends up not getting written for as much as they should!

💎 - Do you ever see yourself killing off the OC?

If I ever killed Rocket off, I give Moon full permission to come to my house and maul me. /J.

💀 - Does your OC have any phobias?

Yeah, they have a little phobia of caterkillers. If they see one, they get VERY hissy and try to hide or escape before the caterkiller can come after them.

🍩 -Who is your OC’s arch-nemesis or rival?

No one, just yet! Unless a swarm of caterkillers came their way. Then they'd be their arch-nemesis for sure.

🎓 - How long have you had the OC?

Just a couple of months! They were created on May 3rd, 2023!

🍥 - What age were you when you created the OC?

16. :]

[sequinsmile-x]

Home - Chapter One

Revenge - (re·​venge: Noun.)

The action of hurting or harming someone in return for an injury or wrong suffered at their hands.

She'd been comfortable and safe for so long that she'd allowed herself how to forget how it felt to be afraid.

A sequel to The Way Home

-x-

Well, it took longer to get this out than I hoped, but better late than never! I love The Way Home and I am loving writing this version of them.

A quick shout out to @aubreyprc who, no matter how much she screams at me over the next several weeks for this fic, was involved in planting this very firmly in my head when we were in Blackpool for the weekend last year.

I do have some ideas for a series of one shots between The Way Home and this fic. Just a series of moments in the 16 years between them meeting in college and the start of this sequel. Let me know if you'd be interested!

Chapters will be posted every Friday.

-x-

Words: 3.1k

A full list of warnings can be found on the Series Master List.

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

Fall 2007 - Arlington, VA 

Emily wakes up to the feeling of small hands pressing into her cheeks and the comforting scent of her daughter's shampoo surrounding her.

“Daddy says it’s time to wake up, Mama,” Eleanor says, her attempts at whispering somehow louder than her usual voice. She opens her eyes and looks at her little girl, who smiles widely at her, “Morning!”

“Good morning, Ellie,” she replies, her voice rough with sleep, and she looks briefly at her husband's side of the bed and is unsurprised to find it empty, the sheets cold to the touch indicating that he’d been up for a while. He’d always been a morning person, even back when they were in college, and it was something he had passed on to their five-year-old who was already dressed and ready for school, her hair in perfect braids that Aaron had clearly paid close attention to. “You look pretty.” 

The little girl beams, her smile getting impossibly wider, “Like Mommy.” 

Emily chuckles, knowing that was absolutely not the case right now. That she likely had remnants of yesterday's mascara smudged under her eyes, never quite coming all the way off no matter how many steps there were in her skincare routine, and her hair would be a mess. 

“Thank you, sweet girl,” she says, sitting up just enough to pull Eleanor into her arms, something that the little girl needs no encouragement for. It had become part of their morning routine all the way back when Eleanor was a tiny dot of a thing, content to be in her mother’s embrace for a while before the day began. Emily knows thats why Aaron would always send their daughter up to wake her up just a few minutes before her alarm went off, so they could start the day in a way they both loved. 

It was strange to think that Eleanor was now the age Jack had been when Emily first met him. She hoped that the years would go slower this time around, that it wouldn’t feel like she blinked and then had a teenager going off to college, but time had always been a thief and she knew it always would be. The vague fear that Eleanor would be her only chance at motherhood always lingered in the back of her mind. The losses she’d had before she had her little girl were enough to make her anxious just at the prospect of getting pregnant again, but they were trying. Both she and Aaron keen to have one more child. 

She pulls her daughter closer just at the thought of it, excitement and anxiety bubbling in her stomach in equal measure, and she smiles as Eleanor wraps both of her hands around one of hers before she starts to trace one of her fingers up and down the scar on Emily’s forearm. The now thin silver line stretched from her wrist to halfway to her elbow. It was the only physical scar she had from that time, the only reminder etched onto her skin. She always found herself oddly grateful for it, a physical manifestation of the worst time of her life, because it was proof it happened.

Something she needed when the mental scars, which she knew would never fully heal, reared their ugly heads. She hated that every time her throat was sore she could feel Ian’s hand wrapped around it. That whenever the first sign of a cold would enter their home, Eleanor coughing as she came home from school, she knew it was only a matter of time until she’d feel the familiar scratchiness. The nightmares would follow shortly afterwards, they always did, and she’d wake up to Aaron talking her through it, knowing from experience that if he touched her before she was fully awake and aware of her surroundings he’d only add to the torture her subconscious had lined up for her. A grim showreel of things she wishes she could forget. 

The hardest thing to grabble with was that she couldn’t wish she had never met Ian, because without him she never would have moved and met Aaron. It felt like a cruel twist of fate, a joke of sorts from the universe that had no punchline, that the very worst thing that had ever happened to her had led her to the best. 

The alarm on her nightstand rings out, and she reaches to turn it off before pressing a kiss to Eleanor’s forehead, “Ok honey, you go downstairs and tell Daddy I’ll be there in a minute.” 

Eleanor nods before she scrambles off the bed, talking over her shoulder as she goes, “Love you, Mommy.” 

“Love you too, Ellie,” she replies, smiling as she watches her daughter run down the hallway, her footsteps slowing as she reaches the stairs. Emily stretches her arms over her head as she climbs out of bed, sighing as she rubs at her eyes before she leaves the room, ready to go downstairs and join her family. 

She yawns as she walks into the kitchen, distracted by the thought of work and everything she needed to get done that day, and she almost walks straight into Aaron. He stops her just in time, his hands on her shoulders as he holds her in place, a wry smile on his face. 

“What is it with you and always walking into me?” He asks, his tired eyes sparkling with love for her as he leans down to kiss her cheek. 

She rolls her eyes at him but can’t help but smile as she remembers the first time they met. How she’d walked straight into him, distracted by moving to a new town and the things she’d never quite been able to escape. He always brought it up, exaggerating how they met for all of their friends, false claims that she’d literally knocked him over, the first impression so strong he’d had no choice but to fall in love with her. 

“Any excuse to get caught by you,” she quips, winking at him as he kisses her cheek before he lets her go, “Do you have a busy day today?” 

Ever since he’d successfully prosecuted George Foyet a year ago he’d become one of the Attorney General’s favourite prosecutors and was now often given the most high-profile cases in DC. It was everything he’d trained for, those long nights in law school when she’d switch between helping him study and distracting him to give him a well-earned break, paying off. There were rumours the Attorney General was training him up to eventually replace him. 

“No court, thankfully,” he replies, turning to the kitchen counter where Eleanor was sitting to finish pouring the milk into her cereal, “But a lot of casework to look over,” he puts their daughter’s cereal in front of her and then turns back to Emily, “You?”

“Just a lot of meetings,” she says, grimacing as she thinks of her day. There were times when she missed being more actively involved in social work, but mostly she was grateful for what she did now. Working closely with government officials to help create policies to protect the most vulnerable in society. It was a change she made when she had Eleanor, something that allowed her to spend more time with her family. “But I’ll be able to pick up this one from school,” she says, playing with one of Eleanor’s braids, “How about you sweet girl? Busy day at Kindergarten?” 

Eleanor shrugs and continues eating her cereal. Aaron chuckles and kisses his wife’s temple before moving past her to make coffee.

“You go get ready, sweetheart,” he says, smiling at his wife, “I’ll get your breakfast sorted.” She nods and turns to head back upstairs, ready for the day ahead of her. 

When she looked back on that morning in the coming weeks, she was grateful for it, for the last taste of normalcy before their lives were turned upside down.

___

“A spokesperson for Red Onion State Prison has confirmed that the riot is now under control-”

Emily switches the tv channel from the news, something Aaron liked to watch when he couldn’t sleep, to a cartoon for Eleanor.

“Right, sweet girl,” she says, kissing the top of her daughter's head as the little girl settles on the couch, “Mommy has to do a little bit more work, ok? And then when Daddy gets home we’ll have dinner.” 

Eleanor nods, her focus on the tv already and Emily kisses her head once more before she heads towards the dining room. She sits at the table, about to read over some paperwork, when she hears the doorbell ringing. She stands up and shakes her head at the thundering footsteps from her daughter, who seemed to always create a lot of noise despite being small, running down the hallway. She reaches the front door seconds before Eleanor and raises her eyebrow at her. 

“Eleanor Brooke Hotchner, what have we said about you answering the door?” She says, grateful that she’s able to hide her amusement at her daughter's enthusiasm. Eleanor was such a happy little girl, always excited to see the people she loves, and Emily couldn’t help but wonder what she herself could have been like if Elizabeth had been a little more like the mother Emily always strove to be. 

Eleanor looks up at her, her eyes wide in a way that Aaron always said she got from her, “Not to do it because it could be anybody.” 

“Exactly,” Emily says, squeezing her shoulder, “We’ve got to be safe, right?” 

“But Mommy it’s not just anybody it’s Aunt Haley, I saw her car,” Eleanor exclaims, almost bouncing back and forth on her feet with excitement at the prospect of seeing her favourite person outside of her direct family. 

Emily shakes her head, and smiles, “Well, I guess we’d better let her in then, huh?” She turns and opens the door, smiling at her friend as she comes into view, her arms loaded with Pyrex dishes, “Hi Haley, sorry about that.”

“It’s ok,” she chuckles, the sparkle in her eyes letting her know she’s heard their conversation from outside, she looks down at Eleanor who smiles and rushes to Haley, wrapping her arms tight around her, “Well hello to you too, El.” 

“Let Aunt Haley in the door at least, Ellie,” Emily says, reaching to take the food Haley had brought for them from her hands, “I’ll take these,” she says gratefully, “You know, you really don’t have to cook for us.” 

“Well someone has to,” Haley replies, wrapping her arms around Eleanor and guiding her into the house, closing the door behind her, “Neither you nor Aaron can cook anything apart from boxed Mac and Cheese,” she quips, following Emily into the kitchen, Eleanor still wrapped around her, “Besides, it took my mind off of things.” 

Emily pauses just before she puts the casseroles down and she turns to look at her friend. There was tension in her shoulders and a sense of sadness in her eyes, her smile a little tighter than usual, and Emily sighs. 

“Ellie,” she says, turning her attention to her daughter, “Why don’t you go play for a little bit and then find all those drawings you did at school for Aunt Haley? I know she’d love to see them.”

“You did drawings for me?” Haley says, looking down at Ellie, her voice full of enthusiasm that was only partially exaggerated, “I’m excited to see them.”

“Ok!” Eleanor says, dislodging herself from Haley and running out of the kitchen and up the stairs to her bedroom. As soon as she is out of earshot, Emily leans against the kitchen counter and looks at Haley.

“Is this a glass of wine conversation or a coffee conversation?” She asks, and Haley chuckles humourlessly, sitting on one of the stools at the counter. 

“Rick moved out today.” 

Emily groans sympathetically, “Wine it is,” she says, placing her hand over her friends before she turns to the fridge, “What happened?” 

Haley had met Rick several years ago at a work conference, and they’d hit it off. At first, Aaron had been unsure about the relationship, worried about his son spending so much time with someone he barely knew, and Emily had been the one to point out he’d moved on to her. That Haley had accepted someone else in her son’s life even if the road to where they were now was rocky at the start. Their friendship was forged the day Haley saved her from Ian. A case of being in the right place at the right time that led to where they were now - Emily and Aaron’s daughter calling the woman he once would have married ‘aunt.’ 

More recently, especially since Jack had left for college the year before, Haley’s relationship with Rick had seemed to slowly unravel. Ever since Haley was twenty her entire life had been about her son and doing the best for him that she could, and all of a sudden she had time to do what she wanted. It’s when the differences between her and the man she’d been with for 6 years started to show. She wanted to get married, but he didn’t. He wanted a kid, and she didn’t want to start all over again. 

“We just…didn’t want the same things,” Haley says, smiling gratefully when Emily passes her a glass of wine, “He kept talking about kids and I’ve been so clear from the start that I didn’t want any more. I guess he thought I’d change my mind.” 

“I’m sorry Haley,” she says, sitting next to her, “I know you love him.”

“Yeah,” she chokes out, “I do,” she shakes her head at herself and has a sip of wine, “I’m sure he’ll move on. Find someone a bit younger to have a family with, I seem to be a good practise long term girlfriend” she looks at Emily, and clears her throat, “Sorry, no offence.” 

Emily smiles, “None taken.” 

It was easy to forget sometimes that Haley and Aaron had ever been together. She wondered if it was because she’d never seen it. She’d come into their lives after they had already broken up. There were no romantic feelings between the two of them, but Emily knew that Aaron loved Haley as a friend and the mother of his son. 

“Anyway, I came here to distract myself,” Haley says, “How are you?” 

Emily blows out a breath, “Ok, I guess,” she replies, shrugging, “Work is pretty steady at the moment. Aaron is doing really well with his work.” Haley smiles at her indulgently, her eyebrow raised, “Are you really asking me about the baby thing?” 

“Yes,” she answers immediately, her eyes sparkling, “I don’t want a baby of my own but I want to spoil another one of yours.” 

Emily shakes her head, “Well, we are trying,” she says, “And if…” she swallows thickly, a tight smile spreading over her face, “If it happens you will be the first to know. Apart from Aaron of course.” 

Haley reaches out and places her hand on Emily’s arm, “It will happen. I’m sure of it.”

Emily chuckles, “Well I’m glad someone is.” 

A door flys open upstairs, and the time Eleanor had allowed them as she played had clearly come to an end. 

“I found the drawings!” 

Emily and Haley exchange a soft smile and then Emily shouts towards the stairs, “Come and show us, sweetie.”

___

Aaron picks up his briefcase and rolls his neck as he prepares to leave his office, excited to get home to his wife and daughter. 

He’s barely made it into the hallway, still standing in the doorway of his office, when one of the assistant attorneys approaches him, a grim look on his face. 

“Grant,” Aaron groans, “Please don’t tell me it’s a new case. Surely it can wait until morning. I’d quite like to get home.” 

“No,” Grant says, shaking his head, “Nothing like that. Have you heard about what happened at Red Onion State?” 

Aaron nods, “Yes, there was a riot. It’s being reported that it’s all under control now.” 

“It is,” Grant replies, clearly choosing his words carefully, clearing his throat, “But…two prisoners escaped. Cell mates. The prison guards believe that the riot was started so they could get out.” 

Aaron feels a pit form in his stomach and his chest gets tighter, a sense of foreboding that he can’t describe washing over him. 

“Why are you telling me this? Is it someone I put away?” 

Grant nods, “It’s George Foyet.” 

Aaron sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose before looking back at the other man, “He escaped custody before his trial, he knows what he’s doing,” he shakes his head, “I assume they’ve followed the usual procedures.” 

“State troopers are checking all vehicles in the surrounding area and every cop has an up-to-date photo of him, we’ll capture him.” 

“Ok, thank you,” Aaron says, “I appreciate the heads up, at least I can tell my wife before it ends up on the news.”

George Foyet had made some pretty distinct threats towards Aaron when they were in court, and had twice had to be removed from the courtroom by order of the judge. When he told Emily about it she’d worried. Concerned that on the off chance Foyet did get found not guilty, he’d come after Aaron. 

“Of course,” Grant says, and he turns to leave, but Aaron stops him. 

“Who was the other prisoner? His cellmate?” Aaron asks out of curiosity, sure that whoever it was wouldn’t compare to the danger that George Foyet would pose to the general public. 

“Oh,” Grant says, “Some guy who got put away for attempting to murder his ex-girlfriend,” he adds, shaking his head, “He tried to choke her to death in the middle of the street.” 

Aaron feels everything slow down around him, his throat going dry as he tries to swallow against the fear that climbs up it, the taste of it bitter against his tongue. 

He hoped he was wrong. That his instincts that were kicking in were incorrect. He couldn’t tell her this. Couldn’t tell his wife that the man who had caused her such pain, who still managed to sneak his way into her subconscious and haunt her in her dreams even after all this time, had escaped. It couldn’t be him. 

It couldn’t be him.

“What’s his name?” He demands, his fists tight by his side and his jaw tense. 

“Uh, I’d have to look again, he’s not-”

It couldn’t be him.

“His name, Anderson.” 

Grant flinches at the use of his surname, at the way Aaron spits it out like its poison, “It’s Irish. Donavon? No. Doyle. His name is Ian Doyle.” 

-x-

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