#SOBS SCREAMS CRIES THROWS UP ETC ETC

[saturdays--sun]

[ @strawberrisoulmate ]

HEY WAIT I'M GONNA SOB MY EYES OUT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[wolfisblank]

I have friends and mutuals who have played isat but none of them are close enough that I can rant about it to them unprompted so I'm just screaming into the void of my mind about it and also on tumble

[sugurizz]

(SMUT/NSFW +18 - minors DNI !)

𝐅𝐞𝐚𝐭.: Joo Jaekyung x f! reader - 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝟐 , 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝟑

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: "𝐒𝐞𝐞, 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐬, 𝐈 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐉𝐈𝐍𝐗…

...Don't you think that's strange?"

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 / 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: dark content ahead!, explicit content, dubcon, graphic content, dom/sub dynamics, power dynamics, HEAVY degradation, oral sex (male receiving), unprotected vaginal sex, anal sex (hardcore anal btw), multiple rounds, Jaekyung putting it in every hole you have, creampie (anal), insults /nicknames (Doc, slut, whore, etc...)

𝐰.𝐜: 1,2k.

𝐉𝐎𝐎 𝐉𝐀𝐄𝐊𝐘𝐔𝐍𝐆 − 𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐢 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

'I see you've made up your mind, doc...'

The husky voice came from behind your shoulder.

'...If that's the case, then hurry and strip to your underwear. Haven't got the whole night for this.'

He wanted to get it over with and frankly so did you. If you could skip to the moment he plows into you like a beast in heat you would. Your self-restraint slipped through your fingertips as you pulled your shirt over your head. As it did for seeing him undress and toss his luxurious bathrobe with no care. He pulled his boxers just low enough for his shaft to bounce free and towered over you with his erection in your face.

'suck.' He shamelessly pressed it against your lips, raven eyes locked with yours. And so you obeyed, taking him straight into your throat.

'See my size, hmm? oughtta get that throat nice and ready, miss doc.'

His girth stretched the corners of your mouth as soon as he pushed it in. The calloused hand grabbed your head and pulled it into his shaved pubes. You could feel his veins pulsing against your throat as his skilled fingers tugged on your locks.

Your chest instantly swelled at the lack of air, hearing him growl the deepest 'Mhh fuck! so fucking tight...'. He yanked your head back at once, almost making you throw up. the shiny strings of saliva still pulled your lips to his still throbbing tip.

'Not half bad, miss. But I ain't cumming in your mouth tonight.' He smirked, chest rising and falling as he tried his best to hold back .

His lips pursed together, spitting a load straight on your tongue and smearing it over your mouth before grabbing your jaw between his fingers with a maniac grimace on his face.

'If only Coach and the rest of the black team knew what our doc does in her free time...' He chuckled and smacked your cheek.

'If only they got to watch 'Miss perfect' slobber on this cock like a whore.'

His vile words jabbed at your pride, almost making your tears spill out, but you still had it in yourself to defy him.

'I'm not the one with the sex jinx...'

'Oh, got ourselves some attitude too, huh?'...

He slammed you down on the bed and sat on top of you, blocking your legs between his and forcing your jaw open.

'Don't try me. I'll fuck it right out of you, miss doc.'

You hated his attitude, or so you thought. Though your pussy clenching at his nasty words suggested otherwise. He flipped you over and pulled your underwear to the side, dragging his tip along painfully slow.

'Running your mouth while wetting your cunt senseless seems quite insencere of you...Don't ya think?' He teased and pressed it deeper against your entrance.

'B-But it's not like that! I'm just...'

A painful smack hit your ass, leaving the red imprint on your cheek. You cried out in pain and grabbed at his arm, your juices staining his perfume-fragant bedsheets.   

'Ah...Mr. Joo!, p-please stop..'

'Aww, got ya begging so fast already? slutty doc.' He lifted you over his lap and thrusted in, ripping the loudest scream from you.

'AH!' You threw your head against his chest in surprise.

He stood up and held your whole body in his arms, bouncing you up and down his length. You felt almost weightless in his embrace, wrapping your arms around his neck and muffling your loud sobs into his neck.

'Mr Joo, s-slower...please!'

'Shush, And hold on tight. Your butt's gonna hurt a bit now...'

He pulled out and gave himself a few pumps before switching into your tiny butthole.

'Sir, wait! I've never-'

'God, get it together now, would ya?' Another spank electrifyed you, making your asscheek all red again. 'We still have a long night ahead of us!'

He hammered away at your stomach, The flush on his cheeks gaining a darker shade. The pain of his reckless thrusts toned down, yet his unmatched stamina had you chewing your poor lip.  

'Mmh who could've guessed? Miss doc's getting her ass pounded like a slut.' He grunted, 'you sure carry yourself different outside this room. hmm?'

His pace got faster as his fingers dug deeper into your poor thighs, panting and groaning against your damp skin.

'Aghh..even I couldn't tell how well you could take cock when I first met you.' You knew he was fucking you stupid when his bitter words flew over your head. your brain didn't really catch a sound. Your senses saturated with him filling you up, till your body almost collapsed under his much bigger frame. His fingers instantly caught you by your neck, pulling you back up to him.

'Arch that back properly! you keep fucking slipping.'

'Sir! when..d-do we get to rest..agh' You could barely articulate from his cock punching your g-spot. And he'd be lying if he said the view of you babbling your nonsense while gushing on his dick didn't drive him wilder.  

'Ever rode dick before?' He teased,

'Cause you'll be the one taking charge now.'

He layed down and folded his arms behind his head, smirking at you as he stopped moving inside.

'Your turn, miss therapist.'

You leaned forward, already feeling dizzy, palms holding tight onto his defined pecs. Then slowly rocked your hips with his, whimpering as your clit kissed his pelvis.

Your skin lit up with every touch of his own, almost as if his touch burned you. His grip on your thighs kept you from falling, yet you still felt lightheaded, almost like passing out. He grabbed your waist again and slammed you shut on his cock with a furious impatience.

'AHH, Fuck!' You mewled as you came on his stomach right away. The shockwaves rushing through your muscles had you crash down over his torso right away.

'Hey. I'm far from done here.'

He lifted you off his chest and placed you under him. And you whined in response, feeling him enter you again

'Get your shit together now. I ain't here to baby-sit!'

His pace got instantly erratic and so did his grunts. Driving you insane with his hands manhandling your back, spanking your ass, grabbing your waist, squeezing your hips and mercilessly tightening around your neck.

'F-uck, I cum inside by the way.' He grabbed you in a chokehold as he pumped his potent seed in your butthole, then grinned and pulled out slowly, whispering into the crook of your neck

'I just made you my cumdump. Congrats, Doc.' you tightened at the sound of his voice,  pushing his cum loads out your hole. He licked his lips in full pride, relishing at the sight of your seeping butt before pulling you to his chest again.

'Oh and just so you know, I never go less than 3 rounds on my matches' eve...'

Your body grew numb, and equally did your brain. Though you knew he had yet to satisfy his desire. You didn't know how much longer you had to go, nearing to pass out on his greedy lust. His rough touches spared no spot on your flesh, his powerful thighs slamming yours in the most feral ways...

-----

...You woke up to the mild sunrays, faint hints of his cologne bringing back the lewdest flashbacks he gave you. He was nowhere to be seen, only a large-sized towel left on side of the bed you believed he layed on.

You grabbed your phone as you slowly regained your senses, seeing a notification on your screen.

'𝐉𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐝. 𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐛𝐚𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞.

𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐧𝐨 𝐩𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞., 𝐆𝐨𝐭 𝐢𝐭?'…

𝐖𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝟑?...

𝐑𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠 𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒.

[aimedis]

sam as a dad headcanons (+darlin') !!

sam and darlin' have one daughter (girl dad sam girl dad sam girl dad sam) ((this is like half darlin'-centric actually))

(note, there are a lot of inconsistencies with how these two would even have kids, what magical race their daughter would be (vamp-shifter hybrid), darlin's life span etc. but pls for the sake of my sanity pretend it makes sense lol)

Parents Darlin' and Sam who took a reallyyy long time to decide if they even wanted to have kids

Dad Sam who thought he wouldn't even know how to be a good dad, let alone if he wanted to have kids in the first place

Parent Darlin' who thought they were far too flawed and violent to raise a child

However, after a few years and slight jealousy from other pack parents, they decided to try

Parents Darlin' and Sam who regret not making up their minds sooner the second their daughter opens her eyes

Dad Sam who calls his daughter '(mini) darlin'" because she’s Darlin’s carbon copy

Dad Sam who also calls her 'sunshine' if she's particularly upset

Dad Sam who was far too paranoid to take his eyes off of his daughter when they first brought her home as a newborn (and he could afford to watch over her during the night/morning because he's a vampire)

Dad Sam who feels his heart shatter every time she cries

Parent Darlin' who finds themselves competing with a four year old for their mate's attention

Dad Sam who effortlessly flips between doting dad and disciplinary parent

Dad Sam who is surprisingly good at defusing the (many) tantrums his daughter throws, not getting mad but just sitting with and talking to her calmly

Parents Darlin' and Sam who were very much one and done (their daughter is too much of a handful to have any more kids)

Parent Darlin' who thinks it's both a blessing and a curse to have a daughter that acts exactly like them because on one hand, they have a mini-me and they can tell how she’ll react to certain situations but she also has their reckless nature and gives them a heart attack every other day (they find themselves yelling “Cut it out!” every single day without even looking at her)

Dad Sam who knows his daughter is just as strong as his mate but still worries over everything concerning her

Parent Darlin' and Sam who are still confused at how their toddler is so damn strong

Dad Sam who sobbed his eyes out when their daughter started school ("Wow, Sammy, you're crying almost as much as our four-year-old.")

Dad Sam who catches himself being too overbearing or protective sometimes and has to learn to let his daughter fail and get hurt occasionally

Also Dad Sam who after a few years of being her dad, becomes desensitized to her hurting herself daily (if she's not crying, he doesn't care anymore. a simple 'you good?' will do)

Dad Sam who said you would never catch him playing princesses or dress up (cue Darlin' laughing their lungs out at the sight of him in a way too tight princess dress getting his makeup done by their daughter)

Dad Sam who absolutely laughs when his daughter starts calling his Darlin' "darlin'" because of how often he calls them that

Dad Sam who is absolutely his daughter's favourite parent until Darlin' steps into the room (she will scream and cry to be in their arms)

Parents Darlin and Sam who have a very clingy very aggressive toddler that wants to be held 24/7 but will also start trying to fight them at random

Parent Darlin' who, after their daughter shifts for the first time, always play fights with her while shifted

Parent Darlin' who is constantly being forced to read at bedtime by their daughter

Dad Sam who rocks his daughter all the time in the rocking chair in her room

Parent Darlin' who finds themselves doing the high pitched baby voice they always found annoying to their daughter without even realizing it

Dad Sam who gets incredibly excited whenever his daughter's slight country accent comes out a little stronger

Dad Sam who feels his inner child heal little by little whenever he talks to his daughter the way he wished he was spoken to as a child

Parent Darlin' who acts annoyed when their daughter takes a liking to David but is silently happy she has a good relationship with him

Dad Sam who lets his daughter play wrestle with him just to laugh at her when she cries thinking she killed her dad

Dad Sam who tries not to cry whenever his daughter says he's the best dad ever

Parents Darlin' and Sam who show their daughter the same respect they want to see from her because it sets an example and she responds well to that

They are both so calm and understanding about her little temper tantrums that they don't even last long ("I know, it's hard and your feelings are too much right now. We're not gonna hit people though, okay? Okay.")

Dad Sam who has been wrapped around his daughter's finger since the day he laid eyes on her

[i4juni]

[ 6:35 PM | YUMI'S ROOM | YUHOON ]

tw: body shaming, unhealthy diet, yumi is told to loose weight ( in an unhealthy way ) when she was a kid, crying, cursing, yumi's mom is a horrible mom, pls lmk if i missed anything !!!

yumi was exhausted.

the reason for yumi's exhaustion wasn't the usual factors: practice, interviews, studio sessions, etc. it was her mother.

she had called to congratulate yumi on her magazine shoot with vouge korea, a dream of hers since she was a little girl. her call was surprising, considering the fact she never called for anything unless she needed money. but regardless, yumi answered the call in hopes of it not turning out like all their other phone calls: in a dispute.

“im only saying that you should loose a little weight, yumi.” her mother argumented from the other side of the phone, “you won't be hired for another magazine shoot if you keep putting on more weight.”

the younger sighed, running her hands through her hair, “i put on that weight intentionally, mom,” yumi explained, exasperated, “i was getting alarmingly skinny, it wasn't healthy.”

her mother grumbled, her words barely audible, “didn't you learn anything from the years you spent modeling? skinny is what sells best.”

in that moment, yumi felt like she was back at her old modeling agency. tears were streaming down her face as her agent screamed about how she hadn't lost the weight they had told her to loose.

“but i just can't loose it!” the 10 year old girl choked out between cries, “i've tried but nothing works, unnie.”

the woman scoffed, rolling her eyes, “well, try harder. i will be calling your mother to inform her about your inability to follow orders.”

“are you even paying attention to me, yumi?” her mother hissed, “i swear, you never pay attention to me when i speak.”

yumi snapped back to reality, realizing she had been suppressing her tears all while her mother went on her rant. her head was pounding from the force of keeping her tears from falling. the pain made her dizzy, she felt like she was going to faint at any moment.

“mom, i have to go. call you some other time.”

with that yumi hung up the call, quickly throwing her phone on her bed. she stared at it for a second, taking it all in. her eyes started to well up with tears, the sour memories of her agent screaming at her about her weight rushing into her mind.

yumi had suppressed those memories, so much so, they took her by surprise. the memories seemed so fresh in her brain, it was draining. she tried so hard to not let the tears fall, but the lump in he throat and her sped up heart beat made it increasingly difficult to do so.

“fuck-” yumi whispered as a single tear rolled down her cheek, “no, no, no-” she felt the tears start running down her face, she was breaking down.

her soft cries slowly started turned into sobs, increasingly getting louder. yumi slowly walked over to her bed, where she threw herself on. grabbing her teddy bear, she hugged it as a form of consultation but the tears wouldn't stop. her cries only got louder.

“yuyu?” a soft voice called out for from her bedroom door. the younger sat up in her bed, looking over to her door to see sunghoon. his eyes met her puffy ones and his face scrunched in confusion.

“what happened? why are you crying?” he questioned, quickly making his way over to her bed and taking a seat in front of her.

yumi knew couldn't say anything without a sob escaping her lips, but tried nonetheless, “my mom called.” she whispered, tears still streaming down her cheeks.

sunghoon's face went from confused to sad, a frown forming on his lips as he scoot closer to the girl, “oh, yuyu.” he whipped the tears from her cheeks and tucked that annoying strand of hair behind her ear.

he didn't have to hear what her mother said to know she had, yet again, body shammed yumi. it wasn't the first time she had called just to bombard her daughter with unnecessary comments about her body. sunghoon had been present the first time it happened, it was awful to see how degrading the comments were. when the call ended, yumi was close to tears and him, together with the other members, had to do damage control. but even though this wasn't the first time it had happened, she had never left her daughter sobbing.

yumi stared at the older boy for a second before collapsing on him, sobbing into his chest. he let out a small gasp, the action took him by surprise. he wrapped his arms around the girl, soothingly rubbing her back, “its okay, I'm here.”

he knew she would be crying for a while, he was mentally prepared to be there for a good while but he didn't mind. he just wanted for her to feel better, it broke his heart into a thousand pieces seeing her like this. he couldn't phantom the thought of her own mother telling her those comments, knowing it tore the girl down. he only hoped that his presence would help soothing, even if it wasn't much.

author's note ! feeling pretty proud of this !! thank you to @flowerjun for beta reading this 🩷

taglist ( open ) ! @seolboba, @flowerjun, @lost-leopard-beanie

[sioishere]

COD Angst

Warning(s): I don't really know how to write so please bear with me. Also, Price is not in here. I couldn't think of a prompt for him. You can put ideas for me. I will get to them as quickly as I can.

-Simon "Ghost" Riley

If Simon had children, he would be so terrified of becoming like his father that he'd separate himself from them.

Not showing up for dances even if he's free, not picking them up from school, staying in his room most of the time, etc.

He'll shut down when confronted about it. Going silent, not responding, and basically it looks like he's ignoring you.

He's not.

He heard every word you yelled. He saw every tear that was dropped.

He wishes he can be the father you pray and wish for him to be.

But he just can't

"Oh my god Simon! This is the fifth recital! Do you understand that those kids love you? Why can't you just be here?" You screamed, tear filling your eyes remembering the look on your daughter's face as she realized he wasn't there.

Simon had just been sitting there as you got your anger out. His head was down and you could barely hear his breath. The tears that were gathered in his eyes didn't fall as he listened to the well-deserved insults you were throwing at him.

He looked up only hearing the six words that made his heart drop lower than hell itself.

"I think I want a divorce..."

-John "Soap" Mactavish

John would be so secretive because of his job.

It's not his fault, but you just can't bring yourself to act like things are fine when he disappears for a month or two.

When he comes back, it's like he never did.

His body was there, but his mind wasn't.

He'll keep his phone and computer away from you, hiding everything.

Keeps a room locked in the house for weapons.

He gets a call at like five in the morning and leaves with just a quick kiss.

You tear up as he leaves, remembering all the times he left you alone in the seemingly colder house.

You kept repeating "Just a few more years of this then we're done."

It didn't help.

It was your birthday, and yet here you were sitting in front of the blown-out cake as your husband was getting ready to leave. You had tears streaming down your face as you just broke down. Johnny rushed into the kitchen, hearing your cries. "What's wrong?" He asked while sitting next to you. You just kept crying, only able to get one word out.

"Why?"

Johnny sighed. You had this conversation before. "I have to." "No! You chose this mission! You had a choice whether not to go." You sobbed as he just sat there, shocked. The people had given him the choice of whether or not to go on that, at least on a month-long mission. Why did he choose to go? You don't know, but you couldn't think, hiccuping as you sobbed.

"Leave."

"Love,-"

"Go!"

You screamed at him as you got up from your chair and threw his bag at him. Johnny could tell by the pissed but hurt look on your face.

You were done.

-Kyle "Gaz" Garrick (Sorry this one's a little short. Couldn't imagine my baby doing this..😅)

Kyle says hurtful things without even realizing it.

He's blunt and so honest it hurts.

You try to appreciate it, but at times it gets stressful.

Especially, when you already have insecurities..

You were staring at the mirror, poking at your thighs. You just didn't like something about them. As you were worrying, Kyle walked in with headphones blaring, not noticing. "Hey, babe?" You called for him, but he didn't answer. So you turned and tapped him.

"Babe."

"What." He set down his headphones, looking a little annoyed. He turned around to see you. You ignored the comment and looked up at him with uncertainty. "What do you think about my thighs. I mean, like...Do they look bad or?.." You rambled until he looked at you weirdly.

"You called me to ask about your thighs?" He asked coldly. You stopped talking and just looked at him. "What?.." He scoffed and turned back to his phone. "It's thighs. Maybe instead of whining, you could actually do something about it."

You just froze, not sure what to say. Emotions passed all through you, but the strongest one was anger.

"Excuse me?" Kyle sighed and looked back up. "If you have a problem with your thighs, then solve it. I don't know what to say." You just stared.

"I think you've said enough."

[jedipoodoo]

love you to the moon and to saturn

part one | part two | part three | part four | part five

part three: all you had to do was stay

Notes/Warnings: General angst, recovery from torture, etc. Omega has MASSIVE survivor's guilt.

Omega screamed. Emerie and the TKs took a step back, reeling at the cry of pain from such a small girl.

Hemlock sighed, and pushed Omega away, towards Emerie. Hemlock listed off instructions as if nothing had happened, but Omega couldn't hear them. Her heart was breathing fast, too fast, like Hunter's had. She couldn't hear anything, but as Emerie tugged on her arm, Omega realized that they were trying to take her away.

"Let go of me!”

"We're taking you back to your cell-" Emerie tried to say, as if that was supposed to make Omega more cooperative.

Omega screamed again, like a toddler throwing a tantrum. She pulled her arm from Emerie's grasp and tried to make a break for Hunter, but Emerie looped her arms around Omega's waist, dragging her towards the door.

“I thought you were my friend!” Omega cried, beating her fists against Emerie's ribs.

"I am!" she hissed, and the woman who was supposed to be Omega's sister ripped her away from Hunter's side, "If you and your friends simply did as the Doctor asked, you wouldn't be in this mess!"

"I don't want to do as he says!" Omega screamed. She kicked Emerie's shin, and stomped her foot, digging her foot into Emerie's insole. Emerie gasped at the pain and Omega slipped from her grasp, running back to Hunter.

"Hunter! Hunter wake up!" she screamed. She shook him once, twice, and tugged at his restraints. She managed to undo the buckle around his wrist, before two troopers took over for Emerie. They yanked her away from her brother without ceremony, tossing her over their shoulder as they carried her from the room, so that her last view of Hunter would be him laid before Hemlock on a medical table.

Omega was flung into her cell as limp and as heavy as a whaladon out of water. Crosshair hissed between his teeth, but he didn’t say anything until long after the guards were gone.

"Psst, Kid, you okay?"

It must have been the fact that she wasn't moving that struck fear in his tone. Crosshair wasn't usually concerned with her.

Omega didn't care. How was she supposed to have the energy to care when Hunter was dead?

She whimpered, and a few sobs came out, but that was it. She heard Crosshair shuffling around in his cell a few moments later when she didn't answer.

What would she even say to him anyway? "Hunter came to rescue you after all this time but I got him killed! Sorry Cross!" Omega sobbed again.

It was her fault. All her fault.

Out of nowhere, alarms began to wail, echoing through the Mountain. Omega flinched, curling in on herself. She didn’t care anymore. How could she? What else mattered in life if her brothers were dead?

She could see the glee in Hemlock’s eyes as she tried to keep her own squeezed shut. It was her fault they kept dying. Tech died because she wanted to save Crosshair so badly, and now Hunter was dead because he’d tried to save her. How many more of her brothers would have to die because of her?

“Omega?”

Her ears were playing tricks on her. She’d inhaled too many of the fumes from the Bavo-six. The voice sounded just like Hunter’s, but not like him at the same time. It was too gruff, too stern.

“Omega! Crosshair!” More voices, getting closer, but Omega refused to look up. They blended together in a crescendo right outside her cell, and Omega pulled her knees closer, trying not to let them hear her sniffle.

“Cross! You're here! "

"Is she-”

“No, she’s alive.”

“They dropped her in there a while ago. She hasn’t said anything.”

“Omega! It’s us! We’re breakin’ ya out!”

There was the tiny twitch in the air and the red light vanished from the edge of her vision that meant the shield door was down. A large hand covered her shoulder and gave her a meaningful nudge.

“Omega?” Wrecker sounded so scared, so worried, she had to look up at him.

There he stood, crouched over her with his skull-faced bucket balanced on top of his head just so. As she blinked up at him, a smile grew across his face, and his eyes crinkled in delight.

“Heya kid, it’s time to go.”

“Wrecker,” She gasped, and threw her arms around him. He had never felt so real, from the chuckle in his throat and the scar pressed against her cheek and the faint scent of Mantell Mix on his breath. Wrecker swept her up into his arms and carried her out of the cell into the hall, where Echo placed a hand on her knee, reassuring her that he was close. Other voices, the steady thrum of brothers talking in hushed, nervous voices echoed beneath the blaring of alarms. Safety’s clicked, and blaster packs were clipped into place as weapons were handed out by Echo and Rex’s clone unit. They were the only ones wearing armor, a mix of dull white and the bright paints that signified freedom and safety.

“Heya kid!” Gregor popped out of nowhere, grinning at Omega with a wave like nothing was wrong. Omega waved at him before she could even think about it, still wrapped up in Wrecker’s secure hold. She couldn’t help the way her legs wrapped as far around his waist as they could go, just for the extra security.

“You haven’t met Wolffe, haveya?” the yellow paint on Gregor’s armor was a bright contrast to the gray animalistic prints on the new clone he was introducing.

“Commander of the Wolfpack! Fiercest men in the Grand Army of the Republic!”

Wolfe shrugged off Gregor’s arms, “Formerly.” He reminded Gregor with a bitter tone.

The proportions of Gregor’s shoulderpads looked a little goofy, but they also reminded Omega of Hunter’s shoulderpads. Wrecker always liked to joke that he was trying to make up for his lack of height.

Omega hid her face in Wrecker’s shoulder as the tears began to sting.

“Where are the other cells?” Echo asked.

“The floor above us and the floor below are the only two that are still occupied,” Crosshair said grimly, “Everyone else is gone.”

The hum of voices took a sharp dip, like everyone was waiting for orders.

“Wolffe, Gregor, take the lower floor. We’ll take the next one,” Echo drew his blaster as Omega gave an embarrassingly loud sniff.

“Omega, are you okay?” Echo asked.

"Huh-Hunter," Omega sobbed, her nails grating at the plastoid of Wrecker's armor. She couldn't help but think about how much the noise always annoyed Hunter.

"It's okay, ad'ika," Wrecker gently patted her back, "You're safe now."

Omega shook her head vigorously. "Hunter's dead."

“Oh,” Echo said softly. He walked around to Wrecker’s shoulder so that he could look at Omega, slipping his helmet under his arm.

“Omega, Hunter’s not dead.”

“Yes he is!” Omega screamed, “He came and he tried to save us but we got caught and Hemlock tortured him and he died! And I couldn’t even do anything about it!”

The silence in the wake of Omega’s explanation was suffocating. She was pretty sure that it was only Wrecker, Crosshair, and Echo left with her as the rest of the clones tried to finish their mission.

“Omega, you have to trust me,” Echo said, though his voice was uncertain, “This is all part of the plan. We stole a v-wing, so when Hunter landed in the hangar, it planted a bug that took down Tantiss’ security. So while Hemlock was interrogating Hunter, he was distracted from the rest of us coming out of hyperspace so we could mount the real rescue.”

Omega had a very childish glob of snot leaking out of her nose, and she tried to wipe it away with her shirt sleeve, “But…but Hemlock killed him. I saw…I saw his heartbeat flatline.”

“Now that there’s a neat little trick!” Wrecker bounced her in his arms to help her sit up, “We got the idea from Wolffe. See, he managed to convince his CO he was dead by taking this pill from Felucia that slows down your heartbeat, and that’s how he escaped the Empire!”

Omega blinked through her thick tears. “...what?”

“Hunter’s gonna be alright,” Echo said, “He’ll meet us at the Marauder once all our brothers are free.”

Omega’s chest untwisted a little.

It was going to be okay.

Hunter's head pounded.

But he was alive, and that was all that mattered.

He was still strapped to the examination table. It smelled of sweat, blood, and tears from a thousand brothers, and Hunter felt sick. He wanted to be sick, but he couldn't let himself go just yet.

Omega, he had to find Omega. She was never going to forgive him for dying on her, and he had to make it up to her as quickly as possible.

Hunter opened his eyes to look around. There appeared to be no one else in the vicinity, but Hemlock stood in front of several data screens with his comms, yelling about the clones. Hunter could see streams of identical men on the screens before Hemlock, jumping the TKs and stealing their blasters, destroying precious machinery and making their way to the hangar bay, where dozens of V-Wing fighters were all on fire.

One of his hands was unrestrained, so carefully, Hunter reached up and released the belt on his forehead, his other wrist, and his ankles. His comm, knife, and blasters were just within arms reach, on the table scattered with a hundred operation tools. He gave himself a quick once-over, and was relieved to find that it appeared Hemlock hadn't used any of the ominous tools on him.

His comm silently flashed with the number four, the signal from Echo and Rex that Hunter was clear to proceed with the fourth phase of their plan.

Hemlock paced, yelling into his comm. He didn't notice Hunter as he sat up and reached for his blaster.

"You wanna know where my brothers are, you bastard?"

Hemlock froze, his head whipped around to spot Hunter with his blaster aimed at him.

"They're about to rain hell all over your precious secret lab."

Hunter fired his blaster, but the effects from the shock therapy still had him in a stranglehold. Hemlock dodged easily and sprinted for the door.

"Get the girl!" he barked at his men. The door shut behind him, and Hunter staggered to his feet.

The girl. His girl. They could only mean Omega. Snatching up his knife, Hunter lunged for the door with a snarl, using his vibroblade to carve the security mechanism from the wall.

The doors opened, deactivated, and a single TK stared at him, stunned. Hunter blaster him without a second thought.

They were going after Omega, and he wouldn't let that go unpunished any longer.

Taglist (comment/dm to be added): @chopper-base @giganonyx

[ilyxxnsm]

True Love 04 - TW!!

| is true love supposed to hurt like this?

warning: domestic violence, toxicity. don't judge. smut. reader's body type briefly mentioned. reader's ethnicity's not mentioned, but she's light skinned to white. mental health mentioned (medication, depression, anxiety, ADHD, etc). implied self harm (skin pinching, nail biting, scratching, hair pulling). of course physical abuse (hair pulling, slapping, pinching, punching, he breaks bones be fr, hickeys and bite marks??). drug dealer yoongi. everything against reader. reader's 17, yoongi's 23. this is fucked up, like really fucked up.

| stained my name to defend you, thinking that our thing was healthy, you, every day with a different one, and me, in ER all summer...

Things were going amazing, he came home after work with your favorite Chinese food, he fucked you so good for hours and even took you to Lotte to buy you a new phone.

But you had to ruin everything, you had to fuck it up.

He's dragging you across the pavement of the parking lot, his hand tightly gripping your hair, making your scalp burn awfully, your screams muffled in the night and emptiness of the place. He drags you by your hair, his grip tight and uncaring. "You thought I wouldn't notice your little stupid smile? Acting like a fucking whore?" He practically spits the words out at you, a mixture of anger and jealousy in his voice. He drags you further into the parking lot until you're behind his car, away from any potential witnesses, your knees scratching against the rough pavement.

You smiled at the cashier, you said "you too" when he said "goodnight". You were just being polite, and now you regret it. He managed to bring back all the times he thinks you cheated on him and accused you of having zero respect for him and your relationship.

You try to fight back, to push him away and escape his grasp, but his grip is too strong. He yanks your head back by your hair and snarls in your face. "Don't even think about it, you little slut." He drags you around a bit more, your knees and hands bleeding, and then suddenly, he stops and throws you to the ground. Fuck. You hit the pavement hard and your vision blurs slightly as you try to focus on him through the pain. He leans over you, his breath hot and heavy on your face, you wish he would kiss you instead of punch you. "Do you think I'm stupid? I know what you're doing." He grabs your chin roughly, forcing you to look at his beautiful dark eyes. "I'm sorry, baby, please..." You sob, but your cries are silenced by his fist blowing against your face, making you see stars and feel a stinging pain on your nose. He definitely broke it. "Yoongi..." You whimper, choking on your own blood as he punches you again, this time, your cheek, almost knocking you out.

He continues to punch you, his strong blows leaving your face bruised and swollen, he starts kicking you too, making you gasp for air, you can't even scream now. You try to curl up into a ball, trying to protect yourself as best as you can, but it's no use. Finally, after what feels like long torturing hours and hundreds of anger yells, he stops and grabs your hair, pulling you up to your feet, you feel a dull ache in your abdomen, and your face feels hot and wet, probably from all the blood. He sneers, "I try to be nice, I try to understand you, I do everything for you, I work my ass off for you, but you have to go and fuck it up again and again! What the fuck is wrong with you?!" Spittle flies from his lips as he yells at you, eyes wild with rage. He shoves you against the car door your head hitting it with a loud thud.

You feel a surge of pain, your vision goes blurry for a second and you can taste blood on your lip. He grabs you by the collar of your shirt, lifting you off the ground and slamming you back into the car again, this time harder. He grabs your chin tightly, forcing you to look at him. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, please..." You sob, but your voice is muffled by a harsh slap. "I don't wanna hear you" He sneers, slamming your head against the car one last time. As he lets go of you, you drop to the floor like a rag doll, your body feels limp and unresponsive. He turns away from you and opens the car, muttering to himself. "Call the police and I'll break your fucking neck" He warns in a cold voice before getting in the car and driving away.

You lay on the floor, your body aching from the impact of being thrown around. Your vision is slowly starting to come back into focus, you can see the blood dripping down your chin and you can taste it in your mouth. It's bitter and makes you gag. After a few minutes, you force yourself to sit up and lean against the wall. Your head is throbbing and your vision still blurs every now and then, but you manage to pull out your phone from your pocket. Your hands shake as you try to unlock your phone and dial 911, but your vision blurs again and you drop your phone on the floor. You feel like vomiting, but you fight it off and try to focus.

Finally, you manage to dial 911 and your voice is hoarse as you speak into the phone, "I need help. My..." You stop yourself, you can't say his name, you can't say he did this to you or he'll go to jail, you don't want him to get in trouble, you love him. "Someone attacked me..." The 911 operator is asking you for details, where you are, and you're struggling to remember it. Your head is spinning and you begin to feel faint again. You give them what information you can before you feel your hands faltering and your phone falls to the ground. You slump back against the wall, waiting for the ambulance to arrive, for all of this to be over.

You don't know how, but tou find yourself in the hospital after God knows how many minutes, or maybe hours. You just know that you went through a surgery cause you see the IV in your hand and no longer feel the intense pain all over your body. You're lying in the hospital bed, a white sheet covering your broken, battered body, giving you some warmth in the cold room. You want to cry, you want to hug him and apologize to him for being a bad girlfriend. You don't blame him for what he did cause you would be mad if he smiled to another girl, but you would never hurt him like he hurt you. Nurses come in and out, checking on you, but all you can think about is him. The man who claimed to love you and put you here.

The doctor said you have two broken ribs, your right wrist is dislocated, your nose was snapped in a half, you had a contusion and your whole face and body is bruised. You feel like shit. You don't even know how you're alive right now.

You open your eyes groggily the next morning, the sterile smell of the hospital filling your nostrils. Your head feels fuzzy and disoriented, and it takes a moment for you to remember where you are. As you look around the room, you see that you're alone, the only sound in the room is the faint hum of machines and the beeping of a heart monitor, it's such a familiar sound for you now. You try to sit up in your bed, but a sharp pain in your ribs causes you to wince and grimace. "Fuck" You mutter, wincing again as you lay back down. You turn your head when you hear the door opening, a nurse you've seen before walks in.

"Good morning, how are you feeling?" She asks, checking the monitors and making some notes in your chart. You let out a soft sigh, your body aching all over. "Like crap" You croak out, your voice hoarse from lack of use. She nods sympathetically. "I can imagine. You've been through quite the ordeal." She checks your bandages and monitors, taking notes as she goes. "The doctor will be coming around soon to give you an update on your condition. But right now, do you need anything? Pain medication? Water?" She asked, looking at you with a look of sympathy. You nod, your throat dry and scratchy. "Water... and something for the pain would be nice." You croak out, the pain in your ribs throbbing with every breath you take.

The nurse nods and walks over to the water pitcher on the bedside table, filling a glass with water and handing it to you. She then prepares a syringe with pain medication and injects it into your IV. "This should help with the pain a little. Hang in there, lovey." She says, patting your hand gently before leaving the room. You take a sip of water, the cool liquid soothing your parched throat. Just as the pain is going away, you see the door opening, and a man walks in, he's a cop. He scans your bruised face and bandaged body, his expression neutral but his gaze assessing. "Good day" He says, his voice professional but gentle. "I'm officer Yang. I heard you're up." He walks over to your bedside, pulling out a small notebook and pen from his pocket. "I have a few questions to ask you about what happened. Do you think you're up for answering?" He asks, looking at you intently. Your face goes even more pale, if that's even possible, and you freeze for a few seconds, your mind starts racing, making up a story that leaves Yoongi out of the problem.

You take a deep breath, trying to calm your racing heart. "Yeah, I... I guess so." You say, your voice hoarse. Officer Yang nods, sitting down in a chair next to your bed. "Alright, I'll try to make this as quick as possible." He says. "Can you tell me what happened?" he asks, his pen poised over the paper. You hesitate for a moment, trying to come up with a plausible story that doesn't involve Yoongi."Well..." You start, your mind working overtime to come up with something believable. "I was... I was mugged." You say, your voice a little hesitant. "I was walking home from work when two guys attacked me." You watch as the officer writes down your statement, his expression neutral. "Can you describe the attackers?" He asks, looking up at you. You describe two random guys who look nothing like Yoongi.

The officer nods, taking notes as you speak. "Did they take anything from you?" He asks, looking back down at his notes. "Or did they just attack you and leave?" You shake your head, trying to appear shaken. "They just attacked me and left." You say, your voice shaky. Officer Yang looks up at you, his eyes meeting yours. "And you don't know who they were?" He asks, his gaze sharp. You hesitate for a moment, your heart racing. "No..." You say, your voice barely above a whisper. "You know, the hospital called me. They're worried about you" He says, putting his notebook down. "They said... you fall down the stairs quite a lot"

You try to keep your expression neutral, but his words send a wave of dread through you. "Yes... I... I'm clumsy" You say, your voice cracking. Officer Yang raises an eyebrow, his gaze still fixed on you. "Clumsy enough to fall down the stairs repeatedly, break several bones and end up in the hospital multiple times?" he asks, his voice skeptical. You gulp, feeling like you're caught in a trap. "Well, I..." You trail off, your mind trying to come up with an excuse. "I have weak bones, a doctor said I might have osteoporosis, but I never got a diagnosis, so..." You stutter.

Officer Yang looks at you for a long moment, his expression unreadable. "Osteoporosis, huh?" He says, scribbling something in his notebook. "Quite unusual for someone your age" He adds, flipping through his notes. You feel sweat forming on your forehead, his doubts only growing. "That still doesn't explain the black eye and the bruising all over your body." He raises an eyebrow as he leans closer. "And these are not just from falling down the stairs, are they?"

Your heart rate spikes again, and you struggle to keep your breathing steady. "No, I..." You start, but he cuts you off. "Don't bullshit me, love. I can see it in your eyes. You're scared shitless, and it's not just from falling down the stairs." He says, his voice firm. "You have to tell me the truth. Who hurt you?" All possible excuses leave your mind as his words hit you. "I..." You start, but then your voice dies in your throat. You can't come up with a convincing lie, your mind is drawing a blank. "You're protecting someone." He says with a bored expresion. "Who is it? Your boyfriend?" Your breath catches in your throat, and you feel a chill run down your spine. He's getting too close to the truth, and you're terrified of what will happen if he figures it out. "N-no... it's not... it's not my boyfriend... it's... it's someone else." You stammer out, your voice shaky. Officer Yang studies your face for a moment, his expression sceptical, almost mocking. "Who is it then?" He presses, his gaze intense.

"You know that protecting him is only gonna make things worse, right?" He says, sighing and rubbing his hair. "Look, if you don't say anything, we won't be able to help you. Police is not good enough to open a whole investigation against a guy who hits his girlfriend if she's not the one filing a lawsuit against him, they just don't care, so if you stay quiet, I'll just have to leave and forget about this, and you won't get any help" He shrugs, looking down at his notes. "Believe me, if you try to sue him in the future, they'll turn you down, they'll ask you why you didn't do it earlier, and they'll just ignore your case, so your best option is to speak up now"

Your head spins as his words sink in. He's right, you know he is, but the thought of turning against Yoongi, the person you love, feels like a betrayal. Your heart is torn, stuck between your love for him and the reality of what he's doing to you. The thought of him being arrested, going to jail, it feels like a nightmare. You can't bear the thought of being responsible for that. "Leave" You mumble after a few minutes of silence, looking down at your hands, you'd never snitch on him, even if it kills you.

Officer Yang lets out a frustrated sigh, running a hand through his hair. "I see." He says, his voice calm but his eyes betraying his annoyance. "You're protecting him. Even though he's the one who did this to you." He gestures at your injured body. "You're going to let him get away with it." You nod numbly, your eyes still fixed on your hands. He sighs again, his expression resigned. "I have to say, I'm not surprised. Most girls refuse to report their abuser." He closes his notebook and gets up from his chair. "I don't get paid enough for this shit" He mumbles to himself before leaving the room.

As the door closes behind the officer, you find yourself alone in the room again, the silence broken only by the beeping of the monitors. Your mind is a jumble of conflicting thoughts and emotions. The pain medication has numbed the physical pain, but the emotional pain is still there, raw and real. You glance at the clock on the wall, the seconds ticking by painfully slowly. You have no visitors, no one besides the doctors and nurses that come to check up on you. No sign of Yoongi.

A few days pass by, and you find yourself getting used to the hospital routine. The nurses are kind and attentive, but you find yourself longing for something else. Something, or someone. As you sit in your hospital bed, staring out the window at the overcast sky, the door to your room opens. You turn your head, expecting to see a doctor or a nurse, but instead, you see Yoongi standing there. He looks at you, his expression unreadable. There's no trace of remorse or guilt on his face, just a blank look that makes your heart ache. You don't say anything, just look at each other for a few seconds. He finally speaks, his voice low and rough. "How are you feeling?"

Your heart skips a beat as you hear his voice, but you try to keep your expression neutral. "Fine…" You say, avoiding his gaze. The tension in the room is palpable, the air thick with unspoken words. He takes a step closer to your bed, his eyes roaming over your bruised and battered body. "You look like hell" He says, his voice cold. You flinch at his words, feeling a pang of pain in your chest. "Y-yeah, I guess I do…" You mumble, looking down at your hands. He takes another step closer, his gaze shifting to your face. He reaches out and gently touches your cheek, his fingers brushing against your bruised skin. You can't help but flinch at his touch, the memories of the last time he touched you making you wince. "Does it hurt?" He asks, his voice barely above a whisper. You nod, not trusting your voice to speak. He withdraws his hand, taking a step back. "I'm sorry" He mutters, his eyes scanning your bruised face.

You look up at him, surprised by his apology. It's the first time he's ever admitted to being sorry for what he's done to you. You don't know if it's genuine or just a manipulation tactic, but your heart skips a beat. "Why did you do that to me?" You whisper, your voice shaking. He looks away, unable to meet your gaze. "I don't know…" He mutters, running a hand through his hair. "I lost control. I didn't mean to hurt you."You nod, not sure if you believe him. "You always say that" You say, your voice weak. "But it keeps happening. How long is it gonna keep happening?" He doesn't answer, his gaze fixed on the ground. The silence in the room is deafening, the only sound the steady beeping of the heart monitor. "I don't like it when you're like this..." You mumble, tears treating to fall of your eyes. You reach to hold his long fingers between your injured ones. "You scare me... I don't like to be scared of you"

He looks down at your hands, watching as your trembling fingers hold onto his. There's a flicker of something passing through his eyes, something that almost looks like remorse, but it's quickly replaced by his cold expression. He doesn't say anything, just keeps staring at your hands. Without a warning, he grabs your chin, forcing you to look up at him. "You should have just listened to me" He says, his voice cold and distant. "This wouldn't have happened if you just listened to me."

Your heart sinks as he says this, his fingers tightening around your jaw. The fear that you thought you had gotten under control starts to surface again, your body tensing up as he grips your chin roughly. "I'm sorry..." You whisper, your voice cracking. He scoffs, his grip on your chin getting even tighter. "You're sorry? You've been saying that a lot lately." He leans closer, his breath brushing against your face. "But sorry isn't enough anymore."

Your heart starts racing as he leans closer, your body frozen in fear. He stares at you intently, his gaze intense. "You're so fucking irritating." He says, his voice low and menacing. Before you can react, he pushes you back onto the bed, pinning your wrists above your head and straddling you. You try to struggle, but your body is too weak to put up a real fight. He grips your wrists tighter, his face inches away from yours. "Stop fighting me." He commands, his voice commanding and stern. Tears start to roll down your cheeks as you stare at him in fear, your body trembling under his grasp. "Please..."He grips your wrists tighter, his face inches away from yours. "Stop fighting me." He commands, his voice commanding and stern. Tears start to roll down your cheeks as you stare at him in fear, your body trembling under his grasp.

"Please..." You sob. "Stop struggling, you know you want this." He says with a smirk as he starts to grind his hips against yours, the friction setting off a spark within you. Despite everything, your body responds to him, betraying your fears and doubts. He smirks as he feels your body respond to him, his grip on your wrists loosening slightly. "See?" He says, almost victorious. He leans down, his lips brushing against yours in a tender kiss that leaves you stunned. He gets rid of your hospital robe, revealing the scar on your torso from the surgery, and your tender pussy lips that are glistening with juices, even in this situation, the smallest touch makes you wet.

He traces his fingers lightly over the scar on your torso, a look of concern crossing his face momentarily before disappearing as quickly as it came. He brings his hand down to your pussy, his fingers moving in a circular motion around your clit, you feel like floating, maybe is the pain killers. He inserts a finger inside you, feeling how tight and wet you are. He adds another finger, stretching you out slowly as he watches your reaction with hooded eyes. He continues to finger you, adding a third finger as he starts to thrust them in and out of your pussy. His thumb plays with your clit, rubbing it gently in slow circular motions.

His movements becoming more aggressive as he feels your body tense up with pleasure. He leans down, his tongue replacing his thumb as he starts to lick and suck on your clit. His fingers continue to thrust in and out of you, causing you to moan louder. You can't even remember why you're in this hospital, you're ascending to heaven. He pulls his fingers out of you, bringing them up to his mouth and sucking on them. He smirks at you, a wicked glint in his eyes as he spreads your legs apart further, exposing you to him completely. He positions himself at your entrance, teasing you by rubbing his cock along your slit. He then thrusts into you sharply, making your torso sting in pain, you can swear some of the stitches came out.

He starts to fuck you hard and fast, his hips pistoning as he slams into you repeatedly. He reaches down, grabbing your thighs and pulling them up so that they're on his shoulders. This position allows him to go deeper inside of you, and he takes full advantage of it. He starts to thrust harder and faster, his balls slapping against your ass as he fucks you mercilessly, not like it's any different the other times. You sob between moans, everything's blurry, maybe it's the pain that makes you dizzy, maybe the pleasure he's giving you.

You hate yourself, enjoying this despite the fact that he nearly killed you a few days ago, but it's not like you're gonna do anything about it.

He attacked you and you almost saw God, and now, he's fucking you and it feels exactly the same.

As just as he came, he leaves without any words, leaving you alone in your hospital bed, again, with suicidal dreams, broken heart and dreams.

[nectardaddy]

Thirteen Years [Porco Galliard x reader] 1

** This story will involve some level of spoilers, please proceed with caution. Also a lot of this story involves adult scenarios (i.e.: war, blood, gore, death, etc...) Despite this, I will try my best to balance out dark themes with more soft, wholesome ones. Please enjoy!

NOTE: this story is on Wattpad as well I AM THE AUTHOR

-- 

Prologue Seven years ago

Things were scattered across the wooden floor in a frenzy: cups, plates, cutlery, papers, chairs, all laid on the floor, some pieces broken and cracked. His older sibling tried to stop the boy's rampage; however, you stayed put and watched. Porco's pale knuckles were bloody and bruised from throwing and hitting everything in sight. All the young boy could see at the moment was red. You watched as his older brother finally got hold of him, grabbing him in a hug and not letting go. Porco struggled against it, his fit of rage unending from the yellow armband that should've been red. You couldn't seem to move as you watched the scene in front of you unfold; Porco's thrashing around, eagerly trying to escape his brother's grip, seemed to have no end in sight. 

"It's not fair!" He screamed, "Reiner never deserved the Armor and everyone knows it!" The young boy's voice cracked at the end, holding back tears as he continued to yell. Grey eyes locked with yours as he struggled against his brother - the pain was evident. Marcel tried to ease his brother's anger; telling him it was alright, he could live a longer life, and he would still be an honorary Marleyan, but the blonde wouldn't listen. He was so young and full of hope, but it was stripped away from him when he was forced to keep the yellow arm band. Forced to remain a candidate. 

"Let him go," you mumbled, catching Marcel's attention. But he ignored you, his brother was still in no state to be released. "I said let him go, Marcel," you spoke firmly. Your words held a certain authority that frightened him, and he hesitantly let his younger brother go. But the blonde's rage wasn't over, his eyes flickered to his brother who took a step back from him. His brother who now had a red armband, just like the five other candidates - except him. His pale hands met with his brother's chest and shoved him, Marcel being pushed into the table. Finally, you took a step forward, and another, until you were in front of the younger brother who was staring down the eldest. 

You wrapped your arms around the male, embracing him. It wasn't harsh, nor rough, you held him gently, hugging him. You felt the boy's body suddenly tense from your action, he was taken back. But this was the final crack in the dam that held back his tears. He didn't reciprocate your embrace, but he welcomed it as hot tears began to roll down his cheeks. A small sob racked his body before he leaned his head on your shoulder, the sleeve of your shirt becoming damp. You held him a bit tighter as he cried, he had never shown this amount of emotion in front of you, or anyone, before. You stayed silent, as did his brother, and let the boy cry out his pent up emotions. "I have to spend the next thirteen years alone. . ." he cried. 

His words made you pull away, the suddenness of it taking him by surprise. His eyes were red and his cheeks wet with tears as he looked at you. "You have me," you spoke quietly, "just because I wasn't a candidate doesn't make me any less of your friend. I'll still be here." 

-- 

1 Present Day 

The red armband he wore was in stark contrast to your own gray one as you walked side by side. The street was dirty and unkept, having to step over litter every now and then. The buildings you passed were the same, they were old and run down. The internment zone was nothing like the outside; however, you couldn't remember how beautiful the outside was. The only time you saw the world beyond the gates was at six years old; the Warrior program allowed Eldian children the chance of inheriting the power of the Titans - you however did not make the cut. Long days of running, fighting, and training resulted only in returning back home, not a candidate and not an honorary Marleyan. 

But the young man beside you was different in all regard, he was a Warrior, an honorary Marleyan, he held the power of the Jaw Titan. You held nothing at all, only the misery of forever being second-class. But the male beside you felt nothing but grief, despite getting what he had always wanted. The death of his brother made him realize just how cruel the world was, and he dreaded the day that he had to see the memories of the girl before him devour his older sibling. 

"I'm glad they're giving you a small break from training, I never really see you anymore," you stated and he was pulled from his thoughts. Your statement held truth, he rarely saw his friends and family in the internment zone. He was constantly surrounded by Marleyan soldiers or the other Warriors as he trained, learning to make the power of the Jaw his own. He no longer had the luxury of fooling around like he used to. He no longer had the time to be in your company, something he learned to enjoy over the years before.

"It's good to see you again, (Y/n)," his words were soft in contrast to his appearance. The male held a standoffish aura around him, his face blank, and his hands in his pockets. "How long has it been, exactly?" He asked, his grey eyes now flicking to you.

"Around two months," your quick reply took him by surprise. He turned his gaze to the path in front of him, leading no where in particular. He let a hum pass his lips as he kept walking. He didn't know it had been that long. He trained every day and rarely ever could tell what day it was anymore, he truly didn't now that many days had passed. He knew you missed him, a part of him missed you as well. You were the only one capable of sticking around all these years, and he had grown accustomed to seeing you regularly.

The time spent apart wore on him, even though it was a short time, so much had happened within the two months. He didn't know what to say, what to talk about, or how to act. Thoughts that were drilled into him him from the brass overwhelmed the thoughts of small talk and friendship. "How are you doing?" His words didn't hold the same confidence as before, he felt like a stranger to you.

"I could ask the same to you, Pock," you sighed. His nickname brought back memories he had forgotten, or placed in the back of his mind. The flood of memories played out in his mind and he stayed silent, letting his thoughts run wild. You had first heard the nickname from Marcel, hearing him tease his brother until the name slipped. You copied Marcel, earning a glare and a curt "shut up," from Porco. From then on the name stuck with you.

"I'm just tired," he spoke and kicked a small rock in front of him. Despite the truth in his statement, fatigue wasn't the only thing troubling him. He felt lost. He didn't quite grasp how to separate his "job" from his home, something his fellow Warriors seemed to understand. The drastic change in lifestyle was something he hadn't settled with; training as a candidate was much different than training as a Titan. As a candidate, he had more time at home - especially in the years of not being selected - but now he barely saw his home. He'd come home late, or not at all, then be up again in the early hours of the morning. He had forgotten how to relax.

"So much has happened in such a short time, I'm just trying to keep up," he admitted. "This is a well needed break." He sighed at his own words, he hoped to feel one with himself again after the few days he had off.

"A well deserved break as well," you added. "You look exhausted," you commented on his state. His eyes were dark and tired, his hair wasn't as pristine as usual, and his uniform looked slightly disheveled. He didn't look as put together as usual and it worried you. "They're working you too hard." 

"You might be right, but they have every reason to. There are rumors of going to war with the Mid-East Alliance, and we can't afford to be down another Titan, we've already lost two." The young man was no longer as cheerful as he once was, though he never had a bubbly personality, he was able to find joy in things but now that seemed to be forgotten. The rumors of war terrified you, you were at the age to be selected to fight - Eldians were more than expendable and the Marleyans would use every last one if they had to. 

Although the idea scared you, you pushed it to the back of your mind, "try not to think about that right now. It'll only wear on you more, just try to make the most of your time off." You spoke with a soft smile and looked over to him, trying to ease the war inside of him. "Since you finally have the time, we should look at the stars like we did when we were kids. Try not to lose the ladder this time though," you joked, bringing up past memories. 

The memory made his lips pull into a small smile. He and his brother would climb to the roof of their small house every night to look at the stars; Marcel was the one who taught him the constellations. You soon joined their nightly ritual, Marcel inviting you; imagining you climbing up the ladder to the roof every night without fail made him happy. The memory you had spoken of would make him laugh if he were by himself, his own idiocy getting the best of him. 

It was late at night and you all had decided to get some rest. Porco decided he would go down first, not yet learning the importance of patience with his peers. His foot slipped on the top rung and he pulled himself back onto the roof before the ladder clattered the ground. 

"What was that? Did you get scared, Pock?" His brother teased, seeing his younger brother's wide eyes. The eldest walked over to the edge of the roof where the youngest was and looked down, "Porco! You didn't!" He yelled as he looked down at the ladder that now rested on the ground. 

"Shut up Marcel! I didn't mean to!" He yelled back. The yelling peaked your interest and you joined the boys on the edge and looked down. You couldn't help but laugh at the situation, even if it meant you were stuck. "Stop laughing! It's not funny, you idiot!" 

But you didn't, his outburst only made you giggle more. "I thought you'd both be smarter than this, being Warrior candidates and all." You commented, earning a huff from the brothers. "Someone can pick it up in the morning. It's warm tonight, we won't die up here or anything." 

"You will never let go of that will you?" He asked rhetorically, already knowing the answer. "Hell, I might do it again for old times sake," he spoke with a smile. This was what he missed in the two months of training: talking to you and joking around. He felt like this was the rhythm he was supposed to be in, but he was still a few beats off. 

You chuckled, "I don't think people will be as willing to help. When we were kids it was endearing and cute, but we're older now, they might just think we're out right stupid." You looked over to him and sighed silently; this was the Porco you earnestly wished to see again. You missed the sentimental young man, not the one you were met with before. The one you met today was cold and beaten, tired and bruised; it made your heart ache. You were glad to see a piece of himself was still there under the rough exterior. 

"Especially if Zeke is the one the get the ladder again," he groaned.

The three of you grabbed onto the edge of the roof and leaned over just enough to peer down. It was the early hours of the morning, and the only ones awake would be those in the Warrior program. You patiently waited for the young Yaeger boy to turn the corner and appear on the path that the Galliard family lived on. Zeke took the path every day to join with both Galliard brothers in the morning on the walk to the gate; today was no different. 

"There he is!" You yelled and pointed to the blonde with glasses who had turned the corner. 

"Well it took you long enough didn't it!" Porco yelled to the young boy on the ground. Confusion was written on the boy's face as he looked around to see where the voice came from, but was met with no one on the ground. "Up here!" The glasses clad male finally looked up and cocked his head, seeing all three of you on the roof. He looked back down to see the ladder on the ground and finally pieced together why his comrades were up there. The young man burst into a fit of laughter upon looking back up.  

"Please! Please tell me you're stuck!" In between laughs, "this is too good, I'm telling everyone about this!" 

"Can you please just prop the ladder up Zeke? We don't want to be late," the eldest brother explained. In contrast, Porco sat with his arms crossed and huffed at the laughter from below. 

"Who got you stuck?" He asked, now holding his stomach from giggling and laughing. "Wait, wait! Lemme' guess! It was definitely Pock, wasn't it?" 

"Don't call me that, halfwit! Get the damn ladder so we can go!" Porco yelled.

His outburst only made Zeke laugh harder, "what's the magic word, Galliard?" 

"The magic word is get the ladder before I break your arm!" 

You laughed at the memory, "then let's not drop the ladder this time then." Your laughter slowly stopped before you looked to him. "I'll see you tonight then on the roof?" You asked, hoping to get the answer you wanted. You wanted to see him more, to speak with him, to spend time with him again. You couldn't quite understand it, but you wanted to be in his presence. Unbeknownst to you, he felt similarly. A part of him couldn't let the thought of you go, you were always there in the back of his mind. 

"Yeah, I'll see you then," he agreed. He needed the familiarity again, his life changed so suddenly and all he wanted around him where things he knew well and could understand. You were one of them. Other than his parents, you were the one that felt most like home. Not a Warrior, not a candidate, you were simply Eldian - what he needed. 

[doberbutts]

I have to tell you I adore you and all your fabulous fur babies!

I would like to ask if you can talk about your experience being on t, specifically the mental and emotional aspects of the hrt process. I have read a lot about the physical changes that happen, but I don't see anyone talking about how your personality, mood, energy, etc. change.

Thanks!

Hey thanks!

Honestly while there is a lot of misinformation regarding what testosterone does to your emotions, I feel lucky that my endocrinologist never really said anything except that I may feel wild mood swings or have trouble controlling my anger in the first few months as my body and mind adjusted to the new swing in hormones.

This is pretty normal for any hormone you take- when you first start, you may find yourself experiencing mood swings and feeling emotions more intensely. That's why kids deep into puberty tend to be, um, a bit out of control with their emotions. It's also why this happens again as you age into your twilight years, when your body once again changes its hormone output and can set things a bit out of whack. Or if you get pregnant. Or if you start hormonal birth control. Or if you take a steroid for something not even sex hormone related. Messing with your hormones can seriously throw off your grasp on your feelings and moods.

But the good news is, it's not permenant. By the time you're 5 months in, you should start feeling more like "you" again, unless your dose changes for whatever reason. And, even better, the "you" you feel like? Usually is a much more mentally happy person.

On a personal level, I didn't have random fits of anger. Which is interesting, because I have a documented anger problem that I have taken anger management for because I have had black-out rages [usually inspired by one of my sisters deliberately hurting one of my pets] [for instance she swung one of my pet rats at the wall by the tail like she was going to kill him and the next thing I know our mother is pulling me off of her as I'm pummelling her face with my fists on the ground and I do not remember the in-between] [I'm not sorry, fuck around and find out, don't hurt my animals and I won't hurt you] [also this sister sent me to the ER in a previous fight where she'd bodily picked me up and thrown me through a window so like. Don't feel too bad for her that I finally snapped and gave her a taste of what she constantly did to me]

In fact, I've had *multiple* people who know the "before" and "after" tell me that I'm much calmer and more emotionally steady than I've ever been. And that I'm happier too. I also used to anger-cry a *lot*, pretty much any time I got angry I'd also cry, but that also stopped happening so now I don't really get angry and when I do I don't cry about it.

I would say anxiety's probably about the same but depression is much better. Compared to who I was before leaving my hometown vs now, I can confidently say that I no longer consider the odds of whether my shower curtain rod can hold me for long enough. I'm much better at recognizing when my mental health is getting bad and when I need to take a step back. I get stressed and I can go "okay, I need to break away from this before I completely lose it" well in advance. Which is great! Mental stability and joy and security for the win!

I will say I don't really cry anymore. It does occasionally feel like I'm not really able to. One of Creed's songs came on and I teared up and my throat got all fuzzy but I think only one of two tears actually came out, vs losing him pre-T we're talking ugly cry scream-sobbing in my [now-ex]'s arms. Which, yes, some of it is just distance from the grief since it was two years ago. But also I've never been so in control that I only cried a literal couple tears' worth. Usually the waterworks start and then take a long time to end.

[all-about-kyu]

Summary: Miyoung is up late with an upset tummy, so Jaemin stays up with her. Though, your husband wakes up not feeling so great the next morning. Pairing: cashmere lop!Jaemin x fem human!reader Genre: fluff, slice of life Tropes: parent au, hybrid au Rating: PG Warning: mentions of surgeries, mentions of hospitals, sickness (vomiting, fever, etc), mentions of medication Word Count: 1,874 Note: enjoy this bunny!Jaemin fic <;3 @raibebe wanted this so badly when I was with her last week, and I finally got around to finishing it!

Neo Hybridverse Masterlist || Cashmere Lop!Jaemin Masterlist

It was another exhausting day at the hospital. In his one 13-hour rotation, Jaemin had performed seven surgeries on a variety of his patients. The most gruesome was an open heart surgery on one of his three-year-old patients. He huffs as he turns his key in the lock and steps into his rather quiet home. At least, it should’ve been quiet. Instead, he’s greeted with the sound of Miyoung mumbling and whining. The two-year-old bunny hybrid should have been asleep for a long time now. She’s always been a great sleeper too, so the fact that she was awake was very out of the ordinary.

Walking down the hall quietly, he stops in your shared bedroom to change into something cleaner and more comfortable. In the end, Jaemin opts just to wear a comfortable pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt. He still can hear his daughter mumbling and whining about something. A few steps down the hall, he finds you with your daughter in her bedroom. 

You turn toward Jaemin, and you know it’s clear how exhausted you are. You’ve been holding this bucket in Miyoung’s lap for at least the past hour and a half as she cries and whines, occasionally interrupting herself with another spout of throwing up. You’re about to fill in your husband on the evening’s events, but you hear your two-year-old start to gag again. You whip your head around and immediately pull her thick black hair and long, fuzzy tan ears out of her face. It’s not a pretty sight, to say the very least. The moment she’s finished with this most recent spout of sickness, she sees her dad and immediately begins sobbing.

“Daddy!” she practically yells between hiccups.

Jaemin’s already beside her on her small toddler bed before she fully calls for him. He scoops her up into his lap and does his best to soothe her sobs. Miyoung isn’t a huge fan of anyone touching her ears unless it’s you, your husband, or her best friend, Haneul. Anyone other than that, she’ll scream bloody murder at for touching her. So, when Jaemin starts gently running his hand over her ears, she instantly begins to calm down.

“How long has she been getting sick?” Jaemin asks softly, rocking the two-year-old in his lap.

“Maybe two hours…” you explain, “She ate dinner fine; just didn’t want to eat some of the fruits. She went to sleep fine. Then I woke up to the sound of gagging followed by splattering just outside our bedroom door.”

“Medicine?” your husband questions.

“You can try, but she’s been getting sick quite a bit.”

Jaemin nods, ears flopping forward as he does so, “You go back to sleep. I can handle it.”

“Jaemin, are you sure? You just got home and-”

“I got it. You have to go back to the hospital in the morning, I’m just on call tomorrow.”

You sigh, knowing that you won’t be able to convince him to go to bed. You lean up on your knees and kiss Miyoung’s head. The little bunny hybrid is still sniffling slightly as she finally reaches the end of her much-needed calm down. Then, you lean over more to give your husband a kiss goodnight. You know he’ll find his way into your bedroom once your daughter is finally feeling well enough to sleep peacefully. You exit the room and finally process just how exhausted you actually are. It doesn’t take long for you to succumb to sleep once you’re in your bed again.

“Can we go take some medicine real quick, Mimi?” Jaemin asks gently

She shakes her head and tries to bury her face further into her dad’s shirt, “It’s yucky.”

“It’ll make you feel better, though, sweetheart.” he explains, “It’ll make your angry tummy feel happy again.”

He can almost see the cogs turning in her little mind. Eventually, she nods. That’s all Jaemin needs to see before standing up (still holding her close to his chest) and making his way to the medicine cabinet in the bathroom. The toddler is already half asleep on his shoulder by the time they walk down the short hallway. It’s painfully obvious that she’s not feeling her best, but Jaemin knows he has to get this medicine in her system before she fully crashes for the night. Somehow, he manages to open and pour the medication with one hand before placing the small cup on the countertop.

“Mi,” he whispers, nudging his shoulder slightly to wake her, “Can I put you down to take this really quick?”

Miyoung mumbles something in her delirious half-asleep state that sounds something like a yes. Placing her down, Jaemin is immediately met with whines of protest from his daughter. Still, he gets her to take the medicine and praises her for taking it so well before carrying her back into her bedroom. She’s already asleep by the time he places her in her small bed and covers her. Her oversized ears are splayed out against her pillow, and soft snores escape her mouth once in a while. He looks at her with eyes that can only be described as sparkling with pure love for his child. Jaemin stands there for a moment, just watching her finally peacefully before moving quietly around the small room to clean up. He pokes his head back into the toddler’s room when he finishes. For a moment, he debates leaving her to rest on her own. That moment flees very quickly as he finds himself stepping into her room and getting as comfortable as he can with his head resting against her mattress. It’s not the most comfortable, but at least he can ensure that he’ll be right there for her if she wakes up and gets sick again.

You wake up and reach over to cuddle up against Jaemin, only to find that he’s not beside you. Panic rushes through your body for a moment before you process that he could very well be in Miyoung’s room. You trudge out of your room and poke your head in to see both your bunnies asleep on Miyoung’s bed. Jaemin is clearly too large to be sleeping in such a cramped, awkward way. He’d do anything for your little girl, though. He has an arm across her body, and his fingers just barely graze against her furry ears, subconsciously petting them slightly even in his sleep. 

Your presence must’ve been detected by your husband, though, because he shifts a moment later and opens his eyes. Something’s not right about him, and you already know it. He doesn’t say a word as he stands and shuffles toward you. You study his body language and notice how he’s making no effort to move his ears out of his face as he moves. Jaemin simply stops in front of you and drops his head on your shoulder.

“I caught something overnight.” his voice is rumbly from sleep still but clearly very stuffy too.

You chuckle and pet his hair gently, “You go lay down in your own bed, and I’ll get you some tea.”

He nods and snuggles into the crook of your neck for a moment before continuing on his way to your shared bed. The quiet morning doesn’t last long, though. As you’re making the tea, you hear excited small footsteps barreling down the hallway. Clearly, your two-year-old is better and ready to play already.

“Momma, momma, momma!” you hear her call, “‘M all better!”

“I see that baby bun.” you chuckle, lowering your voice to a whisper, “We need to be quiet, though. Daddy doesn’t feel very good now. He’s sleeping.”

Miyoung thinks for a moment before looking up at you with big sparkly eyes. Those eyes could make you move mountains if she asked you to. 

“I’m Daddy’s doctor?” she asks with a pout in her voice.

“You wanna take care of Daddy?” you ask back. She nods, “Okay, sweetie, I’ll take Daddy his tea, then you can help me get other things we need to help him feel all better.”

“Med-cine!” she shouts suddenly.

“You mean medicine? We don’t know if Daddy needs medicine yet, though.” you explain.

She pouts and stomps her foot against the floor. It’s a new bunny habit she’s discovered recently, and she’s milking it while she can. Miyoung reaches up toward you, asking to be picked up. You happily oblige. Her small finger points toward the cabinet where all the daily medications, like allergy medicine, are. 

“Daddy, med-cine.” she restates.

You’re not sure what she could get for him out of this cabinet to help him, but you indulge her still. Opening the cabinet, she immediately reaches forward and grabs a brightly colored container. It’s her vitamins. 

“Make Daddy all better!”

“You think?” she nods at you, “We can bring it with his tea and see what he says.”

You put her down and watch as she happily runs with the container toward your bedroom. You follow close behind with Jaemin’s tea. When you turn into your bedroom, you find her struggling to climb up on the bed while still holding the container of vitamins. Jaemin’s awake and notices her. He sits up, reaches to pick her up, and asks her what she has in her hands.

“Daddy med-cine!” she enthuses.

“Baby, those are your vitamins.” he explains, interrupting himself with a cough, “Do you think your vitamins can help me feel all better?”

She puffs her cheeks in a pout before nodding, “All better.” she insists.

You chuckle as you approach them, placing Jaemin’s tea on his side table, “Here’s your tea. I’ll go get you some actually decongesting medicine.” you lean over and kiss his forehead, “And the thermometer… and the fever reducer just in case we need it. You better stay in bed. I’ll call out so you aren’t sick and trying to take care of Miyoung.” you offer.

Miyoung urges the bottle of vitamins towards him again, “Daddy, take med-cine!” 

“How about a kiss from my doctor instead? That’ll make me feel much better.” he chuckles despite his ill state.

He sniffles for a moment before he has a lap-full of toddler. Miyoung gives him a very wet kiss on the cheek. By the time you return with the necessary things, you’re greeted with Jaemin’s (still sick-sounding) laughter and Miyoung littering kisses across her dad’s face. She knows he’ll stop her from trying to kiss his lips because he doesn’t feel good. As affectionate as the both of them are, Jaemin makes it very clear that if you, he or Miyoung doesn’t feel well, she can’t give them kisses on the lips, or she’ll get sick too. She knows that rule very well after catching the flu from you despite her dad’s warning. You watch them silently for a moment. Nothing could make these moments more precious other than everyone being healthy, of course. 

“Thank you, my Mimi. I’m all cured now, thanks to your kisses.” he smiles brightly at her.

You know he’s playing into her slightly, but he means his words still. It might not be cured in a physical sense, but emotionally, having Miyoung is the most healing thing both you and Jaemin could ever ask for.

COPYRIGHT STARLITMARK 2023© ALL RIGHTS RESERVED — reposting/modifying any fic or piece of original writing posted on this blog is not allowed. Translations are not permitted. 

Networks: @kwritersworld @k-vanity

Tag List: @raibebe @jaehunnyy @umbralhelwolf @wooyoungmybelovedhusband

[aidensteddybear]

regressor jake headcanons :D ?

Regressor! Jake Headcanons

•He regresses really young. His age range is 0-4.

•He’s very emotional. He cries and has tantrums very easily. It’s incredibly easy to make him upset/angry.

•His main caregivers are Tom and Miriam, though Ashley will take care of him at times as well.

•Absolutely loves being bottle fed by his cg. It really helps soothe and calm him whenever he’s upset or stressed.

•He also enjoys being spoon fed, but he’ll mainly want that whenever he’s in his babyspace.

•He’s not the happiest little ever, to say the least. It’s about a 50/50 chance that he’ll be in a good mood when regressed. If he’s not, he just sort of fusses, whines, and cries the whole time he’s small.

•Loves cuddling and being held. He’ll often go up to his caregiver and reach for them, which is his way of letting them know he wants to be cuddled or picked up.

•He tends to be very needy, clingy, and dependent on his caregiver. That’s mostly because of how little he is, but he also just hates being alone.

•Needs constant praise and reassurance from his caregiver or whoever’s with him.

•He can be an attention seeker. If he isn’t getting enough attention to his liking, he will absolutely start acting out. He’ll cry, scream, throw tantrums, make messes, etc. It doesn’t matter if he receives good or bad attention, as long as he’s getting attention, he doesn’t care.

•Actually, he does care about the bad attention quite a bit. At first, he’s glad he’s getting attention, but once he realizes he’s in trouble, he’ll start sobbing right on the spot.

•He’ll rarely get out in timeout though, that’s only if he does something really bad. He normally just gets a stern talking to and some sort of minor punishment. Like an early bedtime or something like that.

•Definitely the type of toddler to say he wants something, then once he gets it, he has a fit while saying that he doesn’t want it anymore.

•He loves bath time. The warm water comforts him and he really enjoys playing with the bubbles and all of the toys.

•He often does make a mess during bath time though. He loves splashing the water out, he thinks it’s hilarious.

•When he’s in babyspace, he babbles and coos a lot when he’s happy. He’ll also clap his hands whenever he gets excited.

•He’s mostly an involuntary regressor, his regression often gets triggered out due to being stressed or overwhelmed. Though, he does sometimes voluntarily regress.

•He’s often a lot more calmer and doesn’t get upset as easily when he regresses voluntarily.

•Absolutely loves to bake! He’s a very good helper too, and knows exactly what to do.

•He has a blanket that he’s had since he was an actual baby that he carries around everywhere.

[atlasscrumpit]

Hey I’m not sure if you’re taking requests but, I have this yandere moon knight idea where Jake/Marc/Steven took you from your abusive family and you’re mad and yelling at them that your folks must be looking for you, because you’ve spent so long excusing their actions that you can’t see how abusive they are. One of the boys calls your family to prove to you how they don’t care about you, they don’t even realize you’re missing because they couldn’t care less where you are, except they’re mad that your chores aren’t done.

You finally realize that you’re safer and better without them and the boys promise to never hurt you and to never force you to do all the housework, etc.

The truth

You hadn't stopped screaming all day, it was starting to give Steven a headache.

"Why is she so adamant to go back to them? They were abusive." Steven said while covering his ears.

"They were still her parents, she didn't get out much she probably doesn't realise how bad they were." Marc explained as Steven nodded and sighed.

"Please take over, one of you, I can't take the noise." Steven whispered, still covering his ears.

Jake quickly took over and made his way over to the room they had locked you inside of.

"Mi amor, just calm down for a moment." He bargained as you slammed your hang against the door.

"My parents will look for me! They'll have the police everywhere!" You screamed out as he sighed.

"Alright, darling. Then, if you come out and don't attack me or scream, I'll let you call them." He offered before hearing a moment of silence.

"Okay." You whispered making Jake smile.

He opened the door to see your beautiful face once more.

He hated seeing it covered in tears.

"Come on, dear. Sit down." He said before he grabbed the old landline phone Steven still owned.

He handed it to you and you quickly dialed the number.

"Speaker." He said as you nodded and put it on speaker.

Your hands were shaking while the phone rang, Jake wanted nothing more than to hold you, but it was too soon.

Your mother answered the phone and Jake could see how your eyes lit up.

"Mum! It's Y/N, I need you to come get me, okay?" You said with tears in your eyes.

"Get you? If you left the house, find your way home." She said as you wiped away your tears.

"N-No, I'm... Wait, did you know I was gone?" You whispered as Jake looked at you sadly.

"Y/N, I've got a shit ton going on. I don't give a shit where you go, just get back and clean this fucking kitchen!" She screamed before hanging up.

You felt tears run down your face as you looked at the phone.

"What?" You whispered in disbelief.

"No." You whispered before throwing the phone and bashing your hands against your head.

Marc quickly took control and grabbed your hands.

"Baby, calm down. It's okay." He said as you began to sob and scream.

"They don't love me! No one does!" You screamed as you fought against Marc.

"Sweetheart, easy, easy." He whispered as you stopped thrashing and looked at him.

"We are all here for you. You're incredible, and we will love you and care for you, we'll give you everything you need." He whispered as you cried and lunged forward, hugging him tightly.

"I'm sorry, I'll help. I can do everything you need." You whispered, gripping him tightly.

"No, baby. You don't need to do anything, we're the ones that will take care of you. That's what parents do, love." He said as you nodded, not letting go.

"Please, please don't let me go." You cried out as Marc smiled and held you close.

"I'll never let go."

[crumbleclub]

I've been putting some thought into what various Aftons might be like when seriously panicked, and this is what I've got so far.

Evan:

We have the most canon information for Evan in this area

Fear makes Evan cry. In a panic, he'll cry, have difficulty breathing, pretty standard stuff.

It's not uncommon for him to lose coordination and kind of just fall over

Panics easily, but maintains awareness well enough even at his lowest points

Almost always a freeze response, even though he wants to run. Becomes as small and unnoticeable as possible, aside from occasionally trying to seek outside help. (Nobody ever helps.)

Cries nearly silently.

Shakes like a leaf when he's afraid.

Responds the best to comfort out of any of them. Literally just acknowledge that he's suffering and don't torment him further and you'll make it like 10% less bad

Give him something comforting

Elizabeth

Rarely panics. Getting her to panic would require something to be both extremely distressing and surprising, and not many surprises escape her intellect

That being said, enough stressors piled up will result in a sort of burst of frustration that's identical to what a panic attack would look like for her anyway

Fight response. So much fight response.

Throwing things, breaking things. She tends to end up destroying things she really loves, and it often makes her cry afterward.

If anyone else is present, it's yelling, starting arguements about literally anything, insulting anyone within her sight, etc etc.

It's best to give her space and a safe place to calm down without breaking anything she really cares about. She'd benefit from being given the idea of punching something soft or screaming into a pillow or something like that. Put her into martial arts also maybe?

Calms down quickly when left alone, but it makes things worse if anyone tries to engage.

She would benefit from talking about it after she's already calmed down, because at that point she's tired and sad and could use the comfort

Michael

Michael generally doesn't panic during stressful events. He panics after they've ended.

During actual stressors, Mike will either be eerily calm and rational or dissociated to the point of it being obvious to anyone around him. This is directly related to how much focus is needed to survive a scenario; his brain will protect him in the face of danger by keeping him aware, but he's more likely to have to pay for it later during the inevitable panic

He tends to panic about something small and unrelated shortly after something major happens

And Michael's panic attacks are scary.

There are less severe instances ofc but when they get really bad

It's the kind of presentation that would get emergency services called if it happened in public.

It's the ugly kind of panic attack that makes onlookers think you're actually posessed. That strangled, scream-talking that's difficult to understand, sobbing, choking when he tries to breathe, red in the face, falling on the ground– it's really, really bad. It's a huge scene every time

He's got a fight response turned inward, and he's very likely to be a harm to himself in an actual panic

Because of this, he goes out of his way to avoid any possible chance of this happening in front of anybody. He will legitimately hole up in his room for weeks if he's worried something is going to set him off

Or he'll try to trigger one on purpose so he can control the circumstances and maybe lessen the severity

The really bad ones generally don't even happen that often but they really do fuck with him

Best response for Michael: stay with him and don't act like he's the spawn of satan

The drinking water trick works to steady his breathing somewhat

His attacks generally last <10 minutes anyway just bc of the sheer amount of energy consumed, so they basically just need to be waited out

Bonus round:

William

I cannot think of a circumstance that would cause William to have an actual panic attack

That being said, he's a flight response when he's actually frightened. If he thinks his life is in danger, he'll get shaky and sweaty, and he'll run

He always tries to put on the facade of having some kind of power, but it's not always that convincing. Faced with a life or death situation, he's one of those types who would stumble backwards and fall to the ground rather than find some way to fight back

In order to be conniving, he needs the upper hand. If you want to defeat William, scare him.

[tennessoui]

Okay okay okay

But Obi-wan finally coming back in pbatmb and finds Vader stalking the halls like he's haunting the damn place, right?

First interaction? He fully anticipates his pretty bird to have a reality crisis. Completely prepared to hush him and coddle him and kiss his head to ground him back to reality while he cries and sobs. He knows it'll take time to get his trust back once again.

But he's expecting Anakin. Not Vader.

And when he confronts him finally for the first time in months, bringing about the realization that he's not dead-

"Who are you?"

And of course that's just his pretty bird being cruel. Obi-wan has expected this too and thoroughly insists he play nice for his Daddy-

"Oh. Him."

And Vader just looks at Obi-wan's uncharacteristically messy dress shoes and sneers-

"Wipe your feet, Please. My house isn't a pigpen."

And that's as far as any recognition goes as he walks away. Essentially a complete stranger to a completely different man.

Which become hours to days of Obi-wan going through some semblance of the five stages of grief with what he assumes to be his husband playing mean.

Vader blank faced and unsympathetic to whatever tantrum this man is having in his house.

"if your going to have a fit, then you can take your problems up with Cody. I don't have time for squabbling."

And Obi-wan says something about his husband. About their marital duties to one another. Till death do them part and their contract-

"Contract-" Vader repeats with a scoff. "If your looking for his stuff, he didn't leave you much in the will."

"What will?"

"He's only left you the ring. Too pretty to bury I assume-"

"What will?"

"What? Not used to death? It's a slip of paper that you scratch so the government knows who's shit thier dumping to who-"

"Who's death?"

"Skywalker." He answered plainly. "And don't expect another dime from me. The ring's all he left you. Not his body. Not his clothes. Not his heart. He left it all to me. So you better get your ass out of My House before I have you arrested for trespassing. Councilman or not."

oooo that would be such an interesting twist and it's very very intriguing....

but tbh i have literally had the reunion scene planned out in my head since i started writing the fic and it has much more anakin and even vaderkin but not vader. much more crying and clawing and screaming it''s basically the first of two climaxes in vowbreaker so it's gotta be A Lot

very 'anakin can't believe his eyes, he's been hearing his voice sometimes but not seeing him, stumbles forward to touch, to make sure, wraps his hand into the fabric of his shirt and then throws him down onto the ground to try to beat the shit out of him while screaming and crying etc etc'

[pxppet]

what foods will they not touch and how do they cry for all 6 egos?? :3c

Jameson definitely is the type to have super specific foods he doesn't eat, from a mix of potential triggers and being picky. The main ones I can think of are things like grits, rice, and mashed potatoes, because those are some of the only foods Anti would buy during his captivity. Just very bland, basic foods that are cheap and instant. Eating food like that tends to trigger him.

Jameson cries without making noise aside from heavy breathing and sniffling. His throat condition stops sobs from coming out, but his face still contorts as though he is. He hugs himself and tends to curl up as small as he can to comfort himself.

(The rest below the cut!)

Henrik absolutely will not touch pork, and not just for kosher reasons - he's convinced himself he'll get every parasite known to man just from touching the stuff. He has health anxiety that can be nonsensical at times. He tends to get that way about most meats, and even if he does eat it, he can't prepare it by himself or touch it raw. He eats like a vegetarian due to this.

When Henrik cries, it's not fun for anyone. He tends to really cry only during panic attacks, and so that usually involves screaming until his throat is raw, throwing things at the perceived danger, hyperventilating until he throws up, etc. His whole face is soaked and covered in tears and snot. He's always incredibly embarrassed after calming down and doesn't like to talk about it.

Jackie has a lot of foods he won't touch, but to list a few: green beans, onion, mushrooms, poptarts, specifically apple jam or apple butter, eggs, and most types of fish. Jackie isn't diagnosed, but he has a lot of the symptoms of ARFID, so he has a mental list of foods he absolutely will not eat.

I've mentioned before that Jackie has barely ever cried in his life. Every time he's distressed, he tends to tell himself, 'not now, save it for later' and bottle it up. When he does cry, it's not that big of a show either. He goes very, very quiet and still, subtly shaking in place for only a few moments until he can pull himself together. Only a few tears get shed, typically, and he's insisting he's fine only moments later. When he finally does let himself cry, when he does snap in half, it's going to be rough.

Marvin will eat almost anything honestly, they're kind of a vacuum cleaner when it comes to food! But they do really hate super cold foods like ice cream after having their fangs pulled. Their mouth is too sensitive for extreme temperatures.

Anti doesn't need food to survive, so he barely eats anything typically. But he genuinely really hates fruits. They all taste too sour and strange to him. Even sweet things like peaches, he mainly tastes the acids, and it disgusts him.

Marvin is an angry crier. Their own emotions make them mad & embarrassed, so they tend to lash out while crying, hitting things and screaming at people to leave them alone. If they get to cry alone, they hide their face against something and sob very openly. They're the only one that really just lets themselves feel their feelings.

Chase is also kind of a vacuum, but he's not fond of most spicy foods. He can barely handle any spice, and so most foods of that type are untouchable to him.

Chase cries the most openly, feeling no shame about expressing his emotions. He tends to get very snotty and dramatic, babbling about whatever upset him for hours sometimes. He likes to have someone to cling onto when he cries, preferring to share in his emotions with someone who loves him.

Anti can cry, but no one except c!Jack has ever seen him do it. He gets strangely childlike and small, clining to people's clothes or a blanket. He gets a confused look on his face as if this shouldn't be happening in the first place, distant and dissociative, hugging himself and rocking in place. He tends to be out for the whole day if he gets distressed enough to cry and will need to just lay in bed resting until he can feel like himself again.