#always scared disorder is crazy

[bluupxels]

me thinking about how a completely mundane post could be problematic or start discourse so i dont post it

[girlspecimen]

i feel like something people really need to understand is that having a panic attack feels like you’re dying. this isn’t hyperbole or anything, to the person experiencing the panic attack it feels like they are dying or will die soon. there is no logical thought in the person’s mind because they are experiencing such acute fear; and this isn’t something they can control nor does it mean that they are an “illogical” or “crazy” person. even if one doesn’t have a panic disorder or has never experienced a panic attack, i’m sure they could imagine how scared and illogical they may act if they felt they were moments from death.

[sugarcoatednightshade]

thinking about how Humans Are Space Orcs stories always talk about how indestructible humans are, our endurance, our ability to withstand common poisons, etc. and thats all well and good, its really fun to read, but it gets repetitive after a while because we aren't all like that.

And that got me thinking about why this trope is so common in the first place, and the conclusion I came to is actually kind of obvious if you think about it. Not everyone is allowed to go into space. This is true now, with the number of physical restrictions placed on astronauts (including height limits), but I imagine it's just as strict in some imaginary future where humans are first coming into contact with alien species. Because in that case there will definitely be military personnel alongside any possible diplomatic parties.

And I imagine that all interactions aliens have ever had up until this point have been with trained personnel. Even basic military troops conform to this standard, to some degree. So aliens meet us and they're shocked and horrified to discover that we have no obvious weaknesses, we're all either crazy smart or crazy strong (still always a little crazy, academia and war will do that to you), and not only that but we like, literally all the same height so there's no way to tell any of us apart.

And Humans Are Death Worlders stories spread throughout the galaxy. Years or decades or centuries of interspecies suspicion and hostilities preventing any alien from setting foot/claw/limb/appendage/etc. on Earth until slowly more beings are allowed to come through. And not just diplomats who keep to government buildings, but tourists. Exchange students. Temporary visitors granted permission to go wherever they please, so they go out in search of 'real terran culture' and what do they find?

Humans with innate heart defects that prevent them from drinking caffeine. Humans with chronic pain and chronic fatigue who lack the boundless endurance humans are supposedly famous for. Humans too tall or too short or too fat to be allowed into space. Humans who are so scared of the world they need to take pills just to function. Humans with IBS who can't stand spicy foods, capsaicin really is poison to them. Lactose intolerance and celiac disease, my god all the autoimmune disorders out there, humans who struggle to function because their own bodies fight them. Humans who bruise easily and take too long to heal. Humans who sustained one too many concussions and now struggle to talk and read and write. Humans who've had strokes. Humans who were born unable to talk or hear or speak, and humans who through some accident lost that ability later.

Aliens visit Earth, and do you know what they find? Humanity, in all its wholeness.

[inniave]

keep seeing shit about the new ts album & mental illness and i am so so tired. please be nice to actually "crazy" people if ur gonna use us for the aesthetic. i'm not schizophrenic cause it's cute. don't joke about asylums if u haven't had those experiences (and even some of y'all who have been treat it like a vacation & to the rest of us it's prison. i mean literally. prison. incarceration. that's not new shit. and yeah, i'm that "actually crazy" person screaming in the ward. ur not any better than me.)

idk i keep posting and deleting about this cause i can't get my thoughts out properly i just. i'm tired. there was already a worsening problem of "socially acceptable" mental illness pushing out the rest of us (as it's always been) and now there's the top artist in the united states calling herself crazy, saying you should be scared of her, she was raised in an asylum, etc. and it's like.... that's my lived experience. medical doctors refuse to treat me because they're scared of my psychiatric disorders. i've had the cops called on me for episodes. i spent a decade rotting in the mental health system & institutions and i only got out after years of planning how to get away. and so much more i cant even put into words.

and now not only are y'all using folk like me & our experiences for the aesthetic. you're not even a decent human being to those of us who have actually lived through this shit. idk man. really rubs me the wrong way.

[lilylovestowrite]

AN ECCENTRIC'S ENTROPY ୨♡୧

PAIRING: (Dr Ratio x Professor! Reader)

WARNINGS: Suggestive

SYNOPSIS: For people who get into each other's pants a lot, you sure do know how to piss each other off...

WORD COUNT: 1k

Divider by @/cafekitsune

Entropy: The measure of the degree of disorder within a substance

“Will you stop your incessant whining?” Dr. Veritas Ratio groans, “I’d have thought spending more time with me would have caused your IQ to surpass at least a vegetable.” You roll your eyes and slam your new research paper down on your colleague's desk. 

“If you didn’t want to be surrounded by idiots, you shouldn’t have decided to teach at a university. Even if Stellaron University is prestigious, you’re still teaching barely adults.” You sigh with faux pity. “But I guess you didn’t think that far, poor Dr. Ratio.” Mockingly, you pet his head, the silky locks of violet slipping through your fingers as he grabs your wrist and forces it back on the desk. 

“I’m not reading your paper.” He shakes his head, brows furrowed and a scoff leaves his lips. Even though he looks up at you from his desk, the way he reclines on his chair so casually makes you feel small. It has always been like this. Veritas and his obnoxious attitude driving you up the walls. A prodigy yourself, the pursuit of knowledge has never been a struggle to you. Yes, it was challenging, but that was part of the fun. The thrill of tearing apart a formula and sinking your teeth in until it churns out a set of numbers that you like.  This allowed you to be the top professor at Stellaron for almost three years straight, until Veritas. Veritas, who opposes almost everything that you do, from the way you prefer to use a whiteboard and pen and him a blackboard and chalk. The way your coffee is dark and his is sweetened with milk and sugar to the point it doesn’t even look like coffee anymore. You didn’t have a problem with this until he published a scientific paper which had quoted your own paper published a month prior, and pointed out how it was not mathematically viable. You still remember the smirk he wore on his face when he emailed you the manuscript for peer review, the audacity of this man to ask you to proofread the very paper he dedicated hours to just to prove your own wrong! 

Naturally, your response is to ask him to do the same. But not with one email, but with twenty scheduled emails every other day. Sometimes, you like to add little emojis to the subject of your emails, and other times you embed links into the email that isn’t your paper, but wikihow articles. This pettiness has caused many encounters with him, some ending rather… intimately. 

Of course, Veritas has not proofread your paper, and you don’t expect him to, so he has no idea how much you’ve referenced his paper and disproved it. But you know how much it ticks him off regardless, the urge to tear through each of your arguments, even if logically speaking, arguing with you is  a waste of time. This degree of disorder is what drives him crazy. You sew chaos into his life as he does to yours, and as the entropy of a heating substance increases the entropy of its surroundings, so too does the tension-filled competitiveness from one of you, causes the other to maniacally lust to overpower the other. 

“Come on, read it. I know you want to.” You slide the paper closer to him, your hands sliding across the epoxy finish of the oak desk. “Unless… You’re scared I’m right.” He stares up at you with eyes the same hue of gold as the award trophies that line the shelves of his classroom, and cocks a brow. He stands up, leaning over the desk and moving his face closer to yours. His cologne almost overpowers your perfume, the musky scent of pinewood and berries he reserves for winter mixing with your vanilla scented perfume, and it sends you into overdrive.

“Oh? I think someone is too overconfident.” He remarks. You’ve noticed that there’s always something up his sleeve, something that he uses at the last minute to defeat you, but you’re getting better at recognising his patterns. And the way his deep voice becomes breathier, softer, akin to a snake’s sinister hiss, you understand that you’ve gotten under his skin. 

“You don’t think enough, Veritas, that’s your writing skills are bare bones and your papers hard to understand.” 

“Shut that mouth of yours.” He grits his teeth further, finally sitting on the edge of his desk and flipping over your paper. You let out a small laugh and sit at his chair. He looks down at you disapprovingly as you do so, but you pay no mind to the fact you’ve sat yourself down on his throne, because your paper will definitely take him down a peg or two. 

“In your bibliography, you spelt ‘accessed’ on your third source wrong.” He points out, taking a red pen from his desk and removing the cap with his teeth, circling the typo as you burn with humiliation. “Oh my, your spacing for the first page and last page are different. How irritating it must be for your readers to be accustomed to one layout and then switch to another.”

“It is just spacing, Veritas.”

“It’s more than that, dear, people like some organisation in their scientific papers. And your way of writing is chaotic! I should have known just by your handwriting and layout in sums.” He tuts, petting your head in faux pity just as you did to him seconds ago.  

“Read the damn paper, Dr. Ratio.” You grit your teeth, now irritated that you’ve dedicated hours and hours bashing him in the footnotes, researching just so he can get a taste of his own medicine, for you to be corrected on your formatting. 

“Patience.” There is something downright Dionysean about his voice, if it were a colour, it would be the seductive shade of red wine, and just as addictive. Addictive like the many times where you two have come too close for comfort, like the one time you two were locked in the storage closet together, and you felt his strong arms encase your body as he helped you push the door open from behind. Or this one time at a work event where he made fun of your table manners and swiped ice cream off of your lips to prove his point. It made you feel red hot, just like the colour of his voice, and the way he acts too hot around you, too excitable. And you wanted more. To make a man who is cold and reserved morph into a competitive beast  raring to go and one up you at every turn is no small feat. The dichotomy makes your head spin, and this side of him only you know wants to make you explore him more. And you know just from the way he cocks his head and slides off the desk, that he’s switching from sub-zero aloofness to scorching hot opposition. 

He grabs the arms of the chair you sit in to push it so far it hits the wall so you are cornered against the blackboard. 

“Actually.” He muses, tilting your head up and sliding your hair to one side. “I want you to read it.” He whispers, breath hot against your ear. “Read it, and I’ll give you,” he encircles your waist with one hand, “appropriate feedback.” 

He hands you the manuscript, and kisses your neck softly. His other hand, now free, unzips your skirt and you gasp as his fingers venture between your legs. 

“Start reading. You’re good at running your mouth, aren’t you? Let’s see how long that attitude lasts…”

[ivystoryweaver]

With You part 5

<-prev next-> || Fic Masterlist || My Masterlist

Summary: Jake tries to fall asleep beside you, Steven is there to adore you in the morning and Marc is still struggling. What happens when Jake breaks his lifelong silence?

Pairings: Jake Lockley x reader, Steven Grant x reader, Marc Spector x reader. Gender neutral reader. No use of Y/N. Reader is engaged to Marc and Steven.

Word Count: 4.7k

Warnings/notables: Fluff, longing, complicated relationship stuff. Angst. References to past abuse. Struggles with addiction/alcoholism and its effects. Probably inaccurate description of addiction. self-worth probs. Violence is mentioned. kissing and touching, implied sex but no smut, nothing explicit or gender-specific. Let me know if I missed a warning. inaccurate DID, based on the show. Not beta'd we die like arthur harrow in the back of jake's car

Dividers by saradika

PREVIOUSLY, on “With You”...

Oh, he liked the idea of getting under your skin. He liked it a lot. 

“Really?” He teased. “You mean you don’t scare the shit out them in the middle of the night? Follow them around? Drive them crazy...wearing that?” He threw your words back at you. 

What a little shit. 

“No,” you steadily answered him, your gaze open and honest. “I guess I’m just here to drive you crazy.” 

With little convincing, Jake got ready for bed, so he could join you in finally getting some rest. Your 3am alarm went off as he was washing up, so you silenced the one for 4:00.

Conveniently it was your day off, so no other alarm was set. Steven did have one class mid-day, but otherwise, also had the day off.

As Jake slid under the covers, you reached to turn off the bedside lamp. Then you were left in the same position you found yourself in that first night.

The night he held your hand.

Remembering what you'd whispered to him in the dark that night, you softly uttered, "I'm glad you came back to me, Jake."

"I'll always come back to you," he swiftly replied, his voice the softest you'd ever heard it.

Slowly, you reached for him, resting your hand over his. He immediately slid his fingers through yours, just like the first night, and whispered goodnight.

Jake always came home while you were asleep, and he didn't even front every day. Usually he was only there when Khonshu bid him take to the nighttime alleyways and rooftops, or when Marc and Steven were in an exorbitant amount of danger...

...which was unfortunately more often than either of them (or you) were aware. Marc had a long and colorful past, in which he'd made many enemies - some of them, through no fault of his.

Abused, with an undiagnosed disorder, there were sections of his life missing, and problems he just couldn't control. That, combined with blackouts from drinking and a mighty temper, when provoked, had left a trail of...unfortunate mishaps. And pissed off former associates and enemies.

Time eased many grievances, and Marc had handled several problems on his own, years ago. But even after Jake himself had dispensed with Arthur Harrow, there still lingered fingers of his network. And those weren't the only problems.

Just last week, Jake had disposed of a man who had followed you home from work two nights in a row. He simply watched the first night, choosing restraint, but after he saw the mysterious man following you a little too closely the second night, well - that man did not live to see a third.

At first, Jake wondered how Marc could be so naive. He expected that more from Steven. Well, not naivety, exactly, but a general "chin up" outlook on life that the he radiated.

Steven, although far more direct, outspoken and cautious than most people gave him credit for, was an overall ray of sunshine. In protecting the system, Jake wasn't just protecting his own body, or Marc, who he had known since his youth, he was protecting Steven - the one Marc simply could not do without.

And Jake supposed that's what it all came down to. Marc had settled into a beautiful domesticity with both you and Steven. And maybe that was why Marc couldn't perceive the danger you were all in.

Jake was happy to keep it that way. If Marc was not only safe, but thriving, if Steven was growing and learning, putting his beautiful mind to work, and the two of them had someone they loved? Then Jake had done his job. As long he stayed on top of things, it could all work out.

But the drinking relapse was a problem. And he hadn't counted on you meeting him.

Jake had often wondered how Marc and Steven - for lack of a better word - shared you. He wondered if they ever got jealous. Or if you ever showed any preference for one over the other. That's why he thought it best to stay out of it. Not only did he hope to keep his head down and do his job, he was concerned that getting mixed up with you would only confuse him.

That all went right to hell when he carelessly barreled into your bedroom the other night, having forgotten to have Marc or Steven check in with you earlier, or go to bed beside you. He was equally panicked and wonderfully elated for this mishap.

And now, as your soft breathing slowed, he tried to pretend this night was like every other time he'd slipped through the window to find you asleep.

But it wasn't and he couldn't.

He wished you were still awake. He wished he had more time to hear your voice, to watch the flurry of you around the room, picking up his things, worrying after him. Squeezing his eyes shut, he remembered the press of your body against his - the soft satin hugging your shape.

Shit. He could use a cigarette. Or maybe he could beat the hell out of someone.

It was difficult to blow off steam when Marc - a.k.a. their body - couldn't drink and with Marc and Steven engaged to you. Jake tried to respect that. He had the right to his own life, sure, but he just couldn't bring himself to "blow off steam" in that way since you got engaged. You weren't his, but he was faithful to you anyway.

As if sensing his irritation in your sleep, you rolled over, burying your face into his shoulder, snuggling up to him comfortably.

Jake was walking a very fine line between soothed and riled up. If your leg made its way across his thigh, he was going to lose his shit.

Only a few hours later, as the sun struggled to climb into a gray sky, you woke up, tangled in someone. Wondering who might greet you each morning always brought the tiniest smile to your face, but on this morning, just for a moment, you wondered if it was Jake.

Your body stiffened. Did you sleep like this for the past few hours? Did it bother him? You hadn't ever thought of what you might do in the night when Jake got home from his escapades.

As the man beside you continued to breathe evenly, in and out, you decided that three hours of sleep was definitely not enough.

Hours later, you awoke to the domestic sounds of the kitchen. You smelled cooked food and heard the sink's water running, along with the clang of a pot or saucepan.

The sun had made its way through the morning fog, and a sliver of it poured through the crack between the drawn drapes and the window.

After stretching like a very satisfied cat, you freshened up in the bathroom and headed back to your closet to decide what to wear for your day off.

Steven was waiting for you on your bed, perched on the edge.

"Morning, my love," he hummed cheerily, his eyes raking down your body appreciatively. "See you've got on those nice satin pajamas I gave you."

Glancing down at yourself, you softly smiled. "Indeed."

"You're so bloody lovely," he breathed, eyes darkening as he reached out his hand to beckon you back to bed.

Feeling absolutely adored and a little frisky, you skittered over, ready to pounce, when he held up two hands to stop you.

"Careful, darling, I've made you breakfast. Or brunch, rather. It's eleven o'clock," he laughed, nodding toward the tray sitting in the middle of the bed.

Eyes wide, you beamed - but it didn't stop you from climbing onto his lap, just...carefully.

"You are an angel." Locking your arms behind his neck, you dragged your hips forward until you were flush against his body. Rubbing your nose against his, you giggled as he chased after your lips.

"Feeling cheeky this morning, are we?" he tutted after trying and failing to kiss you a few times. "Come here, you." Gently gripping your face in one hand, he opened his mouth hotly over yours. Sucking your lips one at a time, he teased you right back, easing one strong arm around your back. His forearm flexed, holding you firmly as he thrust up against you.

"Steven," you gasped, shifting in his lap to feel him just where you wanted him. Licking into his mouth, you pushed your fingers into his curls, tugging just hard enough for him to jerk deliciously against you again.

The two of you went on that way until he laid back on the bed, pulling you on top of him.

"Steven, Steven, wait--"

Too late. The tray carrying your breakfast spilled all over the bed, some of the jam-covered toast landing on Steven's adorably oversized sleeve.

"Shit, I'm so sorry." Scurrying off the bed, you rapidly gathered up the mess, hands bumping into Steven's as he struggled to help you.

"Thank goodness I've left the tea on the table then, yeah?"

You burst out laughing.

You and Steven cleaned up the bed, finished breakfast (at the table) and dressed in cozy clothes for a day off together. Steven decided missing one class wouldn't hurt anything, since he had high marks in every course.

"Thank you for taking care of me this morning, my love," you sighed contentedly, draping your legs across his lap as you relaxed on the couch. "I noticed you pulled the drapes closed so I could sleep in."

"Oh...must've been Marc, I s'ppose," he mused, rubbing up and down your leg. "Wasn't me."

"Oh, okay. But it was you that cleaned up the broken bottle the other morning, right? Before I woke up and made breakfast for Marc?"

Steven's head whipped around so fast. "Sorry, what? Marc broke a bottle? Darling--"

"It wasn't like that, I promise. It was an accident," you soothed. Reaching for his hand, you squeezed it gently, forgetting, in that moment, who could have cleaned up the bottle.

"Everything's a bit odd lately, innit?" He spoke up after a few moments. "Khonshu scaring the life out of Marc like that, deceivin' us both. Bloody stupid pigeon."

"I'm sorry, baby." You felt a shade guilty having talked to Jake twice when Marc and Steven had yet to even meet him.

"Not your fault, love. The old bird's the one to blame. Him and this other mysterious bloke I've got up here." He tapped one finger to his forehead.

"Jake, you mean." You eyed him cautiously. Feeling like you hadn't seen Steven as much for the past few days, you felt the need to confess - catch him up. "I talked to him again last night. Did Marc tell you we'd met?"

Dark eyes cut over to yours - unreadable - a rarity in your warm and open Steven. "Didn't have to. Spoke to him myself."

You gasped a little dramatically. "Y-you talked to Jake? He talked to you?"

"A bit, yeah," Steven sighed. "A bit. Might have told us we were still entangled with Khonshu so Marc didn't have to wake up in an alley like that. It's no bloody wonder he's had a rough go of it."

Gently rubbing your thumb over his knuckles, you inched a little closer to him on the couch. "So...you're angry with him then. With Jake."

Shaking his head, Steven's gaze dropped. "He's got his own life I s'ppose. Rather used to the way things are with Marc, is all."

"Must be hard, sweetheart," you sweetly sympathized, wishing you could fix any and everything for these men you loved.

"Not your fault," he softly repeated, reaching up to caress your cheek. "He does seem a bit taken with you, though."

Oh god.

"R-really," you squeaked. "Jake said that?"

"Not exactly, but...I gathered," Steven mused, his fingers trailing down over your throat to rest along your collarbone, which he traced carefully. "Made me wonder if you'd worn that lovely satin for him, if I'm honest."

You gulped. "Well...not for him, exactly. I did want to talk to him in a little more than Marc's t-shirt. I want answers too."

The corner of his mouth turned slightly upward, reminding you of Jake. "You're a vision in anything, darling - bare legs and t-shirt, or black satin. I certainly understand why he fancies you."

You skin heated up as you tried to decide how to respond.

And just like Jake the previous night, Steven seemed to enjoy you flustered like this. Giving you a devilish smile, he trailed his fingers down your arm.

"Steven...you're my fiancé," you finally managed, a little breathless. "Jake and I have only spoken twice. It will take a little more than crawling in the window at night to get to know one another."

Nodding, Steven asked, "But you would...like to get to know him?"

"Of course I would," you instantly answered, as if it were obvious. "Of course I want to know someone in our lives like this - part of you and Marc, and...honestly, someone who has you all out at night doing god knows what."

Reaching for your fiancé, you wrapped your arms around his neck. "Besides, I doubt Jake said he fancies me," you chuckled. "Doesn't really sound like him."

"Ohhh, it doesn't, does it?" Steven laughed out. Studying you closely, he added, "Would you like to know what he really said? 'Bout you?"

Spellbound, you nodded as Steven leaned in close. "I'm not going to tell you. That's between you two. But I will tell you what I think, if you care to know."

Climbing across his lap, you touched your forehead to his. "As long as it's something good, baby."

"Oh it is," he breathed against your mouth.

He never told you. But you did finish what you'd started in the bedroom.

After all the recent late night activities, plus a vigorous couple of rounds in bed with Steven, your sated bodies drifted off to sleep...

...which inevitably led to you waking up from your nap, wondering who would be greeting you. The flat was quiet and you were alone.

Feeling a little more relaxed and rested than you had felt in days, you found the clothes Steven had yanked off your body just a couple hours before. You didn't want to waste one more second of your shared day off by sleeping.

After checking the bathroom and the living room, you finally found a note in the kitchen from Marc.

On the roof. - M

Finding some shoes and Marc's tan hoodie, you grabbed your phone, realizing Marc had sent you the same message via text, just in case.

A few minutes later, you made your way out to enjoy the chilly but decently sunny day. A rare treat indeed.

"Hey there," you sweetly greeted, walking up beside Marc, purposely bumping your shoulder against his. "Where's your jacket? It's cold."

He glanced over at you, smirking. "You're wearing the one I like. Looks better on you anyway."

Even though Marc was a little taller than you were, you wrapped your arm around his shoulders as if it might warm him up.

"What are you doing?" He chuckled, already a bit cheered up by your presence.

"I'm protecting you. Like I said, it's cold."

Glancing down at you, he shook his head, amused, while his heart flared with adoration. You were always taking care of him in one way or another. He could never deserve you.

"Come here," he whispered, pulling you into his arms, folding you close. "There, now I'm warm."

"Good," you returned, nuzzling into his neck.

He held you in silence for a few minutes, rubbing up and down your back lovingly.

From what little you knew of Jake, you were fairly certain that Marc was the quietest of his alters. It was nice sometimes, to just be together in contented stillness.

But unlike Jake, there was no one in the world you knew better than Marc. And he was neither content, nor prone to remain still for much longer. Itching to prod about what troubled him, you waited longer still. You had learned to wait him out and he had learned to trust you...confide in you.

"I, uh..." he cleared his throat, breaking the silence after a while. "I came up here because I was thinking about...having a drink."

Oh.

Releasing you, as you knew he would after an admission like that, he folded his well defined arms over his chest. "Sorry." He stared out over the city, wondering what you would think of him - of how he kept letting you down.

Matching his pose, you gave him just enough space to confess, while keeping close enough to ground him.

"Sorry for what?"

Huffing out an irritable sigh, he frowned. "You know what. Sorry for wanting to. For...fucking everything up, for letting you down."

"I see," you softly returned. "Is that all?"

Turning his head, he started at you. "Is that not enough? You need a longer list?"

"No," you shrugged, keeping your gaze fixed on the cityscape. "Just asking if there's anything else you're trying to punish yourself for today."

"There's a never-ending, extremely long fucking list," he huffed, rolling his eyes. "Where do I even begin?"

Turning your body to face him, you waited a moment for him to calm down. "How about we start with what brought you up here today? Did something happen? Did you talk to Steven? Or Jake? Or maybe Addiction is just being the annoying bitch that Addiction is?"

You could see that he was already relieved to have you facing him, engaging with him. Marc could fight with the empty, thin air if he wanted to, because the person he fought hardest with was himself.

"I did...talk to Jake," he finally confessed, shifting uncomfortably from foot to foot. "He, uh...he actually apologized...for what happened in the alley, with Khonshu."

"Okay," you slowly nodded, your heart rate doubling at the thought of Marc and Jake interacting. "And how did that make you feel?"

"Like an idiot," he huffed, pushing a hand through his hair. "I should have known that Khonshu would never leave us alone." His hands landed on his hips - a trademark Marc-is-annoyed stance. "I should have known it wasn't safe, especially for you."

"What does that mean?" you hesitantly questioned. Surely he didn't mean he was unsafe for you, or Jake was... You started to worry for just a moment, that he would try to do one of those stupid 'you're safer without me' speeches that superheroes were always doing in films.

Like hell. Khonshu could shove his bony beak right up his bony ass. He was not fucking with your engagement, or your life.

Seeing your distress, Marc reached for your shoulders. "Jake saved your life last week," he explained. "Someone was following you home from work."

"He...what?" You gasped. "Who? Jake told you this?"

"Don't know who," Marc replied, his jaw clenching in fury at the thought of anyone even noticing you, let alone trying to stalk you. And to think he had no idea - no inkling that you were in danger... it was unbearable. "Doesn't matter. He's gone now. I just can't believe I let that happen to you and I didn't even realize..."

Releasing you, he paced a few steps away, and back again. Back and forth, punishing himself. For not perceiving that danger still followed him around - followed you. For not being the one to save you. For not recognizing someone else was in his mind, in their body. For being the absolute most useless and pointless of his alters. For all these things compiling and making him want to drown it all at the bottom of a bottle. For being a worthless alcoholic. For being like her...

Marc was the walking embodiment of the phrase, 'that escalated quickly...'

You knew it was bad once he stopped pacing and dug the heels of his hands into his forehead. Steven would probably be joining you momentarily. Or maybe Jake.

"Marc?" You softly called, gently reaching for his wrists to stop him hitting himself in the head. You didn't pull or try to halt his motion, you simply allowed your fingers to circle his wrists. As soon as he realized that his banging motion was jerking your arms too, he stopped, allowing you to hold onto his wrists, rubbing your thumbs carefully over his skin.

"There you are," you soothed, granting him the most gentle smile and pulling his hands down to his chest. "I think you kept this conversation going without me. Probably started telling yourself a whole lot of bullshit...does that sound about right?"

Sometimes you would undercut the most dramatic of his meltdowns with deceptively gentle sarcasm. It always seemed to disarm Marc - your comments showed him your tenderheartedness rather than your slight teasing feeling like mockery. You truly had a gift for it.

You didn't wait for his verbal answer. His silence was compliance. You kept hold of his wrists, there against his chest, and tried to fill in the blanks.

"I'm guessing you're blaming yourself for not knowing everything that's ever going to happen, for not predicting the future, for not knowing every corner of your mind, and for being afflicted with an addiction. Am I close?"

His jaw clenched, this time in anguish, rather than fury.

"You don't...you don't have to do this," he choked, avoiding your gaze. "You shouldn't have to do this."

"Like I hell I shouldn't," you shot back. "I marrying you in 52 days. And on that day, I'm going to vow to love you for better or for worse, in sickness and in health - you know the rest. This is exactly what I should be doing."

"I'm sorry," he brokenly whispered. "I'm sorry I'm like this. I hate it. I hate..."

"What are you like, sweetheart? How is it that you think you should be?"

Marc shook his head, his eyebrows pinched with worry. "I-I don't even have a job or go to school, or always make you smile or feel better, like Steven. I can't even protect you, like Jake. I have nothing to give you. I can't think of one reason to even--"

"Don't you dare," you warned. "Don't you dare compare yourself to them - they are a part of you." Releasing a shaky sigh, you realized then how bad things must have gotten for Marc before he ever even picked up a bottle.

This was deeper than one encounter with Khonshu. He was calling his whole self-worth into question, comparing himself to Steven and now Jake. He hadn't failed you. Maybe you had failed him.

"Look, I don't claim to be any kind of an expert on addiction or DID or marriage," you explained to him. "I only know what I know. When Jake saved my life, you were there. You are a part of him. And-and Steven - his amazing mind is your mind too. This addiction you have - they all have it! I understand you are distinct people, and I respect that. And I don't pretend to know what you're going through or what it feels like to be you, but baby..."

Squeezing his hands, you peered up at him pleadingly. "You were my first love. I knew you first. I loved you first. You are the reason I'm here. And Steven. And Jake. We all love you, Marc and we need you. We're with you. Who else is going to help Steven remember to do his homework? Or make my coffee the way I like it? Or fix the sink every time it leaks?

"Who is going to make me feel like the most special person in the world, make me laugh, make me the best toast for breakfast--"

"Uh, that would be Steven," Marc admitted, his voice softening. "Steven does those things for you."

Thinking back through what you'd just said, you nodded. "True. He does make better toast than you but his coffee-making skills are shit."

Marc cracked a smile. Just a tiny one.

"And you do make me laugh. And make me feel special. Why do you think Steven is the only one who does that?"

"Because...I don't know, because he's so good at it," Marc shrugged, calming down a little more. Your candor was somehow soothing because he never had to wonder where he stood with you.

"Baby, where do you think he gets that from?" You stared at him pointedly, waiting for him to get it. "How many years did you try to protect him, to keep him safe?"

"Yeah, but I fucked that up too," he argued. "He was pissed when he found out about me, remember I told you that."

"Only a first," you reminded him. "But since then, you're literally his best friend. You keep him grounded. And I know it's true for Jake too. You're his moral center."

"Really," Marc scoffed, "then he's fucked."

You rolled your eyes. "You are. From what little I know of Jake, he doesn't seem all that bothered by violence... by doing whatever he feels he needs to do, for you or for Khonshu. Don't you see?"

Marc shook his head.

"When you have to use violence, you hate it, because it was used on you. You've agonized over the lives you've taken, because you value life. What is more morally centered than that?"

Finally releasing your hands, Marc rubbed his face with a long sigh. "I told myself I wasn't going to do this to you. That I was just going to go to a meeting and talk to you after. But...but I thought if I left to go to a meeting that I might stop by the store and there would be a drink, you know, just waiting..."

His hands found their way back to his hips. "What do I do?" He gazed at you as if everything in the world hanged on your answer.

"This," you said confidently. "You take a beat...take a breath, talk to me. Exactly this, baby. Everything you need to be doing, you are doing right now: admitting you're tempted to drink, stopping and thinking first, going to meetings..."

You counted his victories off on your fingers, "Using your support systems, being honest about your feelings, even the really fucking hard ones. This is exactly what you do, Marc. You are literally my hero."

Completely taken aback, his lip trembled. "W-what? No...I-I'm not."

Folding your arms over your chest, you narrowed your eyes, waiting a beat.

"You're not? Shit. I must have been thinking of someone else then." Cracking a grin, you inched toward him slowly. "You're so damn stubborn, Marc Spector, but you have met your match. Game fucking on."

Reaching for his wrists, still planted defiantly on his hips, you pulled his hands into yours. "Now, is there anything I can do to make you feel better today? I could walk you to your meeting? Or fix you some matzah ball soup? I've been practicinggg," you sang, a little playfully.

Sometimes acting like a dork really cheered up your grumpy fiancé. Maybe it would work.

"Please, god no," Marc laughed out, "it was more like matzah meal sludge. I think I could have built a sandcastle with it."

Giggling, you released his hands, sliding your arms around his torso. "Okay, fair enough. Maybe we'll do something else then."

"Yeah, like what?" He shot back, some of the tension finally draining out of his tense body as he wrapped his arms around your back.

"How about a massage?" You suggested. "You love it when I play with your hair. You could lie down on my lap, relax..."

"You're just trying to get my head between your legs, aren't you?" Marc chuckled, narrowing his eyes.

You smiled innocently up at him. "Always."

"Come on, it's freezing out here," he laughed, guiding you back toward the doorway with his arm around your shoulders.

"Still feel like a drink?" You asked, your candor never ceasing to amaze him.

"Only if you make me eat your matzah ball soup," he teased.

Just him joking was a good thing. And he probably would have you walk him to a meeting later in the day. One step at a time.

"You're really doing it, you know? I'm really proud of you," you sweetly affirmed as the two of you made your way back down to your flat.

"Thank you," Marc evenly answered, after a long silence. He hadn't really been sure how to reply until the two of you were back inside your living room. "For everything."

"One day at a time, my love. Today, you're doing it. You're doing everything right."

Wondering what he would ever do without you, Marc pulled you close, gently swaying with you in the silence of your flat. He had always felt so hard to love - his childhood had made sure of that. But you loved him hard.

@stormydaysxx laaundromat @kindlover @spxctorsslxt @deezisnotreal

@rivalriotrenegade @wordacadabra this--is--music @i-still-dont-like-your-face 

idk if all the tags work. I tried!

[idontknowreallyidontcare]

Ayyy! Nikto appreciation squad let's go! Imagine the reader being so down bad for him too they're absolute nightmares to have on base because you can't pull them apart or they'll get hostile?

(HOES)TILITY WITH NIKTO FOR MY GIRLS

It’s actually funny how between every man you could’ve possibly had you ended up with a traumatized, masked, militar with OCD and personality disorders. He’s so dreamy isn’t he? Was this some kind of a joke destiny decided to pull on you? You didn’t really care to be fair, you loved this man and so did he. One thing you both had in common was the way you both were so down bad for each other, it was actually borderline embarrassing.

And let’s not talk about how you’d both get when your 3 hours of making out and rubbing against each other in a small room on base was being interrupted by a poor recruit who just happend to need a mop from the catchall.

Or when Krueger would get mad at Nikto for spending his lunch break somewhere with you instead of staying with him and the other guys.

You being one of the few females on base was a bit of a disadvantage so Nikto always made sure to spend as much time as possible with you, so you would not get lonely. The guys always had something to say about it, but in the long run they just got used to it and rested the case. He was staying with you and nothing could change his mind. Especially since he’d be getting to fuck you somewhere on base, and nothing could top that.

It was disgusting how you both were always so physical and disrespectful of your surroundings. Nikto was known to be crazy so shame was not something he ever struggled with, but for you to be equally provocative was another thing.

Somehow that’s how you both were, you really found each other, and you were both equally in love, equally as crazy for each other.

It took König hundreds of threats, 3 physical interventions and who know what else to actually get you and Nikto to STOP scaring off recruits just for fun. And not because your ideas of scaring them were some lame pranks or some stupid jokes, no, because your ideas of scaring them off were to be disgusting and embarrassing, from making out in front of some poor recruit who just wanted to go take a nap in his barracks after a hard day of training, to you both completely acting like hoes just for fun.

You’d be grabbing Niktos cock thru his pants, saying the nastiest things, and he’d keep up with your game acting just as nasty.

Poor recruits are traumatized just by hearing or seeing you both together, because you’re never up to no good, and they always fear for their mental health.

[briefpeachdinosaur]

Being in a relationship with Vanitas

anime/manga Vanitas no carte

headcanons on this drama queen and a nsfr part but I put a Warning there too.

He is SO dramatic I love it cuz I'm dramatic ( I would LOVE to date him )

Please ignore the grama mistakes

•he loves to kiss you anywhere honestly

•lips, hands, cheeks, shoulder or neck he is in for all of it

• suprise kisses to get your attention

•do this all on him he will blush so hard and easly

•It's easy to get him blush

•He loves to see how embarrassed you are after you make out with him.

•Like really, he loves the view of your cheeks being tomato Red and breathless because of him ( remember how he looked at Jeanne after he kissed her?)

• if your easy to blush then rip he will take advantage of it

•or if you laugh easly when he tickels you

•he LOVES to have you on his lap he thinks you belonge there

•he also has full control to tickel you or bite/kiss your neck or shoulder

Anyways uhm-

•he is into PDA he always has his arm on your hip, waist, shoulder, hand in Hand or Arm in Arm or press your wrist a little to make you blush...

•He really couldn't care less what anyone thinks tbh

• he is also a polite and respectful King, if your not into PDA he won't push you.

•If you wear glasses or smt rip part 2. He will take your glasses hold them up with a smug smile, where you can't reach them only to make you cling on him to get them ( step on his foot to make you become taller or try to cling like idk what on him to get them) only for him to kiss you on the lips in the end and putting them on you.

• he gives you so many nicknames just to annoy you, he is a trasing bitch but he also loves your name or how you say his Name so he dosen't really want a nickname because he likes the way you say his Name with your shooting voice that sends shivers down his spine because It's like honey, in his ears your voice is sugar sweet.

•he was not very happy to be in acuall love.

• his reaction to him acually being in love with Jeanne was the one he got when he realised he was in love and not had a simple crush on you

•the answer to why is simpel, it's because this guy has many walls around him, I don't really think he likes himself and he has a plethora of personality disorders and there mostly control related bc of the trauma he has and It's not like he dosen't get himself but he dosen't get himself enough.

• It's not suprising honestly, he lost his mother in child birth but it didn't start there it was when he lost his father and friends. I don't think he ever thought something this drastic would happend ( I mean who does that) and not to mention the story of what that crazy ass doctor did to him.

•before he understood the true meaning of love he also liked the control he had over you ( or that what he thought he had over you) cuz your not someone who let's themselfs be controled or just changes for this guy.

• he thought he knew you but you always had something under your sleev up and you began to fall and fall for you.

•I mean how could he not?

•in the beginning he still had his walls around him that made it hard for you to understand him fully

• you don't only Deal with an intelligence, teasing or playful doctor but also with the hurted man he is.

•Remember, he has been through so much, he has trust issues, he literlly dosen't trust anyone ( me too lol)

• He is also scared of losing people close to him, thats why he didn't wanted to be togehter with you and didn't wanted to let you in, in the first place and acually was like "yeah that can't be!" Bc he was scared he lose you

•not to mention he likes to have it in his control so letting go of that was very hard but he knew he had to, to make this work.

•when he realised he is in love with you like, Serously in love he goes through all the stages of denial

•(remember how he reacted when he was in acuall love with Jeanne?)

•he was super shy after that and wanted to not see you cuz he was also very nervous... and scared and didn't know how to act around you anymore

• he thought he was sick and about to die LOL HAHAH

• spoiler: you guys still got togehter LMAFO

•in the beginning of the relationship he was not so shy anymore but still he sometimes got a bit tensed up when you touched him... or just being near him... or being in the same room as him haha

•he got used to it and was then his normal teasing self again after some time but he was more gentle with you, more thoughtful and he droped the act or more likely droped his Maske that he wore around everybody little by little more and more

•being completly vulnerbul was hard for him and it took a lot of time for him so you have to be Patient.

•you have to communicat that he has to tell you stuff about his Plans because he always keeps it to himself and that he can trust you

•This little shit will try to make you leave him

•not only for him but also because of you, he dosen't want to lose you or that you be in danger only because of him

•but your more stubborn then he is and he is secretly thankful that you stay

• you have to communicat that you choose to go with him and face the danger that comes with his job

• he might be silence after that so you say somethink like " Vanitas say something please"

• He understands and knows that a healthy relationship is not only about loving the other person but also about not controlling it, trusting them, understanding them and communicating, being emotionaly and physicaly committed, being there for each one, listening to each other, being there in there lowest points, talking about problems and not being afraid to talk about them, opening up, respecting each other and sloving problems and that also includes having to open up or having unconfortable Talks to slove issues and so on.

•he does tell you more about Plans and even a little of himself but not everything at once. He Shows you more sides of him and acually likes having you around while on a Mission.

•your smart, absolutly Beautiful ( most beautiful person he had ever seen) and strong ( ok if you had no one to train you before he did or if your a human and not a Vampire your probally weaker them him cuz my man is STRONG AS HELL he just dosen't show it all the time, if your however stronger he thinks It's super hot)

•when he is ready to open up about really everything what happend to him then I think It's when he let's it all out, also the emotions he supressed. So be there for him and let him be vulnerable he really needs your comfort bc he has so much unhealed trauma.

•if he falls for someone he FALLS for them

•when he is at his lowest point be there for him.

• Vanitas does the same for you

• with him you don't need to be scared or ashamed about your past, mistakes, feelings or what happend to you, or what you want. He will be very understanding and comfort you the way you like it.

• He will be there for you and listen to you and hug you.

•if you need something like food he will get it to make you feel better.

• if you need space he will give it to you.

• Vanitas is good at cooking and he'll make your favorite food himself when no one does it. He can also clean and he himself is very clean too!

•He will be the one to make your wishes and wants come true, he promised you that.

• He likes it when you compliment him.

• just give him a lot of compliments, some will make him blush a lot too

•if you tease him about it he feels like he is mealting and dying at the same time and he looks like a tomato bc he is so embarrassed about it help-

•dates with him are either in the City and having a lot of fun togehter while you eat and look at all the great places with him.

• or a shopping date, I think he wants you to show him everything you want to buy or wear.

•he is also not afraid to pick something for you because he will buy you everything you want.

•he gives you compliments that are heartfull but he will also give you some to tease you and make you blush a lot.

•he loves to see you that way...

• if you ask him to explain why he likes this ans that about you He will give you a big big explenation about it and you will end up with more confidence and to love that part about you even if you didn't pay attention to it or disliked it before.

•He loves to get to know you more, he wants to know all of you like the back of his hand.

•he will buy you some Roses you want on the date or just randomly.

• expect gifts from him

• he loves how you react to his gifts and hos happy your are about them.

•loves how exited you get on dates or anything you like.

•loves talking to you and listening to you.

•he loves to take you on a date to a place that he found beautiful if It's a very fancy Restaurant that you wanted to go or a place he thought you liked, really anything.

•you guys have a lot of Talks at roof tops. At night when he is not in bed with you and you randomly wake up he is up there.

•you'll cuddle and Gaze at the sky or have deep talks/ random Talks

• He takes care of you and your relationship.

•being in a relationship with vanitas has his ups and downs like every relationship.

•not only is his job dangerous but also he himself can be very hard to Handel

•He is not only your boyfriend, he is also his own human being just like you so it will be hard

•but it will be worth in the end !!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~♡♡♡~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

This will have some smut in it so Minors do not interact ( I really don't care if your a minor just don't comment then everything is fine ig)

•Tbh a part of me thinks he is a Virgin..

•I don't know why, he seems expirienced with women in the sense of flirting (he is smooth) but also... his scars that he dosen't want anyone to see... but that dosen't mean he never had Sex with someone yk?

•the first time you did it he was super red in the face and nervous but you can decide to think if he took the lead or not I don't make the rules

•he was very gentle and sweet not wanting to hurt you ( or himself )

• He was slow and took his time knowing you have to get used to that feeling and that when he Puts it in it hurts in the beginning so he ask you if your doing okay or if he hurted you

•if you look hurt or made a noise that sounded painful then he will be very worried and ask if your okay

•if you where the one to slowly undress him oh boy-

•he was a tomato

•kiss one of his scars and he feels like his heart will mealt bc how can he deserve such a wonderful person like you???

•anyways I think he is a big switch

•he likes to be on top and hear your moans and see how embarrassed you get or how you want more of him

•if you scrach his back or arms the next day he sees them and acually blushes

•save to say that he loves them and he isn't ashamed to show them off or talk to you about how he loved it (Literlly)

•like he PROUD to have them

•he loves to go down on you and eat you out and might eveb stay a little longer there for the nice view and the noises you make or that he wants you to ask him to continue and give you more.

•his lips are mostly connected with your lips or body and if not his head might be on your shoulder or neck or he just watches you

•he loves the way your voice sounds when he makes you moan or how you say his Name.

•he loves to moan in your mouth or when you moan in his mouth

•might bite you a little

•if you do it on him he is this then 🍅🍅🍅🍅

•i think he can be a big tease too durning the act but he isn't mean or annoying but he wants to make you laugh and long for more

• he is totally in for trying something new if you want to

• if you have a secret kink he WILL try it with you and would be so happy to try it with you like- he is so down bad and has no problems showing it to you

•Save to say that you don't need to be ashamed bc of anything infront of this man he is literlly your save space and he knows your his save space.

• he promised to make all your wishes and dreams come true remember? That also includes when your having Sex with him.

•( i think he wants a friend who has a kink lol, bc the way he always ask everybody if they have a kink Shows it)

•sometimes when you do foreplay he will make you laugh

•you guys probally bump heads every now and then when you do it in a more fun and playful manner that night and laugh a lot.

• will tickel you bc he loves your laugh

•Sex is something that (like everything) needs time and practice and you will see what you like or dislike after time but you have to speake about your likes and dislikes.

• I think he likes someone who is into it just like he is, so if your not feeling it he won't feel it either.

•if however, I was wrong and he is not a Virgin (and you maybe also not a Virgin) then tell him what you like and dislike It's very Important to know what the other person is comfortable with.

•if your on top he is about to pass out cuz you?????? On top of him??!!??? It will leave him breathless and his heart will beat so fast he thinks he will pass out but happy ;)

•he will tell you how good you are and how your so beautiful (it dosen't matter if your on top of him or not he will give you these compliments)

•be it under him or on top of him It's the best view he ever saw in his life

•just imagine you on top of him and oh how your hips move so good again his...

•as your head is going up cuz of the pleasure you feel while he looks up to you and you look down on him again and meet his eyes

•both of you are a red and moaning mess

•he takes you hips in his skilled hands and is now in a sitting Position where your still on top of him and he is now even deeper into your body while your kiss and look at each one. Scrach his arm while moaning inside his mouth and he thinks he will pass out again bc how can he not?

• you guys kiss alot on the lips It's even better ! He thinks, with all the heat that was build up while you come togehter...

•Vanitas is a King of after care.

• He takes care of you after the act.

•like I said he takes care of you, your relationship and after you guys do it.

Okay thats it for now..

I hope you liked it!!!

[silly-little-gooses]

random tig headcanons pt.3!

I haven’t done these in a while, so let’s go!

~ all of the hawthorne brothers have dimples. jameson and xander’s are really prominent and nash’s are more subtle. grayson never smiles, so only a few people are sure about his.

~ avery hates dust jackets on books and takes them off every time. it doesn’t matter how pretty it is, it’s annoying.

~ part of nash’s personality is what I like to call “grandma nash”. he calls everyone ‘sweetheart’, he knows how to knit, he plays candy crush, he doesn’t know how to take a selfie, and his hearing isn’t great.

~ jameson loves dogs and always asks to pet a dog whenever he sees one. he’s not scared of any dog, big or small.

~ grayson likes to act all tough like he’s immune to everything but in reality, he has a bunch of allergies and is severely allergic to nuts, fish/shellfish, and blackberries. he’s also lactose intolerant.

~ max has an auditory processing disorder and can never hear what people are saying correctly. she’s the friend that asks ‘what?’ every time you say something.

~ while jameson loves to drink, avery hates the taste of alcohol and never drinks. she’s always the designated driver at parties and events.

~ jameson can do a bunch of crazy voice impressions - kermit the frog, elmo, kronk, and a bunch of other celebrities and cartoon characters.

~ when xander is in the sun for a long period of time, you can see that he has quite a lot of freckles and they’re so cute.

~ when the hawthorne brothers were little, tobias constructed a massive indoor playground for them to play on as kids. they still play on it as adults. ~ libby likes to do nash’s eyeliner, and god, does he look good

~ max cannot spell for her *life*. her texts to avery always look like gibberish and no one can tell what she’s trying to say.

~ grayson hated middle school pe but jameson was that one boy that was just a complete show-off. he could do a hundred push ups and sit ups, run the mile in five minutes, do the most laps on the pacer, etc. it made all the ladies swoon ofc.

~ oren is the KING of just dance, convince me otherwise. xander is a close second place.

~ avery is a ravenclaw, jameson is a gryffindor, nash is a hufflepuff, grayson is a slytherin, xander is a hufflepuff, max is a gryffindor, and libby is a hufflepuff!

that’s all I have for now, byeeee! <3

[mika-no-sekai-blog]

With the last breath IV

Word count: 1500+

Warnings: mentions of eating disorder

Part III || Part V

This week was a real rollercoaster full of bad luck. But since this chapter is ready I can post it. I'm working on the next one and I'd love to cut it somewhere to make it into two chapters, but can't find good place so it may come out as one really long one.

I'm sorry for any mistakes. English isn't my first language 😅

Several days passed since you woke up in Azriel's bed. You hid the dress soaked in his scent to the bottom of the wardrobe, often sitting down and burying face into the fabric. His scent helped you calm down and scare away bad dreams.

Since that day quite a lot had changed.

At first you thought you were crazy. Things were moving around or suddenly appearing in front of you. Repeatedly you saw movement out of the corner of your eye, but when you turned around, nobody was there. It took you some time to figure it out. But once you found out there were Azriel's shadows following you around, it didn't scare you anymore. They were quite handy especially when you needed to find something.

As it made you incredibly happy that he cared enough to keep an eye on you, it was also a reminder of the biggest mistake you'd ever done, making you feel down and your stomach twist at times.

The shadows followed you literally everywhere which was sometimes really uncomfortable. You were sure they informed him about everything you did on that particular day, but how much exactly did they tell him? It was nerve wrenching. You could only hope they would keep sensitive information to themselves.

Another big change was the shadowsinger himself. As soon as you entered the library he was there. No matter where you worked or how many times you had to move to another floor during the day, you always spotted him somewhere nearby reading book or doing some paperwork.

The first few days it made you nervous and you couldn't really concentrate on work. Even if you tried you wouldn't be able to count how many times you caught yourself staring at him, admiring his beautiful face, strong body, big hands.. and daydreaming. Then somehow you got used to his silent presence. It always made your day seeing him there, making you grin even while aligning and dusting the books.

And that wasn't everything. He often came to you to talk with you. At those moments your heart always started to beat much faster, mouth went dry and your palms started to sweat. It didn't give much sense because after the decades you could hardly call each other acquaintance, strangers more likely, but it was happening. You weren't in position to ask why suddenly he changed his mind so radically, nor you didn't even want to complain. You were happy for this change, giving you a faint hope that maybe.. someday.. you could be at least friends.

When it happened for the first time, you were so shocked you turned red like tomato to the roots of the hair and ran away. Next time you were mentally ready and managed to stutter few words. But you weren't the only one struggling. Azriel seemed to be just as nervous as you. Nevertheless he kept coming even several times a day for word or two. After few days both of you got used to it and were able to talk normally.

First, he would talk to you just about such ordinary things like weather or ask about your wellbeing, but soon enough he started to ask about your current life, past or likes and dislikes.

Lately you spent a lot of time discussing about the books you were reading. You were surprised to find out he read novels and often the ones you liked. He even gave you some recommendations for interesting ones.

You got up early as every morning and prepared for the day. Before leaving the room you checked out the weather and time. 'Should be okay now,' you thought to yourself and headed to the kitchen to make breakfast with few shadows at your heels.

Of course you could eat with other priestesses at dining hall the meal House served you, but there was something relaxing about making your own meal. That's why you always used inner circle's kitchen. But it wasn't the only reason. You didn't like people watching or commenting on how much you put on your plate. You even minded being watched while eating.

During the years living with Mor and Illyrian males here, you figured out their morning routines and knew when no one would be in the kitchen.

What a shock it was when you found out that the kitchen always empty at this time, was occupied. By Azriel!

He was standing behind the kitchen island putting scrambled eggs on the plate. There were already several other plates with toasts, bacon, cut fruits and vegetables set on the table.

He hadn't notice you yet, so there was still chance to get away and let him have his breakfast. You turned around, planing to try your luck later, but the shadows had an idea of their own. They slowly floated around you towards their master.

"Good morning," Azriel said while washing the pan in the sink, back turned to you. His voice was still raspy and that sound made your heart stutter and the heat spread in your lower belly.

"Good morning," you answered, taking a step into the kitchen from you hideaway. You frowned at traitorous shadows, but they just danced around calling you closer. "I'm sorry. I don't want to disturb you. I'll go." You wanted to leave quickly, but he stopped you.

"Would you join me for breakfast?" back still turned to you, he asked. Eyes widening you shifted nervously on your feet. It was too tempting, but it would be just the two of you. You really didn't want to have his full attention while eating. You bit your lower lip, fighting with yourself.

You looked at his strong form still washing already clean pan. You could read the tension in his posture, but you weren't sure what caused it. In the end the heart won the fight and you accepted the invitation. His tense shoulders visibly relaxed.

Azriel put the pan away and took two plates and glasses. As he turned to the table his lightly flushed cheeks came into view. With shiny eyes of hazel colour with golden flecks he smiled shyly at you which you returned. This side of him was new to you and you were more than eager to learn more. You'd never seen him behave like this with other females. A small flame of hope lit up in your chest.

Your heart was beating faster with each step you took towards the table. You halted before sitting down, examining food on plates. Suddenly you became nauseous. The food looked yummy and smelled amazing, but there was too much. Much more than two people could possibly eat.

"Is something wrong?" Azriel asked noticing your pale face. His eyes slightly narrowed.

"It looks amazing," you tried to smile. "Is Cassian coming too?"

"He's training with priestesses right now," Azriel tilted his head to the side with unreadable expression, few strands of dark hair falling into his eyes. "Do you want him to come?"

"No," you said quickly. "It's just.. there's so much food.." You felt the heat burning your cheeks.

"It should be enough for two of us," he said, a smirk tugged corners of his mouth upward. You had nothing to say to that, so you just swallowed hard and sat down. Azriel handed you plate and started filling his own. Following his example you took a piece of bacon and a bit of scrambled eggs.

"Would you like some freshly baked bread? It's from that new bakery on the bank of Sidra that opened last week," Azriel offered you. With nervous smirk you took small piece.

You started to eat. Taking the first bite of eggs you blinked in surprise, nervousness forgotten for awhile.

"It's so delicious. I didn't know you can cook so good,"you looked at him grinning. He blushed, but grinned too.

"I'm glad if you like it."

"I love it." You took another bite and then another. While you were eating Azriel kept offering you different goodies he'd prepared until you tried at least a piece of everything on the table. By the time you finished you were so full you thought you were going to burst. It was the most delicious food you'd ever eaten, but you were sure you won't be able to eat anything till next morning.

Azriel finished last bits and together you cleaned the table and washed dishes.

"Thank you for amazing meal," you said as you put last plate to its place.

"Thank you for keeping me company," he leaned against the counter putting his hands into the pockets of trousers. "Are you going to the library?"

"No, it's still too early. I thought I would return to my room and read for awhile."

"I see." His smile faded for a second, but it was back in a blink of eye. "So.. I guess I'll see you later."

With that you returned to your room thinking about his unusual behaviour and about the huge change that happened since he saved you. Even though it was still new to you and hard to believe, you liked it and hoped it's real. With every second you spent with him your heart swelled with love and you fell harder for him.

[jaytodd1129]

It's literally killing me that there's nothing on the Malcolm Reynolds & Simon Tam, Father-Son tags on AO3. BUT IT'S SUCH FERTILE LAND FOR FIC TO GROW THO!!

Are you TELLING me nobody else has unresolved daddy issues you'd like to work out through Simon being the stubborn but brilliant, overanalyzing, neurotic gotta-be-10-steps-ahead-cause-nobody-gives-a-shit-about-us doctor of the crew that is always on survival mode cause he quite LITERALLY was abandoned by his own father in his greatest moment of need? And not only that, REMEMBER WHEN JAYNE DOUBLE CROSSED HIM AND RIVER IN ARIEL?? and we all expected him to go bezerk or at least look betrayed?? But instead he was all cool calm and collected and YES that is in part because of his work ethic and because of Who He Is As A Person (not a person that abuses his position of power over someone more vulnerable).. but... what if it's also because.. he never expected anything different? Like.. just think about it. If his own DAD doesn't give a shit about him and River...who would? So maybe that's just him being kind of resigned too?? To something he accepted long ago. He doesn't have any of Mal's outrage, he doesn't have his ire, because unlike Mal, he never expected anything different.

Maybe that's also why he's unable to effectively bond with Kaylee despite having feelings for her. Cause it's been him and River against the world for so long in his mind, that every time his feelings try to cross that line towards Trust Territory, alarm bell start ringing in his head.

This is obviously gonna lead to Simon and Mal to butt heads because as Mal is captain of the ship, his position demands--you guessed it!-- TRUST from his crew. Trust that he'll lead the way somewhere safe, trust that he'll look after everyone with his decisions. And Simon..well he just can't do that (there's too much at stake).

And at first it just drives Mal crazy to the point he probably kicks the siblings to the curve a couple of times (like we saw in Firefly, like we saw in Serenity) not out of cruelty, but because he's never been one to keep someone who doesn't want to be kept (just ask Inara).

Speaking of Inara, maybe she's the voice of reason (as she tends to be) that eventually makes Mal see beyond Simon's insubordination, and see that he's not trying to be difficult, deep down he's just a kid, scared shitless, all alone in the world. But..he's not, says Mal. Sometimes that's just hard to feel for some people, shrugs Inara. At first, Malcolm protests against this like, I have too many responsabilities looking after this ship to care for the doctor's precious feelings, too! Inara throws her hands in the air like, This is why nobody ever talks to you about these things! Mal is offended at the implication that ANYONE in his crew keeps things from him, he squawks WHat things?!?..and it turns into the Mal&Inara regular show.

But it plants a SEED in Mal's head, see, and now every time Simon objects against something being done, instead of seeing some churlish display of disobedience, he sees the anxiety, the undercurrent of fear that is there.

Maybe he goes to Simon's quarters at one point and realizes he's hardly unpacked and he's like...shit. it's worse than I thought.

Feral Simon with daddy issues and an attachment disorder is what I want!!

[lesbians4armand]

on the technical side of things, maybe armand is intersex. he was often described as being beautiful like a girl! he couldve been born with a boys body but as he got older and hit puberty, perhaps he had a hormone disorder he didn't know about/coupled with sexual trauma/being turned he never really got to go through a full hrt puberty.

i know armand slept with numerous vampires in his coven, but he DOES have a tendency to not fuck human beings. maybe vampires CAN get pregnant, but they need a living counter part to make it work. immortal children are banned under vampire law, so i can see why female vampires aren't having children of their own (for fear of their child/them dying/the child being unable to progress physically or mentally) but wouldn't it just be like armand to be pregnant and not know until it's too late to do anything with?

or he gets pregnant and daniels the first to recognize the symptoms? the eating, the mood swings, how feral he's gotten during sex. i assume it would be jarring to wake up and find your vampire boyfriend projectile vomiting the 70 units of blood he gorged on 3 hours prior.

INTERSEX ARMAND!! YES!! The vampires of the vampire chronicles have always defied gender in its social ways but to have it completely blur binaries of biological sex is so so good, they already have so many differences to their biology and anatomy its not too much of a stretch.

And you’re right, armand is always described as being very androgynous, and bringing that along with his limited memories of his youth and the trauma that he went through, he could very well be intersex and not even realise it, though lack of memory or some other factor. I love exploration of Armand’s gender identity a lot due to his lack of self identity in general, I’ve considered genderfluid armand before and even transgender armand (t4t devils minion… real) but intersex is a new concept to me that’s super fascinating.

(shout out to that one fic where armand IS alice because he can literally change his gender and sex at will btw been thinking about that since i read it… very good very delicious very gender)

On logistics of vampire specific pregnancy, i also agree that one participant must be a living human, i doubt that vampires can get one another pregnant (both being dead things, as well as the law to not create vampire children). I think male vampires who do sleep with human women (cough cough, lestat) would be able to get them pregnant, and that human men can get vampires pregnant too. Someone has to be alive to create life in this scenario.

Who knows if these pregnancies would be entirely viable without specific requirements. Would the fetus need blood in-utero if half-vampire?? or is the baby just human as its created with living dna regardless? how does the vampire reproductive system work?? if their hearts still pump blood and their lungs still breathe, and their brains are still alive, their reproductive system may still be functioning even if other processes shut down? Iirc the VC universe later established that vampirism is kind of like a ghost-alien parasite infecting a dead human body but keeping some parts of it living. maybe this does include reproduction, I think all grounds of logic went out when we first got to aliens.

In the tv-show universe (in which im basing this crazy au), the vampires can have sex (though they could not in the books), so this implies a working reproductive system.

Anyway yeah! I think intersex Armand COULD be getting pregnant here. Admittedly I’m not super familiar with intersex people and how this would work but I’d love to learn more and it’s definitely a way of getting mpreg to work here. I think im too scared to commit to omegaverse so this is a very fun dynamic and solution.

On to the other parts of this ask as I have gone on a bit, Armand does seem the type to neglect his own wellbeing to the point he doesn’t realise he’s pregnant until months along when there is little to be done, but I also think he wouldn’t want anything to be done. He might not have very good experience or track record with children or kid-vampires (see claudia), but he would love the evidence of love from daniel. It’s a part of daniel and a part of him, I think he’d be obsessed with that, that they can bring something that is alive and good and both of them to the world.

The idea of daniel realising like “oh my vampire boyfriend is actually very strangely, almost like he’s ill, but vampires can’t get ill! It’s weird it’s like when Alice was pregnant with… Oh! oh that’s it. okay.”

thank you for the ask this was very interesting.

[circular-bircular]

“You can have DID without trauma!”

Vent art. Mod “Armageddon.” Tw for COCSA and general abuse.

You are a system. You have DID. You do not know this.

You go through 15 years, not knowing this — just existing in a haze, having such a bright childhood, one you grasp for later in the dark moments, trying desperately to hold onto it.

At 15, you realize, wait. I think something’s wrong. You realize you don’t feel like “yourself” — and even more alarming, you don’t know who “you” even are. You hear voices, suddenly, in your head. You find notes you clearly wrote, but it’s someone else’s handwriting, someone else’s words to “you.”

You just need to figure out who “you” is.

You go to your sexual abuser abusive romantic partner best friend because your abusive neglectful overbearing parents would never understand, or might be too worried about you. You ask them, “What’s wrong with me? I’m scared. I’m confused. I feel like I’m going to die.”

They smile. They want you, they need you to stay, and to stay you can’t be scared. “Don’t worry — that’s normal.”

You sigh in relief. Thank goodness. You’re fine. You’re okay. Nothing is wrong. The voices are just normal things everyone else experiences. The fun imaginative things in my head are normal. The fighting, screaming, sobbing, fear, need to run, need to love, need to help everyone while fully believing you’re about to get hit, or touched, or watched, always watched—

Don’t worry. That’s normal.

You are a system. You have DID. You do not know this.

You are 19. You’re not sure when that happened — isn’t time silly that way? You are normal. You were a bit “quirky” and “cringy” in high school, roleplaying a lot. You do not remember the voices in your head. You do not remember their names. You do not remember two entire years of high school, and you do not remember that you have forgotten.

You see a student presentation in class about a story, and how the main character could be read as having dissociative identity disorder. “The symptoms come from childhood trauma,” the student says, “but people don’t always remember their trauma.”

She describes the symptoms. You feel… weird. Why does that sound so familiar? So normal? You laugh a little and look around, expecting everyone else to be rolling their eyes at such an obvious observation. How ridiculous of psychologists to diagnose a very normal thing, right? But everyone else is nodding along, very interested, and the professor praises the student for her psychological lens, and “valuable research gathering on a rare disorder.”

You don’t remember going to your dorm, or the test you took that day online. The next thing you remember is not being “you” anymore, because “you” is locked in a room in your mind, and now you’re someone else, sobbing at the website you’ve pulled up. It’s about dissociative identity disorder.

You’re not you. You’re someone else.

You go to your best friend. You tell them everything at 4am, sobbing because you don’t know what to do anymore, and you’re scared, because you don’t know who you are.

“You’re not crazy. This isn’t normal, but you aren’t crazy. I believe you.”

You breathe for the first time in years months weeks days.

You are 19. You have DID. You think.

There’s only one problem; you don’t have trauma. You do. It’s there. They hurt you so much, you idiot, why can’t you hear the voices screaming that at you? So what on earth are you experiencing?

You try to research it. All you have is a DSM-III and resources on multiple personality disorder. And, of course, tumblr — your home away from home.

You find a war happening. People with trauma versus people who say they have none. They all seem to hear voices, and many are angry and struggling and confused, just like you. You must be like these “plurals” you’ve seen. The ones without trauma but with DID. That’s not what that was, and you know that now, but it’s was so hard to tell back then.

You join them. “I have DID,” you say, “but I don’t have trauma.”

“That’s okay!” They tell you. “You can have DID without trauma.”

What a relief. You’re normal. You’re fine. You’re not like those anti-endos, you’re told. “They medicalize their systems,” you’re told, “and their therapists are abusing them.” You feel so bad for those poor systems. They’re not like you; you’re fine. You’re normal. Unlike them.

You try to avoid the traumatized ones, but you see so many of them getting angry. They keep yelling about these people who don’t have trauma, who are “appropriating a disorder” — that same disorder you clearly have, but you don’t have trauma.

You crash your car while dissociating so hard that you hallucinate your parts headmates around you. And you are happy, because at least you have a family to take care of you. Isn't it so nice to see your parts headmates in real life?

You're normal. It's okay. You don't have trauma. You don't need trauma to be a system, and you love being a system. No you DON'T, the parts scream, you're dreaming! Wake up! Wake up, please, god, don't let that woman hug you, don't you know what she did--

You keep moving on.

Then you see the arguments that spark something in you. “You need trauma, but the age range is wider than you’d think.”

Your sexual abuser abusive romantic partner best friend from high school. There’d been that time you fell out with her. That time you blew up at her because she’d kissed you in public, blamed you for teasing her too much. You realize how little you remember.

What else have you forgotten?

“I have trauma but it’s well past the age range,” you say to an anti-endo, knowing you shouldn't have spoken to them, because everyone tells you not to -- but none of them are traumatized, and this person is. “What’s wrong with people having this disorder without trauma?”

“There’s decades of research on this,” you’re told. “It sounds like you do have trauma. Consider that you might have some you don’t remember. Otherwise, you don’t have DID.”

You are 19. You have DID, you know it. You ignore this person. “These other people told me I don’t need trauma. You’re just gatekeeping. You’re just wrong. I’m not traumatized. I’m not like you. I’m better.”

You go to the ones who comforted you, listened to you, manipulated you. "I have trauma, I think, but it's past the age those anti-endos talk about, how ridiculous are they?"

"I'm so proud of you for standing up to those sysmeds! A lot of us have been traumatized because of how people treat our system. I'm sorry those anti-endos traumatized you."

"Well, it wasn't them -- but you're right. Anti-endos are traumatizing. They've traumatized me."

You believe the lie you spread, because they spread it first, and it sounds right. You do not mention that you learned you were sexually assaulted by a peer as a child. That would just be trauma dumping, and that would make you no better than a sysmed.

You are 19. You’re “cured” of your DID, because the plurals around you say that if you like your system, you don’t have DID. They say if you can’t remember your trauma, you probably don’t have any, and “most DID is caused by trauma, you just might be a disordered plural.” They call you endogenic, or mixed-origin, or autigenic. Trying to suggest you have DID leads to them talking about those horrible traumatized systems DID systems disordered systems anti-endos.

“You can’t listen to them. You can’t reblog from them. They’re homophobic, racist, transphobic, bigoted, ableist, wrong. Any information they share is ableist.”

You listen. You always have. You roll your eyes good naturedly at them suggesting you don't have trauma -- they just meant your system isn't caused by trauma. They just misspoke. That's all.

... But what if they're right?

You are 20. You are a ????? system. You say you have DID, because you are disordered and fit all of the criteria, and you can have DID without trauma. Maybe you are just plural?

You start getting into fights with systems online. You spread misinformation your experiences. Anyone who disagrees with you is an ableist gatekeeper. You get fakeclaimed and it hurts. Now you are traumatized by anti-endos. You try to avoid them more, falling deeper into those circles that include everyone, including you. They must love you. They love everyone.

You see a post about trauma. You realize, slowly, so so slowly, your parents have hurt you. You remember everything. No??? You remember so little, the voices scream, sob, you can’t remember it because you’re not even trying to. Why bother trying when you can live in denial, and keep getting abused each time you go home, and keep getting hurt worse and worse every single weekend?

You are 20. You are a DID system. You have trauma. You know some of it.

You go to your manipulators harassers friends. “I figured it out! My system was formed my trauma!"

“Oh, you poor soul, who told you that?”

You feel cold. “What?”

“Those awful anti-endos fakeclaiming you-“

You feel isolated. “No?”

“You can’t listen to them. You’re autigenic. You’re being manipulated. You don’t have trauma.”

“My parents-“

“They love you, that’s not abuse. They were rich, that’s not abuse. They only yelled at you, that’s not abuse. You aren’t traumatized — don’t let the anti-endos convince you that you are.”

You are desperate. “But my DID!”

They frown at you. “You don’t need trauma to have DID. Saying otherwise makes you a sysmed."

You leave your friends. They weren’t friends at all.

You isolate. You have nobody. You made it clear that you would not speak to the filth anti-endos traumatized systems like yourself. You have nobody left to talk about your trauma with.

You are 21. You are a traumatized DID system. You only have your partner and in real life friends. Your abusers force you to drink on your birthday, and come into your safe space. You have nightmares for weeks.

Then you’re 22 and you are stuck with your abusers. You can see their faces now. You know the truth. You feel sick.

You are 23. 24. 25. You find new circles. You've researched trauma more, not nearly enough. You briefly become anti-endo, frustrated as you see more and more people hurt like you were, frustrated that the pro-endo spaces do not have any resources for those like you. Then you mellow, you try to divorce your trauma from your experience online. You try to find places to spread research and knowledge, to be traumatized and have people recognize what that means.

You are attacked for being traumatized, because this space has never been safe for trauma victims. You remember how you used to think when you were 19. You remember how you felt when you were left all alone. You try to keep the doors open, but it's so so hard, and you have to take care of yourself too. But you try. God, you try to help others.

You are 26.

You are in so many circles — endogenic, plural, CDD, traumatic, traumagenic, it doesn’t matter. You have so many people.

You see people telling others, “You don’t need trauma to have DID!” You take a deep breath and follow what your disgusting medicalist inclusive and welcoming therapist has taught you about stopping spirals. You try not to say anything deep at first, because you’re clearly triggered, and recent lessons have taught you more that you need can’t be traumatized online without getting hurt badly.

But you see people denying their trauma. Saying, “I don’t remember any trauma, and even if I did have trauma, I don’t feel like I do."

You remember being that way. You remember not remembering. You remember how your parents sexually abused you, now, even after you thought you’d remembered it all. You remember how your parents hit you and neglected you alongside their overbearing lack of boundary keeping. You remember how you convinced yourself it wasn’t trauma.

You remember how you went back, for years, because of what people said.

You could have left at 19. You had the chance. The options. The doors to freedom were wide open, and you did not step out, because you thought your cage was already freedom.

How much sooner could you have been free if you had simply acknowledged you had trauma, and it had been made clear that it was okay to have trauma? That it would be safe to leave? That you deserved to be able to leave?

You do research. You've done research. You try to find proof of endogenic -- of non-trauma -- DID. You find fakeclaiming. You find people misinterpreting statistics, or even flat out lying about statistics. You find decades, even centuries of research, in the attempt to figure out what's happening. You even resort to literary analysis, because at least you might be able to find evidence of people discussing non-trauma DID as a legitimate scientific thing while psychoanalysing old texts -- just like back at 19, back in college, back when you first heard what DID was.

You find nothing.

You try to share your experiences still. You try to explain in more private spaces, spaces where there can't be anonymous hatred flung your way -- or worse, people who have determined that you are an enemy that must be defeated taking each word you say and twisting it to demonize you -- and you watch in horror as they remember.

"That's trauma?"

"That's disordered?"

"I've never heard of this before."

"I thought I was endogenic. I thought I didn't have trauma."

They're fine. They struggle -- but trauma is a struggle -- and more importantly, they now know what resources to even aim for. They know where to look. They know what can help.

You wish you'd known that.

And you will never, ever stop being bitter about the years those people took from you. You will never forgive them for their fakeclaiming. You will never forgive them for the years you spent being abused more.

But it's okay.

It's normal.

And isn't it better to be inclusive of that very slim amount of people who, despite all evidence to the contrary, and despite all of Occam's understandings, and despite the harm that inclusiveness does to those who are suffering, just have DID without any of that pesky, disgusting trauma?

What do I know? I'm just a filthy sysmed.

[kneelingshadowsalome]

What if Engel wanted to be turned... but was really sad n scared to feed on humans? She's always been such a nice and helpful neighbor... now she has to KILL PEOPLE??? what would könig do?

I’m starting to develop so many soft feelings towards Engel, she seems so cute and harmless and well-meaning in every scenario even if she’s a crazy wacko stabber inside and makes the perfect companion for a menace like König... She’s trying so hard to be nice and good and always ends up in an awful amount of trouble, poor thing! (No wonder König is in love with her, she’s an absolute mess ^^)

I would expect she’s not like Louis from Anne Rice’s novels, the reasons for not wanting to hurt humans are not as deeply philosophical and existential as his, she’s just been conditioned so well to what’s wrong and what’s right that she snaps her mouth shut everytime it’s time for supper :(

But the thing is, König never allows her to kill anyone… He always brings her meal for her and kills them before her eyes (that’s perhaps why she’s even more traumatized and refuses to eat lol), he even has the first taste to check if what he’s feeding her is savory ❤️ So Engel never has to wrestle with the issue of killing her victims herself (even if she should! She's a vampire now and König is basically infantilizing her here), so what she does instead is develop an eating disorder of sorts.

König tries to find out if there’s something wrong with the meal he’s chosen for her, if she only prefers women, for example, or if she likes humans who have never tried alcohol, things like that. When he finds out it’s only her soft heart and last traces of human nature, König gets more or less furious. His angel is about to faint, she doesn’t even have the strength to get up in the evening – so of course he has to force her to feed at some point!

Things will have to get a bit tragic before Engel agrees that she has to eat – and it takes a while for König to understand he has to change his tactic to help her. Trying to force her to eat only results in a pouting, stubborn, angered little Engel who tries to flee him, but praising her every time she takes a sip results in her looking up at him with shining, compliant doe eyes. The minute he caresses her proudly and turns his voice from stern to soft and says she's doing well, that she's so beautiful like this and get's more pretty by the day when she drinks, Engel starts to do much better.

And then the day comes when Engel is whining, basically demanding to have her first kill, and König is at his wit's end yet again because he can't let her beautiful angel go preying on people, she has to be dependent on him for providing food for her...

[undeaddollz]

HENRY BOWERS ANALYSIS!!

btw this is long as shit as it was a ramble to my friend on discord. this is how i interpreted henry, not including the obvious parts of his personality like the racism and much more. thats obvious and everyone knows that, heres something i picked up as i love psychology! i also have a patrick one if you guys would like!

and you can always ask for me to do another IT character as well and i'll try.

so henry is such an interesting character!

it's so obvious he replies on being perceived as masculine and strong because even though he hates his dad he still wants butch's approval and to finally be good enough.

it's part of why he's such a fucked up person and bullies others because it makes him feel stronger and powerful which is something he craves since he is beat at home which makes him feel weak.

bowers gang is a very interesting group of boys, henry is friends with them cause they're kind of like him. we dont get a ton of insight on victor and belch but we know they just think its all in good fun, they dont get as much of a kick out of bullying as patrick and henry. but more or less they're all pretty similar, which henry thrives on. it's obvious he doesnt rely on them or gets emotional with them, belch and victor seem to want henry to but he screams at them every time so they're used to just ignoring the abuse henry goes through.

How henry has a problem with anyone who isnt like himself is an extremely deep rooted problem and the one to blame for this is butch, he beats henry over anything he can, even just little reasons. butch definitely puts some gender roles into henry's head and told him to "stop having a smart mouth" (a reason he hates richie.)

The reason pennywise chose to possess henry is pretty apparent, while it could've gone with patrick i feel like there isnt a lot in patricks mind to break to make him become a mind slave, which is why he just killed patrick instead, using his corpse to manipulate henry. while patrick can be strong he's so mentally fucked up with so many disorders he would've probably just thought his family dying was funny. which makes him a not so great target since he wont be broken like henry could. Henry was having problems at school, home and in his head, there were still parts of him that could be broken as he was not past the point of no return. deep down henry had a lot of fears, one of those fears even being patrick, patricks killing of animals and his own little brother scared henry. while henry could only wish his dad dead, patrick was able to make things like that happen and get away with it and have no guilt, even brag about it.

Henry was still a fairly normal kid until the rock war, thats when i believe he started to go crazy and when pennywise started to get a hold on henry as patrick died shortly after. While henry is scared of patrick that doesnt mean they werent friends, patrick was part of henrys routine, i think having a bit of a routine kept henry sane but the clown started to disrupt that and put henry on edge.

It continues to add shit onto henry's plate to break him. A friend goes missing, he's continually beat at home and it's getting worse. He gets embarrassed in front of his friends, just more and more is added on.

He's then forced to kill his father and then his two closest friends, then made to go back home with evidence planted in his room that he killed all the missing kids. usually he would end up in jail but pennywise knows it will need henry again so it has henry sent to a mental hospital where he endures more abuse and never recovers from having his mind broken as 1, the staff are awful 2, pennywise visits him every night in the form of his dead friends. He mostly takes the form of victor as victor was henry's best friend. the movie isnt fully accurate and uses patricks corpse only when it was actually victor who meant the most to henry, patrick is used as a scare factor.

Although patrick is the one who stuck around to the end and got the same kick out of making people suffer like henry did. he always supported crazy ideas unlike belch and victor. grief is one of henry's huge motivators and pennywise took advantage of that as grief is one of its specialties

[prettysweetprettysweet]

I really, honestly thought I wouldn't be upset when my stepdad dies and I'm kind of bowled over by my feelings right now. I don't know how but apparently I can hate someone while also being deeply sad at the concept of their imminent death. I'm shocked that my instinct is to have sympathy for him and how so much of his life was difficult or unrealized, how he suffered as a child and never had the love or support he needed to battle all the things that turned him into such a horrible and abusive person as an adult, never introduced to the concept of self-improvement, didn't have any tools to begin with to better himself.

the abuse throughout my life and his inaction as an adult to make any effort to be a better person was entirely his fault but his default state of emotional and mental disarray was largely the fault of caregivers who didn't actually care about him and his health, or even really conceive of him as a person with his own inner life, thoughts, and workings. he clearly has always had some sort of emotional disorder and severe depression, but no one cared enough to address it even though his quality of life was abysmal. he was neglected, and wasted so much of his life in a state of violent anger.

there were rare instances where a situation and his behavior was so horrid that I would lose my instinct for self-preservation and fight back with a frightening intensity despite the consequences, and sometimes it caused him to become overwhelmed and start crying. my rage and indignation would disappear because all of a sudden id feel like I was looking at a toddler who didn't have any framework for regulating their emotions, only just barely beginning to learn how to think, feel, or act like a human. all I could feel was pity for him. as I got older one of my coping mechanisms was to regard him and his daily rages like a toddler with their first toothache having a tantrum because they can't conceive of why where and how they're hurting.

I'm both deeply sorry for the many, many ways the world failed him when it mattered most (especially because I too am cursed with genetically inherited mental illnesses, but I was able to get treatment for them), and deeply hateful of him - the person he was who made the childhood of my brother and I such a terror and caused us to be permanently separated from each other (to such an extent that my brother and i have only just started recovering our relationship, 20 years later), and the person he is now who has never done a single thing in the interest of helping us heal or contend with our trauma, almost as if none of it ever happened.

It's so fucking crazy. I don't want anything to do with him or this process of dying and being put to rest, but at the same time I'm scared that those who are dealing with this won't show him the sympathy needed to make his passing easy. we never had anything even close to a sentimental attachment throughout my life, and for the most part I spent my youth trying to avoid being in the same space as him. after everything, why do I want him to die easily?