#and i feel like i experienced most of my trauma too late to have it???

[nightfallsystem]

i hate my stupid life everytime i look up did / osdd symptoms i have a LOT of them but if i get diagnosed what if my mother abuses me for it. she doesnt like when im mentally unwell. like really. really doesnt like. like threatens me when im unwell. what then. then ill like. die. THEN ITLL GET WORSE .

[yorsgirl]

Yan!Heian!Sukuna and with Y/N?

Lately, whenever Darling got pregnant she ended up having countless miscarriages, the longest lasting at least 3 months, Sukuna began to suspect these countless coincidences.

He doesn't care about these losses since he didn't want to share Y/N with some brat, but he found it very strange that every time she got pregnant resulted in a miscarriage, so he started investigating and finally found out why this was happening.

He discovered that Y/N was causing her own miscarriages, as she knew that the last thing the world needed was Sukuna's descendants, so he finally confronts her but with that damn psychological terror that he loves to do to her.

Oh my, I love love love this idea!!

I kinda went out on this one, but I hope I did justice to what you were aiming at. Hope you like it :) Also I am sorry for being so late

Playing God

Yandere!Ryomen Sukuna x Fem!Reader

Synopsis: It was a gamble, he was willing to make. To keep you with him, forever, as he wanted. Needed. You had to realize that no other heaven except his arms would be comforting. Even if that meant, breaking your very soul.

Tropes: Dark Romance, horror, angst

Warnings: Implied nsfw(forced), mentions of pregnancy, miscarriage, abduction, cannibalism and isolation. Trauma, mild stockholm syndrome, yandere themes, minor character death(s), gore, gaslighting, manipulation, misogyny, blood, degradation(non-kinky), patriarchal society, unhealthy relationship, implied child birth.

General warnings: Yandere!True form!Husband!Sukuna, Wife!Reader, Heian Era, both Sukuna and reader are a red flag on their own, usage of nicknames, no mentions of y/n.

Word Count: 9.7k

You were digging your own grave.

So you shouldn't have been surprised that your wish would be granted. Yet, if you could have one wish then you'd wish for freedom but no- freedom was a forfeited dream, far beyond your reach. Consideration of that one would never be fruitful. You are trapped even in your dreams.

Playing with fire only gets you burnt.

For long, you played this game and this- this was your compensation. For everything you had done until now, all you are returned with was abandonment. Not that supposedly, betrayal, yes. More appropriate.

Flames surrounded you, crawling up your skin, the screams piercing your ears, your chest heaved up and down. Gaze, once settled on your hearth, now all you saw was the burning hut, the crackling of embers reached your ears. Attire and hands stained with blood of the insolent. The warning shouldn't have been taken lightly. Should have known, the extent of his power.

Eyes held terror, fright, regret- whatever you could name. The multitude of names you received seemed no more than a distant dream, nowhere to be found. All were running away - expectable.

You expected calamity, but you were calm.

Everything went down in flames. Save for you, you weren't burning. Not an spark touched your skin. Was it the distance or the control? Who knows. But one confirmation which you held was that tonight you won't die. Not so soon either.

Careful, not all Gods are worshipped.

The words rang in your ears and as if on cue, you found him again.

In this reverie of madness, he held your sight when you attempted to turn - the eyes tinted with crimson.

.

"I am sorry for your loss, m'lady."

You had seen it all.

You had your fair share of encounters, received news and such. Women losing their mind and sanity after delivered with a news this devastating. Notably, no woman would feel any bliss after knowing that they had lost their child. Lost the chance of motherhood before experiencing it. Violent outbursts was the most probable outcome.

"This is a hard time," The midwife spoke softly. "Yet, you shouldn't neglect your health."

You perceived the softness to be fear. She must have had dealt with situations like these, most of them traumatizing as you assumed. Perhaps, she expected the same from you too.

You tore your gaze off her, leaning back on your bedframe, "I'd like to be left alone."

Your declaration was answered with compliance. Offering a humble bow, she bid you farewell, walking out of your chambers. Once her footsteps seized, you finally let your guard down. Breathing out a sigh of relief, you laid back down on your bed.

"Good riddance," You muttered to yourself. Moments of such vulnerability wasn't rare, considering you were served with loneliness, lately. Save for the times you spent in the presence of Sukuna. His decree, one might say. Your attention shouldn't be wasted on anyone but him. You scoffed recalling his words. Involuntarily, you stroked your belly, the corner of your lip curled up.

Once a house to life, given by your husband; now lay vacant from your doing.

A twisted sense of pride swelled up in your chest, a wide grin stretching on your face. You were successful in your quest, again. Mercilessly, you uprooted the seed of your husband's lineage.

Perhaps, you've truly gone sick.

Yet, this revolt of feelings were miles lesser than the repugnant you encountered when you realized your first pregnancy. You were on the brink of clawing out the creature growing in your womb. You'd have torn it apart with while revelling in the joy of watching its blood drip down on the face of Earth. If not for Sukuna's presence in the room, you might've gone through it.

You lost a fragment of yourself, that day.

Throwing up countless times, dizziness, nausea, even losing your consciousness while walking down. No, they weren't pregnancy side effects. More so, the outcome of the stress accumulating in you.

Sickening. His kin you'd have cradled in your body. To be born and grow up into a revolting, merciless creature like his father. To take up place in your womb, your flesh and blood and combining with his – a living proof of your plight. Disgusting.

Never. You'd never let that happen.

You'd never succumb to such monstrosity.

You had already given up your freedom, your dignity, your alight life to Sukuna in exchange of the lives you held dear. The lives back in your ancestral village, home to your kin.

You were affirmed. An heir of Ryomen Sukuna would never be birthed from you.

Speak of the devil, he appears.

An overwhelming familiar aura surrounded your very being, the doors to your chamber slid open, your captor, your husband strolled inside. Even his mere presence held the malevolence in him. You attempted to rise from your position at his arrival.

"Sit." He commanded.

You silently obeyed his order, keeping your gaze settled on your lap, the energy had your stomach churning with trepidation; at times when you didn't do anything either. And this time, you were guilty. Two moments passed in silence until he spoke.

"I heard from the midwife."

You took in a sharp breath, swallowing a lump in your throat. It was the same ordeal, like the first two times. Yet, you were a tad bit calm since the previous encounters. Probably, due to the fact you were getting used to this role. In this past moons, you had developed into the wife, he was carving you out to be. Giving him just the reactions he wanted, for that saved you a lot of anguish and pain. Even if it came at the price of your self-respect. This was the only way.

With your head hung low, you spoke, "Forgive me, my lord. I am incapable of bearing you an heir. I-It must have been my fau-"

"Not another word."

You instantly stiffened up, his deep voice causing chills to run down your spine. Did you make an error? Was he aware of your tumultuous acts? Was the play not convincing enough?

He held your chin, forcing you to look up at him. All of his four, red eyes bore into you. You bit on your inner cheek, blood coursing in your veins - steadfast.

They say, your fear start to vanish once you've remained in the source of their vicinity too long. That statement is false. For even after staying with your captor for almost two years, you still held your fear.

"The one at fault bore consequences."

That's when you were hit with the faint stench of blood from him. Another one perished. You took the wild guess of it being the midwife. However, instead of amplifying fright, it was lessened. You wouldn't be on the receiving end of his wrath.

"You aren't at fault, wife."

Oh, but you were.

Sukuna held your gaze, cupping your cheek; the rough pad of his thumb trailed a line on your skin. His tone and grip were surprisingly gentle. "There's no need to apologize."

The corners of your eyes crinkled down, you lean into his touch. You assume, it's a good move as you noted the flicker of emotion in his eyes. "It's the third time, my lord. Perhaps, I bear some shortcomings."

"What nonsense," He rolled his eyes. "There's none, not in my eyes. Don't fill your head with such fickle thoughts." He paused for a moment before continuing, "Is that understood?"

He wasn't one for affirmations but maybe- just maybe it was his attempt at comfort, you supposed. The previous losses must had him learning, the threads of condolence. Still, for you, they'd never mean anything less than empty words. The last thing you wanted was to be comforted by your tormentor. You'd rather step into hell willingly.

But you were living under his wing. You have to play according to his whims. You nodded. "Yes, my lord."

His hand left your face, dropping to his thigh. He looked at you, as if sizing you up. You had to keep yourself from making any unnecessary movements. Sukuna wanted you composed, whatever the situation. (Except the times when he bedded you, you were allowed to scream, cry and thrash around then. Cause you were trapped under his immense strength, struggles were futile).

After a while, he asked, "Any wishes?"

You chewed on your bottom lip, eyes flickering down then back to him. You let out a breath, before continuing. "May I visit the shrine... this evening?"

Silence.

You were contemplating whether you had offended him, somehow. Previously, he did allow for your little trips, you wondered if his patience was running thin cause of your repeated incapability of bearing him an heir. Maybe, you ran out of luck.

You were about to mutter an apology but then a smug grin spread across his lips, "Why so?" He asked.

"To-" You swallowed a lump, preparing to answer the practiced dialogue. "To offer prayers for–"

"Why grieve for someone who didn't even take form?" He cut you up, raising an eyebrow. For a tad moment, he sounded curious. It broke into a cruel chuckle, "You humans would make a funeral out of anything, yes?"

If you held an ounce of sympathy then you wouldn't question.

You wanted to say but you knew better. Besides, you still have to keep up the act of being his loyal wife. Heaving a out a deep breath, you replied, "I suppose." You paused, running the tip of your tongue over your lip.

"I'd pray that I can bear you an heir the next time, my lord."

Nay, more so: I'd pray that you receive your end soon, my lord.

Sukuna watched you. No, not look. He watched, like a predator. Then, his lips cracked into a sinister grin. "You've a way with your words, wife."

It caught you off guard. You raised an eyebrow, attempting to voice out your confusion. "What do-"

"I will accompany you."

.

"Sukuna sama, the herbalist you asked for, has arrived."

Sukuna spared a glance at Uraume, who knelt by his feet.

"Bring him."

As on cue, they rose up from their stance, pivoting around towards the door. It parted, two curses had a man in their grasp as he struggled to break free. His eyes widening with terror when it fell on the King, sitting atop his throne.

The man was pushed down to his knees, face meeting the floor in a loud slam. His scuffles were in vain against such power, he knew that. Still, in a situation of life and death, rationality takes it's leave.

Sukuna clicked his tongue in annoyance. All he wanted was some herbalist to answer the flurry of questions in his which had him restless for the past few days. Did this scum think he'd be killed? Maybe he would be, if he deems it necessary or he proves to be useless.

What had him restless was your miscarriages. Counting the most recent would make it a fourth. Where did he go wrong? You were kept in utmost luxury, no toils whatsoever. Still, what was wrong?

—》《—

"Perhaps, there's some faults in her highness."

"Keep your voice down, Mira. Someone may hear you."

"I am a lot quite... but tell me, don't you find it strange? How come she has lost all of her children?"

"I- I suppose. Perhaps, motherhood is not written in her fate."

"Or so, she's simply incapable."

—》《—

Safe to say, those were the last words they uttered before they were turned into a mash of flesh and blood.

Sliced into pieces that even trying to make a proper corpse out of the remnants weren't possible.

At times, Sukuna wished he held the power to bring back someone to life. Then maybe, he'd have given those servants a death, more worthy. Maybe, ripping out their limbs, piece by piece. First the bones would break, ripped from the ligaments, then it'd be the muscles; that was easy to just tear out. And after that happened, he could have just sewn up the blobs of flesh again and repeat the process until they learn their lesson or the life leaves them again.

He deduced the latter would be more probable. Still, it would be fine. They deserved that.

Speaking ill of you in his palace, in his vicinity, in his world was prohibited. A sin, in the words of humans. And a sin never goes unpunished.

You - his consort, his queen, you were heavenly. There isn't a fault in you, it's some external factor, must be. But he can't let go of his growing suspicion either.

Sukuna detested children, it was a known fact. Always ending their lives first, whenever he set foot in a village. They were of no use to him, unless they were served to him on his platter. He couldn't deny, their flesh was flavourful.

Even though, he held great disdain for them, he couldn't help but desire a kinship with you. With the price of letting go of your undivided attention? Hmm, doesn't sound too great. He assumed, he can hire a wet nurse just in case. Still, he desired to see you round with his child, feet swollen as you struggled to walk around. You do not have to worry, he, your husband would joyfully oblige in carrying you in his arms. You were more than perfect, he couldn't even imagine just how beautiful you'll look, during and after carrying your child.

It was destined. You'd extend his lineage or no one else.

You were flawless then why were you causing such errors? Contradicting. It was his question until he started to take a note in your behaviour, and he found–

Sukuna stood up from his throne, walking down the steps of bones, presumably of the ones he killed. They act as a pretty show piece, according to him.

The court resonated with his footsteps, each one carrying a promise of death. The man's struggles seized once he was harshly pulled up by his hair, his eyes met with Sukuna's.

"Yo-your high–ness," The man fumbled with his words, a spine chilling sensation going down his frame.

"Time's wasting," Sukuna said, his glare pointed. The fury evident, though his exterior was calm. "Comply if you don't wish death."

The man nodded frequently, his fingertips trembled with anticipation and horror. "Ye-yes, your highness. It's an honour to s-serve you." The man fell to his feet as he was dropped. Sukuna dismissed the extra company with a wave of his hand.

"Rise," He declared.

The man still on his knees, raises his head. "What can I- I do for you, your highness?"

—》《—

"May I make a request, my lord?"

Sukuna's eyes flickered to you, yours not meeting his. Knelt before him, you gracefully poured the sake in his ochoko.

"Speak."

He marked the squinting in your irises, fingertips trembled when you put the vessel down. Your shoulders rose and fell before you gazed at him, reluctantly. He couldn't help but find your antics inhumanely amusing. 

"Would you be kind enough... to bring me this-" You paused for a fleeting moment. "This herb called... aloe vera?"

—》《—

"Aloe vera," Sukuna tilted his head aside, the upper pair of arms crossed over his chest. "What use does it have?"

"We-well, my lord it's used for heal-healing purposes, burns, cuts, rashes... it heals injuries, yes." He answered, taking a gulp. There was other uses too yet his head was alike a blank canvas, before such a formidable strength. He wasn't even aware if it was satisfactory or why the King of Curses needed to know about such a measly plant. But if it meant he could see the sun for another day then he'll just give whatever he could offer. "I-It can also be used to– to make me-medicated food. N-not a delicacy... I might add."

Sukuna raised an eyebrow, "That's it?"

"N-no, my lord. There- it can cure diges-"

"In pregnancy."

The man stiffened, his mouth parting a tad bit. A whisper leaving his lips, "Yo-your highness...?"

Pregnancy, menstruation, considered taboo. A matter regarding women, spoken in the inner chambers, the men should remain ignorant. A topic whispered in ears not spoken aloud in any hall, let alone the royal court. Certainly, Sukuna was aware of this societal construct, yet he didn't care. The society and its idiotic rules could go to hell. He just needed answers.

"Speak," Sukuna's voice was louder, deeper when the man before him fidgeted in his spot due to discomfort - on speaking such a topic.

"It-Its a... your highness, I d-don't think you-"

"Insolent bastard," His fumbling was interrupted by Sukuna. The warning evident in his profanity. His face grew darker, the four irises glowing with impending danger akin Satan himself. "If you so much as want to live, fucking speak."

The man's blood ran cold as on cue, face turning a shade paler as if winter had started to pool in. Tears prickled the corners of his eyes, "Forgive me, your highness! I will speak, I will- yes- aloe vera its-" He heaved out a deep breath, an attempt to slow down his beating heart. "Any fo-form of it is ill-suited during pregnancy... it can cause... cause pe-pelvic haemorrhage leading to... to  misc-"

"Miscarriage?"

"Yes, miscarriage... can lead to miscarriage, your highness."

A profound silence prevailed. Not a soul spoke neither was a footstep heard. Not a leaf rustled or the howling winds tapped on the window pane - assumed, mother nature had halted its elements from making any noise.

The stakes were high yet an flicker of courage alighted in the man as he raised his head up to glance at Sukuna, "My lor-"

The man's head tumbled down before he could even complete.

He couldn't scream, he couldn't beg, he couldn't apologize, he couldn't even blink. All he could do was watch. Watch as his beheaded body fell limp before his eyes. Watch as the blood poured out like waterfalls staining the carpet with its hues. The red marred bones protruded out amidst the flesh, globs of blood was gushing out of his severed voice box. His body jerked, the remnants of conscious nerves trying to survive.

It was a neat cut. A heavenly sight.

The world started to blur in. And before he knew it, the light was gone from his eyes.

Sukuna didn't even spare a glance as he marched out of his court.

Uraume approached the body, a few maids accompanying them. They casted a disapproving glare at the corpse.

"Not edible, dispose of it."

.

You didn't see or hear from Sukuna for a week.

He didn't visit your chambers at night neither was he present when you sat down for your meals. Even his energy was alike a hushed whisper which would remind you of his presence in the residence, but not reveal himself to you. For some reason, it had you in an unease.

No, you certainly did not miss his presence. But his absence just made the surroundings almost suffocating. There was the looming threat that something had happened or something were to happen. One worse than the other.

Silence was never uneventful.

Insinuating the courage, you had once inquired Uraume about his absence. Presenting a polite bow, they answered, "Sukuna sama doesn't want to be disturbed."

Disturbed... as if he wasn't the cause of all disturbances. A natural disaster in himself. You resisted the urge to scoff and uttered a meek line of gratitude before going about your day. (That extended with you strolling down the halls or garden or just be in your chambers and read the few books Sukuna had bought you).

On the very same day the dark commenced. While you were mesmerized by the fall of twilight over the garden, you heard his voice.

"Don't you love playing with poison, wife?"

The sudden question made you halt your steps, you weren't even aware that he was present–shielded his aura, presumably. You turned around, raising an eyebrow with bewilderment.

"Pardon, my lord?"

Sukuna snorted, walking up to you, a smirk played on his lips. You had to make the effort of tilting your head to gaze up at him. His towering figure loomed over you, his lower left hand snaking around your waist, pulling you closer to him.

"You love poisons, don't you? Or in your words herbs."

Your shoulders grew rigid, eyes widening with realization, a sharp breath hitting your throat. Your fingertips trembled with anticipation. You were sure to be discreet in your affairs, using the isolation he subjected you to at its best. Yet he knew. It was bad. Very much so. And what were to happen now? What would he do to you?

Another night of horror where your screams would be unheard, your resistance proved to be futile, where you'd be left to suffer alone, where another shard of your remaining soul would be plunged by him. Another night where you'd again play into his whims... Or something more vile, leaving you physically disabled? Perhaps, even death...

The foremost was the most heinous one. You silently prayed that he wouldn't resort to that. If you were to be subjected to his torment then you wished he'd just kill you, liberating you for once and for all. Even so, survival is what the mind wants. Piecing through any tactic just to live another day. The play for now should be denial.

Sukuna's affections for you worked as a double edged sword. You aimed to take advantage of it, in every way possible. You instilled a bit of courage, standing your ground, you spoke "I don't understand what you're trying to instigate, my lord."

He looked down on you, a coy smile uplifting his lips. He threaded his fingers through the knot of your kimono, leaning down next to your ear, he inhaled your scent. His lips brushing over your neck.

"I do not believe so, wife." He murmured, his warm breath hitting your skin, a range of goosebumps rising over your arm. "In fact, I think you clearly know, what I speak about."

Before you could let a word out, he straightened up, turning around, he pushed you to walk with him. His large hand still covering your back.

"Come, let me entertain you."

.

You were walking to the gallows.

Not literally, but you were sure your end was near.

The wooden floors creaked with footfalls. Each step heavier than the previous. You hesitantly glimpsed at Sukuna, his gaze was far ahead. Not a word left his mouth in this while. Only his hold remained firm. He pushed you forward every moment your step faltered.

Your breath hitched when you turned a corner - the right wing. A rule, you could say. Sukuna made it clear since the day he held you captive brought you home – never step a foot in the right wing. Despair drowned your curiosity that time, you didn't question, least bothered to. Even later, you didn't dare to defy him; courtesy to the pain you were subjected to once.

Still, you could make the wild guess of what happened in there. The muffled screams kept you awake at midnight, it was easy to put the puzzle pieces together. There he revelled with the sick pleasure of tormenting your kind.

He stopped before a pair of oak doors. That's when he glanced at you, for the first time in a long while. For a moment, he stared at you with an emotion you couldn't decipher. The next moment, he pulled out the Kanzashi from your hair, letting your strands tousle down.

You flinched, pushing away the curls which clouded your vision. Sukuna held the pin in his hand, holding your gaze. He was unmoving.

What happened to him?

"My lord," You called. "What are you-"

"Stay quiet," He handed you the kanzashi back, adjusting your hand to hold it as if it were a dagger. Turning to the door, he spared you a glance. "Don't speak a word." With that, the doors opened.

Dark.

It was dark save for the light of the lantern which illuminated the room. He shoved you forward, the door locking behind as he stood aside you.

"One bite."

Huh? Bite? What did he mean? You slightly turned your head towards him but you were stopped in your tracks. It wasn't only you and Sukuna in this room, seems you had a guest. More appropriate word? A Captive.

Your eyes were wide open. On the corner of the room, sat a young boy, not more than a adolescent - blindfolded. Restrained by chains, his wrists and ankles were cuffed with metal. A small whimper left his lips as he registered the presence of both of you.

You were about to speak but then his words rang in your mind.

Don't speak a word.

Sukuna gripped your wrist, leading you to the boy, "One bite, in the arm."

He wasn't talking to you. To the boy, he kept his eyes. You marked how the boy flinched. The metals clanking on contact.

He turned to you then, motioning to the pin in your hand then the boy's arm. Realization hit you. You tried to shake your head, refuse; but one glare of his and you were compelled. Reluctantly, you turned around, trudging to the boy.

Something was wrong.

You could feel it. Why... why would he want you to stab this poor boy? A picture of misery, he was. You noted he didn't have any sign of bruises in his body - peculiar. Yet, his fragile state was enough to give you a hint that he had been here for days. Perhaps, starved too. The tension was high and all you wanted was to leave this room, in an instant.

Fine, if Sukuna wanted you to just stab the boy. You'd do it. Missing the vital points which could end his life. One, he said. You'll miss the point and done. Its not upon you that you'd pierce the wrong place. His instructions weren't specific—that'd be your excuse.

He won't die. Not from your hands.

You gently held the boy's arm, angling the pointers on the muscles. You drove it in.

Miscalculation.

The boy's body instantly stiffened, a gut wrenching scream erupted from his mouth. He thrashed around, swinging his legs and arms, his body twitching violently.

You recoiled back soon, yanking out the pin, stepping away on instinct. You watched with terror.

Foam rose up the boy's mouth, his shrieks pierced your eardrums. The fluid dripped down his jaw, marring his clothes. He clutched the area where you stabbed him. Scratching at it with all his might. The sound of flesh ripping filled your ears as the boy ruthlessly, tore the muscles.

You were stunted. You couldn't speak or move. You weren't chained but you felt as if a thousand shackles bore you down.

The next seconds were a blur. The screams started to die down, his body losing it's color. Sooner than you could grasp, did the room turn silent again.

The boy was dead.

.

"Enjoyed the show, wife?"

You slapped your hand over your mouth, stumbling a few steps back. You couldn't tear your eyes off the young boy, bile rose up your throat as the room started to spin.

"Wh-what did you-"

No- you couldn't throw up, whatever second thought it was, it refrained you from crumbling to your knees and make a mess. Shivers went down your spine, you struggled to stand straight. The stench of the corpse and the expunging liquids started to fill your nostrils. You were almost on the verge to lose consciousness.

"What... did you do?"

Your eyes flickered to Sukuna. He stood tall, not a sign of emotion on his mien. You regret ever considering mirth to the worst feature on him, cause none was more terrifying.

And he was watching you.

It reminded you of the time, you first saw him -  covered with blood of the lives he had taken, down the river bank. Victim of naivety and ignorance, you didn't know any better than to not let him see you. Wandering towards the peculiar beast, even when a gut wrenching terror asked you to run; you were stubborn. You had asked - are you alright?

"What did you do?" You repeated again.

Tilting his head, he kept his unwavering gaze fixed on you. "As a matter of fact, I didn't do anything, wife." He paused, letting the horror shadow your features, "It was all you."

You needed to run.

The kanzashi– which was till then clasped in your hand firmly– fell down. A clank, you heard.

One step.

One step towards the door. He is standing afore you, the fingers of his upper right arm ran through your open hair, tangling in the roots, he yanked your head back.

"I don't remember, giving you the permission to leave."

Tears prickled your eyes as you tried to break free. Sukuna was having none of it. He dragged you by your hair towards the corpse of the boy. Your nails jabbed into his wrist while whimpers of anguish left your mouth.

Sukuna shoved you down to your knees, tugging your hair back - you were sure, they will be ripped off if he yanked with any more pressure - he made you glance at its face. He crouched beside you. With a flick of his finger, he ripped the blindfold out of the boy.

"Dare to shut your eyes."

Compliance had become second nature.

The body was rigid, skin turning blue. The veins on his arms were bulged out, his mouth wide open, filled with foam, trickling down his cheek, drying on it.

The sight caused you to gag.

Horrifying. His bloodshot eyes were wide open, protruding out of the sockets. Irises dilated in shape, which you considered humanly impossible. But what had your heart hammering in your chest wasn't the vivid details you saw on the corpse. It was the fact, that you recognized the boy. Son of that distant elder cousin, you'd seen once or twice in a year.

"Look at that, love." Sukuna cooed in your ear, forcing you to face the corpse.

You shook your head violently, nails dug into his wrist - desperate to escape. Your heart thumped inside your ribcage, you could hear it in your ears, your guts twisted in numerous ways as sweatbeads trailed down your forehead.

"You did that."

No. No, you didn't. You didn't do it. It wasn't you.

"You killed him."

No, you didn't... he didn't die because of you.

"Take a good look. See what you've done."

You vigorously shook your head. Denying all of his claims cause... cause they were... false, yes, false. They were false.

"No," You stated once you found your voice. "N-no, no... I- no."

Sukuna hummed, twisting a knot in your hair, "Yes, you. You did it."

No. You were innocent. You weren't to be blamed. It wasn't you.

It was... him.

"No, no, I didn't," You refused again, standing your ground. Moving your eyes towards him, you gritted your teeth. "No, I didn't do it. I didn't do anything. It was you."

"Really? How so?"

Fire burnt in your eyes. It was enough. He couldn't make you believe which you didn't commit - you didn't kill him.

"Poison," You said with conviction lacing your tone. "He was poisoned, a stab wouldn't procure such a reaction."

"Observant as ever," He mused, quirking up an eyebrow. A faint smile curled up on his lips. "Still, it doesn't gratify the fact that you were the one to end his life."

Blood boiled inside you, surging through your veins like lava. He had no right to accuse you of something. You didn't kill him, he couldn't make you believe it, whatsoever may happen.

"I may have stabbed him with the kanzashi, but that didn't have any trace of poison in it. I am-"

"Sure of it?"

You could only glare at him. He was toying with you. Tugging the strings of your conscience but you won't have any of it. "I am," You confirmed, staring at him without any falters. "I held it... you held it. If it was really drenched with toxicant as lethal as that, we- we both would be dead."

His grip loosened from your hair, hand falling down. The corners of his eyes crinkled, the smile turning into a smirk.

"It was you," You continued. "You did something to him at first and-"

Sukuna broke into a chortle of laughter. Far from jovial, more so sinister, filled with sheer malevolence. He gripped your jaw, pulling you closer to himself. His sharp canines glinted in the dim light.

"You just keep on fascinating me, wife."

Each second with him was revolting. Just his touch alone had your skin crawling. Yet, you couldn't let him know he has the upper hand.

"We had a pact," You stated firmly. His game was disgusting. What was he trying to do? What was his goal? "If I stay with you, you wouldn't lay a finger on my family, then- h-how could-"

"I would still stand on the ground, that I didn't do anything." He replied, a hint of amusement in his tone. "It was all you, wife. I can assure you that I didn't go back in my words." His canines glinted while he smiled. "Not a flick of pain. Save for..." He paused, his eyes widening, the carmine irises glowed in the dark. "Save for telling him, he'd be killed by a snake bite."

"There was no venom on my pin."

"Know so," He confirmed, a playful smirk on his visage. You wished you could read minds, if possible only of him, that'd been enough. Then where did poison come from? You wanted to question but he beat you to it.

"His fear turned into poison."

You blinked. Once. Twice. You knew he had an urge to play mind games but this was ridiculous. You questioned, shell-shocked, "What?"

"He let his fear get the better of him, assuming your pin to be a snake. He believed it." He explained while you listened without so much as a word. "His conscience caused his body to give out the exact reactions, he imagined. A shock, you might say. That caused his death."

His game was disgusting. If he thought, he could just give you any excuse as this and let you believe his accusations then he was mad wrong. You gritted your teeth, yanking your face away from his grip. For a second, you saw all of his eyes opening wide with surprise. But that didn't extinguish the fire burning in you.

He reached out, dragging you towards him via the arm. A glare resting on his face. "What did I tell about refusi-"

"I don't believe you," You cut him off, hands clenched into fists. It was the first time in a long time, you lost your composure in front of him. No, you wouldn't play as his doll anymore. He broke his promise, its only fair that you do so. "I don't believe a single word you say. You- you did something, you must have. Fear, belief, whatever the fuck, something as trivial as that-"

"So you think fear is trivial, wife?" He sighed, his clutch in your arm remained firm. The rough callouses of his palm, rubbed over your skin. "And here I thought, you might be different than the rest. But you managed to drop below my expectations."

"Maybe that's what I love about you, darling." He continued.

Disgust arose in you yet again. Love. As if he had any of that. He wasn't capable of love. Not in this lifetime. Never. 

He spoke again, "Times you are the smartest I have seen, then you speak such blasphemy which would even embarrass the Gods you worship. Your silence was awarded by him leaning near your ear. He twisted a curl of your hair between his fingers. "Fear, wife..." He whispered to you. "Fear is a mind killer. It makes you believe anything. The small drop of poison which contaminates all the water."

"In the end, belief and fear are sides of the same coin," His top two eyes, flickered to the corpse of the boy. "I made him consume the poison of fear and you-" He turned to you again. "You made him believe it... so, in a way, yes. Yes, I did do something. Save for the part of ending his life. Though I didn't break my part of our pact." A smirk tugged on his lips. "You were the one who killed him. Isn't that great?"

Your breath hitched, throat gone dry. You gazed at him, eyes wide open. Your mind was a blank canvas.

Fear, poison, belief, killing...

He made you kill someone. An innocent boy who didn't even do anything.

Why won't he much rather just end your life?

Sukuna pulled away from you, standing up, he walked over to the lantern placed in the room. The stench of the rotting corpse had long ago started to pool in.

"You made me kill him." You whispered, still knelt, staring at the floor. When greeted with silence, you questioned again, a tone higher, "You made me kill him."

"And?"

His nonchalance had always been infuriating to you.

You could feel him standing a few steps behind you. "If you really wanted to kill my kin, you should've just told me. Getting your herbs was a tiring chore." You didn't miss the emphasis he put on, herbs. The roll of his eyes while speaking floated before your eyes even though you couldn't see him; the expression must had turned to a smirk later. "However, the taste of taking a life– isn't it delicious, wife?"

Guilt gnawed at you, tearing you internally. Your shoulders trembled as you let out ragged breaths, eyes fixed on the bloodied arm of the boy. The same arm where the kanzashi pierced, the muscles torn apart, blood drying on it due to the boy's onslaught. Nausea overrode your senses, bile rose up your throat and the next moment you were throwing up. The wastes ran down your mouth, your nails dug into the wooded boards – bruising your fingertips and chipping the nails. You didn't realize Sukuna stepping up to your side, pulling your hair back while you were caught into the ordeal.

A disapproving grunt left his mouth after you were finished, yanking you up with your wrist. He pulled you towards the door. "Com-"

"No." Your heels remained firm on the ground. You refused him before you could even think. He turned towards you slightly, a scowl resting on his features before he pivoted around. He cast a glare upon you but before he could speak, your mouth opened again.

"You're even lower than scum." Your jaw ticked, hands clenching into fists. "You made me kill an innocent boy. Someone who might have done nothing to you, You– You disgust me, Sukuna."

Done you were with the respect, he demanded. If that angered him, made him want to rip out your heart and watch the life drain from your eyes. He was most welcome.

But it looks like, he wasn't resorting to any of that.

"You made me a murderer." You urged, staying strong in your stance. "You turned me into you."

His eyebrow twitched, a wave of mirth washed over him. "You were always like me, wife."

"I am nothing-"

"You are. You are like me. You are no saint, as you think so of yourself. " He said, leaving no room for argument. His lips pressed tight into a thin line. 

Yet, you refused to believe that. You were nothing like him. Couldn't even dream so. You were not him.

"You kill children in your womb, I kill them after they're born. How is it so different?"

"It is different." You yelled, your jaw clenched, teeth baring out. "This world needs no more of your lineage, it needs no more of you." You jabbed your pointer finger on his chest, tears pooling into your eyes. You refused to shed them. "You kill for your own sake, I do not."

"Then who do you kill for?"

"For everyone." The faint snort of his reached your ears. You couldn't decipher what he found so delightful in this.

"Playing God, are we?" He mocked causing your vexation to rise.

"Maybe I am. For the least, I am not killing innocent people like you."

From where such defiance arose, you weren't sure of. Perhaps, all the frustration, fright, terror which accumulated till now had reached its limit. Moreover, Sukuna's provocation must be the fuel to the fire.

You might be left bleeding– No, you would be left bleeding. You welcomed it with open arms.

.

"Careful," Sukuna pushed a strand of your hair behind your ear. "All Gods aren't worshipped."

He was enjoying himself. In all honesty, your obedience was getting too monotonous. This was better. Your defiance was amusing. Arousing, if there's to add. If he knew, letting you end a few lives would have this effect then he would have resorted to this long ago.

"Better than you." You shoved his hand away, "You are nothing more than a wretched, two-faced curse destroying all of our lives."

He noted your scowl, the way your lips were shut tight, your eyebrows crinkled together. Reasons evident, all he desired was to pull you into his arms smash his lips against yours. Taste the very essence of your being. Consume you wholly, just the way you are. So that in the end, your name, your taste, your scent would be engraved in his very soul. Without your mention, he wouldn't be complete. 

But he refrained from giving in now. His desire extended to a far more sinister route. "I wonder..."

What would it be like to break your conviction? What would it be like to break you?

Oh, he knew.

Would it be right moment to let you know? Maybe he should wait for another, more appropriate time.

Hmm, perhaps he should. But no.

He let you play these games for too long. Tired of this game plan, he was. Maybe, you would just come to your senses if he let you know. So he let the words, flow out:

"I wonder, why this curse keeps protecting your pathetic life from people who would cross rivers to lay siege to your life?"

Worth everything.

Sukuna watched as your face lost its color. The previous boldness you presented him with was replaced by a mask of confusion and. Such a pretty sight, it was. To see you, falter from your stand. Second guess, yourself, be in denial then rage consumes you. And you look at him, like he was the forbearer of your misery. (He is).

Oh, how good he has you memorized.

Even the littlest of reactions you contort on your mien, on your mannerisms; everything has him intrigued. You have him intoxicated.

"You know the ones, the people... your people, for whom you play this God."

Sukuna wished he could capture this moment. He'd have the chance to take a glimpse of it again, whenever he wished to. The horrified look on your face as the weight of his words started to sink in.

Would you still look like this if he tells you the terror he bestowed on them who tried to steal you away from him? What would you say if he vividly describes each imagery of how he slowly, agonizingly burnt them, severed them and tormented them? Leaving them nothing but fragments beyond recognition.

You were his. All of you belonged to him. Without his sanction, no one could even see you, let alone touch you. Ah- just how many sorcerers perished from his hands, the number of villages, bathed in blood; save for yours. (Courtesy to that stupid pact, he forged with you)

Something had told him, that there'd be a better time to put an end to the pitiful lives of your kin.

"Can't speak? What caused so, darling?" His tone was laced with smugness, a twisted joy elicited in him. "Fearful that your play amounted to nothing?"

Your jaw ticked with anger. You were furious. "I don't believe you. You are lying."

Your trust on humans was commendable, he'd give you that. However, there's stark contrast between faith and blind belief. You were inclining towards the latter.

So, what do they do when words fail to convey message? Oh right, you give them a prime example.

"Let me just show it to you then, wife."

It was a gamble, he was willing to make. To keep you with him, forever, as he wanted - he needed you to know that no place other than his arms would be as comforting. Even if that meant breaking your very soul, so be it.

.

You were home.

One moment, Sukuna held your gaze. The next, you are standing before your hearth.

Toes dipping into the familiar black soil, the land where you ran and played during your childhood. Your familial home stood steps away from you. Still looked the same except the visible cracks on the wall, a layer of dust on top of the door and the woods looked worn out. However, what caught your eyes weren't the flaws of your home but the familiar older woman walking into your home.

"Mother…"

She stilled all of a sudden, rotating on her heels, her eyes landed on you. Shell shocked, that's what she was with the widened eyes and parted lips. A small smile curved up on your lips, she still looked the same except the few grey hairs and wrinkles aside her eyes.

"Mother," You called again, taking a step towards her. "I am back."

Sooner than you expected, her eyebrows scrunched up, mouth curving down when she finally registered your presence. You weren't some illusion or her mind playing tricks. "What are you here for?"

The disdainful tone caused you to flinch. You didn't expect this. Returning home, you dreamt of it to be filled with tears of joy and warm embraces. Not this… whatever, she was presenting you with. But- But its fine, you have returned after a two whole years. She must have been worried. The reason of her apprehension. God, you had a lot making up to do.

"Well, you know," You chuckled lightly, scratching the back of your neck. "Back… just back. I have returned."

"Found your way after two years?" She crossed her arms over her chest, staring at you with a look you didn't want to recognize.

You nodded, "Yes. How could I forget my way? Our address, its-"

You were interrupted when your name was spit out from her mouth. Her glare on you was palpable, "I know what it is. What are you here for?"

Her fury even made your skin crawl with fear. You were often on the receiving end of her glare when you were a child, given by your tendencies to run around and cause trouble for others. Yet, those glares, were none like this. This- this- you didn't want to name what it was.

"You are angry," You don't know if its directed towards your mother or yourself as you hold onto the last bit of fragments that not all is lost. "I get it, I really do." You stood on your toes, attempting to look behind her, into your house. "Where's father? Tell him, I am-"

"No more."

As if the air was knocked out of your lungs.

"What?" Your neck craned towards her so fast, it might have left a sprain. Yet, that was the least of your concern. "What do you mean by no more?"

"No more means no more." Your mother's sigh fell heavy on the air, words carried the weight of the world. Laid with pain underneath.

"How- when? Wha-what happened?" You couldn't wrap your mind around the new discovery. No one told you such. Who could've guessed? Such an ordeal to occur in your absence. And what might she be going through, without you. You didn't even get the chance to talk to him, one last time.

"A year ago," She confessed, her voice conveyed her lament and sorrow. Her words felt like a hammered blow on the fragile façade of hope, you had intricately crafted for yourself. However, she wasn't done. Her eyes held scorn, lips curled up to a sneer. "Aren't you satisfied? You finally made your mark. Must tell you," Her voice, once filled with love held nothing save for contempt, directed at you. "Good game, you played, dear." She spit the endearment as if, it were poison.

"No, I- I never wanted any of this. What are you even talking about?" A trembling footfall towards her, you whispered, "M-mother-"

"Don't you dare call me that."

The weight of her judgement felt heavy on you, pressing down, suffocating you alike chains.

"You are no daughter of mine."

You weren't aware since when the tears had sprang up your eyes, breaking the barricades, they shed down. Your throat burnt as you struggled to even breathe, clutching your chest - a searing pain shooting in your heart. Your heart was shattering from the ultimate rejection from your own flesh and blood.

"While you're at it, know this." Your mother continued.

The next words were like a blow to the gut, each syllable lined with the weight of revelations. Ones that hung in the air like a funeral shroud.

"In his last moments, his only regret was bringing a daughter like you in this world."

.

This night just doesn't seem to end, does it?

You were left as a hollow shell. Tethering the steps away from the home you were no more welcomed. Exhaustion reigned heavy on you. Physically and mentally.

Where were you going? You didn't know. Just where your feet would take you, there would you go. Perhaps, you can return to Sukuna. Would he take you back? Most probably not. Considering, your earlier outburst, adding to the fact that you refused to give him what you want; he might just discard you as you proved to be useless.

Funny. It was so damn funny. Once, you wished to escape from his hands whatsoever the price yet now… now you considered returning to him.

You could hear him calling you pathetic. Disgusting. More disgusting, that you agreed with him.

You were truly pathetic.

But before you could spiral down the void of self-hatred, a voice- nah, multiple voices startled you.

"There she is, parading around some meek, innocent girl." A scoff is added. "You are far from it."

"The nerve of you to just walk back into our lives after you betrayed us."

Your neck cranes to your left, an old man - the village elder with a few other men and women following behind; they approached you. "Excuse me?"

"Who do you think you are?" A woman's cry reached your ears. "Returning after you turned your back on us."

You flinched at the accusation thrown. What could be possibly be instigating? To all your knowledge, you were walking in this- in your village after two long years. Anger, disdain and accusatory glares clouded their features. If your mother's insults weren't enough to pierce through your heart then it certainly did now, with all the people, you once called your own to look at you like you were the monster.

You summoned the least bit of courage you had, squared your shoulders and started, "I'd have you know-"

"Traitors don't get to speak." At the center of the crowd was the village elder. He was the pillars of your hamlet, revered for his wisdom and guidance, but now he looked akin a judge ready to deliver his sentence upon you. A sentence which would push you more into this conundrum. "You've been cavorting to that monster. Disgusting."

"I am no traitor." You retorted soon. "You can't accuse me of such when you don't ev-"

"Save it for someone who would care, whore."

The curse had your mouth parted in disbelief, horror etched upon your mien. Sooner than you could compose yourself, did whispers of agreement rippled through the crowd which branded you as a traitor.

"You are just as twisted as him."

"Get out of here if you so much as hold your life dear."

"Don't play as the innocent bitch, now."

The accusation hung in the air like a dark cloud, poisoning the atmosphere with its venomous hatred. Your breath was caught in your throat as you searched desperately for words to defend yourself; the crowd's hostility rendered you speechless. But amidst the cacophony of condemnation, one voice stood out above the rest.

I wonder, why this curse keeps protecting your pathetic life from people who would cross rivers to lay down yours?

Really? Were you really recalling his words now? Now of all times… You truly were pathetic.

For one moment, You just stayed silent - letting their accusations bore you down. Somewhere you wished all of it were just a nightmare. You'll soon wake up on your bed beside Sukun- fuck! Since when did you start to expect to wake up with him? He- He was toying with your mind. This was the only result. But the fact that this was your thought process had you recoil back.

The next moment, everything made sense.

These accusations were stemmed from the fact that you- you were proclaimed to be the wife of the King of curses. Your unwillingness to return, given for the pact you forged with Sukuna, was taken as your cue that you betrayed your family, your home, your people.

Your family despised you. Your people despised you. The very same people you chose to protect were turning their back on you.

Did they truly try to lay down your life?

Amidst your plight, you didn't register when the village elder marched up to you. "Didn't you hea-" His trial at speech was cut off. Nay, his lifeline was cut off. (Humorous, isn't it?)

Numerous red lines appeared on his body before it burst off into a globs of flesh and blood. Blood which splashed onto you, marring your visage and attire with its hues.

He was here. You knew it. You could feel it.

For some reason, it filled you with a sense of relief.

However, your people were on the other end of the rope. The eyes which afore held hatred and disgust, they were now filled with horror and fright. In this reverie as the villagers started to flee, a torch tumbled on the ground - lighting the grass on fire. The winds showed no mercy, as the howls increased, so did the flames.

Provoking him was never the right move.

You were digging your own grave.

So you shouldn't have been surprised that your wish would be granted. Yet, if you could have one wish then you'd wish for freedom but no- freedom was a forfeited dream, far beyond your reach. Consideration of that one would never be fruitful. You are trapped even in your dreams.

Playing with fire only gets you burnt.

For long, you played this game and this- this was your compensation. For everything you had done until now, all you are returned with was abandonment. Not that supposedly, betrayal, yes. More appropriate.

Flames surrounded you, crawling up your skin, the screams piercing your ears, your chest heaved up and down. Gaze, once settled on your hearth, now all you saw were the burning huts, the crackling of embers reached your ears. Attire and hands stained with blood of the insolent.

No one touches what's mine.

The warning shouldn't have been taken lightly. Should have known, the extent of his power.

Eyes held terror, fright, regret- whatever you could name. The multitude of names you received seemed no more than a distant dream, nowhere to be found. All were running away - expectable.

You expected calamity, but you were calm.

The sparks danced over your irises as everything went down in the crimson hues. Save for you, you weren't burning. Not an spark touched your skin. Was it the distance or the control? Who knows. But one confirmation which you held was that - tonight you won't die. Not so soon either.

Careful, not all Gods are worshipped.

The words rang in your ears and as if on cue, you found him again. In this trance of insanity, only one thing held your sight when you attempted to turn - The eyes tinted with crimson.

All of a sudden, something burnt inside you too.

Unbridled rage consumed you. Your chest heaved up and down as ragged breath left your mouth. Their words came back to you, ringing in your ears as if you were pushed into a void.

Who do you think you are? Returning after you turned your back on us.

Would this bitch even be alive if you prioritized yourself?

Don't play as the innocent bitch, now.

Is that the thanks you get for trying to protect them?

Traitors don't get to talk.

Traitor… fine, you'd be the traitor.

With caution you took one step towards him. No reaction. Your chance - you took another. Then another and another. You stood before him, with nothing save for a void etching your features. Amusement flickered over him, the corner of his lip curled up.

"Saw it for yourself wife?"

Seemed like silence was your go-to response lately. From your peripheral, you saw the burning houses, the distant screams reached you. For some reason, the screams were almost soothing. You revelled in this. Their gut wrenching shrieks were like a balm to your essence.

Their predicament was your solace.

Sounded like someone you knew. Someone who had warned you about them but you chose to remain ignorant. Sickening… were you becoming like him?

You were always like me, wife.

You could laugh. Maybe you were like him.

"Let's forge another pact?" You offered, keeping your eyes pinned on him.

"A pact?"

"A pact."

A smirk curved up his lips, the upper pair of arms crossed over his chest, "Humour me, love."

The smirk wasn't directly for you. But he did. So you returned it back. One with an equal malicious intent. Cause in that moment, no second thoughts, no doubts clouded your mind. And so, you uttered the blasphemy:

"You kill them all, each and everyone. In return, I will stay with you, give you an heir. Whatever you want from me."

.

A year later

Screams died down after a gruelling ten hours.

"Good news, Sukuna sama. It's a boy."

A/N: Honestly, I was almost done with this fic, long ago but while writing the climax, I kept chickening out with all the self-doubts but then I just wrote what I wanted. I do understand if the ending is not up to your liking and I sincerely apologize for it.

However, thanks for reading up till the end. I enjoyed writing this a lot. Some feedback is appreciated <3

[bakugoushotwife]

blessing and curse

summary: yuuji is a wonderful boyfriend...you just wish he was able to fuck you... warnings: post shibuya, aged up duh, yuuji struggles with ptsd, night terrors, as well as anxiety, you both see therapists, oral (fem receiving), penetrative sex, fem!reader, pet names, (pretty girl, baby, cutie, etc), rough sex. wc: 3k a/n: this is my first yuuji piece nom nom nom i'm actually obsessed and soaking wet tbh i'm thinking thoughts for yuuji.........anyway to my lovely requester i hope you enjoy this <;3 jjk masterlist here

yuuji feels things very intensely. it’s a blessing and a curse, though the latter is more often experienced than the former. guilt, loss, regret–all things that nearly swallowed him whole while he fought for his friends and the people of japan–for the whole world. it’s so hard to be him, to live with what he carries on his shoulders–on his soul. he’s unloveable. he’s the one who caused all of the pain—things would have been easier if he died. there’s a number of people whose lives ended because of and for him. he was only just adjacent to a murderer. months after the fighting ceased and the war was won, he would wake up numerous times through the night with night terrors. he couldn’t even call them nightmares because they weren’t fabrications of his imagination. they were all too real memories that kept making their rounds–reminding him that he would be forever burdened with a layer of hell no one else could claim to know about. 

he met you in the waiting room of his therapist’s office. he remembers seeing you and wondering what you could be talking to his specialist about. it meant you also had to be a sorcerer—clearly he couldn’t see a normal one about his specific traumas and baggage, and apparently neither could you. he remembers not even knowing you and his heart still hurting for the pretty young girl that must be hurting like him. he remembers hoping that you hadn’t been through anything like what he had—the anxious voice in the back of his mind wondering if somehow he caused your pain via sukuna’s rampages or the destruction and death that followed him. he remembers you meeting his eyes on a seemingly unremarkable thursday afternoon, catching him in the middle of one of his staring way too long episodes. you narrowed your eyes and tilted your head at him in amusement. 

the rest was easy. you were easy to talk to, to admire, to hold, to love. you made him feel intense things in a good way–in a way he had nearly given up on. his world had slowly become a mixed palette of blacks and whites and muted grays–but your smile brought color back. your touch made vivid purples and yellows; your laughter the brightest of pinks and the most warm oranges. you became the blessing where he was the curse, the savior of a damned man bound to paint on smiles and pretend that sacrificing his soul and everyone he’s ever loved was worth it. now he felt unimaginable comfort and love by getting to know you. his smiles weren’t so fake anymore—and the only things that woke him in the night was losing you. truly the only fear that yuuji itadori has left: cursing his blessing. 

you thought he was the best boyfriend around and an even better man. you’ve slowly but surely unraveled the reason he was visiting the therapist through his eventual opening up to you and telling you just a fraction of what he’s experienced in his life and you can understand his intimacy issues. see…yuuji is easy to love. he’s wonderful, attentive, sweet, careful, strong and chivalrous. but he won’t fuck you. you’re too nervous to push him any further—all too aware of his fears of letting anyone in, of loving and showing that in ways that make you vulnerable. he’s all too conscious of what it would mean—of the danger he would be putting you in.

there’s been many times here lately that you’ve thought that line will finally be crossed—heavy petting and make-outs that get you squirming in his lap and soaking through your panties. it always goes this way, no matter how innocent the two of you try to keep your dates. move night, game night, even cooking together ends up with yuuji’s tongue down your throat and his hands under your shirt. tonight is no different, some youtube video plays in the background—a forgotten video game walkthrough that yuuji had been paying careful attention to until you leaned in to rip it away with those teasing kisses to his jaw. you know exactly what buttons to press after four months of nothing past second base driving you to a point of restlessness. 

you just wanted him to see your perseverance. you would do this for as long as it takes, anything to prove that you’re here to stay. you want to make him comfortable enough to tear those walls down—the ones that make his eyes flutter shut and his hands fist at his pants in order to keep them to himself. his eyes close to will himself to concentrate on something–anything—other than the feeling of your warm lips tracing his pulse, smooth fingers sliding under his shirt to outline the dips and muscles of his torso. it’s not that he doesn’t want to this, he craves you like nothing ever before. your touch is the medicine bringing him back to life, but he can’t allow himself to ruin you—taint you. but as you move into his lap and change your kisses to more intense nips and sucks at his skin, his body betrays his mind. he can feel the blood rush to his cock as your thighs trap him beneath you, and he moans out at the same time you do. the pressure of your clothed cunt sitting against his needy dick has his hands moving before he can tell himself to stop. he grabs your waist, accidentally and automatically rutting up against the friction you offer with a hiss. 

“fuck, cutie.” he groans, your lips covering his parted and pouty ones to keep him from protesting further. his fingers only dig into your side as the two sides of his mind argue with each other. he wants you badly, your body slotted against his perfectly and the way you kiss him like you’re trying to touch his soul drives him crazy. anyone with a girlfriend as hot as you would be a fucking idiot to keep denying himself of her. his hands knead the warm flesh of your body as an instinct, his body knowingly responding to your advances. his tongue slides over yours in a frenzy, his head becoming fuzzy as saliva trails down his chin—something in him telling him to stop when his hands slide upwards to palm your chest. you cry out at the feeling—so starved for his affection that you know you’re soaking wet already. just his rough hands scraping over your sensitive nipples sends you into rutting rhythmic circles of your hips over the tent in his pants, breaking your sloppy kiss in order to remove your shirt fully in a silent show of what you wanted to happen next. 

“aw baby—you know i can’t,” he whines, his lips swollen and even pinker than usual. he drops his hold to your hips, making comforting circles over the bone beneath his grasp. your face drops to instant heartbreak and he can feel his own heart try to rip itself apart for making you so sad. he never thought about how this must affect you, a woman with needs and desires for her boyfriend. he knows this can’t last much longer or he’ll lose you anyway. the room is just a mixture of your heavy breathing and the monotone droning of the tv for a few moments, and then you whine in retaliation, picking up his hand and moving it back to your breast. you search his eyes, seeing the fear flickering in those brown embers of his. you just need to show him there’s nothing to be scared of, that you need him worse than you need the oxygen in this room and would do anything for him today and forever. 

“yuuji,” you gasp out in such a voice that he knows he won’t be able to hold back this time. four months of seeing your body in your cute date outfits and in his shirt after you’ve spent the night; the feeling of your curves under his fingers as he guides you to the safe side of the sidewalk or the swell of your hip as he guides you through the door he’s just opened—four months of draining his balls after he’s sent you home with nothing more than a few wet kisses and tit-squeezes. the way your eyes shine like you’re about to cry if he denies you one last time…it’s too much. “please—i need you,” you breathe out, reaching those gorgeously soft hands out to sweep against his cheeks, to plead with him to be a good boyfriend. he can’t make you suffer any longer—”i need you so bad yuuji, please don’t push me away…i’m your forever girl!” 

oh fuck. he might cum in his pants from hearing that alone. suddenly, silence falls upon his mind. he can only hear the echoes of your cries for him–no more voices in his head arguing about the best way to continue, only you. a guttural groan rips from his throat and he stands with your legs wrapped around his body, a broad hand snaking up your back to keep you pressed against him. you squeal a little at the sudden shift and the deep growl that he let out, his face now devoid of that playful man you’ve come to love. he looks so focused, so serious, his brow furrowed as he looks over your face. 

“i’m sorry i made you wait so long, pretty girl.” he nods, letting your body bounce on the bed as he’s set on immediately removing the remainder of your clothes. he pulls you to the edge, legs dangling over the sides. you almost think it must be too good to be true, sitting up on your elbows to catch a glimpse of that ravenous fire consuming his previously kind eyes. he’s leaned back to peel his own clothes off, but his eyes never leave your body. he looks over your lip pinched between your teeth to your pebbled nipples to the glistening slick coating your inner thighs. he doesn’t even know where to start, but he’s going to ensure that you’re finally taken care of. “i’m a dumbass—thought i was keeping you safer like that.” he mutters, leaning over to kiss the space between your ribcage. he makes his way to your jaw, licking a hungry stripe between your breasts and claiming your neck with bruising nips at the delicate flesh that greeted him. 

you’re set to mewling immediately, the flip switched in your boyfriend making you rub your legs together in anticipation. he chuckles and you can feel him smile against your skin as his hand snakes down to keep you from squirming. he quickly pecks your lips. “m gonna make it up to you now, baby girl.” his eyes are wide, but glazed over with affection. you nod, feeling his strong fingers dig into the supple flesh of your thigh to keep you from closing them, his abs raking over your sensitive clit as he lowers himself to his knees at the foot of the bed. your face burns as you realize what he’s going to do, but he doesn’t give you time to think about it before turning your mind to mush from the feeling of his fat tongue splitting your lips apart and breaching your tiny hole. he seems pleased by the way you react—back arching off the bed and hands gripping at the sheets from the surprising burn. it’s a good burn, the kind you’ve been craving for the months you’ve been with a man who loves you like he does, your wanton moans just cementing that his choice was the right one. he’s growing addicted to this already; your flavor on his tongue, your moans echoing in his ears and your thighs pressing in to the sides of his face. he feels your silky walls clamp down on his tongue, making his eyes roll back at the thought of putting his dick in something so tight. he slurps at the arousal slipping out, sliding his tongue to the hardened bud waiting at the top of your cunt. he wraps his tongue around your clit, making you jolt at the sudden increase in sensation. it’s amazing—goosebumps prickle out over your skin and you reach down to tug at the silky pink locks woven between your fingers. you can feel every nerve running through your body and how it builds with a fiery pleasure that you know only yuuji can give you. “oh my god—yuuji!” you cry out as that pleasure mounts to a tipping point. his teeth scrape against your hood to encourage you to fall over that line so he can see what he’s been denying you of for four achingly long months. 

you make the sweetest face when you cum, it has him closing a fist around his own dick to calm himself—the promise of having your pussy making him jerk at his own touch. you even sound so pretty as you shatter, legs jerking and your grip on his hair yanking almost painfully hard. it only makes yuuji smile wider, feeling a bubbly sense of satisfaction ripple in his own gut from making you feel so good. 

“nngh, yuuji–” you whine, your vision returning to normal after a few seconds of respite. he’s already pushing you back to the pillows, manhandling you into the bent position he wanted. you’re on your back, knees by your ears and a boyfriend giving you no time to be anxious about the angry and leaky horsecock sliding through your folds. you thought he was a sweet man, and maybe he still is–but his own excitement to have you has him forgetting his normal chivalrous behavior. “fuck–yuuji!” you claw at his biceps, fighting against that true splitting burn. his tongue was nothing compared to the girth he pierces you with—and he’s smiling so tenderly at your wiggling and struggling. 

“s’okay, cutie. you can take it, you’re already taking it!! didn’t you ask me to?” he raises a brow, face flashing with mock-confusion as your hands shove at his chest, all in an effort to get used to the feeling of him inside you. his thumb brushes your cheek, his other hand keeping the back of your thigh shoved back. “nyeh—you begged me! come on pretty girl–you gotta loosen up!” he laughs airily, moving the hand from your face back down to pinch and roll your aching clit. you jump at first, the touch sending another jolt of pleasure circulating to your brain–and then you relax enough for him to move. he’s got you folded in such a way that you can hardly breathe–or maybe that’s from how he slams into you recklessly, tip catching on your poor, innocent, cervix each time. it hurts, it burns everywhere—but it’s the best feeling in the world. his breathing grows ragged once he settled into a pace, brutally slamming into you in a way that led you to believe he wasn’t doing this on accident. 

soon, your hands around his biceps slip to your sides, eyes lulling into a pleasure-induced haze. you watch him, the twitch of his nose and the way his hair gets curly once it sticks to his forehead from his sweat. he’s perfect, and he’s finally giving you all of himself, really devoting himself to you, conquering any fear. you don’t mind if you’ll be bedridden for the next week—feeling his heavy cock in your chest from how hard he ruts into you—it would be well worth it to hear his grunts and whimpers of satisfaction, to feel the bruising grip he has on your body like he’s afraid you might disappear. it’s all so good, and exactly like you craved. “there she goes—takin’ it like a champ now!” he cheers you on, panting a little as he leans over your body and grabs the headboard, deepening his angle as if he wasn’t already fucking you brainless. 

the new angle makes your jaw drop in absolute earth-shattering bliss. you two could be the only people left on earth and you would never know—to consumed in yuuji itadori to notice anything else. you’re back to pawing at his chest, the coil in your gut building rapidly as he fucks into you like his life depends on it. you wanted everything, he’ll make sure he gives you everything. the headboard creaks, the bed moans with you and you truly do worry he might break it for a split second–but his broken moan of your name swallows up any wandering thoughts. a bead of sweat slides down the slope of his nose before it drops onto your cheek, the evidence of his hardwork. he moans your name again, warning you that the end was approaching. you nod as he moves your legs to his shoulders, leaning as close as possible to wrap you in his arms and kiss you in short, desperate bursts. he treasures you more than he thought possible, that look you give him right before your eyes roll back into your head from your orgasm makes his own dick jump within your vice-grip of a cunt. you make that sweet face again, a face he knows he’s hooked on—your pussy spasming around him to welcome his fat load gets him to make his own kind of special and beautiful face, lip between his teeth and adam’s apple bobbing at the same pace his balls slap into your backside. you swear you can feel his heart beating, his lungs filling and emptying as he flattens his chest to yours and fills your guts with his loving cum. he keeps thrusting even after he’s done, just watching your face contort and shift, your body bouncing in his arms. he likes the ache of overstimluation, and loves the way you mewl and hug him, eyes all sleepy and far away. 

“that’s it, you did it, so so good.” he praises in a soft tone, kissing your lips and then your nose and then your forehead with equal adoration. “can’t believe i kept us from feeling like that!” he shakes his head, kissing your cheeks to continue showering you in his love if not to keep you awake. he sits back up and slides out of you, quickly snatching his t-shirt up to catch the spillage. it’s hot, watching his seed trickle from your abused pussy—he whines a little at the sight, puppy dog eyes flickering over your body as if to wonder if you could take another round…

now that you’ve gotten him to start, you may never get him to stop.

[fallstaticexit]

The Art of Being Seen - a Nancy Landgraab story

୧‿̩͙ ˖︵ ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ ︵˖ ‿̩͙୨

𝔓𝔞𝔯𝔱 𝔒𝔫𝔢 - 𝔜𝔬𝔲𝔱𝔥

Prev / Next

AN / Transcript under the cut

AN: Nancy's story will consist of 3 parts: Part One- Youth | Part Two - Uni | Part Three - Wife Three pivotal moments in Nancy’s life that shaped the Nancy we know today.

As mentioned in the prologue, this story may contain mature and possibly even uncomfy themes and all posts will have their corresponding trigger warners in the post as well as the tags. Trigger Warnings are: Homophobia / Religious Trauma / Death via Car Accident/ Drugs / Alcohol / Infidelity / Sex & Nudity

Also, I have experienced CAS burnout lately, so I aged down most of the townies to teens lol. I figured this version of Cassandra Goth can be the AU version since I’ve already wrote Bella and Morti Goth into my Briar legacy, which this story is apart of that universe.

Transcript:

Cassie: This is Blair Hall, the senior girls’ dorm, and if you ask me, it’s the best one. We have our own private library. Down there is the rec room; we’re not allowed to have the boys over unless it’s with a chaperone.

Cassie: We’re also the closest to the church, which is great for when we have group sessions before service. You won’t have to rush and scarf down breakfast, plus you can sleep in a little!

Nancy: [sarcastically] Gee, how’d I get so lucky?

Cassie: Sister Agnes always says, It’s not luck—it’s a blessing! Vacancies are hard to come by. My old roomie withdrew; she had a really hard time fitting in with the other girls. They can be... kind of intense.

Dina: Oh, look. Another pretty blonde rich girl. Like those aren’t a dime a dozen here.

Nina: [scoffs] Here we go...

Dina: I am not joking. I better not catch her ass around Don. The last hoochie he was tonguing down was also a skinny, flat-chested, blonde bimbo.

Vanessa: You need to put his weenie in a cage instead of fighting every girl that breathes the same air as him.

Dina: Well, he wouldn’t be tempted if these floozies would stay away from my man!

Vanessa: I guess dyeing your hair blonde isn’t working for you, huh?

Dina: Oh, shut it, VV. You’re just jealous he isn’t into redheads.

Nina: Hmm, I thought he was into redheads though.

Dina: Ugh, as if!

Cassie: You can pretty much decorate your space however you want. Just nothing that’s on the prohibited list. There’s a room check every night before curfew, and-

Nancy: What do you know about that redhead on the balcony?

Cassie: Dina?

Nancy: No, she said her name was Vanessa. I ran into her this morning but she didn’t mention her last name.

Cassie: Oh, yeah! VV. Vanessa Villareal. She’s- eh, one of the mean girls. I try to stay out their way. Probably best you do the same.

Nancy: [softly to herself] Villareal. So, she’s old money, too.

Cassie: Her family built the school. Guess that’s why she feels like she can do whatever she wants- eh, don’t tell anyone I said that!

Cassie: But, erm, you’re welcome to hang out with me and my friends during rec and lunch and stuff. I know how tough it can, being the new girl and all.

Nancy: Yeah? ...thanks- Cassie, was it?

Cassie: You’ll totally like my friends. They’re the coolest people on Earth.

Cassie: Definitely better than some people. You can tell who goes here because of their faith and who was forced here because of their lack of it.

Cassie: Hey guys! This is Nancy, she’s my new roomie.

Bob: No way, they filled Angela’s spot already? Money talks. I’m Bob, or Bobby, and this cool, tall drink of water is Geoffrey. Welcome to Paradise.

Bob: [whispers] Geoffrey! Say something to the pretty girl!

Geoffrey: [voice cracks] W-we’ve um, met already.

Geoffrey: Our dad’s are friends. I just haven’t seen her since we were 10 years old. She looks so... different.

Bob: Oh, I seeee. First love? Your ears are beet red, my man.

Bob: Take a seat, newbie! Are you into D&D, perchance?

Nancy: I have no idea what that is.

Bob: Oh, ho ho! You’re in for a treat, m’lady. I’ll catch you up from the beginning of our campaign.

Vanessa: You look so bored. Want to get out of here, new girl?

Vanessa: Don’t worry, I’ll return you back to your nerds in one piece.

Cassie: [grumbles] Um, hello, we’re sitting right here?

Nancy: Go where, exactly? This place is in the middle of nowhere.

Vanessa: Guess you’ll have to come and find out.

Nancy VO: [I learned then, that I would follow her anywhere]

Dina: There she goes, taking in another stray.

Nancy VO: [All she had to do was take my hand]

[03jyh23]

🚪⌇not like the previous ones┆kang yeosang

yeosang x gn!reader

│synopsis: the one where i love you scares the life out of you

│genre: hurt/comfort

│trigger warnings: anxiety, insecurity in relationships, feelings of guilt and regret, past trauma from previous relationships mentioned

│words: 3.3 k

│reminder: what you’re about to read is purely fiction, so let’s keep it separate from reality.

│the requested prompts are bold

!minors do not interact!

— hi there my lovely people! the time has finally come for my first yeosang fic~ when i saw the request sangie was the first member that came to my mind so i just went for it! thank you for requesting!

love, monika ♡

It was a late evening, and you were comfortably curled up against Yeosang, enjoying the warmth and closeness as you both settled in to watch a movie he had chosen. He had promised that next time, he would watch Titanic with you, knowing how much you loved it. However, for this evening, he was especially eager to watch the latest Marvel movie recently added to the streaming platforms. You could feel Yeosang's excitement radiating through as he explained why he was so looking forward to this film. His body was warm, and the sensation of feeling him so near provided you with a comfort you hadn’t felt in a long while. Yeosang and you had just recently started dating, and it was difficult for you to open up to someone new. Letting yourself go and releasing all the worries and wounds your earlier relationships had left you with was not easy. Yet, Yeosang was so gentle and patient with you that you couldn't help but start gravitating toward him. Your eyes drifted away from the TV screen for a moment, only to find Yeosang staring at you with his pretty, brown eyes. Those eyes, which seemed to see nothing but you, held a world of warmth and affection. You smiled gently at him, your brow furrowing slightly as you mouthed, "What?" His gaze was so tender that it made your heart flutter. 

Yeosang opened his mouth only to close it again. He smiled at you, and you swear you could melt at the way his eyes smiled, creating those crescent moons. You giggled softly, feeling shy all of a sudden, and you put your head on his shoulder, leaning even closer to him. As the movie played on, you found it increasingly difficult to focus on the screen, your mind drifting to how fortunate you felt to have someone like Yeosang by your side. He gently wrapped his arm around you, the simple gesture made your heart flutter, and you couldn't help but smile to yourself. The comfort you felt in his presence was something you hadn't experienced in a long time, and it made you realize just how much you had needed to feel this way. 

You tried to focus on the movie, but your fluttering heart made it hard to do so. Every scene seemed to blur together as your mind wandered. After a small while, your eye caught a glimpse of Yeosang staring at you once again. You felt warmth spreading throughout your face, a blush creeping up your cheeks. 

Yeosang didn't look away; instead, he smiled gently, his eyes crinkling at the corners. That smile was enough to make you feel like the most special person in the world. You couldn't help but smile back, feeling a sense of happiness. The movie played on, but it was clear that neither of you was paying much attention to it anymore. 

"Sangie!" You smiled, punching his arm gently. "You wanted to watch the movie, yet you aren't paying attention!" 

Yeosang chuckled softly, rubbing the spot where you had playfully punched him. "I can't help it," he replied, his voice filled with warmth. "I find you much more interesting than any movie." His words made your heart flutter even more. You felt a blush creeping up your cheeks and tried to hide your face by snuggling closer into his shoulder. Yeosang tilted his head slightly, resting it on top of yours. "You know, you don't have to hide from me," he whispered softly, his breath warm against your ear. 

"You just... you are too sweet, and it's embarrassing how red my face probably is right now," you whispered, your voice barely audible. You could feel the warmth spreading across your cheeks, and you were certain that your face was now a deep shade of crimson. 

Yeosang's hand gently traced small circles on your back, his touch soothing and reassuring. "You don't have to be embarrassed," he murmured softly. "I think it's adorable." 

His words made your heart flutter even more, and you couldn't help but smile against his shoulder. "I just... I'm not used to someone being so kind and caring," you admitted, your voice trembling slightly. "It's a little overwhelming." 

Yeosang gently moved his arms away from you, his hands on your shoulders, making you stop hiding your face, so you were facing each other. His touch was tender, and the sincerity in his eyes was unmistakable. You could feel your heart racing, the vulnerability of the moment making you feel both exposed and cherished. 

He took a deep breath as if to steady himself, and without much thought, he blurted out, "Y/N, of course I treat you kindly. I mean, that's how you show you love a person." 

You felt your heart sink, and panic rushed through you. The words echoed in your mind, and you found it hard to breathe. Yeosang noticed your reaction and quickly added, "I didn't mean to scare you. I just... I love you, Y/N. And I want you to know that you're safe with me." 

You abruptly backed away from Yeosang's hold, swallowing hard. Your eyes couldn't focus, your thoughts were racing. Even when you opened your mouth to answer, nothing came out. 

Yeosang's expression shifted instantly, concern clouding his face. He reached out tentatively, yet you smoothly escaped from his touch. "I'm sorry if I said something wrong," he murmured, his voice tinged with worry. 

"I... um... I just, yeah thank you but you should really get going," you mumbled, your voice barely above a whisper. The words felt heavy, laden with the weight of your insecurities and fears. You couldn't meet Yeosang's eyes, afraid of seeing the hurt and confusion that you knew would be there. 

There was a moment of silence, a palpable tension hanging in the air. Yeosang hesitated, clearly torn between wanting to respect your wishes and the urge to stay and comfort you. Finally, he nodded slowly, his expression a mix of sadness and understanding. "Okay," he said softly, his voice gentle. With that, he stood up and made his way to the door, leaving you alone with your swirling emotions and the lingering warmth of his presence. 

The night was spent in creeping and paralyzing guilt, that held you in a chokehold. Every time you closed your eyes, the scene replayed in your mind: Yeosang's hurt expression, the way his shoulders slumped as he walked out the door, and the heavy silence that followed. You tossed and turned, unable to find any semblance of peace. The weight of your insecurities and fears bore down on you, making it difficult to breathe. You couldn't shake the feeling that you had pushed away someone who genuinely cared for you, someone who had only shown you kindness and patience. The guilt gnawed at you, making sleep an impossible task. You lay there, staring at the ceiling, wishing you could turn back time and handle the situation differently. The night stretched on, each minute feeling like an eternity as you were held captive by your own remorse and regret. 

You lost count of how many times you picked up your phone and tried to type any sort of text to Yeosang, yet nothing seemed to be suitable. Each time you began to write, your fingers would hover over the keyboard, paralyzed by doubt and fear. You would type a few words, only to delete them moments later, convinced they weren't enough to convey what you truly felt. You wanted to apologize, to explain, to assure him that your reaction was a result of your own insecurities and not a reflection of his actions. But no matter how hard you tried, you couldn't find the right way to express the turmoil inside you. The more you struggled, the more frustrated you became, until eventually, you would put your phone down with a heavy sigh, the message unsent and your heart still aching. 

A few days passed, and you tried to fall back into your routine to keep your thoughts in check. You immersed yourself in anything that could distract you, but the emptiness left by Yeosang's absence was hard to ignore. During those days, you found yourself repeatedly checking your phone, hoping for a message from Yeosang, but the screen remained stubbornly blank. Each day without a word from him felt like a sharp pang in your heart, making it harder to hold onto the hope that things could be mended. 

You knew it was high time to start making peace with the undeniable truth: you had lost Yeosang. 

Or maybe you should just reach out to him like an adult should, and face your insecurities? After all, you owed it to yourself and him to be honest about your feelings and fears. But then again, what if Yeosang had just given up on you? What if he did not want to be there for you, ever? The thought of losing him for good made your heart ache even more. Yet, despite these fears, you could not ignore how kind and attentive he had always been. If he genuinely loved you, wouldn't he reach out himself? But perhaps he was waiting for you to make the first move, to show that you were willing to open up and fight for the relationship. 

It was yet another evening you spent sprawled out on your couch. You had already binge-watched half of the season of the hottest drama, and it started to tire you. The dramatic scenes on the screen seemed distant, unable to hold your attention any longer. Lying down, munching on chips, and watching TV had indeed made you tired. 

You sighed deeply, feeling the weight of your emotions pressing down on you. You shifted slightly, trying to find a more comfortable position, but no amount of rearranging seemed to ease the discomfort within you. 

As you lay there, staring at the ceiling, your thoughts drifted back to that night with Yeosang. The memory of his hurt expression and the sadness in his eyes haunted you. You replayed the scene over and over in your mind, wishing you could go back and handle things differently. 

The ceiling above you offered no answers, just a blank canvas for your swirling thoughts. You wondered what Yeosang was doing, if he was thinking about you too, or if he had already moved on. All you could do was lie there, staring at the ceiling, and hope that somehow, you would find the courage to face your fears and reach out to Yeosang. 

A sudden doorbell ring startled you, sending a jolt through your body. Your heart began to race, the unexpected sound breaking the silence and stillness of your evening. With each step toward the door, you felt the rush of adrenaline coursing through you. You could barely hold your curiosity and hope as you reached for the doorknob. Taking a deep breath, you steadied yourself, trying to calm the whirlwind of emotions inside you. Finally, with a sense of urgency and a fluttering heart, you swung the door open, revealing Yeosang standing there, holding a bouquet of flowers. His eyes met yours, and you could see a mix of hope and apprehension in them. The sight of him standing there, flowers in hand, made your heart skip a beat. 

"Yeosang," you managed to whisper, your voice trembling. The sight of him standing there, so close yet seemingly so far, made your heart ache. 

"Hey," he said softly, his voice carrying a gentle warmth. "I know we left things in a pretty rough spot, but I couldn't stop thinking about you. I wanted to make things right." 

"I'm so sorry—" you managed to say before Yeosang interrupted you. 

"No, please, let me speak first," he said, his voice urgent yet tender. "I've missed you so much, and I can't stand the thought of us being apart because of.... whatever that was. I want to be with you, Y/N, and I want to help you through whatever you're feeling." His words hung in the air, filled with sincerity and a deep yearning. You nodded slowly as you felt a lump form in your throat, overwhelmed by the emotions coursing through you. "I am not like the previous assholes that played with you," Yeosang began, his voice trembling slightly as he took a deep breath. His eyes locked onto yours, filled with determination and sincerity. "I know you've been hurt before, and I understand that it's hard for you to trust again. But I'm not them." He paused, his gaze never wavering, giving you time to absorb his words. 

The sincerity in his eyes made your heart ache, and you could feel the warmth of his presence enveloping you. 

"I'm willing to do whatever it takes to show you that," he continued, his voice steadying but still filled with emotion. "If earning your love means proving myself repeatedly, that's what I'll do. Because I truly love you." He paused again, his eyes searching for any sign of understanding. "I am ready to work through every challenge, every fear, and every doubt with you," he said, his voice growing stronger with each word. "You can't get rid of me that easy." A small, determined smile appeared on his face, and you could see the resolve in his eyes. "I want to be there for you, to support you, and to make sure you feel safe and cherished," he said, his voice softening as he took a step closer, finally entering your apartment. The proximity made your heart flutter even more, "We can take this one step at a time, together." 

You felt a surge of emotion, your eyes welling up with tears. The vulnerability in his voice and the sincerity in his eyes made you realize just how much he cared for you. Your heart swelled with gratitude and love, and you knew that this was a moment you would always cherish. 

"I was beginning to think you weren't coming back," you whispered, your voice trembling with a mix of relief and lingering fear. You took a few steps closer, finally closing the distance between you. Wrapping your arms around his waist, you rested your cheek on his chest, hearing his heartbeat, which momentarily made you relax. Yeosang’s scent enveloped you, a familiar and comforting aroma that brought back memories of your first date. You noticed he had put on the cologne you had complimented back then, a small but significant gesture that showed how much he cared. 

"I never wanted to leave in the first place," he replied, his voice filled with earnestness. Yeosang finally wrapped one arm around you, pulling you gently but firmly closer. His head rested on top of yours, and you could feel the warmth of his breath against your hair. The worries and insecurities that had plagued you for days began to dissipate, replaced by a sense of peace and belonging. You closed your eyes, allowing yourself to fully absorb the comfort and love that radiated from Yeosang. 

"I've missed this," you whispered, your voice barely audible, but you knew he heard you. 

"Me too," he replied softly, his voice vibrating through his chest and into your ear. "I'm here now, and I'm not going anywhere." 

His words were like a balm to your wounded heart, and you couldn't help but tighten your embrace, holding onto him as if he were your lifeline. You looked up at him as you pulled out of the hug, smiling softly at him. You couldn't even begin to describe how glad you were to see him again, to hear and feel how much he cared. The emotions that had been swirling inside you for days seemed to settle, replaced by a sense of peace and relief. 

Yeosang finally handed you the flowers, "These are for you," he said gently, his voice filled with warmth and tenderness. 

You took the bouquet from him, your fingers brushing against his momentarily. The flowers were beautiful, vibrant, and fresh, and they brought a smile to your face. You couldn't help but bring them to your nose, inhaling their delicate fragrance. 

"Thank you," you whispered, your voice filled with gratitude. The simple act of receiving the flowers made you feel cherished and valued in a way you hadn't felt before. "Nobody ever got me flowers," you whispered, your voice tinged with a mix of disbelief and gratitude. 

Yeosang's expression softened even more, his eyes never leaving yours. "Well, get used to it," he said gently, his voice filled with warmth. "Because I plan on giving you many more flowers, and so much more." 

"I am so stupid for not telling you then, but I love you too, Sangie," you confessed in a rush, your voice trembling with emotion. 

Yeosang couldn't help but smile at your confession, yet he quickly composed himself and took a few steps back, confusing you. Then his eyes widened right before he looked down on the floor. He ran his hand through his hair, and your heart dropped. You watched him closely, trying to decipher his sudden change. The room seemed to grow quieter, the tension thickening with each passing second. Your mind raced with possibilities, each one more unsettling than the last. Yeosang took a deep breath, his expression shifting to one of contemplation. His eyes flickered with a mix of emotions—surprise, uncertainty, and something else you couldn't quite place. He seemed to be grappling with his thoughts, the silence stretching on and making you feel more anxious. 

"Oh..." he gasped loudly, his eyes widening in mock surprise before continuing, "Um… I mean, thanks, but I better get going," he teased, his voice dripping with fake urgency as he mimicked your reaction from a few days ago. 

You couldn't help but scoff at his words, a mischievous grin spreading across your face. You playfully punched his arm, the force light but enough to convey your amusement. Bursting into laughter, you shook your head at his antics. "You jerk," you said, giggling uncontrollably as you remembered the original incident he was referring to. 

Yeosang laughed along with you, his eyes shining with joy. "I couldn't resist," he admitted, wrapping his arms around you once more. "But seriously, I love you, and I'm here to stay." His words were filled with a depth of emotion that made your heart swell with happiness. 

You looked up at him, feeling a sense of relief and warmth wash over you. "I love you too, Yeosang," you whispered, your voice steady and sincere. "And I'm ready to face everything with you. No more running away." 

Yeosang's smile widened, and he leaned down to press a soft kiss on your forehead. "That's all I needed to hear," he murmured against your skin. "We'll take it one step at a time, together." 

You nodded, feeling a newfound sense of hope and determination. With Yeosang by your side, you knew you could face anything. The fears and insecurities that had once held you back began to fade, replaced by the comforting knowledge that you were not alone. 

"So, about that Titanic showing?" Yeosang asked, a playful glint in his eyes. 

You chuckled softly, feeling a sense of relief wash over you. "Yeah, I think we can make that happen," you replied, smiling up at him. "How about tomorrow night?" 

Yeosang's eyes lit up with excitement. "It's a date," he said, leaning down to press a gentle kiss on your lips. 

♡│if you enjoy my writing please consider supporting me by tagging and reblogging│

♡│requests are open │

│ it has come to my attention that a lot of ageless/blank blogs have started to interact with my fics. while i appreciate your interest in my writing, i want to remind everyone that my blog is for adults only. it only takes a moment to personalize your blog and add your age. please take a moment to do so. this way, it will be easier for everyone and will save me from having to go through all my notifications to block blank/ageless blogs.│

[p1nk-matter]

shiggy fluff cause he deserves all the love // inspired by @aslutforfictionalmen's post (here's my interpretation, i also spontaneously wrote this @/3am so his quirk may have been erased not his trauma tho)

‘’There is no reason to be wearing that.’’ You laugh as you look at him.

Tenko in a suit has to be the funniest thing you’ve ever seen. ‘’It's just a drive-in movie theater.’’ You tease and he scoffs.

‘’Yeah well I can’t win, can I? Tracksuits are too casual, I remind you of a busker, remember? And what’s wrong with that by the way, you wish you had their talent–’’

‘’Enough, we’re running late.’’ You cut him off but can’t hide your smile when he’s all annoyed lecturing you in a fucking suit.

The movie chosen was cliché, borderline comical especially when you’re accompanied by a tall man with questionable appearance. How you even convinced him to join you is beyond comprehension, most likely because you promised him to play Nintendo Switch, his latest obsession. You’d play with him regardless, a man with a childhood lost, robbed from things you experienced firsthand at a younger age but Tenko couldn’t really see it. You on the other hand recognized it, and through small acts (annoying as such because for some inexplicable reason he always lost to you) you showed him everything he’d missed.

‘’I wrote you 365 letters. I wrote you everyday for a year!’’

Ryan Gosling says as you feel a hand squeeze yours tightly, shoulders touching as the night sky glows above the projector. You turn to look at him confused, The Notebook was one of those films you’d seen a million times, failing to evoke powerful emotions after some time but it was still a very satisfying rewatch. Tenko turns his head.

‘’What’s wrong?’’ You say, anxious he might be having another panic attack. You knew how to calm him down but never the extent of it and that scared you.

‘’It’s nothing’’ He whispers, his voice is composed, you note, good.

‘’Yes... it wasn't over, it still isn't over..’’ Gosling continues.

‘’Can you believe he wrote to her all this time? This is so fucking cruel!’’ he almost shouts, as a couple of heads turn to look at him annoyed.

‘’Oh my god, are you crying over the movie right now?’’ You want to burst out laughing but the stares warn you otherwise, both your tones too loud. You can’t believe what a sucker for romance he is, he always acts all tough but ends up being hungry for love anywhere he can find it. You kind of get it, it also kind of breaks your heart.

‘’I’m so posting this.’’ You tease as he wipes his eyes clean with a tissue he had in his pocket.

‘’I swear to god if you don’t shut the fuck up.’’ His voice is shaky but his eyes are glued to the scene, anxious for what’s coming next. Will they make up? Maybe even make out, have sex? Poor him, he’s unprepared for the bittersweet end.

-

The drive back home is silent, you take it he’s still thinking about the film, contemplating its ending, unsure whether he likes it or not.

‘’Sooo.. did you like it?’’

‘’It was okay.’’ He feigns indifference and you don’t continue. You allow him to ponder before speaking up, he almost always adds something on his own.

‘’I just think it’s funny she married the other guy, you know.’’ He says.

‘’What was she supposed to do? She didn’t know about the letters, remember?’’

‘’Still, if she really loved him, she should’ve waited, should’ve been alone, grieved on her own. How could she do this?’’ He asks as you sigh.

‘’It’s just a film and people make mistakes. You never know until you tell them.’’

This time he doesn’t continue.

-

‘’So what do you want to do?’’ You ask once you’ve arrived home, it’s already past midnight but both of you are too lively for sleep.

‘’You promised Nintendo.’’ He reminds you and you sigh. Not your favorite part of the day but you silently take a seat next to him on the couch.

3 rounds of Mario Kart racing on the Nintendo Switch and Tenko is losing consecutively as he whines frustrated: ‘’Enough!’’

‘’I just don’t understand why you’re always losing.’’ You tell him, as far as you know he was unlocking the game levels with ease on his own.

‘’I don’t know, shit, you ask way too many questions today’’ he complains, ‘’I’ll go change, this suit is itching the fuck out of me’’ he continues as you get up.

He finds you scrolling on your phone, a towel wrapped around him, droplets falling from his hair, which he must’ve aggressively ruffled (in failed efforts to dry) as he literally drops his body onto yours, scaring you and making you drop your phone.

‘’Tenko, fuck agh!’’ You groan, ‘’my phone!’’

He was so annoying and on top of that soaking your shirt too.

‘’I’m sorry.’’ He smiles, he wasn’t really sorry, he missed you, he thought. Even though you were together the whole day, he still missed you. So much. He couldn’t get enough of you, any moment shared only made him more anxious for your next departure, he wished he could somehow glue you to his skin forever.

You playfully slapped his arm and he retaliated, pinching your nose as you pouted.

‘’Don’t pout.’’ He warns, ‘’I'll bite you.’’ But you don’t listen. He brings his mouth to yours as his teeth sink in your lower lip, pulling at it and letting it out softly.

‘’Ouch, you douche!’’ You fake pain but he knows he didn’t actually hurt you, he could never.

There was a moment where neither of you did anything, must’ve been less than a minute, before he leaned closer, mouths in close proximity as he noticed your eyes shut.

I want to kiss her, he thought and he did. Soft lips brought to yours, as you immediately kissed him back, cupping his wet neck and bringing his face even closer, deepening the kiss. His arms quivered, threatening to make him lose his balance and fall on top of you, he lost himself every time you kissed him.

His hand slid down your waist, positioning you higher on the couch as your hungry mouth searched for his again, needy breaths escaped your lips, a sight that made him feel the all too familiar pain in his groin, a towel was still draped around him and you were still in your outside clothes.

A peak across the room showed him the window curtains open.

‘’Give me a minute, baby.’’ He said as he got up to close them, returning to you with his arms stretched out, ready to move this somewhere more comfortable.

–

He was awakened by an asleep arm, your weight had fallen on it and he felt numb.

He gently tried to remove it but you moved around and whispered in a raspy voice, god, how much he loved that voice.

‘’What is it?’’ Your tone sounded anxious, were you afraid something was going to happen to him? Could it be that you cared that much?

Without a word he shushed you.

‘’It’s all right, go back to sleep.’’ He said moments later, a pain in his chest since he couldn’t tell you that actually yes, there was something on his mind.

‘’You know, you have to tell people how you feel, remember?’ You spoke so wisely, even after an interrupted slumber and he couldn't help but smile.

‘’I know baby, goodnight.’’ He said as you sighed and turned around.

For Tenko could not tell you that nothing compared to this, nothing like doing nothing with you and to admit this to himself was a big liability. He would tell you eventually, maybe he’d write it down, he found it easier, but on that day he chose to wrap his arms around you again, risking numbness, than to speak the words.

[sparklecarehospital]

an anecdote about my recent art

i figured i'd make a post about this, just cuz i know people have probably noticed it. this isn't in response to anything anyone said, i don't know if anyone is actually talking about this or not, it's more just me talking because i feel like sharing this with you guys.

i'm sure you've noticed that suddenly i'm making an influx of main comic art. for a long time, months and months, i had really struggled with being able to fixate on my characters in their natural state as opposed to the various AUs i've been working on.

that's not to say i "abandoned" the main comic, but it's more that i wasn't really drawing it for fun anymore. i still worked on pages, v4 is finished being drawn and v5 is in the works, but it became more of a work-only thing and my personal art almost never focused on the main comic versions of my OCs.

the reasons for this are... complicated. some of it was emotional, some of it was trauma that i'd rather not go into detail about, but for lack of better words i just wasn't as comforted or engaged as i was when drawing AU stuff. cometcare is the most important thing in my life and it always will be, and i guess i just was going through a period where i needed that comfort more than anything. my life has been hard lately for lots of reasons, and they make me feel safe and better.

this also meant i wasn't attached to the main comic as much anymore, as i wasn't drawing it for fun. but i want to change that. i want to be able to re-attach to my OCs the way they started and as they really are because that's what matters most in the grand scheme of things. i'll always have my silly AUs, but i don't want my emotional state or current trauma or horrors i'm experiencing to make me incapable of loving my OCs the way they actually are.

thank you guys for being patient with me as i go through this, i know it's probably made some people sad that i distanced the way i did and i'm really sorry. last night i realized how sad it made me too. i want to make it better. i'm not giving up on the AUs, i'll still make updates and art for them, it's not that, but i'm not going to make it the only thing i ever focus on anymore.

i love you guys. thank you for supporting me and my art and stories, regardless of what it is, it means more than you'll ever know

[mercurianchild]

hey beautiful,

could you make a post about Venus in 8th house? You’ve mentioned you have this placement and I do too! Thank you very much for your time. 🩷

🖤Venus in the 8th house🖤

TW: mentions of death and s*x

The most common thing I have seen is that this placement (along with scorpio Venus and Venus-Pluto aspects) is s*xualised and glamorised a lot. While it is true, that this placement gives an alluring and interesting aura, it’s not just that. Venus 8th house people have to offer so much more!

A lot of my friends and family members share this placement and we all share one thing: the ability to love so deeply that it hurts. This ability can also turn toxic or even turn into obsession if this placement is underdeveloped.

A lot of 8th housers also stay with people for longer than they should. Most of the times they have outgrown some situations or people, but they refuse to let go because of the feelings they feel. I’ve also been trough that many times. In hope that the spark will come back or that the people involved would change.

A common thing I’ve seen is that it is really hard to let go of people they love. I’ve seen this in friends AND family members that they just can’t let go of certain people where love was involved. For me, it’s still that one guy who I haven’t talked to for 5 months now. In the end, he hurt me. But he showed me what it’s like to be loved. I am still not over him and I know it will take some work to let go of him. With him, I experienced what I envisioned as love between two beings.

Venus in 8th house people are (like other 8th house placements) able to read people like a book. The gut feeling about others is never wrong. Intuition is high.

Could be more into trying extreme and intense things in bed like bdsm or playing with knives. 🔪💀⛓️

Very much into occultism and practising it. All my 8th house friends, for example, are in coven or practices witchcraft. Very into herbs and Hollis tub healing methods.

Which leads to the point that people with this placement are natural healers (if developed).

Natural understanding for psychology. Like really!!! Not just theoretical, but also being able to apply it in real life!

Constantly going through death and rebirth moments in life. A lot of ego deaths will happen.

On the other hand, this placement can bring a lot of hate and resentment from women (no matter if the individual is male or female). A lot of jealousy from other woman which makes it hard to find out who will stab you in the back when you’re not around. This can also lead to trust issues in friendships!

Feeling emotions so intense that it may be difficult to word them. Something that helped me was to find a creative way to let them out. Writing, painting or creating music are wonderful activities.

Red and darker colours look wonderful on these individuals (yes, this can vary depending on the rest of the chart and genetics)

Underdeveloped Venus in 8th house can make someone prone to be a pick me or a real meanie.

Either these individuals had some point of being bullied in teen years or them bullying others.

Constant feelings of so much depth. Whenever I’m around other 8th housers I feel so understood. It’s like a warm hug. We just know what you’re feeling.

I said it before, but the ability to heal… just by being there. Just the presence of these individuals is so intoxicating and loving!

Tend to have very dark humour and make jokes about inappropriate things.

Knack for taboo topics. No fear in discussing them.

Love to keep things private or even a secret. Like being involved in affairs just for the sake of it being a secret thing. I feel like some may enjoy something like that just for the thrill of it.

A lot of secret admirers!!

Can have issues with s*xuality and some may not be s*xually active until their late teen years or early adulthood. From what I’ve seen in friends, read online or even experiences myself, there can be also some unconscious trauma relating to one’s s*xuality.

Last but not least: these individuals are hard to forget, as they carry so much depth, magic and power… once they recognise their potential, it’s over for all them bitches trying to put them down!!

[faynthearted]

is this a safe space? because I need to have a (positive) rant but I might seem a bit unhinged in the process

but please, for the love of god, if you're a tianshan and/or He brothers fan and you're dying from the lack of 19 days content lately, let me put you on to something.

I've been trying not to talk about it because this show is a guilty (and nostalgic) pleasure of mine, but for the last week or two I've been obsessively rewatching teenage mutant ninja turtles (2012)

HEAR ME OUT. 🫵🏼

it's a nickelodeon show, yes, I know, but please. hear me out before you make a face, lol!

tmnt is one of those shows that had an established fanbase before its release so not only is the quality of the animation excellent, but the voice actors and writers do such an amazing job. the plot is well-planned and intentional, the show gets notably better as it goes on because of its growing success with its audience (it gets very obvious budget increases for each season lol), and the relationships. oh my god the characters' relationships. they're so top tier.

if you know me from my tianshan fics, you know that I'm obsessed with strained, resentful, angsty relationships that slowly improve as the characters learn to trust each other while experiencing strife and mutual trauma. it's practically the foundation of tianshan, and it's also the definition of the brother-brother relationship between raphael and leonardo in tmnt. and it's so fucking delicious every single time.

I don't want to spoil too much in case anyone actually reads this post and decides to watch tmnt for the first time, but basically at the beginning of the show (and in all other adaptations of tmnt, as far as I'm aware) raphael resents the fact that leonardo is made the leader of their team. they butt heads all the time, they can never agree, raph is a stubborn/reckless hothead and leo is (occasionally) an insufferable, self-righteous golden child in their family. they’re literally red vs blue — their dynamic could not be more oppositional.

but at the same time, they're each other's right-hand man??? it's complicated. as the two oldest(?) siblings in the family (as well as the most skilled siblings), they kinda need each other and they hate that they do — at least raph does. and for a while, their relationship goes up and down over and over again until bam — ✨trauma✨. and I won't spoil what the trauma is. but it's so fucking delicious. the cinematography and voice acting of certain scenes in the season finales keep me up at night

for a nickelodeon show, I'm impressed by the depth of the plot and characters. it's very reminiscent of the complexity of atla's plot and characters. and yes, I've only mentioned raph & leo's relationship so far, but that's only because I tend to hyperfixate on two characters in every fandom I'm in, lol. but all the characters are so meaningful and the brothers' relationships with each other make me want to slam my head against concrete because it makes me feel so much. especially raphael and michelangelo's relationship, too. iykyk.

the show is so silly but also so angsty and also so stupid but also so sincere. the vibes really do remind me of 19 days in so many ways. the boys in tmnt are 15 years old, much like the boys in 19 days. michaelangelo is basically jian yi and raphael is basically guan shan. leonardo is kinda like zheng xi, if zheng xi was more assertive and expressive. but no one's like he tian, lol. sorry. he's a beast of his own. (unless, maybe, another character named karai is comparable to him? you tell me).

anyway. whatever the voice actors, writers, and animators were getting paid throughout the show's production wasn't fucking enough. there was clearly so much heart put into the show because tmnt has been a beloved franchise for a long time and nickelodeon was not messing around when they decided to take it on.

another bonus point is that the episodes are only 20ish minutes long, there are 20+ episodes in every season, there are 5 seasons, and the show is completed. you won't be left on a cliff hanger. you can binge to your heart's content like I've been doing. and usually the season finale episodes are longer than the normal ones (they're split into two parts), which always means shit goes down. god it's so fantastic.

if you decide to watch tmnt and know nothing about it, I recommend you do not seek out spoilers. because there are many spoilers and plot twists. push through the cringe and silly moments (much like we sometimes have to do with 19 days lol) and eventually you'll get to the heart of the characters/plot. and my god, it's so worth it!

tmnt was the first fandom I ever wrote fanfic for, over a decade ago. I was watching it as episodes were being actively released on a weekly basis. and it's been so long since I've touched the tmnt fandom, so it feels like I'm watching the show for the first time again. I only have vague memories of significant plot points/scenes, so it's been such a ride to slowly remember how everything plays out. and I'm kicking myself for not rewatching tmnt sooner, because I clearly forgot how special it was to me at a certain point in my life!

the show is so feel-good and relaxing (but it does have its stressful moments, don't get me wrong). if you've got time to spare, give it a shot and let me know what you think! I'm only at the beginning of season 3, so I'm still working through the episodes myself! :)

if you want to know where you can watch it for free, DM me! <3

[seramilla]

So human au before they moved in with Carmilla whenever Emily had a nightmare or was feeling bad Sera let her sleep with her and cuddle up with her it always made Emily feel better to cuddle up with her sister and just be held she suspected that it also made Sera feel better. Whenever Sera seemed upset or overly stressed Emily would offer but Sera always said no trying to deny that things were worse than normal. Eventually Emily started pretending to have nightmares whenever she thought Sera was overly stressed or upset so far she hasn't caught on but is worried that her concerns are scaring Emily and affecting her.

Sera will be the first to admit -- despite Emily being the most easy-going child a guardian could ask for, raising her hadn't always been sugar and rainbows. Adjusting to life as a working adult had been quite a jarring experience to the young college dropout. Being a parent responsible for another entire human life, well... that had been something else entirely.

Daytime was easier, in retrospect. She would drop Emily off at daycare at the ass crack of dawn, put in her 8 hours at the office, and then leave in the late afternoon to pick her sister up and take her home. Emily was always a delight for her teachers -- she never fussed at mealtimes, always played nice with the other children, and went down for a nap like the sandman himself had knocked her out cold.

She was happy as could be on the ride home, and during dinner, and in the few hours that Sera got to play with her before bed. The sisters would go on many fantastical adventures with what dolls and toys Sera could afford. Emily would giggle like a maniac, ask Sera for "uppies!" when the young girl was feeling needy, and ultimately fall asleep in her arms after a bedtime story.

Daytime and its waning hours were easier. It was nighttime that often proved troublesome. Not that she blamed Emily in the least. Not after what her little sister had been through.

It didn't happen every night. Not even most nights. But once or twice a week, usually at ungodly hours of the morning, when the world was dead and every other living thing was sound asleep, Sera would be awoken suddenly by a cry somewhere in the apartment.

Back when she'd slept in the living room, because she'd given the bedroom to Emily...sounds of sobbing and abject fear would get closer and closer to her from down the hallway. Tiny footfalls would draw nearer, ever and ever faster, until a tiny body would be trying desperately to climb onto the futon next to her. Little grasping hands would grip her face, and hot breaths would brush against her cheeks, screaming her name.

"Sera! Sera! Up! Want up!"

The first few times it happened, Sera had been terrified, worried her sister was in physical pain. That she'd somehow hurt herself wandering around at night, or got into something she shouldn't. After the next few times it happened, she learned to stop panicking. It didn't help Emily, and only got her even more worked up.

After Sera learned what those tiny hands felt like on her face, and how the weight of the futon would dip whenever her sister wanted "up!", the older woman would reach out for Emily in the dark, and pull her up onto the thin mattress, drawing her close into her arms.

"Ssshh! Ssshh! Emi, my love, you'll wake the neighbors. It's okay. You're all right. Tell me what happened?"

"Monster! The monster! It crash! I scared!"

Sera learned early on that even though Emily was too young to understand exactly what happened to her that night, Emily still had vivid dreams of the moment their parents died. She can't imagine what that felt like...being such a tiny, helpless person, strapped into a car seat, experiencing such a violent event. Then having to be dragged out of a car by the jaws of life, and handed off to complete strangers she'd never met before, with the flashing lights of ambulances and screams of police sirens all around...

Fuck, even an adult would have lingering trauma after surviving something like that. Let alone a baby. Sera is astonished Emily can even function as well as she does, all things considered.

But these late-night episodes...even though they ring with the echoes of past trauma...these moments were just for them. If Sera had been completely honest with herself, they were reminders that she was needed. That Emily loved her, specifically sought her out for warmth and comfort, and trusted her to soothe the pain and fear away.

Sera got used to having Emily beside her at night. They'd fall asleep, and awaken to a world that was much more beautiful and bright than the things that lingered in the dark, that were waiting to snatch up little girls without warning. At some point, it became a sort of comfort for Sera, knowing that Emily would be there when she woke up, all snotty-nosed and drooling on their shared pillow. She'd have to drag them both out of bed, and get ready for the day, but it was well worth it.

So when time happened, and Sera eventually got them an apartment with their own rooms, Emily grew out of her incessant night terrors. She was getting older. She was growing up, and starting school, as children are wont to do. More often than not, she stayed in her own bed at night. All night.

Sera began to feel... against her own will and better judgement... utterly and selfishly begrieved.

Sera's world was getting more complicated. Her job was more demanding, the bills were piling up, and she didn't make enough to cover them. While she was still relatively trapped in the same old cycle for years on end, Emily herself was changing. Every day, her little sister was evolving, and coming into her own. Even though she knew it was completely unwarranted, and entirely foolish to feel this way about a child...Sera couldn't help but feel her sister slowly but surely pulling away.

Not physically or emotionally. Just in the way she interacted with the world, and the way her independence kicked into full throttle by the time she was 7 years old.

Emily was leaving Sera behind. And even though Emily would never admit it to her big sister, the introspective, empathetic little girl understood far more than Sera gave her credit for.

She sensed the stress that Sera was going through. Felt it in the way Sera worked longer hours, and forced herself to talk to her after school. The way she could barely stay awake long enough to help Emily with her homework. Every time Emily would ask Sera, "Are you okay?", Sera would just give her a feigned, forced smile, and pretend everything was fine.

"I'm okay, Emi," Sera would say, despite the clear weight of the bags under her eyes, and the pallor of her skin in the unnatural light of the kitchen. It was obvious Sera wasn't okay, but Emily trusted her sister implicitly. Sera took care of her. Provided for her. Her big sister always encouraged her to tell her when something was wrong. To always ask for help when she needed it. She would never lie to Emily about something like this.

Would she?

Emily didn't mean to deceive Sera. Not really. It wasn't really lying when it was a half-truth. In the way that logic worked in the mind of a 7-year-old, Emily reminded herself that lots of kids she knew threw tantrums, or faked being sick, or worse. This was nothing, compared to all that.

Right?

One evening -- the night before Emily knew her sister would be interviewing for a big, important job in the city the next day -- she managed to stay awake until she heard Sera settle herself into bed. Emily waited another 30 minutes or so after that, to not make it obvious. She stayed awake as long as she could, until the weight of her own eyelids threatened to force her asleep before she could execute her plan.

With her last burst of energy, Emily forced a convincing wail out of her mouth. It came naturally, after a few minutes. She still remembered what the dreams felt like, and drew upon those memories. It wasn't hard. They didn't haunt her as much anymore, but they were still there, sitting behind her brain, ready to fuel the performance of the century.

She didn't wait too long after that to go to Sera; she was afraid she wouldn't be convincing, if Sera had to get up to check on her. She rushed into Sera's room, not bothering with the light, and crawled into bed beside her sister. Sera's new bed was much smaller than the futon had been, but there was still more than enough room for her to crawl under the covers and cuddle up next to her. Like when she was little.

"Sera, wake up! Please! I had the dream again!"

Sera seemed genuinely shocked, when her sister suddenly manifested in the bed beside her. Not having been forced out of a dead sleep for close to a year at that point, it genuinely took her several seconds to comprehend what was happening. Emily was smashed up right next to her face, hot tears pouring down her cheeks, like they hadn't in such a long time...

Sera's arms shot out and gripped her tightly, almost before her brain finished catching up with what was happening. Emily continued sobbing into her shoulder, and Sera's hind brain took control, like an instinct. In her half-asleep stupor, Sera didn't even have to think before starting to comfort the little girl.

"Oh, oh, my Emi! It was just a dream, darling. I'm here. Come here."

Sera scooted back in the bed, up against the wall, so Emily had plenty of room on the mattress. She'd traded that old futon for a new twin bed some time ago. But Emily was still small enough to fit in there with her, and honestly, with even tighter quarters, it just meant the girl cuddled up even closer to her than usual.

"Do you want to tell me about it?" Sera asked, yawning, and stroking Emily's cheeks. She was doing a terrible job of hiding how tired she truly was; fighting against the dirty beast that was the need for sleep, to be there for her little sister once again.

"...No," Emily said, bluntly. She was exhausted, too, and didn't want to have to pretend to be in distress any more than she already was. "Just hold me, Sera. Please."

"Okay..."

Sera held Emily close to her, for the rest of the night, until the incessant blaring of her phone alarm went off the next morning. Upon waking to the fresh hell that was her daily routine, Sera was pleasantly surprised to feel more rested than she had in a long while. Thank heaven for that, she'd thought. She was going to need all the extra energy she could spare that day.

As she and Emily prepared to leave, piled into the car, and headed toward Emily's school, the smile on Sera's face was a touch more genuine than it had been lately. As they pulled up to that big, fancy building that Emily called her school, Emily opened her door to get out, but Sera held on to the child's arm, pausing her departure for just a moment longer.

Sera smiled and pulled her sister closer, to land a perfectly aimed, maternal sort of kiss directly to her cheek. All lips, with an exaggerated "mwah!" at the end of it. Emily blushed profusely.

"Sera, stoooop!" Emily whined. "Not in front of my friends!"

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" Sera insisted, laughing. "I just love you so much."

Emily wiped the invisible essence of her older sister off her cheek with defiance. She closed the car door, and hoisted her heavy backpack further up her shoulder. For some reason, the girl insisted on taking all of her workbooks home after school every night, to absolutely make sure she got all her homework done. For better or worse, she really was learning to be as dedicated to academics as her sister.

Before Emily could walk away, Sera beamed at her. She blew her another kiss, and despite herself, Emly grinned and blew one back.

"I love you, Em!" Sera said. "Things will be better soon. I just know it. I have a good feeling about today!"

Emily smiled, and waved at Sera as she put the car into drive. "I love you, too! Do your best!"

Sera watched and made sure Emily entered the school building safely before she pulled away. She had her interview first thing that morning that she had a really good feeling about.

She guessed she could be back to her regular office job by 10:00, if she played her cards right. She'd told her boss she had a dentist appointment that morning, and Sera was determined to stick to that story, whether she got this new job or not. What her boss didn't know, wouldn't hurt him.

[kitixie]

Unknown / Nth (T.S.)

hey y’all! this is just a little one shot inspired by the new hozier song, unknown / nth. i highly highly recommend!!

word count: 1.2k

warnings: this is SAD. like, sad sad.

A marriage to Tommy Shelby was not for the faint of heart. He was a liar, a secret keeper, a killer. He was many things a man should not be. But God, did you love him. He hung your moon and stars, he was the rising and setting sun, and your world revolved around him. He was it for you, and you thought you were it for him too.

Until Grace.

Until Grace came along, and Tommy started staying out late, saying things that your Tommy never would have said to you. He became hateful, cold, and distant towards you. Instead of being the sun, he was now the darkness. The kind that swept in at night and stole all signs of happiness and joy, the kind that pillaged until you begged for a shred of the man you knew to come back. It’s funny how true colors shine in darkness.

By the time Tommy began to change, you were in deep. With him, with the Shelbys, with all of it. You and Tommy had experienced things that would bring most couples together. You had felt the loss of two children inside your womb, and Tommy had been there for all of it. You had felt the death of your father, yet he had stayed constant. You moved homes, you survived fights, you survived wars. You survived. Maybe that was the issue, you were just surviving. How long could you act like he wasn’t becoming someone you didn’t recognize? How long could you last, when every night he came home smelling like her, your heart cracked?

“Thomas?” You called, hearing the front door shut.

“Yeah, Y/N, ‘ts just me,” he responded blandly.

You could hear footsteps, but they sounded like they were stumbling. He was drunk, once again, which meant he would come into your shared room bearing the scent of Grace, once again.

You watched him as he footed his way through the bedroom door, tripping over things that weren’t there.

“Thomas, are you drunk? This is the third night this week, and it’s only Wednesday.”

“And what if I am, Y/N? Who cares?” He spat, narrowing his eyes at you.

“I care, Tommy. I care,” you let out in a whisper, a tear slipping from your eye.

You had set a rule for yourself when he first started going out. No crying in front of Thomas, especially not over things that Thomas did. If he saw you cry, he’d work his way in, feeding off your emotions like a succubus. You couldn’t let him do that, you had to keep him at an arms length, especially right now. Your heart ached for him, for its home inside of his hands. More than anything, you wanted to tear out the dreadful thing and hand over to him, let him fully destroy it. It had always belonged to him, ever since you were school children. The Tommy you had grown up knowing, the one you had dated since you were 16, the one you had married, was gone. He no longer existed, yet his body stood in front of you. It was cruel thing, to be married and chained to someone like that. To be bound by so much trauma and grief and love, yet to know they are not the same person who shared those feelings with you. To feel so close, yet be reminded that you are so far away by the cheap perfume and lipstick smeared on his shirt collar.

“What are you crying ‘bout, Y/N? You’ve nothin’ to be sad about.” He spoke, not having compassion, but annoyance.

A million feelings boiled in your chest. Anger, grief, passion, pride. But the one that was leading them all, the one that ruled every word about to come from your mouth, was love.

“I’m crying because I miss you, Tommy. I miss you, and you’re off doing God knows what with that bar keep, Grace. I can’t stand it, Tommy. To see her have what’s mine. Do you know what it feels like to be inside my body? Do you know I could break beneath the weight of the goodness and love I still carry for you?”, you screamed, letting the feelings flow like a free river, “I feel like I’ve been caged, Thomas. I feel like I’ve been banished to a room, only able to watch our lives through glass panes. I can’t touch you, I can’t hold you, I can barely speak to you. But I love you, God I love you Thomas. I wish you knew what it was like.”

You had stood from your seat on the bed, letting your hair fall around you as you sunk to the floor. Your hand cradled your face, drying your own tears. You had always been able to be alone, always being fine when Tommy had to go away for a while. But this time, you couldn’t tell if Tommy would ever come back, not really. He was totally different.

Tommy stared at you, a blank look on his face as he observed your crumpled form. Your shoulders shook, and you let heaving sobs fall from your mouth. Was it worth it to stay here? To let this love you had once known control everything you could ever know? How would the two of you fair this storm? How would you not only survive, but come out thriving? Was it worth the weight of carrying this burden, of knowing that Tommy was disloyal?

“I don’t know what to do, Love. I’m lost.” He finally spoke, his voice coming out a whisper.

“Tommy, I would cross the earth for you. I would walk so far to take the injury of knowing you. I just need you to reach out a hand for me. I would give you everything, and you know that, you have to know that.”

He had to know.

“I know, Y/N, I know. I’m sorry, Love, for how I’ve been acting.”

-

Tommy had agreed to some counseling after your breakdown, and not much had changed. He still came home smelling like her, kept staying out, just now he went on weekends and swore it was with his brothers. He kept trying to trick you, and he truly thought he was getting away with it.

Not anymore. Now, as you stood in your bedroom, stuffing clothing into a small suitcase, no tears were in your eyes. No feelings were in your heart except anger and betrayal. Once again, you heard the stumbling footsteps of Tommy Shelby. You had become used to the sounds by now, being able to accurately tell that it was him and where he was on the staircase.

He finally entered your room, a look of shock crossing his face.

“Y/N, what are ya doin’?” He slurred. Typical.

“I’m leaving, Thomas. I’m leaving Birmingham, and I’m leaving you.” You said, keeping a calm tone.

“No, ya aren’t. You’re my wife.” He grumbled, sharpening his words.

“Thomas, I don’t want to be your wife. I won’t lay with you while your with her.” You zipped the suitcase.

“What the ‘ell are ya talkin’ about! You don’t know anythin’!” He screamed, his face redding.

You kept calm. You had already had this fight in your head a thousand times.

“I am leaving, Thomas. I gave you my heart, and now I see it’s pieces stuck in your teeth. I am done.”

You gathered your suitcase, and left the home you had built together, finally finished with trying to know and understand Tommy Shelby. There are some people who are better unknown.

[lainiespicewrites]

Someone to take her home

Hey guys so I wrote this a while ago! This is a Henry one shot it an OFC because I'll die on the self insert hill! LOL it gives me so much comfort. Is that weird IDK. Anyway this story is kind of heavy. I wrote this to get out some feelings about an SA that I had experienced. I've always been someone that if I'm stressed I rewrite the situation with a comforting outcome or a better outcome to release the stress or make myself feel better. I wanted to sort of write myself a way to get some comfort from the trauma. And I hope having a character like this sweet soft version of Henry may help some of you too. I never reached out for myself for help and maybe I should have but if you experienced something please talk to someone. If you need someone to talk to or just want a place to let it out my DM's are a safe space <3 Just as disclaimer this doesn't mention any of the actual situation that happened to me. Just a filler to get out the emotion. Still this is a fluff with lots of love and sweet gentle young Henry bc I just know in my soul this was and is how he is as a person!

Warnings: Light Cursing, Trauma, Mentions of sexual assault. (Please reach out for help even if it's just talking to someone about your situation. My DM's are open if y'all wanna talk after this <3)

Description: OFC goes to college party and meets Henry and they become fast friends. and he helps her when things turn bad with a guy he warned her about.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I stared at myself in the mirror one more time. I needed to leave soon. If I looked any longer I would find something I hated and talk myself out of going. So I grabbed my bag and turned off my bedroom light. Nervous didn’t begin to describe how I was feeling. I’d never been to a party like this before. Sure I’d been out a few times in high school. But it was usually theater cast parties. And one time my friend and I stole some captain morgan from her parents liquor cabinet. But this was on an entirely different scale. 

Most of my drinking was a night in with the girls with wine or movie night drinking games. God I sound so boring. It’s not that I don’t enjoy partying. I was genuinely excited to be invited out tonight. Lilly and I had worked together for a few assignments in class. And we would say hi when we ran into each other in the dorms. But, I never expected to get a text this afternoon inviting me to her boyfriend's party. Purdue was an incredibly large campus. Upwards of 40,000 plus students. Yet somehow Lilly’s boyfriend Riley Hardesty seemed to know everyone. He was known for throwing huge parties all year. They weren’t exclusive. You could just be driving through the neighborhood and stop in.  But she told me a friend of  Riley’s had asked her about me. 

Matt Parker. I know of him. He’s in my English 204 lecture. But we’ve never talked. But he is really attractive. So maybe something good would come from all of this! I decided just to walk as my dorm wasn’t far from the house Riley and his roommates lived in. It was a cool night in mid october and I was definitely regretting the little black denim skirt I was wearing. I was smart enough to wear a cardigan but it was still cold. Thank God it's only 2 blocks down. I bit my lip nervously. Am I even going to know anyone here? Anyone I actually talk to? It’s too late now. I already got dressed and ready. I walked here. I have to go through with this. 

I took a deep breath and walked inside. Things were already full swing. I could hear the music outside before I even opened the door. No one seemed to notice me and honestly I was okay with that. I looked around scanning the room. Almost everyone had a drink in hand, standing around in groups talking. The smell of  pot hit me immediately as I started to walk through the house. I wasn’t  the least bit surprised. I made my way to the kitchen where I found multiple drinks, alcohol and mixers available. I kept it simple and grabbed a wine cooler. Something fruity. I was definitely going to need a buzz if I was going to be here longer than 5 minutes.

 I pushed my way out of the kitchen and found a quiet corner to drink and observe for a while. I was busy listening to some guys talk about last weekend's football game when I heard someone’s voice. And I realized they were talking to me. I shifted my eyes seeing a guy standing next to me. He was maybe 6’1, blue eyes, and brown hair with soft curls. I gave him a gentle smile,

“I’m sorry, what was that?” I asked. He smiled and chuckled softly. His smile was beautiful. 

“I uh, Just noticed your shirt. Are you a Def Leppard fan?” He asked. I looked down. I completely forgot that was the shirt I was wearing. I just thought a band t-shirt would look cute with the skirt. But

“Yeah! Well I know a few of their songs! My Mom was in her 20’s in the 80’s and she loved them!” I said. 

“She has good taste! They’re awesome! Are you here by yourself? Not trying to be creepy I just noticed you were by yourself over here and I wanted to make sure you were alright,” He rambled. I nodded.

“I look that out of place huh? Yeah, I um. I’m friends with Riley’s girlfriend. Well not friends necessarily. But I know her. Anyway she invited me because of some friend of Riley’s but I don’t know this isn’t normally my scene. Wow that was a lot,” I blushed. “Sorry,” I mumbled. 

“For?” He smiled, raising an eyebrow. “We’re talking. I like getting to know people! And I totally get it. This can kind of be a lot sometimes. I actually came with some friends but I needed to step away from all the crazy for a second. I’m Henry by the way.” He smiled, extending his hand. I took it and He squeezed mine softly. 

“Alayna!” I said. 

“It’s nice to meet you!” He smiled. “Which one of Riley’s friends? If you don't mind me asking,” He raised an eyebrow. 

“Matt Parker,” I said bluntly. “You know him,” Henry took a sip of his beer and nodded. 

“I do, He’s alright. We’re sort of friends I suppose. He may have good intentions. Listen, I know you don’t need my advice, but just be careful around him. I don’t know what you were expecting with him or hoping for. But he can be a little, well, if I had a daughter I wouldn’t trust him with her. But I could be wrong. I’m sorry, that was a bit much. I don't want to ruin your evening,” He said. 

“For?” I smirked copying his face from earlier. “You seem to have pure intentions. Just looking out for someone. That’s really kind of you actually. I honestly don't know what I was expecting. But I can handle myself. I didn’t really come out tonight for him. I wanted to actually let loose and have fun for once. I’ve been trying to have more adventures, meet new people, make new friends.” I smiled looking him in the eyes on that last part. He gave me a big smile and held out his beer bottle to cheers me. 

“To new friends,” He spoke and we clinked our bottles together. “I like you, I mean talking to you.” He said. 

“I like talking to you too! I was honestly super anxious about coming tonight. I was worried I’d be too anxious and awkward to have fun or it would be too much. Because this is a lot. I’m 100% sure I saw someone do coke off the kitchen counter. But I’m actually enjoying myself. Right now anyway.” I laughed. Henry chuckled. 

“Good! Well, I’m going to go find my friends but, what's your number? I’ll send you a text real quick and if you get overwhelmed or uncomfortable  or need to escape all of this for a bit come find me! Or text me. I’d be happy to be there for you.  And we can just chill out for a while.” I smiled and gave him my phone number. It was nice to meet someone as kind as Henry. You don’t meet a lot of people that… genuine and gentlemanly in places like this. He gave my shoulder a gentle squeeze before he walked off to find his friends. I wandered off to get another drink while I was standing in the kitchen waiting to grab another wine cooler. I felt someone lay their arm across my shoulder. 

“Hey gorgeous,” I recognized Matt’s voice. I gave him a soft smile. 

“Hi,” I spoke. 

“I’m glad you came tonight, You having a good time,” He asked, clearly buzzed. 

“Yeah,” I said tentatively “One hell of a party!” I laughed. 

“For sure!” He smiled and moved to the side of me taking his arm off my shoulder. “What are you drinking babe?” He asked. 

“Just Mike's lemonade.” I chuckled awkwardly. 

“Aw come on girl you can do something stronger than that huh?” He joked. I shook my head.

“I probably could but I’d rather not get sick.” I said. 

“Aw well come on at least do a shot with me?” He asked, giving me a puppy dog face and pouting. “Just tequila, we got training wheels!” He added. 

“I don’t know… I don’t wanna get too crazy,” I said. 

“Nah, it’ll be alright, it’ll just loosen you up a bit!” He spoke already pouring the shots. He slid one over to me. And a piece of lime. “Ready?” I picked up the shot and stared at it questioningly. 

“Alright,” He smiled. We clicked the glasses and hit them against the table before taking the shot. It was super bitter. I immediately followed it with the lime. But it didn’t help much. When I looked up again Matt had gotten me another Mike’s from the cooler.

“Atta girl!” He smirked. He took a step closer and I took the drink from him. Then I heard someone call his name from across the house. They were starting another game of beer pong. “That’s my que babe, but wait for me yeah? I’ll come back to you after this game!” He smirked and left a wet kiss on my cheek before running off to join the boys. 

Charming is certainly not a word I would use to describe him. But he’s nice. And he’s just trying to make sure I have fun. There’s no harm in that. I wandered around the party again. I opened up my new bottle and tossed the cap on a nearby coffee table. I thought about watching the beer pong game but I honestly wasn’t interested. I found the door leading to the backyard and saw there was a bonfire going. I stepped outside and found an empty seat by the fire. I watched it crackle for a bit and took a long sip of my drink. I felt a warmth inside me and knew it was coming from the alcohol. I started to relax as I listened to the fire and the white noise of the people chatting around me. It was a gorgeous night.

“Hey!” I heard a voice from behind me. “Funny meeting you out here!” Henry spoke, pulling up a chair next to me.

“Hey!” I said excitedly. “It’s calm out here. I like it!” I said. Henry smiled. 

“I do too, I love a good fire. Fuels the soul.” He half joked. 

“ I love the smell! Is that weird?” I laughed. 

“No,” He chuckled softly “Not at all! So, besides the band on that very cool shirt, What other music do you like?” Henry asked, leaning back in his chair and taking a long swig of his beer. 

“Oh all kinds. I’m a big lover of the stuff from the 70s though! Elton John, Heart, the Beatles, I guess they’re technically 60’s. I know it’s kind of old school but. I feel like they just don’t make music like that anymore.” I explained. 

“Classic! I like it,” He smiled. 

“What about you?” I asked. 

“Oh I’m all over the place too. I’m actually a big country fan!” He smirked. 

“I wouldn’t have expected that from you but I respect it. It’s not my favorite genre but there are definitely some good ones there!” I smiled. Henry and I chatted for a while. We talked about our majors. He's a history major. Where we’re from, he has an accent but I didn’t want to ask and be weird about it. He told me he’s from the UK. We talked about books, history and our friends. It was nice. A little while later I felt an arm around my shoulder again. I knew it was Matt. 

“There she is! Did you think I forgot about you babe?” He asked. 

“No,” I smiled blushing softly. He smiled. 

“Hey Henry! Are you having a good time, man?” He asked. Henry nodded and finished his beer. 

“Yeah! Actually I should go get another one. It was nice talking to you Alayna!” He smiled at me before he got up and left. I don’t know why but I could tell Henry wasn’t the biggest fan of Matt. He said they were friends earlier but I think he was just trying to be nice

I was shaken from the thought when I heard Matt’s voice again. 

“Hey, follow me!” He said enthusiastically. 

“Okay,” I smiled. I got up and followed him back inside. He led us upstairs and down the hall to what I assume was his room. 

“Too many people out there, I wanted to be alone with you,” He smiled. 

“That’s really sweet! It is pretty crowded.” I said. 

“Yeah,” He said blankly. “Are you enjoying the party?” He asked. 

“I am,” I said half telling the truth. I enjoyed talking to Henry. 

“God you’re so gorgeous,” He said. “I always want to talk to you in class but you always leave so quickly I never get the chance.” He said. 

“Thank you,” I blushed. 

“Can I kiss you?” He asked. I don’t know if I wanted it or if it was the alcohol but I nodded. He smirked and leaned in kissing me on the lips. It was gentle at first but then he quickly started using tongue. I felt kind of awkward. So I backed away. “Oh sorry, you okay?” he asked. 

“Yeah,” I lied. He just nodded and went back to kissing me. I kissed him back a bit but then I felt him start to feel me up. I froze. I really didn’t want that. He moved his hand under my shirt and I stopped him. 

“Uh Matt, I really don’t know about this.” I said nervously. He pulled back 

“It’s fine, nobody's gonna come in, don't worry about it.” He said and started kissing my neck. Oh god this sucks. 

“No I mean. I don’t… want to do this.” I stuttered. 

“Come on, it’ll be fun babe, it’ll be alright.” He kept feeling me up and continued kissing me. I felt stuck. He pushed himself against me, grinding into me. He moaned. I swallowed hard. Fuck, I really didn’t want this. 

“No, Matt, I really don’t want to.” I said again. 

“Shhh just go with it.” he said, shushing me. “You’ll enjoy it, I promise.” He said, sliding his hand under my skirt and rubbing his fingers against me. 

“No, stop Matt,” I said again, my voice quivering. He was definitely stronger than me. He used his other hand to take himself out of his shorts and he grabbed my hand putting it on him while he kept touching me, forcing his fingers inside. It hurt. I don’t know how but finally I found the strength to push him away from me. He stumbled back and fell against the bed and I ran out of the room. I could feel the tears stinging in my eyes already but I had to get out of this house. I quickly ran down the stairs and out the front door. Matt was pretty drunk so I don’t even think he tried to follow me. I walked a little way down the street and stopped letting out a sob. What the hell just happened. How did I let that happen? How could I have been stupid enough to trust him or follow him? I didn’t know what to do. I probably should have headed back to the dorm but I didn’t want to be alone right now. I took to my phone trying to think of who to talk to. 

I saw I had a text. It was Henry. “Hey it’s me! Henry I mean lol feel free to text me anytime.” I sent him a quick text taking a deep breath and trying to pull myself together. I didn’t want him to see me like this. I was so stupid. He tried to warn me. 

“Hey, it’s Alayna, where are you?” I sent it. To my surprise he responded almost immediately. 

“By the fire, You okay?” it read. 

“Would you wanna go on a walk with me?” I asked. There’s no way I could go back there. 

“Sure :) where are you?” 

“On the front sidewalk like 3 houses down toward campus.” 

“Be right there!” true to his word about 2 minutes later I saw him walking down the sidewalk toward me. 

“How are you?” He asked. 

“Good,” I nodded absentmindedly. 

“Were you leaving?” He asked.

I um,” I stuttered “Yeah, it was just… too much. I was gonna head home. I feel stupid I was just gonna walk home. I'll be fine, I’ll let you have fun. I don’t wanna interrupt your night.” I rambled. 

“No! Please do! I’d be happy to walk you home. Talking with you was the most fun I had tonight actually.” He stated simply. I smiled weakly.

“I’m glad.” I said. 

“Are you alright?” He asked me. I sighed trying not to get emotional. 

“Yeah, just a little overwhelmed and tired.” I lied. We walked in silence for a bit. I couldn’t believe how kind he was. The fact that he would leave his friends to walk me home. He was genuinely concerned about me. That feeling made me even more overwhelmed and finally after everything I could help but start crying. I felt like I had no control over my body as I started to sob. I felt my shoulders start to shake. Henry stopped and put his hands on my shoulders.

“Alayna what's wrong?” He asked me. I tried so hard to speak.

“He wouldn’t.. And I said… no, but he kept…” it all came out in broken sobs. Henry didn’t say anything. He just pulled me into him and hugged me tightly. After a few seconds. I started to calm down and tried to steady my breathing. 

“Shh it’s alright,  just breathe.” I heard him say. I slowed my breathing. “Did he touch you?” He asked gently, trying not to upset me again. I couldn’t speak, I just nodded. Henry went stiff. I looked up and saw his jaw was clenched. “Mother fucker,” He mumbled quietly under his breath. Then he spoke louder “Do you want to go talk to someone? Like report it?” He asked. Again his voice was gentle. I shook my head. 

“I can’t, I know I should but I really can’t, not now.” I said. He nodded. 

“Okay, well let's get you home.” He said. I started to walk again. Henry kept an arm around me as we walked. We were quiet the whole way there. He walked me all the way to the door. Wanting to make sure I got in okay.

“Thank you,” I said. But just as he turned to leave I grabbed his hand. “Wait, please don’t go.” I said, trying not to sound desperate. Not that I had the energy to care. 

“You want me to stay?” he asked. I nodded. 

“Yeah, no, I .. I don’t .. You don’t have to, I’ll be okay.” I said. 

“Hey,” He paused, grabbing my hand. “It’s okay, I don’t mind.” So I took off my shoes and slipped into the bathroom to change into some shorts. I laid in my bed and Henry sat next to me. “Do you want to watch something?” He asked. I nodded. And turned on my TV scrolling aimlessly. I stopped on some old 90’s sitcom. 

“Thank you, for staying,” I said. 

“You shouldn’t be alone right now. And I meant what I said. I had more fun talking to you tonight than with anyone else.” He smiled sympathetically. 

“I did too,” I said.  I sat up going to kiss him but he stopped me.

“Not tonight, darling. Believe me I would love to kiss you. But I think you’ll regret it later if you do this now. I like you. I’m not going anywhere. Let's take this slow. You’ve been through a lot tonight. I’ll still be here when you’re ready. But I think tonight you need to rest.” he said. The universe gave me Henry tonight. If I hadn’t ran into him. I’d have been alone after being sexually assaulted by a guy I barely know. Any other guy wouldn’t have treated me like him. He was so gentle and respectful. He was genuinely looking out for my best interest when he could’ve taken advantage of my vulnerability. I just nodded.

“I’m sorry that was stupid.” I sighed. 

“No, it wasn’t” he put his arm around me pulling me into his side and I naturally rested my head on his chest. “You don’t need to apologize. Try to get some rest.” He spoke gently. I could hear his heartbeat and my breath slowed to match the rhythm. Eventually so did he. I looked up to find him asleep with his arm still around me. I settled in snuggling into his side. All the noise around me slowly faded away and I finally got to rest, falling asleep in Henry’s arms.

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That’s it you guys please let me know what you think. I love you all so much! You’ve shown my writing so much love 🥰

[findmeinthefallair]

As Hunter puts the work in to recover and heal, looking back on Belos's 'kindness' in offering him a staff, taking him in, and providing the opportunity to be special as the Golden Guard...will be confusing and will involve seemingly conflicting emotions.

Having that treatment from his 'uncle' was the only reference point of feeling loved, while experiencing terror deeper down. This lasted for years before he met Luz and co.

He has overall spent less time in the new framework of healthy found family, than the years in the Castle.

I was looking at scenes from a couple of movies - the Black Widow movie and also Blade Runner 2049 (spoilers for both movies ahead, obviously) - as psychology references to see how two other fictional characters recalled their confusing but significant memories.

These examples carry some big concepts, one of which is that we "recall with our feelings". Not with pure impersonal logic that neatly trims away false info and discards it. If only it were that easy to dust our hands clean this way when healing from trauma.

In Black Widow, Yelena is the character who wears her heart on her sleeve the most, like Hunter naturally does. When confronted with the revelation that her happy childhood was staged, naturally Yelena feels betrayed:

(the GIF file for above was too big so lol I just screencapped a still frame from it)

But she quickly makes a conscious decision on how she wants to view those good memories, when hearing her sister Natasha saying it was all fake. This is perhaps her most important line in the movie:

She still chose to believe it had all been real. She is actively claiming the meaning that her good childhood had provided for her. Choosing what kind of lens she'd like to view those memories through. Defending that good meaning. Because her life fell apart after that good childhood came to an end. She could choose to say it was all fake, if she wanted to see it as fake.

She confronts Melina, her (staged) maternal figure who obviously isn't her biological or even a proper adoptive mother, and says: "You are my mother. You were my real mother, the closest thing I ever had to one."

When it comes to Hunter, he wouldn't find it as straightforward to acknowledge that the times when Belos was nice to him "felt real". Would he ever want to view the late Emperor as his uncle? Not via any conscious decision, I'm sure...since he's the opposite of Yelena here. Hunter's safe haven was after he escaped the Emperor's Coven, but Yelena's haven was at the start of her life, which she wished had been permanent.

Those months of summer when Hunter spent time away from Belos in the human realm must've been so special for him. But when faced with inevitable confusing flashbacks especially after Belos's death (that involve the subconscious, not conscious, part of his mind), he's still going to feel that the Emperor was a close family member whom he had an attachment with. Belos was the closest thing he ever had to family for so long.

In the Black Widow example, Yelena felt that Melina was her mother, from an early age. Around two decades later in her young adulthood, she still feels that this is the case, and consciously still wishes for that. She was lucky to be able to reconcile with Melina in the movie.

Hunter isn't as lucky. While he recovers, I don't think he can simply dismiss what it felt like to be told that he is part of a family (even if it was a lie) in such fragile formative years:

As an example, if I had first been told at age 5 by a parent that they promised to protect me, only to find out a decade later that they actually wouldn't have ever cared if I died...I would be hella confused.

Quoting a guest lecturer from my first year of therapist training, the part of our brains responsible for reasoning and logic - the prefrontal cortex - does not begin to seriously mature until our late teen years. Which is why early childhood memories can't just be viewed by our adult selves and easily trimmed away and viewed in black-or-white as truth-or-lie. Those early years are sensitive for us all, in how they shape us later in life. That inner child is still in each of us.

Blade Runner 2049's protagonist, K, has an arc that takes a different direction: he had actual false memories implanted that were not even his own, but the theme that is consistent for this post is those memories still felt real to him, and thus affected him emotionally. He felt unfulfilled and wanted something new, to feel like he had a soul, which led him on this risky quest. Sadly, he easily believed in a lie because it matched the truth he wished for. Thus, even false memories could feel real to him because he was desperate for meaning in life.

This movie has a cyberpunk dystopian setting, so it's of course more bleak. K was made to believe so strongly in those memories because he was ultimately used as just smokescreen, to keep the real person (who had those memories) well-hidden. Below, he speaks to the memory maker who formed his false memories. She is a very skilled deceiver, and successfully engineers experiences that didn't actually happen because she inserts fragments of truth here and there.

And she makes some good points about how she succeeds at implanting false memories:

Especially the last two lines, "We recall with our feelings. Anything real should be a mess."

Linking back to Hunter, it would be a tough process to learn how to make peace with his childhood with Belos. Because anything that felt real would be a mess.

And K has a similar line as Yelena did:

The running theme I spotted is the realness of confusing memories for these characters, because their inner conflicts involve questioning themselves: whether or not they were just imagining the good feelings they felt.

While we never got confirmation whether Belos used false memories or not, I'm inclined to think he didn't...in order to work more subtly and over a long period of time on Hunter as his latest grimwalker project. The deadlier lies are the ones with many bits of truth scattered throughout their intricate webs, like what the memory maker in Blade Runner 2049 could pull off.

Belos's treatment would've felt kind to Hunter at the time. As they say, how we feel about any experience we have is "what we make of it". Or how we choose to view the experience.

I think Hunter needed to believe his uncle really was kind, while maintaining his own image, in order to keep going and survive.

This tragically meant he had to believe he wasn't doing enough.

It is always scarier for an abused child to see that their parent in fact isn't loving after all/isn't a good person, compared to imposing shame upon themselves and believing they aren't good enough.

Of course, all this would've changed by the time we get to here and beyond:

Memory is subjective and our minds are so powerful that they find evidence to seemingly confirm any kind of beliefs that we form.

All three characters in this post were cogs in a machine, reduced to being pawns in a scheme...until they later had the space to decide things for themselves.

As seen in Hunter's efforts in his Golden Guard days to be good enough in the role, Yelena taking a stand to preserve the purity of an untainted childhood (even if it was staged and not organic), K defying authority to cross a line in his duties and get answers about who he was....this is how much we as humans will clamber to grasp onto a sense of personhood, to give our lives meaning and survive the best we can.

Yelena wanted to preserve the memories of her childhood as good, as a haven or a warm fuzzy bubble to look back on, because it got torn apart before she reunited with her family many years later.

Obviously Hunter can't do exactly the same i.e. preserving the entirety of his time in the Castle as "good", since he has now been able to see that Belos was a constant threat upon his life. However, he could still look back on smaller pockets of his childhood as pleasant, by isolating those specific memories.

We have two examples in canon: the way he grins when remembering the experience of being left on top of the mountain and climbing back down. And him saying that "weekends were nice" since he tasted partial freedom by being outdoors going on missions.

In fact, he would likely start out wanting to erase his childhood, view it as entirely bad and terrible to revisit, and try to force himself to forget its significance and start afresh. But this would only worsen the unpleasant emotions associated with this time of his life that he'd rather wish had not existed.

Mental health recovery is counter-intuitive: avoiding or denying emotions tend to make them grow bigger and scarier, while letting them feel seen and heard can help them along to shrink and positively transform over time. Hunter's therapist would have to provide him with psychoeducation on this so that he doesn't feel like he's grieving wrongly. It would bring him more peace if he can acknowledge both of these seemingly conflicting truths:

Factually, Belos did lie to him and betray him.

(Here's the important part) Emotionally, if the 'kindness/love' offered by Belos felt real at the time, received by Hunter's very legit need for attachment and meaning, then yes, it was real.

Both these points can coexist. Belos's love was untrue in the factual sense (we in the audience can easily see this), yet true in the emotional sense for a young child like who Hunter was. Which is what makes it hard.

Someone would ask Hunter, "Do you think he loved you?" and the answer isn't simple. Maybe it'd be something like "He didn't, but I felt like he really did." And the second half of that sentence ("but I felt like he really did") honestly doesn't need to be changed or removed, and the grief in those words should be honoured. Belos only cared about meeting Hunter's emotional needs as a means to an end, and as strange as it sounds to say this...it did help Hunter survive long enough, however mistreated he was. Because he still clung on to meaning and a purpose in his life.

The love wasn't there in the technical sense: instead it was a twisted version of Philip's love for Caleb, not any love extended towards Hunter. But this love still felt mostly real to Hunter before he fled the coven.

And I bet that even if it was for a split-second, Belos's gaslighting of "Why are you hurting me? I only wanted to help you" felt real and true to the poor kid here:

before Hunter expressed that he knew who Belos truly was as a person: a liar.

[decadentworld]

My headcanons about the boys (Billy, Eddie, Steve, Jonathan)’s sexual orientations and how that comes into play in a relationship with Reader (male reader).

※ This post is only meant for fanfiction purposes.

※ Short version first, longer thoughts after the cut.

※ Work available only on Tumblr and under ArchiveOfOurOwn pseud of the same name (DecadentWorld). Do not repost, edit, or redistribute. Do not use for TikTok videos.

Steve

※ Bisexual with equal preference towards men and women.

Eddie

※ Gay. Sorry, hellcheer enjoyers. I have nothing against the ship. I just can’t see Eddie as anything other than exclusively homosexual.

Jonathan

※ Bi-demisexual with preference towards men.

Billy

※ Gay. I’m sort of ambivalent about him and can sometimes see him as bisexual if written right, but I prefer to think of him as closeted/repressed homosexual.

※ Under the cut are some more extended thoughts.

※ Trigger warnings: Mention of grooming (Karen Wheeler towards Billy Hargrove). Child physical and verbal abuse (Neil Hargrove towards Billy Hargrove, Lonnie Byers towards Jonathan and Will Byers). Mentions of death due to overdosing. Religious trauma.

※ Content and warnings: Homophobia. Internalized homophobia. Mentions of (all of the following unrequited and not acted upon): Steve Harrington/Jonathan Byers, Steve Harrington/Billy Hargrove, Eddie Munson/Steve Harrington, Billy Hargrove/Eddie Munson, Jonathan Byers/Argyle.

Steve

※ I picture him as bisexual, but as him having only recently discovered this about himself.

※ I imagine he would be in denial at first.

※ He would try to take ‘refuge’ in sex with girls, which is familiar to him.

※ Which is something that, to him, feels great. Truly.

※ But. There’s always going to be that tiny splotch of curiosity in his head. Like an interrogation sign following his line of thought every time he catches himself staring at a particularly attractive male celebrity in a movie for too long.

※ His bisexual awakening can’t be pinpointed into one man, but three in particular.

※ The most notorious one was Billy. But the first one was, surprisingly, Jonathan.

※ Obviously, in the heat of the fight, there was no room for any other thoughts than to beat Jonathan within an inch of his life.

※ But after all is said and done, after Steve gets his act together and tries to be a better person, he starts having thoughts.

※ Confused thoughts, remorseful thoughts. Thoughts that leave him disgusted with himself because why would he start thinking about that fight as anything other than a necessary reality check for him.

※ Why does he get a different kind of chills when he recalls Jonathan overpowering him? No, not overpowering him. Just… lying on him at all.

※ It was the first time Steve’s ever considered himself anything other than wound up by a physical fight.

※ And Billy.

※ Dear God. Billy.

※ If Jonathan was the inception, Billy was the confirmation.

※ The way he looked, the way he carried himself. Even the douchebag way he treated Steve was so different from anything he’d ever experienced. And he was curious.

※ Only much later could Steve understand there was more to Billy. Only after it is too late does Steve understand Billy’s reasons, Steve’s own fault in Billy acting the way he did at the Byers’ house.

※ Only when it’s too late does Steve start experiencing that feel of wanting to protect, ever since El had vaguely mentioned that Billy had a Papa too. That’s enough for Steve to understand.

※ He feels guilty. Angry. Not at Billy, not for this. At his father. At his environment.

※ But… it isn’t just the need to protect him from his environment? It’s also wanting to hold him? To be close to him?

※ Steve has always had conflicting thoughts about many things, but the idea that he’s always been attracted to Billy Hargrove wreaks havoc in his mind.

※ He can’t do anything now. It’s too late, because Billy’s left Hawkins as soon as he was discharged from the hospital.

※ Steve worries about him now and then, wonders if he even had enough money, if the Camaro was even functional at this point, how he’ll afford housing in (probably) California.

※ He calms himself by thinking the government had a hand in that.

※ And then you arrive.

※ Jonathan was the inception, Billy was the confirmation, and you are the execution.

※ Steve has seldom found people who he considers bigger than life. Billy wasn’t one of them.

※ You are.

※ The way you look like you could snap anyone in half, but still choose to be a nice person, has him immediately hooked.

※ His previous thoughts lead him to the shaky confirmation that yes. This is attraction to men.

※ But how is that possible? He can’t be gay. He likes girls.

※ Robin knocks some sense into him, obviously.

※ “It’s called being bisexual, Stevie. Like Bowie. Are you living under a rock?”

※ Huh.

※ It’s a long, very long way until Steve accepts that he wants to spend time with you as more than friends.

※ Even then, he doesn’t have the same amount of courage to come onto you the way he does with girls.

※ Luckily, he doesn’t have to, since you’re the one to make the first move.

※ The first time you ask him out, he refuses out of panic. And leaves. Running.

※ He shuffles his feet back to you the very next day, with a very dark blush on his face. Says he didn’t know why he panicked.

※ So he asks you to try again.

※ The second time you ask him out, he looks jittery, but agrees.

※ Only on the condition that it’s a private affair.

※ “Obviously,” you tell him. You know just how much his life would be ruined if anyone —if his parents, God forbid— found out about this.

※ And you���re now Steve’s Harrington’s first boyfriend. First everything with a man.

Billy

※ I’m slightly impartial about Billy’s sexual orientation.

※ I can sometimes see him as bisexual, but I’m more leaning onto the theory that he’s a repressed homosexual, so I’ll develop this latter one.

※ Billy is so conflicted with what he feels.

※ And who wouldn’t be in his situation? He has only learnt violence.

※ Never love.

※ Billy strikes me as someone who just does not enjoy sex with women. At all.

※ Everytime he does have sex with women, it’s just part of the mask. He knows that the more women talk about him, about his sexual prowess, the more ears will turn and the more possibilities he will have that he will not be mistaken with a queer.

※ Especially if his father is listening to this gossip.

※ Billy did not have one man in particular as his sexual awakening. There were many.

※ Most of them were in California.

※ Billy was often startstruck with how handsome and bright the surfer boys were.

※ He just didn’t know it was ‘bad’ to be a ‘queer’. There was so much acceptance of ‘queers’ in there.

※ Which is the reason why Neil found out so quickly about his son “being one of them queers” when Billy, so innocently and still full of life, walked down the beach hand in hand with another boy —a new friend, not even a little boyfriend— of his same age.

※ Betty Hargrove could somehow disregard the verbal abuse her own son was getting from Neil. However, she left the second he turned on her. (Sorry, Billy’s mom’s defenders, but a mother who abandons her son with his abuser just does not strike me as a good person at all.)

※ Billy just doesn’t know when his ‘punishment�� for being ‘queer’ will stop, if it ever will:

It starts with Neil bringing Susan and Maxine Mayfield in not even two months after his mom leaves;

it continues with moving them all to Bumfuck, Indiana soon after;

it keeps going day after day, with hit after hit, even when Billy shows himself with a different girl every week.

(Billy knows it’s not all about him being queer anymore.)

※ All of this plays an important role in Billy’s self-deprecation in general, in the way he sees being queer.

※ So his walls keep hardening. On and on. Until he’s unrecognizable from the innocent boy who would carelessly walk down the beach with another boy.

※ This mask he has built for himself, of a living hazard towards other men, a womanizer for the women, is not as sturdy.

※ There are moments when the cracks start to show.

※ Karen Wheeler’s predatory behavior almost has him reverting into a scared boy at times, as much as he’s able to hide it. She’s the reason why he starts being even more disgusted with himself when he has to keep this charade of being a ladies’ man.

※ There are, however, other moments when these cracks in the mask feel like freedom, a prisoner catching sunrays from between the bars, but it’s a dangerous kind of freedom.

※ Those moments happen whenever Steve Harrington is nearby.

※ Billy’s not sure who starts it, but sparks fly off the first time they interact.

※ Except. Not in the way he’d like.

※ He knows he’s not a pleasant person to be around most of the time, sure, but Billy could swear he did his best to not scare off the guy.

※ Now that’s all he can do. It seems like the only way he can interact with Steve normally is by pulling at his metaphorical pigtails.

※ Even this is more than he could have asked for. An escape.

※ But then, the betrayal. Not that Steve owed him anything, or that he was obviously anyone in Steve’s radar, but finding his little (step) sister in this random house, under this guy’s ‘supervision’ feels like betrayal all the same. How dare he lie to Billy?

※ Everything is fuzzy after this. Hate, betrayal, terror, acceptance, and pure, unadulterated pain is all he can feel. Being used like a puppet, and torn open and sewn back together will do that to you.

※ The light at the end of the tunnel exists, but the train has to hit him first.

※ Neil finally disowns him and ditches Hawkins. Billy figures his sperm donor jumped at the first chance as soon as he learnt Billy was critical, and he’s not surprised. So Billy’s virtually homeless. At the very least, the government paid off his hospital bills and gave him a hefty sum for his involvement, so he’s going to be alright for his hospital stay.

※ (Susan visits him at the hospital exactly one time and unenthusiastically offers him to stay at their new trailer. Billy refuses. She doesn’t visit him anymore. Billy knows it was just a courtesy.)

※ No one visits him.

※ No one, except you.

※ Word runs fast in Hawkins, and as soon as you hear —from your workmate, who’s heard from his cousin, who’s heard from her father, who works with Susan Hargrove Mayfield— about Billy’s situation, you can’t do anything else but go see him.

※ Billy lets the unexpected visitor (you) enter his hospital room, and you don’t fault him for not immediately recognizing you. You shared many classes in high school, but you never approached him because you knew (or thought you knew) how much he saw other men as nothing more than competition.

※ The panorama changes now. No words need to be said for you to understand that there’s more than meets the eye.

※ “I know you.” Billy surprises you, and you can’t be anything else than elated that he does.

※ The fact that you’ve been harboring the biggest crush on him for ages has a lot to do with this.

※ But, of course, that’s not why you’re here. You store these feelings away and simply make him company.

※ You’re his only visitor. Billy thinks it’s going to be a one-off, but he’s —pleasantly— surprised to know that’s not the case.

※ Billy heals with you at his side. His hospital room was one breath away from becoming a mausoleum, but instead, with you in it, it becomes his sanctuary.

※ He doesn’t say this. Tries not to show it.

※ But you think you know what’s up. Even then, neither of you says anything about the growing tension, though it’s not a bad kind of tension. On the contrary. Because you know you’re only a few steps away from full-on loving him, but you can’t do that to him. Can’t take advantage of him like that, and you know his feelings are probably only that of a vulnerable person towards their caregiver.

※ The closer he’s ready for discharge, the more nervous he becomes, because he’s still virtually homeless. He shouldn’t be; you’re going to offer him to stay at yours for as long as he needs. Obviously.

※ Though, as you say this, you can’t help falling face-first in love with him. Because the way he breaks down, like you just gave him a piece of heaven, tells you he hasn’t had a single good thing in his life for a long time. Which is when you start turning nervous too, because this is simply too much power held over him.

※ Billy doesn’t think that. He just falls in love with you, at the same time you do.

※ Navigating life together without actually being together is hard. A couple months into this arrangement it’s very clear to you that what he’s clearly feeling is not simple attachment to a caregiver figure.

※ So you take a chance and make a move. And he responds in enthusiastic kind.

※ You teach him how to accept himself. You hold his hand through the storm. You teach him how to make amends; this last one is important to him, because, “No one’s ever said sorry to me for shit, so how am I s’posed to know how to apologize?”

※ And through you, his relationship with Max improves. Lucas offers an olive branch. The kids and even Steve start warming up to him, seeing how much he’s changed, now that he’s in a safe place and has started to heal.

Eddie

※ Eddie strikes me as the gayest unconfirmed gay to ever gay.

※ Seriously. Have you seen the guy? (Again, nothing against hellcheer.)

※ The bandana on his back pocket should be enough evidence. (The fact that it’s on the wrong side doesn’t mean anything. Shut up.)

※ Eddie’s known about himself for too long.

※ Long enough that his parents sort of did, too. If it hadn’t been for his mom’s OD and his dad’s GTA, he’s pretty sure he still wouldn’t have lasted three more months in that house.

※ Wayne is the biggest ally ever. As soon as he knew this little thirteen year-old boy was going to go into the system, he dropped everything and swooped in to take care of him.

※ Wayne clocks him from a mile away.

※ Eddie doesn’t say anything at first, but he knows Wayne knows, somehow.

※ And the fact that neither of them aren’t saying anything about it fills him with anxiety.

※ Eddie’s always had a negative vision of himself being queer, due to dear ol’ Randy and Bonnie Munson —ironically— giving him a Christian upbringing, but the more time that passes, the more he hates himself. Hates the idea of Hell and is terrified at the same time.

※ These thoughts lead him to closing himself off for a long time, before Wayne decides the elephant in the room is too big to ignore and simply says:

※ “Kid, you’re not gonna go to Hell.”

※ It’s as if Eddie deflates when he hears that.

※ It’s a slow process, full of ups and downs, but eventually, Wayne convinces him that there’s nothing wrong with being queer, that he’s not abnormal.

※ Eddie vaguely wonders why Wayne and Randy are so different, being that they both had the same upbringing.

※ Maybe Wayne’s a little bit gay, too.

※ So Eddie grows up with a supportive figure who allows him to be himself, dress how he wants, grow his hair, listen to whatever he wants without side-eyeing him, without implying he’s going to Hell because his music sounds ‘loud’ or ‘demonic’.

※ Eddie’s ways of expressing himself are so genuine it’s not a surprise they end up pissing off some less accepting people.

※ The first few times, Eddie reverts back into conforming, trying to not take up too much space in the room.

※ As time goes on, however, he understands that this’ll follow him on every step he takes, so he figures it’s not worth it. He is unashamedly himself.

※ He never comes out publicly, but the rumors that he’s queer will always be there.

※ One thing that Eddie can just not stand, is people calling him ‘Freak’.

※ Sure, he is unashamedly himself, but he still has his limits. He very much prefers when people call him ‘gay’, because at least that’s true.

※ It’s a long time until he closes in on himself again, and that moment arrives the first time he and Steve interact. Or, rather, Steve makes himself known.

※ His asshole friends, those Tommy and Carol who follow the King like his shadows, make life impossible for some seconds at a time every time they see him.

※ And Steve watches. Calls him “queer” and leaves after, every time.

※ Eddie is so ashamed to find out that, among that resentment he feels, there’s also yearning.

※ But Eddie won’t be so easily swayed by this, so he ups the ante. Is even more boisterous, makes himself a dangerous persona, but never falls into violent territory. He won’t stoop as low as his bullies.

※ Time passes and things change a lot in Hawkins. He notices a new family moving into the trailer park. He notices they were only two people at first in the trailer, but when the third one arrives after some months, his interest is piqued.

※ He knows this guy. Billy Hargrove. Eddie’s never approached him, lest he bear the brunt of his usual bad moods. He would’ve probably clocked Eddie as well, called him queer, knock him out a couple times for good measure.

※ At least, that’s what Eddie thinks high-school Billy would have done.

※ The Billy Hargrove he sees now looks like a shell of his former self.

※ Eddie yearns again. He so badly wants to be by this man’s side.

※ Unfortunately, not much time passes before he learns Billy Hargrove has left Hawkins. He doesn’t blame him.

※ Eddie finds his clique. Many years pass and he’s still in high school, and the only reason he tolerates it is because he knows he’ll have people to look forward to: his band and his little friends.

※ Then, the long chain of events happen in just the span of a few days, and his world is turned Upside Down.

※ He will always cry at the mention of Chrissy’s name. They could have been the best of friends, and he would’ve always given her a shoulder to cry on.

※ He still doesn’t know how or why he’s still alive. Maybe his dad was right. Maybe Hell was real, and he had to go through it, just as if he were made to face the divine tribulations.

※ That doesn’t matter now. What matters is that he’s now apparently given the access to Heaven with everything he’s had to go through. His charges are cleared, and even though some people are still in denial of this, no one dares to say otherwise.

※ And this is the part where he thinks he’s earnt Heaven. Because as he goes with his uncle to volunteer at the gym, he sees you, an absolute specimen of a man that almost makes him weak in the knees, helping prepare some meals.

※ Wayne almost laughs at how obvious Eddie’s being. “Why don’t you go make some sandwiches, kid? I’ll be right over here.” And subtly pushes him towards you, making him splutter and making you look up at the noise.

※ Eddie watches, almost besotted, as you introduce yourself to him. He blushes when he realizes he should answer something.

※ That’s not a problem to you. You’ve already started calling him ‘angel’ in your mind.

※ Time passes and Eddie’s falling more and more. But his earlier internalized thoughts are making the rounds again. He thinks you’ll only ever see him as a friend, and God forbid he ever shows himself as he is to you. He’ll totally lose you.

※ Silly boy. You’ve known he’s queer the entire time, only you’ve waited until you’re sure he’s feeling something similar to what you’re feeling to make a move.

※ And, oh, boy. The way he reacts has you halfway in love. He all but climbs you like an excited puppy. And the way he kisses you lets you know it’s his first one too, and isn’t that a thought.

Jonathan

※ Jonathan has known he’s a bit queer all his life.

※ He didn’t have a specific man as his sexual awakening. He’s just sort of known all along.

※ Obviously, living with this knowledge under Lonnie’s yoke is not easy.

※ For some unfortunate reason, it’s Will who bears the brunt of their father’s verbal lashings.

※ And Jonathan can’t stand it. He wants to be there for his brother, but he doesn’t know how he can possibly show his support as long as they live in this house.

※ Luckily, as soon as they’re all out, they can start healing. Even then, the scars of their upbringing are too big to ignore.

※ Jonathan keeps his attraction to men to himself throughout life.

※ The fact that he’s an outcast at school wears him down even more.

※ Let’s not even talk about the time Will’s gone. He’s a mess.

※ One of the hardest lessons in life for Jonathan is that everything that has to turn out wrong, turns out wrong in the end. Steve Harrington outing him as a ‘creep’ and breaking his camera is part of that lesson.

※ There’s something about Steve that has Jonathan’s thoughts going haywire. He hates the guy, but… there’s something else there, too. Jonathan has to put this foreboding feeling aside for the time being, seeing the following events that play out.

※ One of the most notorious events is the brutal fight he has with Steve.

※ The guy completely deserves it! Jonathan is firm in this belief.

※ But when Steve tries to improve himself, he has those same initial thoughts.

※ Why is he turning that fight over in his head so much?

※ Something must be wrong with him, clearly.

※ Jonathan loves Nancy. He does. At least at first. She’s his first in everything, and they have an understanding.

※ As more time passes, though, it’s clear that both of them have strayed away from each other. It hurts that she doesn’t understand his point of view, but he concedes that it’s clear he, in turn, doesn’t understand her point of view.

※ Their break-up is nothing big. It’s very obvious that it’s been a long time coming. He’s just glad they both reached that same conclusion at the same time, else they be caught in a future loveless marriage.

※ Especially when he tells her that he won’t follow her to Emerson.

※ Jonathan is very sure that he felt love for her. Attraction, even. But as he briefly heals from this same separation, he starts giving thought to previous happenings in his life.

※ The fight with Steve being the most prominent one.

※ Why is he still thinking of that?

※ Maybe it was the fact that it was the first time he got all close and personal with another male.

※ Even if it was in a fist-fight kind of context.

※ But he thinks of other instances apart from that one. All of them revolving around Steve.

※ The Halloween party at Tina’s. How… surprisingly handsome he found him that time.

※ Steve breaking his camera. The mortification, but, underneath that… the little thrill he got at seeing Steve so collected, so authoritative. Trying to put him in his place.

※ Yeah. There’s something very fucked up in Jonathan’s head.

※ Steve trying to make things right. This one, he thinks makes more sense. A subdued Steve was almost like a relief to him. Meant he wouldn’t be harassed as much.

※ It also meant he would also try to be more amicable to Jonathan.

※ Jonathan finds himself partial to these thoughts. But he can’t think of Steve like this anymore. Or, rather, should have never thought of Steve like this. He considers Steve sort of an awkward friend, and he’s too afraid to break that fine ice they’re both constantly stepping on.

※ So, with all this, it’s not really a surprise to Jonathan when he starts having thoughts about another one of his male friends, but it makes him feel guilty all the same.

※ Argyle is so different to Steve. He’s funny, effortlessly charming in a way that’s so contrasting to Steve, and considerate. Not to mention he sells Jonathan the best weed in miles around.

※ Plus, he’s tall. So tall.

※ Jonathan is slowly getting to two conclusions at the same time:

1. He has a type. That type is tall and bigger than him.

and

2. He’s finding out he likes men a lot more than women.

※ These two conclusions go hand in hand together.

※ The guilt swirls in lazy strokes on his chest. This feels so similar to Steve. He thinks he’s doing something very wrong by simply thinking of a male friend as something more.

※ After all, childhood scars are the hardest to heal.

※ He tries to withdraw, just a little bit, just until Argyle asks if he’s okay, if he’s still sad because he’s thinking of Nancy.

※ Yeah. Sure.

※ It isn’t until the new semester starts and he gets paired up with you for a project that the lid on his feelings starts weakening its hold.

※ Oh, he’s so fucked. The first time he sees you, he thinks: he’s so my type. Why do I have to go through this, again?

※ You’re easy-going, attuned to him, helpful.

※ And you’re tall. A lot taller than him. He almost has to strain his neck to look up at you.

※ He doesn’t know how that looks to you.

※ Luckily, or perhaps unluckily, due to the conflicting thoughts in his head, you’ve already starting thinking that he’s so small, so cute. He has to lift his head to look at you.

※ This college project drags on like molasses, except Jonathan finds it’s not the usual, not because it’s boring, because it should be something more challenging for his current level.

※ No. It’s because he and you have to actually gather at either of your houses.

※ Have to work next to each other. Share the same space. Try not to break due to the tangible tension you’re both aware of.

※ You’re very sure of what’s going on. A simple conversation that starts with your nonchalant: “Oh, did you know I’m into men?”, his spluttering reaction and subsequent shy answer of: “I… kinda am, too. That’s crazy,” eventually, but rapidly enough evolves into tentatively taking his hand, seeing the openness between the bashfulness and making a move.

※ His first time kissing a man makes him feel like he’s a whole different person.

※ A person he was always meant to be.

※ Small dates with you consolidate the idea that yeah, he’s a lot more into men.

[alchemie-tarot]

Cold Moon Pick-A-Card: What is Coming To A Close In Your Life?

Here’s to the last full moon of 2022. She invites us to look back on everything that transpired this year, especially the events that had us face our shadows. Transformation can often take place in darkness. Know that it gets brighter from here. ✨🌕✨

Feel free to choose the pile/s that call out to you. Some details may not resonate with you since this is a general reading. As always, nothing is set in stone, so please don’t take it too seriously.

Extra: The Justice card was at the back of the deck before I started shuffling. When I was still warming up, shuffling without intention, Justice dropped from the deck. She is a general theme for the piles of this reading. She has our backs.

Extra (2): Featuring my photographic attempts to capture Miss Mama Moon.

Pile 1

Cards: King of Pentacles, 5 of Wands, 3 of Pentacles

Right away I see that this is about your work, or something you’re putting a lot of effort into. You’ve established yourself in this place, but lately it feels rigid, like there’s hardly any room to breathe. “No freedom” came to me quite strongly. This could be a lucrative pursuit you have lost your passion for. For others, it could also be something you pursued for the sake of financial stability and security, but now you feel that it’s time to move on to something you genuinely like and flourish in. 

There seem to be voices in your head pulling you in different directions, arguing with each other. For most, though, I feel that it’s more so from your surroundings that are affecting you than your thoughts. Has someone been disrupting your space lately? They seem to be driven by self-interest. Your environment could be tense and filled with clashing egos, or some of your peers are threatened by your power. Either way, they just mess up your vibe.

Take a deep breath, Pile 1. I see that whether you decide to stay or to choose another path, you’re in for a breath of fresh air. This crowd will close its chapter in your life, and new connections will come in. They will be nothing like your previous or current peers. Collaboration is valued at a spiritual level. They will see you as someone to invest in, and you will mirror this view towards them. 

They could be older or more experienced in the field that you choose. In fact, you’re likely to find a mentor in them. They will bring you to places you haven’t been, I feel. It’s really up to you where.

This is the speediest and most straightforward interpretation I’ve ever done for a pile so far. I feel like you will realize quickly when these people come around, or they will approach you right away.

===

Pile 2

Cards: 9 of Swords, King of Pentacles, The Fool

Are you having a hard time getting some good sleep lately? Something seems to be keeping you awake or has been giving you unpleasant dreams. I could sense an almost tangible anxiety around this trauma. I believe it’s related to money or something material that’s important to your security. 

Some of you may have been carrying a responsibility like this on your shoulders quite early on in your life, and it has taken its toll on you. For a few, I feel the energy of someone stern who may hold some power over you in your career or, again, in relation to money. It’s like they’ve been blocking you from getting any kind of breather.

Putting my arm around you, Pile 2. These things are not easy to navigate at all. I hope I can ease your worries somehow, since this reading is about things in your life that are coming to an end. 

The big break you’ve been waiting for is not so far from your horizon. It will feel like the brightest of new beginnings. Seriously, you’re moving from the bleak darkness of worry that never seemed to end, and into broad daylight where you can see the land across you for miles. Your burdens would be made light and, perhaps for the first time in a long time, you’ll be able to throw your cares in the air and think about yourself. 

I feel the need to add: when I shuffled for this pile, the first card deliberately slipped out of the deck without falling. It took me a few seconds to decide if I was going to get it. The same happened with the rest of the cards. I felt unsure even in the order I was going to lay them on. This new beginning may unfold slowly and you may find yourself going from hopeful to fearful, back and forth, worrying if things are on the right track.

Please take it easy on yourself and know that it’s normal to have moments of doubt especially after you’ve been through a heavy situation. Every little glimmer of hope contributes to the new foundation you’re making. You will get there. 

When you do, you will feel like a child. What felt like years of torment will gradually return to you in the form of healing. Instead of a mountain to climb, your next step will feel like the start of an adventure.

===

Pile 3

Cards: 2 of Cups, 3 of Pentacles, Knight of Swords

Okay, I feel like you have already got a lot of abundance in your hands. I see that you’re quite gratified within a relationship or a kind of partnership that’s close to your heart. You’re busy with projects you enjoy working on, with people who admire and trust your abilities in your team. You’re surrounded by energies who lift you up and encourage you to be productive.

Not gonna lie, this is not the kind of scenario I expected to see in a reading about something coming to a close in your life. These three cards came all together and I had a distinct sense to order them this way. I was dumbfounded at first glance. At the same time, I don’t feel like it necessarily means that your auspicious situation will come to an end. Fortunately, the third card explains what’s on its way to you.

The Knight of Swords is all about independence. There is an opportunity for you to experience going solo. It’s more of putting some distance between you and your tribe in order to be in your own space for a while, rather than cutting ties with them.

A swift change seems to be on the way that needs you to be quick on your feet. An emphasis for you to make your own decisions. Maybe you’ve been relying a bit too much on your circle? Yes, they make you feel safe, but there’s a sense of being oblivious to the consequences of certain actions when you’re only taking account of the blissful feelings.

Again, I don’t necessarily think that what brings you joy is about to be stripped from you. This may just be a way to test your tenacity and dedication about something. It involves a lot of your inner strength. You may come face to face with your priorities. Regardless, only you can say what is meant for you deep down. Hold on to that.

===

Pile 4

Cards: 6 of Wands, 6 of Pentacles, 10 of Wands Rx, 10 of Cups

An extra card jumped out. What are the odds that a pair of Sixes and then a pair of Tens came out? That’s pretty cool.

Being generous comes naturally to you. You share what you can to people in need and these people really look up to you. This admiration makes you feel good about yourself and you take pride in being able to help others. It’s like a part of your identity now and because of that, you may think you have peaked at this position. There’s a feeling of wanting to give and give on behalf of everybody. Because of the little attention you genuinely turn to yourself, you may be on the brink of burnout without knowing it. You could even be denying it.

You’re not solely a giver, Pile 4. There is no need for you to prove this about yourself over and over. We already know it. You need to refocus because I feel like you’re having a problem disengaging from this role. If you persist in this mindset, it will end up doing more harm than good. It’s safe for you to express how you truly feel. It’s okay to acknowledge that you need support, too.

All the noble deeds you have done will return to you tenfold. True, stable, and long-term harmony in all fields awaits you. You care so much for others, but now you need to be open to receive. The people you have lent a hand to would happily return the favour. Letting this go will help your innate abundance spread more evenly to everyone– and yes, that includes you, too. You deserve it most of all.

===

Thank you for taking the time to interact with this reading. Feel free to share and let me know how you found it, if it resonated or not, etc. Don’t be shy to send me feedback or details about it, if you’d like. I would really appreciate it!

Take care always! ✨🌕✨

[pistatsia]

Don Lorenzo: We all come from childhood (Part 1)

In fact, I have so many questions about Lorenzo that I'm just- I'm not ready to let him go. I love him so much. I really hope that someday we'll get a novel/chapter with him and Snuffy, because otherwise, the world would be too unfair.

He's good, caring, funny, the best, and generally-

Okay, this is where I'll stop and get to the point haha

(Here somewhere I'm looking too deep, somewhere I'm ignoring the farcical setting of Blue Lock. A lot here is based on my own experience (I also was thrown out of home by my parents when I was 13). Some things of course will be misinterpreted since the whole truth is known only by Kaneshiro-sensei. Also, consider the fact that most of the things described here are unconscious)  

1. Relationships/Attachment

Lorenzo is a very loving and grateful person. 

It is evident to anyone that his relationship with Snuffy is imbued with warmth and trust. Lorenzo genuinely loves him, he is willing to do anything for him.

Even his conversation with Barou is initiated in order to get him on Snuffy's side, going through all of his traumas and 'exposing himself' to Barou. Making himself vulnerable, because telling someone that you were once abandoned by your parents is like showing them that you have a flaw that made the most important people in your life disgusted with you. That you're wrong. It's like pointing at your chest and saying 'here's the heart, if you want to hurt me, hit me here'. 

And he's doing all this to help Snuffy.

And it's obvious that Snuffy wouldn't have asked him to do that - it was Lorenzo's initiative. He loves him very much - even though Snuffy isn't perfect, and of course has made his mistakes (which you can't avoid when you're in your late twenties picking up a teenager off the street after a friend's suicide and career collapse). But that's something we'll get back to a little later. 

Lorenzo doesn't pay attention to any of this - he doesn't care what else Snuffy could have given him. He's grateful for what Snuffy has already given him. 

Speaking of his relationship with Barou, it's obvious that they both care for each other equally. Barou isn't rude to him (well, 'not rude' like classic Barou), he accepts him despite all the quirks (I'll come back to that too a bit later), and Lorenzo feels it. For him, Barou is a 'Snuffy' type of person, perfectly accepting and gentle, without the endless pull-push in affection. They're like a reference point that helps ground and gain confidence in the relationship with both of them.

Lorenzo is also quite open in his affections. He has a certain authority within the Ubers, giving them the command to "get to work". He doesn't avoid people or push them away in the fear of intimacy and the pain that follows, but reaches out to them himself. In doing so, he shows no visible fear of being rejected - on the contrary, he behaves as freely and even strangely as possible, without trying to adjust his behaviour to society's standards; behaviour that would make him 'his own'. Remember this moment, because it will be important a bit later.

He adores both Barou and Snuffy so much because they accept him without question. Like, you're like this, so what? 

They accept him absolutely.

But why is that acceptance so important to Lorenzo?

2. Fear of abandonment.

I think it's redundant to say that having experienced this as a child, it's impossible to become a person with a completely healthy type of attachment. His parents, the people who brought him into this world, who were supposed to teach him how to live, feel and love, abandoned him in the street alone, leaving him to survive and starve. In doing so, apparently keeping his other two brothers for themselves. Lorenzo was the only one left behind. Can you imagine how a child feels after something like that? If they were kept and I was abandoned, I'm definitely broken, I'm disfigured on some primal level, I'm always worse.

I was already born wrong.

The fear of rejection is something that is 99% likely for Lorenzo to have. 

Remember his motto: "Give me a job. Give me money. Give me love." What can a man whose most basic desire is love be afraid of? That he'll lose it.

Can you imagine what that does to the psyche? After such events, one can't help but question oneself. What did I do wrong? Why did things happen the way they did? If I had behaved differently, if I had stayed away from my parents, if I had been more obedient, would I have been kept?

Was it all my fault?

And he lived alone with these thoughts not for a day or two - but probably for years. He says that he lived this life already when he 'was little'. These thoughts may have been reinforced afterwards because he began to realize the moral wrongness of what he was doing to survive (stealing). The psyche can be very persistent in convincing us of bad things: you should have found another way, you let everyone down, Snuffy picked up someone who wasn't worth it. 

Beyond that, as much as I like to portray Lorenzo and Snuffy as parent and child in my writing, it's likely that their relationship is more of a friendship. Even the graffiti caption in the moment where Snuffy picks him up says "who finds a friend finds a treasure".

Snuffy probably didn't live with Lorenzo for a long time - I think he picked him up, fulfilled his wishes, and then sent him to treatment and helped him with his football career. That's already a huge gift, and even more so for Lorenzo. They kept in contact, they saw each other often, they probably called each other.

But at the same time Snuffy was playing at a football club and winning trophies, which you can't do if you're not 100% invested. He was on constant travelling between countries and games. He just didn't have time to always be with Lorenzo - and it's likely that Snuffy (who wasn't given the "How to deal with a teenager abandoned by his parents and saved from starvation" manual) might not have thought about it. It would have been fine on his end. Why? Because Lorenzo, especially as a child, would not have shown him that anything was wrong - remembering the way his parents had thrown him out, he wouldn't have let it happen again. He wouldn't talk about his problems, he wouldn't impose, he'd do anything just to please. Just to be comfortable. Maybe even blaming himself for having those needs, because Snuffy already seemed to have done a hundred times more for him than he should have (from his point of view, of course).

He'd do anything to avoid causing trouble - only for not being left behind.

Imagine - getting someone's love, and not being able to feel it all the time? Constantly losing the only person who ever genuinely loved and cared for you and gave you a chance to start a new life, seeing him off on flights and likely for seasons to other clubs (it's not known how long Snuffy played for the Ubers, but it's likely he was under contract with them and then the club loaned him out to leagues in the countries where he wanted those trophies for Mick. Otherwise the chronology between Mick's death, Lorenzo's find and Blue Lock seems too compressed). It's in some ways even scarier than not feeling love at all ever. Because it's far worse to get love and then lose it again and again.

Even so, Snuffy showed him what it feels like to be loved. He gave him purpose and a new life. He gave him an understanding of that healthy basic need that Lorenzo is so eager to fill - the need for love.

But then we look at his behaviour and we have... questions. Why is Lorenzo so embarrassing? Why does he act so defiant? Why doesn't he adjust to others like, for example, Isagi and Hiori, who were also afraid of being alone? It would seem that if you're weird, you'll never be accepted. If you don't fit in, you won't be loved. Yes, we can say that he just still doesn't fit into social norms because he missed the moment of childhood adaptation to this world, and just doesn't know how to do it. But as the conversation with Barou shows, he is capable of being completely serious in the right moments. He consciously behaves the way he is, without holding back.

We can say that Snuffy showed him that he could be loved for nothing, for himself, whatever he was. But still, after experiencing so many rejections Lorenzo would either fixate on Snuffy alone (only he cares about me, and no one else) or still subconsciously withdraw into a passive role in human relationships. Again, making himself comfortable.

But why does he behave like this in spite of this - making jokes about money, meowing and barking (I'm sorry), not shying away from making jokes about rivals and acquaintances? Why is he so uncomfortable for them?

Because the best defence is offence.

Most likely, when he was a kid, Lorenzo did tried to adjust to his parents. And obviously, even if he succeeded, they still ended up abandoning him. His strategy didn't work, and then it probably didn't work while living on the streets either. He tried to secure his safety, to make sure of it, but then he was tossed out of it.

And that's been imprinted on his memory.

It's both a defence mechanism on his part and an unconscious demonstration of "here I am, this is how bad I am". He was already rejected when he tried to fit in - so why try now, especially when he has Snuffy? 

Think of how pejoratively he talks about himself. How he smiles broadly when he talks about his tragic past. He's being deliberately defiant - yes, I believe only money has power in this world, yes, I was a street rat. Why does he say this, if in order to be accepted he has to hide his flaws? Yes, the past may be impossible to hide, but other things?

Because if he says it himself, and if he laughs about it himself, showing that he doesn't care, it won't hurt him so much when others will talk about it. 

He literally shouts with his appearance - that's how I am! I'm ugly inside and out, I'm a mess, I'm wrong! I'm impossible to love!  

Because if he shows it first, he can endure it when someone else says it. 

Are you saying I only care about money, Mihya? Ha, and I already know, I've already said it myself!

In a relationship, Lorenzo is prepared in advance for the fact that sooner or later this, in his opinion, ugly and vile essence in him, because of which his parents abandoned him, will be recognised, and he will be rejected again. And sets himself up a safe base so that this time it won't be as painful for him as it once was with his parents.

He adores Barou and Snuffy so much precisely because they accept this ugly shell without question. Like, here you are, so what? Sure, he probably doubts them on bad days too, but they're still like stable lighthouses for him. 

So we've covered why Lorenzo acts so openly and perhaps even defiantly. It's a perpetual test of boundaries and a way to protect himself from rejection - how much of this will you take from me? Are you sure you're okay with this? Think again. I'm uncomfortable for you. I will always be.

But there's one thing that doesn't fit with his behaviour, even with that said. 

His "There's nothing in this world money can't buy."

He is obsessed with money, explicitly saying that everything in life can be bought with it (of course, this is not necessarily true - sometimes people lie about themselves as well). He judges players by their stakes, and even calls Raichi worthless. But it seems that the love he longs for this much cannot be bought. And Lorenzo is well aware of this - 'money' and 'love' go separately in his motto.

Dissonance, isn't it? Seems strange for a man like him.

So we move on to the next part of the analysis.

3. A price of the man.

I'm actually very interested in Lorenzo's real relationship with money. I'm sure that because of this terrible background he is quite impulsive (I'll tell you more about this in the second part of the analysis), and more specifically impulsive in his purchases. Even if we're talking about ordinary ones - buying a more expensive juice in a shop, choosing an ice cream not on sale, accidentally buying an adult public transport ticket instead of a youth one. Any expense perceived by the psyche as 'unnecessary' must be met with guilt - either suppressed and ignored, or vivid. Because the psyche has no switch between 'here' and 'then'. It's used to reacting to trigger events according to a certain script that once perhaps helped Lorenzo to survive by avoiding unnecessary expenses. Except now everything seems to be fine, right? Money's there.

But you can't explain it to yourself so easily.

Let's go back to Lorenzo's statements about money and his attitude to it. He quite logically, after such a life, believes that money solves many problems, if not all of them. 

But this stance of his goes a little further than the prices of things and services. 

Remember how he was introduced to us as a character? He remembers the price of every player, he mocks Raichi, he's sarcastic in response to Kaiser's claim.

He asks - Michel, if I defeat you, will I be worth more than you?

Lorenzo still believes that people have some mythical 'value' that he alone cannot grasp. His brothers were more valuable than he was. His parents' lives without him were more valuable than he was. Every person who passed him in the street was more valuable than him.

He believes that on his own he was worth nothing - and that's why he was abandoned.

Remember what he says about his little self? Good-for-nothing. But it's not true. Lorenzo was a kid who just couldn't do anything under those circumstances. He didn't need to be good for anything - he needed to grow up and be a happy little kid. And he was robbed of that.

But he still doesn't accept it, mocking it.

The whole Mr Worthless thing with Raichi is an obvious reference to himself. Because he too, from his point of view, was once worthless. I'm worthless, so I don't matter and I'm nothing.

But why is this 'worth' of his so important to Lorenzo, especially now, apart from those people?

Because little children have nothing but themselves, and can give nothing but themselves and their love. But Lorenzo knows that he-child was not enough. He was worthless. He was not loved for who he was. But his brothers were loved. They were 'valuable'.

And this belief remained sitting inside him at a very deep level.

And, believing that on his own he is not worth love and never will be, what can he do but think of a way to still get it?

The way out for him is to 'earn' that love.

In fact, though certainly not intentionally, Snuffy's words probably played a role here as well. A deal, salvation in exchange for a football playing.

This only strengthened these beliefs Lorenzo had about himself and about living with a system of people's 'value'.

Snuffy didn't just give him 'money, work and love'. He gave him a way to earn it all. He gave him a way to gain this mythical 'value' that would guarantee his safety - that he would not be abandoned. 

On his own, he didn't deserve to be saved. 

But what did deserve saving was his talent.

The only thing that Lorenzo thought was valuable about him.

Snuffy's whole philosophy with football - a job that you earn your value with and see it in the form of rates and rental prices - actually suits Lorenzo very well. Because he doesn't feel valuable on his own - only in relation to achievements. And so this semi-comedic treatment of others as money is actually a terrible reflection of his same treatment of himself.

The more he's worth (again, the scene with Kaiser and "will I be worth more than you") the safer he feels.

Lorenzo is sure that he will be abandoned as soon as he makes a mistake and loses his 'value'. And the only way to avoid that is to stay 'valuable'.

Yes, rationally he probably knows that Snuffy won't abandon him. That Ubers care about him. That he's no longer the helpless child he once was. That he can defend himself now.

But we have not just rational intelligence, we also have an emotional one. And the latter continues to throw out familiar beliefs about ourselves, formed from childhood and youth, to any trigger, and influence all our thoughts and actions.

And sometimes it is simply not possible to fight it alone.