#and literally anyone else who comes to mind

[evangelicgrl]

hcs + mini scenarios: saja boys as yanderes

they say “love can be too much”, but when you’re talking about literal demons from hell, the lines begin to blur. (un)fortunately for you, you’re the special recipient of their monstrous desires. will you resist or give in?

warnings: MDNI. contains general yandere themes (possessive and obsessive behavior, freaky behavior, stalking, killing, manipulation, etc.) however, i’m fond of “soft yanderes” the most so that’s what you’ll be seeing here, meaning none of them force reader to do anything against their will.

wc: 3,220

jinu

after being consumed by his guilt and shame for four centuries, he has already come to terms with his demonic nature despite the torment being never-ending, slowly eating away at the last flickers of his soul. it doesn’t matter anymore, he only needs you to share his pain with. if not you, then there is no one else. you’re irreplaceable in his eyes.

he’s highly methodical when it comes to executing his plans. being in control means less mistakes, and less mistakes mean less shame. jinu is prudent, he bargains his way through everything with cunning schemes and flowery words; he won’t do anything that won’t benefit the both of you. in the end, he subjects himself to further damnation by convincing himself you will be his salvation. it’s a vicious cycle he’s not willing to break.

with most people he’s standoffish and unapproachable—cocky even. he would be aloof, and he will make it known that he is a tough nut to crack. he won’t give anyone chances to distract him from pursuing you. when it comes to you though, it’s a whole other story. it’s almost embarrassing how quickly he folds for you. he puts you on a high pedestal, thinking you’re above everyone else, including himself. if you tease him about it he won’t deny it nor get mad at you, he’ll only get pouty.

overcompensating for his past mistakes, jinu would always want to do everything in his power to provide for your needs. want him to wash the dishes? they’re squeaky clean before you can say anything. want him to cook for you? you don’t even have to ask, just tell him you’re hungry and he’ll deal with the rest! you need him to beat someone up in your stead? say no more, darling! he doesn’t ever stop to think whether you’re in the right or wrong because he doesn’t care.

for a while, being in a relationship with him will almost look normal, that is until you notice some of your items going missing, him insisting to have a cctv installed inside your bedroom for “protection” or whatever, him sticking close only to you while being wary of everyone else, and some blood stains appearing on his clothes here and there that he always insists were minor injuries he got from touring with the saja boys.

“this is the third time we’ve installed another cctv, jinu. i think our home's secure enough, don’t you think?” you raised an eyebrow, nudging the raven-haired man’s side. jinu hummed, not paying any mind to what you’ve just said. how can he, when he feels everything is right when you’re near? he tightened his hold around your waist, hiding his face on the crook of your neck.

jinu breathes in your smell. god, you’re so intoxicating; he wants to crawl inside you and never leave.

“i know, but i don’t want anything to happen to you while i’m on tour with the saja boys; i worry about you a lot,” he whispers. he begins peppering kisses on your bare skin slowly; you shivered at the sensation. “fine, but this is the last one, alright?” you almost stuttered, your face heating up from his ministrations.

“of course, my love.” he considers the thought of marking you up with his sharp canines right here, right now, but he immediately disregards the thought.

he won’t do anything that will make you hate him, he’s lost far too much for him to mess this relationship up now. as for his obsessive monitoring of your everyday life and your coworkers who were too friendly with you winding up dead mysteriously… well, ignorance is bliss, right?

abby

abby is pretty flexible and adaptable. it doesn’t take him long to get used to new environments like the human world. being able to find shortcuts for a speedy escape route easily works to his advantage if he messes up a murder. sure, he can be quite an airhead sometimes, but he’s not that stupid. he gets his way around problems with his fists first, so as long as he doesn’t encounter complicated people—demons—like jinu, he’ll be fine.

he’s quite violent, and his muscles are put to good use when it comes to bashing heads in; he’s pleased by this fact, they’re not sturdy-looking for nothing! abby can snap most things in half just from sheer strength alone. with that being said, while abby is brash, he’s not entirely careless. he knows how to control himself like exerting the right force when he’s holding something and breaking someone’s neck.

no matter what you look like and whether or not you’re physically stronger than him, they won’t matter to abby. in his head you’re someone special to him, therefore he treats you gently like glass. god forbid he accidentally breaks a bone or two in your body, because he won’t ever forgive himself for it. while he’s proud of his muscles, he’s surprisingly self conscious about his strength at times, especially when he’s with you. he’s aware enough that a demon’s physique is far superior than a human’s.

ironically enough, he’s a physically affectionate guy. he wants to be close to you at all times, touching or holding you in some way both in public and in private. he doesn’t really care if people around him are bothered by the pda, your opinion is the only thing he holds in high regard. if you don’t tell him to behave, then he won’t have any qualms draping his body all over yours while you’re out and about.

abby is also extremely protective, he gives little thought to how other people and demons alike perceive you, which means he deems anyone that stares too long at you a threat. his cleanups after a particular murderous streak are sloppy, but he tries his best since he doesn’t want you to find out. additionally, nobody will be spared once he’s done dealing with the imbeciles who thought they could get away with disrespecting you. you never asked him to be one, but he sees himself as your knight in shining abs anyway.

“i’ve heard from my friend the creep around our area got their head bashed in to the point they became unrecognizable,” you recounted to abby, whose focus is entirely on lifting weights twice the size of his arms.

“oh yeah?” he replied in a disinterested manner, clearly he couldn’t give less of a shit about that bastard; he’d gladly do it again if given the chance.

serves them right for attempting to assault you.

“if i’m being honest, whoever the perpetrator was, they did us all a favor,” you sighed in relief. he smiles. good, you’re happy. if only you knew he did it all for you.

“agreed.” abby figured a curt response was enough to not give him away. he might not be smart in all the right ways like a certain raven-haired demon was, but he always tries his best to watch what he says in front of you. if you believe abby is a cocky yet sweet musclehead who can do no wrong, then he’d be happy to keep up the illusion for you.

you don’t need to know about his true nature right now, that can wait.

romance

he’s the most obsessive one out of the bunch, which is unsurprising given his namesake. rather than monopolizing your attention and going after others who do, he spends most of his time thinking about you and finding more information about you. it’s a miracle you’ve never caught him in the act once. in his opinion, even though he’s not the brightest, he still knows his way around whenever he stalks you, which is an everyday occurrence.

everything you say, do, and give attention to, romance is instantly filing them all away in his sick head. after all, if he knows everything about you, then you won’t ever feel the need to throw him away and replace him with a good for nothing human. he might have not told you that he’s a demon yet, but when he treats you so right, surely you’ll accept him? he hopes you do; he really, really does. his whole life revolves around you at this point that if you reject him, he doesn’t know what he’ll do.

it’s fitting for someone like him, a nameless demon who can only recall vague memories of his past life; it’s alright, he doesn’t care one bit at all. why live in the past when he can live in the present? after all, you’re the one who gives his eternal suffering meaning. the reason he became “romance saja” was to come into your life and for you to come into his, that he’s sure of now. he wholeheartedly believes you’re his soulmate.

romance appears suave and calm in front of you, sweeping you off your feet with flirtatious remarks. internally though, all he wants is for you to take charge of his every action and make him bend to your will; salivating at the thought, it’s basically his number one fantasy. other demons might call him pathetic for submitting to a human, but he knows they’re wrong. he won’t do it for all humans, only you. you’re different from the rest.

while he’s relatively harmless, he’s still a demon, making him highly destructive when he’s feeling emotional. if push comes to shove, he won’t hesitate to tear out someone’s throat open. once it reaches this point, then it means he’s been pushed to the brink of insanity. he would be blinded by his rage so much so he might not even realize he did something heinous until he recovers and calms down. be careful with how you treat him, you wouldn’t want his hidden jagged edges to come out.

“romance, you did pretty great during your photoshoot! i bet the fans would love it!” your eyes twinkled, smiling at him brightly. romance smiles unsurely, then tilts his head in confusion. “the fans? but i did it for you since you’re into that designer brand, right?”

he hums and twirls you around, his lovesick gaze becoming apparent. “you’re right, but the fans are much more important.” you laugh. his eyes darkened.

“no, they’re not.”

“huh?” you blink. what was that?

you don’t know if it was just your imagination, but you could’ve sworn his eyes flashed yellow for a second. you shake your head and sigh, maybe it’s the stress getting to you now.

“i mean, compared to the fans, you’re still my darling beloved. naturally, your opinion matters to me the most.” his hands settle on your waist as he pulls you in and leans his forehead on your own. “so, do you like it or not?”

“of course i do! don’t be silly, romance.” you chuckled, tweaking his nose playfully. he sighed as he pulls you closer to him.

everything he does is for your approval, he hopes you won’t forget that.

mystery

to this day, nobody can get a good read of his overall personality; the fact that he opts to hide half of his face doesn’t help either. he leans into his demonic instincts more compared to the rest, seeing no reason to pretend he could act like a human again when he’s anything but. because of this, he’s easily the most feral guy of the group, making him highly indecipherable. he navigates his way around his environment with quick, silent precision akin to a predator studying its prey.

don’t be fooled by his looks and seemingly placid demeanor, he’s freaky and would most likely be the type to dig around in your dirty laundry to sniff and lick your used clothes and undergarments; he feels invigorated doing this, it reminds him that deep inside his undead body, he can still feel. and because he doesn’t express himself half of the time, he relies on your emotions to gauge his options and do what he feels would make you be the least upset with him.

with you, mystery learns to have some semblance of control over himself. however, there are times when he can’t reel it in, so if he growls at someone getting too close to you, just tell him off and he’ll snap out of it. while he mutters a string of apologies, take this time to pet his head and reward him for a job well done in order for him to really remember what you want from him. to an extent, you can condition him to do your bidding if you’re determined enough to do so.

despite this, he’s highly possessive of you. if your family and friends are the type of people who hog you all to themselves, they would be in danger with him around. regardless of your relationships with other people, he doesn’t take too kindly to scum taking away what is his. mystery may not hurt you in any way, but the others are free game to him. simply eating their souls will not be enough, he’s brutal and would often prolong torturing people and/or demons if he despised them enough.

he goes to extreme lengths to show you he doesn’t mean any harm to you. more often than not, he likes showing off his qualities he thinks you appreciate the best; compliments can go a long way with him. your praise and your smiles directed at him repeating in his mind's eye like a mantra he never wants to end. before you, he never cared for anyone else, but now that you’re here, the love he has for you makes his nonexistent dead heart threaten to burst out of his chest. he's animalistic in a lot of ways, but even then he’s still considerate with your needs if you just forget the fact he likes stealing your underwear.

“stay away from them before you regret it,” mystery warned the person before him. his posture is rigid as he stares them down with a menacing aura, not backing out from the confrontation. “hey, hey! mystery! what did i say about threatening other people?!” you pulled him aside and reprimanded him. the other person could only blink in bewilderment before scurrying off to who knows where.

you imagined a pair of puppy ears appear on his head when he frowned and dipped his head in shame.

“sorry…” he whispers, if it weren’t for the fact that this café is sparse right now, you wouldn’t have heard him, and to be put into this position is embarrassing enough as is. “whatever, let’s just go home. i lost my appetite anyway,” you mumble.

mystery observes your facial expression under his bangs, the gears creaking and turning inside his head. he’s really done it, huh? well then, he just needs to make it up to you once you’re home.

he stares at your plump limps intently, feeling somewhat excited to make you sing praises for him again while he worships your body.

baby

on one hand, baby is bratty, mean, and everything in between; he’s evil incarnate with someone who isn’t you. on the other hand, he’s angelic and caring with you. the duality of his personality never fails to astound the others around him. being a master of deception, he can be quite unpredictable and hard to read, always hiding his devious tricks with a bright smile and an “innocent” gaze. you’re lucky he loves you, because the ones he hates aren’t so lucky. the fact that they crossed paths with him to begin with already sealed their fates.

he absolutely adores being spoiled by you; he would play up his charm to 1000% if it meant he gets to be the little spoon during your cuddling sessions for a while longer. your warmth enveloping him comforts him, and he would kill for this very same comfort if he feels it’s getting threatened by an outside force. he’s also possessive, but not to the extent that mystery is. he knows how to be mindful and play his cards right. if he needs to paint the others as bad people in your eyes to make him look good in return then so be it.

with that being said, baby is not entirely opposed to the idea of spoiling you instead. he finds it comes easier to him whenever you’re put in a state where you have no choice but to rely on someone’s help, such as being ill and bedridden or being drunk out of your mind. during these times, he coos into your ear and tells you he’ll never allow anyone other than him to take care of you since he knows you the best, and it’s true! his long record of stalking you proves that!

you’ll never have a dull day with him, somehow he always makes you do either creative or outlandish things, of course given that doing them won’t harm you. he thinks he’ll shrivel up and die if he accidentally gives you a paper cut while folding paper cranes for fun. he’ll offer to let you slice his skin with the same paper too "to make it even” because he’s simply weird like that. it doesn’t matter whether you indulge his odd requests or not, he will keep asking something similar anyway whenever he accidentally hurts you.

baby is extremely cruel, but he’s efficient with his murders, choosing to take the fastest route possible. he doesn’t want to spend any more time than necessary looking at his victims’ disgusting and ugly faces while the light in their eyes fades away. the satisfaction he feels from killing people is only fleeting, and before he knows it, he’s immediately cleaning up after himself so he can go back in your arms as soon as possible. you’re the only one that matters to him in this world!

“baby! i bought ice cream from the store!” closing the front door behind you, you slipped off your shoes and began trudging in the living room. not a second later, a blur of blue zooms towards you, engulfing you in a bear hug. “yay! welcome back, sweetie!” his cheers were muffled by your clothes seeing as he buried his face in them.

you laugh at his antics, bringing a hand up to brush his bangs away from his face. in response, he looks up at you in a daze.

“okay, let’s get this bad boy in the freezer before it melts.”

“aye, aye! captain!” he jokingly salutes before helping you carry the other things you brought along with you. but then he stops in his tracks, his gaze falling on the scratch on your hand. it was light enough to not be seen by the human eye, but unfortunately he’s a demon.

and demons have sharper senses.

“where did you get that?” you look down to your hand, and you chuckle. “oh, this?” he slowly nodded. “i accidentally grazed a sharp object at work today. it’s nothing serious, don’t worry.”

“i see!” and just like that, he’s back to his cheerful self. you didn’t know it yet, but he promised to himself to keep a closer eye on you from now on so he can pay a visit to the home of the person who thought leaving a sharp object around near you was a good idea.

he can hardly wait to meet them!

[skzophreniic]

⍣ ೋ cw: chronic pain, back injury, emotional breakdown, crying, self-worth struggles, internalized pressure/perfectionism, comfort/healing themes, soft intimacy, references to physical and emotional exhaustion

notes: (queued post) felix's back hurting literally hurts me. poor baby i hope he doesn't actually feel like what i wrote. this was requested so thank you to the anon who requested it <3 <3

The hotel room glows golden with city spill, the kind of light that’s warm but borrowed—filtered through the curtains, flickering gently against the white duvet, your half-unpacked suitcase at the foot of the bed. Music hums low from your phone speaker, but it’s the sound of his laugh that wraps around your ribcage the tightest.

He’s sitting cross-legged, hoodie rumpled, hair still damp from the shower he took before you arrived. You’d barely stepped through the door when he pulled you into a hug—arms wound around your waist like he thought you might vanish if he let go too soon.

And now he’s talking fast, smiling wide, full of stories he didn’t want to wait to tell.

You’re only here for three days. He keeps saying that like a countdown he refuses to acknowledge.

You nod along, matching his grin, watching the way he talks with his whole body—shoulders swaying, hands animated. But even through the glow of reunion and room service and the chocolate you brought him from home, something itches at the back of your mind.

He hasn’t leaned back once.

You clock it in the way he sits perfectly upright. The way his jaw ticks when he thinks you’re not looking. How his fingers press against his thigh like grounding points. It’s subtle, but it’s Felix—you know him too well.

You let him go on a little longer. Let him revel in the rush of having you here—finally, finally here. The hotel room feels different with you in it. He feels different with you in it. You know that. You know he’s trying to keep the moment light, to stretch it out like taffy and pretend it isn’t straining.

But still—you notice.

You always do.

So you shift forward on the bed, slow and nonchalant, like it’s nothing. Like you’re not trying to inspect him. Your hand finds his knee first, then the hem of his hoodie. You smooth your palm over it casually, letting your fingers slip underneath to touch the warmth of his stomach.

He startles, then grins. "What’s that for?"

“You just looked really cute sitting there,” you lie, though not really. “Wanted to touch you.”

He hums, a low, pleased sound. But there’s a flicker in his eyes, a half-second of pause. And before you can ask anything else, he’s leaning in—hands coming up to cup your cheeks, smile turning shy and sheepish and utterly distracting.

“Missed you,” he murmurs.

“I missed you too.”

And then he kisses you.

It’s a soft thing, at first—barely there, a whisper of pressure and warmth. But Felix kisses like he’s pouring something back into the world, like affection is a currency he never wants to run out of. The kiss deepens, his thumb brushing your cheekbone, his other hand sliding into your hair, tilting your face just so.

You feel it in your knees. Your heart. Your everything.

But then—

He shifts.

It’s just a small movement, barely noticeable to anyone who doesn’t know. But you do. You know the difference between his usual slow crawl into your lap and the stiff, guarded slide he just attempted. And more than that—you feel the sudden tightness in his body, the way his breath hitches, the ghost of a flinch.

He pulls back too quickly.

"Sorry," he says, voice too bright. “Just—stiff from rehearsal.”

“Stiff,” you repeat, flatly.

Felix offers a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “It’s nothing, I’m okay—”

“Felix.”

Your voice is gentle, but it lands like an anchor. Firm. Unshifting. It stills him.

His smile falters for real this time.

You soften your gaze, fingers brushing lightly beneath his jaw. “You don’t have to pretend with me. I’m not just here for the good parts.”

He exhales slowly, chest deflating like a balloon finally giving out. His hands fall from your cheeks to his lap, fingers curling inwards like he’s trying to hold something in—dignity, maybe. Or guilt.

“I just…” He glances away, jaw tightening. “You came all the way here. You only get a few days. I didn’t wanna make it about me hurting again.” He releases a frustrated breath. “It’s my back. Again. Worse this time. I thought it would go away, but it just… hasn’t. And I didn’t wanna tell you because I didn’t want to waste time talking about pain when we could be doing this.”

He gestures vaguely—at the kiss, at you. At the fragile, glowing bubble he tried so hard to keep intact.

You look at him for a long moment—really look.

He’s still sitting upright, spine pulled taut like a bowstring, even though every inch of him is screaming to lie down. There’s sweat gathering at his temples, just a sheen, but enough to give him away. His hands are shaking a little where they rest on his thighs. And his eyes, God—his eyes are so full of apology it guts you.

Because this isn’t just about the pain.

It’s about how hard he’s trying to be fine. For you. For the moment. For the memory he wanted to make of your first night in New York.

And you’d be lying if you said it didn’t break something in you.

You reach for him again, this time slower. Gentler. Fingers skimming the curve of his shoulder until they reach the base of his neck. You lean in close, let your forehead rest lightly against his.

“I don’t care what we do with our time, Lix,” you whisper. “I just want you to feel okay while we do it.”

His eyes flutter shut.

“I didn’t want to waste a second,” he says again, softer this time. “Didn’t want to miss anything.”

“You’re not missing anything,” you murmur. “You’re here. I’m here. That’s all I need.”

He exhales, and it shudders out of him like something heavy. His hands come up to hold you again, but the motion is stilted, cautious. He grimaces.

That’s it.

That’s the moment you shift into motion—deliberate, calm, but unshakable. You take his hands in yours and gently lower them back to his lap, smoothing your thumbs across his knuckles like you’re calming a storm.

“No more of that,” you say quietly. “Come on, baby. Let’s get you lying down.”

Felix hesitates, brows pinching like he wants to argue—wants to say he’s fine, that it’s not that bad, that he can push through. But you give him that look again. The one that says I see you. I love you. Let me do this.

He gives in.

You help him shift—slowly, carefully—guiding him back against the pillows with one hand braced behind his neck, the other smoothing under his ribs. He winces again as his back touches the mattress, jaw tightening like he’s trying not to let it show.

Your heart aches so fiercely it nearly knocks the breath out of you.

He ends up curled slightly on his side, legs tucked in just a little. It’s not his usual sleeping position—it’s the one he uses when the pain is too loud to stretch out. You’ve seen it before. He hates it. Hates what it means. But still, he lets you settle the pillows behind him. Lets you tuck the blanket around his hips.

And he lets you stay close.

You brush his hair out of his face, soft and slow, fingers curling behind his ear.

“I brought the patch,” you murmur. “And that arnica balm you like. Do you want them?”

He nods once, quiet. “Yeah. Please.”

You press a kiss to his forehead before slipping off the bed and digging through your carry-on. When you return, he’s still watching you—tired but open, expression soft in that raw, defenseless way that only comes out when he knows he’s safe.

When he knows it’s you.

You warm the patch between your hands before peeling it open, then kneel behind him on the mattress, carefully lifting the hem of his shirt. The skin at his lower back is flushed from tension. He twitches beneath your touch.

“Sorry,” he mumbles.

“Don’t be,” you whisper, brushing your lips against the top of his spine. “You don’t have to apologize for hurting.”

You press the patch gently against the center of his back, smoothing it with the flat of your hand. His breath stutters beneath you, a shaky inhale that barely makes it to his lungs. You wait for it to settle.

Then—slowly—you lean down and kiss the bare skin just above the patch.

Soft. Lingering. Tender.

His breath catches again, but this time it’s different.

You follow the curve of his spine with your mouth, dropping kisses one by one—up toward his shoulders, down along the tense ridges of his back. Between every kiss, your fingers work the balm into the muscles flanking his spine, warm and slow and steady, like you're trying to soothe him into softness molecule by molecule.

“I’ve got you,” you murmur against his skin. 

He goes silent.

Too silent.

You pause, glancing up—and that’s when you see it.

The tight clench of his jaw. The glossy shimmer clinging to his lashes.

He’s not just hurting.

He’s unraveling.

You press one more kiss to his shoulder and crawl up beside him, hands finding his face before the first tear can fall. He tries to blink it away, tries to roll to the side again, to hide. But you cup his cheeks and press your forehead to his and whisper, “No, love. Don’t go. Stay with me.”

That breaks the last of it.

The tears spill silently at first—slow, hot streaks that slide past your fingers as he squeezes his eyes shut, breath hitching against your lips.

“I’m sorry,” he chokes. “I just���fuck, I’m just so tired. I keep showing up and smiling and dancing and I know I’m lucky, I know I am, but it feels like my body’s betraying me and I can’t keep up, and I—”

Your hands don’t leave him. Not for a second. One stays cradled against his cheek, the other smoothing slow, grounding lines down his side. You press your forehead to his, anchor him to your breath, your presence, the steadiness he’s lost in himself.

He swallows hard, trying to finish the sentence, but the rest of it breaks in his throat—just a sound now, raw and wounded and ashamed.

You nudge your nose against his. “And you… what?”

He lets out a broken laugh. “And I feel like I’m letting everyone down.”

That sentence hangs there for a moment, fragile and aching.

“I’m supposed to be the one who lifts people up,” he continues, voice cracked and spilling. “I’m supposed to be strong. I want to be strong. But lately, I can’t even stand for more than an hour without feeling like my spine’s going to snap in half. I stretch. I ice. I pretend. I smile. But it’s still there. And it’s so fucking frustrating. I just want to give everything I can on stage, and instead I—”

His words tangle. Collapse.

“I feel useless,” he says finally. Quiet. Hollow.

It rips something open in you.

Because you’ve seen the way he gives—always. The way he puts his whole body into the joy he brings others. The way he laughs louder when he’s in pain, so no one asks questions. The way he thinks he has to shine all the time, or else he’s disappointing someone.

You frame his face gently, guide him back down into the pillow as tears keep slipping sideways into the fabric. You kiss each cheek, slow and firm.

“You’re not useless,” you whisper. “You’re human. You’re hurting. That doesn’t take away everything you’ve given.”

He shakes his head, but you keep going, curling your body into his like a shield.

“You’ve never needed to earn love by being perfect, Felix. Not mine. Not theirs. Not anyone’s.”

He presses his face into your shoulder, breath warm and uneven.

“I feel like I’m falling apart.”

“Then fall here,” you murmur. “Fall into me. I’ll keep you safe.”

His shoulders shudder once—twice—before going still. The kind of stillness that only comes when the body has exhausted every other way of holding itself together. You feel him melt into you, bit by bit, like the last dam inside him has cracked open and everything is finally spilling out.

You hold him closer.

You don’t rush to fix it. You don’t rush at all.

You let him breathe. Let him be. Because sometimes love isn’t in the answers—it’s in the silence that waits without fear.

“I hate this,” he whispers eventually. “I hate that I can’t do what I used to. That I can’t move the way I want to. That my body feels like a traitor half the time.”

You nod against his temple, hands never still. One runs soothingly through his hair, the other slipping beneath his shirt again to rub slow, careful circles into the small of his back—where the patch still radiates warmth beneath your palm.

“I know,” you say softly. “I know, baby.”

You press a kiss just behind his ear. Then one to his neck. Then another—lower, softer—right where his pulse flutters, tender and alive.

“You don’t have to keep pretending it doesn’t hurt,” you whisper. “Not with me.”

His breath hitches.

He doesn’t respond right away. Just breathes—shaky, uneven, but beginning to settle. His face is buried in the crook of your neck now, warm breath ghosting against your skin. You can feel the tension in him easing—not gone, not entirely, but no longer clinging to his bones like armor.

You hold him through the silence. Through the weight of what he didn’t say. Through the grief of a body that’s asking for more patience than he knows how to give.

And then, finally, he speaks again—small, almost like a child.

“Do you think it’ll get better?”

You pull back just enough to look at him, to brush your thumb across the tear-streaked curve of his cheek.

“I think healing doesn’t always look the way we want it to,” you murmur. “But yes. I think it will get better. Not overnight. Not all at once. But piece by piece. Day by day. And you won’t be alone for any of it.”

His eyes flutter shut at that, lashes still damp, and he exhales like the truth of it finally sinks in. That he doesn’t have to carry it alone. That he can break in your hands and still be held like something whole.

“I love you,” he says, and it comes out quiet but steady. Like he means it more in this moment than he ever has before.

You lean in and kiss him—gentle, firm, the kind of kiss that doesn’t ask for anything in return.

“I love you more.”

You tuck him into your arms then, body curved around his, and let him breathe. Let him rest.

And soon, his body gives in. You feel it—the slow sinking of sleep pulling him under. His breathing deepens. His muscles soften. The furrow between his brows smooths out.

He dreams, eventually. You can tell by the little twitches in his fingers, the faintest smile at the edge of his mouth.

You stay awake just a little longer. Just to watch him.

Just to hold him through the quiet.

[karaswnee]

Loki’s headcanons

(Live action version)

[ NSFW Alphabet ]

Personality & Emotional Core

1. Deeply lonely, but terrified of intimacy

He aches to be understood, but the moment anyone gets close, he pulls away—mocking them or pushing them back to protect his own heart.

2. Weaponizes charm as a defense mechanism

The wit, the smirk, the confident strut—it’s all a carefully curated mask.

Loki knows how to be irresistible and unreadable at the same time.

3. Craves recognition, not power

He wants to be seen, not necessarily to rule.

Power was just the language he thought people would respect him in.

What he really wanted was to stop being “the other son.”

4. Speaks dozens of languages

Including obscure dialects, dead tongues, and even coded symbology.

He picked them up over time both for magical purposes and to read things no one else could.

5. Sleeps lightly and rarely

Nightmares—of Asgard’s destruction, Odin’s coldness, Thor falling, and his own death(s)—keep him from ever truly resting.

He paces instead of sleeps.

Powers & Magic

6. His magic is tied to emotion

Loki’s illusions are sharper when he’s angry, while his shapeshifting is easier when he’s calm or playful.

His most destructive magic comes from grief.

7. He stores hidden enchantments on his person

His jewelry, rings, and even the embroidery of his clothes sometimes bear hidden runes—emergency spells, illusions, or even literal failsafes in case he’s captured.

8. He could teleport freely—but often chooses to walk

He prefers a dramatic entrance.

He likes people watching him walk into a room.

Family & Identity

9. Still calls Frigga “Mother” in his head

Even after her death.

Her voice is the only one that calms his panic.

Sometimes when he’s overwhelmed, he “talks” to her in his mind.

10. He both resents and misses Thor

Loki thinks Thor is reckless and dim-witted—but he misses him, painfully.

No one’s ever loved him as unconditionally as Thor did, and that’s why it hurts so much.

11. His Frost Giant form is a source of shame

He hides it not out of pride—but fear.

Fear that people will see him as monstrous, even though he sometimes longs to reclaim that identity on his own terms.

12. He has multiple versions of himself in his mind

Not just in the multiverse.

Even in one timeline, Loki is fractured: The angry child.

The broken son, the charming liar.

The villain, the would-be hero.

They argue in his head when he’s quiet.

Love, Intimacy & Vulnerability

13. He doesn’t believe he deserves love

Not romantic, not familial, not platonic.

So when someone does love him, he’s suspicious, then self-sabotaging.

It terrifies him.

14. Has never had a truly consensual romantic relationship

He’s seduced and been seduced—but always as a means to an end.

He doesn’t trust love unless it comes from someone who sees through all his masks.

15. Touch-starved, but hides it well

He acts like he doesn’t care—flicking off a hand on his arm, rolling his eyes when hugged.

But even the lightest, genuine touch makes him go utterly still.

Identity & Growth

16. Genderfluid, quietly

He’s never needed labels, but when he shapeshifts into a woman, it isn’t a “disguise”—it’s just another true self.

Sylvie isn’t an anomaly to him; she’s recognition.

17. He envies mortals

For their ability to change.

To die, and to forgive.

He’s bitter and fascinated that their lives are short but meaningful.

It makes him feel stagnant by contrast.

18. He wants to be free, not good

Redemption is less important to him than choice.

What matters most is being the author of his own life, not a pawn in the hands of fate, gods, or TVA agents.

19. He sees time as a prison

Ever since his encounter with the TVA, time has become a trauma trigger.

It’s not linear or comforting to him—it’s a trap, a punishment, a cage.

20. He’s tired of being “the villain”

Loki knows he’s done terrible things, but he no longer wants to play the archetype others wrote for him.

The villain, the traitor, the liar.

He just wants a chance to be.

ㅤㅤ

[chevelleneech]

One thing I truly am curious about regarding TK shippers and their seemingly eternal grip on AYS being a reality show thus not real, is… what do they think about every other reality show centered around a couple? Or reality shows in which couples are prominently shown?

Because it never once crossed my mind to think Jikook is less likely to be real because of the show. One, because they’ve been on camera for the entirety of their careers. They have experienced every milestone in life with a camera somewhere nearby. Obviously not in their family homes and whatnot, but conversations with one another and so on? That stuff gets edited out, which includes Two, their romantic partnerships. Do TK shippers think the members have never dated anyone before? It wouldn’t be weird, because that’s not abnormal, but for the most part we can assume they have based on things they’ve said.

So do these shippers think they’re all lying? Or do they think only Jimin and Jungkook are incapable of having a private relationship despite being surrounded by the same cameras the others have been surrounded by for over a decade?

Genuinely, I’m curious. Them being a couple and choosing to use their friendship and coworker status to travel the world is not confusing nor unrealistic. Everyone in the media world believes them to be group mates who have known each other and worked together for over ten years. Non-shipping fans view them the same way, and for the most part, Jikook shippers view them as either a couple who can get away with it or non-platonic friends who can get away with it.

It’s literally only antis who have convinced themselves that two, damn near 30 year old adults who grew accustomed to being on camera and having to work around revealing too much of themselves by the time they were 16 and 17, are incapable of maintaining private relationships on camera. It’s only antis who think NDA’s and other extremely strict contracts don’t exist unless they’re for fan service, therefore the crew and other staff would have revealed the truth already.

Why do they think that? How did they come to that conclusion? Do they think the cameras stop rolling for everyone else? Do they think the company isn’t making sure, with the finest of fine tooth combs that nothing “scandalous” makes it online about any of the members? It’s been 12 years, for fucksake. There is no way people genuinely think the members have NEVER said something revealing on camera about their relationships. Have NEVER been accidentally walked in on while a camera was rolling.

They have airtight lawyers. They have a locked and loaded team that is dedicated to ensuring their privacy at all times, which includes perfectly crafted on camera privacy.

(Side note: which is why that woman who is constantly trying to convince people she’s dating Jimin, is a joke to me. Big Hit wouldn’t even confirm TJen, and we saw them together with our own eyes, and their private photos leaked. There is no way in hell a partner of theirs would be making vague posts. The company ignoring her isn’t proof, either. Its the fact that we know she’s doing it in the first place. A real partner would not have gone years without actually posting Jimin, and a scorned ex/current would likely get sued for breech of contract or the relationship would be confirmed if the photos were of him in their shared home. Right now, she’s posting suggestive photos, but anyone with enough time and effort can do that with any celebrity given they live public yet heavily stalked lives.)

I fully believe Jimin and Jungkook are together in some form, but I also fully believe what we see that leads me to said assumption, is a finely tuned version of them. Because for every aspect of a “real relationship” we’re not seeing; co-habitation, kissing on the mouth, referring to each other as romantic partners, we are seeing just about everything else. We see them flirt, travel, cuddle, talk about each other deeply, express their desire to be together, and two specific occasions in which we saw proof of them putting their mouths on each other.

I’ve said it many times before, but people want them to out themselves in an official way, and that is what’s unrealistic. They’re not going to risk their careers and the careers of the best friends by doing that. What is realistic, however, is a pair of publicly known besties traveling the world for a reality show. What is realistic, is a potentially closeted celebrity couple leaning into their public reputation as best friends, to do couple shit.

So yeah, this has been, since s1, the main thing I’ve been confused about when it comes to antis saying AYS being “scripted” or for distribution equals fan service and not a real relationship. Yes, it’s fan service, because it’s literal purpose is to be given to us, the fans. However, so is everything BTS does on camera.

I mean, I get that T and JK don’t film their hangouts, but neither does any other pair within the group. So I can see that singular reason being questionable, but Jimin and Jungkook also like doing the travel series, as said by them. They enjoyed being in new cities together, so why wouldn’t they make money from it? It’s no different than any other reality show that focuses on couples. People are not signing up for reality tv for free. The same way none of the BTS documentaries were done for free, yet somehow are real and show the guys true bonds???

I don’t know. It just seems like a really huge stretch to convince yourself that Jikook is the first (possible) couple to both ever be on reality tv but also manage to not get caught on camera, instead of believing the two of them and their whole company are just… capable of doing their job. Which includes making sure none of BTS get caught in compromising situations on camera.

Again, it’s been 12 years. They know what they’re doing.

[darkangelazrael]

Of all the things to make my first post. But l have imbibed one too many SVSSS hanahaki fics, the one I read today tipping over into critical mass. My brain, the savage, inconsiderate pile of neurons, spat out Thoughts.

Thought 1: You know what? I love bingliushen as much as the next truther, but also, fuck Bingqiu sometimes.

Thought 2: See thought 1, but with added detail of Shen Qingqiu just fucking off with Binghe without a shred of concern for anyone else or a mention of whether he was ever coming back or not.

Thought 3: Liu Qingge only hits the final tipping point of unrequitedness when SQQ walks away without looking back. He starts coughing up petals, and literally everyone knows who they're for, and literally no one knows if that person will ever even step foot on the mountain again. He chose Luo Binghe. Liu Qingge's picture might be next to the word 'devoted' in the dictionary, but SQQ is not the sole focus of his loyalty. He has a sister and sect siblings and a personal disciple. There are hundreds if not thousands of non-cultivators that would be dead today if not for him. There are hundreds if not thousands more that might die if he allows his life to be cut short now. The War God of Bai Zhan does not live for just himself. He gives himself some time, the amount Mu Qingfang tells him can be spared, to see if SQQ comes back and to come to terms with everything. SQQ doesn't come back.

Liu Qingge gets the surgery.

He forgets.

He forgets the Shen Qingqiu he loved entirely, and because they are so inextricably entangled in his mind, he forgets a lot about Luo Binghe as well.

And something is confirmed that Liu Qingge no longer remembers he has suspected for a long time, because he does not forget the Shen Qingqiu he hated. He doesn't forget Shen Jiu. It both guts YQY and soothes him at the same time.

Thought 4: Maybe LQG starts to fall in love with someone else. Who? There's a lot of options here, he is a pretty, pretty man and I do have a lot of other ships I enjoy him in. But-

Thought 5: Eventually, SQQ and LBH come back. But LQG doesn't look at either of them the same way anymore. These are, of course, two exceptionally stable people with a solid history of good coping skills.

[crazysandwich]

Tony Stark’s Legacy Isn’t Up for Debate

Okay, I need to talk about Tony Stark because I need to get this off my chest. Fair warning, this might be a bit controversial.

Disclaimer: I haven’t watched Ironheart yet, and I know I’m reacting to a single line taken out of context. Also, no spoilers in this post aside from that one line I’ll be talking about. So if you haven’t seen Ironheart yet either, don’t worry. I’m not going into anything else from the show. But these are just the thoughts that came to me after hearing it. I’ve seen a lot of clips on TikTok around the line, “Do you think Tony Stark would be Tony Stark if he wasn’t a billionaire?” and honestly, my issue here is mostly with the writing. Not with Ironheart as a character. Again, I haven’t seen the full series so I’m not judging her. But this isn’t the first time I’ve noticed this pattern.

There are a lot of great characters in the MCU with so much potential for good storytelling. But can we stop diminishing the impact that the original characters had? Specifically, Tony Stark, in this case. Let’s be real. He was a big deal. Huge. And we shouldn’t forget that. Move forward, yes. Create new stories, yes. But don’t erase what came before.

Lately, it feels like some writers are trying to push Tony into the background or treat him like a secondary figure. That just doesn’t sit right with me. You can’t rewrite the fact that he had one of the most significant character arcs in the MCU. Fans remember his story, his growth, his sacrifices, every iconic line.

And let’s not forget, Tony Stark’s entire arc was about proving he was more than just a billionaire. Yes, that was part of his identity, but it wasn’t the full story. Over ten years and multiple films, he showed again and again that he was willing to put others before himself, that he could grow, take responsibility, and make real sacrifices. That was the core of his character growth. From a self-centered weapons manufacturer to someone who snapped his fingers to save the universe. He didn’t just coast on his wealth. He evolved. That’s why people connected with him. That’s why it hurts to see that reduced to just "billionaire" as if that was all he ever was.

We literally turned “Tony Stark was able to build this in a cave! With a box of scraps!” into a cult quote. It was so iconic that it even got referenced again in a Spider-Man movie. Did the writers, producers, or anyone at Marvel forget how big of an impact that had? Why are they trying to downplay him now? It comes off as disrespectful.

Again, no hate to Ironheart. I’m excited to watch the series, and I’ll go in with an open mind. But this weird energy around dismissing Tony Stark needs to stop.

It’s not even just this show. I remember The Falcon and the Winter Soldier (which I loved, by the way, one of my favorites), and there was that part early on where it’s revealed the Avengers weren’t on a traditional salary, despite Tony’s financial support. And I get it, it’s part of the plot, but come on. He literally funded their headquarters, tech, suits, operations, and probably their living expenses too. The man gave them two whole buildings. What more was he supposed to do, run payroll on top of all that?

Yes, a formal salary would have been nice, but let’s not act like he left everyone high and dry. It feels like the writers are using him as an easy target lately, and I don’t get it.

Anyway, this turned into a full-on rant, haha. I just had to share these thoughts. Not sure if anyone else feels the same. Once again, no hate to Ironheart, I believe she has a lot of potential, and I have high hopes for the series. Just please stop disrespecting the OGs. If you want to create better and newer characters, do it. But don’t erase the ones who built the foundation.

[fluffydeoxys]

OC stuff is dangerous wdym you just think about that guy and you feel things. You made that thing and it’s come such a long way like they’ve grown and fleshed out and you’re proud of them. And there’s an indescribable feeling of pride and tenderness and passion and fondness. That ☝️thingie is My Thing and I love them

[javierduffy]

would we like to talk about how hosea also contributed to arthur’s entrapment in and eventual demise due to the van der linde gang because he was constantly affirming to arthur that he was “dim-witted” and “a fool”, and we can assume he’s been doing as such since arthur was very young, and therein causing arthur to internalize the narrative that he is nothing but a dumb brute who could never make it as anything other than a “born and bred” killer or is that too controversial

[the-lonely-human]

I love Sonic games cause nobody has any clue wtf is happening half the time.

They are all just doing their own thing when they all randomly meet up, each knowing about 2% of the plot, and then the worlds ending and Eggman is up to his shit again, time to beat him with the power of friendship woohoo!

[aroaceofthesea]

Welp i just spent literally 8 hours on a videocall with friends its 2am and its storytime in the tags

Noooo i reached the 30 tags limit todomal im not rewriting shit tho so if the story feels abruptly ended thats why lol

[ab-horror]

thinking abt vincent having his own little venom arc after he loses his powers bc he genuinely cannot handle being 'useless' in the grand scheme of things because hes. hes just a guy now. a human guy with nothing to his name but hes still surrounded by all these strong and powerful people

so when something major happens and he cant fathom just sitting by and doing nothing well. there are always more. unsavory methods to getting power

like getting possessed by a shade

and i know just the one!!

[ceasarslegion]

Would love to tell this job to go fuck itself in favour of being a park ranger but unfortunately every national park that has given me an offer is somewhere where the cost of living is so egregious that the salary doesn't even begin to cover it. Maybe I should try for park warden instead

[castielfucks]

I wish more people realized that when someone is seeking diagnosis, it's not because we are trying to collect diseases like infinity stones. it's not to be quirky or interesting.

diagnosis is the guide to resources and community. knowing how to help yourself, being able to understand yourself, connecting with others with similar experiences so you dont feel crazy or alone, finding the right places to look for relief and support, learning about accommodations that can make your life not only easier but liveable.

and for all these reasons, people are allowed to be excited for their diagnosis, theyre allowed to lean into it and advocate for themselves with language they didn't even know existed for the way they live. it is entirely normal to be happy and relieved after finding out that not only is there a name for your experience, but also people groups communities just like you ready to talk about it and support each other.

diagnosis opens up entire worlds for people, that's a good thing. and we need to stop shaming anyone who wants/seek it.

[s0fter-sin]

Thinking you shouldn't have to pay for Watcher content is you being entitled, actually.

did i ever say i shouldn’t have to pay for it? no, i said it’s disappointing that i would now have to after years of it being free. it would be easier to take if they were completely changing and upgrading their shows or established that the stream wouldn’t just have their current shows and maybe discontinued ones, that it would be different from their youtube channel and worth the sudden charge, but it’s hard not to feel like they’re throwing their audience under the bus

[wheelercore]

Theory with no coherent proof on my part: brenner only visibly ages rapidly when a portal is open.

[butwhatifidothis]

🔥 for Engage

I love most of Ivy's character but I wish her "I clung onto this one thing for salvation for my shitty situation because no one could take it from me and it was my way of rebelling against my terrible environment" was like. Literally anything other than Alear. Not even because it's an inherently bad thing, because it would be super interesting... if, like, Alear wasn't the player character and it didn't look so much like this is just more Look How Cool The Player Is Everyone Loves Them So Much