#anger is momentary madness

[its-my-life-is-it]

Seven 'Ps' to 'Terminator' anger. - Part Six - Physical Activity

I often joke about my size, saying there is more of me to love. So, I was in for a surprise when I heard angry people store their anger in their bodies. The bigger they are, the angrier they get. So I googled it, and this is what I found.  #MentalHealth

Previously: Part One – Seven Ps to cope; Part Two – Four Ps to prepare; Part Three – Pause; Part Four – Breathe; Part Five – Grounding. The Jolly Fat Man Photo by Ian Robinson on Unsplash My body mass index (BMI) is 35. It is on the cusp between obesity and severe obesity. I often joke about my size, saying there is more of me to love. So, I was in for a surprise when I heard angry people…

[acid-ixx]

Now that someone mentioned Connor as a possible love interest I think he will be a good choice. He obviously feels a similar kind of anger at his own father(s) so they could connect thanks to it. And his super hearing and other abilities will make it possible for him to always know when something is wrong with reader. I see reader being in shock that someone wants to be there for them and dismissing any yandere tendencies, toxic traits in favour of keeping Connors attention. Not like they could loose it no matter what they do, Connor is to obsessed and I could see him being dependent on his darling.

a/n: since i am more familiar with the animated series (young justice) for conner kent and i feel your ask is describing his version so i'm basing it off of him! but yes you are so fr in this. i will never not go too far when it comes to rambling, i love long asks hehe.

it was temporarily stated in chapter one that you had your momentary bouts of anger and that in itself already paved its way into conner's heart because of course most would be put off with the rage that he kindles within. you two would really be some sort of match made in heaven— it's like you deeply understand the intensity of his emotion, and you both share that bond nobody could deter; it being anger towards your parent/s and the inability to be accepted or nor noticed/your feelings being invalidated most of the time.

but because of the level of power between you, you being human and him literally being a carbon copy of superman, conner would be incredibly overprotective and possessive of you. and i'm not just implying that he would give anyone within a fifty mile radius a death glare, no, you would literally be glued to his figure all the time.

that means a hand on either your shoulders, your waist, or hips. if you were the shy type, then expect him always holding your hands or wrist. but if you don't mind the weird display of pda, then you'll be lucky enough to have the rights to smother your face in his chest whenever and wherever— sometimes that would even be his go signal to tell anybody off whenever you feel the slightest bit of discomfort.

but other than the advantages of being with him (protective guard dog 24/7), you would pretty much lose every sense of independence nor privacy. which isn't losing much since you already have your mad family on your tail constantly tracking you down and probably a huge bounty on your head— but at least you have your boyfriend with you, right?

with the lack of attention you were given to as a child, one given willingly without the need to ask for is basically a heaven for you. and with his powers? babe, you don't even need to ask for him to take you away to somewhere safer because he could already hear your heartbeats thumping louder and louder.

speaking of superhearing; a way to calm your boyfriend down quickly and efficiently would be laying his head on your chest. you'd probably discover the method later on your relationship, but as much as conner loves to hear your heartbeats from any distance, he loves it all the more when the only barrier that keeps him away from your beating heart would be your skin and your ribcage.

since conner was raised with the lack of physical contact and he's the type to push people away, your physical affection towards him is something he doesn't even know he craves, not until he tastes it for himself.

you wouldn't even feel the need to tell creeps off anymore! because conner is out there intimidating every person who dares to show the slightest bit of romantic intentions towards you.

so really, is it so bad if he wants you all for himself?

you both eventually gain a codependent relationship with each other— but it's not like any of you would leave each other wanting for more, because you both are more than enough for each other.

and conner thinks it's better off if it would only be the two of you in this world.

screw your family.

[scarlet-star-witch]

yay... can you write one where you've heard all the nasty rumours about the Targaryens, especially how cruel they can be sometimes, but Aemond proves you wrong. He is sweet, kind, and compassionate towards you. You know he's not like that around other people, so you ask him why he acts different towards you.

Hope you like the request.

This took way too long for me write, but I hope this is what you were looking for!

Warnings: implied smut and a whole lotta fluff

WC: 3.2 K

~~

They say the Gods flip a coin when a Targaryen is born. Greatness or madness were the destinies that followed the otherworldly family. 

Closer to Gods than men, they would say. Quick to anger, that burned hotly, destroying those in its ruthless path.

That was all she knew of the Targaryen family. 

It was the only warning she had before she was shipped off to King’s Landing to marry the one-eyed prince. 

She knew nothing of her betrothed except for his reputation that gleamed nothing but anger and a fiercely cold nature. She didn’t want to listen to rumors, but she couldn’t help but feel apprehensive to meet the man of mystery that was Prince Aemond.

The night they first met, she had approached the table of royals, curtseying politely, her heart racing as she met the gaze of her betrothed for the first time. 

She smiled, hoping to start off on the right foot, but his expression never changed, beholding her as if bored, as if unmoved by the knowledge that she would soon be his wife. His disinterest seemed to confirm every fear she had. It left her shaken, the picture of a terrified woman at the altar who could barely meet the gaze of her new husband. 

The night of their wedding, she was terrified, practically trembling as he took her to bed. 

She had shut her eyes and prayed for the seconds to pass quickly. 

It had been awkward, stifling and uncomfortable, but it wasn’t awful. The pain was momentary and he didn’t take her like a mindless beast who only sought his own pleasure as she had been warned some men were known to act by her kind maids. 

Aemond only ever had gentle touches to give her. 

It was by no means the passionate love she had read about in books she hid from her mother, but she was at least grateful she bore no marks from a husband who only had anger to bestow upon her. 

Over the months together, they didn’t spare many words for each other. 

The Prince was polite and cordial, but their conversations never went any deeper than small talk that amounted to nothing important. 

She often found herself wondering if he even tolerated her, let alone liked her, but as the weeks passed and he stayed by her side, lingering in their chambers together, joining her for walks in the garden, did she begin to soften her opinion of him, no longer fearing his presence as she had in the beginning. 

Almost daily, she would spot him, his face impassive, almost hardened, but the moment he saw her his expression would lighten, a small smile growing as he approached her. 

He would always greet her politely and offer her his arm.

“Tell me about your home.” He asked her out of the blue one afternoon as they lounged under the shade of the Weirwood tree. 

She looked to her husband nervously, feeling exposed under his gaze that portrayed an undeniable curiosity. 

“What would you like to know?” 

“Anything you would like to tell me.” He answered with a smile that brought one to her own lips. “I will gladly take anything you are willing to give me.”

Her breath caught in her throat, surprised by his words, so brazen, so unlike the man she had thought him to be. 

Before she could speak again, Ser Criston approached the pair and she watched as Aemond’s easy expression shifted so suddenly, his face now drawn tightly into a scowl. 

“My Prince, your mother is expecting your presence in her solar.” Ser Criston reminded him.

Aemond barely spared a moment of attention to the Knight, his hand squeezing hers as if in apology for the interruption of their time together.

“She will have to wait, Ser Crsiton. I am with my wife.” 

She knew that was a moment she would not soon forget, for it was the first time she felt as though her husband cared for her, the first time she realized he didn’t loathe their arrangement. 

There were moments, too many to count now, when she couldn’t help but wonder if he longed to be closer as she would feel his gaze on her, seeking her out no matter where they were. 

At every festivity, in the midst of crowds and countless lords pushing their way to bestow well wishes onto the royal family, it never failed that she always found Aemond’s eye, his attention focused solely on her. 

Her favorite would be the moments of quiet connection in the solace of their chambers. Her eyes would wander from the book she read to land on him, barely catching a glimpse of his face before he would quickly look away from her, as if not wanting to get caught admiring his own wife. 

It always left her breathless in ways she couldn’t explain, in ways she couldn’t make sense of. 

Despite the slowly growing bond, she felt lonely in her new home without her family, without a great love to lean on. 

Music was her only escape from the isolation. She often found herself in the grand hall, hours before the festivities were to start, dodging the servants that readied the tables, just to hear the musicians practice. 

They always spotted her and, as the months dragged on, no longer looked at her in annoyance, but would smile politely and play, as if just for her, enjoying their one woman audience who seemed to hold onto every note as if it meant the world to her. 

They indulged her in the many questions she asked about their music and their instruments, letting her have her moment of reprieve. 

At every feast, as she sat by her husband’s side, her gaze would remain on the band, admiring their work others in the room steadfastly ignored

One night, as she took in the music with tranquility, a gentle hand lay over her own, startling her out of her daze. She looked over at her husband with wide eyes, confused yet surprised by the gesture. 

“Would you like to dance?” 

She froze for a moment, taken aback by his question, but finally nodded, too surprised to answer with words. 

He took her hand in his, his touch soft, as if she were made of glass, as he guided her to the floor with the other dancing couples. 

They faced each other and Aemond wasted no time in laying his hand on her waist, bringing her in closer to him. 

She felt nerves creep through her as they danced. She could feel his eye on her as they twirled, as he brought her back into his arms, as he held her close. 

Finally gaining the courage to meet his gaze, she found his eye held nothing but light, a look of contentment watching her carefully. 

A flutter unfurled in her chest, a feeling she had never felt before. The way he looked at her made her cheeks heat and she could’ve sworn she saw him smile, as if he knew what he was doing to her. 

She couldn’t help but wonder if his touch was supposed to make her feel so cared for, if he knew it was making her melt. 

A part of her desperately hoped he did. 

~~

Aemond had been ready to write her off completely, to resign himself to the fact that he was to marry a spoiled girl who would cower at the sight of him. 

He’d had enough of meeting Ladies who flinched or outright winced at the sight of him and his scar, that whispered they could never lay with, let alone marry, a man with such a deformity. 

But the moment he met her, as she met his gaze with little hesitation, as she smiled his way, a gleam of hope in her eyes, did he feel as though his entire world tilted on its axis. 

It wasn’t until her smile faltered, her eyes averting from his shyly that he realized he hadn’t returned her smile, had only stared back at her as if disinterested. 

He had cursed to himself, close to letting Aegon smack him for being so hopeless. 

He could plainly see her fear on the day of the wedding, had whispered apologies he didn’t think she heard as he took her to bed for the first time, had tried his best to assuage her nerves, yet he knew it was because of him, because of that first damned look that he ruined everything before it even began.

 He longed to reach out to her, to apologize for his abysmal first impression, but he found he couldn’t muster the words, or the courage. 

So he settled for admiring her from afar, entirely discontented by the distance but unsure of how to bridge it. 

He spent his days with her, his mind torturously blank, no words coming to him to at least try to begin a bond with her, his sweet wife that never looked at him as though he was a deformed monster as the other ladies in the Keep had. 

He had no idea how, or that he was even capable of such a connection, but he couldn’t help but feel lighter in her presence. Knowing such a sweet woman who never had a harsh word to say about anyone, especially him, left him longing to bestow every praise and sweet nothing upon her. 

He never considered himself to be swayed by such romantic ideals, but whenever he was face to face with his wife, he found himself wishing he had spent more time perusing through the books of poetry in the library rather than the history tomes. 

He wished he had the words to tell her how absolutely magical he found her, how her smile lit any room she was in, how he wished he could bathe in her warmth, how much he appreciated that she looked at him so differently than any other lady in the court had. 

He found himself seeking her out any time he was not with her. 

“Have you seen my wife?” He asked a member of the White Cloaks, becoming desperate after having no luck finding her in the gardens or with Helaena or his mother. 

“There is a feast tonight. Your Lady wife is known to spend time watching the musicians practice. My best guess would be to look for her there.”

Aemond’s brows furrowed at the answer. 

“The musicians?”

“Yes, my Prince. She seems quite fond of them.” 

His stomach twisted at the realization there was something his wife was so obviously delighted by that he had no idea of and he quickly made his way towards the great hall, spotting, not his wife, but a group of musicians assembling their instruments. 

“My Prince.” The lead conductor bowed to him politely when he noticed his presence. “I am glad to see you, we were just discussing your Lady wife and we would appreciate if you would speak to her about her presence here as we prac-”

“You will allow her to watch.” Aemond interrupted the man, looking at him sternly, as if daring the man to defy him. “You will indulge her with your practice. You will answer any question she poses and if she deems it a want, you will let her play your damn instruments.”

After his warning, he began to watch his wife, smiling to himself as he noticed the look of delight in her gaze as she watched the musicians perform. 

It took weeks to build the courage, but one night as the band played and she watched with eagerness, he asked her to dance for the first time since their wedding. 

That night, he had never felt so nervous as he danced with her, but he felt closer to her than ever before. 

That night, she seemed to feel it too as she looked at him with a desire he had never seen from her before as they retreated to their chambers for the night. 

That night, he made love to her. He touched her so softly, reveling in her beautiful moans and cries of his name. He felt as though he was a God as she felt her touch on him, as he felt the sting of her nails in his back as he thrusted into her with a desperation so unknown to him. 

It was the first time they felt so connected to each other. 

As they lay with each other, their hearts slowing their rhythm from their peaks, he held her in his arms, not yet ready to lose the feel of her touch just yet. 

“Tell me about the music.” He asked softly. 

She laughed softly, the sound like heavenly bells to his ears. The knowledge that he had even noticed her infatuation with music was enough to have butterflies unleashed within her. 

“My mother used to play the harp. Apparently, when I was a babe, the sound of her harp was the only thing that could calm me down, the only thing that would stop my crying. She would always make up songs to sing me to sleep.” She explained wistfully and he listened to every word. 

“Sometimes I feel as though my mind gets too loud. There are too many thoughts that are entirely unhelpful and… I don’t know, it sounds silly, but I think music is the only thing that quiets it, that brings me back down to myself when those thoughts take over.”

“It’s not silly.” He told her earnestly. “I think it’s beautiful to admire something so passionately.” 

“I wish I could learn to play myself, but I don’t think I have the patience for it.”

Aemond scoffed, the sound holding nothing but disbelief. 

“My sweet wife, you are the most patient person I have ever met in my life. If you can conquer me, you can conquer anything.”

“Have I conquered you?” She asked, looking up at him with a playful challenge, to which he smiled. 

“You certainly have.”

She smiled and leaned in closer to his touch, finally feeling as though they were on the same wavelength. 

By the next morning, Aemond was gone before she woke. 

Her maids helped her get dressed for the morning and they couldn’t help but notice the lovesick smile that adorned her lips. 

“You seem quite happy this morning, my Lady.”

She blushed and bowed her head bashfully. 

“This wouldn’t have anything to do with the Prince, would it?” Her maid teased, the group of them laughing as their Lady swatted their hands playfully. 

“I have never seen Prince Aemond so smitten before.” One of the younger maids commented. “You seem to have him under a spell, my Lady. I don’t think I had ever seen him smile until you came around.”

“Oh yes, he was always so surly. I was terrified to even pass him in the halls.” They continued as if she were no longer there, not noticing the surprise on her face as they spoke of her husband. “He seems like a different person. He is nothing but a lovesick fool now.” 

She felt as though her heart would burst as she listened to their words. 

Only a few minutes later, as she was dressed, did her husband return. His smile faltered at the sight of her maids and he seemed to retreat into himself, his cool demeanor shifting into one of discomfort, his body rigid, his nod of acknowledgement stiff. 

Her maids giggled to themselves and bid her goodbye before leaving. 

Only then did Aemond relax once again, his expression now nothing but one of love as he approached her. 

“I have something for you.”

She raised a brow in question as he took a seat next to her. 

He then handed her a stack of papers. She didn’t recognize what they were at first, her eyes flitting over the markings over the page, before it suddenly dawned on her. 

It was sheet music. 

“You said you wished to learn.” 

Her lips parted, but no words came. She was stunned to silence, his gesture, so thoughtful, had her floored. 

“This is… I don’t know what to say.” She spoke quietly. She looked to her husband and felt so unprepared for the love she would feel for him, in disbelief that the man she had been terrified to marry could make her feel this way.

“What is it?” Aemond asked worriedly, watching as her expression became one of thoughtful contemplation, suddenly fearing he had overstepped in some way. 

“Why me?” 

The question caught him off guard and his frown deepened, his heart beginning to race as doubt crept through him.

“What do you mean?”

“You do not act this way with anyone else. The maids were practically terrified of you before. You never smile with anyone but me. I don’t understand what is so special about me to have a place in your heart.” 

The insecurities came spilling out before she could stop them, leaving her feeling more exposed than she intended and suddenly wishing the ground would swallow her whole. 

Aemond’s face shifted, his eye looking at her with a mix of disbelief and sadness. He leaned in close to her, his hand reaching out to cradle her jaw. 

“You cannot truly mean that.” He whispered, as if his words had physically hurt him. “Do you really not see how easily you have carved yourself into my heart?”

She didn’t have an answer and merely looked stunned by his words. 

He let out a long breath and hesitated, his teeth worrying his bottom lip for a moment before his hand reached out and slowly took his eyepatch off. 

She felt as though her breath was stolen from her as she saw the sparkling sapphire in place of his eye. 

He watched her carefully and as he saw only awe in her gaze, did he feel as though he could melt into nothing. 

He smiled and took her hand, guiding her to the scarred side of his face, laying her palm against his skin. 

“I was ridiculed my entire life, looked at as if I were a monster because of what was taken from me the night I claimed Vhagar.” He told her, almost shuddering under her touch as her thumb grazed the edge of his scar. 

“You have never once looked at me as though I was less, or that my scar made me someone unlovable.” 

Her gaze met his and she was floored by the genuine reverence with which he looked at her. 

“That night, I was kicking myself for not returning your smile, but I…” He paused, letting out a small, bashful laugh. “I was too in awe of you to do anything but stare like a fool.” 

“You don’t understand what is so special about yourself?” He repeated, a tone of derision in his voice as if it disgusted him to even speak the words aloud. “Darling, you had me bewitched from the very first moment I saw you.”

She let out a laugh, her eyes beginning to brim with tears, his words wrapping around her like the warm embrace of a lover. 

He leaned in, his nose brushing against hers.

“I am truly sorry I made you feel as though there was any doubt. I’ll have to try harder to make you realize you are the most special being in this entire castle.”

Her laugh was cut off as he crashed his lips to hers, kissing her with the ferocity of a dragon in love. 

[flowerandblood]

Rip my heart, heal my soul Inside Alphabet

[ Jack the Ripper • modern!Aemond x female ]

Inside Alphabet for Aemond from my series Rip my heart, heal my soul after he met his girl, made for my one year celebration. Very dark content below.

A = Anger (do they get mad and how they react to it)

Before he met his sweet girl, rage, a sense of injustice and aggression accompanied him all the time. In fact, he took it out on his victims, feeling momentary peace, satisfaction and fatigue only when he killed them. However, the euphoric stage was too short-lived for his liking, so he had to quickly find new objects of interest to repeat the whole process.

When a woman was aggressive or rude to him, she could count on him to end her life even if she was not to his taste and he originally had no plan to do anything to her.

After he met her, his frustration and aggression subsided to practically zero. He replaced the adrenaline and endorphin that was secreted in his brain when he was killing with her constant closeness, both physical and spiritual. If he needed to get off, rough, violent sex would suffice, but the kind that wouldn't cause her any real harm. He would never want to hurt her.

B = Behavior (tics, reflexes, things specific to them)

His hands often tremble, usually from excitement or nerves, so he plays with, for example, a glass in his hand, a cloth slung over his shoulder, a cigarette, his jacket, anything to keep his fingers busy. He even feels a tickle in his fingertips when he thinks about killing. Apart from that, he talks to himself a lot under his breath when he thinks about something intensely.

C = Crying (whether they cry & do what when someone else cries)

He actually cries a lot, especially when he lets his consciousness take over for a while and he realises again what he has done to all these women. This knowledge crushes him and he becomes hysterical until she calms him down with her closeness, tenderness and warm words, even though he knows that he does not deserve to be comforted.

D = Despair (who they seek help from first)

When he panics, he calls her first before he does something stupid. He tries not to make any rash decisions before he talks to her. Often her voice alone and her soothing words calm him down and make him realise that the situation is not as bad as he feared.

E = Enemy (who they hate or argue with most often)

He hated women who reminded him of the girls who teased and mocked him in high school. There were several, but the worst was one of them, a dark-haired, petite, sweet girl who only pretended to be nice.

She flirted with a lot of boys, cheating on them, and made fun of him, saying that if he was desperate, she could take his virginity because he might never get the chance to make love to a woman with that appearance.

These words left a mark on him, completely killing his already low self-esteem. He began to exercise, changed his style of dress and conversation, and when he returned to school after the summer holidays, he found that she didn't recognise him until she saw his scar up close.

He felt a sense of power over her and satisfaction at the thought that she was now the one who followed him around and begged for his attention, the more he was secretive and withdrawn, the more he teased her, the more she was in love with him.

She was very insistent that they go to bed together, and when they finally did, she was not happy with how inexperienced he was. Her remarks and the look on her face full of disappointment enraged him so much that he strangled her with the string she used to tie her dress around her waist.

When she stopped moving he was terrified and tried to wake her up, however, in addition to the fear he also felt an immense satisfaction that this dumb bitch was no longer laughing.

She had mocked him and was now lying there with a blank stare, a fucking slut who deserved everything that had happened to her.

He decided afterwards that he wished he'd caused her more pain before he killed her, that he had said all those things to her that had been pressing to his lips.

His girlfriend reminded him a lot of her in some ways, so he had originally considered her the perfect target for his next victim, believing that she was simply faking it.

He tried to catch her in a lie, gossip or words she would normally be ashamed of if she didn't trust him, but his plan backfired a tad because he fell in love with her instead.

F = Friends (do they have and who they consider friends)

She is his only real friend.

G = Gifts (whether they like gifts and give them themselves)

He loves to make his sweet girl little presents, he knows what kind of buns she likes to eat so he always buys her fresh ones after work so she can eat them for dinner and in the morning before class, he buys her books, notebooks and anything he thinks she will find useful and enjoy, always excitedly waiting for her reaction.

When he gets gifts from her, when she turns out to have remembered his birthday or anniversary, he feels happy, ashamed and remorseful at the same time, thinking that after all he has done he does not deserve any presents, much less from her.

H = Hobby (what they do for pleasure in their free time)

Reading.

I = Idol (their role model)

In fact, she is his role model. Every day he watches her and learns from her how to deal with everyday problems and adversities in a calm and composed manner, at the same time filled with hope and reason. She is the one he counsels when he doesn't know how to solve his problem, not wanting to use violence any more, and he usually gets an answer from her that satisfies him and, in his mind, makes sense.

J = Jokes (how they react to jokes and if they laugh)

No joking. He doesn't even know how to do it. He laughs sometimes when she does something silly.

K = Kids (do they want to have them)

Some part of him would like to have a family, but he would be afraid that his children would be like him. He would also be afraid that he would then have to share his beloved, that a child would take her away from him to some extent. He knows that he is perhaps too possessive for that and would rather not risk it.

However, he would never force her to terminate the pregnancy if she decided that she wanted to keep the child. He would then try to deal with it somehow, but it would be very difficult for him because of what would be going on in his head.

L = Love (anything to do with falling in love)

Before he met her, he did not believe in love or that he was capable of it. He believed that he could not be loved and that women who bestow affection on him simply want to go to bed with him and fall in love with someone they have made up themselves, in some imagined version of him, rather than the monster he really was.

When he met her, however, it became apparent that something was beginning to happen inside him. He felt warmth at the sight of her as she crossed the door of the café, the rapid beating of his heart and the trembling of his hands as he handed her an order and exchanged a few words with her, the things he had learned about her and the articles she had written made some part of him want to get to know her instead of trying to drag her to bed, and once that happened he was unable to hurt her.

M = Manners (how they behave in formal situations)

He is cold and withdrawn. He hates talking to strangers and dies when he has to call the doctor or get anything done at the office. He begs her to do it for him, but she refuses, saying that he has to deal with such things on his own. He literally dies then, but he tries, for her. To make her proud of him.

N = Nightmare (their worst nightmare)

He often dreams that he wakes up next to her and she is lying beside him with empty eye sockets, covered in blood, dead. He doesn't remember anything, he can't believe that he did it, but he also sees traces of blood on his hands. He then wakes up, for real this time, and grabs her, begging her to say something, and she looks at him terrified, snapped out of a deep sleep, asking him if he's been having nightmares again.

Usually then he starts crying in relief, unable to even answer her question, sobbing hugged to her chest, and she embraces him and strokes his hair, whispering that everything is okay.

He dies of fear when she goes off somewhere alone and doesn't respond to his messages for too long. He's ready to quit mid-shift, get straight into the car and drive to wherever she is, just to make sure she's okay. He drives her crazy with his overprotectiveness.

He would be devastated if she broke up with him. He would be afraid he would do something to her in an act of desperation or go back to murdering again.

O = Origin (their childhood)

He grew up in a family where money was always in short supply. His father died when he was very young and his mother worked several shifts to support him and his siblings. When the terrible accident happened to him and he lost his eye, his mother could not afford the expensive treatment, so his scar did not heal as well as it could have.

For a long time he wore the cheapest glass eye, which looked awful and made other children afraid of him. It wasn't until he was in high school that he managed to get a refund from the country for a better one, one that is almost no different from a normal one.

P = Proximity (what they are like when they are intimate)

Before her, he associated proximity only with animalistic closeness and aggression, so he did not see it as anything pleasant or desirable.

Only when he met his girlfriend did he desire this closeness in a different way, wanting simply to touch her, feel her and experience fulfilment with her. It turned out that her touch, full of respect, warmth and care even calmed him down, and sex with her became his favourite way to relax.

Q = Quiz (whether they like to play and how)

He enjoys playing chess or other logic games.

R = Routine (do they have a daily routine and what is it)

He always sets himself a routine for the day, which he sticks to and which his girlfriend knows he hates when someone disorganises it for him. They have agreed that they will always set all changes in advance and try not to surprise each other with anything unless something happens that neither of them had control over.

He didn't resent her when she became unwell and he had to take her to the doctor even though he should have been at work, it is obvious that her and his wellbeing are of utmost importance to him.

S = Safety (whether and where they feel safe)

He only feels safe when he sleeps cuddled up against her breasts in their bed, making sure he has locked the door on both locks beforehand.

T = Touch (who they allow to touch and how)

Only she can touch him. He loves her hands, the way she touches his bare skin with them, his chest, his cheeks, his shoulders, when she kisses him, or when she comes close and embraces him from behind at the waist.

In the case of any other person, he tenses up all over and pulls away, furious, thinking that this is a right meant only for the woman he loves. When any strange woman touches him he bursts into a rage, he then snorts for air and counts to thirty, waiting for the wave of anger to pass away.

U = Unforgivable (things they would not forgive)

Lying.

He would never forgive her if she lied to him, even if it was some small thing. He would rather she say she doesn't know something or isn't sure than say something that would later turn out not to be true. He often checks what she says with the facts and is relieved every time her words are confirmed. He trusts her, but at the same time he is still afraid that she will start hiding something from him.

Betrayal.

I don't even have to write what he would do then. He would kill her first and then himself.

V = Vengeance (whether they are vengeful and how)

He is very vindictive and only her pleas and requests make him let strangers off the hook for certain things. He is very easily annoyed or offended and often winning his forgiveness is impossible.

W = Warderobe (what they wear, what style they have)

He dresses simply but elegantly. He loves fitted, dark jumpers and turtlenecks worn with black trousers.

Y = Yearning (whether they yearn and how they express it)

He dies of longing when she goes out somewhere alone with her friends. He lets her do it because he knows she needs it, but he wants to cry then. He is emotionally unstable and sees the very worst scenarios in his mind − above all that something will happen to her.

He constantly craves her, when she is tired several days in a row he starts to worry that she doesn't love him anymore, that he has done something wrong. Usually when she comes back to strength she shows him how wrong he was and then he feels that wonderful, overpowering relief again, which passes every time he has to separate from her again.

His dream would be to die lying in bed with her, cuddled up against her naked body, with his manhood deep inside her, his nose filled with her scent, listening to her calm breathing.

Z = Zone (their comfort zone)

He feels comfort when he is with her in their flat. This is where he's calm and composed and does not feel any frustration or anger.

When he goes outside and has contact with strangers he feels threatened, even more so when she is next to him and he has to worry about her too.

He then holds her hand in his to make sure he doesn't lose her somewhere among the crowds, watching the people around them like a guard, protecting her in his mind from other people like him.

[lucilleslore]

you get hurt - twd reactions.

about: how daryl, negan and rick would react in a situation where you get hurt.

includes: minor injuries, maybe some ooc writing it’s my first time!

DARYL

it doesn’t hit daryl at first when you trip and fall, his mouth already having upturned at your known clumsiness. ‘c’mon kid, get up,’ he’d say softly, the amusement evident in his tone. ‘don’t have all day.’ you’d try of course, and that’s when he sees the odd angle of your ankle, the way your weight is balanced on one leg. his stomach plummets at the grimace on your features, the groans you’re keeping in.

you could hear the walkers closing in, their noises an ugly soundtrack to your pain. ‘just go -’

‘don’t be stupid,’ he’d reply instantly, eyes glaring heavily in your direction. you see the cogs turning, his survival instincts kicking in as he tries to figure out how to get the two of you out of there alive. that’s before he’s scooping you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, grumbling apologetically all the while. his hand massages at the soft skin of your thigh as he moves and it’s so reassuring in that moment you want to cry. ‘fuckin’ mad if you think i’d leave you behind, sweetheart.’

once he gets you safely home and to a doctor he’s more fussy than you. asking all sorts of questions about what is being done to you but he’s also doting - pushing back your hair from your head, squeezing your hand when you need it. he definitely falls asleep next to your bed at the end of the night.

NEGAN

the doctor tending to your burn looks uncomfortable as negan circles him like he’s prey. lucille hits loudly off the floor at your every wince, moan and curse and his anger at the situation fills the whole room.

it really was a simple mistake - you’d just gotten in the way whilst some new saviour was preparing the iron, the tip of it just barely grazing your upper arm - but negan was fuming. you kept catching his eyes zeroing in on the mark, like he could somehow make it vanish by scaring it away. ‘it’s not a serious burn,’ the doctor starts nervously, obviously trying to break some tension.

‘do i look like i care how fucking serious it is?’ he’d return, that sinister smile of his taking up his features. he stands still behind you at last, one hand holding lucille in the man’s direction, the other one coming to rub at your scalp. you lean back into his chest, finding momentary peace in his presence - no matter how worked up he is. ‘she’s in pain, that’s all that matters and if you don’t find a way to fix it?’ negans tongue clicks against the roof of his mouth, lucille moving closer and closer to the poor man’s face. he scurries away to his cabinets, eagerly looking for something.

‘s really not that bad,’ you murmur softly, trying to ease him down. you try to joke but it doesn’t work, that anger still brewing behind his eyes. ‘i’m more worried about you. you gonna make fun of me now like you do dwight?’

his eyes soften momentarily before he drops a kiss on your forehead. ‘course not, doll. you tell me if anyone does. they’ll face the iron themselves.’

RICK

you’re resting when rick rushes into the infirmary. he was gone, off trying to clear the herd of walkers when alexandria came under attack, leaving you and others badly injured. the bullet didn’t hit anything vital but you’re tired after being worked on for hours, eyes blinking blearily up at him as he leans over you.

his own features are tired - exhausted more like - but clouded with worry and angst. ‘are you alright?’ his voice is hoarse

‘right as rain,’ you sigh, trying to put on the charm you usually have. you can see it fails when his brow furrows, ricks head dropping into his hands as he sits by your bedside. your fingers find their way into his hair as you murmur, ‘please don’t worry about me, rick. i’m being taken care of.’

‘but that’s the thing,’ he sighs, a hint of impatience in his voice. ‘i do worry about you! every minute of every damn day, i worry about you. you think i enjoy being out there? leavin’ you here by yourself? look what happens!’ his hands gesture to you now, a pained expression on his weary features.

your own face is a mixture of shock and sorrow. finding yourself at a loss for words you tap the empty space of bed beside you. a small smile is given to you in return before rick climbs in beside you, albeit clumsily. ‘just want to keep you safe ‘s all,’ he whispers into your neck once he gets settled.

[shotmrmiller]

just curious what makes kyle more insane than johnny

imo, it's the type of anger they are.

johnny's a flash fire. intense, but vanishes as quickly as it came, fleeting. a momentary loss of control. it doesn't really define him.

kyle though. he's a dormant volcano. the rage burrowed deep in his chest, it's like magma. a molten core of raw anger that leaks through the cracks of his foundation with every brawl he's in. it seeps from his injuries, scalding hot. each fight is like a release valve, relieving pressure from within.

his anger is a beast he's long caged, but it rattles the bars, restless, pacing in its prison. and what makes him so dangerous/crazy is that he keeps it in check.

kyle tittering on the sharpened edge of sanity, madness yawning beneath his feet, ready to swallow him right on up. TELL ME THAT ISN'T STRAIGHT UP SCARY.

[ladey]

hellooo, could i maybe request a jinx x firelight!reader? (doesn’t matter if it’s smut or not, it’s up to you!!!!)

ofc pookie😘

notes: bullet point format, one mention of sex at the end

jinx x female firelight!reader ᥫ᭡

for jinx to end up with a firelight, the two would've had to face a lot of tension and rivalry in the beginning. for obvious reasons of course.

i'd say it likely began during a firelight ambush: jinx had one of y/n's friends cornered, ready to make the final blow before y/n came in clunch and jumped her.

she was mad too. y/n wasn't gonna let that slide😤. jinx was someone that both angered and annoyed her in general. so of course that means the two of them went ham on each other. (👀)

when jinx noticed just how ferocious of a fighter y/n was and how hard it was gonna be to make her let up, not to mention the lowkey belittling things she said, she hence forth declared the girl as a main target for next time. and any time, really.

next time was the same. and each time the tension was palpable; the moment their eyes locked on each other, it was game on.

but after a while the two of them started keeping an eye out for each other without any actual provocation; when neither of them were around. jinx especially, she was spiteful that she couldn't get this girl to be scared of her and lay off.

however a part of her enjoyed the challenge and having someone to mess with. plus she's pretty good looking- wait whaat who said that?!😳

as for y/n, she started to talk shit about jinx with ekko and her friends more often. which made them irritated but also suspicious.. like they know how annoying jinx is but damn girl you dont needa bring her up all the time.🤨

and then an encounter happened: a moment where the two of them were alone. in an alleyway, because y/n couldn't bring too much attention to herself considering her gang.

lots of teasing and picking on from jinx's side. pining against the wall and not so discreetly lip checking.

y/n fought off the way her heart picked up and her body buzzed in a frenzy. why was her body reacting that way? why was she all of a sudden giddy to see her? she should've hated jinx. hated what she stood for, hated her for the inhuman things she had done.

but soon, their interactions got increasingly less hostile and mean. jinx actively seeked y/n out, y/n sneaked out to meet her. she couldn't be caught by ekko going to spend time with their enemy!

"enemy." right..... well that title flew out of the window when they finally had their first kiss after running away from a brut of a man that jinx provoked.

she couldn't stop staring at y/n's smile as she bent over in laughter. she made them laugh like that. she was able to give them a good time worth spending. jinx never felt useful like that before.

and when their eyes locked, the breath left from her lungs. next thing she knew, their lips were pressed hard against one another.

y/n felt terribly conflicted. she knew deep down before admitting it to herself that she had romantic feelings for the crazy blue haired girl. and that was what troubled her: jinx was crazy, insane.

but during their time together, they really got to know each other, even in weird ways. and y/n knew jinx had a soft tender side of her that was attentive and loyal. protective as well..

if she was being honest with herself, she couldn't bring herself to care much. neither could jinx after her momentary freak out before y/n pulled her back in.

from then on, they are girlfriend and girlfriend! 😝

there is still a lot of sneaking, y/n doesn't dare mention it to anyone.

during ambushes, jinx and y/n may "play fight" so no one noticed a shift in their behavior, and argue about putting a cut or a bruise just to be all the more convincing.

jinx can't pull herself off of y/n and she feels horrible about any mark that she inflicts upon her, cleaning her up and apologizing profusely. y/n melts every time.

jinx loves sneaking around, she feeds off the adrenaline of risking themselves getting caught.

y/n feels like she's living two different lives. regardless of whether it guess stressful at times, she still wouldn't want it any other way.

jinx has to come up with a lie whenever silco asks her what has her smiling so big to herself.

they spend most of their time in quainter areas of the city or jinx's weird hideout. both of them are very sneaky, only rarely do they come close to getting caught.

only twice have they almost been seen by silco: jinx had just sat y/n on her workbench and slid her hand down her panties when the loud reverberating noise of the door sounded through the room. y/n never fled so fast.

for the time being they are content. hopefully in the future the two can be together without the worries of being caught by both opposing sides. but lets focus on the present for now, shall we!?

sorry this lowkey kinda bad lol i started to rush near the end. my bad pookie 😔

[l0k10fasg4rd]

true king

Pairing TTDW loki x afab!pregnant reader!

MIDI!!! YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED AND WILL BE BLOCKED!!!

warnings!: smut!-mentions of death and mourning over a passed loved one (not Loki btw but his "death" is mentioned)

i haven't properly spell or grammar checked as i wrote this though the whole night and am currently fighting my sleep demon XD.

i hope you enjoy the story! gif not mine :3

As y/n hurried down the halls to the dungeon where Odin banished your husband Loki you quietly avoided the guards and approached Loki’s cell, you stared at your husband for a moment observing him as he stares blankly up at the ceiling, his face lacked emotion as he tossing a cup in the air and catching it repeatedly. 

“Loki” y/n whispered awaiting a response from the prince. Loki stopped tossing the cup and after a long awkward silence his eyes turned towards the familiar voice who stood just outside his cell. “What is  it” He said bleakly.  y/n took a deep breath to prepare for the unfortunate news she was about to tell her husband “I have bad news.. It's about your mother Loki.” He immediately sat upright, a bit of colour returned to his pale face. “What about her? My mother is fine…”  He said quietly, as y/n said with an uncertain face, hesitant to tell him. 

His breathing began to speed up as his heartbeat began to race. The worst news had come true. “W-what happened?” He asked with a shaky voice full of panic. y/n entered the cell with her magic and embraced “she was murdered by the dark elf Malekith.. I'm so sorry Loki. Odin is going to hold a ceremony tonight, I tried talking him into bringing you but he refused my request”. 

He leaned into your embrace, his cold body beginning to shake. He wanted to say something but the words became trapped in his throat, he had to compose himself, he had to be strong and yet he couldn’t help but bury his face in the crook of your neck. “M-my mother… is dead?” He managed to say, his voice shaking. “Why?”

y/n was hesitant on repeating what thor told her, wanting no more than it to be untrue “Thor said you lead one of malekith's guards to her, they found her and she sacrificed her life for jane to protect her.” y/n said choking on her own sobs. 

Loki immediately pulled away from y/n, anger starting to boil inside of him. He ripped himself away away from y/n’s embrace, pacing back and forth across the cell, trying to keep his temper under control. His eyes were wild, he looked almost possessed. “That’s impossible! I would never endanger my mother! That’s a lie, I only wanted to lead them to thor!” He growled, his chest rising up and down in anger and panic. 

“I believe you, and understand your pain. I too am mourning your mother” I embrace loki again this time more gentle and assuring, He let out a deep exhale as you embraced him again, it felt nice to be comforted in that moment. y/n whispered to loki " I need to get you out of here, we should run away.” But as the anger began to subside and he thought about your suggestion he pulled away once again, this time looking at you like you had lost your mind. “Run away? Are you mad?” loki looked in y/n in her eyes “Odin has sentenced you in jail for LIFE? Do you want to sit and rot here for the rest of your life?? Loki I need you, I can live without you, you are everything to me, I need to get you out of here you don't deserve the sentence your father gave you.” y/n whispered to loki “I wanted to start a family with you loki, the day our wedding was arranged I knew I wanted to live the rest of my life with you till the very day I die, I was willing to sacrifice everything for you my love.” 

Loki stood there in momentary silence, he took in what you were saying, and it was true. The thought of rotting away in a cell for the rest of his days did not appeal to him. He thought of the life he could have. The life he promised to you. And yet he could not help the uncertainty that plagued his mind. “But… my father will come after us.” He spoke quietly looking deeply in y/n eyes. “Not if we plan to usurp him?” I look up and grin at Loki “I've got a plan” I smile  “while I was banished to Midgard there were these homes for old people where he can stay, if you trick Odin to going down to Midgard and staying there you shapeshift and can take his place AS Odin, no one will know, not even Thor" I lightly smile and raise my eyebrows at Loki. 

loki was quiet for a moment, thinking over your idea and the grin on your face. He couldn’t believe you were even suggesting such a thing. The idea of him taking his fathers place was insane, and yet it intrigued him.

“That is…. One of the most ridiculous plans I have ever heard.” He couldn’t help but admit, “in all honesty, it was a very risky plan, but it could work if they play their cards right.” he grinned at y/n. 

*time skip after Loki fakes his death to save Thor and takes the throne as 'Odin'*

As Loki sits on the throne, dressed in the clothes of Odin, he still couldn’t believe the insane plan had worked. Sitting in the throne room all alone with only the sounds of the large empty room, he couldn’t help the thoughts of doubt that plagued his mind. What if someone discovered the truth? What was his next move? He had so many questions that ran through his mind and yet one question came to the forefront of his mind

‘When will I see her again?’ 

I walk down the massive hallway to the throne as I see 'odin', he couldn’t help but allow a small smile to creep on his face as y/n made her way down the hall, as she came to a stop at the bottom of the stairs she spoke greatly “the furious 3 and i have had another successful mission in Svartalfheim, but i come to inform you all-father that i am retiring my role as a warrior..  " ‘odin’ gave y/n a questionable face, y/n turned to look at the guards. “I would like to talk to odin alone.” The guards looked at each other and turned to walk out of the throne room “you are doing a wonderful job as king my love, I'm so proud of you” y/n said with a huge grin on her face “but i'm here to come to tell you some wonderful news loki.” 

“Oh? And what would this news be?” I would like to see my husband for this matter not odin "i giggle, as I awaited loki to shift back to his normal form" I am with child loki. your child” A look of shock washes over loki as he heard you say you were with child. He couldn’t believe it, a child. The idea of being a father frightened him, but it also filled him with so much joy.

“Y-you’re carrying my child?” He asks, a mix of excitement and slight fear in his voice. 

Loki stood up from the throne, almost stumbling as he tried to make his way down the steps towards you. “Oh, my darling…” He said quietly, smiling, he walked up to you, gently taking your hand into his. “Are you sure? How long have you known?” Loki questioned  “This morning, I went to the nurses to get checked and they told me the good news. They are also worried though, they are uncertain who the father is and think I'm going to care for this child alone, y/n concerned about what people would think if they found out that you are carrying the late prince's child. 

Loki smile fades as you tell him what the nurses said to you. A look of anger appears on his face at the thought of you being shunned and forced to raise the child on your own

“They said that? How dare they… As if I would ever leave you alone in this.” He placed a gentle hand under your chin, lifting your head to look up at him.

“You will never be alone with this child, darling.” A tear fell down y/n face, loki gently brings a hand up to your face, gently wiping away the tear that fell. He smiles lightly and places a kiss on your forehead  “I love you so much loki, please meet me in my quarters tonight I have a surprise to give you” y/n said and kissed loki goodbye. “And I love you too, my darling. I will come to your quarters this evening. I can’t wait to see what you have for me.” 

*time skip to me waiting in my chambers bathing waiting for loki to finish his 'odin' duties*

Finally, after an exhausting evening of playing as ‘Odin’ Loki was able to excuse himself to retire for the evening. The long robes of the all-father still weighed heavily on his body, and all he wanted to do now was shed them and lay in bed with you. He quietly made his way through the halls, eventually reaching your chambers. 

y/n laid in her bath not noticing loki entering their chambers, I rubbed my belly not even a bump yet as I lay and thought about what to name the child, lost in her own thoughts she hadn't noticed loki watching her.  As Loki quietly opened the bathroom door without you knowing, a smile curled onto his face as he quietly watched y/n from the doorframe. He took a moment to simply observe you, the way you rubbed your stomach lovingly, a sweet, almost motherly look on your face as your head leaned back against the tub.

y/n thought out loud looking out the massive window looking out into the starry night “how did you do it frigga.. you were such a good mother to thor and loki and they turned out to be the most finest men in their own way, I'm worried I won't be as a good as you in a motherly role, I miss you so much frigga I know you would of been so happy to have found out loki was having a child, you would be so proud of him” y/n cries silently as the pregnancy hormones kick in, mourning her late mother-in-law, a small pang of sadness shooting through his chest at your mention of his mother. Frigga would have been more than happy to learn she would be a grandmother to Loki and y/n child. y/n whispered to herself"I hope loki likes my present I made for him. 

Loki was deep in thoughts and admiring y/n but were cut short as y/n turned to look at her bed where the present layed she saw a figure and screamed out of shock not knowing it was loki. “Darling! It’s me!” loki quickly assured and entered the bathroom. “LOKI WHAT THE HELL! WHY ARE YOU STANDING THERE!” y/n put a hand on my her bare chest. He couldn’t help but chuckle at your reaction, his smile growing as you attempted to calm yourself down, you nearly scared me to death, she said while laughing harder, she started to quiet down as she took a deep breath and recollect myself, she then paused for a moment and realised “how long were you standing there loki. her face now full of concern as the thought of him hearing what she said to herself would upset loki. His smile faded, however, as you asked how long he had been standing there. He looked down at the floor for a moment, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly

“Well… I may have heard a… fair bit.” He hesitantly admitted, his eyes refusing to meet yours.

y/n had a look of regret thinking I may of have offended loki about talking myself down about being a good mother “I'm sorry" y/n said looking down in disapointment, tears are flowing down her face" I want to be a good mother like frigga, she raised you and thor so wonderfully I'm scared I won't be like that for our child" she look at loki still crying" I know you'll be the best father but I'm so scared that I won't be the best mother” she cried harder. 

loki couldn’t help but have his heart break as tears began to fall down your face. He quickly closed the distance between the two of you, dropping down to his knees in front of the side of the tub, gently cupping your face in his hands and forcing you to look at him

“Darling, please don’t cry, You will be a wonderful mother.”

He said quietly, his thumbs gently caressing your wet, tear-stained cheeks. 

y/n looked loki in his green beautiful eyes and smiled lightly "thank you my love" embarrassment washed over me as I realised my pregnancy hormones got over her "I'm so sorry I think it's the pregnancy hormones that got over me, oh this is embarrassing" she laughe slightly and look at loki lovingly "you should get in the tub with me my love, you've had a busy day you should relax with me before I give you my present" y/n gave loki a squick smirk. 

loki chuckled, his eyes locking with yours as a smile crept onto his face. He couldn’t think of a more wonderful way to end this night. He quickly stood up, removing his outer robes, dropping them on the floor next to him. “I would love nothing more, darling.”

He said as he climbed into the tub, positioning himself behind you, allowing you to lean back against his bare chest, loki then grabbed a damp cloth and soaped it up and stared to massage your shoulders. y/n relaxed into loki’s chest "I can't wait to bring our child into this world" she smiled as she grab Loki's larger hand and placed it on her belly. 

A wave of excitement washes over loki as you place his hand upon your stomach. He couldn’t help but let out a deep exhale as he caressed your stomach gently under the water. His mind began to race with thoughts, wondering what their child will look like, will they have your eyes, or his. He couldn’t wait to find out “Neither can I, love. This child will be absolutely beautiful.” y/n look up at loki behind her “I hope they are like you my love, to have a little trickster running around the halls of asgard, and you and I teaching them magic." y/n smiled and turned her body around to face loki in the tub and kiss loki on the lips deeply, I felt his hands hold my hips as a straddle his waist. 

He couldn’t help but picture the sweet image you had just painted in his mind, a child running through the halls, doing mischievous little tricks, with the two parents who taught them. It is a perfect picture in his mind. Loki couldn't wait to teach his child the magic tricks his mother showed him when he was younger. 

Loki thoughts were cut off when his body immediately responded to you straddling his waist, a soft moan escaped him as you kissed him hard. He could feel himself getting aroused and he pulled you deeper into the kiss, placing his hands gently on your thighs. 

y/n could feel herself get wet as loki placed his hands on her thighs, trying to not break the deep kiss she guided his hand to her , y/n deepened the kiss by pushing her tongue in Loki's mouth and shared each other's saliva, she moaned when loki broke our kiss and ravished her neck and inserted a finger into her heated entrance. 

Loki could tell that you were getting aroused at the touch of his hands, and he couldn’t fight the growing desire in his stomach anymore. He let out a deep groan as you forced his fingers to touch you. He broke the kiss, only so he can leave a trail of open-mouthed kisses on your neck and shoulder, gently sucking and biting as he went down. He couldn’t help but push a finger in, feeling just how wet and aroused you were already. 

y/n whimpered between the crook of his neck as he fingered her slowly, she gently peppered his neck with soft kisses as he devoured her neck in rough needy kisses ‘loki.. I-I  need you inside me.. Please.” y/n beg softly, loki growled deeply against her neck and he pulled his finger out of her, she gasped in the sudden emptiness he left. 

He could barely hold himself back from taking you right there, your sweet moans, the way you begged for him and the way you left kisses on his neck pushed him over the edge. He picked you up, as he positioned himself to enter you “God my darling, you’ve got such a power over me.” loki whispered in y/n ear in desire and lust, y/n looked down at loki, her body shaking from arousal, as she feel loki’s tip at her entrance he stopped there and didn't enter yet, and y/n pleaded "loki please.. I need you.” she begged “I need to take me how you desire, I need you too fuck me hard and good like a good little princess, please.. my king" y/n said in agony, that it's like something snapped in loki as she said 'my king'." 

The moment the words left your mouth and loki heard you call him ‘my king’. Every single cell in his body began to buzz with excitement and a feeling of control, you were his and he was yours. Loki looked up at you with an animalistic look, his eyes dilated as he slammed himself into you, not holding back anymore “Good girl… begging for her king. You’re mine, don’t ever forget that princess” as Loki growled against your neck, lifting you up and down on his cock going faster and faster, with the water from the bath spilling everywhere on the bathroom floor.  y/n moaned loudly as his thick member pumped into her tight pussy harder, " oh my gods... my king.. Im Yours, all yours, no one else's.. "your moans became louder as loki began to bounce you up and down on his member slower but deeper, you were feeling a knot beginning to swell as she was coming to a close pleasurable end, as you were bouncing on Loki's massive cock, you could tell he was coming close too as his rhythm was becoming sloppy and uneven, “come for me my king” you whispered to loki.  

Just the way you were speaking was driving him crazy, claiming that you were his, and only his. The way you said ‘my king’ made his mind swim with thoughts of having complete control over you, and you willingly giving yourself, As you come undone and loki chasing his orgasm after you, y/n slumped onto loki out of exhaustion. Loki pulled himself out of y/n and  gasped softly making loki chuckle". “I still need to give you your present.. but I don't think I can walk” y/n I giggled into loki’s chest and looked up, seeing loki’s messy hair and sweaty forehead from their past activities". 

Loki couldn’t help but chuckle along with you as you spoke, a smirk creeping onto his face when you told him you had a present for him but could not move. His hair, messier, and his forehead covered in a thin layer of sweat, the exhaustion of what you both just did still lingering in his muscles “And how exactly do you suppose you’ll give me this present if you can’t walk darling?”

y/n giggled and look at loki with big puppy dog eyes "you could maybe carry me over to our bed" y/n giggled even more seeing Loki's face at the offer she gave him.. Loki gave you a mock look of annoyance as you told him to carry you to the bed, though he knew he could never say no to that face. He rolled his eyes at you

“You’re insufferable sometimes, you know that?”

He said, letting out a sigh of fake annoyance, though he didn’t protest when he picked you up in his arms and slowly made his way to your bed. 

y/n hung on loki tightly peppering his face in kisses, as he made our way to the foot of the bed loki gave me a mischievous grin, I looked at him confused, and then he suddenly threw me onto the bed without warning making me yelp out loud.He chuckled at your surprised yell as he suddenly tossed you onto the bed, his heart filling with joy, as y/n hit the bed she had a fit of laughter and so did loki, the sound of pure happiness was music to his ears." do you want your present or what?!” y/n said jokingly, loki and I were still laughing but quieting down, I turned around and crawled up the bed to the bedside table and brought out a box, I patted the spot next to me signalling for loki to sit down next to me. he took your invitation and sat down next to you, his curiosity piqued as you grabbed a small box from the bedside table and sat down next to him “Alright darling, what’s in the box?”

y/n gave loki the box and gestured him to open it, when he did his eyebrows raised when he pulled out two green and gold colour daggers, with snake like handles and their first initials on the bottom handle. y/n look at him awaiting a response worried if he liked them or not. Loki was speechless as he got a good look at the two daggers in front of him, the green and gold colours immediately caught his eye and he carefully picked them up, gently tracing the snake handles with his fingers and feeling the initials etched into the bottom, “Darling… these are beautiful.” He said, his gaze moving from the daggers to look up at you, a soft smile on his face. “I made them from scratch, so when you go into battle you can always have a part of me when we aren't near." 

loki was genuinely shocked and touched at your gift, the thought you must have put into it, and the pure craftsmanship of the both of them. He couldn’t help but turn his head and capture your lips in a deep kiss, his arm wrapping around your waist and pulling you closer to him. Pulling away from the kiss, his forehead gently resting against yours

“They’re perfect, love. I’ll never go anywhere without them”

“I'm glad you like them, Loki.” I smile, then I yawn, sleep slowly taking over my body.  I think it's time for us to go to bed love, you got a busy day tomorrow my king.” smile weakly at Loki, as y/n pulled Loki into the covers with her. He felt your hand gently grip his own and place it over your stomach, his heart fluttering at the thought of your growing child within you. He pulled you closer, positioning himself comfortably on his back, gently pressing a kiss to your temple, “Goodnight, my darling. Sleep well.”

[yannights]

Hi, I love your Wriothesley work!I was wondering what would happen if reader tried to hurt Wriothesley during an outburst? Would he be mad or brush it of?

Thank you for the request!!! I love it so much that I think a serves as a great prequel for my "Depth " series, so I wrote a little story around it, and I hope it answers your question

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Wriothesley is not a brute, he is not completely delusional either. He is fully aware of how his actions affect you and he knows that you hate him for it. So he allows you keep the dignity you desire, he lets you sleep on the floor, he leaves you to bath alone. However nothing stops him from loving you. Your presence is all he needs from you. He is what can be can considered as a 'chill dude' if you get mad at him, he will mostly like try to brush it off if notihing is at stake. For instance if you demand to go out, he will most likely refuse since he doesn't trust the other inmate's around to not pull a stunt with you.

The more time passes, the more he craves more from you. Your approval, your love. Everything he wants is within your grasp, so he will indulge it from time to time. He will demand hugs, or a kiss, and despite your rejection, he enjoys and cherishes these moments. So, as the days pass, the tantrums will start to get irritating, despite his composure, he will start to feel angry at you for not advancing your relationship as he pleases, and if things escalate to a braking point, he will take action.

------

As Wriothesley sat at his desk, the weight of his responsibilities pressed down upon him, each signature on the papers before him a reminder of the endless demands of his position as the duke. Despite the tranquility of the day, the constant stream of complaints and regulations left him feeling drained and weary.

You, on the other hand, sat on the couch nearby, a comforting presence amidst the chaos of his duties. With a cup of vanilla tea in hand, which Wriothesley had prepared it especially for you, a small gesture of 'kindness' amidst the hustle and bustle of the day. As you sipped the fragrant tea, its soothing warmth washed over you, providing a momentary respite from the stresses of your position. As you took another sip of the vanilla tea, a sudden vision flashed before your eyes. You found yourself sitting in a café, savoring the same tea as the sun set in the distance. The memory of that simpler time lingered, a bittersweet reminder of the life you once knew before returning to Wriothesley's office.

This reality boiled you with pure rage, you aggressively put the cup down onto the table. As Wriothesley observed your sudden outburst, a faint smirk played across his lips, though he made no overt comment. The silence only fueled the fire of your rage, simmering beneath the surface as you struggled to contain it. Wriothesley on the other hand wanted to see how far your limits would go, so he decided he would partake in a little game.

"Well, well," he began, his voice dripping with mock concern, "it seems our little tea break has taken a rather dramatic turn, hasn't it?" His taunting tone only served to stoke the flames of your anger, the heat of it pulsating through every fiber of your being.

Without a word, you snatched another cup from the tray and hurled it in his direction with all the force you could muster. But Wriothesley was quick to react, dodging the projectile by leaning to his left. A visible unpleased looked appeared on his face. Exhausted and annoyed by your actions, Wriothesley slowly stood up from his desk, and looked down at you with a stone cold expression, intensifying his icy gaze from his frozen coloured eyes. With furrowed eyebrows, Wriothesley could no longer hide the pain arising from your attitude, and had finally decided he would have proper discussion about your childish behaviour.

"My, my," he chuckled though the anger in his eyes unmistakable, "someone's feeling rather spirited today, aren't they? "

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Author:

So yeah, for me, he would probably try and talk to you first. Unlike a lot of fanfics, I don't think he resort to violence with darling, maybe intimidation. Like I said he's a chill guy, he would either brush it off or just results to a non-lethal way of showing that what you are doing isn't good. But everyone has a limit, right. So if you do manage to make him angry which is rare he would probably try and talk it out and then find another solution if it's not working.

Hope you enjoyed~~~~

[foryoufics]

A Shore Thing

Author's Note: I have the time and motivation to write and no coherent ideas so I'm going with a tried and true tested classic overused ass cliche mermaid trope, we all love them there is no point lyin' and denying. This should be done in chapters but I always abandon those so it will be a one shot.

Summary: Jungkook has come to a bridge he never wanted to have to cross, explaining to your daughter why she's never known you and why she can't go on a trip with her boyfriend; in her case, he could literally lose his babygirl if she goes

Characters: Y/N, Jungkook, Y/N and Jungkook's daughter Alara, mention of her bf but he's irrelevant to the plot honestly lol

Warnings: tbh idk if this one will have any, some fluff, some angst, a teenager being well a teenager, corny jokes on Jungkook's part, some physical grabbing and momentary choking in a non-sexual way/almost abusive way, mermaid suicide?

"I hate you!! I hate you so much-ugh- you don't even understand dad! You have no idea! I'm probably never going to forgive you for this!!" Alara, better known as Ally, shouts to Jungkook as she's storms ahead of him back to the car.

"ALARA, Don't walk ahead of me....please," Jungkook pleads. He wanted to shout back at her for the disrespect but he was hurting too much at her words and in this moment, he was telling himself this was not the moment to let her see him cry, and willing himself not to was taking all of his willpower. He wanted nothing more than to turn off his hearing aid

"WHY? Why shouldn't I? This is what you did to mom!! Remember that!? Huh!? Did you forget!? Well, I didn't!!! It must've been about the same time too-," she looked to the darkness of the night sky, then checked the time on her phone, "yeah...exactly, 9:30-just because you can't be happy, I can't be!! It's not fair!!" Her anger boils over and she shoves his chest.

He grips her arm, "Get in, Alara," he says, all sorts of emotions boiling inside of him as he eyes her neck. He wipes his mouth, "please....please," his hand forms a fist and the one gripping her arm tightens, "tell me that isn't what I fucking think it is," he swallows a lump in his throat. "Well, yeah, you kinda interrupted something. You're hurting me, let go...," she mumbles. "I showed up just in time, get in the truck." He opens the door and lets her arm go when she's sitting in the passenger seat, to her angry screaming, he had no choice but to turn his aid down and pound on and close her window, lock it as well. He shouts for her to 'Stop yelling', more pleads as he grips her boyfriends ears and cradles his head when he sees him doubling over behind them, gripping his bleeding ears. She watches the scene and reads Jungkook's lips and stops shouting at the sight; watching her dad check on her boyfriend and then come back to the truck and slam the door and readjust the volume settings on his hearing device. "W-What happened?" She stutters crying, "what happened just now!? Was that because of me? Damn it, I want answers!!" She once again stops shouting when she sees Jungkook painfully try to shield his ears, the way his face grimaced

"Are you done?" Jungkook asks her, his voice as if he had swallowed gravel and she nods. For a moment, he only starts driving, saying nothing

"What the fuck were you thinking?" He asks calmly, staring dead ahead at the road, he couldn't bear to look at her skin marked with those damn hickeys until he asked, reaching over to gently rub the back of his finger over them

"I was thinking I am almost a grown woman and it felt good, I trust him and I like him and I thought you did too..."

"Almost....I do...I'm not mad at you, I am not mad at either of you, have to admit what you said back there did tick me off a smidge.....it's time we had a conversation I was hoping we would never have to have, admittedly it was silly of me to think that-"

"Dad, I don't need that talk, I know everything I need to know and then some-"

"God, Ew, no, no, please no, just shush stop. I clearly can see you know--you left with a bag packed, I told you can't go on that beach trip"

"Yeah, I know, which is really stupid, and what you didn't tell me was why," she crosses her arms in a pout

"Alright, little miss almost grown ass woman, I'll give you the answers. You can't go on that trip because I don't want to lose you....same reason we never went to the ocean when you were growing up"

"Yeah, I've always wanted to see the ocean-and what do you mean you'd lose me? I can swim and I wouldn't be alone, I'd be with someone we both trust and what the hell happened back there? I was hurting you both-his ears were bleeding dad! You were both in pain! I need more than that!"

"I'm getting there baby," Jungkook takes a deep breath, "I'm going to need you to listen....please"

She nods, hearing the seriousness in his tone, "okay"

"It is a long story, I should start with, that woman that left, storming off, at 9:30 that night all those years ago, as you so very vividly remember and didn't fail to mention earlier-," she opens her mouth to speak and he cuts her off with a hand in her face, "listening." "That woman wasn't your mother, you never referred to her as such when she was in our lives and I will not allow you to start now; she was my ex wife and that's it....and yes, his ears were bleeding, he might have some damage done but he will be okay, and yes, it was because of you....you have to be careful....now, I have to tell you about your mother to answer all of these questions and to explain-"

"Just a ex wife," she scoffs, "hmph, is that all my mom was?"

"No, your mom and I were never married. Never even together romantically or otherwise"

"Dad, we just established I know better than that, so what she wasn't even worthy of being with you huh? So what? A one night stand? Fuck buddy?"

"SHUT UP! SHUT UP!!" Before he could stop himself to think he was reacting, slamming on the breaks and reaching over to grab her throat, "DON'T YOU EVER DISRESPECT MY BEST FRIEND LIKE THAT! YOU HEAR ME!?!" He had completely blacked out, he very quickly comes back to when he feels his baby girl's hand tapping his arm and her gasping. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry baby. I'm so sorry.....please, just don't talk about your mother like that, and please listen...," she was scared, he had never reacted this way to anything. She nods and accepts the water bottle he was offering her from the cooler in the back, drinking some as he stroked her hair and finally was bursting into tears and stroking her hair, apologizing through his sobs. After taking the time to calm him down and leaning over to let him hold her for a bit he was able to start driving again and telling her the story. "I'm sorry, I will never do that again I swear; and I won't tell you that you can't go on that trip, I'll let you make that decision....but if you go, he and I both lose you....and I want you to be able to experience life and love and....what I interrupted," he shivers at the thought

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

"Gguk!! It's so good to have you out man!!" Namjoon says as he and all of Jungkook's brothers ran to meet him at the gates and bombard him with welcomed hugs.

"Hi guys, hey, I-I met someone"

"Look at you smiling!" Yoongi laughs and pats his shoulder. "Yeah, she must be great!" Hope adds laughing and they all start asking questions.

"Guys," Jungkook laughs, "I met her....at the beach...in the water....this is going to sound crazy but...she's a mermaid," there is a long pause before the guys burst into laughing. "Man, the military really broke you huh?" Taeyhung messes his hair. "No, no really, I'm serious....guys, I'm serious"

Namjoon gestures for the guys to stop, "Jungkook....," he says, his voices lace with worry

"I'm serious. I have proof," Jungkook reaches behind him into his bag for something and shows them two glass potion jars, the kind you could buy at a craft store, one containing water that was white and glowed like the sun, the other was water with what looked like a pearl and what appeared to be glass beads; they weren't sure. "This is water, it's from her hair, she dripped into here," he says about the smaller jar, "and....this one is...I'm not sure....after she gave me the other one she climbed onto a rock, she said that she wanted me to have what was going to be there and if I ever missed her to add a piece of myself and to never let it go to the ocean or I would lose it forever, so, she...she climbed out and asked to hold my hand and she became a few scales and this pearl thing.....and she held my hand, she was in so much pain, the sun, outside of the water, her human flesh seemed to...to...melt into a pile of boiling blood a wave crashed onto and immediately washed a away....I was left in shock, she wasn't holding my hand anymore.....but she didn't even scream or anything as it happened.....she just looked at me and I looked at her, and it was quiet....then as the wave came, I quickly grabbed the pearl and the scales like she said and I put them in here with some water; I couldn't leave it bloody....it's been a few days and I have missed her but I haven't done anything"

The silence went on for a very long moment as all of the guys stared at the bottles and their contents, Jungkook's eyes were locked on them but the guys glanced between each other.

"C-Comeon, let's get you out of the heat," Namjoon says as if he's speaking to a fragile child, wrapping a arm around Jungkook as they walk him to the van to leave the base. "You believe me right guys?" He looks at all of them and they all nod and give a "yeah, sure~" "totally~" in that same condescending voice as Namjoon had, "Listen we are going to be here for you buddy, you should stay with Tae and I for a while," Namjoon added. Yet Jungkook didn't relent on his stories, he went on for months after that, they didn't relent on treating him as if he had lost his mind either; they played along thinking he was in a fragile mental state, asked him questions and listened to what he would say.

'Hey, Gguk, how did you meet your fish girlfriend? You were sweating in your sleep last night, twitching....want to talk about that? Was it what happened-what you said when you were leaving the service?'

Jungkook nods to the part of the question addressing what specifically caused him to do that in his sleep, and shakes his head, "no, I don't want to talk about that," he picks at his cuticles and looks down at them then looks up and smiles, "but I do want to talk about her. She was just my friend, I met her during a break, I took a trip to a private beach and she was in the water. Obviously I swam to her, I said hi," he shrugs

"You saw a mermaid," Namjoon cleared his throat, to try and not give away his true thoughts, "and you just...swam up and said hi?" He asked

"What? So you are a therapist now and think I'm crazy?" Jungkook asks defensively. Namjoon had become a therapist but also was being a complete ass

"I...I just want to hear the story, may I hear the story please?"

"Okay....," Jungkook comes around and sits, "I swam to her, her back was turned so I scared her," he giggles, "she jumped back and she looked shocked, so I apologized...," he smiles as he drifts into the story

~~~~~~~

"Hi," you jumped, feeling a finger tap the back of your shoulder as you turned to see another merperson. You had never witnessed a human nor merperson before, only known stories you would hear through the water of both. This one, was breathtaking, whichever it was. "Hi, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you....you uh, you have a tail"

You nod. "May want to keep that hidden," he whispers and smiles to you.

"D-Do you have a tail?" You had no idea how you were able to communicate with him. "No, I'm human. I don't have a tail, I have legs, see?" He flipped to be as if he were standing on his head in the water, his legs sticking out of the top

"So....what brings you out here?" He asks laughing

"I.....was.....," you look around, "I was....alone"

"Because it's a private beach? You aren't alone, don't want anything happening to you, so...I'm Jungguk, what's your name?"

"Name?"

"Yeah, what do your kind call you? By the way did you sing to lure me here?" He replies, laughing at your very confused expression, "I didn't hear any"

"I didn't ...sing.....I don't have a kind?"

"oh......so you really meant.....you're all by yourself?" You nod to his question, "Only me, this kind"

"oh.....well the ocean is a big place, that has to be lonely....I've been missing my brothers too and lonely myself....how about let's be friends, yeah? And you need a name, how's......Y/N?"

"Yes," you agree, smiling and nodding. He was at least someone something like you

"So....I'm guessing you're not like the TV mermaids that can switch back and forth?"

"No," you shake your head and he laughs

"I see, well, I spend most of my time on land but I'm a really good swimmer so I'll came and see you here on my breaks, okay?" You nod, all you understand is that he will see you and it will be here

And Jungkook did, for many months he came to see you there often, he showed you all sorts of human things. When he came at night, the thing he called the sky was dark and it had these things he called stars; that was a third world neither of you could touch. He showed you things of the human world, and told you about life there, and these things called dad jokes that he got from his big brother Seokjin. He always spoke of his big brothers and he had many of them, Seokjin seemed to be his favorite. You found yourself wanting to meet them all, you actually thought someday you might meet Seokjin, he was a fisherman, but Jungkook assured you you had no reason to be afraid of him. He said that Seokjin cooked the fish really well too, he said he cooked everything well, and you could imagine tasting and enjoying a happy meal with his family. You admired how he said Seokjin had learned to cook because their brother Jimin wasn't eating. In his stories, they were never alone, you much preferred this feeling you got listening to Jungkook and being with him than your time before you knew him. You trusted him and you felt like part of his family, you could sense how he felt much like you did then not being with them and you very much hated that.

"Jungkook, I found this on a ship wreck, what is it?" You ask him one day

"oh, that, that's a very damaged book cover"

"What is a book?"

"A book is something that humans use to share knowledge and stories for entertainment. My brother's really like the Harry Potter ones"

"Can you tell me about it?" You listened as the sun set and he told you these stories of Harry Potter that his brothers liked

Many of his visits went this way, talking for hours and hours, until one day, he came and he didn't seem to want to speak much at all

He sat by a rock and leaned on it appearing defeated, he didn't even get in the water with you to swim. He looked only at his hands, "Y/N.....I came to say, this is my last visit....my military service is going to end really soon...and I'm going home, I wanted to say goodbye because you have been such a great friend to me the past few years"

"I will miss you very much, I don't want to be alone again....when does your service end?"

"Two weeks..."

"May I see you one more time? Please?"

"Yeah, I can come one more time..... tomorrow?"

"Yes, and could you please bring me some of those.....Harry Potter potion bottles?"

He chuckles, "Yeah, I can do that," and the next day he came then as he promised

"The small one please?" He hands it to you and you ring your hair into it before passing it back, "don't drink it, it's just to not forget me," you laugh and he smiles then you take the other bottle, "I am going to come out to that rock, can you hold my hand and maybe you can tell your family stories about me? I want you to take what's left there in this and if you miss me you can just add a little bit of yourself, just don't let it go to the water or you will lose it forever...."

"Yeah....a shore thing...," he jokes and you alright and take his hand, using your upper body strength to lift yourself up onto the rock. It happens immediately, the sun burning your human flesh and boiling you but you just focus on Jungkook holding your hand

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

"Jungkook, hey!!!" Jungkook comes to his senses and sees Namjoon tapping his face and wiping it on his sweater sleeve, "what?" He asks as he's pulled into the larger man's shoulder, "I've got you, I've got you, it's okay....it's over....."

Namjoon narrowed this whole mermaid thing down to traumatic experience Jungkook must've seen on the field and was using it to cope with the PTSD. Nothing seems to change after that and one day he comes home to Jungkook, holding a sleeping baby in his arms while he was on the floor, on his knees, blood pouring from his ears.

"JUNGKOOK!" He rushes over when his friend didn't respond to him screaming, he tries to take the child but Jungkook's grip was like a boa constrictor around it's prey but he was protecting the child like a mother lioness. Namjoon tries to explain to Jungkook that he was trying to help, they needed to clean the little one and get them both to the hospital. He manages to call Seokjin over to help and together they get them both to the hospital. The child appeared to be a perfectly normal and healthy little girl, two legs, two feet, ten toes. They did lab work and learned she was Jungkook's but didn't understand how when they had been keeping close watch on him because of his mental state and he hadn't been with anyone; either Namjoon, Seokjin, or Taeyhung would have known. That was also the night Jungkook had lost his hearing and was almost completely and entirely deaf. The next week's they spent adjusting to Jungkook now being hearing impaired and all pitched in to help him with the baby, no one asked for a while how the hell she came to be until eventually they did. One night when she was a few weeks old and they could no longer stand it they brought it up.

Jungkook tells them the truth, the night that Alara was born, the night he never wanted to relive ever, he had been missing you intensely and just wanted to talk to you when he was finally alone. So he plucked a strand of his hair and placed it into the jar, thinking nothing would happen he gave it a shake and stared at it but something did happen. He heard you screaming, he heard what he should have heard the last time he saw you and the jar shattered leaving Ally there where it was, screaming just as intensely, he was telling you that you were going to be okay for what felt like eternity while the glass shattered which didn't happen quickly. When you finally stopped screaming the baby was crying and he felt the pain but didn't care, he was cooing and trying to get her to feel safe. Eventually Namjoon came home

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

"So......if I go on this trip.....what did she mean you will lose me forever?"

"I don't know.....," he answers honestly

"Daddy, I'm scared....," she was crying now, quietly

He was pulling in the drive at this point and parking, he comes around and when she gets out and hugs his neck, he lifts her up like she's a baby again and carries her up to tuck her in, "me too.....just.....think about it before you do it.....please"

"shore thing.....," and he wipes her tears with his thumb and kisses her forehead

[tanjamikaelson]

BEST FRIEND'S BROTHER - CHAPTER 14

MASTERLIST

CHAPTER 14: | LET HIM GO |

RAFE’S POV:

Rafe spent the entire night tossing and turning, his mind unable to escape the weight of everything he’d done. The comfort of your body next to his, the warmth of your presence, was only a brief balm for the storm raging inside him. He thought being with you would quiet the madness, but now, in the stillness of the night, the guilt and fear clawed at him. His skin was slick with sweat, every breath coming harder as his thoughts spiraled deeper into the darkness. The events of the last few days replayed in his mind like a broken record—over and over again, suffocating him.

By morning, the need to escape became too much. He slipped out of bed, careful not to wake you. You were the only good thing left in his life, and he couldn’t bear for you to see him like this, to see the wreck he’d become. He rummaged through his drawers, searching for the cocaine he knew would take the edge off, and give him some momentary peace, but his hands came up empty. Nothing. His heart pounded harder. The room felt like it was closing in on him, too small, too confining.

Rafe pulled on his shorts and a t-shirt, the fabric clinging to his sweat-drenched skin. His mind was racing, his nerves frayed. He needed more than the rush of a line—he needed to forget. Without a second thought, he grabbed his helmet and left the house, each step feeling heavier with the weight of his choices. As he stepped outside, the frustration boiled over. Muttering to himself, Rafe slapped his face lightly, trying to shock himself into some sense of reality, but it wasn’t enough. In a fit of rage, he threw his helmet to the ground, watching it roll away before he picked it up with trembling hands.

Once on his dirt bike, Rafe let the engine roar, tearing down the road in search of one thing—an escape. The wind whipped around him, but it didn’t drown out the chaos in his head.

“Barry!” Rafe burst into the familiar dingy space where Barry lived, his voice loud and desperate, cutting through the stillness. Barry was mid-line, his head jerking up at the sound of Rafe’s entrance.

“I need cocaine,” Rafe demanded, his voice ragged.

Barry blinked, startled and then annoyed at the intrusion. “I’m all out, man. That was my last line right there. Everybody done came and did a run on me. People are stocking up for this storm,” Barry explained, his irritation clear.

Rafe didn’t believe him. He couldn’t believe him. He needed the high to drown out the panic creeping in, to still the shaking of his hands. Without waiting for an invitation, Rafe started searching through Barry's cabinets, his movements erratic, his desperation growing with every second. “Oh, I know you got it in here, bro,” he muttered, his voice shaking.

Barry’s patience snapped. “No, I don’t got anything in here! I’m all out, man!” Barry’s voice rose, frustration clear as he followed Rafe around the room.

“Bullshit, man! You’re full of shit,” Rafe spat, storming into Barry’s room like a man possessed.

Barry was on his heels, his anger barely restrained. “What did I say, bitch? I’m out! I’m out, bitch! Get out of my room!” He shoved Rafe out, but the desperation in Rafe’s eyes was hard to ignore.

Rafe’s breathing grew erratic, hyperventilating as his hands trembled uncontrollably. "Where is it?" he gasped, his eyes wide and frantic. "I know you got some."

Barry stepped back, confused by the intensity radiating from Rafe. “What the hell done got into you?” His voice softened, a hint of concern slipping through the annoyance.

Rafe’s chest heaved, and the dam finally broke. He sank to the floor, his legs giving out beneath him as sobs wracked his body. Tears flowed freely down his cheeks, each one carrying the weight of his guilt, fear, and helplessness. “Because I… I—” His voice cracked, the words choking in his throat.

Barry’s eyes widened, the reality of Rafe’s breakdown settling in. "Oh, shit, man. Hey. Hey, look, dog," Barry said, his voice softer now, moving closer. "Hey, Rafe? You’re good. You’re good. Breathe, man. Just breathe."

Rafe tried, but every breath felt like a battle. "Have you ever, uh… have you ever done something you never thought you would? Like, something… something bad?” Rafe’s voice wavered, his vulnerability raw and exposed. His teary eyes locked onto Barry’s, silently pleading for some kind of understanding.

Barry tried to lighten the moment, but his attempt felt hollow. "Uh, what you done, Country Club? Was you late to a tee time? Huh?” Barry chuckled weakly before sighing, realizing this was serious. "You can talk to me, man. Just… just tell me whatever the hell you done, 'cause I can promise you, whatever it was, I done worse, bro. I was in the army.”

But Rafe wasn’t laughing. He couldn’t. His entire world was unraveling. "I did, uh… something,” he whispered, barely able to say the words. “And now I’m… I’m fucked, man, like, totally. Like, a hundred percent, I’m fucked.” His voice broke, the sobs returning as tears streamed down his face. “Like, for life, man. There’s… There’s no way out of this, bro."

Barry stood there, at a loss for what to say. The carefree, cocky Rafe he was used to was gone, replaced by someone broken, someone teetering on the edge.

•°•°•°•°•°•

When you woke up in the morning, the bed beside you was empty. Rafe wasn’t there. You hadn’t even felt him slip out, and as you lay there, staring at the empty space next to you, a sinking feeling settled in your stomach. He must have gone back to searching for John B, and it made you feel like last night had been for nothing—like all the effort to calm him, to get him to stop, hadn’t changed a thing.

You quickly dressed, pulling on your clothes with an urgency, as if you could somehow catch up to him and stop whatever he was planning. As you made your way downstairs, hoping to leave unnoticed, Rose spotted you, her sharp voice stopping you in your tracks.

“I didn’t know you were here,” she said, her tone surprised as she eyed you closely. She added, almost to herself, “And Sarah’s not here?”

“Uh, yeah,” you stammered, trying to think of an excuse but fumbling over your words. “I was with Rafe.”

The confusion on her face deepened. “With Rafe?”

You nodded, feeling a bit awkward under her gaze. “Yeah... maybe I shouldn’t be the one to say this, but we’re together.”

“Together, like dating?” Rose asked, her voice edged with surprise. You nodded in response. “Since when?” she pressed, still taken aback.

“It’s been about a week, so... it’s still fresh,” you explained, trying to gauge her reaction.

Rose raised her brows, but her expression remained composed. “And I guess you know what he did?” she asked, her voice softening as she leaned in slightly. “Ward told me you were there.”

You swallowed hard, feeling the weight of that memory settle heavily on your chest. You didn’t want to think about it, didn’t want to relive the horror of that night. “I know,” you admitted quietly. “But I won’t say anything. I don’t want him to end up in jail.”

“I understand,” Rose replied, her voice steady. She didn’t flinch at the mention of what Rafe had done. She knew all too well the lengths the Cameron family went to protect their own. Rafe had killed one person, but Ward... Ward had blood on his hands too, far more than anyone outside their circle knew.

“Please don’t say anything to my mom,” you added quickly, realizing the conversation was slipping into dangerous territory. “I haven’t told her about Rafe and me yet.”

Rose’s expression softened, and she nodded. “I won’t say anything,” she assured you. “But maybe I could invite your family over for dinner. The two of you could tell them then.”

You smiled, relieved. “That would be nice.”

With that, you hurried out of Tannyhill, your mind still racing. You didn’t know whether to go look for Rafe or check on Sarah to make sure she was okay. But first, you needed to go home—eat something, change your clothes, and take a moment to think.

On your way back, you stopped a few people, asking if they’d caught John B yet. Each answer was the same—they hadn’t. Which meant Rafe was still out there, hunting for him. And you weren’t sure how to stop him.

•°•°•°•°•°•

You were driving your bike through Figure 8, your heart racing with the tension that hung in the air. You spotted a familiar car. It was Kie, and you could see JJ in the passenger seat. They were heading toward the Cut, and something deep inside you told you they knew where John B and Sarah were. Without hesitating, you followed them, keeping a safe distance.

The car eventually stopped at a small, rundown house, and you watched as JJ hopped out and disappeared inside. Now was your chance. You parked your bike on the side of the road, letting it fall to the ground, and approached Kie, who was still sitting in the driver’s seat.

“Hey, Kie,” you called out, your voice catching her off guard.

Kie’s eyes widened in surprise. “Y/N, what are you doing here?” She hadn’t expected to see you, especially not after everything that had gone down between Sarah and the pogues.

“I followed you,” you admitted, standing awkwardly by the car door. “I wanted to know if you know where Sarah and John B are.”

Kie was silent for a moment, clearly contemplating what to say. Finally, she sighed. “We’re supposed to meet them at the dump.”

“Can I come with you?” you asked quickly, your voice softer. “I know I stopped talking to you when Sarah did, and I’m sorry, but if you and Sarah worked things out, maybe we could as well...”

Kie hesitated, studying your face for a moment, trying to read your intentions. After a beat, she nodded. “Uh, okay, get in.”

Relief washed over you as you quickly opened the back door and slid into the seat. “Thank you,” you murmured. Moments later, JJ returned, sliding into the passenger seat without noticing you at first. Kie started the engine, and the three of you drove off towards the docks in silence.

The boat dock was eerily quiet as you hopped out of the car with Kie and JJ. The air was thick with tension, and every sound seemed amplified in the stillness. JJ moved with purpose, unlocking a padlock to reveal an old racing boat hidden beneath a tattered sheet.

“There she be,” JJ declared proudly, pulling the sheet away to reveal the worn boat beneath. “Hey, girl. A 1983 Formula 402 SR1.” His voice brimmed with excitement as he ran a hand over the boat’s surface. “The Phantom.”

Kie hummed noncommittally, sharing a glance with you as you both nodded politely.

“The first boat to make the run to Bermuda in under 16 hours, Kie. Forty years old! Forty. And still the fastest thing that Kildare’s ever seen.” JJ’s passion for the boat was palpable, his enthusiasm bouncing in the air.

Kie raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. “It’s kind of a junker.”

JJ scoffed, his eyes wide in disbelief. “Really? She’s right there, Kie. She can hear you.” He pointed dramatically at the boat, muttering under his breath. “Let’s just put it this way. You would not be smokin’ weed right now if she never existed, okay?”

“I just hope it runs,” Kie said, crossing her arms as she assessed the boat with a critical eye.

JJ shot her a confident grin. “Oh, no, she’ll run all right. She’s faster than any cutters the boys in blue got.”

Before the conversation could go any further, the sound of a motorcycle approaching made the three of you turn. Kie and JJ expected to see Pope pulling up, but instead, your stomach dropped when you saw who it was. Rafe.

“Hey there,” Rafe smirked as he walked over, his eyes gleaming with something dark as they landed on Kie. But when his gaze shifted to you, the smirk faded, and his face hardened.

“Rafe—” you breathed out, unsure of what to say. His jaw clenched, silently reprimanding you for being here with the pogues.

Before you could explain yourself, a chilling laugh rang out. Barry.

“Well, well…” Barry drawled, his voice slow and venomous as he raised a gun, pointing it directly at JJ. “Don’t think I forgot about me and you on the side of the road. I’m here because I want my motherfuckin’ money.” He punctuated his words with a sharp hit to JJ, sending him stumbling.

“JJ! JJ!” Kie gasped, panic flooding her voice. Before she could react, Rafe grabbed her around the waist, lifting her off the ground effortlessly. His grip was firm, and you could see the fear flash in her eyes as he dragged her away from the boat.

“It’s not you we want, Kie,” Rafe said, his voice low and menacing as he backed her against a stack of shelves. “Where’s John B?”

Kie didn’t hesitate. She slapped him hard across the face, the sound echoing in the small space. “I don’t know!” she screamed, her voice trembling with fear and defiance.

Rafe’s head snapped to the side from the force of the slap, and he paused for a moment before slowly turning back to face her. His eyes burned with rage. “I really wish you didn’t do that,” he sneered, his tone dangerous.

Kie’s voice wavered as she shot back, “I know what you did.”

Rafe’s eyes narrowed, his patience wearing thin. “What? What did I do?” His voice was icy, daring her to say it.

“You murdered Peterkin,” Kie spat, her voice louder now.

For a moment, Rafe froze, his gaze darkening as his jaw clenched. Then, in a swift motion, he grabbed her by the neck, his fingers digging into her skin. “Don’t you ever say those fucking words again. Understand? Do you understand?”

“Rafe! Let go of her!” you shouted, rushing forward and trying to push him off, your hands shaking with fear. But he didn’t budge, his grip tightening as he glared at Kie.

“Where’s John B? Huh?” Rafe shouted again, his face contorted with anger.

Kie choked, shaking her head frantically. “I don’t know! I don’t know!”

“Please, Rafe...” you pleaded, grabbing his arm, and trying to drag him away. He was hurting her, and your heart raced with fear.

Out of nowhere, Pope barged in, swinging a metal pole and hitting Rafe hard, knocking him off balance. “Don’t touch her!” Pope shouted, his voice filled with fury as he struck Rafe again.

Rafe quickly regained his footing and retaliated, punching Pope square in the face, and sending him stumbling. The two of them exchanged blows, their fists flying with an intensity that left you frozen in fear.

“Rafe!” Barry shouted, pulling out his gun. But before he could aim, JJ lunged forward, grabbing Barry’s ankle and tripping him over. The gun flew out of Barry’s hand, sliding across the floor.

“Kick it!” JJ yelled at you, his eyes wide with urgency. You looked down at the gun, your heart pounding in your chest, and without hesitation, you kicked it under the boat, out of reach.

You dropped to your knees beside Kie, who was gasping for breath, her hands clutching her throat. “Pope!” Kie croaked, her voice strained.

You turned just in time to see Pope still beating Rafe, his fists relentless as they slammed into Rafe’s face.

“Pope, that’s good! Stop!” Kie called out, struggling to get the words out.

“He’s had enough, dude!” JJ hollered from the other side of the room, tossing a battered Barry to the ground.

“No. Let him go,” you screamed, your voice shaking as you watched in horror while Pope strangled Rafe with a tube, his eyes wild with rage.

“Snap out of it, dude!” JJ barked, his voice frantic.

“You’re killing him, he can’t breathe,” you warned, your eyes wide with fear, watching him struggle for air.

“Pope! Get off!” Kie shouted, her voice more desperate now.

JJ rushed forward, grabbing Pope from behind and yanking him off Rafe. “Dude, come on, stop!”

Finally, Pope let go, dropping the tube and stepping back, his chest heaving with anger. Rafe lay on the ground, blood trickling from his mouth as he gasped for air.

“Shit. Oh, shit,” JJ muttered, his eyes wide as he took in the sight of Rafe, blood splattered across his face.

You knelt down next to Rafe, your heart aching at the sight of him so beaten and broken. “Rafe…” you whispered, your voice filled with a mix of worry and sadness.

Rafe looked up at you, his eyes bloodshot and teary, but he shook his head weakly. “Just go,” he murmured, his voice barely audible.

Your throat tightened, and you swallowed hard, knowing that he wasn’t happy with you. You hesitated for a moment longer, then slowly stood up.

“Y/N, you coming?” Kie’s voice called from the car.

You looked down at Rafe one last time, your heart heavy with guilt and confusion, before turning and walking away. As soon as you climbed into the car, Kie slammed her foot on the gas, speeding away from the docks.

“What was that?” Kie asked, her voice sharp as she glanced at you in the rearview mirror.

“What?” you replied, your mind still spinning from everything that had just happened.

“You and Rafe?” Kie pressed, raising an eyebrow as she met your gaze in the mirror.

You sighed, your voice defensive as you answered, “I was just making sure he wasn’t dead.”

Kie didn’t seem convinced but chose not to push further. “It looked like more than that, but fine,” she muttered, her eyes flicking back to the road.

•°•°•°•°•°•

When you arrived at the dump, the distant wail of police sirens filled the air, adding to the tension already weighing heavily on everyone.

“Dude, where is he?” Kie complained, her arms crossed as she paced nervously. Her eyes darted around, scanning the horizon for any sign of John B.

Pope stood firm, trying to keep everyone calm. “Give him a second. He'll be here.”

“He’s coming. He’ll be fine,” JJ added confidently, but even his usual bravado couldn’t mask the worry creeping into his voice.

The sound of a police siren suddenly made you all spin around, and your heart raced as a cop car pulled up right in front of you.

“JJ!” Kie’s eyes widened with fear, her body tensing. The anxiety in her voice was palpable.

JJ quickly turned to her. “Hey, yeah. Get back on the boat,” he urged, his tone urgent. “Untie it.”

“Shit,” Kie cursed under her breath as she started moving toward the boat.

The car door creaked open, and everyone froze, holding their breath. But instead of a cop stepping out, John B emerged, his face lit up with a familiar grin.

“Wait. No way,” JJ muttered, his disbelief spreading across his face.

“No fucking way,” Pope echoed, his voice a mixture of shock and awe.

“I’m sorry,” Kie snapped, her eyes wide with astonishment.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” JJ said, but this time his shock turned into an excited grin.

John B chuckled, clearly enjoying the confusion. “Uh... Shoupe let me take it for a spin.”

“Okay, that’s believable. I'll buy that for now,” Kie laughed, the tension easing as relief washed over the group.

“It wasn’t easy, bro,” JJ admitted with a proud smile, tossing the boat keys to John B, who caught them with ease. “But I got the Phantom for you, and she runs like she was made yesterday.” JJ’s grin widened. “You ready to go?”

John B’s eyes scanned the area, and his expression grew serious. “Where’s Sarah?”

A knot tightened in your stomach. You’d been so focused on John B that you hadn’t realized Sarah wasn’t with him.

“She’s not with you?” You asked, concern creeping into your voice.

John B shook his head, worry flashing in his eyes. “No, we got separated in the swamp. She said she’d meet me here.”

Pope glanced around the dock, his face tightening. “No, we haven’t seen her.”

John B’s jaw clenched, determination flashing in his eyes. “Okay, well, I’m not leaving without her.”

You could see the worry etched in his features, and your mind raced with thoughts of where Sarah might be. Thunder rumbled in the distance, the darkening clouds signaling an approaching storm. The tension in the air was thick, almost suffocating.

John B hopped into the boat, preparing to leave as the pogues gathered around to say their goodbyes. You stood a little further back, unsure of what to say as emotions swirled in your chest.

“Tell Sarah I said goodbye, okay?” John B asked, his voice cracking with emotion. He tried to maintain his composure, but the weight of leaving his friends behind was clearly taking a toll.

You all nodded, silently sharing the gravity of the moment. As he started the boat, the engine roared to life, and the sound echoed across the water. The boat began to pull away, drifting further from the dock as John B steered it toward the horizon.

But as you turned around, the sound of approaching sirens sent a jolt of panic through you. “Hey, guys, I’m sorry to ruin the party, but, uh, we gotta go right now.”

You moved toward the car, your heart pounding in your chest. Just as your hand reached for the door, a cop car screeched to a stop in front of you, blocking your path. You stepped back, throwing your hands up in the air, as did JJ and Kie. But Pope, always stubborn, marched toward the officers, his fists clenched in frustration.

“Put your hands up!” one of the officers barked, holding their guns steady.

“We’re too late. He’s gone. God damn it!” Shoupe growled, slamming the car door in frustration. He stormed over, his eyes narrowing as he assessed the situation. He glanced at all of you, his expression hard. “Where’s John B?”

None of you said a word. The silence hung heavily in the air as you stood there, defiant and resolute. Shoupe’s patience was wearing thin, but before he could press further, a voice crackled through the radio.

“Suspect just left station 26 in a small boat,” the radio operator announced, and Shoupe’s expression twisted in frustration.

The officers swiftly moved in, cuffing each of you. You winced as they roughly dragged you toward their cars. The sky had turned pitch black by the time they hauled you out of the vehicles. The sound of reporters and onlookers buzzed around you as they guided you through the chaos, cameras flashing and questions flying through the air.

The agents sat you down on foldable chairs inside a large tent. Shoupe barked orders at his deputies. “Sit down. Don’t move. We got a lot to talk about.”

You glanced around nervously, hoping to hear any news about Sarah and John B. The tent buzzed with activity, officers darting back and forth, phones ringing, and radios crackling.

“The blockade is up at the marsh and Masonboro and all other inlets from Shem Creek to Breach Inlet. I want eyes on all coastal access points, people. Let’s get this guy!” one of the men in charge shouted, his tone filled with authority.

The four of you sat in tense silence, ears straining to catch any bits of information from the frantic crowd of officers. Suddenly, the power flickered, and all the lights blazed back on. Your heart raced as you heard someone shout.

“That’s them! There they are!” a man’s voice rang out. The chaos intensified, voices overlapping as officers scrambled in all directions.

Your breath caught in your throat. Them? You realized with a jolt that they were talking about both John B and Sarah. She was with him.

TAGS: @wearemadeofstardust0 @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @thepopcultureaddict @deeznuggetsbebussin@wtfdudesblog

[its-my-life-is-it]

Seven 'Ps' to 'Terminator' anger. - Part Five - Grounding

When angry I am in a different space. Earth to Me! Practice Grounding! #mentalhealth

Previously: Part One – Seven Ps to cope; Part Two – Four Ps to prepare; Part Three – Pause; Part Four – Breathe.    Earth to Me – Out-of-body experience! Photo by NASA on Unsplash We are often lost in our thoughts and emotions when angry. In a way, this is a flight from reality. Strong emotions have a physiological impact and intensify the feeling. But we rarely notice this since we are in the…

[honeybeezgobzzzzz]

Ψ M is for Maraclea: Chapter Eight

M is for Maraclea: Following an accident you had over summer break, you find yourself in limbo after being legally dead for several minutes. Now an outcast at boarding school, you end up finding comfort in a strange boy named Nigel. As winter draws near and tragedy strikes, your only reprieve from madness comes from a mind much like your own.

Warnings: Bullying

To Note: Nigel Colbie x Fem!Reader, NAMED Reader for Plot Reasons, There Are A Lot of DARK Themes.

Word Count: ~2.9k

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The sky glows with the hues of a setting sun, casting long shadows across the lake. Your footsteps crunch softly on the gravel path, the only sound in the stillness. The conversation with your father lingers in your mind—his concern, his attempts at reassurance. But here, by the lake, you find a semblance of peace.

You take a deep breath, savoring the crisp air. The cold numbs your thoughts, gives you a momentary reprieve from everything else. Your fingers brush against the surface of the water as you walk along the edge, sending ripples out into the stillness.

Then you hear them—voices breaking through your solitude. You look up and see Jane, Victoria, and Charity approaching. Their faces are tight with anger, eyes locked on you with an intensity that makes your stomach churn.

"Well, if it isn't zombie fish girl," Jane sneers, her voice dripping with venom.

You straighten up, meeting their gazes head-on. The cold has given you a strange kind of courage. "What do you want?" you ask, keeping your voice steady.

Victoria steps forward, her eyes narrowing. "We want you to stay away from us and our lives," she snaps. "You and your creepy boyfriend."

Charity crosses her arms over her chest, glaring at you with a mix of fear and loathing. "Ever since you came back from... wherever you were, things have gone wrong. Susan's dead because of you."

Jane steps closer, her breath visible in the cold air. "It should have been you who died," she hisses, her voice sharp and cutting. "Susan was good, kind. She didn't deserve to die."

You feel the sting of her words but don't look away. You keep your eyes locked on hers, feeling the weight of her anger. No one had blamed you for Susan's death yet, this was new.

Victoria chimes in, her voice dripping with disdain. "Yeah, even if tyour guts were torn open, you'd just come back to life like some freaky horror movie character."

Charity's face twists with bitterness. "But no, Susan had to be the one to go missing. To be found dead. Because of you."

Your heart tightens, but you refuse to show it. "You don't know what you're talking about," you say quietly, your voice steady despite the turmoil inside.

Jane scoffs, her eyes narrowing. "We know enough. You're a curse, Mary Forbes. A walking disaster."

You swallow hard, feeling the cold seep deeper into your bones. You want to scream, to lash out at them for their cruelty. But instead, you stand there, silent and resolute.

"You should just disappear," Victoria says with a sneer. "Maybe then things will go back to normal."

The words hang in the air like a poisonous cloud, suffocating you with their venom. But you don't give them the satisfaction of seeing you break.

"Is that all?" you ask, your voice flat and emotionless.

Jane's sneer deepens as she steps even closer, her breath hot and acidic against your face. "You should just go back to the fishes where you belong," she spits out, her voice a venomous hiss.

Before you can react, she shoves you with both hands. The force catches you off guard, and your feet slip on the damp ground. You stumble backward, arms flailing for balance, but it's too late. The world tilts, and you feel the icy shock of water enveloping you.

You hit the lake with a splash, the cold biting into your skin like a thousand needles. The chill knocks the breath out of you, and for a moment, all you can do is gasp, struggling to process the sudden change in temperature. The water closes over your head briefly before you manage to break the surface, coughing and sputtering.

You sit up in the shallows, water streaming down your face and hair. The cold seeps into your bones, but it's nothing compared to the raw humiliation burning inside you. You look up at the shore to see Jane, Victoria, and Charity standing there, their expressions a mix of satisfaction and disdain.

Jane's laugh is sharp and cruel. "Look at her," she jeers. "Perfect place for a zombie fish girl."

Victoria nudges Charity with her elbow, her own smile twisted with contempt. "Let's go. We've wasted enough time here."

The three of them turn away, their laughter echoing in the air as they walk back toward the path. They don't look back as they leave you there in the freezing water.

You sit there for a moment longer, feeling the weight of their words pressing down on you like an anchor. The cold numbs your body, but it can't touch the anger simmering beneath the surface.

Finally, you force yourself to move. Your limbs feel heavy and sluggish as you push yourself up out of the water and onto the shore. The chill clings to you like a second skin as you stand there, dripping and shivering.

You drag yourself to a nearby bench, the weight of your soaked uniform pulling at your limbs. Each step feels heavier than the last, but you push forward, your breath coming out in short, visible puffs. The cold air stings your cheeks, but it’s nothing compared to the icy grip of the lake water still clinging to your skin.

You collapse onto the bench, feeling the wooden slats dig into your back. The cold seeps deeper into you, a familiar and bitter numbness that you’ve come to know too well. It should be comforting, this cold, but tonight it brings no peace. Instead, it gnaws at you, making every muscle ache and every thought sharper.

You pull your knees to your chest and wrap your arms around them, trying to contain the shivers wracking your body. Your fingers are stiff and clumsy as they clutch at the fabric of your uniform. The wet material sticks to you like a second skin, a constant reminder of the humiliation you just endured.

For a moment, you close your eyes and try to focus on something else—anything else. You imagine the sound of piano keys under your fingers, each note crisp and clear. But even that memory feels tainted now, overshadowed by the cruelty you faced.

You don’t want this cold. You don’t want this numbness that wraps around you like a suffocating blanket. It’s not the escape it used to be; it’s a prison now, trapping you in a state of constant discomfort. You want Nigel. You need Nigel.

You hear footsteps approaching, but you don’t look up. The shivering is almost violent now, your teeth chattering uncontrollably. A familiar voice breaks through the haze.

"Mary! What the hell happened?"

You raise your head slightly and see Nigel standing there, his face twisted with concern. His eyes scan your soaked form, taking in the shivering and the blue tinge to your lips.

"You’re going into hypothermia," he says, urgency in his tone. "You need to get back to the dorm and change immediately."

You shake your head, unable to form words through the chattering of your teeth. The thought of facing those girls again, of going back to that place—it’s too much.

Nigel frowns, his worry deepening. He kneels beside you, his hands moving quickly to peel off your soaked jacket. You try to protest, but he’s insistent.

"Mary, you can’t stay like this. You’ll get sick." His voice is firm but gentle as he removes your jacket and wraps his own coat around you. It’s warm, and you can feel a small measure of heat returning to your frozen limbs.

He helps you to your feet, supporting most of your weight as you stumble. "Come on," he murmurs, guiding you away from the bench and toward the train station.

The walk is a blur of cold air and shivering steps. Nigel holds you close, his warmth seeping into you through the layers of clothing. By the time you reach the train station, you’re barely aware of your surroundings.

Nigel buys two tickets with quick efficiency, never letting go of you for more than a moment. He guides you onto the train and finds a secluded seat where he can wrap an arm around you, sharing his body heat.

As the train starts moving, Nigel looks down at you with a mixture of concern and determination. "We’re going to my house," he says softly. "You need to get warm."

You nod weakly, too exhausted to argue. The rhythmic clatter of the train tracks lulls you into a half-sleeping state as Nigel keeps a protective arm around you.

When the train finally stops at his station, Nigel helps you off and supports you as you walk the short distance to his home. The warmth inside is a welcome relief from the biting cold outside.

But Nigel doesn’t stop there. He leads you through his house with purposeful strides until he reaches stairs that lead down into a crawl space beneath his home.

"I have a heater and a change of clothes for you down below," Nigel speaks, leading you down the stairs and into the low space. The air is warmer here, and the sound of a heater humming softly is a comfort. You crouch as you proceed, and when Nigel make a left turn to a space that takes you back.

The space is small but meticulously organized. Shelves line the walls, filled with an array of books, strange artifacts, and jars filled with unidentifiable contents. In one corner, a small electric heater hums softly, casting a warm glow over the area. A thick, worn rug covers the floor, providing a semblance of comfort against the cold ground.

A cot is set up against one wall, its blankets neatly folded and waiting. Beside it, a small table holds a basin of water, a towel, and a change of clothes—sweatpants and an oversized sweater that must belong to Nigel. Rather than immediately moving closer to the heater, your eyes stared at the numerous anatomical drawings.

You take in the scene around you, the anatomical drawings and jars creating a strange, eerie atmosphere. The crawl space feels both intimate and unsettling, a place where Nigel's obsessions manifest in physical form. Your eyes linger on a particularly detailed drawing of a human heart, its intricate veins and arteries sketched with almost loving precision.

Nigel moves around the small space with practiced ease, setting down a bundle of clothes for you. "Here," he says softly, "you need to change out of those wet clothes."

You stare at the bundle of clothes Nigel placed beside you, the warm, dry fabric a stark contrast to the cold seeping through your soaked uniform. The idea of changing feels like an impossible task. The cold, biting and relentless, numbs you from the harsh sting of their words. It wraps around you like a protective cocoon, dulling the pain.

"I can't," you whisper, your voice barely audible over the hum of the heater.

Nigel kneels beside you, concern etched across his face. "Mary, you need to get warm. You'll get sick if you stay in those wet clothes."

You shake your head, wrapping your arms tighter around yourself. "The cold... it helps," you say, struggling to make him understand. "It numbs everything."

Nigel's eyes soften with understanding, but he doesn't back down. "I get that, Mary. But this isn't safe. You can't stay like this." He reaches out and gently takes your hand, his warmth seeping into your icy skin. "Let me help you."

You look away, your eyes landing on the anatomical drawings again. The detailed sketches remind you of the fragility of life—how easily things can break and fall apart. You take a deep breath, feeling the cold air fill your lungs.

"I don't want to feel anything right now," you admit quietly.

Nigel squeezes your hand gently, his voice soothing but firm. "I know it's hard, but you have to take care of yourself. The cold might numb the pain for a while, but it's not a solution."

You close your eyes, feeling the tears welling up behind your eyelids. The weight of everything presses down on you—the bullying, Susan's death, the relentless ache inside you that never seems to go away.

Nigel's grip tightens slightly as he senses your turmoil. "Mary," he says softly, "let me be your warmth. Let me chase away those thoughts."

Nigel’s words hang in the air, a strange mixture of comfort and command. You feel his warmth through your hand, a stark contrast to the chill gripping your bones. For a moment, you waver, caught between the urge to stay numb and the need for his warmth.

Slowly, you nod, the movement small but significant.

Nigel's eyes remain locked onto yours, a deep intensity swirling in his gaze. You can feel the warmth of his hand, steady and firm, as he begins to unbutton his shirt. Each movement is deliberate, almost ritualistic, as if he's shedding layers not just of clothing but of himself. His fingers work deftly, slipping the buttons through their holes with practiced ease.

The shirt falls open, revealing the smooth expanse of his chest. The room's dim light casts shadows over the contours of his muscles, highlighting every line and curve. You can't help but be mesmerized by the sight, a strange mix of comfort and vulnerability emanating from him.

Nigel shrugs off the shirt entirely, leaving him bare-chested before you. His skin glows with a warmth that contrasts sharply with your own cold, damp state. He reaches out and gently removes the coat he had wrapped around you earlier, the warmth it provided dissipating instantly.

You shiver as the cold air hits your skin again, but Nigel's presence grounds you. His hands move to your tie next, his fingers brushing against your neck as he loosens it with careful precision. The tie slips away, and you feel a strange sense of release as it falls to the floor.

Nigel's eyes never leave yours as he starts on your shirt buttons. His fingers work slowly, almost reverently, each button undone with deliberate care. The fabric parts gradually under his touch, exposing more of your chilled skin to the warm air circulating in the small space.

Your breath catches in your throat as Nigel's fingers brush against your collarbone. His touch is gentle yet firm, a silent promise of safety and warmth. He continues unbuttoning your shirt with unwavering focus, his eyes still locked onto yours.

As the last button comes undone, Nigel gently pulls the shirt away from your shoulders. The cold air bites at your exposed skin for a moment before Nigel's warmth envelops you again. He wraps his arms around you, pulling you close to his bare chest.

The heat from his body seeps into yours, chasing away the lingering chill. You close your eyes and rest your head against him, feeling his heartbeat steady and strong beneath your cheek.

Nigel’s fingers glide over your shivering, wet skin, each touch a promise of warmth. You can’t help but groan, a sound escaping your lips unbidden as the heat of his hands sinks into your cold flesh. It’s almost too much to bear, this sudden rush of warmth after the numbing chill.

He moves closer, his breath warm against your ear. His hands continue their journey, tracing patterns over your arms and back, driving away the cold that clings to you like a second skin. Every touch feels like a lifeline, pulling you back from the icy abyss you’ve been teetering on.

Your groan deepens as his fingers find a particularly cold spot on your shoulder, his touch both soothing and electrifying. You lean into him, seeking more of that life-giving warmth, craving it like a starved creature.

Nigel’s lips brush against your temple first, a soft, tentative kiss that sends a shiver down your spine—a different kind of shiver this time. He moves slowly, his lips trailing down to your cheek and then finally finding yours.

The kiss is gentle at first, his lips warm and inviting against your cold ones. You respond instinctively, pressing closer to him as if trying to merge your cold with his heat. His hand cups the back of your neck, holding you steady as the kiss deepens.

You can feel the warmth spreading through you now, not just from Nigel’s touch but from the connection between you. The numbness starts to fade, replaced by a tingling awareness of every inch of your body. His lips move against yours with a careful intensity, each kiss a promise of more warmth and comfort.

As you kiss him back, you feel something inside you thawing—a part of you that has been frozen for too long. It’s not just the physical cold leaving you; it’s something deeper, something more profound. Nigel’s presence melts away some of the darkness that has been clinging to you since the accident.

You break the kiss for a moment to catch your breath, but Nigel doesn’t pull away. His forehead rests against yours, his breath mingling with yours in the small space between you.

"We need to get the rest of your wet clothes off, my lovely Maraclea," he whispers, his voice low and filled with concern. A shiver runs up your spine as another bout of cold ripples across your skin.

"Please," you whisper, your fingers pressing against his chest. "Fix me."

"There is nothing to fix," Nigel tells you before kissing you once more.

Date Published: 7/7/24

Last Edit: 7/7/24

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[triscribeaucollection]

@icarussmicarus I blame you for this

My so far one and only hashed-out Treasure Planet fan fic idea: nearly the same plot and events as the movie, *except*, it takes place a few years earlier, with a smaller, scrawnier, Still Figuring Out His Rebellious Teenager Mode Jim, who is NOT allowed to go into space on a mad treasure hunting voyage with just Delbert Doppler for supervision.

So his mom Sarah goes too.

Maybe Jim's dad left earlier than in canon, maybe the Benbow Inn has only been up and running a short time rather than being an established business, but either way, the kid is still in his earlier days of solar surfing and skirting the edges of the law (rather that blasting clear over those edges by his mid-teens).

Old Billy Bones shows up badly injured. The map is handed over. He dies, the pirates show up, the inn burns down.

But when Jim manages to unlock the sphere and reveal Treasure Planet's location, eagerly declaring that they can go and get Flint's Trove and rebuild, Sarah absolutely, positively, categorically refuses to let him take off into the unknown like a certain long gone husband without any guarantee of coming back.

...and she holds out for a good ten minutes, too, until both young Jim and Doctor Doppler manage to convince her to turn it into a family adventure.

I can see her awkwardly attempting to hold a conversation with Captain Amelia, hitting it off slightly better with the straightforward Mister Arrow, and settling into the kitchen with Long John Silver with minimal fuss despite Jim's wariness towards the man. There's the rough period of adjustment, of course, as the outsiders struggle to find there footing, but soon enough... There's a night where Silver's telling stories for the crew, putting his prosthetic arm to great effect, and at one point he starts in on a legend that Sarah actually knows. So, at a key moment, she steps up to his table and in her best bedtime story acting voice, participates. It turns into a great act, Silver easily going with the change, and between the two of them the gathered crew members are roaring with laughter soon enough. Even Jim's delighted by the show, and finally starts to come out of his sullen shell a bit more. The day he and Silver set out on a brief jaunt in one of the lifeboats and come back with matching grins is the day Sarah finally, finally, starts to feel she made the right choice.

And then they're caught in the grip of a collapsing star.

Everything gets battened down, all hands secured with lifelines, Sarah gets a momentary glimpse of Silver bracing himself over Jim just before they're pulled into darkness- and that final burst of energy carries them clear of the black hole. There's cheering, relief, high spirits... up until it's revealed they lose Mister Arrow.

Sarah abruptly feels the grief tenfold again. Of losing her inn, losing her husband, feeling so close to losing Jim... that night she has her first heartfelt conversation with Silver, actually telling him about the series of unfortunate events that led to her and Jim being on this voyage, and talking to him proves to be just as cathartic as venting to Delbert, maybe even a little more-so. He's honest with her in return (or as honest as the secret captain of a pirate crew can be at that moment), and the bridge of trust grows a little wider.

So of course I intend to be extra mean and make the punches hit even harder once the deception is revealed. The pirates stage their mutiny, Amelia, Doppler, Sarah and Jim (with stowaway Morph) barely escape in a lifeboat, and only after crash-landing on the planet below do they find out the map got left behind.

B.E.N is a blessing, providing them with a safe place to rest. When Silver shows up with his flag of parley, Sarah is the one to go out and speak to him, to snarl her anger and throw some of his own words back in his face. They don't part on good terms.

As night falls, Jim quietly asks what they're going to do. Sarah strokes his hair and promises they'll figure it out.

When B.E.N reveals the hidden passageway, Sarah orders Jim to stay put and stand guard for the others. She sneaks back up to the Legacy, engages in a frantic fight with bug-face, just barely, barely managing to trick him into cutting his own lifeline while the anti-gravity is deactivated, to go float away into the vast darkness of space just as he doomed Mister Arrow.

The map is secured. It seems all might turn out well after all. But then she gets back, to find the pirates have snuck into B.E.N's home. Delbert and Amelia are bound and gagged; Jim too, but he's still fighting, still trying to kick at the pirates holding him up.

Silver takes the map.

Silver can't open the map.

Silver tries to order Sarah to open it instead, and when she says she can't, he pulls out his pistol and aims it at Jim.

For a heart-stopping moment she can't speak, but then Sarah's fury comes flooding back and she yells that her son is the one who knows how to open the damn thing so put the weapon down. It gets turned on her instead, when Jim's cut loose, in order to force the boy to cooperate.

All four prisoners get brought along, mother and son kept out of arm's reach of one another until they reach the map's destination, and Jim figures out how to open the portal into the planet's core, into Flint's Trove itself. At that point, faced with mountains of treasure, the pirates pretty much stop caring, and both of them along with B.E.N are able to sneak off towards a decrepit old boat.

But of course, the booby trap goes off. All that treasure starts sliding away, the planet beginning to shake apart. Rather than race for the exit like his panicking crew, Silver sees what Sarah and Jim are doing, trying to get the small craft operational, and sees that as a good moment to step in himself.

Until Sarah comes at him with a sword, anyway.

There's a moment where she is very much about to stab him, only for the boat to get hit and send everybody tumbling. Jim, smaller and lighter, stops falling sooner. So it's Sarah, who goes falling off a newly made cliff, fragments of the core continuing to retract and separate and leaving her with no clear way to climb back up. Jim tries to reach for her, yelling desperately, and Sarah screams back that he is not allowed to come down over the edge after, he needs to run, to get out of there, NOW!

The last bit of metal she's clinging to slides into a sheer surface. Sarah drops.

And Silver catches her.

---

I'm still fiddling with their grand escape from the exploding planet and what happens after, what sort of ending would feel the most satisfying after the moments of apology and reconciliation and if you ever point a weapon at my son again, Silver, then so help me moment that I *have* to include. Maybe Sarah rebuilds the inn, with a certain cook hired on. Maybe she decides the space-faring life wasn't so bad, and decides to go see more distant stars with Jim by her side. However it turns out, the Hawkins pair are sure to have some more adventures together.

[daz4i]

please please please share dazai fear analysis 🤲

hehe well i'm not gonna get too in depth (mostly bc my brain isn't at 100% atm) but a short version bc i don't wanna leave you hanging,

i'm basing this on no longer human and yozo, like most of my dazai analysis hehe. in nlh he talks often about how painfully afraid he is of p much everything, because he doesn't understand people, and he doesn't want to get caught if he does anything wrong, too afraid to say no because he doesn't know how the other person will react, etc

i think. if you apply this reading to bsd dazai, a lot of his behavior makes sense, as well as adds depth to him and his more questionable actions

a p obvious example: the whole meursault arc, i think he is genuinely afraid to die, because he knows if he does then fyodor will come out on top and hurt his loved ones, destroy the whole world even. clearly, he is afraid of losing the people dear to him (but that's a very normal reaction lbr lol)

a general example: his constant acting like everything is fine to hide his real emotions - which, during his early mafia days, took form in looking blank and emotionless - can be a fear response of not knowing how other people will react to his true feelings, either due to past trauma where his emotions were dismissed or he got hurt for expressing them, or imo, more likely, due to a lack of understanding other people and not quite knowing what'll tick them off

(which might sound silly, bc he purposely ticks people off and looks to annoy people. but, this is a way to have control over the situation. that if the other person gets mad at him, he clearly knows why, he knows what he did to cause this, so this is like a precautionary measure to make sure he's not caught off guard. his fear isn't quite of their anger, or even getting hurt by their anger, but rather a lack of control or understanding of the situation)

a possibly controversial example: the way he acted with akutagawa during the dark era. i think, if you look at his actions as "basically a kid who is afraid to see this kid he found get hurt in combat, so he tries to make him stronger no matter what, and in the meantime is afraid to get attached in case the other kid does die so he tries to distance himself from him emotionally" it ofc doesn't excuse his actions, but imo, makes them. a bit more understandable, in a way. at least enough to somewhat empathize with him more

[this might be a slight side tangent but i have this hc i firmly believe in, that dazai caused ryuu's lung disease by injuring him somehow (given how he doesn't have it in the beast universe), and one of the reasons he's more gentle with atsushi is because he's afraid to hurt him too. not the main reason, but i do think it may add some depth here]

i do think he eased up after being in the ada for awhile - life became mostly predictable, nothing he couldn't handle - but. things changed, and now he's on edge again (turning you to story's lovely analysis that i keep referencing in a lot of my own dazai analysis bc it's so so good). fyodor coming back into his life certainly didn't help, either

now. since i can't not bring up his relationship with chuuya. i do think he has an easier time trusting chuuya because he knows he can handle himself. he doesn't feel the need to control him - always leaving him a choice in their plans - because he's not afraid of what could happen to him, he knows chuuya will be fine. also, their relationship started in such an awful way he doesn't need to hide his emotions around him :P this is why i think he has an easier time being with chuuya really, he's a momentary break from being in constant fear. this might also be why he's so obnoxious when chuuya's around lmao (idk how much of this is actual analysis rather than "if you read them this way it adds a nice depth" so feel free to take this part with a grain of salt, i will always be the first to admit i'm not the best at reading skk hehe)

and while i didn't finish sb yet he does seem to be. really afraid in a lot of the scenes he's in, from what i read so far askjdfg bc now chuuya is in real danger! in a way he can't predict! this hasn't happened yet! (but i could ofc bc very wrong abt that lol)

(also i gotta say. i think this is what odasaku was for him too - ofc in addition to other things - bc he knows odasaku wouldn't hurt him or react in a bad way even if he did anything outrageous. and that's in part what made his rejection in beast so devastating for him, bc it shakes up one of the only safe things in his life)

i'd say, dazai's fear isn't paralyzing, at least not for more than a second a time. it makes him active, makes him overthink, over-analyze, over-prepare. and at the same time, he does it mostly from behind the scenes, through nudging and subtle encouragements, because he may possibly fear that if he went at it with full force, the people he already got attached to will reject him (bc at his core, i think he doesn't want to be alone, but that's a topic for another time). but more importantly - that he will become like fyodor, or like mori, who see people as disposable if it helps them further their goals

^now this is more of his current self, at least. i'd argue mafia!dazai's fears were different, more of a direct fear from people and how they might hurt him, so it's best for him to go along with what they say. and, a fear of a lack of meaning. he does constantly look for a reason to live, and that may come from a fear that his existence is truly meaningless (and while for most people this fear may express itself as fearing death as well, in dazai's case it's his suicidal tendencies. kind of like proving his fear is real, the way a kid might look at the monster they think is scary to convince themselves it can't hurt them. he will die and prove his existence WAS meaningless, but that idea can't actually hurt him at the end of the day if he chooses it. idk if this analogy makes sense to anyone but me tho lmao sorry)

i. don't know how clear this is. i may have lost the plot there at some point. again let me clarify this is obviously not a "this is how dazai is and any other reading is wrong" but more like "if you apply this reading it changes the context of his characters and explains his behavior and how i personally see him". also a lot of projection 👍 ajsdfghj feel free to see it as just a thought experiment if it doesn't quite fit your perception of him :)!

[sweaterkittensahoy]

very ironic that your description is about how youre a feminist but youre a vile racist

Oh, honey.

Honey, no. This won't do at all. Oh, this is so sad.

Okay, so first of all, you're on anon, which makes me not take you seriously at all. You're just a rando on the internet who doesn't even have the spine to show your face. But that's okay. I get it. Hate mail is scary to send because you might have to face the consequences of your actions if people see you acting like an absolute fuckstick.

But, let's put that aside. Let's just put that aside for the moment and concentrate on what you've said. And honey, I tell you this because I want you to be better. I truly do.

This is weak fucking shit.

Let's break it down, okay. Let me help you be better at being an absolute fuckstick too spineless to show your face when you say shit to people, okay? Okay.

You CAN'T start out sounding like you're coming at me for being a bad feminist and then left turn into calling me a racist. This splits your attempt to ragebait me. Do I get mad you're calling me a bad feminist? Or do I get mad you're calling me a racist? You want your ragebait to be very focused. That's how you get people to respond without thinking and give yourself the chance to send a second anon to egg them on.

Focus is the key to ragebait. You must focus so that your victim focuses and so that you can feel very proud of yourself for being clever.

Now, if roles were reversed--this won't ever happen because I use my spine, but let's pretend--I'd have just stuck with calling me a bad feminist. Why? Because it's in my description. That means it's something I really value and find important. That means I'd be less likely to think before I replied, thus giving you the ragebait answer you're seeking so hard.

Like, I get it. Tacking racist on there seems like a great strategy. People knee jerk about being called racist all the time. It's a really easy one. And I do love to write long replies to things, so it's really a good way to get a lot of words you could dissect and rearrange to mean whatever you want, thereby trapping me in a rage off.

But you didn't FOCUS. And you also went too hard. You can't use "vile" when trying to ragebait someone. You sound like a super villain, and it makes me laugh to see it used like this, which breaks me out of any momentary anger I may have felt at being accused of things, and thus lessens the chance I will actually ragebait and write a screed about how dare you and such.

Look, you tried your best. But it's hard to be really good at this when you're aiming it at someone who has been around a long time, never sent anon hate, and has seen (and on occasion fallen for--I'll admit it) many, many ragebait attempts before.

But it's okay. No one knows who you are because you didn't have the spine to put your name on being an absolute fuckstick, so you won't have to face any consequences for trying to look tough on the internet.

You take a little time now, okay? You sit with my tips and think about if this is really what you want to do with your time. Really just consider if being an absolute fuckstick with no spine is your goal in life. Spend some time trying some other hobbies, really give yourself space to think.