#but he definitely says something about emotional pain fueling him when it's someone else who's stabbing him

[coquelicoq]

kai, an immortal whose body immediately and automatically heals itself, discovering that his own pain creates power he can use to fuel his magic: good news! i found an infinite clean source of energy. it's called STABBING MYSELF IN THE CHEST REPEATEDLY

kai: the best part is that emotional trauma counts too! including the emotional trauma incurred from being stabbed! bogo power source!

everyone:

[Image description: GIF of Julia Louis-Dreyfuss's character from "Veep" turning away from someone with a strained smile, looking disturbed. The caption says, "[Laughing nervously] What the fuck?" /end ID]

[fluxofthemouth]

@lellarps starting fresh from [xxx]

As Azrail stared at the fireplace, he wasn’t mindful at all about how much time had passed — and it was not merely because time was something difficult for most beings to grasp within his Realm (because for him, it was not a difficulty at all), but because he was lost in his own thinking. Too worried. He thought about Ignus. He thought about the things that led them to their confrontation. He thought about how sweet retribution could be, but also, he knew, that whenever he cooled down, he’d regret retaliating. He knew why his brother had acted out. Not that he agreed— but he could understand where that had come from. Which led him to the dilemma: what to do next?

He wasn’t anywhere near the answer as he heard his guest’s call; whispering, like an endangered prey testing his grounds. The feelings came in waves to the ancient god… for he could feel and see other’s auras, sense their easiness or their struggles. And he didn’t like one bit the things pouring off this one. Azrail sighed; of all the Nymphs, the good-willing people in this world… somehow determined that this stupid one was the one crossing his way. Maybe there was a reason for it. Maybe not. Heavy, sober steps took him back to the chambers, which he entered before a single knock. There was no door. He simply made a noise against the stone wall. “Are you… alright?” it seemed odd to ask, and he didn’t sound exactly concerned. He did scan the other though, seeking for something too obviously misplaced or wounded. “Or as alright as one could be after… whatever that was” an inquisitive eyebrow was lifted. His presence was… strong. Expansive. As if he dominated the very air around them. Someone who wasn’t used to asking things, or maybe not used to talking at all. Even so, someone who could dissipate one’s existence with a simple snap of his fingers. Someone who poured pure power. Was the air denser once he got in? It seemed so. @fluxofthemouth

Piter can read auras too. It isn't a magical ability. It comes from trauma and starts with the question, are you mad at me? The answer is probably yes. Azrail carries the kind of ultimate power that doesn't obligate him to present his emotions strategically. This is are you mad at me on easy mode, and the answer is most definitely yes.

Piter is entirely obligated to present his emotions strategically, very often. Still, as he grows older he has less and less energy for it. Even as he rallies to assemble the correct response, there is a flash of anger, resentment; rage, even, that he is yet again playing the cowering fool to someone else's fucking power trip.

But he does play the role. The anger can be stored down deep, with all the rest. Fuel for the violence that makes him valuable.

He lowers to the ground on his knees, head bowed with a hand on the floor.

"Surely a servant of yours can handle the matter of me, your Grace," he says. "I am, myself, but the servant of another. How should I address a Lord of the Underworld? Grace, Highness, Lord...all human terms for nobility, I will use another if you wish."

And still, traces of that anger ripple through the overwhelming show of deference. Piter helped Azrail heal. He's earned something for that. But power is always the same. No deserving, no fairness. Only petty wants and whims disguised as the correct and inevitable way of things. Here's hoping this otherworldly king is even slightly kinder than the Baron that Piter knows.

Underneath even the anger is fear, anticipation, of pain. He trembles with it; is lucky to breathe. He has seen a lot of pain in his life. An aura describing his internal experience would show activation at countless sites of injuries old and new, too many to remember distinctly, all impossible to protect from the threat before him now. There's a bright ring around his neck, like a glowing collar; he's currently anticipating being grabbed by the throat and pulled to his feet, and his neck is already sore from when his head was stuck in the pot.

He guesses, perhaps correctly, that surrender is the appropriate response to this situation. And his attempts at surrender fall short, are cut short where the anger bites back, where the pain cries for protection. Violence is not a surrender, it's a cycle.

[pennyroyal-xiv]

Hope you don't mind me spewing my thoughts on this flavored with my headcanons, I'm just feeling yappy:

I love the punch in the gut of thinking about this moment. Personally I imagine Endwalker as a disastrous miscommunication blender of unrequited feelings, I shouldn't-but-I-want-tos, jealousy, envy, bitterness, old wounds preventing progress, and emotionally-fucked-up lashing out between WoL and Zenos.

By this point in the story my HC is they've come so close to having a Real Talk And getting their feelings sorted out, but each keep fucking it up in world-endingly disastrous ways (Zenos with his dinner date and joyride - dude you gotta stop taking advice from Fandaniel!) and WoL with giving in a little to their feelings, freaking out about it, and causing Zenos to think he's being spurned when they bolt.

So when Alisaie is chewing Zenos out, it's extra painful because Alisaie definitely knows that *something* was going on between them. Of course she doesn't think he deserves the time of day from WoL, and she reads him the riot act like any good bff would to their bestie's ex who hurt them. Rightfully so, she's pissed that A) her bestie cares about this asshole, B) that this asshole doesn't care enough for her, and C) That he's causing the end of the world for selfish reasons.

But WoL is standing there feeling this utter mindfuck of horrible emotions, guilt, regret, sadness, longing, the works. They wish that things had worked out and they could have reached Zenos in time. Now they feel like there's this huge chasm between them, a gulf that cannot be crossed due to Zenos starting the Final Days in a last-ditch attempt to win the WoL's attention and affections. He went too far. Where they could have bent the rules before, could have maybe connected despite their shared history, they can no longer. Zenos knew that as soon as he crossed paths with the WoL on the moon -- he knew he was in the dog house. WoL would barely look at him. His sun, the sole source of happiness and connection in this existence, had turned away from him. Zenos was left in the dark, in the cold, alone.

When Alisaie berates Zenos, he and the WoL are both at their lowest points. Out of orbit. Thinking they'll never entangle again, maybe.

He *is* maidenless. And he's finally at a low enough point to listen to whatever wisdom will get him what he wants more than anything, his emotionally-fueled battle that will eclipse all other experiences and burn away his life in a blaze of glory. Or, what he actually wants and doesn't know that he does: true emotional human connection with someone else.

Alisaie hands him the nugget of wisdom he needs, intentionally or not. He will never get what he wants as long as he's only thinking about himself and solely pursuing his own pleasures.

To say Zenos is smart is an understatement. As soon as this clicks, that for him to get what he wants, he needs to understand what the WoL wants (to be fair he's been on the edge of this realization at least since In From The Cold), his prodigy-level mind is already whirring.

That's how we end up at the end of the universe with WoL's ex coming in at the third act at their darkest hour to help them save the day after thinking about what he's done wrong and how he can fix their relationship. Isn't it almost a classic romance movie beat? Maybe it's just me.... 😆

If you view your wols relationship w Zenos as kind of romanticesque Alisaie basically tells Zenos that he's fucking cringe + L + he's maidenless during that one part of EW

[whatissleepeven]

Okay so imagine the brothers are offered back their divinity if they kill the MC. How would they react? (Oh or for more angst- get back Lilith in exchange for MC’s life?)

Ohohoho, is this angst hour I sense? Thank you for this ask, and I’m...sorry in advance for the heavy feelings-

(Me: Okay angst time, time to play the appropriate song

*begins playing Spiderman Pizza Delivery Theme*

Me: let’s begin)

Trigger Warnings: Panic Attack (Beel’s Prompt), PTSD Symptoms (Also Beel’s Prompt), Talk of Loss

----------------------------

Obey Me! Brothers’ Reactions To An Ultimatum

Lucifer

Well, he certainly does think about it.

No, not about the divinity...but about Lilith.

They could have her back in their lives? All for the price of one human?

This human, who has caused him nothing but grief and throws themselves head-first into danger.

If this was towards the beginning of the program, he’d be more inclined to take it-

But he doesn’t.

He can’t do that to you. Not you. You, who had repaired their broken family. You, who had seen all of their flaws and strengths and passions and fears and embraced them.

You, who continues to smile so brightly and say his name with utmost faith in him.

He lowers his arm. You look fearful, but...resigned. Like it will be fine, like it was okay if he killed you.

He hates it.

“Does your life matter to you that little?”

You smile sadly, and a small portion of him wants to scream. No no no, it cries out, this isn’t how you’re supposed to be! Your smiles aren’t supposed to be full of sorrow!

“Your sister meant-...means a lot to you. To all of you. Who am I to take that away, huh?”

He walks over to you, his steps measured. You close your eyes, waiting for the killing blow-

A weight settles on your head, giving it a few rubs. “You are worth more than you could ever know. Remember that.”

He continues to walk, heading out the door. A few tears drip from your face onto the floor.

He could care less about his divinity. If he had to choose here or the Celestial Realm, he’d much rather stay here. He knows, deep in his heart, that Lilith lived a long and successful life.

You, however, are irreplaceable.

Mammon

“H-Hey...ya gotta be kidding me.”

“Well?” You grin, holding your arms out. Your stance is peaceful, like all you’re asking for is a hug. But he knows better.

Divinity and Lilith? All for killing-...

For killing you?

He hates this. He hates the look in your eyes, hates the trust you’re showing him, and hates your bleeding heart that’s just waiting to be taken for granted. Hell, it already has been taken for granted.

“What do you think you’re doin’, playin’ the hero? Wanting to sacrifice yourself? You think that’ll make us happy?!” Tears gather in the corners of his eyes.

You lower your arms, shocked. “Wha-”

You let out a small oomph as he tackles you into a hug, pulling you close.

“You’re trembling, ya idiot.” He mumbles, and you feel something wet drip onto your shirt. He’s crying, you realize. He’s crying because this hurts him.

“Mammon...I-”

He pulls back to clamp his hands down onto your shoulders. “Save it!” He barks forcefully, making you blink. “Ya really thought I’d give all this up? For something that’s already happened? I like what we got goin’ here. My brothers like this life way better than the ones we had in the Celestial Realm. Everyone’s happier lately, and it’s ‘cause of you.”

The minute trembling that ran through your body before returns in full force, tears pooling forth as you grip his shirt. He pulls you back into the hug, and you feel safe. That’s right; he’s your number one protector, the Avatar of Greed.

How could you forget that?

He grins, reaching a hand up to ruffle your hair in a playful manner. You laugh thickly, your tears still falling. “You’re stuck with the Great Mammon, and don’tcha forget it!”

Because you are his priceless treasure. Not Lilith, not some stupid divinity...

You.

Leviathan

Leviathan has always been the outcast.

His passions, his fears, his confidence...All of those are wildly different from his brothers’. He’s not as close as Beel and Belphie are, or as Lucifer and Mammon are, or as Asmo and Satan are.

He’s the black sheep of the family.

“Y-You’re leaving it up to me...?”

You nod. Oh, how he wishes this was just a run-through of an anime script. You two would spend long hours into the night reading the lines and acting them out, repeating each scene until it was done flawlessly.

But reality is far too cruel.

“It’s your family. Your story. I’m just a side character, if you will.”

Your smile is cynical. He wants nothing more than to throw his spare Ruri-chan blanket around your shoulders and force you to marathon the entire series of “I Love My Best Friend But I Get Everything Back If I Kill Them...I Have A Choice To Make!”.

He takes a step forward. Then another. “You...Why would you do that?”

You laugh, a warm sound that serves to make his stomach knot with dread.

“Because I love you guys, why else?”

Silence. He doesn’t know what to say. What’s the right thing to do? What can he do, with his small confidence?

He’s struck with a memory, of the two of you gaming in his room. He had felt terrible due to his brothers critiquing his love for anime to the point he started to berate himself for it, and you merely patted his shoulder while telling him words he’d never forget.

“There’s things only you can do, Levi. So when you start to overthink...just feel, and let your body handle the rest.”

It’s time to take you up on your advice.

“Ghk-!” You stumble as he lunges at you, the both of you toppling to the floor. He’s crying, clinging to you like a lifeline.

“I-I could never kill the Henry to my Lord of Shadows...Every Lord of Shadows only has one Henry...!!”

Leviathan has always been the outcast. He still is, but when he’s with you he feels like he belongs.

Satan

“No.”

“...Huh.” You blink at him. You’re not sure if you heard him right. Did he just-...say “no”?

“No.” He says again, his eyes narrowing. “Please tell me you’re joking about this.”

Why? Why would you throw away your life like that? For their “happiness”? Give him a break.

“What do you think you’re accomplishing by doing this?” His voice starts quiet, growing in volume as he steps towards you. You backpedal, not expecting the angered response, which only serves to fuel his fury.

“Do you think it’d make us happy? Do you think we’d jump at the chance to sacrifice you for something that’s better long forgotten? Do you really think so little of us? Well? ANSWER ME!!”

You flinch as he gets in your personal space, only to freeze when arms wrap around you and squeeze you tight.

“I was born from Lucifer’s wrath, the only bona-fide demon among my other brothers. For a long time, all I knew was anger and hate,” he whispers, stubbornly refusing to look at your shocked gaze. “I began to read to learn more, to be able to feel other emotions. But the anger and hate stayed, concealed by the thin veil I constructed to make myself more likeable. More polite. More charming.”

He wanted nothing to do with Lucifer. He wanted it so bad it hurt. So he built himself a brand-new personality, becoming someone others could rely on, all so he could spite him.

And then you came along.

Your eyes water as you realize that you feel him shaking. “I never met her, you know, but I’ve seen her through his eyes. I feel his lingering pain, and sometimes it makes me want to tear my own chest out,” he says, voice wobbling. “But to ask you to do that...to give you up for something I have no right to feel upset about...it’s something I won’t do. Ever. Not when you saved me.”

You rest your hand on his back as you return the hug, a choked sob escaping you. “Satan, I-”

“You saved me.” He whispers fervently. “Do you understand? That means everything.”

You claw the back of his shirt, your breath hitching as you succumb to your tears. You both end up falling to the floor, hugging each other like your lives depend on it.

He doesn’t need divinity he’s never had. No, not when he has you.

Asmodeus

“Oh, love...you...”

He could go back? He could go back and get his little sister back?

But if he did, then you’d-...you’d...

“I know how much you miss being the Jewel of the Heavens.” You say, sitting next to him. It’s supposed to be a quiet night, one where you both relax and take care of each other, but then this opportunity appeared and-

He...didn’t know what to do.

- No, that was a lie. He knew exactly what to do. There was only ever one option for him.

“I’m hurt.”

You look over at him, surprised. His voice is small and he’s pouting, but there’s a tremble in his bottom lip as his eyes shine with unshed tears.

“I’m hurt, you know!” He repeats, and by now you’re pretty sure your mouth hangs open. “I’m hurt that you’d think so low of me!”

You scramble to explain. “Asmo, that’s not-”

“But it is!” He cries, interrupting you. “It’s exactly that! Did you think I would actually take that chance?!”

Your eyes soften. You go to place a hand on his shoulder, only to still when he slaps it away. “...Asmo.”

He throws himself at you, wrapping his arms around your neck as he clings to you. You don’t have the heart to throw him off, wrapping your own arms around him.

“We’ve come all this way because of you.” He murmurs against you. “And you’re the only one who loves me for me. Although, my looks are definitely a strong point-”

You chuckle weakly, feeling your own tears start to fall. He smiles once he hears you, happy to know that he lifted your mood even if it was just by a little.

“-if I gave you up, these past years would have been for nothing. So, no; I won’t do it. Besides, have you seen the following I have down here? I’m on my way to becoming the Jewel of Devildom!”

You move one hand to rest on his head, a warm smile spreading across your face. You don’t notice how he looks at your expression with awe and adoration, giving his head a few pats.

“I know you can do it.”

Well. With you by his side, he can do anything.

Beelzebub

This isn’t happening. This- This can’t be happening.

Not again...not again...!

He grasps his chest and stumbles back from you, and he hears the way you call his name with worry in your voice. You sound far away, he thinks to himself. Are you already dead? Where is he? Did he fail again? Is this the Celestial War? Maybe that’s why he smells iron, hears screaming, hears himself screaming. It’ll explain the pain at least, and he would chuckle if he wasn’t too busy gasping for air.

Ah, his heart feels like it’s on fire it hurts so bad. Is it tearing itself in two? He doesn’t know. He doesn’t know what to do...he doesn’t know who to choose-

It hurts. It hurts, it hurts, it hurts, it hurts. It hurts...!

“Beel, can you hear me? Take deep breaths. Okay? Please, breathe!”

- Huh?

He feels something on his face. What is that?

Oh, this warmth...It’s almost like-

Your name falls from his lips. You sigh in relief, sitting back.

“I’m glad you’re okay. How do you feel?”

How do you feel? You just said it was okay if he chose his angel status and Lilith over you, and you’re asking him how do you feel?

He lowers his hands, frowning at you. “...Why did you ask me?”

His voice is small. Fragile. Your heart breaks at the sound of it, tears building as you see his form shake.

“Why did you ask me, when the last time I did something I murdered my sister?”

You pat his arm, reaching a hand over to give him a side hug. “Remember what Lucifer said. She wasn’t murdered; she lived happily as a human, right up until she died of old age.”

All the more reason not to do it.

He sinks into your hold. You shoulder his weight with no complaints. “I can’t do it. You’re family; I-” he swallows past the lump in his throat, tears streaming down his face. “...I love you too much.”

Because he could care less about his angel status. Because Lilith already lived her life of peace. It still hurts, but you were the one to hold his hand when he had nightmares. You were the one who saw past his intimidating form and hung out with him.

You are important, and Beelzebub will take on the Celestial Realm himself if anything happened to you.

Belphegor

...He’s quiet.

Well, it’s to be expected. He hates humanity, and it’s his younger sister we’re talking about here, not to mention how close they were.

“So?” You ask as you lean back, the wall of the planetarium supporting your weight. “I don’t mind if you choose her and your status. It’s-”

“I could give a rat’s ass about my status as an angel.” He snaps. “Just shut up for a second and listen.”

You shut your mouth. What were you gonna say to that? An angry Belphie is not a Belphie to speak lightly with.

You jolt a bit as you feel hands lightly smack against your cheeks, smooshing your face. He tugs your head so that you’re staring at him, and it’s then that you notice how his eyes waver.

“I killed you,” he says, his brows furrowing, “I killed you. And yet you’d let me choose?”

You snort, raising a hand to cover his own. “Yep. Your move, Sleeping Beauty.”

He doesn’t understand. Why would you give him that power? He had robbed you from your family when he took your life. He temporarily washed out your future.

Did you really trust him that much...?

“It tore Beel and I apart when we learned she was dead. I-...I blamed myself.” He starts, and you don’t have the heart to stop him. Not when you already made peace with your end. “I started eating less, sleeping more. I despised Lucifer, and I despised all of humanity for taking my little sister away from me.”

You remained quiet. He lets out a frustrated huff, shaking you a bit.

“And then you came. You freed me from that place, you mended what was broken, and you-...you forgave me. And I will never betray that trust; not now, and not in the future.”

He bumps his forehead against yours, closing his eyes. You close yours as well, feeling the tears drip from your face and onto the floor. He’s...choosing you? Over everything he’s ever wanted?

What did you do to deserve someone like him in your life?

“So don’t you forget it, you idiot.”

[allisoooon]

Allison killing Harlan wasn’t a family decision though?? They didn’t vote on wether they should kill Harlan (be it by Allison’s hand or someone else’s). The vote was to turn over Harlan to the Sparrows. Some might say that’s the same thing, that Ben was just gonna kill Harlan anyway, but it’s absolutely not the same thing. When they voted to turn over Harlan, he still had his powers, he still had the option to defend himself. Given the size of his power at the moment, I doubt this went over their heads, especially Five’s. The Harlan Allison killed was not the same Harlan the family had agreed to turn over, he was just some old dude at that point (something the rest of the family never learned). Also during her fight with Viktor, Allison pretty much admitted that the only reason she killed Harlan was to hurt Viktor, she wasn’t thinking a family vote. So even if some them had judged her for it, I don’t think it was without cause. I completely agree that no one in that family is innocent, they all have blood in their hands in one way or another to varying degrees. None of them are moral beacons. I just don’t understand why we gotta find excuses for someone that’s obviously on a villain arc, it kinda negates it at that point. A lot of her actions, even if fueled by pain and grief, were malicious, selfish, and controlling. If her siblings began vilifying her at any point, it was because she was acting like a villain. That was the point.

I get what you mean. I definitely don't mean to make excuses, just give perspective. And to be clear, what I'm going to say next is not a defense of Allison's actions.

I don't think Allison is a villain. A villain has a very specific role in the story that Allison does not have. She is not set up opposed to her siblings--we only think she might be, for a bit. That doesn't mean she doesn't do villain-like things. But calling her a villain has led people to take things too far in the other direction, when she’s really an anti-hero who does some terrible shit, which is way more interesting to me.

Also, yes, it's especially shitty for her to murder Harlan while he is a helpless old man, but nobody on the team was talking about how Harlan might be able to defend himself. They were talking like this was a hard sacrifice Viktor was going to have to make for the good of the world. The thought of Harlan's survival was not on the table.

And I'm not sure if Allison would have killed Harlan if turning him over wouldn't further her goals. She wanted to do what she likely thought she should have done from the beginning, but she wanted to do it in the way that would hurt Viktor as much as possible. That's why she kills him--not because he wasn't going to die otherwise, but because he was going to die, and if her hands were the ones that did it, that would hurt Viktor far more than the Sparrows doing it. It's not exactly morally superior, but I do think it was pragmatic as well as emotional.

My point about the family wasn't that they shouldn't judge Allison at all, but that they shouldn't act innocent of the entire affair themselves. It's still scapegoating even when you're scapegoating the guilty. Buuut I'm not convinced that's what's happening anymore, since I've had discussions with other people about it.

[demonsandmischief]

You Saved My Life

Marvel - Captain America Imagine

Steve Rogers x Female Reader, 1.7k Words

-You Saved My Life-

Imagine you save Captain America's life while he is trying to save yours.

A/N: I dunno when this would take place in the Marvel world. I guess you could say it's my own AU. It's a long one but I like it. I hope you do too.

----

There are a lot of things life prepares you for, but the end of the world is not one of them.

You were covering your best friend's shift at a cafe that she owned. You had a full time job as a teacher, but the school was on a holiday, and you were always willing to help your friend. Normally, she'd have managers do the day to day runnings, but there was a scheduling conflict that lined up perfectly with your free day.

You did love the little place. It was small and home-y, nestled between some larger buildings of the city.

It was after the lunch rush when it happened. You were wiping down menus when a large blast that felt like an earthquake rattled the whole shop. The glass door shattered with the impact.

That's when the screaming started. It was loud and chaotic, as throngs of people ran away from whatever had just exploded.

The customers that were in the cafe rushed out in a panic. They could see something out of the large windows that you couldn't from behind the counter.

You moved closer, hesitantly, not sure what to expect, and you were definitely not prepared.

There were large, robotic creatures wreaking havoc in every direction. You could hear their banshee like screeches that echoed in your ears, but it couldn't be louder than the intense blood rushing as your adrenaline began to flow.

Your protective, teacher instincts kicked in when you saw the young group of kids huddled in the alleyway. They were almost out of view, but you noticed. You always noticed the children. They attracted your energy naturally.

You took notice of the daycare bus still running. It looked like the driver had just abandoned them. Intense anger only fueled the instincts.

You saw the way one of the creatures eyed the group and you scrambled to grab something to defend them.

You didn't have much. You decided on a chair, thankful for your nimble frame that was able to get outside unnoticed.

The kids caught sight of you immediately, but you held a shaky finger to your lips, telling them to be quiet.

You swung the chair with all your might, hitting the thing with a sickening crunch. It faltered for a moment, stumbling forward. You were left with pieces of broken wood, the splintered edges digging into your skin.

"Get inside," you yelled to the group, watching them scramble. At least the robot thing was focused on you, and you prayed that each little boy and each little girl made it home tonight.

You knew you were the only person standing between the cafe and the monster, and you wouldn't go with them to safety for risk of this thing following you into the shop.

Your heart thudded painfully in your chest as your eyes searched for any kind of defense. Instead, you found more creatures and no help.

This thing was ugly up close. It was metallic like a robot, but had blood red eyes, eyes that were staring right at you.

It opened it's mouth to screech into the sky, a snake like tongue curling out. It was cut off by a flash of color in the haze of dirt and debris, but you recognized it immediately. Captain America's shield.

The man himself appeared, standing tall and proud, but you could tell he was winded. You had never been so relieved, as you relaxed a bit, just wanting to melt into the ground with exhaustion.

Steve yanked out his shield, giving it an expert throw, destroying the other visible creatures.

His blue eyes stood out beneath his cowl.

"Ma'am," he nodded. "Are you hurt?" he asked.

"No," you whispered with a shake of your head, wiping your sweaty, bloody hands on your jeans. "But there's kids in there "

He nodded, repeating the information into his com device.

"We'll get them to safety, and you, too. This is no place you want to be. Every civilian has taken shelter in the metro underground. Do you know how to get there from here?"

"Yes, but it's like two blocks," you said. There was no way you could get the kids there without being noticed.

"I'll go with you then, but we need to move quickly. Let's go." He left no room for argument, so you entered the cafe to gather the huddled group.

Their fear struck you, wide eyes and silent sobs. There were probably twenty of them, all different ages. The youngest was probably about six.

"Captain America is going to get you guys somewhere safe," you told them, as reassuring as possible, even though you didn't feel that way.

You led the group as the captain guarded the back. The pace was quick, and eerily quiet. You imagined the tall man had warned the other Avengers to keep the area as clear as possible. You had caught a brief glimmer of Iron Man's metallic suit in the sky.

You had just ushered the kids down the stalled escalator and into safety when you heard a grunt of pain.

You turned to find six more of the robotic creatures surrounding Cap. You could tell he was wearing down as one of them pulled his arms back, rendering him powerless and unable to grab his shield. He kicked the things with all his might, but there were too many of them.

You didn't know what to do. You were exhausted and there was no way you could help. You couldn't even take out one by yourself with a chair.

It wasn't until one of the creatures pulled out a long dagger looking thing, already dripping with someone else's blood that you moved.

Your instincts didn't let you hesitate as you ran to tackle the thing, the knife in turn digging painfully in your upper shoulder, dangerously close to your neck.

You felt the cry leave your dry, cracked lips as you crumbled to the ground, squeezing your eyes shut.

You heard the creature snarl at you before you felt a jolt of hot pain in your ribs. It felt like a boot, but who knows.

Your vision doubled as you saw the metallic shield take out the group once more. You sagged in the rubble as the adrenaline left your body. It felt like buckets of blood were running from your shoulder down the curve of your breast, mixing with the pain in your ribs. You were certain death couldn't be much worse then this.

Steve couldn't believe you saved his life. He was foolish to let his guard down, but you were a distraction. You protected those kids with a fearlessness that reminded him of himself.

He heard over coms that Tony had found the source for these creatures and the fight was coming to a close. He wished he could have been there for his team, but the people came first, especially those kids.

He pressed a hand to your shoulder, cursing when he saw how much blood you were losing. He searched aimlessly for something to stop the blood.

"Your six, Captain," you manage to mutter throught the pain, not failing to notice the final of the robotic things sneaking up on the distracted man.

He kicked a stray car door effortlessly, squashing the creature against the brick building.

"We're going to get you help. You're going to be okay."

That was the last thing you heard before you passed out.

----

There was a pesky beeping that was disturbing your rest. You assumed it was your alarm, until the pain hit you full force, and you remembered the events that took place. Were you dead?

Your eyes opened, and you groaned at the harsh light, blinking rapidly to adjust. Your mouth felt like it was full of sand.

The sterile smell and blinding white walls immediately told you it was a hospital, but what stood out was the dozing man still dirty from battle. His blue suit stood out against the white.

His eyes opened when you stirred, and you noticed the blue eyes that you were beginning to like. His blonde hair was matted from the cowl, and he looked terribly uncomfortable in the small chair.

"How are you feeling?" he asked gently, his deep voice much softer than the commanding tone he used as captain.

You struggled to sit up. The pain in your shoulder not allowed you to use your hand as leverage, and your ribs didn't like the jostle.

"Don't do that," he said, lightly using his hand to keep you from moving. He pushed the button on the side that allowed the bed to lift without you having to change position.

He helped you drink some water before you were finally able to respond.

"How long have I been out?" you ask.

"Just a few hours," Steve responded. "You saved my life, and those kids, too." He shook his head in disbelief.

You felt your face grow hot at his words, not knowing how to respond. "I'm sure you are exhausted. You didn't have to stay."

"I had to make sure you were okay," he admitted. "I'm Steve."

"Y/N." You tried to smile at his cute pleasantries, but winced at the persistent throbbing in your shoulder. "Is it bad?"

"I'm sure a tough girl like you can handle it. The doctor should be in here in a minute to tell you details," he answered.

The doctor told you that your ribs were broken and your stab wound was deep but no longer life threatening after they stopped the blood. It was going to take a while to recover.

You dozed off, and it must have been a long time because when you awoke the second time, the room was covered in flowers. A stack of cards sat on your table, and you rose the bed again to reach for them.

A swell of happy emotions built up inside of you as you read the sweet words of the kids you saved. It was so relieving to know they were okay.

"You're a hero," Steve said from the door, this time in jeans and a blue jacket. He was handsome.

You wiped the fallen tears off of your cheek. "I'm nothing but a teacher."

"You're a hero to me," he smiled slightly, and a warm feeling bloomed in your chest.

----

Here's Pt. 2

[cacoetheswriting]

hell or high water

pairing: bucky barnes x fem!reader warnings: angst, possible tfatws spoilers, swearing, dealing with emotions / comforting, mutual pining, a lil fluff, & mentions of john walker [yes, i’m adding that as a warning] word count: 1.5k summary: unexpected, and rather devastating news, bring you and bucky together.

-

The calm before the storm - a period of unusual tranquillity and stability that often foreshadowed grave and difficult times.

The calm before the storm. That’s how you would describe what was happening during this moment, as you propped yourself up on the chair, silently observing Bucky for any sort of reaction to the breaking headline currently being shared on every single news channel.

John Walker. The new Captain America.

Bucky’s face was blank, although by now you’ve gotten to know him well enough to understand what the expression, or lack thereof, meant. He was irritated - no - he was fucking pissed. And truthfully, he had every right to be.

“I liked that what I was doing would make people feel safe. Steve Rogers was the kind of guy who could do that, he gave me hope. Even though I never met him, he feels like a brother.” John Walker’s voice sounded through the shitty speakers.

Bucky’s heart sank at the words. He smacked his lips together and exhaled.

“Hey, uhm… are you okay?” You asked in a hushed tone, eyes glued to the side of his face, nervously chewing down on your bottom lip. It was a really stupid question since you already knew the answer. Of course he wasn’t okay. Far from it, actually. In your eyes however, it was always better to check anyway. 

Especially since the man sitting on the cool ground only an arms length away from you wasn’t one to open up freely.

Bucky grunted in response, followed by a deep sigh.

“Just… peachy.” He huffed, before switching the tv off and sliding a hand down his face, wiping away any lone tears that may have escaped.

His response caused your heart to clench inside of your chest. You wanted to ease any pain the unexpected news caused him, but you weren’t exactly sure how. You felt extremely helpless, and from where you sat you could tell he was feeling the exact same - however, for different reasons.

His powerlessness was primarily fueled by anger.

And Bucky was aware the dangerous emotions circulating through his veins was undoubtedly stemming from heartbreak. Sorrow for everything he lost. Grief for the only family he had left.

Prior to meeting you, Steve was the only person that accepted him for who he was. Cherished him despite the many flaws and mistakes he’s made over the years. The only person in this whole damn universe who could easily separate him from his dark and troubled past. The only person who didn’t just see him as The Winter Soldier, a ruthless killing machine.

No.

Prior to meeting you, Steve was the only person who truly and earnestly believed Bucky was a good person.

And now Bucky had to witness Captain America being formally replaced. As if Steve Rogers was nothing. As if he meant nothing.

Which is why, as the dark-haired man stared at his own hollow reflection in the blank television screen, he was glad you entered his life when you did.

His gaze trailed to the outline of your silhouette and a small smile circled his lips. Knowing that you were here for him. Knowing that it was no longer only Steve who wholeheartedly believed he was genuine and kind… He felt better.

You could see him looking at you through the black display. You could see the miniscule smile present on his features, and you couldn’t help but return the expression.

Soon enough you were up on your feet, gracefully moving from the rather uncomfortable chair to the even more uncomfortable floor next to Bucky. You placed your head on his shoulder and his whole body instantly relaxed at your proximity, at your gentle and soothing touch. His eyes locked with yours through the monitor and you could clearly make out the gratitude, the adoration.

Yes. For a brief moment, a split second, Bucky felt better.

“I’m sorry.” You mumbled, bringing your knees closer to your chest and wrapping one arm tightly around to hold them in place. “I’m sorry this is happening. I know it’s not what you wanted, and… I know it’s now what Steve wanted.”

“Don’t apologise.” Bucky was quick to contravene.

You just shrugged, your head still resting against him. “Well, the people that made this decision, the people that should apologise most definitely won’t, and it seems like something you need to hear. A simple apology.”

He huffed lightly, once again feeling grateful he had someone like you to ground him. God, if you weren’t here… No. No. He stopped himself and shook the disturbing thoughts away. It didn’t matter. It didn’t matter because you were here, and you weren’t going anywhere.

He swallowed.

But he was. He had no other choice.

“I- uh… I need to go, y/n. I need to find Sam. I need to talk to him and get some answers.”

“I know.” You stated simply, however there was a detectable hint of sadness in the tone of your voice. Bucky picked up on it immediately and he shifted in his position, so that he was now looking down at you.

His gaze burned into the side of your skull, lip quivering as he searched his mind for what to say next because he hated this. Hated it came to this. And you hated it too.

You began to feel guilty. If you weren’t in his life, he wouldn’t have this problem. He wouldn’t have you to worry about. He wouldn’t need to explain himself. There would be nothing holding him back.

Fuck, you thought, life was just starting to get easier.

Swallowing the growing lump at the back of your throat, you mustered up enough courage to face him. The amiable look in his eyes caused the butterflies in your stomach to flutter momentarily.

“But you’ll come back.” It wasn’t a request. It was a fact. Corners of your lips twirled into a timid smile, yet all Bucky could focus on were the tears you were trying really hard to fight back.

Slowly, he nodded his head. How could he not come back? All you did these last few months was make him a little bit happier. He could only dream to one day return the favour, because as smart as Bucky Barnes was, he had no idea he already made you the happiest you’d ever been.

“I’ll come back.” He reassured.

“Alive.”

He chuckled softly before repeating, “Alive.”

Lifting your hand, you tenderly brushed your fingers down his cheek and across his jawline. It shouldn’t have come as a surprise that he leaned into your touch. It shouldn’t have, but it did. Because as you held his face in the palm of your hand while he studied every inch of yours, the uncertainty of when you would see each other again gradually settling in, you realised you’ve never been this close to one another.

You thought perhaps you should pull back, that this was a little too close for comfort, but you found yourself unable to move. Frozen. Completely captivated by the handsome man situated in front of you.

It should have felt weird, the intimacy of the moment. It should have felt weird. Why, why didn’t it feel weird? Bucky was your neighbour. He was your friend. There was nothing else to your relationship. Nothing… more.

But as you stared deeply into his eyes, taking note of the warm expression he was presenting as he continued to scan your face, the air hitched in your throat. 

It felt natural.

Bucky sensed it too. He sensed the change in the atmosphere around the two of you. Unfamiliar, yet not unwelcoming. Quite the opposite actually. It drew him in. He found himself slowly leaning in, and like a magnet, you followed suit.

When his mouth eventually slanted over yours, your heart skipped a beat.

The kiss was gentle at first, as if Bucky was indicating you could stop him at any given time, if you wanted too. It wouldn’t take much to push him away and end this now. But you didn’t want to stop him. Instead, you closed your eyes at the desirable sensation igniting every single cell in your body.

Any boundary the two of you had previously unspokenly set was crossed, broken. However, it didn’t seem to matter to either of you.

The hand previously cupping Bucky’s cheek, was now gripping at his hair. Both of his hands were now holding your waist - not applying too much pressure, but making it known that they were there.

You wanted to comment how he very rarely touched you with his metal arm, always weary that he may somehow hurt you, and now he was latched onto you in a way that suggested he would never let you go, but his tongue wound its way between your parted lips, breaking you away from your thoughts.

After what felt like a blissful eternity, you pulled away simultaneously. Equally flushed and equally breathless. Smiling at one another like a couple of love-struck idiots.

“Hmm.. We can continue this when you’re back.” You whispered against his puffed lips, before pecking them softly.

Bucky smirked. He lifted his right arm and gently brushed loose strands of your hair behind your ear. “Don’t you worry, y/n.” He began, “Come hell or high water, I’ll definitely be back.”

-

masterlist

[bookish-enneagram]

Anakin Skywalker | Sexual Type Nine | Full Profile

Basic Fear: Of loss and separation; of annihilation

Basic Desire: To maintain their inner stability and peace of mind

Superego Message: "You are good or okay as long as those around you are good or okay."

Focus of Attention: on others, on what is going on in the environment, and on avoiding conflict and achieving harmony.

Passion: Sloth

Anakin lived a life that was entirely for other people. Specifically those close to him; his mother, Obi-Wan, Padme, Chancellor Palpatine, Ashoka, and eventually Luke. Anakin was known for how much he loved and cared for these individuals, and in reality he merged with them and their needs. All Nines need to merge with something on account of their passion, which I will explain. Unlike a Self-Preservation Nine, who merges with physical comforts and routines, or a Social Nine who merges with the group, Anakin merges with specific individuals, like a classic Sexual, or One-to-One Nine.

We will start by acknowledging his greatest fear, and what drove him to the Dark Side; his fear of loss. Anakin had this fear going back to when he was a child. His mother was his whole life and, like any child, it pained him to leave her, telling her he’d come back for her. This sense of loss extended to Obi-Wan, Palpatine, Ashoka, and Padme. We see in the Revenge of the Sith novelization, which I highly recommend, how much he worries about Obi-Wan and Palpatine. With Padme, it’s much more obvious. He was willing to do anything, even monstrous things, to avoid losing her. This was a product of his disintegration to Six.

To start this section out, not all Nines disintegrating to Six will commit mass genocide and kill children. Rather this is a fictional event. However, the causes behind the action are definitely from his disintegration. At the beginning of Revenge of the Sith, he is at Level 4 of type Nine’s Levels of Development. He is accommodating to his friends and the Jedi council and somewhat lacks a will of his own, which we will discuss more later.

When he has the dream about Padme, he starts freaking out and goes into frantic action. The only way he’s okay is if she’s okay. It is unbelievably accurately stated in this excerpt by Don Richard Riso:

“At Level 4, Nines are busy accommodating themselves to the wishes and expectations of others. They put their own agendas on the “back burner” and comply with other people’s demands in order to reduce the possibility of conflicts. When circumstances cause their anxieties to increase, they may well go to Six and engage in lots of “organizational activity.” Like average Sixes, they attempt to stabilize their environment and their relationships in order to make them safer. They may get into intensive periods of work, investing their time and energy in activities they believe will enhance their security, and thus their peace of mind. These actions are guided not by positive intention, however, but by anxiety. They also begin to identify more strongly with protectors, supporters, groups, or ideas that increase their self-confidence and give them a feeling of purpose and direction.”

He works so hard to prevent Padme’s death, so far as joining the Sith, to enhance his security and peace of mind by having the power to keep her alive. It’s all guided by a sense of anxiety fueled by a fear of loss. Now, regarding his self-confidence. I believe what looked like arrogance near the end of the movie was part of his move to Six. He began to identify more with Palpatine and his beliefs and less with the Jedi. This gave him purpose and direction by giving him a sense of justification for all that was being done. As if he was doing the right thing. “The Jedi are evil”, “I’ve brought peace, freedom, justice, and security to my new empire”, and “if you’re not with me, you’re my enemy” are some examples of this self-confidence. You could say he even merged with Darth Vader.

Another extremely important thing to mention which I vaguely mentioned earlier is the Passion of the Nine. The Passion is one of the most important things in finding a person or character’s Enneagram type. For Anakin, the Passion is Sloth. This may seem odd, considering he is a human. But Sloth in this regard is an inattention to self, not the animal. Now, this plays out in various ways depending on the subtype, whether Sexual, Social, or Self-Preservation. For Anakin, a Sexual type, his attention is focused on close relationships, as I said earlier. He completely merges with those close to him and they become his focus of attention, not his own wants or needs. He does seem more willful and assertive than a classic Sexual Nine, but that is due to his Eight wing, which conflicts with the Nine in that it gives Nines with an Eight wing more of an instinctual drive, as stated below:

“Nines with an Eight-wing are more sensual and instinctive than the Nines with a One-wing, and tend to operate more on feelings and hunches. They tend to embody more the easygoing demeanor associated with Nines, but also give the impression of being more “physical,” more grounded. This is one of the most difficult subtypes to understand because the component types are in such diametrical opposition to each other.”

Darth Vader. The typing is exactly the same and I will tell you why. Nothing has changed about him. He just has no one, no purpose. He deteriorates to an extremely unhealthy Nine, specifically Level 9, and it takes him finding out about Luke to bring him back. Some lines from Riso about Level 9 Nines below:

“They disintegrate as persons into the most extreme state of dissociation from who they are. As we have seen, their receptive orientation to life has facilitated their flight from self-awareness. Now, they completely flee from themselves. In most cases, neurotic Nines unconsciously abandon themselves as whole persons, reinvesting consciousness into various fragments of themselves, each of which may represent an aspect of the self which has been repressed and denied and undeveloped. Memories, dreamlike trances, and emotional reactions seem to come and go at random. It is as though the very structure of the personality has come “unglued” or broken apart, and only its constituents remain to interact with the environment. To abandon themselves as persons, retreating into complete dissociation and fragmenting their personalities, is a “solution” of sorts, because then it is not really they who live but someone else through whom they can live. We have seen that average Nines tend to live through the other; now we see that they live through the other-self, the fragments of the self which are little more than the disconnected identifications and relationships with significant others from the Nine’s past. The core self has been so traumatized that it is as though in a dream without a dreamer. This can hardly be called living. Furthermore, because one of the subpersonalities can do harm to other people or to itself, this is neither a safe nor truly adaptive way to live. Moreover, Nines who so feared losing or separating from others have not only psychologically done so, they have also separated from and lost themselves.”

As well as:

“Unhealthy Nines with an Eight-wing are capable of violence with little concern about the consequences of their actions. Aggressions and id impulses are strong in people of this subtype, and when they are emotionally unstable, there is little ego strength left to regulate these forces.”

Basically, Vader lost who he was. It isn’t him, he’s broken and dissociated from his true self; the helpful, caring friend, mentor, and husband. His whole outlook changes when he finds out about Luke. He is given purpose again. He tries to have him join him and have them rule the galaxy as father and son. His last act is saving the son that brought him back to the light, and all of this makes him a pretty damn good character all around.

[randomingoftherandomness]

The Bone of Impurity

So with the upcoming Winner is King, my brain got whirling with the thought of The Bone of Impurity which is arguably one of the main plot points of the novel and I thought I would do a bit of a meta for it? It is definitely something I hope they do not dilute for the Live Action adaptation but even if they did touch upon 1% of the shit that goes on into making a Bone of Impurity, it's still pretty Dead Dove Don't Eat. So I thought I would preempt it by actually putting down a primer on the Bone of Impurity.

I did not read the novel in Chinese and read it in English, so some of the more subtle themes present in the original work will have been missed by me. If anyone who has read the Sha Po Lang novel as it was written by Priest, do let me know if I have made any mistakes on any of the below ( •̀ᄇ• ́)ﻭ✧

Fair warning, there's some pretty Nightmare Fuel inducing shit, so I'll be keeping things under a read more in case people get squicked by this lol I'm also basing my references around the translation that Northwest Flower did because that is the one I read.

Just a basic background on The Bone of Impurity:

It is essentially a curse unique to the Northern Man people who utilise it in moments where someone's country is broken and nothing remains but revenge. To attain that, they make a sacrifice to the 'evil' gods of their beliefs

It is a cruel and horrible affliction to put on the person, but the return for it is that the person who becomes a Bone of Impurity gains the strength, intelligence, foresight and abilities of two persons

Whoever becomes a Bone of Impurity is someone who is single-mindedly ruthless and bloodthirsty when pressed towards a goal; they will attain power and their near supernatural abilities will make them unstoppable in achieving their goals

They will also gain a sort of existence that is neither alive nor dead. Sort of a zombie-like living. They also don't live very long

For all this super abilities, the flip side for anyone living with the Bone of Impurity is that they will be constantly highly suspicious and paranoid of everyone and everything; they will be slowly driven mad by the visceral hallucinations that will leave them incapable of knowing what is real and what is fake (Volume 1, Chapter 26; Volume 3, Chapter 70)

A Bone of Impurity attack comes about when the afflicted experiences heightened emotions or moments of extreme stress (I seriously cannot list out all the times it popped up in the novel because we would be here quite long lol)

It manifests in dual pupils being observed in their blood-hued eyes, hypersensitivity of the senses, their body burning up, almost sleep paralysis levels of body-lockedness and they will experience extreme pain with the bouts of attacks lasting hours at a time (Volume 2, Chapter 50 & 51)

The method of 'refining' a Bone of Impurity is...

Basically taking two babies and putting them in a dark place with no air, no water, no food. One of the babies will survive while the other one dies (Volume 3, Chapter 70)

I'm not quite certain if they have to be blood related or not, but the examples given in the book all indicate that if they have a strong connection to each other, then it would be better and that the Bone of Impurity would better take

The dead baby is then... 'refined' with the arcane arts and medicines of the Northern Man Goddesses and fed to the surviving baby (re:baby cannibalism)

I told you it wasn't pretty...

In the novel, Chang Geng is the Bone of Impurity made by Hu Ge Er, his aunt, in order to bring about chaos and tumult to Great Liang that had subjugated her people. Chang Geng is repeatedly described to have almost scary levels of intelligence and foresight, to the point where some of the characters actually wonder if he is omnipotent.

Chang Geng is also revealed to have obtained characteristics of his cousin

One of the ways Shen Yi and Gu Yun identified Chang Geng as the missing Fourth Prince is the congenital defect of a toe - which, lol, the worlds where DNA testing did not exist - and Chang Geng insists that his toe deformity was caused Hu Ge Er (Chapter 8)

It is later revealed that this was one of the further side-effects of the Bone of Impurity where the afflicted would reflect characteristics of the 'devoured' counterpart (Extra: Souls returned home)

Now on to the meta bit:

Chang Geng has a pretty much single focus sexuality on Gu Yun; even when he wasn't clear on what the nature of those feelings were, he was already dedicated to the man, already thinking up ways of how he can support him in the future

Even when he was heartbroken by the reveal of who 'Shen Shiliu' was and the lies and the subterfuge that had flowed between them, just with an apology and assurance from Gu Yun, Chang Geng was already ready to forgive him

Now, we know that Hu Ge Er said with her dying breath that the Bone of Impurity will cause him to lose his mind and will cause the death of everyone he will ever love. I think she said this because she has already detected the level of dedication he has built for Gu Yun and also because she is a horrible person and wanted one last pot shot at tormenting Chang Geng

Through all his Bone of Impurity attacks, Chang Geng has one consistent thing that he fears the most above everything else - Gu Yun abandoning him, rejecting him, leaving him in any way

My thought is simple; what makes him different from the other Bone of Impurities that were explicitly said and described in the novel? One person. Gu Yun.

Had Gu Yun not saved him from the wolves outside of Yanhui Town, he would have definitely died right there and then being killed by the Northern Man wolves. I truly believed that at that time, Chang Geng really ran out there to die. With just the scant descriptions of what Hu Ge Er did to him throughout his childhood, even the brief glimpses into her horrible abuse, is enough to cement that he was very likely unable to handle everything anymore.

If Gu Yun had not shown up and took on the mantle of Chang Geng's Yi Fu - as clumsy and as emotionally stunted as he was to deal with a dependent - was kind to him without any sort of condition attached to it, if Gu Yun had not taken that spot in Chang Geng's heart and mind as a moral compass, guiding his path to tempering the more extreme effects of the Bone of Impurity, I have no doubt that Chang Geng would have destroyed Great Liang before he even turned 21.

Because of Gu Yun, Chang Geng plotted the way to peace for Great Liang; divesting of weak emperors and ushering in a new age of stability and peace, building a foundation for his nephew to take over and build upon. All because he knew that Gu Yun loved his country, loved the people, has broken his back time and time again to toil for peace and defend its borders.

In the novel, they even explicitly say that when Gu Yun is out doing routine inspections of the borders and stuff, Chang Geng essentially shuts down; starts living like a monk and a life without colour until Gu Yun comes back to him (I don't know which extra or chapter this is in because this post has been waaaayyyy too long at this point)

With Gu Yun, especially when he learns that his supposedly unrequited and unfilial feelings were not as unrequited as they seem, he found a path to a future where he can strive to live without pain and without worry. With Gu Yun, he could focus all of the ruthlessness and all the bloodlust and the brilliance and the horrors and make it into a fulfilment of Gu Yun's dream; to be able to walk away from the battlefield and live out the rest of his days in peace and leisure.

Think about it, especially if you have read the novel, how scary can Chang Geng get when Gu Yun isn't around to temper him?

Basically, yes, I am definitely saying that Chang Geng and Gu Yun doing the horizontal dance with no pants resulted in peace for the country lol

[Bit of Trivia] Chang Geng's name is also significant because, according to Hu Ge Er, it is the name of the 'Bone of Impurity' in the Chinese dialect (Chapter 6)

[vs-redemption]

I though of another thing lmao. I play a lot of video games too lol

But Dabi x Healer!Reader

(I was thinking of mercy from ow so reader has the ability to heal and damage boost her allies and revive them from the dead. - I would say to nerf that for the story it would depend on how long and how they died) - 🐱❤️

From Cindy:  🐱anon! I love you and miss you!! I’m sorry it took so long to get to this! I’ve been a busy bee recently and have had some writers block but I’m feeling very refreshed now! I had fun writing about our favorite burnt villain boy, and I hope you like how this turned out!  ❤️ ❤️

Partners (Dabi x GN!Reader)

Dabi was not ashamed to admit that his only reason for recruiting you into the league of villains was to use you for your quirk. It seemed like your powers had almost been designed specifically to support his goals and make up for his weaknesses. His intense blue flames caused severe damage to his body, but your healing touch could fully recover him in an instant. And anything in his path that could somehow withstand the heat of his flames would be burnt to ash instantly with a simple boost from your quirk. You were the perfect tool, and he had fully planned on capitalizing on that.

“I trust you to find people to support our cause,” Shigaraki had told him in the beginning, “but don’t you think this person is just going to be a liability in a fight?”

It was a concern he and Dabi had shared and was the biggest drawback to allowing you to join the team. You couldn’t defend yourself and would need to rely on the other villains to keep you safe whenever things got dangerous. If there was anything Dabi hated more than anything, it was pretending to care about other people. It was bad enough he had to stomach Shigaraki and the others, but at least he could trust them to hold their own in a battle. In exchange for your incredible abilities, you were going to be a constant thorn in his side. However, the pros outweighed the cons and he ultimately ended up agreeing to let you join.

At first, he thought he might’ve made a big mistake. You got along a little too well with the others, and ideally he wanted you to prioritize him over everyone else. Unfortunately, he was awful at faking interest and carrying conversations about anything that wasn’t related to himself, so building any sort of connection with you felt basically impossible. After some thought, he decided to keep his distance as much as possible unless interaction was absolutely necessary. As long as you remembered why he’d recruited you in the first place, and used your quirk the way he’d intended, he’d be satisfied.

Dabi was very familiar with rage. It was the emotion that had kept him constant company since he was a small child, and the emotion that fueled and motivated him whenever things got too painful or difficult. However, as familiar as he was with rage, he’d never learned how to control it when something triggered an outburst. So, when you refused to give his flames a boost during a particularly intense showdown with the heroes, he’d gone completely ballistic. Even without your powers, the intensity of his quirk has been magnified causing his flames to go wild. The anger had consumed him so completely that not even a direct order from Shigaraki had been able to stop him from unleashing the waves and waves of blue fire. The heat was so overbearing that both the heroes and villains had been forced to retreat.

Back at the hideout, you did your best to keep Shigaraki calm while you tended to the wounds incurred during the fight, including some nasty burns on Twice’s arms from when he’d tried to approach Dabi and reason with him. The fire wielder in question had not returned to the base with the others, choosing to continue on the warpath until someone managed to stop him or he wore himself out. He was surprised when it was you who came back out a few hours later to retrieve him from the dark alley way he’d hidden himself away in. Despite his exhaustion and the excruciating pain all over his entire body, he went right back on the defensive as soon as he saw your face.

“You must have a death wish!” His says through a grimace. A ball of fire appears in his hand threatening, but you could see the steam coming off of his skin from how much he’d overused his quirk already.

“From where I’m standing, I’d say it’s you with the death wish,” you frown. “How much longer do you think your body can hold out if you continue like this?”

“That’s none of your business!” Dabi snaps and takes a shaking step forward. “I only allowed you to join our cause so that you could support us in fights.”

“And I will lend you my support when it is beneficial to the cause,” you fold your arms and fix him with a hard glare. “The league needs you. But look at how your raw power affects your body on its own. If I boosted your quirk, you’d be a pile of ash and bones in an instant.”

“That’s not your call to make,” Dabi growls before his flame sputters out and he stumbles forward. You put your arms out instinctively to catch him, but the heat coming from his skin is painful to the touch. You help him to the ground as gently as you can and carefully start to heal his wounds. Thankfully he doesn’t protest.

“It is my call to make if it affects me,” you argue as you hover your hands over his skin. “My quirk has limits just like anybody else’s. Do you really expect me to help you destroy yourself knowing it’s going to be my responsibility to fix you again afterwards?”

Dabi hoped that was a hypothetical question. What he expected was for you to do whatever he asked, whether it put physical strain on you or not. He did understand your thought process though. His quirk was both a blessing and a curse, and the level of his power was closely tied to the intensity of his emotions. It was definitely possible that a boost to his flames could push him a little too far.

“You know,” you plop down next to him on the dirty ground once you finish doing what you can for his burns, tired from exerting yourself more than usual that day. “Maybe instead of testing the limits of your mortality, you could just try relying on your allies instead.” You glance over at him to see a scowl take over his features, and when he finally turns to meet your gaze you simply smile. “Even if you only put your trust in one single person, you might find that accomplishing your goals becomes far easier. I’m sure you’re not the only one in our group with ulterior motives, so working with someone rather than against could be mutually beneficial.”

Trust was not something Dabi had much experience with. He wasn’t sure he could trust another person, and it probably wasn’t safe for other people to trust him either. Still though, an under the table partnership might not be a bad idea, and was part of his original plan for you anyway. He wasn’t a fan of compromises, and you didn’t seem like the type to be easily bullied into compliance, but having someone working with him specifically rather than indirectly through Shigaraki might prove useful. And if things didn’t work out, he could always ditch you later. Or perhaps you were even more perfectly matched with him than he originally thought. In which case, it might be possible for him to learn how to do that pesky ‘trust’ thing. Only time would tell.

[venushasvixens]

Ch. 6 Confliction - Life is but a Dream (Spike Spiegel x Reader)

[A/N] I really want to give a huge, huge thank you to @tebdundy on tumblr for editing and dealing with my constant check ups and stuff, you are so amazing for helping me. It means a whole lot. You can find more of me on instragram, wattpad, and AO3 (under the same username). Okay, onto the chapter!

WARNING: a lot of angst, rejection

Your ship was on fire. Every belonging, every single thing you had worked so hard for was gone. Your guns, clothes, even appliances you had never given a second thought, gone. And it hit you like a shot. The moment you took in that your ship was on fire, you shut down. Your mind began to wander. What did I do to deserve this? Why is this happening to me?

The next thing you could remember was Spike shaking your shoulders to snap you back to reality. You struggled to form a response. You tried to open your mouth, give some indication that you could feel and see him. In reality, the only thing you could really feel was a dull ache in your spine, each vertebrae mounting with an odd, uncomfortable pain.

The shock was setting in.

You blinked, eyes glassy as you watched firefighters put your ship out of her misery. There was no noise. You couldn't feel your fingertips, your face. You couldn't feel anything. Just that dull ache creeping up your spine.

Thoughts spiraled through your aching head, moving so quickly you could hardly keep up. It felt like you were at war with yourself, trying to keep yourself conscious and cognizant of the situation, while you sank deeper and deeper into your head.

This is just a small hiccup.

Just an obstacle that needed to be conquered, a hurdle you needed to jump over.

This is all your fault, you’ll never bounce back.

Everything happens for a reason, right?

Maybe if you hadn’t been so stupid.

You always ruin everything for yourself.

You might as well give up now.

There’s no coming back from this one.

You’re a disappointment.

You’ve failed.

It ate you up like a starving monster devouring a poor soul who crossed its path. Dark tendrils of shame, anger, and sadness weaved into your head, wrapping around your mind and tightening with every passing second. You were going to drown.

Push it down. Push it down. Grieve later. Think now. Grieve later. Think now.

You needed to figure out what you were going to do next. You needed to get out of your head. You desperately tried to claw your way out of this state. Taking a deep breath, you tried to make sense of the chaos around you.

You were sitting on the ground, a blanket draped over your shoulders. You felt the cold stone of the dock under your legs, felt the itchiness of the thick wool wrapped around you. You watched as Jet ran over to Spike, shouting over the sounds of panic that had flooded your head just moments before. Spike was staring at you, his face riddled with concern. You heard him call your name. You didn’t respond.

It was usually so hard to read him, to figure out what he was feeling. But now, it was so incredibly clear. You saw the emotions flashing in his eyes as he called for you again. Loss, guilt, despair, mania, heartbreak.

You felt Jet’s strong hand on your shoulder, shaking it gently.

"Hey kid, you okay?" He said, his brows furrowed.

You swallowed. Do not cry. Do not cry. Wait until you're alone. Push it down.

"I think...I think— a glass of water."

-

"How much do you have?"

"About 200,000 woolong."

"Well, that ain't much."

"Well, I wasn’t expecting to lose everything I own."

You sipped your coffee slowly as you, Spike and Jet discussed a solution to your giant, unavoidable problem. No matter how much you told them that you were okay and could take care of yourself, they insisted on helping you. Deep down, you appreciated it, because you definitely weren’t okay and wouldn’t be able to take care of yourself, no matter how much you tried to convince yourself.

You picked at the eggs on your plate, imagining sleeping in your own bed right now. Wearing your favorite shirt. Eating breakfast in your small kitchen. Watching the morning news in your room. Maybe have someone with you, showing him everything you owned like an excited child because you were so proud of how far you came from your first bounty to now. Things you’ll never be able to do again.

You felt silly and materialistic, mourning the loss of your belongings. But when you worked so hard for something you wanted for so long, building it up over the years, and losing it all in seconds? It's very hard to not mourn.

You had tried to pack light, to not become attached to material possessions. That was one of the first things that you were told by other bounty hunters. When you had first considered entering this god-forsaken profession, you sought out the help of any bounty hunter you came across, trying to glean any useful knowledge from those more experienced than you. You got too comfortable and started to ignore that piece of advice, and now you’re crying over some clothes and dishes.

But your keepsakes, your souvenirs. Ties to your troubled past. Memories of old friends, places, and happy times. Gone, burnt to a crisp.

"How much is a night stay here in town?" You spoke up, interrupting Spike and Jet’s bickering.

"You don't even want to know. The further you go into the city, the worse the rates are. I looked at a couple of places, and it does not look good." Jet replied, taking a sip from his mug.

"And staying on the streets isn't too good either," Spike muttered.

"Wasn't planning on it, but thanks for the advice." You snapped back.

The tension was thick in the air between you and Spike. Maybe it was because of your interrupted intimacy from the previous night, or the fact that neither of you had slept for the past 24 hours. But you couldn't understand why he was taking his frustration out on you. You hadn’t planned for your ship to burn to ash. You didn’t want to be a burden.

"I have a suggestion. Well, more of a proposal." Jet said.

You perked up. "And what's that?" Even before Jet could say anything, you already felt guilty about it.

"You can stay with us on the Bebop until you find your feet again."

You breathed a sigh of relief.

"Do what now?!" Spike hissed softly.

"But, "Jet held up his hand to Spike, who sighed loudly, annoyed. "I have a few conditions."

It kind of pissed you off how Spike was reacting to all of this. Actually, kind of was an understatement. It really pissed you off, almost offended you on how he was acting. Just a few hours ago, he was desperate to get into your pants, and now he was throwing a hissy fit at the thought of you living on the Bebop. Isn't this a good thing, you being able to spend more time together?

"Just contribute to the Bebop. Whenever you cash in a bounty, set some aside for fuel, food, all that good jazz. Maybe cook dinner sometimes, or clean the bathroom. Other than that, don’t worry about it." Jet said.

A cloud of suspicion settled across your thoughts.

"That's it?" You asked, “Are you sure?”

Jet chuckled. “There’re other rules, but you’ve got a good head on your shoulders. I have a feeling you know how to respect other people’s spaces and belongings. Just don’t do anything stupid.”

You glanced at Spike, who was leaning back, staring out the window. He met your gaze, eyes unreadable once again. He closed his eyes and shook his head. He felt like an entirely new person, one who just wanted you to piss off and leave him to his business. You tried to shrug off his sudden coldness, but it bothered you. It stung.

-

The walk back to the Bebop wasn't too bad, but trying to initiate a conversation with Spike was difficult. All he did was grunt in response, a few "oh yeah”s and “huh”s thrown in for good measure. You hoped it was because he was tired, and not that he was pissed off that you were going to be invading his space.

The guilt was heavy on your shoulders. You certainly weren’t a freeloader, but you couldn't help but feel like you had already overstayed your welcome. And you haven’t even stepped foot on the ship yet. You didn't want Spike to be distant from you. Even though you had just met him, you wanted him to be closer to you than anyone else. You wanted to reach out to him, hold onto him and never let him go. Instead, he was pushing you away.

You weren’t good with rejection. Rejection defined who you were today and had been a driving factor to almost everything in your life. You had managed to take ahold of those haunting feelings and build them into a hard shell to protect yourself, vowing to never show your vulnerability or true feelings. You had pushed the old version of you so deep down that it would never escape. You had been doing so well, but the last few days had shown you that the hard work you put into being a completely emotionless bitch was all for nothing.

Jet was going into an extensive explanation of the ship, where you could take a shower, where your room was. He explained that the Bebop was once a fishing ship from Ganymede, and how he had fixed it up to be a high-tech, fully functional ship of today (his words, not yours).

"She operates well when treated right. However, some of our crew members would say otherwise." Jet grumbled. "Speaking of, did Faye tell you-"

"I haven't seen Faye since two days ago. Her ship was still gone, the last I saw." Spike muttered, throwing his jacket over his shoulder. "Besides, why do you care?"

Jet held up his hands. "It was just a question. Jeez." Spike muttered something in response.

You suddenly remembered the bounty on Faye’s head, but it didn’t really matter right now. That was all on the back burner for now, seeing as every plan you could think of required a ship that wasn’t the one Faye was living on. And you really didn't want to make enemies of your new crew this early on. All you cared about right now was taking a shower to wash all of last night's events off you and getting some shut-eye.

You wondered whether Jet was aware of your previous intentions of collecting the big bounty on Faye. You had asked him if Faye was joining the group for dinner last night, with no context. There was no answer, but that also could mean he took in what you said and was processing what you really intended to do if Faye did show up at the dinner. Remembering your first meeting with Spike, he told you clearly he doesn't care if she got captured or not. So you have two people who are on opposite ends of the discussion. One is in charge of the Bebop and which bounties to pursue, and the other one likes to smoke and philosophize.

The obvious correct choice was clear, but you decide to choose the latter.

"When you come in, don't be too surprised by some of our unique characters." Jet remarked. "You've already met us two, but there are a few more along the way."

"I like to think I'm also a unique character, so we should get along." You replied happily, a tint of exhaustion underlying in your words. Spike scoffed, walking over to open the small hatch.

"What's that supposed to mean?" You snapped, a full night's worth of frustration threatening to overflow in the form of obscenities and insults.

"Are you talking to me?" Spike said over his shoulder, punching in the security numbers on the small pad. The hatch to the side of the Bebop creaked open, landing on the stone pier with a hard thunk. "I’m tired. And when I’m tired, I don’t put my energy into pulling punches and being nice.Got it, (Y/N)?"

You bit down on your tongue. "Never mind. What were you saying, Jet?"

You could hear a quiet, "Yeah that's what I thought." echoing up into the Bebop. Rolling it off your shoulders, you turned your focus to Jet as you both walked into the ship.

Opening a round metal door, you looked up to see a dimming bulb illuminating the cylinder passage. The walls were yellowing, patched with dark, aging metal, and littered with hazard signs. Jet walked over to a ladder bolted on the wall and began to climb.

"I'll tell you, you’ll get a real workout just getting around this ship." Jet laughed, his voice bouncing off the walls.

"Are there a lot of these around the ship?" You said, following.

"Oh yeah, plenty. But if you stay in the living area, you don’t really need to worry about them. I'll show you around anyway, just in case we need you to get something. We wouldn’t want you to get lost." Jet smiled.

He hopped into the center gravity passage, holding out his hand to you. You grabbed it gratefully, not realizing how much of a drop it was to the floor of the tube until you looked back down.

"Oh damn." You exclaimed, looking down. "That's pretty far."

"It’s just 15 feet. Your eyes must be playing tricks on you." Jet chuckled, closing the metal door. "Alright, so this is the lower gravity passage. It leads to the living area, that includes bedrooms, kitchen and living room, and to the storage area."

Spike was nowhere to be seen in the passage. You assumed he was already in the living room, smoking before heading off to bed. Jet opened a sliding metal door marked “Storage”. You peered into the dark room.

"This is where we keep extra ammunition, supplies, and medical boxes.”

Jet pressed a button next to the storage door, one that opened to the living area. The walls were a gradient blue color, illuminated with warm lighting. The staircase was a dark, metallic gold leading to a dark blue platform. On the floor was a yellow couch, and across from it was a single matching seat. In between them sat a knee-level coffee table with a holoTV, a computer, and someone's breakfast. Jet walked in first, stepping down. "This is the living room.” He pointed to the set on top of the table. “You’re welcome to use the holoTV and the computer, everybody shares them.” He chuckled. “I’m not sure whose breakfast that is, but don’t touch it. People are pretty possessive of food on this ship.”

Right as you took a step in, you heard the light pattering of paws bouncing into the living room. From a staircase leading down, two small light brown ears popped up. Then two big brown eyes peered over, searching for the source of commotion in the room.

"You guys have a dog?!" You asked, practically jumping down the stairs. The small Welsh corgi was seemingly just as excited as you were, running and tripping up the stairs to meet you. You extended your hand, letting him sniff you.

Jet chuckled. "Cute little thing, isn't he? His name is Ein."

"Oh, he's adorable. Who’s a good boy?" You cooed, bending down to rub Ein's ears. He stretched his head out, his little stumpy tail going a hundred miles a minute.

"And usually tagging along with Ein is-" Jet was interrupted by the pounding footsteps coming from downstairs.

"They're back, they're back, they're back!" a scrawny red-headed kid rejoiced, waving their arms about. "Ed was worried, but now Jet’s back, and Ed is okay again!"

The kid's smile stretched from ear to ear, clearly more than ecstatic to see Jet back home. They grabbed the plate from on top of the table and plopped down next to a box with a computer on top. They gobbled up what was left of their food, before bending their head back to get a look at you. "Who are you?"

"This is (Y/N), they're going to be staying on the Bebop for a little bit." Jet replied, walking over to the table. He turned back to you. "Ed is a computer genius and a damn good hacker. You ever need someone to work out some malicious malware, Ed’s your girl."

“Hi, it's nice to meet you." You said, giving Ed a small smile and a wave. She scampered over to you on all fours with her behind high in the air, chattering to herself.

“Stranger, changer, danger! Hihi...”

You laughed nervously, glancing back at Jet, who was standing with his arms crossed, looking amused. The girl stopped at your feet. “Edward Wong Hau Pepelu Tivrusky the Fourth,” she said matter of factly. Ed grabbed your hand and sniffed. You had met some oddballs in your time, but this one took the cake. She made a face and jumped back, her hands covering her nose and mouth. "Ed thinks you stink!"

You sucked in air between your teeth. Did you really smell that bad, or was it another talent of this child prodigy? That’s so embarrassing. "Is it that noticeable?"

Jet half-smiled. "Doesn't bother me none. Thought I wouldn’t mention it till you could do somethin about it."

He was just going to let you find out later? No wonder Spike didn't want to be anywhere near you. It wasn’t even your first day of being on the Bebop, and you were not making a great first impression.

"Let me show you the kitchen." Jet motioned for you to follow up a small set of stairs through a large circular door frame leading down a small hallway. You turned into the kitchen, completed with a fridge, stove, oven, and a small countertop. The kitchen was dark, the only light in the room was the dimming orange ashes of Spike's cigarette falling on the floor. He was leaning against the countertop, staring down at his cig.

"There you are, Spike." Jet flipped the lights on, revealing a slightly disorderly kitchen. Spike winced, covering his eyes.

"Jesus, Jet give me a warning next time," Spike mumbled, his voice deep and raspy. Your annoyance and anger at him suddenly disappeared. That voice. You wanted to hear that voice again. You wanted to put your hand on his chest and feel the vibrations of that voice. Every time you tried to find some way to be mad at him again, he just had to stand there, looking cool and intoxicatingly seductive. You craved him like an alcoholic craved whiskey.

"Are you finished with the grand tour?" Spike asked, his heavy-lidded eyes looking away from you and Jet.

"Not yet, but I was hoping you could finish it."

"I’m not in the mood for hospitality right now. I'm going to bed." Spike said, making his way to the door.

"Just show her on the way there. And be nice, she's our guest." Jet warned, sorting the dirty dishes in the kitchen sink.

"Yeah, show me some respect." You teased. But Spike clearly was not in the mood. Instead, he turned away from you, rolling his eyes, and walked out of the kitchen

Jet patted you on the back. "Give him a minute, he'll come around."

"Thank you for everything, Jet. It means a lot." You smiled.

"Don't sweat it, kid. Go ahead and get some rest. If anything comes up, I'll send the cavalry after you." He said, gesturing to the living room.

You took a deep breath before heading out of the kitchen. Ed was sitting motionless in a trance-like state, her eyes engulfed with giant goggles. Ein lay peacefully on the couch, watching as you followed Spike down the steps into the living room.

This was the first time you and Spike had been alone since last night. Just hours ago, you were definitely not afraid to touch him. Now, you didn't even want to take a step near him.

"Are you coming or what?" Spike called out impatiently, already halfway downstairs to the lower part of the living area. "I don't have all day."

"I'm here." You raced over, gliding your hand down the rail. Spike continued his way down, turning around a corner. The walk down the hallway was quiet, the silence uncomfortable. Neither of you wanted to do small talk. Spike probably didn’t want to talk at all, but you had to know. You had to ask him.

"Spike?” you asked quietly. You wrung your fingers around each other anxiously. Spike stayed silent, his quick pace faltering before coming to a stop in front of a door.

“Do you remember what happened last night?” You finally asked. Spike seemed to tense up, his jaw clenching. Deciding to press on further, you continued.

“I umm,” you mumbled, “I may have been drunk and you probably were too, but why are you so cold to me now when we were literally about f-“

“This is the bathroom. It has a tub and a shower.” Spike interrupted. Your heart dropped to your stomach. So much for answers. “There should be some clean towels. You can wash your clothes upstairs, Jet can show you where the washer is. Your room’s gonna be the first door you see when you reach the top of the stairs. It’ll be all yours till you leave.”

Spike puffed out a cloud of smoke before making his way slowly down the hallway. You looked at him in disbelief. He definitely remembers. And he’s rejecting it. You and him. Cutting it off before it starts, pushing you away.

You stepped into the bathroom, letting the door shut behind you before tears of anger and resentment started to fall down your face. How can you feel so much emotion for someone who shows none? You lost your home and belongings. You didn’t want to lose anything else.

-

After a long hot shower, you stood in front of the mirror, combing your fingers through your hair. You were going to have to get essentials eventually, a comb and a toothbrush would be nice. But that would have to wait. You rubbed circles on your temple, your impending exhaustion headache approaching fast.

After drying yourself off, you slipped your old clothes back on. It felt awful putting dirty clothes on your clean body, but you were not about to walk around the ship in a towel. You had already dug yourself a deep enough hole with Spike, you didn’t want to traumatize Jet, the kid, or the dog.

As you wrapped your hair in a towel, you heard shouting from outside. You combed through who it could be. Spike and Jet. Or Jet and Ed. Or Spike and Ein, or Ein and Ed. There were quite a few combinations.

“First fight on the Bebop.” You muttered to yourself. “So excited.”

This was so ridiculous, you couldn’t help but giggle to yourself. All you had to do was walk past and not get involved. Unless it was about you, then you would at least try to defend yourself. You opened the door, listening intently.

“What the fuck-“ more shouting. “And you bastards decide to tell me now?!” A shrill female voice was yelling. A table got knocked over. You could hear stomping and more shouting. “Well, where the hell are they?!”

Whoop, time to hide.

You shut the door and the latch clicked with a loud cathunk. You hoped they hadn’t heard it. You were down a big hallway, there was no way that they could’ve heard it. You had a pretty good idea of who the screaming was coming from, and you were not ready to meet her right now.

The sounds of stomping grew louder, getting closer to the bathroom door. Your fight-or-flight mode started to set in. With how pissed she sounded, stomping and roaring, this may as well be a life-or-death situation.

You rolled your neck, stretching your arms out. If you needed to defend yourself, you were going to have to do it bare-knuckled. No guns, knives, bars of soap, nothing. You flexed your hands, cracking your knuckles. You planted yourself in front of the door. The footsteps outside stopped. This was it! You were ready for anything.

Bam!

The door slid open. Faye Valentine stood on the other side, hands on her hips. She was panting from her ranting and raving in the other room. She smiled, her eyes a little too wide. You couldn’t tell if she was happy, crazy, or surprised.

“Hi there, you must be our newest crew member! My name is Faye, it’s so nice to meet you, girly!” She beamed, her eyes manic.

Not the response you were expecting. “It’s nice to meet you too, I’m (Y/N).” You held out your hand. She took it, her soft palms gripping your hand a little bit too tight. She shook your hand. She kept shaking. And shaking. You pulled back, trying your best to put on a friendly face.

“Sorry if I’m hogging the bathroom, there was an accident last night and I was so dirty, I just had to have a shower.” You smiled, stepping to the side.

“Oh no! You’re totally fine. I was just looking for the toilet, I guess I got lost.” She replied, waving her hand.

“The toilet’s just across the hall from your room, how long have you been here-“ Jet was cut off by Faye’s elbow jabbing him in the ribs. Jet grabbed his side in pain, giving you a half-smile.

“Well, I’d love to chat, but I’m really tired. I’m going to go get some sleep.” You smiled apologetically and gestured to the stairs.

Jet and Faye’s voices mingled with each other, overlapping into a confusing symphony of hospitality and kindness.

“Yeah, no worries!”

“Call us if you need anything!”

“We’ll be right here!”

Smiling, you gave a small wave, turned around, and basically sprinted down the hallway to the living room. You heard Faye hiss, “You didn’t tell me she was a girl, dumbass.”

“I was going to before you blew up at me. If you had let me finish, I would’ve. Why are you so pissed off about another crew member, anyway?”

“I’m tired of all the men on this ship, I didn’t want another one. And I thought they were going to take my room...”

Their bickering trailed off as you climbed up the two sets of stairs to your new room. Ed was still on the floor with her goggles on, humming to herself, seemingly oblivious to the fight that had just happened. Ein cautiously sniffed the overturned table, before settling onto the floor next to Ed, resting his head on her lap. You would’ve said goodnight, but they seemed to be in their own little world and you were happy to let them stay like that.

When you reached the top of the stairs, you saw two doors directly across from each other, one on each side of the landing. Spike had said it was “the first door you’d see”, but that wasn’t particularly helpful in this situation. Hoping you were correct, you quietly walked over to the door to your left, pressing the button to open it.

Your breath hitched as the door opened to see Spike fast asleep in his bed. He snored lightly, sleeping so deeply he didn’t hear the hiss and clink of the door opening. His arms were behind his head and the steady rise and fall of his bare chest was hypnotic. Even asleep he was really, really attractive. You fumbled over yourself trying to shut the door. It finally latched, and you let out a breath.

Sighing, you turned towards the door behind you. This one had to be it. You opened it to see a small, sparse room. Closing the door behind you, you flipped on the light. Pushed up against the far wall was a simple bed, and to your right was a small desk built into the wall with an old armchair next to it. There was a closet in the far corner, but the door was locked and some large boxes were stacked in front of it. They must not get many guests, it seemed like this room was mainly used for storage.

Feeling the ache of exhaustion overtaking your body, you flopped onto the bed. It was surprisingly soft, with a pillow and tan comforter neatly folded on top. You didn’t know how to thank Jet for being so kind and accommodating. Next time you cashed in a big bounty, you were going to set aside some woolongs to buy him a thank you gift.

On top of the pillow, you noticed a pair of black shorts and a yellow button-up. Pinned to the shirt was a note, clearly written in a hurry.

Some clean clothes. You smell like shit.

-S

You laughed. He’s straight-talking, that’s for sure. You slipped on the shorts and buttoned the shirt halfway up. Spreading out the comforter, you crawled underneath. You were already half-asleep, and thinking about how breathtakingly attractive Spike looked asleep relaxed you even more. Your mental snapshot of your accidental encounter was glued to your eyelids. It was never going to happen again, but you got to have one taste of beauty while here.

You gently wrapped your arms around your pillow, thoughts of Spike disappearing into clouds of empty dreams. It was so much better to fall asleep to thinking of someone, rather than no one at all.

And even though it was going to hurt, you would do it again and again.

-

[A/N] all I got to say is fasten your seatbelts for the next chapter, slut puppies.

[whiskehorange]

I was at work all day and almost missed the notif that requests were open! I’d like to request head cannons for Ellen Ripley, Will Graham, the Looksee, Danny Torrence, Candyman, Tiffany Valentine, Sidney Prescott, Emily Prentiss, David Rossi, Spencer Reid, Olivia Benson, and Elliot Stabler with a writer S/O that uses their experiences/lives as inspiration? Sorry it’s a bit of a mixed bag of folks lol, thank you!!

So, tumblr only allows 10 images per post, so please forgive me for combining two sets of characters together! ALSO: Danny is completely based off of his character from the book! So if it doesn’t line up with the movie I’m sorry but also fuck them for changing his character

Ellen

Ellen is all for you writing about what you’ve been through and experienced. It makes for a much more personal story and means so much more to not only you but people who can relate to what you’ve finished. She’s more than happy to help you in writing or editing, even giving you her own experiences if you’d like to get a bit of outsider information. God knows she’s got a lot of stories to fuel your imagination for a while.

Will

Will loves seeing you have something that puts you at ease at the end of the day, even if it’s talking or taking notes about your day. Being able to sit with you and give your drafts a read is something he looks forward to doing at the end of the day, too. As much as he’d love to take you out and give you the chance to have new, and maybe better, experiences with him, he doesn’t want to barge in on your life and put himself into something so personal for you. Little does he know, you look forward into starting a new chapter, literally, with him.

Danny

He can’t lie, the first time he really caught wind of you being a writer, he was a bit nervous. He felt like he just really couldn’t get away from his past, but once you answer his numerous questions about how you feel about writing, what you write about, when you do it, he feels much more at ease. You manage to convince him that it can be pretty therapeutic, for you at least, and fun! Danny isn’t too sure he wants to open those boxes and put them on paper just yet, but he’ll look forward to the upcoming sober chapters of his life with you.

The Look-see

In all honesty, he could watch you write and jot down your outlines just about all day. It’s one of the reasons he didn’t kill you in the first place. You were able to get over your grief by writing down your past experiences and pain all into one collective narrative. Why don’t more people do that? Well, he still wants to get his kills in but... still. Maybe he can feed off of grief with paper, he’ll read it somehow. Use echolocation so the sound bounces off of the led on the paper, I don’t fucking know.

Candyman

Writing is sure a pure form of art, Daniel can respect that. Of course, that means that he is more than willing to be your proofreader and editor after you’ve been working just about all day. It brings him joy to discover so much about you and your past, even if some of them aren’t too good. Everyone’s got a little baggage to them, but he’s willing to be there to help you carry it. He can be there to help you write it, too!

Tiffany

Tiffany thinks it’s so badass! I mean, shit, why didn’t she think of that? She’d have one fucked up book, but it’d be funny to her. Tiff loves to read your stuff like it’s an action novel, asking you loads of questions about certain events that actually happened. So you actually based this piece off of getting trampled by a camel? Get the fuck outta here..... please tell her more she’s begging, she’s never seen a real camel. Are they real? Just tell her your story from day 1.

Sidney

There’s been too many mock books and false narratives about her story already, so she hasn’t really bothered to put her real story out there. But she’s glad to see that your stories and writings are much more tame and enjoyable to read than a halloween-brand killer chasing her that ended up being her boyfriend and his best friend. She’d much rather read about your first encounter with water. Almost drowning, but still pretty funny for the both of you.

Emily & Spencer

Emily is all for you writing to get your emotions out, even if you do it for fun! She writes just a little bit in her spare time, or even when she’s on the plane, but insists on you sending her copies of what you’ve wrote so far for her to read. If you write on your computer that’s even better, you can just send them to her like that. Every time she reads something by you she can’t help but smile, no matter what it’s about.

Spencer loves to read your work! He thinks it’s a good ideas too, there can be a lot of benefits to writing memories and emotions down on paper, or a doc. He’s more than happy to edit your writings if you ask, but you’ll probably find little pen corrections here and there on whatever you’ve given to him to pick through. Even talking about it with you at the end of the day is fine with him.

Rossi

David writes, so he knows just how your brain functions one somedays. Don’t even get him started on writers block, but it’s different for him to see someone writing just based on their experiences, and then turning it into it’s own story. It’s more interesting than an autobiography, but more personal than a fictional piece. You can definitely find him at the end of the day sifting through your notes and finished pieces, even the ones you didn’t want him to read yet while you’re asleep.

Olivia & Elliot

Olivia strongly advocates for you to continue this sort of writing. She’s seen and read tons of books based on traumatic experiences, but this is a good refresher, and she gets to read it in the making. Her favorite part of your process is hearing you talk out loud to yourself when writing. Your though process says a lot to her.

Elliot, while advocating for this type of writing as well, is definitely more of a snoop than anything else. Of course, you’re okay with him reading what you’ve got, making piles of finished and WIPs that you’d rather him wait to see. But do you really think that’s gonna stop him from looking through those when you’re asleep or away? No. He just feel better knowing just about everything about you to make sure he’s doing things right.

[oigimi]

. on my own .

. arthur x mc . 1.4k words . first person, angst .

. this is definitely a sadder piece i’ve written but i hope you enjoy it anyway! i might make a part 2 to this depending on how my feelings about it grow so please tell me if i should make one! .

After Arthur and I had a silent walk home one evening, hand in hand, I couldn’t help but experience some thoughts and emotions that I’d never thought I would experience before. Something was starting to form within me, born of the sweet smiles he gave me and the security he provided when he held my hand. A part of me wished that he didn’t wear those leather gloves so that I could have felt his warmth in its entirety when we walked home, and that was never a wish I would ever think I’d make. I said goodbye to Arthur and went back up into my room to change, and found myself completely hollow in the chest when I realized he wasn’t there next to me.

How badly can a human want to be with another? Aren’t there limits to the emotions we can feel? Surely if someone felt too much love or sorrow they’d burst on the spot. There’s a reason we’re so good at controlling ourselves most of the time, but tonight was just different. I wanted to stare out the windowsill. I wanted to bawl without reason. I wanted to fall asleep and wake up again in a world where no one belonged in Arthur’s arms but me.

But in my mind… that was the world I was in. It was true. No one should be in his arms but me. I knew he was going back to the pub the next night, and I probably wouldn’t see him until the following morning, and it just made my body lose its self-control when I thought of Arthur with other women in his arms. It was miserable, and made me want to run to wherever he was and demand that I be a permanent part of life, if only he’d let me. Such thoughts were foreign to me, until that evening we’d come home from our walk.

I looked down at the music box he’d so kindly gifted to me. It played a beautiful melody to accompany its careful craftsmanship, and turning it on was like activating a machine that made all of my woes vanish. Oh, how I wanted to give him something that made his heart spin the way his gift had made mine. But truthfully, I didn’t even know if his heart was capable of spinning. Someone as wonderful and charming as Arthur had to have met someone that could make him dizzy with wonder by now. And if he hadn’t, was there really any hope? And did I even deserve to have fantasies like these?

I had to step out. I had to get some fresh air else the scent of the candle in my room would put me to sleep. It was almost midnight, so I suppose I really should have been sleeping. But I just couldn’t bring myself to. I had to do some thinking before I closed the book. I changed back into my standard clothes and tried to make a run for the outside. It wasn’t too cold out and the moonlight was rather clear, perfect conditions for a nice long session of thought.

To my surprise, the gate opened without issue. I snuck out, only alerting Sebastian’s little lamb, Lotte, in her pen. She gave a weak bleat or two, as if warning me not to go, but I shook my head and kept going. What do lambs know about love? And what did Lotte know about pain? Next to nothing, I presumed, so I banished all thoughts of the lamb as I made my way down the streets. As I got further from the mansion, I felt myself almost becoming disconnected from the rest of the world. Arthur was getting further and further behind me, and my sense of being seemed to be going with him.

How fun it is to be on your own and play in the sandbox that is reality. Like an astronaut disconnected from his ship, you’re completely above the world laid out for you. The world is as magical and fantastical as you make it. And boy, was I an expert at making believe.

As I marched forward, I felt a hand in my own. A warm, ungloved hand that ignited the flame in my heart that didn’t need any fuel. Not even looking up, I broke out into a smile. “Arthur… You came along with me.”

“Of course I did.” He raised my hand to his lips and planted a sweet, gentle kiss that shook my core. Oh, the way his beautiful eyes sparkled until the full silver moon. He lowered my hand, keeping them linked to each other, and led me forward. Walking with Arthur was not like any other experience you could ever have. He lifted me up and took me for a twirl or two without even touching me. He made me laugh, he made me cry. He took away my sins and replaced them with joy. And the best part, was that he was just like me. I would never be good enough for him, but the remnants of humanity in his soul reminded me that he was not without flaws. I don’t think I could ever love a man without flaws, and I could really never love a man who knew it. Arthur was frivolous and flirty and never seemed to be on anyone’s radar, but he knew he was flawed. What broke me was the fact that I knew he thought his flaws made him unlovable. It’s so funny how he’s so sharp, so brilliant, but doesn’t know how I really feel about him. I knew he was the most lovable man in history, but he didn’t. Heh. I guess there’s one thing I have over him.

As we walked, I contemplated if I should tell him. I squeezed his hand tighter, trying to rejuvenate the warmth that he gave on an increasingly colder night. What would Arthur say? The streets would have been completely empty and cold had it not been for the two of us, and the love that radiated from our hearts. Would my confession brighten the light or dim it? Or even worse… dim it completely? Why had Arthur been so silent the whole walk? God, so many questions plagued my mind, but everything came to a halt when we approached the beautiful, flowing River Seine.

I peered into the water, and before I knew it, I was adding a single droplet to her flowing waters. There was one person in the reflection, and one reflection only. The lights went out. The warmth completely vanished. And before I knew it, I was sitting on the riverbank, my face buried into my hands.

Oh, that’s the tradeoff to make believe. You live in your own magical little world where anything is yours, but like the astronaut detached from his ship, you find yourself hopeless and lost when all is done. How we all desire to live in the worlds we create for ourselves, and float in space forever. But that just can’t happen. I should’ve listened to Lotte. I shouldn’t have left. I shouldn’t have let my imagination wander, because I just found myself more lost than before. I let my feet soak in the river, thinking about the coin I’d tossed in with Arthur a few weeks ago. The coin I’d thrown in with the wish to leave with a smile on my face. I couldn’t bring myself to leave now, nor could I bring myself to smile.

Goddamn wishful thinking, and the pain it causes. I loved Arthur so much that I was answering my own question. I was about to burst. I was about to feel my heart jump right out of my chest and let me down yet again. It was time to resign for the night, I’d decided, so I stood up and looked next to me where I’d imagined Arthur to be on the walk there. “I love you,” I whispered. The tears kept flowing and my heart kept breaking. Despite all of this, I turned around and made my return trip home. But this time, only on my own.

[buzzykrueger]

The double loss of a childhood - a not-so-brief analysis through Gon and Kite

WARNING: MAJOR CHIMERA ANT ARC SPOILERS //

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First of all, this is kinda messy because I was writing and power went off </3. I wouldn’t even call it a meta, more of a psychological analysis. 

It's so complex the way Togashi works through symbolisms. Gon and Killua had to let go of their childhood and childish behaviors. Had to make challenging choices. While two of the few grown ups who cared about them and gave proper attention to their relationship, are the perfect imagery of children: new Kite and Bisky.

These two are the greatest and overall positive influences within Gon and Killua lives in terms of adult Hunters, always looking out for the boys. Both of them are experienced, opposing the appearance of a child.

The irony is that, while Bisky and post-CAA Kite look like children (Kite is a child now, to be honest), Gon and Killua are, actually, real children facing painful and forced coming of age, enduring conflicts that even adults can fail to cope with properly - and this has been acknowledged by Knov and Shoot, also two experienced Hunters that got mesmerized by how those two kids could still fight, despite everything they saw and been through. 

Anyways, Gon and Killua got their emotional development and their lack of experience put under extreme conditions, forcing them to break their dynamic without proper thinking, basically facing the war, the complexity of morals and relationships like adults.

That said, I’ll won’t be deeply working some points that I’m assuming you are all familiar with, like Gon’s reaction because Kite has been the fuel of his search for approval and being valued, or like how difficult it is for Gon not to handle things alone. 

First of all, Kite is indeed Gon’s fuel for his journey. For the first time, someone cared to tell him the truth about Ging, and made him feel a little bit important. Noticed. Someone stayed by his side, for a short moment, and gave him a reason.

And if you take into account that he died two times before Gon’s eyes, it makes everything more shocking for the kid.

“Huh, what do you mean?”

Pitou has killed the physical adult Kite, but the rebirth itself “killed” the father figure imagery that Gon saw in Kite. Resembling now a girl of similar age as Gon's, Kite can not be kept as a replacement for the mentor and father Gon didn't have. And this is a heavy loss, because it took Gon’s goal away from him.

It's also a very smart and symbolic way to end this desperate journey around the urge of becoming deserving of proud, especially from Kite, the one who gave his life a purpose. Because Gon has stated, back in chapter 7, that “Kite seemed to be prouder of him (Ging) than he was of himself”, so he wants to walk the same steps as his biological father to make someone proud of him the same way. He can't project his goals around others anymore - and like the Koala Man said, the heart must be fed, or you’ll end up doing the same things again and never getting satisfied with the outcome. What you seek must be found in yourself.

But what Kite sees, in this chapter called Repentance (337) is that Gon is probably not ready for the amount of reflection waiting for him. Kite then sees no good in weighting his shoulders any more. The moment where he asks Gon “sorry about what?” is important, because it’s where Kite and the readers get to understand that Gon needs a break before realizing it.

Kite, then, avoid this subject. Gon is not ready.

Instead of throwing the truth about what was the real issue here, Kite first gives Gon craved the most: he praises him for being able to defeat a stronger enemy that Kite himself could not. 

The boy’s reaction, though, it’s not what we would’ve expect from Gon.

Gon shows no trace of excitement over the fact he has accomplished his first goal - he was able to impress Kite. But, why is this so important? Because this is a breaking point for his journey. Gon doesn’t feel like he cares about this anymore. If Kite is not the same, he shouldn’t be either. If being approved doesn’t mean the same, meeting Ging is pointless. His past self has died, alongside with Kite  - figuratively and directly speaking.

The troubled boy acknowledges that "if it wasn't for Killua (name separated from the rest ‘cause he has his special spot) and everybody else, I wouldn't be here". This means a lot for Gon’s development and grief, because the moments where he feels he’s messed up or must redeem himself, he doesn’t mind getting hurt or overcoming fear in order to handle “his mess” all alone. If he proves himself and protect the ones he loves, he will do it. But he needed help, and this is something he doesn’t feel proud of. 

That’s when Kite shifts the engine once more. 

It’s useless to make Gon feel better addressing old desires. Like Kite himself, Gon also got a second chance. They are both letting go from their past. 

With a sweet tone, Kite breaks the cycle of the strong father figure: it's the same for him. Kite, the major inspiration for Gon, says that he didn't make it alone, too - and that doesn't make him less strong. He can’t be this parental figure anymore, maybe he didn’t even know he was. The only thing he knows, is that there are different types of strength. They are not weak for having friends and needing help.

With this, Kite closes the curtains. A strong and admirable Hunter, that wasn’t any less powerful for needing help. Gon shouldn’t be ashamed of this kind of strength: the power of making others wanting to be with him. Something that could not coexist with following Ging steps - Gon must belong to himself and separate him from others’ expectations.

That’s the final act of the mentor Kite, where he dies as a projection. Funny is, this moment with Kite holds some good parallels with the next chapter, where Killua and Gon part ways. Though I don’t think they’ve meant 100% the same, there are some hints that Killua also kept the soil fertile for Gon - but this is yet to be addressed in a future post.

Back to the story, Kite’s not a parent, not even an grown man anymore. He pushes Gon forward to meet Ging, because that’s the one thing that will end this cycle, definitively. No one to look up to, to pursue admiration from, and getting blind from fear of being weak and left behind. He must face change. This desire to be approved even if it costs his life has reached an end. This part of his journey must be accomplished - and left behind.

Gon can now center his journey around developing his self-esteem, thoughts on himself after knowing his own worth. He has a lot to make up for with Killua, but he had been forgiven. The soil is fertile once again, the seed of self forgiveness can grow. He can come up with a goal that centers around love with proper growth and responsibility, without others having to make up for self-esteem he lacks. He’s a traumatized child, that probably never put much thought on how lonely and scared he felt before he acted, and his coping mechanisms mimics his lack of experience.

He can now be free of the thought that, if he sacrifices this "undeserving being" he is on his mind, people will choose not to leave. Because giving up on his life wasn’t the right way to let them feel safe around him. They’ve left anyway. Everyone thanked him and look like they’re not mad, and he has found his father, but why things still look... unsatisfying? What meaning Ging even holds for him, still?

Losing his first goal is like losing his past self, and his childhood. Gon can’t walk backwards, though he comes back to Whale Island, things are not the same anymore, just like him. Losing the imagery and the person Kite is a twist of cycle, losing the urge of meeting Ging is cutting ties with this past self and this mad search for his own value in wrong sources, and now he has to understand what he wants and can do the way he is.

He must figure it out on his own, how he can grow from this and how to fix things before he finds a new goal. He has found something more important than the thing he was once hunting. Or better saying, someone. Someone that should’ve, yes, shared his feelings instead of creating distance - but he knows this certain someone left him with a smile because he cared. Killua will never overbear him, but can’t be the one to analyze everything for him anymore.

Gon has been forced to slow down and think, because in loneliness, there’s no one to impress. There, is where his identity will be found.

When you care about yourself, you learn how to take care of others. True, changing hurts. Losing childhood hurts. Losing strong beliefs and having to reconstruct yourself is a process. Bereaving children mostly don’t get proper attention because their anger, isolation and dismissive attitudes are often scolded than embraced, because they’re expected to endure loss like adults.

The dead don’t come back to life. Last minute, saved by the most important person in his life. But changing is the only inevitable thing while living. Kite was that important, but he must go away from the responsibility Gon has, unconsciously, put him through. Now, his journey consists of a blank page, waiting to be written once again with this new self, in order to learn how to fix his relationship with the one he loves the most. Killua wasn’t planned to exist in Gon’s life. They didn’t expect to run into each other, but as soon as they did, they’ve slowly changed their goals. Things seem off right now, but there is no room for replacements or masks. 

Gon might have not noticed, but his goal wasn’t the same already. Meeting Ging brings not the same feeling anymore, especially because Killua was the first thing running Gon’s mind when thinking about this meeting, a major indicative that Killua was, already, his top priority over his father - and maybe he never put a second thought on that, the way Gon is single-minded.

But now there is room for a lot of thinking, and there’s something we must remember, an optimistic hint that I’m saving its analysis for the separation meta:

“Gon is not the type to break a promise twice”, Killua has once said. 

[fleetwoodmak99]

Long Past Dawn Part 2

Eric Draven x Reader Headcanons

WARNINGS: Terrible Writing, Unconsciousness, Mentions of Blood, Violence, Panic Attacks, Deep Sadness, Death, Emotional and Physical Pain. 

SUMMARY: Aftermath of Long Past Dawn Part 1. It talks a little bit more about Eric’s POV but contains fluff. This is dedicated to @sister-morticia, who has been a true friend and inspired me so much. 

After you slipped into unconsciousness, Eric immediately took you to the hospital. He knew he wouldn't be able to give you the proper medical attention that you needed and he wasn’t going to risk losing you. 

With quick thinking, he scooped you up in his arms and used the crow as a guide to find the nearest hospital.

Eric would want to stay with you the whole time. Literally trying to hold onto any part of you at all times, completely terrified that he was going to lose you again.

You would go in and out of consciousness, your body not even letting you confront the pain. Fortunately, the doctor gave you some pain medication to help with the torment.

After waiting for what seemed like forever, the doctor explained that the bullet hadn't hit any major arteries in your leg, only damaging the muscles and exited through the back right side. Luckily, they were able to stop the bleeding and patch you up neatly. Saying that you are expected to have a good recovery as long as it doesn't get infected.

The doctors would let you rest at the hospital until you woke up but would have to kick you out due to overcrowding from the violence erupting on Devil’s Night. Eric on the other hand, has another plan.

Knowing fully well that Skank was going to tell Top Dollar about what happened, putting a target on both your backs once again. He knew you weren't going to be safe here and the sooner he could get you somewhere safe, the better.

So Eric lifted your motionless body from the hospital bed, grabbing some medical supplies and ran off into the night, being careful not to wake you in the process. Going to the only place he knew you would be safe, your old shared apartment.

Eric lets you rest for however long you need, probably resting right beside you with a hand relaxing on your stomach. It was his way of making sure you were still breathing, that you were ok and safe. Or he would rest it on your chest, in order to feel your heart beating steadily.

If he can't sleep, he would definitely stay up hatching some sort of plan to take care of Top Dollar and his henchmen. Eric knew he would never stop until you were both dead. There was no way Eric was going to let that happen.

As the pain medication starting to do its job, you slowly came out of unconsciousness. At first, being very confused as to what happened and where you were. Even through the medication, your head throbbed as you felt like your entire leg was on fire.

Confusion lead to pure panic as you notice where you were, everything hitting you at once. All the pain and sadness you had buried the past year, coming to the surface.

Eric would hear your soft sobbing and come running so fast. He expected you to be confused but he didn't expect to see you curled up in a ball as you struggled to get your breathing under control, your whole body starting to shake.

Eric immediately going to wrap his arms around you. He wanted to hold you, comfort you, wipe your tears away and tell you everything was going to be okay but he instead, you pushed him away.

You were completely terrified. Terrified of the pain you were facing, terrified that someone was trying to hurt you, terrified that Eric wasn't Eric anymore. Eventually, your thoughts going too fast to keep track of them.

Eric tried not to show it but he was hurt. He can see your pain, its only natural for him to rush to your side. He would simply put his hands up in an attempt to show you he was no threat, repeating the same words over and over again.

"I won't hurt you." “I won’t hurt you.” “I won’t hurt you.”

You might not believe him at first, after everything happened you put up walls to protect yourself, he would never blame you for that. What he will do is everything in his power to make sure you feel safe with him again.

At first, he would just sit by you. Offering you water, food, a blanket to keep you warm, anything you might need in this moment.

Eric is very patient. He will sit there for however long it will take until you feel comfortable with him.

Eric will attempt to help you with your breathing, asking you to focus on taking deeper breaths to slow it down. Holding his hands out in order to hold your trembling ones.

When you felt comfortable enough you would reach out your hand to meet his, him giving it a gentle squeeze while doing his best not to squeeze to hard.

Right then, Eric was able to feel everything. Seeing the pain, the anxiety and the loneliness you had experienced the past year all through your eyes.

Eric still doesn't fully understand the full extent of his abilities yet but he was thankful for this one. This way you never had to be alone again, he would feel everything with you. It made your connection stronger, you both could feel it.

Eventually, you would slowly lean into him. Burrowing your head in his chest as his hands softly wrapped around you. Rubbing your back to attempt to further calm your anxieties, giving him more pieces to the puzzle.

Eric could see you in the hospital after his death a year ago, you look so defeated. Clearly in a lot of physical and emotional pain. He wishes he could have been there for you. Eric understands why he couldn't but that doesn't mean it doesn't frustrate him.

Eric didn't realize how much his death would effect you. He almost thought himself the lucky one that didn't have to go a full year without you as you did him.

Eric would sit there with you for however long you needed, just holding you. Offering soft kisses on the top of your forehead as you worked through your running thoughts.

"They will never be able to hurt you again. I promise."

And he was intending on keeping that promise by taking out Top Dollar and his goons for good. Experiencing your memories only fueled his anger towards the top dog criminal.

You simply replied, "I thought I lost you forever." Tears filling your eyes once again. Eric could feel wetness collecting in his shirt.

Eric would squeeze you closer to him. He always gives the best hugs, especially the 'I thought I lost you' kind of hugs. 

After anxiety had finally loosened its grip on you and Eric knew you were comfortable, he would focus his attention to your leg. Giving you more medication for the pain, rebandaging it, giving you water to stay hydrated, anything you needed really.

Eric would try to hook up the electricity so you could watch some form of entertainment on the TV or the record player so you could listen to music. If that fails because he's not the best with that kind of stuff then he's going to get you some books for you to read.

While you spent time resting and healing, Eric spent time executing his plan. He was surprised how much of an inconvenience it was to take out Top Dollar. With the help of the crow, Eric basically plowed through Top Dollar and anyone else how sided with him.

When he gets back, takes a shower to get the blood off and lays back in bed with you, you were still deep in sleep. Eric notes how peaceful you look, wanting nothing more for you to be happy. 

Something that is constantly on his mind is when he's going to have to return back to the dead. Will it be in a few hours? A day? A week? Never?

However long it may be, as long as he knew you were content then he would make sure to treasure ever moment of life with you.

[blacksunscorpio]

Astro Musings No.1

Jupiter, as well as your Moon in your Natal chart, can show your addictions just as much as Neptune can. Jupiter is about excess and your Moon is your emotional state. Where one feels comfort or how they process these things/emotions.  Mercury placements or Mercury Dominant often make people great lyricists and communicators. Many famous rappers are actually Gemini’s (Notorious B.I.G, 2 Pac, Kanye, Kendrick, Andre 3000, etc). That's because Gemini is ruled by Mercury/the god of communication. He also rules the lungs. People with this dominance are very good with wordplay and are blessed with the gift of gab. 

Your Sun is still important

...despite modern astrologers attempting to throw it away. Your sun is your core. Your ego. Your basic identity. I’ve said it once and I’ll say it a thousand more-- we are heliocentric as a galaxy. This means all our planets orbit around the Sun. The same goes for your natal chart. Say you have a Gemini Sun and Capricorn moon but seem to identify more with Capricorn-- Your moon is your emotional habits-- and you know what they say about habits: they’re hard to break. This simply means you will always be a Gemini at your core even if you have the emotional tendencies and habits of a Capricorn. The same goes for those who say Lunar Scorpios are more ‘Plutonic’ than Solar Scorpios Now, it may seem that way, but this myth is only prevalent because emotions are extremely primal and powerful things. When they rear their head in a Plutonic way, people mistake the intensity for dominant power when in reality more drama does not equate more scorpionic influence. In fact, Scorpio’s are rarely the types to put on a show. They leave that for their Cousins-- The Cancers, The Arians [also ruled by Mars] & the Pisceans. True Scorpios prefer to be the tacticians. The ones who quietly observe their surroundings and flex when it comes to spatial awareness. They will rarely draw unnecessary attention to themselves and emotional scenes will often be kept under lock and key/private.

Speaking of Scorpio’s cousins, believe it or not, Aries, Sag’s and Cancers are the true divas of the zodiac, not Leos. That’s because Leo’s are upfront about what they want and will not surprise you with their scenes.

You know what’s coming/always knew it was there.  As for the aforementioned three, these triplets demand attention and praise or notice from others. Aries demand to be noticed for their prowess and skills, Sag’s can be excessive and demanding-- they want what they want and they want it NOW. No questions asked. Fueled by fire and Jupiter’s penchant for drama--you will never forget it if you don’t cough up what they demand. I.E. Nicki Minaj and her Grammy stunt[s]. Cancers give ultimatums to expedite the process of getting what they want. They are hard-pressed to demonstrate patience for people or to wait for situations to play out. They are never about the long game. They can be very coercive and forceful. At their worst, they can even be bullies. Of course, this is not the rule, I often find that December Sag’s, are more intense than November Sag’s. April Arians are less high strung than March Arians and July Cancers tend to act out more of the ‘diva qualities’ mentioned above than June Cancers.

Pluto is your friend.

Yes, the shadow is your friend. Pluto often gets a bad rap for being this torturous unknown force that comes to destroy/transform but that is not the case. Pluto is all about transformations, yes but transformations for the better. He is the garbage man. He gets rid of the trash. Toxic relationship? Ok! Pluto will rip it from you. It will hurt. You will cry. But after you’ve used up all the kleenex, you will have spidey senses. You will see those red flags before they and their cheap cologne darken your doorstep. You will level up. And while you’re doing that, Pluto will let you watch as he terrorizes your abuser. Pluto is justice. Not like Libra where all is fair and balanced by the scales. Pluto is Karma. Karmic Justice at that. The equalizer. He will show you the ugly of all those who wore the mask of ‘friend’. See, Pluto gets nasty rep because he forces you to see what you’d love to ignore. He makes you feel what society tells you to be numb to. Euphoria, Obsession, jealousy, bliss, even paranoia. Pluto is the depths. You need to feel. Jealousy is not an ugly emotion, ENVY is. They are not synonymous but people use them interchangeably. Pluto can be jealous, but jealousy is simply the sensation that something important might be taken from you. Envy is seeing someone have something, and hating them for it/not wanting them to have it. Pluto is not envious. He rules the underworld and in his realm live all of Earth’s riches. Gems, diamonds, gold, jewels. He is the wealthiest-- what could he possibly be envious of? Paranoia is equated to him too, but this is simply an exacerbation of his skill at being prepared. Pluto is a GENERAL. He wants you to have a PLAN. And when you don’t he forces you to get one, whether you’re prepared or not. Pluto is Chess, not Checkers. Pluto is the bandaid ripper. Pluto's love is cold and hard but empowering. He exposes. Shows the ugly. Friend’s you weren’t sure were enemies? Pluto rips their masks off so you have no choice but to see their ugliness. You will be disenchanted. Maybe even heartbroken. But a moment of grief for a lifetime of healthy happiness is Pluto’s payoff. Pluto also represents in the chart the area where we can most empower ourselves and elevate our lives and our dignity. Pluto will disempower your just to elevate you and make your story of failure a story of victory. He’s the ULTIMATE glow up King. Pluto shows us where we can triumph if we find a way to revolutionize or otherwise radically transform/change ourselves internally, despite our external challenges. Plutonic cleansings are like working out or giving birth. Excruciatingly painful to the point where you feel like you want to die but the result is a whole new body/person you’re absolutely in love with. He is purging.  Again, Pluto is about evolution. He does not and will not allow you to stay stagnant/in one stage of your life. He forces you to grow and if you won’t he has no qualms with making you. Pluto is not soft. 

Speaking of which. This includes his influence in the bedroom. Often people will talk about plutonic influence in a dark way. As if his influence sexually is something dark/forbidden or something to be ashamed of. Quite the contrary. Pluto rules sex. Literally. It was his domain before it was anyone else's’. Therefore, everything about sex is simply an offshoot of his influence. The rougher, primal, knee-shaking, back-scratching, neck biting, squirting/screaming orgasm, ball-gag wearing stuff? Completely ‘OK’ in his book. He wants you to experience that. The reasoning is that Pluto loves to explore and honor edgier sentiments within. Pluto urges us all to normalize fetishes and fully embrace this side of ourselves. Why? Because Pluto wants us all to live our truth, not hide. Can’t say the same for his brother Neptune though.

See, Neptune is who you should be worried about.

Neptune is the ruler of what is hidden. The realm of the unknown. All that is fantastic, the stuff of fantasy, illusions, dreams, day-dreams, etc. He puts a veil on things. Adds confusion to the mix. makes things hard to see. While Pluto strips away the hidden, Neptune happily puts on the blindfold. Not only does he hand you the rose-colored-glasses, he hands you a ruffied pint to go with it. The essence of this planet is ILLUSION.  With Neptune, it can be difficult to ascertain where and how things are working against you, or you have a hard time figuring out who or what it is. Neptune is about confusion. Neptune clouds your judgment, so you're especially vulnerable to deception and trickery. [Those with hard Neptune aspects can testify] Enemies can be especially difficult to make out/avoid when he’s involved and bad judgment all around can be a theme when he rears his foggy head.  What also makes him so dangerous is because he walks around looking like everything you want. The dream of dreams, if-you-will. As a result, he makes you receptive to mind-altered states. Can even make one prone to hallucinations, the use of poisons such as drugs and alcohol. Even spending copious amounts fo time building castles-in-the-air and neglecting reality. You become addicted to whatever he lays in front of you. The fantasy is more alluring than reality. With Neptune adversely aspected or too many hard aspects to inner planets, this can cause chaos that can negatively impact a native or those closest to them. Neptune on Mercury can be particularly dangerous if ill-aspected because it can cause dishonesty to a pathological degree or simply mental instability. Think Joe Goldberg from ‘You’. 100% crazy 200% delusional. This guy definitely has a shot a gallon of Neptune in his natal cocktail. Manufacturing scenarios that aren’t really occurring. Obsessively daydreaming and idealizing strangers. Successfully conning others into thinking he’s a normal and stable guy when he’s anything but. His judgment is clouded as is the judgment of the poor souls who encounter him, while you, as a viewer, watch in horror. That’s what Neptune does. You won’t see reality until it’s wayyyy too late [RIP Beck].  Neptune rules over all chaotic feelings, and can easily un-focus the lens, making us inclined to obsess over impossible dreams and yearn for far-out things. OMG Neptune is all about yearning. Yearning for the unattainable. But as Dumbledore said: 

“It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live.”

But that’s what Neptune will make you do. Forget to live. Dwell on the impossible. Make you prone to hypnotic mindstates that steal moments of your life away. Sex with Neptune can be almost spiritual but it can cause one to get addicted to the rush, and with Neptune clouding judgment, one can perhaps become addicted to sex or even participate in risky sexual behavior. Neptune at its worst also influences death by mysterious means, suicides, death by drowning, disappearance, or even poisoning if found in the eighth house or connected to it.

Neptune is a beautiful planet. Methane causes it to have that brilliant blue hue. It rains diamonds. But again, there but the aura/odor around it is methane. In layman’s terms? The planet literally smells like shit. This classic example of not all that glitters is gold. Tread very carefully when Neptune is around and keep your eyes peeled. Something or someone may not really be what it/they seem. Astro Musings No. 2  Astro Musings No. 3 Astro Musings No. 4  Astro Musings No. 5 Astro Musings No. 6 Astro Musings No. 7 Astro Musings No. 8  Astro Musings No. 9  Astro Musings No. 10