#except I haven’t been abandoned yet I’m just very sure I will be

[your-mom-friend]

The past few months have felt like I’m drowning. My workload is so much and there’s so many things I haven’t done but that’s not what’s drowning me oddly enough. I feel like I’m drowning in the thoughts of the life I might end up with, the life I could have, the life I could’ve ended up with, and the life I want all at the same time.

Yes, drowning is the right word. My hand reaches up to grab something, anything, a rope, a board, a hand, just to get a hold on something that will pull me out of the water that’s blurring my vision and constricting my chest and filling my lungs and weighing down my every movement. Drowning is a word people use often to describe these feelings but for the first time I feel like I truly understand what it means.

Drowning is the right word

There is a small, but not insignificant, part of me that is dark and twisted and manipulative and all the things I swore I won’t be and it pushes me to be kinder for all the wrong reasons.

I am still kind. I mean well. I want my enemy to eat even if not at my table. I want to see my family prosper even if they cast me out one day. I want them all to be happy.

But somewhere inside, one of the reasons I do it is because I want it to hurt.

If I am to one day be gone from their lives I want it to hurt them. I want my laughter to echo in their ears knowing they cast me out. I want my former homes to be so full of my essence, so infused with me that no corner would exist where they could see and not see the person they got rid of. I want my sister to look at the penguin plushie I gave her and wish she’d done different. I want my mother to go in the kitchen and know she’ll never see me excitedly try a new recipe to show her. I want my father to look at the shelves and remember how delightedly I’d tell him about each new book I’d bought, each new thing I’d studied in school.

I want them all to live with the fact that they’d never see me laugh or smile or pronounce things wrong or make the face I always make when I want to ask for something or have long conversations stretching hours into the night, sat upside down on sofas or laid up in bed with blankets in lamp light or leaning against the kitchen counters, ever again.

I think one day I will tell my family who I am and they will get rid of me and I want it to hurt. I want them to never forget who I was to them and who the child they’d loved would never be to them again. I want the kindness and understanding and generosity I am so known for to become a gaping wound in their chests when I’m gone so that not a single day could pass where they are not reminded that that is the person they got rid of for something so simple as a difference in faith, for a difference in love.

I hate this side of me. She wants to protect me from the hurt that will come from being cast away, I think. I do not think she can. I think she hopes that I will accept my fate and move on before it happens so that I don’t need to feel it when it does. She’ll take my pain and turn it into rage for me to propel me further. She holds my hands so, so gently in hers to take the pain away and I don’t want her to touch me.

I hate that she exists. I hope she knows what she’s doing.

I wonder sometimes if all this fear and distrust and anxiety is for nothing. What if everything works out? What if I come out to my parents, about my sexuality and my religion or lack thereof and they accept me? What if I’ve spent so long preparing myself for the worst that when the best happens it will devastate me more? When I’ve spent so many years building this preparatory rage and indifference and now it was all for nothing? What if I’m putting myself through the grief of loss when there was nothing to lose?

This is what I fear more, I think. That it was truly all in my head, that I’d misconstrued everything I’d ever thought was true and that my family is good, and the only evil is me, preparing myself the victim when there’s no crime perpetrated.

I think back to my older sister. She’s been my idol since I was a child. I’ve never not looked up to her. To her strength and drive and resilience and patience. I tell her I fear that one day I’ll lose her. That she’ll get tired of keeping my secret and that she’ll tell our parents in a misguided attempt to help me. She does not tell me she hopes that day never comes, cannot promise me it never will. She apologises in advance for when it happens. We both know it will. This conversation has looped in my head, made itself the star of my every waking nightmare since it’s happened. Not one night passes where I do not picture the scene play out in front of my eyes. A thousand times the scene plays, with a thousand different variables. There is only one ending to the story. There is no other version of this story.

It is hard to think now. I kick my legs. I try to stay above the water. My head goes under and comes up repeatedly. I see the sky before I’m submerged and the dark water before I come up again. My legs grow weaker. My breaths, shallower. I try to keep my hands out, hoping that they’ll grab onto something, anything, to give me a moments respite and expel the water that’s slowly entering my lungs. There is not enough of me left to find a new solution. I’m not sure how long I can keep it going. I can only do it until I can’t. Either I will escape or I will drown. Till then I can only keep going.

[suzukiblu]

WIP excerpt for inkwell behind the cut; “Billy and Damian and the whole soulmate thing”. (( chrono || non-chrono ))

Like–except Robin, obviously. Robin doesn’t deserve him being spiteful. Robin deserves, like, a nice wedding with Nightwing as his best man and Red Robin, like, definitely invited but maybe seated at a table off to the side behind a tactically-placed floral arrangement or twelve and also whatever Robin likes to eat on the menu, which Billy admittedly doesn’t actually know yet and probably needs to figure out. Though then again, if he’s running away from the Justice League and/or Batman’s weird seventeen-bedroomed house until he’s eighteen, Robin’s tastes are probably gonna change a bit, so maybe he should just wait on that so he can be sure he’s getting it right and all? 

Ugh. Billy really doesn’t wanna have to run away from the Justice League until he’s eighteen. Especially not Batman. Batman’s really good at finding people, so he’s basically just gonna have to hide out at the Rock of Eternity for like the whole time, and that is so long and is gonna get so boring so quick. 

Ugh. Ughhh. Ugh. 

“Where was that? Laws about supplying alcohol to a minor vary significantly from state to state,” Batman says as Flash slithers to the floor with an actual moan. Billy glowers at him. He is still not forgiving him just ‘cuz he’s funny. “And felony charges can apply to repeat offenders."

. . . alright, Batman’s really funny. But still, dammit! 

“Bats, I really don’t think accidentally buying a drink for a magically-disguised minor three years ago is the relevant concern here,” Green Lantern says in exasperation. 

“You said you took him to multiple bars,” Batman says, just barely tilting his head. “Was that the only time any of you bought him a drink?” 

“I–you–he looks like forty!” Green Lantern protests. Flash just stays on the floor. 

Batman raises an eyebrow behind his mask, then looks over at Billy and looks him over; then looks back to Green Lantern with a very telling expression. Green Lantern sputters indignantly. 

“Stop being funny, asshole, I’m still gonna be mad even if you are,” Billy grumbles at Batman, who just makes the same little “hm” noise he always does when he’s feeling particularly smug about a joke he’s made. Billy scowls at him on principle. 

Asshole. Geez, like Billy’s new here or something. 

“Father, this is hardly professional behavior,” Robin says, giving Batman a withering look. 

“God, I will never understand what kids even think Bats is saying,” Green Arrow mutters under his breath, half-covering his face with a hand and eyeing Robin through his fingers. “Listen, Cap–Billy–” 

“Excuse you?” Billy asks, scowling at him instead. “You think we’re on a first-name basis while you guys are threatening me?” 

“Listen, brat, I am also a licensed foster parent, and Star is closer to Fawcett than Gotham is, so I in fact am threatening you,” Green Arrow retorts, narrowing his eyes at him. “And there’s eight bedrooms in my house.” 

“That is not a house!” Billy says. “That’s literally not a house, that’s like a hotel! Why do none of you just have houses?!” 

“A motel, perhaps,” Robin drawls, eyeing Green Arrow disdainfully. 

“I am not living with anyone, I’m fine,” Billy emphasizes with a glower. “I’ve been fine all this time, haven’t I?”

“. . . Billy,” Superman says, looking stressed. “How long have you been homeless, exactly?” 

“Since I was like seven,” Billy says, since he doesn’t count any of the in-and-out foster care nonsense as not being homeless, considering. That’d just been a bunch of shitty places he’d had to sneak out of or run away from, not actually anywhere he’d ever really lived. Mostly he’d slept in abandoned buildings or alleys or parks, ‘cuz it’d been safer. “So I’m fine, obviously.” 

“Since you were seven,” Superman repeats, looking stressed. 

“That’s what I said,” Billy says in exasperation, folding his arms again and glowering at him. “And I didn’t even have superpowers then and still took care of myself fine, so I’m double-fine now, actually.” 

Superman puts his face in his hands, for some reason. Black Canary pats his back sympathetically.

Billy does not think Superman deserves sympathy right now.

[chaoticbardlady99]

I Wondered If I Could Come Home? (Astarion x F! Reader)

Synopsis- It’s been 4 months since you last saw Astarion and 3 months since you killed the Netherbrain with your other companions. Shortly after, you settled down in Silverymoon to begin a life out there and try to push Astarion out of your mind- except it can never be that easy. You shortly discover you are pregnant with his child- a child that could kill you during childbirth. Scared and alone- Shadowheart stays with you to help you deliver the baby and keep you alive.

While out at the local market, Shadowheart runs into Gale and invites him over for dinner. Gale has unexpected company.

CW: Pregnancy, mentions of potential death during birth, mentions of nudity, mentions of NSFW smut

To my fellow DND fans- no this is probably not canon compliant, yes I’m upset about that, but look I really needed to write this so sue me I guess

Author note- Self indulgent, I have baby fever, but don’t want a baby fic. I’m unsure of how long this will be or if it will have more parts-it depends on how angsty I feel, but I need to have like six different ideas to think about at a time soooo 😂

*This hasn’t been edited ✨well✨so please forgive me

*again, no fucking clue who’s picture it is, but it sure as shit isn’t mine so if it’s yours- reach out so I can give credit!

You keep yourself propped up against the sink in the kitchen as Shadowheart holds your hair out of your face and dabbing away the cold sweat that drips down your neck.

You are really sick of being morning sick. It’s absolutely the worst thing in the world- well besides your potential death from carrying your little girl inside of you. You sometimes think Astarion may get his wish- you may just die screaming.

You dry heave one last time- not a single thing comes up because you haven’t kept a single thing down since two mornings ago. Your morning sickness is inconsistent and comes on with little to no warning.

It’s been five months since you conceived this fricken kid, but it was like all the symptoms hit after you killed the Netherbrain.

A part of you really wishes you had somehow known before then- maybe it would have changed the cruel fate that ended your relationship with Astarion. You were literally pregnant in the middle of fighting Cazador. You think about what he last said to you all the time and just sob hysterically- like it happened yesterday.

A deeper part of you feels abandoned, but you blame yourself for him leaving. You should have been more convincing or maybe you shouldn’t have flat out told him no and explained why in the hells you didn’t want him to ascend.

For example- you didn’t want to lose him to some evil version of himself.

Ironically, you lost him anyway and are pregnant with his fucking child who insists on occasionally making you miserable.

Despite your inherent sadness, anger, and sickness, you find you are actually quite excited to meet her. You haven’t settled on a name yet and Shadowheart has been very helpful in regards to making sure you are healthy and strong for delivery. She’s your best friend and you could not be more grateful for her.

“I’ll go back to the market today and get you more of those herbs,” Shadowheart says quietly when she talks to you, “they seemed to help last time?”

You nod- exhausted and your head is pounding. You and this kid are going to need to have a serious conversation. You will not be letting a second Acunin make you miserable before she is ever born.

Shadowheart guides you to your bed upstairs, standing behind you in case you get hit with a wave of vertigo- which usually happens post vomit episode.

You pull your curtains closed- thankful that the desperate hope in your heart led you to buying black out curtains. You close your door and lay down on your bed- tears spilling down your cheeks freely.

You miss him terribly. You shouldn’t. You should positively hate him, but everyday of this pregnancy makes you ache for him. You should be doing this together.

You know it’s hormones- the weepiness, the intense longing, and the Gods awful horniness. Dreams are the worst. You wake up a squirming disaster at least three times a week with your skin burning hot with memories of Astarion touching you.

You are happy that isn’t the case currently, but the weepiness sucks too. Remembering how he used to curl around you, the way it felt to have him kiss you on the forehead, and all those late night conversations with (now empty) promises. You curl yourself around your pillows, willing your imagination to pretend it’s him, and you sob until you fall asleep.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Astarion tries to contain his excitement and fear as he follows Gale and Shadowheart to your home. Finally, after searching for literal months, he was going to see you again.

Astarion has been haunted by the last words he had said to you for what feels like eons now. He hadn’t meant it at the time and he certainly doesn’t mean it now.

He had been too afraid to come back to you after everything he had said. Astarion decided you probably hate him anyway so he tried to move on.

He tried being with other people (it always failed miserably because they weren’t you), he drank until he couldn’t remember a damn thing, and when all else failed, he began his search for the Ring of the Sunwalker.

After the nightlife of Baldur’s Gate lost it’s appeal and he finally found a ring location, Astarion found himself in front of Gale’s door in Waterdeep- begging him of all people to help him.

The wizard had been puzzled and melancholy when he realized Astarion was at his door. Astarion told him every little piece of how he feels about you, how much he misses you, and how he wants to be able to give you the life that you deserve. Astarion was practically on the verge of hysteria while trying to make his case.

Thus began the search for the Ring of the Sunwalker.

They were able to locate and obtain one after a grueling three month long journey and some help from one of Gale’s old friends. Then, they headed straight to Silverymoon- your last known whereabouts.

Running into Shadowheart had felt like a miracle, but to also have her living with you had made the trip even easier. Except Shadowheart was being really really weird towards him.

When Gale first asked if Astarion could come along too, Shadowheart had asked Astarion why he wanted to come and see the person he “hoped died screaming?”

Astarion had flinched at the anger and venom in Shadowheart’s voice. He figured the others would be mad, but he was hoping maybe Shadowheart would give him a little easier time like Gale had. Astarion was genuinely surprised by how quick she was to be defensive of you and your whereabouts. When Gale confirmed that Astarion was telling the truth, Shadowheart reluctantly said he could come.

The three arrive at the front of your shared townhome- it faces the beach and has the perfect amount of windows for the sun to light up the house, but one of the rooms is hidden from sight with heavy, black out curtains.

Shadowheart turns to both of them, “Tav might not be able to join us… she’s been sick for a bit now and is… recuperating.”

Astarion feels his heart drop to his stomach.

“Sick? For how long?”

Shadowheart shifts on her feet uncomfortably, “5 months, but it got worse around 3 months.”

“Tav has been sick for that long?” Gale exclaims, “why didn’t you write!? I could have helped.”

“This particular affliction is one you wouldn’t understand,” Shadowheart says with a finality that suggests the conversation is done as she leads them into the kitchen.

Shadowheart immediately gets fussing with the herbs while Gale looks around the house. Astarion is still unsure of what he should be doing. The house engulfs him in your scent and he feels positively intoxicated. You must be really sick though because your scent smells different- not bad at all, just different.

Does he talk to Shadowheart? Does he look around with Gale?

Or does he sneak off and find you? Astarion doesn’t want to waste anymore time than he already has. Slowly, he creeps towards the stairs.

“Don’t even think about it, Astarion,” Shadowheart warns.

Astarion looks at her and then back at the stairs. He does this a couple times until Shadowheart appears to be annoyed enough that she’s let her guard down a bit.

Astarion takes off up the steps and he hears Shadowheart and Gale coming up right behind him.

Astarion hears a dry heave from down the hallway and he goes racing for the door.

If you are as sick as Shadowheart has suggested (5 months is crazy long), Astarion may not have much time with you and Gods he needs to take advantage of the time he does have.

Shadowheart be damned.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

You wake up feeling even worse than you did when you fell asleep. Your headache feels like it’s taken on a life on it’s own and Gods you are going to vomit all over the floor if you don’t move NOW!

You get up with an impossible amount of speed for how dizzy you are and you grab the pail on your nightstand and heave painfully.

You are rocking back and forth, groaning as more stomach acid comes up because again, not able to even keep anything down.

You hear a pair of footsteps and then Shadowheart screaming after-

“ASTARION! THEY ARE SICK! YOU NEED TO WAIT!”

“I have been looking for them for months now,” you hear him hiss, “if they are sick, I need to see them. If this has lasted five months- then who knows how much time I’ve wasted!”

“Will you stop being selfish for five minutes!? It’s not about you and who even says she wants to see you!?”

Shadowheart and Astarion are yelling in front of your door now. You feel tears prick your eyes- Astarion is here. Here here. A flurry of excited kicks from inside you catches your attention and a feeling of blissful happiness comes over you. Oh look, the nausea is gone. Of course it is.

“Traitor,” you whisper before laying down on your bed for a moment.

You are very happy that your unborn daughter appears to be pleased and feels good about her dad being on the other side of the door. You, on the other hand, are less than optimistic.

Wasted time doing what? And why did Shadowheart say I was sick!? In what world was that going to keep him from going upstairs!? Especially if he, your mind pauses, cares about me? Again?

Which you hope he does- you would hope Shadowheart wasn’t so sick of taking care of you that she brought him here to finish the job. Maybe this is all one big show.

Another, “I WILL DO WHAT I PLEASE” from Astarion, a “YOU SELFISH BASTARD” from Shadowheart, and a “Please can’t we all just be nice, catch up, and get along?” from Gale finally gives you the motivation to get up. The arguing feels far too much like being in camp again. You pinch the bridge of your nose, willing the growing headache to go away.

It doesn’t so you change into a pair of longer cotton pajama pants, a t-shirt that is unfortunately showing off your bump more than you’d like, and then you swing open the door in tired annoyance.

You are met with Astarion looking at you- his eyes scanning up and down your body- settling on your stomach. His expression is unreadable- it’s somewhere between lust, love, grief, and heartbreak. Embarrassed by Astarion’s intense gaze, you look over at Gale who is all smiles for you.

“Congratulations Tav!!!” Gale practically yells, making you wince, “the father is a lucky man.”

“I don’t think he considers himself a lucky man,” you say pointedly before turning to Astarion, “or do you?”

Astarion’s face changes entirely with your words. His eyes look at you, round and soft. His eyes are full of adoration and need- a look you never thought he would give you again. You have to fight the urge to grab him and drag him into your bedroom. You will not let the hormones win- you will be strong.

“I- it’s- I mean,” Astarion is fumbling over his words, “you are carrying my child?”

“Yes,” you say grumpily, crossing your arms,” and she’s been giving me nothing but trouble. Thanks to your genetics, I’m sure. This is day two of not being able to keep a damn thing down and this fucking headache is UNBEARABLE so please for the love of every God keep the arguing down.”

Astarion is still looking at you with a mystified expression- taking you in as if for the first time in his entire life. You look back towards Gale and Shadowheart- you are entirely too self-conscious and way too excited to see him for him to be looking at you like that. You are trying to be mad dammit!

Shadowheart gazes at you and your surely red tipped ears with amusement before she says, “I’ll go and get the potion ready for you- that should hopefully help.”

“I will- uh,” Gale says awkwardly, looking between you and Astarion, “join you! I might need to know which herbs to use… in the future?”

“Planning on getting pregnant Gale?” You say with a smirk.

Gale snorts at you, “Dear friend, as wonderful as you look right now- none of the side effects sound appealing.”

“Oh they most certainly aren’t,” you say,” but thanks for thinking I look ‘wonderful’. I feel, well, disgusting.”

“Gods, how could you even think that?” Astarion blurts out, appearing shocked that he even said it, “you look like…. A vision. A wonderful, stunning vision, Darling.”

Shadowheart and Gale excuse themselves as you struggle to find the words for Astarion’s comment. Your entire body feels like it’s on fire and you feel yourself begin to melt a little bit. You feel your emotions bloom into something resembling spring as he steps closer to you- looking at you with pleading eyes.

You clear your throat, “would you like to come into my room and talk?”

Astarion nods eagerly, following behind you so close that you once again have to remind yourself that ripping off the clothes of someone who literally told you they wanted you to die screaming was not healthy- at least not until you get a proper apology.

You sit against your headboard as Astarion walks around your room- running his fingers along the bassinet and rocking chair in the corner. You still can’t get a read on him.

“A girl?”

His question breaks the air.

“Yes,” you smile at him, “no name yet though.”

“I’m sure you’ll pick a nice one,” he says with a smile, but his tone is entirely too melancholic.

A painful thump in your heart fills your body with sadness. He doesn’t want to be involved. Of course he doesn’t want to be involved. You are his knocked up ex-girlfriend. What were you expecting? The lump forming in your throat is unbearable.

“You don’t want to be involved?”

Oh good Gods you are crying. Astarion rushes over to you the minute your tears begin to fall- sitting in front of you on the bed. He reaches out and gently wipes your tears away as he speaks.

“I want to be involved so badly it hurts,” his voice comes out scratchy and emotional, “but that is your decision, not mine. You have been on your own for months, my Love. Instead of trying to come back and make it better- I pushed it off until I thought I could give you what you deserved- a life in the sun.”

You almost whine in protest when his hands leave your face. He twists the ring around his index finger before continuing, avoiding your gaze, “But maybe I was wrong. Maybe what you deserve is a person that isn’t so damaged. Someone who can give you what you actually deserve which is a loving partner who hasn’t hurt you over and over again- a man worthy of being a father to ou- I mean your child.”

His confession and the tears that are streaming down his face are enough for you. Yes, you absolutely want to scream and yell at him, but you also ache for him. You can’t fault the man for being a slave for 200 years and then not taking it very well when you told him what to do. You always knew you would forgive him if he came back- you never thought he would, but here he is and like he said- there is no reason to keep wasting time.

“She is our child, Star,” you whisper and guide his eyes to look at you, “I want you to be involved. I don’t care what you think I deserve either. I have missed you so horribly since you left. It’s almost pathetic really. I’ve tried to blame it on the hormones, but… I don’t know. The picture has felt incomplete up until now.”

You absentmindedly put your hand on your stomach- receiving a kick. You glare at the place where your hand is resting.

“Will you stop kicking me for five minutes!?” You scream, “I WAS IN THIS BODY FIRST!”

Astarion looks at you bewildered and confused, but quickly realizes you aren’t talking about him. The smile that spreads across his face is wide and Astarion gingerly moves closer. You are still a little cautious- needing to protect not only yourself, but also your unborn child. He moves to the right of you and goes to move you just slightly so he can slip in behind you.

“Could I? I mean if it’s not crossing any boundaries!”

Astarion is on edge- you can tell that much, but he doesn’t look at you like he did that last time you saw him- Astarion is looking at you like you are the most precious individual who has ever walked this earth.

You nod shyly, and then Astarion slots himself behind you, your back against his chest, his face in the crook of your neck, and his legs on either side of yours. He cautiously puts his hands on your stomach and is immediately kicked.

Astarion laughs with joy, “she’s strong!”

“Strong willed and strong physically,” you shake your head and you are laughing a bit now too, “you may just get your wish yet.”

“What wish?”

It had slipped. You hadn’t meant to bring it up again- or maybe you did. You want to know for sure if he still feels that way, but the confusion in his voice says he doesn’t. You go rigid and go to dismiss it when you feel his posture change behind you, his grip loosening ever so slightly.

“Right… that.”

The silence is nerve-wracking. You’ve lost him again, you are sure of it. A stray tear begins to roll down your cheek.

“Astarion-“

“No, let me think, Darling. I want to make sure I say everything I want to say correctly.”

You continue to sit there in silence, he places soft kisses on your neck. You feel him smile against your skin at the needy moan that escapes your lips. You absentmindedly reach out for one of his hands and begin to play with his fingers while he thinks. Astarion used to let you do this all the time while you were traveling- it helps you feel grounded.

“I was so consumed by all that power in the moment,” he says slowly, “I wasn’t thinking. By the time I had realized what I had done, I felt like it was already too late- you most likely hated me and moved on.”

You have to bite your tongue- you want to scream. Hate him? Never. You had been miserable without him around for that last month of traveling. Your heart had felt like a dead weight in your chest and you had been moving around like a zombie.

“So I tried to move on… I even tried to be with others, but I just couldn’t do it. It’s selfish, but I want you. I never want anything bad to happen to you- I certainly don’t ever want you to die screaming. I don’t want you to ever carry a child that is not mine.”

You are surprised by the warmth in your core when he says his last sentence. There is something so primal there that you have to really focus on what he is saying next.

Astarion clears his throat before finishing speaking, “I don’t want to be without you anymore- four months is too long. I don’t want to miss out on anymore of your pregnancy and I want to be here for you- with you- doing this together like we should have been doing this whole time. I was a horrible fool- please give me another chance. Please, Darling. I love you- so so much more than I ever thought anyone could ever love someone.”

Astarion’s words hang in the air and you are trying not to begin crying for the 15th billion time. This is what you had wanted to hear all along. You can feel his tears on the collar of your shirt- the way he inhales as if to memorize your scent like this is the last time. Astarion is not expecting you to say yes- you know that because he’s starting to loosen up, pulling away from you so that he can respect your decision.

“I love you too,” you whisper, “I don’t want to be without you anymore either. I forgive you- please stay.”

“I won’t be going anywhere unless you want me too, my Love.”

[muffinsin]

Hi muffin!

Can you please do a dimitriscu fam x age reg r?

Except r is around 19 so in general she's also the youngest and she never had a loving mother so she lives to call alcina mama a lottttttt.

Let's say she was abused by her previous family a lot, little to no food, made to clean ho after them, not allowed to eat at the table and made to sleep outside at some point. And the Dimitriscu family undoes each one of the damage slowly

(Ur fics are so comforting, I hope you have a good day )

Awhhh, absolutely! Some platonic loving and fluff is super needed, I feel XP I’m happy to see my work bringing comfort🙇‍♀️!

Let’s get into it :)

Masterlists

Arriving at the castle, you didn’t have high hopes

In fact, following the whispers and rumors heard in the village, you were sure you wouldn’t last one month

Hell, they called it. The devil’s den

Full of monsters

A place bringing only despair. Blood, and death. Pain, helplessness. Isolation

Yes, there is pain, and death, and isolation

But, that isn’t quite the whole story

Sometimes, innocent maids are hurt

Often, they are not nearly as innocent as the villagers and other maidens like to make them out to be, some outright trying to hurt the castle’s inhabitants directly or indirectly

You don’t want to hurt them, and not only because you’re sure they’re able to kill you instantly, should they choose to

No, you… you find humanity in them, more than you have in the villagers and maidens around you, more than you have found in your parents

Alcina Dimitrescu is…stern. But not mean

She expects loyalty, and efficiency. She expects the staff to do their work, to think critically when needed and obey mindlessly at other times

Bela Dimitrescu, you find, thinks similarly, not standing for incompetence and laziness

Cassandra Dimitrescu cares little for the maids, seeing them as playthings only. And still, you find humanity even in her

You see how bored she is, how very annoyed at times

Knowing this, you’ve never once been at the receiving end of her blade, staying away when you sense she’s frustrated, offering and listing things to do that you’re sure the sadist will like when she gets a little too close

And lastly, Daniela

She’s the first to have truly interacted with you

While attempting to flirt at first, quite usual for the redhead, her gaze shifted after a little while of talking to you

While described as manic and dangerous, you find Daniela is the most like a human, desperate for love and happiness

She’s eager to have conversations with you, to genuinely get to know you

She’s curious about your life, even tells you a little of hers

At the beginning of your time working at the castle you already find a friend in her, finding it easy to talk to her

With her cheery, youthful attitude and behavior, it’s easy to see she’s the youngest, easy to imagine she isn’t all that much older than you, years instead of centuries

Then, one day it changes, when the castle is attacked by lycans hunting in the nearby woods

You know the procedures, know what to do, have been trained

Yet, raw fear is what’s eating you alive, fear you haven’t felt since leaving your family to work at the castle

And abandoning all instructions, you decide to hide in the nearest room you could find

A room that just happens to be Alcina Dimitrescu’s private chambers

For most, this would mean a swift death. The staff is not welcomed into any private chambers unless specifically selected and tasked to enter them

Alas, even when the abnormally large woman stands before you, her claws out, she recognizes you as the little human befriending her lonely, youngest daughter

The loyal one, Daniela calls you

The sweet one

The honest one

The young one

And looking at your face, the matriarch immediately saw it. Your youth. Your fear. Your helplessness. Your desperation that drove you to hide out here

She pulls in her claws again, looking you over

Such a little face, such fear in your wide eyes

This is no place for a thing as young as you

Who of her staff has employed you?! You’re barely of age

When the door rattles and another lycan is heard breaking into the other side of it, trying to claw its way in, she does what comes instinctively for her, even when back then she doesn’t yet know why

You squeak in surprise and terror as you’re lifted, high off the ground, just out of reach when the door eventually gives in

Instead, you’re safe as the few Lycans at the other side are slaughtered easily, hiding away your face to spare yourself the brutal display of metallic claws digging through fur and flesh

You realize; she’s holding you by your waist, has gently raised you to her hip, where you can hold onto her shoulder for balance and hide in the fabric of her dress as growls are all that is still heard before the lycans die down

Alcina, on her part, feels- odd

The way you cling onto her dress in fear, hide away, the way you feel fitted against her

It reminds her of the times her three daughters were but newborns, clinging to her as she carried them, their little legs, while adult sized, not nearly strong enough to hold them up yet. How they had wobbled unsteadily like baby deers, holding onto their Mother and whining and screeching to be lifted when they inevitably became irritated at their inability to walk just yet

You aren’t one of them

And still…

You feel so familiar in her arms

So right

Like you are hers. Like you do belong to her

She thought she saved you for Daniela, thought she saved you to keep her daughter’s one friend alive. Alas, that isn’t the only or main reasoning behind her action

Instinct, rather, which she feels again now Alcina feels your little, human hands on her dress, holding tight even as you’re too shy to ask to be let down or to ask to stay with her

You want to stay

She saved you

She’s holding you so…kindly

You feel safe, maybe the first time in your life

Never has your family held you like this. So…gentle

You can tell she’s holding back her strength on purpose to avoid hurting you, easily displayed by how quickly she destroyed the intruding lycans

As though stuck in this position, you only hold onto her as she walks out the room, ducking too when she ducks through the doorway and reaching up automatically to hold her hat for her when it dares slip from her

At this, you hear a surprising, new sound

Laughter

Fond laughter

No mocking is evident in her tone, only wonder and fondness, even glee

You can’t help but blush, and when you’re sure she isn’t looking, hide back against her shoulder

Against her, you feel and are so incredibly small, held easily with one hand, lifted high above the ground and all threats

You’re brought to a room you don’t recognize, though soon figure out it must belong to Daniela by the many romance books on the shelves, the fluffy pillows and unorganized mess on the ground

Embarrassingly, you almost whine when you’re set down on the bed, losing the comforting touch of the older woman

You refuse to make a sound, can’t make a sound, only look up with wide, somewhat teary eyes

You can’t help that, even as you actively force yourself not to reach for her again already

You’re scared, and don’t want her to leave

As if sensing this, her large hand raises, and your cheeks burn up when the woman cups your face in her hand

This comfort…you can’t help but let a few tears drop, utterly overwhelmed by your fear of the lycans and the strangeness of the situation

Never have you heard of any of the ladies of the castle treating a human like this, except maybe a lover

You know though, a lover isn’t what the older woman sees in you. Still, you don’t yet know what she sees instead

“You will be safe here, little one”, she promises, her voice sure and steady. You gulp, nodding at her words

You don’t know what else to say, what else to do. Can only obey as you have all your life

She shoots you an involuntary smile, the soft kind that is normally only reserved for her precious daughters

When she leaves the room and blocks the door behind her, you immediately miss her

You frown, confused

You don’t even know her that well, know practically nothing about her

Oh; but you felt so, so safe in her arms

You sit in the large, comfortable bed for a little bit, but soon get up, feeling guilty and wrong for being in such a nice room, such a nice bed

You know, this isn’t yours

This is Daniela’s

Will she be furious to find you here?

You whimper as your own thoughts threaten to overwhelm you

Instead, you decide to help out, cleaning the messy room and putting lost books back onto the shelves and pencils back to the desks, clothing to the closet or a pile at the corner of the room, pillows back into the bed

You think, Daniela will like it. You know how she wants her things cleaned by now, know she doesn’t necessarily care about a specific pattern and organization system like her eldest sister

Hours pass, the monstrous sounds from the outside of the room slowly dying down a little

You jump when flies surround you, flinch when arms wrap around you

“You’re okay!”

Huh?

You find yourself smudged against Daniela’s chest, the one disadvantage to your clear height difference, whining a little as you try to turn your head away

She giggles at this, but doesn’t release you

“You’re fussy today!”

You almost immediately freeze up, thinking she’s scolding you, but her tone is light and her words accompanied by giggles

She holds you tight, but her grip is not too tight, doesn’t hurt you

“I just wanted to check on you, little one. We’re almost done!”, she promises

You’re so confused…do they all care for you?

Why?

Simply because you’re considered Daniela’s friend?

When no response comes from you, the redhead simply talks again

“Oooo, you cleaned my room! Perfect!”, she coos, giggling when she grabs one of the daggers you found and placed on her desk

Then, something unexpected

You freeze when she leans down, gently pressing a kiss to your forehead

Your eyes nearly go cross trying to see, and your cheeks are bright pink when she pulls away

Immediately, she coos and cups your warm cheeks

“Sit tight, little one!”, she giggles as she swarms off again, leaving you flustered and confused yet again

Standing still for a few moments, you eventually manage to move again, until you stand at the mirror and see the black lipstick mark left on your forehead

For the first time she feels less like your friend, but rather- familiar

Almost like the older sister you always wished you had, the caring and loving kind, the one to protect you from the cruelty of this world and your family

You never got this lucky, sadly

But…it feels so nice, you don’t even brush the lipstick mark from your forehead

Staying in her room, you find there isn’t much to do, really

You don’t want to snoop around, don’t want to touch Daniela’s things without permission

You sit at her desk, try hard not to touch anything of hers

That is, until your eyes catch sight of the little bottle standing on her shelf

Could it be?

You rise from the chair you’re sat on, gently hold the small bottle in your hand

Soap bubbles?

Despite your worry regarding touching her things, you just can’t resist

You unscrew the top and coo at the shape and the soap glistening inside of it

Blowing, your eyes widen at the colorful bubbles now floating through the room

You giggle happily, blowing some more

Never have you felt this happy, this carefree. Never, unless maybe before, carried and held tight to Alcina Dimitrescu’s large and warm body

You playfully poke one of them, giggling as it pops

And another. Another

You blow more, set the bottle down and chase them around the room eagerly

When you manage to catch them all, you blow more, more and more

The beautiful, colorful bubbles move about in the room, and you can’t help but chase them yet again

Only when you’re about to climb the bed to reach the highest ones, the door opens

Startled, you nearly fall off the large, high bed. In fact, you’re sure you do, even squeal in shock and close your eyes, bracing for impact

Only does it never come

Strong arms hold you, catching your body just before you fall

When you look up, you find Cassandra staring down at you, her eyebrow raised, her face smeared with blood as usual

Your bottom lip quivers automatically, assuming you might just be next

Alas, pain does not greet you

In fact, noticing your reaction, she lifts you almost gentle, settling you to sit at her hip. With your height difference, you find you sit even rather comfortably, if not as comfortable as you were by her mother’s hip

You’re rocked, soon find comfort wash over you

You’re so exhausted, having worried for the past hours, cried at every little noise from outside the room

You can’t help but rest your head against her shoulder, can’t help but raise your hand to your face and suckle at the tip of your thumb softly

Perhaps, you will die, as the many villagers and maidens predicted, as your family teased

But you’re so comfortable, so happy to be held for the second time in your life, you can’t bring yourself to care or even to pull away

Listening to the buzzing sounds of Cassandra’s blowflies, you feel your eyes sleep shut and sleep take you, exhaustion and worry at last catching up to you

When you awaken, it’s on top of something comfortable and warm, soft and hard just the right amount

You think you’re alone for a moment, but then voices prove you wrong

Even before you can open your eyes, you recognize Daniela’s voice

“Is she up yetttt? I want to play with her, Mother!”

What?

Then, another voice. Lady Bela

“Will you calm yourself, Dani? You know you aren’t supposed to play with her yet. You’ll just hurt her!”

A scoff. A sound that implies Daniela just stuck her tongue out at her sister and exhaled sharply. Met with a playful shriek

“Nuh uh! I won’t! I hugged her before and she was completely fine!”

And lastly, another voice, deeper and more mature than the one of the sisters

“Calm yourself, dragas, and don’t forget yourselves. Such little humans are sensitive”. She speaks as if she’s looking at one sister directly. Daniela or Cassandra, if you had to guess

And still, you don’t quite understand

You open your eyes and blink away the exhaustion, finding your cheek smudged against a soft, white fabric

Pondering on it for a moment, you recognize it as Alcina’s dress even before you lift your head and find out, to your surprise, embarrassment and slight horror:

You’re right on Alcina’s lap, dozing when you should 100% be at work

You scramble up immediately despite the remaining exhaustion you feel, causing all of their attention to shift to you

The smile Alcina shoots you…you almost can’t take it, it’s so sweet, so gentle

You flinch automatically when a body throws itself against your back, a little too enthusiastic, a little too playful and eager to talk to you again

In your tired state, you’re somewhat shameless, automatically squeaking as you lunge forwards, gripping onto the front of Alcina’s dress as you press yourself against her

She coos only, whereas you hear a few giggles from behind you

Flustered, you merely stay as you are, whimpering and trying to resist the urge to bite into the soft fabric at your face

You find yourself turned though, held gently on top of the tall woman’s comfortable lap. You’ve never felt so small, so little in mind and body, surrounded by women older, taller, and oddly caring

Your eyes meet the dark golden ones of Cassandra, then drop down to her hands, lazily playing with her sickle. She sends you a smile, more genuine than you have ever seen her wear before

Flustered, you turn to watch Bela, draped along the sofa with her younger sister, her head in Cassandra’s lap, her eyes closed as though ready to fall asleep

And lastly, Daniela, halfway on top of her mother’s lap too, smiling and waving at you

Shyly, you wave back at her

You feel a large arm wrap around her, gentle fingers holding you

You’re so confused; what’s happening? Why are you here? Is this the end?- it doesn’t feel like the end. It’s warm and comfortable, happy even

You feel Daniela hug you first, her grip tight at first, but she quickly holds you a little gentler when Alcina reminds her to mind her strength

“We’ll have so much fun together!”, she cheers

You only nod, unsure what she means by this

Then, she turns, and you giggle as she swarms over to Bela upon seeing her asleep. Being the younger sister she is, she shakes her sister’s shoulders roughly, laughing in delight when she’s chased in return

You watch them all for a moment, content to blend into Alcina. Despite somewhat knowing them, you can’t help but feel shy and out of place

Ignoring the two women’s bickering- which eventually drives them to tackle each other and roll onto Cassandra’s lap, who joins in hissing and growling- the tall woman lifts you a little

You find yourself on face level with her, your wide eyes looking into her golden ones

You even see your reflection in them and must resist the urge to wave at it

“Tell me about yourself, little one”, she asks- or demands? You aren’t too sure, but don’t question her either

Being too exhausted and confused to be anything but truthful, you tell her everything, tell her about your family and how they sent you off to die at the castle the moment you outgrew your use

You wish you could tell her more, could tell her of interests of yours, about your friends

But you weren’t encouraged to explore, to express yourself, to define interests, to make friends

As such, you have painfully little information you can provide her with, but she doesn’t seem to mind

Her heart breaks to hear your family abandoned you, yet, a flash of possessiveness sparks within her too

She doesn’t know why, doesn’t know why now; but she must have you

She wants to hold you, day and night, your precious eyes set on her, to keep you safe and happy

But Alcina Dimitrescu has lived long, far too long to play and act coy or insecure, and far too noble and powerful to ask for permission

You’re hers, she has decided, and claims so out loud, too, something you assume the three sisters have known ever since she left you in Daniela’s room, thus the reason the castle’s sadist was so uncharacteristically gentle with you

“You’re mine now, little one”

You know the words should scare you, should make you worry

You don’t fully know what they mean, but you know you’ll embrace whatever is to come, pain and happiness alike

From this day on, your relationship to the Dimitrescu family changes dramatically

No longer employed as a maid, you’re given a larger room, nearby Alcina’s and Daniela’s wing

True to her promise and claim, you are Alcina’s, and everyone knows it

Still getting used to the affection they all effortlessly grant you, you like to stick near the head of the family, often sitting rather quiet and merely cuddling into her

Dinners and breakfasts are shared with them, though being the youngest allows you to stick with at least one member of your new family at nearly at times

When Alcina is too busy to even hold you on her lap, you’re allowed to play with Cassandra, usually chasing or playing hide and seek together

She always wins, but you don’t mind. It’s just nice to have someone to play with. A sister, not only to play with you but ready to snarl at all who as much as give you a mean look

When Cassandra is in the basements, there’s still always the option of being with Bela

You find you sleep best around her, her voice comforting, the quiet atmosphere of her room a nice break from the chaos you and your other two older sisters get up to

Often, you’re allowed to sleep on top of her lap, sucking your thumb idly as you do

Sometimes, she even takes a break and reads to you, or teaches you new things

Daniela is always a joy to be around and often makes time for you, giddy she gets to be an older sister at last

One by one, day by day, they slowly help you understand right and wrong, slowly correct the mistakes made in the past

At dinner, you’re allowed a seat at the table, often even allowed to sit on one of your family’s laps instead when you’re feeling clingy

You get to eat as much as you want, yet never have to empty your plate when you don’t want to

You no longer are made to take the leftovers and sit outside, instead feel the warmth and happiness of a family dinner

With Alcina, there is only one rule: no playing with your food, which especially your two older sisters like to break occasionally while Bela scolds them

Unlike with your family, Alcina never gets scary, though, even when they do this

Instead, she drags giggles from you and Bela when she sighs dramatically, rising from her chair and catching the two sisters before they can swarm off

They’re usually held by the hoods of their dresses like misbehaving cats held up by their scruff, whining about this and that until they promise they will be good and are let down again

Alcina never yells at any of you, never hurts any of you

Bela is never mean to you, never mocks you when you don’t understand what she’s saying

You’re still so young, after all

Cassandra, despite her reputation, never gets rough with you, always protects you from pain

She never grants you a look at exactly what she does in the basements, especially after she told some of it to Daniela once and you had nightmares for a few days

And Daniela is never mean to you, never switches up with her moods around you. She teaches you to express yourself, shows you so many things to help you find what you truly like

You feel safe around them

Do you feel loved? Well, you aren’t entirely sure what that feels like. You don’t ever want to lose them, and know they feel the same way. You’re happy to see them, and you know they feel the same way. You trust them, rely on them, you’d protect them with your life

You love your family, and they love you

As even more time passes, weeks turning into months, you too become more comfortable

In the time spent, you’ve become even more comfortable around them all, especially Alcina

While you love your older sisters, you’ve somewhat turned into a Mama’s girl, wanting to be with her at all times, giggling when she playfully tickles you or lifts you high above your head

The first time you refer to her as this, mama, had her shocked in the best way

Curled up by her side and about to fall back asleep after a nightmare, you let the word slip

“Thank you, mama..”

A tiny whisper in the darkness

A whisper enough for her eyes to widen and a huge smile to spread on her lips

Her little one calling her mama!

You don’t quite recall it in the morning, but when she automatically begins referring to herself as your mama, your heart tightens and tears spilled over

She’s your mama, and she’s the best mama in the entire world!

You love to refer to her as this, too, smiling wildly whenever you get to do so

Alcina never grows tired of hearing it, even encourages you by occasionally asking things like “What has mama’s baby got there?” when you’re about to show her something you’ve made for her or even “How does mama’s little one feel today?”

Soon, she comes up with a new nickname for you, calling you her ��little cub” to differentiate from “little fly”, a nickname often used on your older sisters due to their biology

You don’t mind at all

With mama being the big mama bear, you’re happy to be her cub

With your mama and sisters by your side, you’ve never felt happier

No more are the days of skipping meals, not when you’re sat at the family table, giggling when Daniela and Cassandra once again make a scene, humming happily when Bela occasionally spoils you and feeds you, or simply smiling and holding onto your mama as you’re cradled once you’re full

No more do you have to sleep outside, having your own room

Still, you find yourself hardly sleeping there, preferring your mama’s bed, or even one of your sisters’ beds when you crave their attention or affections instead

And, no longer must you fear, because you know your family will forever look out for you, forever encourage you, forever love you

[bobsyourdylan]

Okay, so – a few thoughts on Izzy’s death. I’m sure other people have also laid this out, but I haven’t stumbled across it yet, so this is partially for me to get my thoughts organized. For the record, I love Izzy – he fascinated me (in a horrified sort of way) in season 1, and then he grew on me significantly in season 2. What a weird little guy. But also – I’m fine with them killing him off, and also with how they did it, because I think it makes sense for the story. But I know that a lot of people are super upset about his death, and also about the way he died. So, a few semi-coherent thoughts on that: 

Why not a sacrifice play?

This writer’s room is so self-aware, so deliberate about engaging with tropes – there is no possible way that they sat around breaking the story of Izzy’s death and no one said “woah, wouldn’t it be symbolic and gut-wrenching if he sacrificed himself for Ed? Or Stede?” No way. So why didn’t they go that route? 

Izzy’s arc in season 2 has been all about becoming his own man, separate from Ed/Blackbeard. Like – that’s what he’s worked towards, this whole season. That is his growth. It would be insulting to take that away from him at the last minute, and make his death purely about Ed and Stede.

Listen, I love a sacrifice arc as much as the next person. But Izzy’s life isn’t about sacrifice anymore – that’s the whole point of his season 2 arc. He has spent decades sacrificing both himself and Ed to the altar of Blackbeard. No more. 

It also means that Ed and Stede’s mourning doesn’t have to be tinged with the guilt of “he sacrificed himself to save me/my partner.” They can mourn Izzy purely for himself, because he is worth mourning. This, I would argue, is the send-off that Izzy’s character deserves.

Izzy’s death wasn’t accidental on Ricky’s part – it wasn’t a stray bullet.

We see from the scene when the crew is locked up in Spanish Jackie’s that Ricky recognizes Izzy. We know from their conversation that, for Ricky, Izzy is the epitome of piracy – Izzy, not Blackbeard, is the legend.

The thing is – Ed and Stede are both in the scene where Izzy dies (I’m not sure if you can see Stede on screen, but the bts photos show Rhys’ position, on what would be the far right of the shot). Arguably, Stede would have been the easier shot – Ricky wouldn’t have had to complete a full 180-degree turn before he could pull the trigger. So why doesn’t he go for Stede, who abandoned him to the tender mercies of Spanish Jackie in the first place? Or Blackbeard, arguably the greatest/most famous pirate alive, with the possible exception of Zheng, who he’s already targeted? Sure, you could argue that he’d going for Ed here… but I don’t think he is. The shot’s too low to be accidentally aimed for Izzy – it would hit Ed’s knee or something, probably. I think that yes, it’s a panicked shot, not well-aimed at all. But if it’s aimed at anyone, I think it has to be Izzy. And at the very least, the symbolism of it is very much not accidental.

For probably the first time since they created Blackbeard, Izzy isn’t just a stand-in for Ed. His significance is his own in this scene – in all of his interactions with Ricky. He’s not targeted because he’s Blackbeard’s first mate (why go for the first mate when you could go for Blackbeard?). He’s targeted because he’s Izzy Hands – because he is significant, powerful, famous, respected in and of himself.

And more than that – this is an arc about the end of piracy. And Izzy Hands is piracy – the show has been telling us from the beginning that piracy is a mixed bag, full of the good and the bad, and Izzy represents that  – represents both the toxic, violent side of piracy, and the side of piracy that he grows into, that he explains to Ricky – piracy as family, home, belonging. Izzy dies, and it hurts, because not only is he a great character, but he represents in one person all of the complicated, hilarious, heartbreakin, violent, loving aspects of piracy – and of the show. But it is so, so important that Izzy dies as himself – not as a symbol or shield of Ed, or Stede, or Blackbeard. Not even as a symbol of piracy, but instead as the active embodiment of piracy – as something/someone who grows, changes, ends. Not as static or passive, but as better than when we first met him, as transformed as Buttons in his own way. 

Izzy’s death sets up a possible revenge arc:

We know that everything in this show ties back to the main relationship between Ed and Stede. Izzy’s death is, I think, significant on its own, for him as a character – but it is also, by necessity, significant to Ed and Stede’s relationship. Namely – it sets up an interesting conflict for season 3 re: a potential revenge arc for Ed. 

Now, clearly they’ve carefully ended season 2 on a relatively high note in case we don’t get a season 3. But we know they’re gonna be terrible at running an inn, and we know there’s unfinished business with Ricky. Ed’s current strategy of dealing with everything that’s happened seems to be “I don’t want to be a pirate, get me out of here” – which, while fair enough, won’t last, because that’s the nature of unfinished business. So, at some point, Ed and Stede are going to need to confront Ricky again. And, if the writers decide to lean into the revenge arc, I’d say the odds are pretty high that, when Ed lays eyes on Ricky again, we get a flashback to Izzy’s death. 

And this sets us up for a pivotal, and necessary, moment in Ed’s character arc: when confronted with pain, loss, negative emotion in general – can Ed deal with it without losing himself? Ed needs a balance between the Kraken, Blackbeard, and Edward, and we see at the end of season 1 and beginning of season 2 how challenging that balance is for him to find, especially when confronted with loss or pain. We can see Ed working towards that balance when he’s interacting with Low – Low’s taunts don’t push Ed to violence, but instead get to Stede. But comparatively, Izzy’s loss is a much greater blow, and at some point, Ed is going to need to confront that.

Plus – we know the writing team are thinking of Izzy’s death at least partially in terms of the mentor/mentee arc, which often confronts the question of revenge – after the mentor’s death, the mentee is required to choose on their own how to go on, what kind of person they want to be. And this often requires a confrontation with both the mentor’s loss and a decision about how far they want to take their desire for revenge.

Why not a cooler death?

Okay — I get this criticism. I do. Izzy is an amazing fighter, we all love that about him. And you can keep most of the above symbolism and still have him die fighting two dozen British soldiers. 

But — again — we are back to the root of this show: Ed and Stede. 

Izzy has two deaths this season: one in the premiere, one in the finale. The first is Stede’s fantasy. Cool swordfight, and Stede triumphs, obviously — but the premise of the fight is that Izzy’s a great swordsman and Stede bests him because now Stede’s a great pirate. This is Stede’s ideal pirate fantasy. 

But Izzy’s actual death is not like this. It is messy and inelegant and painful and no one gets any glory from it at all and Ed is crying with Izzy dying in his arms, and Stede wants to help, goes for bandages, but he doesn’t know what to do and it’s not enough anyways — And this is not a fantasy anymore. This is piracy, and this is the piracy that Ed wants to escape. And it’s important that Stede sees this, sees what Ed is done with. 

And it’s also important that Stede tries to save Izzy. Izzy isn’t just a symbolic barrier between Stede and Ed anymore, to be sacrificed to Stede’s reunion fantasy. He’s his own person, with his own death, and Izzy has grown, yes, but so has Stede.

And by using Izzy’s death to make this point, we both get Stede learning the reality of piracy and growing beyond his fantasy, and the glorious fantasy fight kiss i love you reunion between Ed and Stede (if Ed and Stede had reunited by fighting off dozens of British soldiers, but Izzy had died doing the same, the dissonance would have messed with both the death and the reunion, because we the audience wouldn’t be able to distinguish between the fantasy and reality worlds). And getting both of these is the premise of the show — fantasy and reality both. 

And sure — you can be mad that the show used Izzy in this way. But that is the show’s premise — everything is in service of the protagonists and their relationship. This is not a surprise— it’s been openly talked about since day 1. 

You don’t have to like what the writers did. You don’t have to agree that it was the correct choice. But they have proven to us, time and time again over the last year, that they are self-aware and careful with this show that they know we love so much. So we absolutely owe it, to them and to ourselves, to ask why they made a choice that not everyone may agree with. What is the payoff? Why did they decide to do this thing that they knew would upset fans? Because we know it’s not that they hate us. So what is it? You don’t have to agree that the payoff is worth it. But do the writers, and the show, and yourself the favor of recognizing that there is a payoff here.

[bohemian-nights]

Finished watching “House of The Dragon” for the first time a few weeks age and for the most part I really enjoyed it. But then then I started involving myself in fandom discussions ….is it weird that I thought it was weird how many people shipped Daemon and Rhaneyra? I would like to point out that I’ve not read Fire&Blood yet so maybe their relationship is different/better in the books but.....show wise I haven’t really seen anything to make me want anything they have (in their romantic relationship that is) for myself. Then the fact that he’s her Uncle has always rubbed me the wrong way. Of course people can ship what they want and I’m not trying to shame them or anything like that but it’s just a little weird to me.

I’ve been on the internet for a long while now so of course I know that fictional and real world incest exists and that there are different literatures that have incestuous relationships but for the most part (from what I’ve seen) either the book/show/movie paints it in a bad way or the actual fandom itself points out that it’s weird and unhealthy because it’s incest. I think “House Of The Dragon” may be the first show I’ve seen to do otherwise. Maybe I haven’t been properly “desensitized” to it since this is the first time I’ve ever really had an interest in anything by or based off of George R. R. Martin’s work. So tell me are the relationship(s) different in the books? Better? Worse?

It is very odd and no their relationship isn’t described as any better/romantic in Fire & Blood. In fact you could make the argument that it’s worse considering 1/2 of the passages that Dumbnyra stans argue show Daemon and Rhaenyra’s “love” are when she’s underage🙃

She’s like 8 here and Daemon is in his 20s:

Oh so romantic. Daemon loves his niece so much except gasp he took away his affection once he knew that she was going to be made his brothers heir and not himself:

He comes back though when he realizes he can be closer to the throne if he compromises her and forces daddies hand. Being groomed and having your rep ruined is the stuff of Jane Austen novels😍 She’s 14 here and Daemon is 30:

Does it get better when Rhaenyra is finally legal? Nope.

Here they marry six months after both their spouses die which they claim is “romantic,” but it really reads more like a quickie wedding cause Rhaenyra got pregnant(and if they were really f*cking while Laena is alive why didn’t her dumba** get pregnant with Daemon’s silver haired child to throw off the scent that her children aren’t Laenor’s and why didn’t Daemon get her pregnant if he couldn’t stand to be apart from her and wanted to “protect” her🙃):

They also try to argue that Daemon(after disobeying his wife and queen's orders to save the actual woman he loved) died for Rhaenyra cause he’s taking out her greatest threat:

Even though her greatest threat is Daeron who has an army in addition to a dragon:

Keep in mind this was even before Ulf and Hugh betray Rhaenyra which may or may not have been in that letter, but Daemon for sure knows the greatest threat to Rhaenyra’s safety/reign is Daeron and not Aemond. Aemond was the minor leagues and getting himself “killed” to take him out did little to help Rhaenyra out. She’s most certainly be in dead water after he’s dead because she’d no longer have the dragons needed to win. They’d technically be tied at first, but one of her dragonriders is a child who’d easily be killed. It becomes a 2:3 fight and yeah Addam (bless him cause he actually should’ve left her behind) and Rhaenyra are going down.

And Rhaenyra even considers his abandoning her and saving Nettles an act of betrayal:

They try to use the book to support their ship, but if you read there is nothing romantic about this ship.

Very few prior to this show were hardcore Dumbnyra stans. In fact, most people said Laena was Daemon's greatest love(as a Nettles girl I don’t agree with this), but they screwed her and their relationship over on the show after they race-bent her.

Dumbnyra stans for whatever reason watched the show and thought a man grooming his underage niece (they call the scene where he’s giving her a necklace at 14 romantic) because he wanted to be closer to the throne/his bro was the hottest thing since sliced bread so they’ve said and done any and everything to support their delusions.

Dumbnyra only has the fanbase it does because it’s the only “real romantic pairing” with two white leads on the show thus far. They don’t really care about incest(although it’s a bonus to some of the extremely mentally ill members of their cult) they just like that they are two blonde haired white people. Plus this ship kinda has a built in fanbase(Jonerys, another another dry incest ship. They've not met in the books yet, but it's probably hearing that way if George ever finishes the books🙃).

A great deal of the shippers who do ship Dumbnyra do so because they thought for whatever reason Dumbnyra on HOTD would be Jonerys 2.0 done right since their last ship ended like this😊:

Honestly Dumbnyra shippers set themselves up for failure cause Dumbnyra was never supposed to be this epic romance that they made it out to be in their delusional little heads(a man giving his 14 year old niece jewelry isn’t the romantic serve they think it is and abandoning her in a brothel sure as hell isn’t hot. Those are literally the “best moments” of their ship on screen unless you want to count that beach scene🤣).

Which is why they gloated over Laena being screwed over (and still are obsessed with her despite the fact that she suffered from biased writing), tried to say that older!Dumbnyra have “mature chemistry” when two rocks have more chemistry than they do, why they started spazzing out after choke gate(which up until that point 90% still acted like this ship was the sh*t), and why anytime you bring up Nettles they have a panic attack and pretend like she won’t be on the show 🤣 It’s a sight to see.

I wouldn’t rag on them so much if they weren’t proven to be racist morons, but alas they seemingly can’t help targeting Black characters and Black fans(besides the ones who tap dance for them) with harassment so at this point f*ck 99% of them 🤷🏽‍♀️

[dokidokiliteraturegirls]

YLCE UPDATE NEWSLETTER!! 🐰

 Well. Not actually a news letter, but this is news, and what are postsif not big letters? I originally posted this in the official DDLitG discord server, but I’ll be sharing it here as well in case anyone is interested in my next project~

So, a couple things! First of all, the full roster of characters has been decided! The cast will be made up of 11 students and the teacher, so the main cast, being Altalune's class, will be 12 characters in total. So far we've revealed 9 students (Altalune, Virus, War, Shiro, Weird Machine, Play With Me, Anna Tanohiro, Candace and Ako), so there's 2 more to come~ Their designs will be revealed shortly, as they're pretty much finished. Their students profiles will be hopefully completed soon, and will be posted in my art blog, @yuiwrong, as soon as they are! After all 11 profiles have been posted, I'll post the teacher's and then get to work in the spritework.

In terms of story, the first 3 arcs have been finished~!! I have a rough idea of about 70% of the story now, including character relationships and story beats. I'm writing the story in arcs, just like I did here with DDLitG, except that these will be one right after the other with no filler in between. As I mentioned, the first 3 are already fully planned and written. There's not much I can share without spoilers, but as a little teaser, I'll include a short summary of the setting so you can get an idea of what YLCE is about under the cut~

Sadly I can't yet promise a release date, as the story is still very much in pre-production, and I want to make sure it's properly ready to come out rather than rush its development. But I assure you, it is very actively still being worked on, and I'm constantly making sure it's the best story it can be~ I know updates have been rather slow, and that's why I wanted to make this little newsletter, to let you all know that it hasn't been abandoned! Behind the scenes work has been constant, and even though I don't always have something to show for it, I promise you all it's a project I'm very passionate about, and I will see it through no matter what~ 🥰

Story summary:

Altalune must run away from home after her parents kick her out. Jobless and with no one to fall back on, she only has 1 option left: enrolling into [I haven't named it yet] college. This college provides free accommodations, including a room and all meals. However, this place is extremely competitive, and you can only stay if you're the very best. Every 3 months, the 2 students with the lowest grades are made to fight for survival, through whatever means they deem necessary... even if that means killing one another, as only the winner is allowed to stay. In a class full of bizarre people with supernatural talents, staying at the top won't be easy. Can connections be made in an environment that's constantly pitting you against your peers? And if such connections are made, will they matter once competition sparks? YLCE is a story of survival and competition, as well as bonds and what is needed to break them. It won't be easy to survive, but there's one thing that Altalune keep in mind no matter the circumstances: "Your Life Changes Everything" 

I hope you’re all as excited about this story as I am!! If you want updates, they will be posted in my art blog as they are being made, so look out for that~ and if you have any questions, don’t hesitate to send an ask! Thank you all for your attention, I hope I can make something you all enjoy 💖

-Yui~

[wayward-sherlock]

Heyy, i was wondering if “girl crush” is still in the works??? I LOVED the plot so much but I haven’t started reading yet bc i read SO many abandoned fics and my heart can take it anymore 🫠

hey there !

first of all, i’d like to remind you that girl crush was updated three months ago, which in the grand scheme of things, is not a very long time. in the time since, i’ve had to complete college and scholarship applications, attend school and sports commitments, cope with family emergencies, and deal with my own personal/mental health problems. girl crush is not my overall priority and never has been. i would apologize for putting my own Real Life first except that’s ridiculous.

second of all, i made it clear from the beginning that there was never an update schedule for girl crush. even if there was a schedule, sticking to it takes time, effort, and energy to brainstorm, outline, write, edit, and post in the set time. update schedules are brutal, and i knew from the beginning i wouldn’t have the time or energy to do that. so i’m going to ask that you reflect on your expectations of me - a complete stranger on the internet.

which brings me to my third point. no author sets out to abandon a fic. the only thing that ties an author to their fic is passion and dedication to the story and time to complete it. if any one of those three things dies - which, in real life, happens more often than not - then it just…happens. but authors do not owe it to their readers to update their fics. authors don’t owe anybody anything; and if they are kind enough and the stars align enough for them to share their art - because that’s what it is, is art, not content or whatever other tiktok-esque terms there are - then you just have to appreciate that they were willing and able to do so.

if you’ve read some fics that have been abandoned, then im sorry, but that’s just the way it goes sometimes. i’ve read a number of fics that have been abandoned; i’ve read a number of fics that have taken years in between updates, then update when im no longer in the fandom. it happens. one of the saddest things for an author is to leave behind a story - a universe - that they created with their own blood, sweat, and tears. nobody wants to do that, so please be kinder when talking about abandoned fics - or even other mediums of art, including comics, art series, or other things!

im sorry if this isn’t the answer that you were looking for. girl crush, ctm, mike wheeler vs gay quizzes, inthaf - they are all very near and dear to my heart in different ways, but i just haven’t had the motivation, time, or energy to work on them as of late. i’m determined to finish them at some point, i just don’t know when. and that’s okay. i need you to understand that it’s not my responsibility to make sure you have fics to read; it’s your responsibility to be kind to authors and artists to encourage them to make more art if they choose to. it’s your responsibility to explore more within the fandom space - in a kind, respectful manner - to find other fics to read.

[saiyanwitcher]

Tail-loving anon, reporting for duty 💃🫡

What a finale for part 1, my GOODNESS! We didn’t even see the boys, and yet there’s so much to unpack 🥲

I love that Alonso’s decision to send Max away wasn’t only for protection purposes, but because he wanted him to have a shot at actually being happy and free. The bit about how Max wasn’t afraid to die, but he was afraid to live? I think yanking my still-beating heart from my chest would have hurt less, thanks!

I wasn’t sure how to feel about him surviving the battle bc I was very afraid of what Jos was going to do to him, but his resolve was admirable, and at least he got confirmation that he’d been successful in getting Max and Charles out of there 🥺 and even though I didn’t want him to die for it, I was glad at least to see him come to a swift end— I was really afraid Jos was just going to torture him until he broke! 😭💔

Speaking of Jos… it seems Charles’ assessment of his power wasn’t all that far off at all 😅 which is admittedly not great for our boys, but I am confident that the two of them together are going to somehow unleash all of Max’s crazy potential so he can get his REVENGE (and protect Charles 🥺).

As for Carlos and George, I have no idea what to make of them at the moment except for that they are both on my shit-list.

Part 2 is about to be a universe-wide game of hide and seek with awful stakes, and I can’t wait to see what you have in store for it 🥹

But as an aside, I haven’t forgotten that brief mention of a Torrossian breeding program Jos had going on, and I just feel like that’s going to come up again somewhere… and I’m afraid for what might happen if he finds out about Charles being an eldri who’s also an incredibly compatible mate for Max 🙃

Welcome back tail Anon!

It felt like a really good place to end part 1 🫠 so many questions answered and even more left to work themselves out.

I will not apologize for the angst doing its thing! I love the chest ache and I will continue to hit where it hurts lmao

For Alonso, I went back and forth about how that arc should end, and having him tortured just didn't feel right for both him and Jos. The emperor was pissed as hell, and it was also clear that Alonso was never going to tell him what he wanted to know. A quick and honorable death felt appropriate.

Max's potential and the need to keep Charles safe will be a major plot point for part 2. As for how he gets over that line to break through . . . Charles will play and important but unexpected roll for that 👀🫣

George has now seen what they are really up against and he will be changed by it. For the better or for the worse is still yet to be determined. Carlos on the other hand, when he wakes up, is going to be the only Torossian left on the ship and how will he handle that? Thinking that Max has abandoned him for his younger brother . . . 😶

UNIVERSE-WIDE GAME OF HIDE AND SEEK!!! I love it 😭 The stakes for this could not be higher, and I have so much in store for drama, angst, and fluffy tail goodness I promise.

Oh . . . the Eldri breeding program . . . 😣🤐😉

[gutwrenchflowerbomb]

This post is just me sort of rambling about the thoughts surrounding my new job so feel free to scroll past.

New workspace. This machine was installed a few weeks ago and a few of use were trained in it but I am the primary operator. They haven’t installed my work table yet so I’ve been using that cart. I’m two months into the drastic change in careers and it’s been strange - not just the obvious difference in what I’m actually doing but the shift as well. I don’t have weird start and ends times that change daily. But my set shift begins at 5am, meaning that I’m waking up at 3:30am. That’s the middle of the witching hour. I keep expecting to sit up and see some kind of demon ghost thing looking shocked like “the fuck you doing awake?”

But I’m less stressed, I think. I miss my clients dearly but now I no longer have to be responsible for the lives of 12 people. I can actually focus on myself. And the fact that I can do this job while wearing headphones has allowed me to catch up on podcasts and shit I’d long abandoned due to lack of time/energy. I’ve even made it a goal to listen to at least one new album a day from an artist I like but only know a song or two. I have 10 hours a day to fill so it’s not that hard to do. (I’m open to suggestions btw so if you have a fav band/album you think more people should hear, let me know! I don’t really *hate* any genre, except 90% of the new bro country shit)

My medical insurance kicks in on July 1st, so I can finally go to the doctor and dentist. They’ve had some overtime available that I’ve taken advantage of, and will continue to do so as long as it’s there. Mostly because I need all the money I can get and also - I don’t mind the work. It feels good to be physically doing stuff. I’m not like, building houses or anything but there I’m for sure getting more movement than I was previously. The ONLY downside so far of this job is that it’s very hard to regulate the temperature. I’ve had to buy my own fan to bring in and honestly I’m about to get a second one so I can have it blowing on my from both sides. Ya girl STAYS hot.

I’ve been staying with my mom and it’s been rough. We don’t have the most loving relationship, she gets on my goddamn nerves but I try not to get to frustrated with her because it will only make things worse. Maybe one day I’ll write some essays about it, as my upbringing with her was anything but “normal” but I digress.

The most challenging thing has been the lack of *silence* in the house. Before, I had my roommates. Ut they were hardly home when I was and then they had their room upstairs. We never really got in each others space. Here, that’s not possible. I’m literally sleeping on a twin bed that’s been set up in the dining room since it’s a tiny 750sq ft one bedroom house. And my mom nor Mo work, so they NEVER LEAVE. And neither of them have much variety in the food they eat so I’ve had to adapt to eating much of the same bland poor southern shit I grew up with. Which is good occasionally but man. I can’t wait to have my own kitchen again and cook some Indian food. Or Mediterranean.

My goal is to have my own place by the first of August. Thats plenty of time to have the money for the first few months plus deposit. The biggest issue is not knowing what’s gonna be on the market. Rent, while not nearly as high as places like Chicago and Austin and huge cities like that, it’s still unreasonable for a single income person. Especially when that income is just under 40k a year, pre tax.

Anyway, my hope is that once I get moved into my own place I can finally have the energy and focus to do more creative shit. I have TONS of ideas written down but with no space to do any of them, it’s been depressing. I’ve got buttons and magnets and silly shit all in my big ass head. And not all of it is wrestling related.

Alright I’m gonna stop now. But yeah if anyone read all this I apologize haha. It’s not my usual shit of making jokes about AEW and posting too many pics of Chuck Taylor and Orange Cassidy.

[sweet-lost-husbands]

Caged - Chapter 1 - Medical whump - Whumper turned Caretaker - Omegaverse - Supernatural

Alright, we made it! So this is already posted on ao3 and its still continuing, I'm just writing each chap as I go so any ideas would be greatly appreciated!

{ Synopsis: Dean is sick and not like any omega the world has ever come across but Cas is willing to try and save his life. Only one problem: Dean is feisty and refuses to be helped, each treatment is torture. He fights and runs every chance he gets, hurting himself in the process. (:

Basically, Dean being sick and injured and Cas caring for him. Not consensually tho. Essentially just 'Forced Care'.} 

warnings: See masterlist for each chap warnings

Chap specific warnings: Forceful kidnapping, Non-consensual administration of drugs. Restraints. Needles.

Everything hurt.

Agony was all he knew.

It had been for a while now.

It felt as though his very insides were trying to twist their way through his flesh. Violent ripping sensations that spread to his entire body.

Often, he wondered if plunging a knife in there would dappen it somehow… If anything in this world could make it ease just for a moment.

He had long since got used to covering it up, even now, Dean faked a smile and continued to sip his coffee. It was one of his all-time favorite brands, a little more expensive than he could afford but worth it, nonetheless.

“I’m not lonely,” he said quietly, sitting at their dining table. Usually, he wouldn’t worry about Sam catching onto his pain, but today something was different.

“Yeah, I know.” Sam placed a plate of bacon in front of Dean and then took a seat himself. “It’s just that we haven’t seen Dad in weeks because of business, and I have late shifts in the hospital. None of us are ever really home except you. It’s not like you have a mate or… an alpha, despite your intense heats. The last one almost killed you.”

“No, it didn’t.” Dean shot back.

Sam gave him one of his many bitch faces. “Yes! It did. I was out working, and you told nobody how bad it was. I found you on the floor, writhing like you needed to get out of your skin yet nearly unconscious from the pain, with a fever that way surpassed the normal temp. Your lucky my friend Cas who is a head doctor at an omega stabilization facility had come home with me for drinks that night or you would have been toast.”

Dean brought a piece up to his mouth, ignoring what Sam had just said and savoring the smell before taking a bite. A stray drizzle of grease rushed down from the corner of his mouth. He quickly swallowed the bacon with another mouthful of coffee.

He turned his gaze back to his brother. Something wasn’t right.

“Sam? I thought you told me that you have morning shifts all week?”

“Uh, I do.”

Dean completely abandoned his food, narrowing his eyes on him. He swore he could see tears brimming in Sam’s eyes. Why was he sad?

The silence nudged Sam to continue.

“I took a day off. I need to be here for this.” The last part was barely a whisper. He waved it off. “Just eat your food Dean.”

Dean wasn’t one to let a plate of bacon get cold, so he started back at it. Each piece warmed his insides and made him feel cozy. God, he could live like this forever… he had everything he ever wanted. Sam, Baby, bacon, an actually decent apartment instead of a crappy hotel and hella good coffee—the essentials.

Across from him, Sam kept picking at his rabbit food, playing with it more than eating. It wasn’t like him, but it wasn’t unusual either. The thing that was unexpected though, were the sad smiles that kept flicking on his face every time he looked at Dean.

What the hell was going on? Did he accidentally scratch baby or something?

They finished up and Sam began to put away the plates. “I found something the other day. You know, I think you’d want to see this, Dean.”

“Sure.”

Sam returned, fiddling with his pocket before fishing out a picture and tossing it in Dean’s direction. He made sure he captured the smile that crossed Dean’s face.

He picked it up so carefully in his hands, running his eyes over every pixel with a sad fondness. “Me, you and Mum, at the beach... Your just a baby here.”

“Yeah..." Sam chuckled. "I was pretty small. I don't remember that day but Mom looks so happy in that one.”

Dean nodded in agreement, staring at the image for a while longer. He needed pictures like these… He remembered her vividly but sometimes he couldn’t figure out how certain features looked, her nose, her eyes, her smile, they got distorted in his head from time to time. It was a sweet image really, Mary holding little Sammy in her arms while Dean played in the waves just behind her. She held a smile that was so impossibly bright, it made Dean crumble as he looked. In fact, he was so focused on the image that he almost missed Sam checking his phone and his brother's face saddening further.

“Talk to me.” He comforted.

Before anything managed to leave Sam’s lips, he stood up from his seat and wandered over to Dean, pulling him in for a tight embrace.

They didn’t usually hug.

Sam’s voice was patchy as he spoke. “I’m so sorry, I hope that someday you’ll thank us.”

Dean shoved him off and levelled with him. His tone dropping lower and harsher than intended. “Cut the crap Sam, what’s going on?”

Just at that moment, the doorbell rang, and Sam jumped away, hiding his face from Dean. The room fell sickly silent, and yet it was so loud that it seemed to echo and bounce off the walls, only interrupted by the fleet of footsteps making their way in.

The first thing Dean noticed were the two bulky men dressed in white scrubs and how their faces resembled empathy but also a unique sternness. The next thing that drew his attention was a guy in a suit and trench coat, rather than the usual hospital attire. His eyebrows were creased at just the right angle to scream nothing but unyielding concern.

A foreign part of Dean found his presence slightly comforting but the rest cowered.

He knew what this meant. Where they came from.

He stood, his fists clenched at his sides and a burning feeling of rage bubbled up. He tried to hide it as best he could, but clearly not enough as the orderlies exchanged a glance.

The guy in the trench coat extended his hand. “My name is Dr Castiel Novak but you can call me Cas, it’s nice to formally meet you Dean.”

No, no no no nonono.

“Yeah, well forgive me if I don’t feel the same way.”

He could already see this playing out in his head, and he was NOT going to go. He wouldn’t allow himself to become some vegetable rotting in the Omega stabilization facility for all eternity.

This was exactly what Dad was trying to protect him from. Why he wasn’t allowed to be an omega in the first place.

He knew what happened to omegas in these facilities, how their autonomy was stolen away like a thief in the night, followed by gradual dehumanising treatments designed to get you to yield or break… but perhaps by the time you’d yield, you were already broken. Some part of you forever gone and unrecoverable. That was not the type of life he wanted.

He took a step back.

The bitch had the audacity to take a step closer, cocking his head to the side, acknowledging Dean’s distress, making it almost irresistible not to find a sense of trust in him, even if just from his eyes alone.

His voice was gravely but gentle, “I understand that you've been struggling lately, and we are worried about your well-being and physical health. The higher ups in Omega Care have reviewed your case and there is a warrant out for your stabilization. For your own safety, it has been declared that it would be best for you to receive care in a special omega trained facility.”

Dean took a few more steps backwards until his back pressed up against the wall. Fuck<.i>. He was cornered. His body betrayed him as it began to shake.

He could do it; he couldn’t go there.

His life would be ruined.

Before he had a chance to control his mouth, words shot out. “No! you can’t do that!”

“I’m afraid we can.” He neared again; it was suffocating. Suddenly the whole world was closing in on him. His hands waved around his chest in the universal language of not getting enough air.

Castiel took another step, but Dean screamed to stay away, flinging his arms about trying to control his breathing on his own. He was growing more desperate by the moment as everything sunk in.

“Sam?” He looked to his brother for help but was met with nothing. He was standing on the other side of the room, useless, tears flowing out of his eyes.

“I’m sorry Dean, but you need help.” He said in between wiping the water away. “I’ve seen how you refuse to be submissive even though it’s in your nature, how you refuse to get help during your heats, how dad forced you onto high dose suppressants at an early age and so now your body is all out of whack form being wrongly treated, this way you live, its unsustainable. It will kill you.”

“That- I can explain that, please don’t do this.” He could hear the blood pumping in his ears, he would have hit Sam had there not been orderlies in the room who would use it as another thing to lock him away for—to fix.

Dr. Novak held his hands out in front of him, the palms of his hands facing up, an open gesture to show that he had no ulterior motive. “I know this feels unfair, Dean, but we genuinely believe this is the best course of action for you. With proper care and treatment, you can find the stability you deserve.”

“How dare you.” He hissed towards Sam. He wanted to smash something—to just get away.

“Calm down.” One of the orderlies spoke with authority laced in his voice, trying to maintain a safe environment.

Dr. Novak held eye contact with him, his posture calm and collected like he wasn’t repelled by his anguish. “It’s understandable that you’re feeling betrayal at this time. but we’re here to help you, not punish you. Deep breaths okay, just like me.” He started to imitate the breaths as an example, hoping Dean would follow.

“Go fuck yourself.” Dean cried, pressing his back into the wall, wishing he would just sink into it.

But the Doctor continued, “We get that this is hard to accept but we have your best interests at heart. The facility can provide the specialized care and support you need.”

He had to get out of here. Now.

Dean's eyes darted around the room, searching for an escape route. His heart thundered in his chest, and a sense of urgency welled up inside him. He couldn’t go there, he needed freedom. He’d do anything for freedom.

The two orderlies, strong and composed, stood nearby, their eyes trained on Dean, prepared for any sudden movements.

Dr. Novak’s expression softened, but his resolve remained firm.

“Dean, just come with us, okay? Let us help you.”

“I will never let you help me!”

His head spun, nothing seemed reasonable anymore except for escape. It was his only option.

When their dad got sloppy drunk and left them for weeks on end to fend for themselves after their mother’s death, Dean had stayed because he had to. Sam still needed him. But now, nothing was keeping him here.

He lunged forward, but the orderlies reacted swiftly, grabbing hold of his arms to prevent him. He used every ounce of energy he had to struggle against their grip, his eyes wild with desperation.

“Easy, easy.” One of them grunted.

“Let me go! Pleaseee.”

The orderlies overpowered him, restraining him with gentle but firm strength and eventually his resistance wavered.

He wasn’t strong enough…. Well, that’s what they thought.

“We don’t want to hurt you, Dean, but we can’t allow you to endanger yourself. It’s for your own safety.

“You don't understand... nobody does. I just want to continue living my life.”

Sam spoke up from the back. “Don’t fight them Dean, it makes this harder on all of us.”

How dare he! How fucking dare he!

Dean knew what he was going to do when the time presented itself. So, he took one last glance at their house —at baby —at Sam, focused on the taste of bacon and coffee that still lingered on his tongue, so no matter how long he would be there for, he would remember all the things he loved.

Dr. Novak approached him with empathy, his voice filled with understanding. He took one of his hands and squeezed it, letting him know that he was not alone.

“It's not forever, just a step towards finding the freedom you're searching for.”

There was his opportunity. In a heartbeat, he shifted his weight and flung his elbow straight at Dr. Novak’s face. A small cry escaped the doctor's lips as he staggered backward. Dean turned, dodging the orderlies quick attempt to control him. They were trained —but he was trained better. He’d been taught to fight since the day he was born. His father had made sure of that.

He quickly gained leverage and punched one in the face then kicked the other in the stomach to release his arm. He didn’t need to think before he pelted for the door. Strong forceful hands found their way around his waist and jolted him away. Sam was holding him and goddamnit that kid refused to let go.

“Sam!” Dean screamed breathlessly. “If you don’t fricken let go, I’m gonna —”

His pants and struggles outweighed his words. He was freakishly aware of the orderlies gathering themselves and approaching. He had to do something now, but Sam wouldn’t give.

“Please!” A breath, nothing was happening, “Sam, if you let them take me, I can never forgive this.”

The sting of something sharp being stabbed into his shoulder made him hiss and throw his weight in a last attempt to get away.

He was too late.

“Sammy, please.” He cried, aware of how his body started to unwillingly weaken. “Don’t—” He felt himself go limp in his brothers’ arms; a stray tear rolled down his cheek. “Don’t let them take me.”

Dr. Novak's remorseful face despite the blood that flowed down from his nose, was the last thing Deean saw before his eyes forced themselves shut.

~

When he edged on consciousness once more, he started to hear voices around him and feel the sensations around his body. Something was pressing against his waist then the length of his legs, a second later it was pulled away. A persistent beeping faded in and then some voices.

“Good.”

Oh god, he recognised that voice—Castiel. That son of a bitch. He wanted to wrap his hands around that doctor and squeeze. Hard.

Dean tuned into the conversation. Perhaps it could offer some information he could use as leverage.

“Run the measurements up to the manufacturing sector, tell them I don’t care about costs, I just need the equipment mentioned in my previous email. Tell them that it must be the perfect quality and I needed it yesterday!”

“Yes, of course, Cas. I have also put the rest of Mr Winchesters team on standby, they will come within moments notice if you press the button.”

“Thanks Gabe.”

Dean could hear a set of footsteps fade then stop. The screeching of a heavy door as it was opened and then shut once more, not failing to miss the dreadful sound of it locking. His body betrayed him, he could feel as panic set in. He was completely trapped and without escape.

He hated that the beeping from the machine beside him immediately increased, which drew Castiel’s attention.

“Dean?” He could tell by the way Castiel had said it, that it was filled with worry and a hint of dread. That only made Dean so much more furious. He didn’t want to be pitied, he didn’t want to be looked down upon, he just wanted to go home.

A what-was-supposed-to-be comforting hand came to rest on his shoulder. White hot anger boiled up in Dean so fast that he shot his eyes opened and lunged. Firm restraints restricted his actions and to his dismay, no matter how much he struggled they didn’t give.

No no no no!

Cas took a step back, calm as he fucking aways was, that prick. “Dean! Dean, stop!”

Some weird feeling hinted on the surface, something about his commanding voice made the words linger on the tip of his head. But it was only slight, barely even noticeable and Dean was able to power through it and keep struggling.

Needed freedom…At any cost… … can’t be here… not a weak omega made to be bred.

Cas was quick to fasten all the restraints so now he could barely move and then throw himself on top, trying to halt Dean’s desperate movements with his weight.

Again, the strange feeling pulsed, too small to truly understand it but enough for him to recognise that something was different. Perhaps Cas’s body was kind of warm against his.

“Dean.” Castiel said firmly.

His head shifted back. No no no no no.

He struggled.

He wouldn’t give in; his father would be furious. He was a solider, he wasn’t allowed to be weak—to submit.

Cas spoke with urgency, boarding on the edge of begging. “You must stop. We are trying to lean away from giving you any drugs, but we will if we have to. You understand we cannot let you hurt yourself.”

Dean could barely make out the words behind the thick layer of hatred he had for him—this place.

He almost wanted to cry at the sound of a small crowd rushing in. From the little that he could see whilst struggling, they all looked like headless chickens. Some—most, found their way over and began to help hold him down. He hated it.

Must get away must get away mustgetaway

“Cas!” One man yelled in a heavy English accent. “What do you need?”

“Stop Dean, please.” But the man underneath him, never wavered his defence. “Goddamnit. Alright Ketch give him the sedative.”

There was uncertainty in the other man’s voice. “But Sir…”

Cas cut in, “I fucking know, but we are out of options here.” He paused as Ketch began to administer the sedative. “And you.” He pointed to a red-haired woman currently holding Dean's forearm down. “Tell Gabe to hurry the fuck up, I don’t think he'll survive another dose.”

Was that worry in his voice? Did he generally care? Fuck him!

They all eased off as Dean became limp once more.

Originally Omega Care wanted them to stay at a facility but once it was seen that Dean was much worse than previously thought, they allowed Cas to treat him at his own house as long as it was properly accommodated to Dean’s needs.

The house itself was spacious, the walls were an off-cream colour except one which was a faded green. Most of the floor was empty bar a couple of medical cabinets, draws, chairs and the bed Dean was in currently. The rest was going to be filled up with new medical machines which were tailor made to Dean’s measurements.

There was a widow overlooking the estate with a nice garden and pool, that maybe one day Dean could have the luxury of going in and a meeting room off to the side.

There was a one big door on one wall which was the exit and a stream of smaller doors on another. The first and last were bathrooms while every other was a bedroom for Dean’s new team of professionals. Cas’s room was in the middle and the biggest since he owned the place. It would be a nice place to stabilize the omega boy. Nicer than some facility.

A taller member of the team which held a badge with the name ‘Benny’ on it, spoke up from the crowd. “Poor mate doesn’t realise how badly he’s hurt and that by struggling he’s just making it worse.”

The all seemed to mumble in agreement.

Cas moved away and then turned to address all of them. “Before you all came here, you got the briefing on the patient.” Their eyes wondered over to Dean unconscious, looking far to pale and vulnerable and then back to him.

“But now I shall give you the more accurate and updated status of the patient.” They all seemed to know what that meant, that he was worse than previously thought.

Regardless, Cas continued: “Dean Winchester, aged 32, male, submissive omega. His father John Winchester was arrested earlier today for neglecting and abusing Dean in his early childhood and then throughout his life. It is estimated that he gave Dean a heavy dose of suppressants from an early age, which completely wrecked his system. Then possibly a ton of other meds in order to hide the damage that he had caused. There's also suspected brainwash, where Dean doesn’t think of himself as an omega and is severely sacred and hating towards alphas. A lot of stuff remains unknown about his case and history, so there could be many complications.”

Their faces had all saddened.

“It was the hospital who reported him to Omega Care after an almost fatal heat. The overall damage that has occurred throughout his life makes him not able to: react to Alpha commands, drop, be submissive—and in most instances, it even causes him distress and fear… Either way, as a result of this, the internal and irreversible damage to his body along with the fact that he hasn’t received any neutralizing alpha pheromones to counteract his overactive omega ones, his hormone levels are declining rapidly. It suspected that with a dialogises like this, he won’t last for more than two weeks and it’s our job to change that.”

Cas took a breath, hardly believing what he was going to say next.

“Usually the omega hormone 'Omedicstrone,' sits between 72-100 in a normal omega, anything below 50 his considered dangerous, well Dean’s is at 15. Its by far the worse case ever recorded. If we can’t get Dean to fall into submission and soon, his body will start failing him. Omegas are designed to be submissive—some more than others and by not, it can cause extensive harm.”

“Poor sod.” One guy muttered.

“Now this won’t be easy—hell he doesn’t even respond to anything that usual omegas respond to, but we are here to try to help him. Every single one of you is an Alpha so that’s a start, we’re hoping that will begin to revert his mind back to his natural state and give us hopefully a small chance for his defences to weaken. Now what we are going to have to do to him, is not going to be pretty and there’s a high chance he’ll even hate us for it, so if anyone wants to leave then the door is behind you.”

Nobody left.

And so, it was sorted, these were the people who were going to try to save Dean Winchester.

[kageyuji]

his teammate has a crush on his s/o

⤷ suna, iwaizumi, bokuto, tendou ; [gn!reader] — part 1

TAGS: jealousy, fluff(?), swearing, the teammates were written a little ooc for the plot

NOTES: if you reblog I’ll give you my first born child in return, please and thank you <3

━━ SUNA

although surprisingly good at acting fine and saying that he was perfectly calm, he wasn’t immune to jealousy in the slightest

but he wasn’t a complete dumbass either

and he didn’t know why atsumu seemed to think that he was

of course, atsumu had a tendency to flirt with anything that breathes and has a heartbeat, but suna couldn’t shake the feeling like something with off

but he knew that you loved no one but him, so he tries not to let atsumu’s jokes and teasing get to him

until he realizes that maybe... maybe it wasn’t completely harmless

The flirting was a fairly common thing at this point. Never too heavy, just little winks and cocky smiles sent your way, along with the occasional flirtatious compliment.

“C’mon, I’m just sayin’, I could treat you so much better than Suna can.”

What.

While he didn’t like any of it, that was where Suna drew the line. He didn’t say anything at first, he didn’t react at all except a furrowing of his eyebrows.

He didn’t really know what to do — he sat there for a few moments, trying to figure out if he’d heard Atsumu right and then letting that fact sink in. And then he was walking over to the other guy.

Suna had seen the expression on your face. You looked confused to say the least, trying to figure out what Atsumu had meant. Because surely he hadn’t meant what it seemed like he was saying... right?

“Come again, Miya?” Though his tone sounded somewhat bored, it was laced with hostility.

Atsumu’s face dropped at the sound of your boyfriend’s voice. It took him a few moments to regain his composure, blinking a few times and smiling.

“I didn’t mean it like that, I was just jokin’ arou-”

“Hm, you aren’t funny though.” Suna said in the same half-bored tone. He stepped closer to you, looping his arm around your waist and pulling you closer to himself.

“It’s harmless flirting, it’s a joke. What, am I not allowed to joke around anymore?” He smiled, though he was clearly nervous.

Suna set his jaw, “Not with my partner, no.”

━━ IWAIZUMI

he didn’t get jealous often, he trusted you so he could usually bite down his insecurity easily

but it’s not like anyone would hit on you when mr. biceps was with you anyway

nevertheless, he doesn’t like the way mattsun speaks to you — he knows that mattsun has a somewhat unconscious tendency for dirty jokes or being unknowingly flirtatious

and he doesn’t mind usually, but iwaizumi swears there’s some times whenever the flirtatious comments seem a little too frequent

but you haven’t stated that you were uncomfortable, so iwaizumi told himself that he could grin and bear it

everyone has limits though

Iwaizumi could have sworn that Mattsun was laying it on a lot heavier now that he didn’t think your boyfriend was still within earshot.

But of course this was all just Iwaizumi overthinking things. That was all... wasn’t it? The last thing he wanted to do was to be overbearing, to be controlling, to make you uncomfortable. So he held his breath and tried to focus on anything except your laugh.

“You can come over tonight if you want, I need to study and-”

“Y/n has plans tonight, actually.” Iwaizumi cut in, and when he turned around he was glad that he had.

It wasn’t that you looked exactly uncomfortable, but it wasn’t like you wanted anything to do with the conversation either. A smile crossed your face at the sound of him chiming in, and you took a small step closer to him.

“It’s just studying, Y/n can help me-”

“I said that Y/n isn’t helping you do shit, alright?”

Mattsun didn’t say anything in response, just swallowed thickly, nodded, and walked away. You hadn’t seen Iwaizumi get so bothered by something like that — and Iwaizumi wasn’t expecting himself to either, but the expression on your face whenever he’d turned around caused him to abandon most of his filter.

“Are you ok?” You asked.

He took a deep breath and turned to you, his face relaxing. “More importantly, are you ok?”

━━ BOKUTO

he’s oblivious sometimes, too caught up in looking at the big picture to realize smaller things going on

which isn’t always a bad thing, but whenever he looked past the way akaashi was being just a little too friendly with you it was

it didn’t last long though, and once he had the idea planted in his head it was stuck and wasn’t going away any time soon

so naturally he was a little more mopey, although he didn’t say anything yet

that was until akaashi started getting closer to you, and you didn’t even seem to notice that

“Oh hey, Y/n! We can go someplace after school and study for a while. Uh... it’s just, you mentioned a while ago that you needed help in one of your classes.”

Bokuto frowned at his friend’s words, watching as you smiled and thanked the setter. The worry ate at him, but it wasn’t even jealousy at this point, just something like sadness. You agreed and it painted Akaashi’s cheeks pink, spread a smile across his face.

“But, Y/n...” Bokuto said, his voice almost a whine, though it fell quieter at the end of his sentence.

You looked over to him, seeing the pout and expression in his eyes. Akaashi seemed to notice it too, asking Bokuto if everything was alright.

“Yeah, Kou?”

“Don’t you want to go somewhere with me after school?” He said, looking up at you with hopefully eyes. You walked over to where he was sitting and reached to grab his hand.

“As much as I would like to, I really need to study. Akaashi was nice enough to-”

“Akaashi this and Akaashi that,” The whine in his voice was fleeting now as he came to realize just how unnecessarily kind his friend had been to you lately. “spend time with me, baby.”

The setter seemed a little more alert than he had been a moment ago, eyes wide and barely breathing. Bokuto’s eyes landed on him, and though his eyes were usually warm and kind, they now held a level of hostility you’d not seen before.

Akaashi was making up an excuse to leave quickly, telling you that something had come up and that you couldn’t study.

“...and maybe you shouldn’t spend so much time around him.”

“Huh, why?”

“No, I mean, you can- you can choose your friends and all, but just remember I’m your boyfriend.”

“I know, Kou, wouldn’t have it any other way. That date you offered though sounds good, anywhere in mind?”

━━ TENDOU

tendou gets jealous a fair amount, although none of his jealousy is unfounded

he’s not controlling or possessive though — he trusts you not to do anything, he just doesn’t trust other people

of course, there’d been some rumor started about how your whole relationship had been fake for one reason or the other, but now the secret was out so you’d broken up

so now these types of situations got more frequent, but if he sees you in a situation where someone is getting just a little too friendly, he’ll step in without another thought

it’s a little different whenever it’s his teammate though, especially when it’s ushijima

he tried not to let that get to him though, telling himself that it’s just like any other random person

“Y/n... could you help me?” Ushijima asked, laughing sheepishly.

But of course you smiled and agreed, then walked over to him. Tendou didn’t know what it was, honestly didn’t care, he just didn’t like how much it bothered him.

Alone, it was harmless, sure. But with everything else he’s been doing lately...

“Also, Y/n, I was wondering if I could ask you something? There’s this-”

“Y/n is busy that day sorry!” Tendou cut in, quickly turning around to look at the two of you. A smile was spread across his face, though nothing but hostility in his eyes. “They have plans with me.”

“Wait, what day?” You asked, not remembering any time recent that the two of you had planned on going somewhere.

“I dunno, whatever day he was about to say. You’re my partner after all.”

He smiled at you. Then his index finger was under your chin and he was pecking your lips. Heat rose in your cheeks at that simple action, but you tried to ignore it.

“Oh. I didn’t know that you and Tendou... I apologize, that-”

“It’s ok,” You laughed. “Half of the school still believes that we aren’t dating.”

Tendou huffed, then stepped closer to you and grabbed your hand. “But we are, and I would very much like to kiss you in public so people can see that. C’mon, where do you think there’s the most people right now, angel?”?

[wint3r-h3art]

Baby Step | College!Shangqi x Reader

@aliiiyyaaah asked: soooo what if the reader also has like a break up when she was around 18 and because she has attachment/trust/ abandonment issues she never dated again and shang chi tries to prove his love for her after someone tells him the reason as to why she is the way she is? idk or something like that anything is cool 😹

@moitiedemoncoeur​ asked: I was wondering if I could request something for Shang-Chi x Reader with kissing prompts? 1) almost kissing before turning away from each other & 2) slow and drawn out kisses where neither wants to let go. thank you! :)

Warning: None. A bit angsty at the beginning with a happy ending (very on brand of me) I’m using Shaun before this is before the even of Shang-Chi. 

Word counts: 1.2k

A/N: Both of your requests just seems fit, so please don’t mind me if i combine them. Sorry this takes so long. I didn’t know how to start or end this, so now it becomes an open-ended sort of drabble. I hope it’s ok. I’m sorry again for take so long going through requests. I hope this is what you’re looking for. No beta. Whatever mistakes are mine. If you enjoyed this, comment & reblog is greatly, greatly appreciate it.

“Tell me why you hate me,” Shaun looks at you as you try very hard to ignore him. The thing that you don’t get about Shaun is his persistence in getting an answer out of you. You haven’t really said no, yet you haven’t really said yes to him either. 

“I don’t hate you, Shaun,” you mumble as you close the textbook. You’re thankful that the library is quiet at this hour. 

“Then why are you ignoring me?”

You look at him before you’re looking down at your fingers. You noticed the flaking of the nail polish on your fingers from all the time you’re picking at them. You’re not sure about it yourself. A part of you is terrified of letting him in. 

Shaun has always been a sun to your cloudy days, but sometimes he shines so brightly that you’re terrified to get burned by him. You know he’s not like the other guys, but after being broken-hearted so many times, you’re becoming more guarded to let anyone in. Your last long-term relationship left you emotionally drained, and physically tired of simply being letting anyone that close again. Though it has been months, time doesn’t really heal the scars completely.

“I’m not ignoring you, Shaun. I-I just have a lot to do. My mid-term is coming up and I--”

“You know, I wish that you could just stop and tell me the truth for once,” he cuts you off. His expression suddenly changes to a serious one. You gulp, feeling like your heart is about to burst at that moment. 

Those soft, warm amber eyes burn into you, catching you right in the act. You hate lying to him, but no matter how many times you tried to run the scenarios in your head, you just can’t bring yourself to give into him. No matter how many nights you spent thinking about his smiles, his laughs, or the way his hands caresses yours whenever he handed you back your notes. Every touch feels electrifying, yet your stubbornness prevents you from just accepting the fact that perhaps someone as nice and as good-looking as him wants you.

“I am being truthful.”

“Bullshit.”

“Excuse me?” you’re clearly taken aback by this. 

“You’re such a liar.”

You open your mouth about to say something, but nothing comes out except an exasperated noise as you look at him stunned.

“You told me one thing and act like it never happened.”

You swallow hard at this. It’s true that you and he shared a kiss one night at a mutual friend’s house party. It was a nice kiss, you admit, but then you realized that deep, deep down you will never be able to reciprocate that same kindness and love he has shown you. It felt like you’re taking advantage of him alone.

“Please, don’t say that,” you manage to get the words out. You can feel your chest tightens at the thought of hurting him intentionally, but what can you do when you can’t seem to pull yourself together and allow him in fully.

“Then why are you keep lying to yourself about us?” 

You finally look up to meet this gaze. You didn’t realize then that you’re crying before he reaches out and wipe your cheek with his fingers. His callus fingers feel rough on your skin, yet it feels comforting in a way.

“I don’t know,” you say breathlessly before more tears spill down on their own. It feels like a floodgate of emotion just burst out of you the moment you admit to yourself that you do want him so damn much. 

“I-I’m just scared of letting anyone in, y’know. The last time I get my guard down, I was taken advantage of in every single way that I don’t think I can trust anyone again.” You don’t understand the words that came out of your mouth, but the more you talk, the more you feel so vulnerable. All of the armor and fortress you build up to protect yourself is slowly crumbling down.

Shaun sighs and brings your hand to his lips. The kiss feels almost featherlike the way his soft lips brush against your knuckle. You can feel your cheeks warmed at that. For a man his size, he has the softest touch, you thought.

“I know it’s not reassuring to you, and I’m sure you heard the bullshit words so many times before, but please believe me when I say this: I will never hurt you. I’ve never wanted to make anyone happy as I want to make you happy. You’re the sweetest, kindest, most beautiful, intelligent person I’ve ever met. Every time I’m with you, I feel like I can let go of all of the pretenses and just be myself around you.”

“Please don’t say that.”

“Say what?” he asks, his hand covering you before he gives you a slight squeeze. “The truth about how much I like you?”

“You’re just infatuated with me, Shaun,” you let out an uncomfortable chuckle amidst all the tears. 

“You don’t get to decide how I feel about you when you don’t even know how you feel about me yourself.”

“Shaun…” you utter softly as he leans in closer, pressing his forehead against yours. His eyes close as if he’s trying to savor your scent. His breath smells of caramel and coffee, sweet just like he is. You wouldn’t expect any less of him.

His lips slowly close in on yours, and you can feel yourself tremble in his arms. Your heart beats heavily against your chest the closer you are to him. His warmness radiates to you like a furnace in the mid of the autumnal wind. For a brief moment, it feels perfect. 

Yet, you turn away.

“I-I’m sorry.”

“No. No, don’t ever apologize. I shouldn’t,” he clears his throat. “I shouldn’t have force--”

“Stop right there,” you say firmly. This time it’s Shaun that’s staring at you. Shocked.

“You didn’t force me to do anything.”

“But I didn’t ask you or any--”

“And I didn’t say no either,” you cut him off. You look down on your hand as you begin to pick at your nails again. “I wanted it too...I’m just scared you know.”

“Then let’s take it slow. I’m willing to work for your trust, y’know?”

You look at him briefly, shocked to hear his offer. “What if it takes months?”

“Then it takes months.”

“Shaun, please be serious.”

“I am. I don’t mind waiting for you.”

“And this is why you shouldn’t. I feel like I’m taking advantage of you.”

“Well, it wouldn’t count as that when I am your willing victim,” he smirks, and you cannot help but sigh, trying to hide that small, shy smile from him. Only Shaun is able to make you smile admit crying.

“Small step,” you reiterate and you can see his expression change into a warm bright smile once more. He reminds you too much of a Gold Retriever.

“Baby step,” he repeats before placing a chaste kiss on your lips.

You and him look at each other briefly before you are the one who leans into hims this time. Your arms wrap around his neck. His tongues glides against yours. Time seems to stop at the moment. It feels as if the world has dissolves around both of you. It feel exhilarating to be wanted and needed by someone like him. You don’t it then, but when Shaun pulls away, you both are breathless and panting. Shaun’s face is flushed. His lips is a bit swollen and red. Your arms are still around his neck, and he wouldn’t want them in any other way, except for when you see people starts pouring into the library. Your private moment shared between Shauns soon cut short.

“Baby step,” you mumble softly to yourself as you withdraw away from him.

“Baby step,” he echoes, smiling at you as he helps you gather your text books.

[cinnamonest]

//some horrendous gaslighting

I love my stranger-to-noncon very much but I don't give enough attention to consensual relationships taking a turn for the worse, or utterly toxic and abusive boyfriends and Kaeya is the perfect candidate for that so here we go.

-----

I've mentioned before the Kaeya would be exceptionally violent in comparison to other yanderes, but it's important to note that he's also among the most emotionally sensitive, and those two things do not go together well.

Not sensitive outwardly, of course, he's spent years developing that personality of his as a defense mechanism, can easily pretend he doesn't care about anything, but deep down that abandonment complex and those insecurities are strong and easily triggered. Some of the ways it manifests are mild, like how he gets overly attached to you within a week of knowing you, commits and tries to move way too fast even in completely mutual and consensual relationships. The kind of guy that suggests moving in together a week into the relationship, and dropping I love you so early on that you're left to merely blink in surprise because you barely know each other, but under the pressure and awkwardness you find yourself stuttering out a reciprocation, even though it's quite untrue. Guilt-trips and pressures his way into fucking you within a couple of days.

He's a very different person behind closed doors, it comes out maybe a month in when he lets the walls drop and lets himself trust you. He's more vulnerable, sweeter. Oddly... Eager to trust. It's like he desperately wants someone he can latch onto and show some vulnerability around and chose you to be that someone.

But also different in other ways. More... Bitter. More grumpy. More immature.

He's not sensitive in general, he doesn't really care about what most people say or do, but that sensitivity comes out once he's attached to a person, which happens rather quickly. You start noticing it rather quickly in a mutual relationship, and it likely shocks you honestly that he's so... immature. You spend the day with one of your friends -- just one, catch up with them, haven't seen them in a while... and when you get home things are rather quiet. He's usually a very talkative person, so you can't figure out what's wrong. Maybe something bad happened, but he insists no, it's fine. There's nothing wrong. And then you catch the last part, much quieter, spoken under his breath in that lighthearted tone he speaks in, yet with a bitterness to it.

You wouldn't care anyway, you're too busy with your friends.

It takes you by surprise at first because holy shit, really? It seems so petulant that it can't possibly be real, but... Maybe he really did have a bad day and is just getting his anger out by directing it at the first thing he can. That's not right, but hey, everyone has weak moments where they do some bad things. Besides, you weren't there for him, so he feels worse right? Still, you spent every day the past month except this one day with him... No, it's just poor timing, that's all.

Until it happens again. And again. And he swears he likes your friends, smiles at them, but it... Looks forced. Always complaining that you spend so much time with them and completely ignore him. Do you even care? Do you value the relationship at all? You try to not get angry and be rational, but still defend yourself because you spend almost all of your time with him don't you? You can't get much out before he just huffs and stomps away, rolls his eyes (well, you assume he rolls both of them, you can't tell but-- nevermind, not the point) and gives you a cold shoulder. Until you apologize, then it's like the switch has flipped back on, there's love and smiles and warmth and hugs again.

It starts to get on your nerves. You start to wonder if maybe this isn't healthy for you, if maybe you should end things, but you decide to give him another chance, right? We all make mistakes. He's under a lot of stress. Just... It'll be fine.

And the first time it gets physical he swears it's an accident. It leaves an ugly scar. You're going out because come on, it's my family, I haven't seen them in forever.

It just happens, he explains, it's unintentional, emotions get channeled through the vision like that. Comforts you as you sit on the ground crying and clutching your arm that he grabbed as you walked out the door, skin darkened and purplish from the freeze that's seared through a layer of your skin. He sighs and says he's sorry, really, he feels horrible already, so don't get mad, ok? He already feels terrible enough... Don't be mean. He didn't mean it. Don't be mean. Don't be fucking mean about it, stop fucking crying. You're making him feel worse.

He seems genuinely sorry, you tell yourself. It's not his fault. You can't blame him. It's ok.

It's harder to excuse the next time it gets physical. Maybe freezing last time was unintentional, and maybe it hurt, but you weren't terrified like this. A hand around your throat is different.

But can you blame him? You were threatening to leave. Honestly, you weren't approaching it healthily, you weren't trying to actually have a serious talk, you were trying to guilt him and gaslight him and it's honestly emotionally abusive, you know? You're the one in the wrong here. How selfish and cruel. How can you do that and not even feel guilty?

It makes you rethink. It makes you question your own sanity. And it makes you apologize. Makes you say you didn't mean it. You find yourself feeling dizzy, disoriented, like everything isn't real and everything is too much. You try to sleep it off.

And he doesn't like delving into the past. He tries to avoid it. Tries to not think about it. Doesn't even really tell you anything until nearly a year in, a drunken confession of sadness and misery. It makes you feel guilty somehow. Poor thing. He's been through a lot, you tell yourself. Maybe you should be more patient and understanding, help him work through it. You can fix him, per se, can't you? Sure, people say that never works, but... He just needs love, really, it's not like he's that bad.

He hates bringing it up like this even more. It just feels weak and vulnerable but it comes out anyway. You're threatening him again, and honestly, that's a sickening thing to do considering what you know, how can you be so vicious?

You're just like everyone else, aren't you?

You're just going to abandon him like this was nothing. You don't care at all. You're heartless. Ungrateful. He's done so much for you. And this is how you repay him, huh? Disappointing, honestly. He thought you were special. Kind. Understanding. Didn't realize you were just as cruel as everyone else in his life, aren't you?

He just has this way of making you doubt yourself. You pull at your hair and cry. I'm going insane. You keep the thought to yourself, but you fall to your knees and promise you're really sorry this time. He sighs. Fine, he'll give you another chance. He's a patient man. You just need to work on yourself, become a less toxic person.

But apparently that's not enough, and eventually you get dumped.

It comes as a surprise. But he says he's had enough of you being so emotionally manipulative and neglectful. You hardly ever spend time with him (like, only 29 days a month? Unbelievable!). You cry and try to make him feel bad, when the things he does aren't that bad. You always claim to be too tired to fuck. You try to gaslight him into thinking all that's acceptable. It's toxic and abusive, so, he's done.

You find yourself in shock. Confusion. It feels unreal. The first thing you worry about is if you can even find a new boyfriend... Your body is completely littered in freeze-burn scars by now, after all.

Were you really in the wrong? You're not too experienced in relationships, maybe he's right about everything he said... Maybe you really did him wrong...

Which is why you come crawling back. Crying. Apologizing.

Exactly as planned.

So he sighs and agrees. Fine. You can have another chance.

The second time, the third time, he always forgives you and takes you back. Even though you don't deserve it. He just loves you so much, you know? He keeps forgiving you.

Until one day you don't show up.

When you leave that time, you seem almost angry. You don't cry this time. Your hands ball into fists and for once, for the first time, as you storm out, you say--

Fine.

Unusual, but you were always moody like that. Odd choice of words. No matter, it's not like you're actually fine with it, you'll come crawling back any minute now.

It's already been several hours. Why aren't you at his doorstep already? Did he make you feel that bad? Maybe he went too far... You're probably just at home crying or something. You'll come back by tomorrow morning.

You don't.

Ok. Maybe you feel too guilty. Maybe you're reflecting on how awful you've been. That would take some time to get over, since you've done so many bad things. It won't be long before you come back.

A day passes. Two days pass.

What's taking you so long?

He finally swallows his pride. Maybe you're being stubborn. Trying to make him feel bad. Yeah, that's something you'd do. Or maybe you're trying to make him feel all alone, take advantage of the one thing you know bothers him. How mean. But he loves you. You know that. So you'll appreciate it when he checks on you, apologizes for maybe going too far, and he really loves you, he loves you so much, so how about you two just go home and forget this ever happened and have lots and lots of makeup sex and cuddle? And then you can tell him you're sorry and love him too and promise to stay forever? He's already got the speech practiced a few times in his head walking over to your place, the one you haven't really lived in for a while now since he demanded you basically move in with him. All your clothes and stuff are at his place now. You would have taken that with you if you ever actually intended to leave, so clearly this is a ploy to get him to come to you, as if that wasn't already obvious.

Your eyes narrow when you open the door and your face contorts with anger. And you snarl that you've had enough. He wants you gone so much, fine, you're more than happy to oblige, you say. You're done. You don't even need your shit, keep it, you'd rather lose your stuff than set foot in that place again. You finally came to your senses and you're fucking done.

You say nasty things. You say he made your life a living hell and you're happy to be rid of him.

And then you say something worse. Something that sets something deep inside off. Something that feels like a stab to the gut.

You say if you'd known the truth about him you would have kicked him out a long time ago.

Maybe it's not about the same thing. Not meant the same way. But it feels too familiar nonetheless.

You see him freeze up. He just stands still for a moment. Not saying anything. Face blank and empty. His eye twitches.

You couldn't care less. Besides, you already have a new boyfriend, one that's nice to you, you tell him with a prideful spite in your voice. One that doesn't have fucking issues. You're not a therapist, you say, and you tell him to figure out his problems on his own, and you slam the door in his face.

Or, you try to. He catches the door before it can close with one hand. Grabs your arm with the other.

For once he doesn't say anything, not until you make him. Just grabs you, drags you down the street by your shirt. It nearly chokes you, but you manage to start to scream. He slams your back into the nearest building, grabs your shoulders and says to shut the fuck up or I'll break your fucking arms. You go wide eyed and scared tears run down you're face. You're scaring me, you plead. Let me go.

But he doesn't. You figure maybe you can talk sense into him when you get there. You don't realize how far gone he is, you don't think that this might be the last time you set foot outside, the last time you see the sun not through a window. You don't think any of the things you'll wish you had down the road.

You've had rough sex before. Not quite like this, though. You can't breathe. You kick and wheeze and cry and claw at the hand around your throat and desperately gasp for what little air you can get in. He only lets go when you black out, lets you take a few breaths, then does it again. You're still so tight. New boyfriend must not have measured up, huh. It's raw and dry and it hurts. You whimper and you cry and you finally apologize like you should have days ago.

And yet, most importantly, you cum. See? You love him. So say it. Say it already. Come on. You do, you stutter, it's quiet and scared, but he smiles nonetheless.

It's ok. He knows you're sorry. He knows you didn't mean those awful things you said. You would never actually abandon him. You're different. Different. Special. Not like everyone else. You won't leave. You won't just leave him somewhere and disappear, you won't die out of nowhere, you won't kick him aside and leave him alone, you're the only person who won't. Different. That's why he loves you so much. You would never do any of that.

You just need help. You're so emotional, you're really not emotionally stable. Controlled by your wildly changing emotions. They make you say things you don't mean. Do things you don't really intend to do. Things you'll just regret if he didn't intervene and help you.

They make you vulnerable to other people. You're so easily controlled. You believe what they want you to believe. And that's dangerous. That could lead you to try to leave again. That's why you have to be helped. Kept away from becoming victim to your own impulses. The only way to do that is keeping you locked away. You'll come to understand with time. Appreciate it. Thank him.

You'll appreciate it because you're different. You'll never leave. You would never leave him even if you had the opportunity.

But maybe it's for the best that you don't have that opportunity to begin with.

[automatonknight]

fuck it we ball actually info about kurier below

in terms of technical information, Kurier is in his late thirties, stands at 168 cm and has a rather strong build (think like a dad bod or whatever it's called). in terms of in-game stats it would exceed in strenght (8) and intelligence (7), have decent endurance (5) and agility (5) while totally lacking in perception (2), charisma (1) or luck (2); strong with melee and hand-to-hand, while the only gun it can use is a plasma blaster, because it will do enough damage no matter where she aims (as far as i understand energy weapons, they explode people), even still, she avoids using firearms, better yet, fights all together. in terms of perks, i'm not really sure yet and i'm basing my list here on what i read on the wiki, don't look at them super, like, game-wise, they're here more so to visualise the character etc etc. as i was saying, perks: strong back, super slam!, animal friend (1st rank), night person, solar powered, slayer and robotics expert. i know that's not all (i think you can reach up to 25 perks in total), but you get the point. it's absolutely shit at barter, speech and anything similar, extremely awkward in conversations but not exactly unwelcoming. pretty good at repairs and lockpicking (i know in-game it's a perception skill but this is not a gameplay tutorial), maybe even a bit of science/medicine. what else! maybe personality. i mentioned it somewhere already but its like a typical loner kind of character, except maybe a bit confused about it, not a very elegant, mysterious loner, more like a "they have been standing in the corner for 15 minutes, do you think i should talk to them?" type of loner, as i mentioned, they're just awkward. they DO like company, they just don't know how to approach people and make friends, well, human ones at least. if someone is open and friendly with them, however, it's very possible they'll also loosen up and chat. he tries to be kind and help where it can, can be very forgiving if he understands someone's reason (for example, he forgave jessup, benny fucked them both over and besides, he was just trying to get around as far as he's concerned). besides getting its hands dirty, it enjoys collecting, climbing/hiking and fashion quite a bit. her main companion is, of course, ed-e (and maybe arcade later on). as for the rest, i can't really say as i haven't gotten all that far in-game just yet, but i think she'd be instantly repelled by boone (just kind of felt unwelcome so she didn't talk to him more than once), would probably get along with manny though but he's not a companion (SAD!). with arcade i think they'd enjoy learning things from him, whether that be just facts or knowledge they can apply in life (then again i'm not exactly sure how arcade is). coming back to behavior for a second, it doesn't enjoy killing even if necessary and will take things only if its sure they're abandoned (unless it REALLY wants/needs them, then maybe it'll steal). with killing it's more of a moral standpoint but stealing is just kind of stressful for it lol. there is really not much more i think i can say lol but feel free to ask abt more etc etc

[sariahsue]

Jealousy

"If it weren't for that other guy, do you think you would have fallen for me?" "Please, chaton," Marinette said. "Don't do this to yourself." "I just want to know." Softly she said, "It would have been so easy."

***

Marinette leaned into Chat Noir's side as she stared at their abandoned Uno cards (she had won three rounds in a row). They were on the floor in her room, surrounded pink fabric and dim twilight.

"Hey, Bug?"

"Hm?" It was strange, how easily she'd gotten used to him knowing her identity. It had been an accident, but she wouldn't change anything now.

"Can I ask you something?" His voice rumbled through her.

"Aren't you asking something now?" She'd expected a laugh or at least a resigned sigh, but he said nothing. Marinette pushed a wild card with her toe. "Sure."

"If it weren't for that other guy, do you think you would have fallen for me?"

Every point of contact her body had with his seemed suddenly electrified, her head on his shoulder, her arm against his, where her knee brushed his leg, and she shifted away to give herself some breathing space.

Her walls were bare. He'd asked permission to visit her at home, and she'd taken down almost every picture of Adrien. Evidence of her crush on someone else was not something she wanted to push on him every time he came over. He didn't deserve that.

"Um... do you want to play another round of Uno, or should we do something else?"

"Marinette, I'm serious. Would you have?"

Chat Noir wasn't often serious. If he wanted to go down this path, the best she probably could do was make his pain quick.

She shrugged in response. "Maybe, I guess. Video games? I have UMS 4."

"Really, that's it? You guess? That's not a real answer."

"Please, chaton. Don't do this to yourself."

He slid closer, closing the tiny gap between them that she'd opened up. "I just want to know."

Twilight was slipping into full dark as they sat. The streetlamp outside her window blinked on. He wasn't going to back down on this, was he? Fine. As quickly as she could, then.

"You're kind and compassionate. You're reliable. You're funny." Again, she waited for some reaction, a laugh, a self-satisfied "I knew it!" but he only waited for her to finish. "We have such a strong connection, and I trust you with my life. You're brave. You're my best friend." Softly she added, "It would have been so easy. That's the real answer."

The room was quiet enough that she heard how fast his breathing was. They were so close together that she swore she could feel his pounding heart. Or maybe that was hers. Sitting side-by-side made her feel like a coward. It was too easy to avoid his eyes.

How badly had she hurt him?

"So why haven't you talked to him yet?" Chat Noir asked.

"What?"

"If you'd pick him over all that, then you must like him a lot, but you aren't together. And I can't imagine anyone rejecting you, so you must not have asked him out yet."

Maybe she should have added perceptive to the list, but to be fair he'd never been so devastatingly accurate before.

At least this was something they could laugh at together. "I'm... very awkward around him. I'm pretty sure I make him uncomfortable sometimes."

"I doubt it," he said. "So who is he?"

Marinette got up. She suddenly needed some movement. Time to think. More space. "We shouldn't be talking about this."

"Why not?"

"Because I hate this!" Marinette turned to face him for this first time that night. "I hate hurting you every time you bring it up."

He leaned back like he was unconcerned, but he didn't return her gaze. "I'm only curious," he said. "I just want to know what type of person attracts Ladybug. That's all."

"I'll tell you under two conditions."

He stopped studying her mannequin to peek at her from the corner of his eye.

"One, you stop asking about it. Two, you don't laugh at me."

He finally turned to her completely. "Laugh? Why would I laugh?"

Part of her wished that he would. His laugh would be a welcome sound right now.

"Because you're going to think it's a celebrity crush, and it's not."

He raised an eyebrow and gestured for her to continue.

Marinette groaned. Nothing to do about it now except get it over with. "Adrien Agreste."

Chat Noir was on his feet so fast Marinette almost didn't see him move. "Plagg, claws-"

She didn't hear the rest of his sentence over her shrieking "NO!" but did she see the flash of green light behind her eyelids. "What are you doing? Put your suit back on!"

"No."

"I'm not going to look at you."

Where were the kwamis? Why weren't they telling him this was a bad idea?

"You have to retransform." Marinette backed up until she hit her desk. What on earth was he doing?

"No, not until you look."

"You'll have to," she said. "You can't walk out my front door and let people see you. You'll have to leave the way you came in."

"You're just going to keep your eyes closed for the rest of the night?"

She nodded.

Soft footsteps walked toward her. It wasn't the normal tap of boots that she was used to. It sounded wrong. Another reminder that one mistake from her would put his identity in jeopardy. He stopped right in front of her, circled his arms around her loosely and waited. It wasn't until she let herself sink against his chest that he tightened his grip.

"I'm not opening my eyes," she said.

"Then please just listen to my voice," the boy who was Chat Noir said. "I won't tell you my name, but please just listen?"

She nodded, her face buried in his neck. Even if she did open her eyes, she wouldn't be able to see him.

"When I'm not transformed, I'm much quieter."

"A quiet Chat Noir?" Marinette asked. "What must that be like?"

"I don't show off either. I try to avoid attention, actually. I get too much of it."

As he spoke, his voice started to change, matching the quieter, more gentle picture of himself that he painted for her. It sounded like... like...

"Did you know that we know each other outside the masks? We go to the same school."

With each sentence, Marinette began to realize that his voice was achingly familiar. He still sounded like her partner, on days that they were just talking or when they'd share sad stories. But he also sounded like someone else, someone whose voice she'd thought she knew by heart.

He stopped talking, letting her figure out the truth in silence.

She couldn't open her eyes. She couldn't. But her fingers could wander. They found his ungloved hand first, then moved up to his wrists. His forearms were bare, and as she expected, his sleeve had been rolled up above his elbow. Her fingers skimmed his upper arm and across his shoulder to his neck. She found the buttons of an open overshirt with a soft cotton tee underneath. If she wanted to, she could have reached up to touch his hair or trace her fingers over his nose and cheeks and eyelids, everything his mask usually hid. He would have let her.

Instead she leaned into his neck and felt his head drop on top of hers. Marinette finally opened her eyes. The overshirt was white. The tee underneath was black with colored stripes. Exactly how she remembered.

"You're kind and compassionate," he said. "You're brave and creative and amazing."

A tear slipped across her cheek. She was crying. When had that started?

"It was so easy to fall in love with you, Marinette."

Her hands left his shoulders to wrap around him and pull him closer to her. "I love you too, Adrien."

***

A/N: Written for Marichat May 2021. Prompt: Jealousy. @marichatmay