#for all of us to become more trauma informed and open

[ohwolfling]

instead of reblogging, i'm doing this because tumblr WILL NOT WORK

I genuinely don't think it's a lore issue. I've been writing about violence in media and trauma representation for about a decade now. Baldur's Gate 3 is setting a new standard in how we handle these themes.

There is no lore decision they could've made that could force people to unpack their own relationship to the abuser bias that comes built in because unfortunately... we really do be livin' in a society (also Larian chose to just believe in religious trauma, slavery, murder, etc, instead of doing what DnD has been doing these last few years which is to weirdly try to pretend that like, cults and villains don't have these things via ret con instead of just... being able to tell adult stories but I digress).

I have an entire meta on Gale's specific abuse and how it is both wielding religious abuse and a very common avenue for predatory behavior, mentorship.

I've also started unpacking Shadowheart's themes of child abuse, indoctrination, and an often overlooked delineation of that, child torture.

Storytellers have a responsibility to keep the narrative from joyfully condoning abusive, predatory behavior but at a point, you can lead a horse to water but you can't make it not internalize its own role or victimhood in the global abusive household that is capitalism (and more people than can even process and admit it are survivors of familial/domestic abuse).

If you'd like some real world context for HOW we identify when/if we ourselves have been victimized, I really recommend Nadine Burke Harris' talk on childhood trauma in the context of identify Adverse Childhood Experiences rather than waiting for self identification.

[flimsy-roost]

I realized the other day that the reason I didn't watch much TV as a teenager (and why I'm only now catching up on late aughts/early teens media that I missed), is because I literally didn't understand how to use our TV. My parents got a new system, and it had three remotes with a Venn diagram of functions. If someone left the TV on an unfamiliar mode, I didn't know how to get back to where I wanted to be, so I just stopped watching TV on my own altogether.

I explained all this to my therapist, because I didn't know if this was more related to my then-unnoticed autism, or to my relationship with my parents at the time (we had issues less/unrelated to neurodivergency). She told me something interesting.

In children's autism assessments, a common test is to give them a straightforward task that they cannot reasonably perform, like opening an overtight jar. The "real" test is to see, when they realize that they cannot do it on their own, if they approach a caregiver for help. Children that do not seek help are more likely to be autistic than those that do.

This aligns with the compulsory independence I've noticed to be common in autistic adults, particularly articulated by those with lower support needs and/or who were evaluated later in life. It just genuinely does not occur to us to ask for help, to the point that we abandon many tasks that we could easily perform with minor assistance. I had assumed it was due to a shared common social trauma (ie bad experiences with asking for help in the past), but the fact that this trait is a childhood test metric hints at something deeper.

My therapist told me that the extremely pathologizing main theory is that this has something to do with theory of mind, that is doesn't occur to us that other people may have skills that we do not. I can't speak for my early childhood self, or for all autistic people, but I don't buy this. Even if I'm aware that someone else has knowledge that I do not (as with my parents understanding of our TV), asking for help still doesn't present itself as an option. Why?

My best guess, using only myself as a model, is due to the static wall of a communication barrier. I struggle a lot to make myself understood, to articulate the thing in my brain well enough that it will appear identically (or at least close enough) in somebody else's brain. I need to be actively aware of myself and my audience. I need to know the correct words, the correct sentence structure, and a close-enough tone, cadence, and body language. I need draft scripts to react to possible responses, because if I get caught too off guard, I may need several minutes to construct an appropriate response. In simple day-to-day interactions, I can get by okay. In a few very specific situations, I can excel. When given the opportunity, I can write more clearly than I am ever capable of speaking.

When I'm in a situation where I need help, I don't have many of my components of communication. I don't always know what my audience knows. I don't have sufficient vocabulary to explain what I need. I don't know what information is relevant to convey, and the order in which I should convey it. I don't often understand the degree of help I need, so I can come across inappropriately urgent or overly relaxed. I have no ability to preplan scripts because I don't even know the basic plot of the situation.

I can stumble though with one or two deficiencies, but if I'm missing too much, me and the potential helper become mutually unintelligible. I have learned the limits of what I can expect from myself, and it is conceptualized as a real and physical barrier. I am not a runner, so running a 5k tomorrow does not present itself as an option to me. In the same way, if I have subconscious knowledge that an interaction is beyond my capability, it does not present itself as an option to me. It's the minimum communication requirements that prevent me from asking for help, not anything to do with the concept of help itself.

Maybe. This is the theory of one person. I'm curious if anyone else vibes with this at all.

[mohammedsaqrr]

Help my family survive the continuing war in gaza

Hello, my name is Mohammed Saqr, from North Gaza.

we want dreams and love for life like any young person in the world. I joined Al-Quds Open University to fulfill my dream of studying like any young person in the world, but it seems that I will not be able to achieve my dream because of the brutal war on the Gaza Strip, which destroyed our entire house, and I lost everything I owned and relied on to achieve my dream, including my laptop, university books and library.

We are a family of 12, displaced from our home in North Gaza to the southern areas under inhumane conditions.

This is my daughter, who grew up in the middle of the war, no kid should go through this kind of childhood and trauma. its unfair and we can’t do anything about it to give our kids the lovely childhood that they deserve.

I am appealing to you, the global community, for help. I have started a GoFundMe campaign with the aim of raising 30,000 Euros to enable me and my family to find safety in Egypt. The evacuation fees change from time to time; we currently expect a cost of between 4,000-5,000 dollars per person. Any additional funds generated will go towards supporting my immediate needs and those of my family. There are various obstacles that we will face on the other side, and I hope that we can make some things easier for us.

I would like to update you on the situation now that the war has intensified. We are fine and safe, but life has become very difficult now all around us, people are suffering more and losing loved ones every day. As a family, we have literally lost everything we own, our homes and businesses, but we are trying to remain optimistic by thinking about evacuating and we heard good news today that the borders may open soon. We pray that this is true.

Once we are evacuated, we will try hard to rebuild a small part of what we lost in Gaza. If we can achieve our ultimate goal, we will have the funds to start a business to support our entire family. We want to be able to start over and not suffer anymore in Egypt. If everyone can help us with a small donation to achieve our ultimate goal, we will be able to rebuild our lives after everything was destroyed.

All the positive words cannot express how generous you are especially in sharing my posts to inform other donors about the people of Gaza who are still suffering from the terrible conditions caused by the unjust war on Gaza. Please continue to support the most just cause in the world either by donating directly or by sharing the link to other media. Do not hesitate to help people in difficult and miserable times until the dark days are over.

[luvvixu]

mind over matter pt. 2

synopsis: witness how your marriage was bound to fall apart with you on the front seat and your husband gojo had missed the show—now, he gotta figure out the story on his own.

content: arrange marriage au, angst, husband!gojo, mean!gojo, mention of blood, strong languages, some unsettling scenarios, emotional trauma, read at your own risk

a/n: couldn't still believe that this ff blew up like tysm for all of your support! and thank you so much for waiting~ and like always, this is not proofread lol

previous / masterlist / next

“if i'm not mistaken, the mission would take at least three to four business days.�� yaga passes satoru a sheet of paper where it contains all of the information he needed to know and what kind of things he should focus on investigating.

satoru looked at his former teacher in uncertainty despite the blindfold in his eyes. he's very hesitant to take the mission not because he cannot beat this curse, but because he still needs to apologize to you as soon as possible.

“yaga, c—can i not…” satoru was about to continue when he suddenly trailed off.

“not what?” yaga raises his eyebrow.

but to think that it's all his fault, he must have really hurted you this time, and you wouldn't probably hear him out that easily. that is why satoru thinks that it is best to just give you some space as of now, and when he comes back from his mission, that is the time when he would bother you with his presence.

“it's nothing. i’ll be taking my leave now.”

“very well—” before yaga could even finish his sentence, satoru already vanished in thin air.

the duo, yuuji and megumi, was on their way to visit you just like what they had promised to themselves a while ago.

it was around eight o'clock in the evening and here they are, kind of tiptoeing through the hallway where your room is located.

“i think it's better to let her know our presence first.” megumi said quietly to the pink haired male while holding out a basket with foods that are suitable for digestion of a pregnant lady.

“then it wouldn't be a surprise if we told her.” yuuji then answered. he was carrying two board games on his left arm and a uno card on his right hand. you actually once told them that you were exceptionally good at these kinds of games, so yuuji wanted to test that out.

suddenly, the two boys stopped in front of a door where they immediately froze at the smell of something oddly familiar. “me…megumi, is this y/n sensei’s room?” yuuji slowly mumbles out a word, his eyes going wide.

however, megumi didn't answer him. instead, he immediately tries to open the door without any hesitation just to know that it is locked.

panic slashed across their faces as the smell of blood coming out of your room becomes the leading factor of their franticness behavior.

“y/n sensei! are you there?!” yuuji keeps on calling out to you while megumi does the door breaking.

“it's locked! i can’t break the door!” curse these doors in jujutsu high. megumi could not help but to mumble profanities when he remembered that the doors in jujutsu high are purposely made this strong so any invading curses could not sneak in especially during sleeping hours where most of the sorcerers are vulnerable.

“itadori! call yaga sensei and shoko-san, quick!” megumi screamed at the other boy, whom he instantly obliged.

a weave of panic surge on their bodies because you are involved in this situation. not to mention, you are pregnant on top of that and that puts the situation into a more nerve-wracking experience.

sweat drips on megumi’s forehead as he still tries to break the door. kicks and punches were made but still the door wouldn't flinch his attacks. the idea of using his curse technique came into his mind but he's afraid that it would worsen the situation.

sooner and faster, yuuji came back with the two elders running faster than before. both also have a panic flash on their faces as yaga begins to break the door with his insane force. and after countless tries, he successfully invades the door.

everybody froze at the sight, because there they saw you, lying unconsciously in a pool of your blood that trickled down on your lower body.

“shit! what happened?!” shoko was the first to react and immediately came closer to you to check your pulse, it was there but weak. then shoko proceeds to check your baby's heartbeat, and to her disappointment, there was none that she could detect.

“yaga sensei, please help me get y/n to my clinic. now!” without a further do, yaga carefully lifted up your body and then proceeded to follow the frantic shoko to her said clinic.

on the other hand, yuuji and megumi watch the two elders quickly move away from the scene and that leaves the two. they had been quiet all the time, probably still traumatized because they just saw one of their teachers (plus with an unborn child) on the literal verge of dying.

megumi's eyes trailed on the pool of blood that had been sitting on your floor. he could tell that you had been unconscious for like way past an hour now due to some parts of the blood being fresh while some parts were dried.

“what the hell just happened…?” yuuji was still flabbergasted. he would never expect that this would happen when he just visualizes this night as a fun one because he got everything ready for a surprise mini party to cheer you up.

“i don't know.” megumi solemnly answered.

“...do you think y/n sensei and her baby would be alright?” yuuji added, totally worried about your situation.

for the first time in his life, megumi didn't think he that would utter the same word but with a different tone, different meaning, and in a different situation.

“i…i don't know.”

satoru gojo was busy walking through the busy street of roppongi despite the sky being nighttime. the whole atmosphere was still so lively from bright signage up to crowded night market stalls. this makes a perfect night for a perfect leisure.

but satoru isn't here to do that. he was supposed to do a job and finish it as soon as possible so he could get back to you and finally do the right thing.

he was about to enter an abandoned building when he received a phone call. without looking at the caller, he answered.

“what?”

“where are you?” it was his corporate friend, nanami.

a teasing smile made it into his demeanor. “oh wow! here is my underclassmen calling me first—!”

“i am asking you, where are you?” nanami was clearly not in the mood for his bullshit. his tone was beyond serious and it made satoru wonder if something happened.

“i'm in roppongi. somewhere behind a luxurious night bar.” gojo said.

the moment he said his address, the phone suddenly dropped. confused, the six eyes looked at his phone then just shrugged it off. for the second time, he was about to enter the said building when someone appeared from behind.

“you should go back.” there he saw nanami, breathless as he tried to catch his breath. looks like he ran his way towards his location.

“yo, my man! what are you doing he—”

“go back to the jujutsu high. i’ll be taking your mission here.” nanami explained like he was .

did something happen? was on satoru's mind.

“why?” satoru dropped all of his mischievousness as it was replaced by his unhidden worry—you were literally there at the jujutsu high.

there was a pause on nanami, he seemed very hesitant to say it and satoru was growing impatient.

“just say it nanami—”

“yaga asked me to take your mission on your behalf after something happened. it's about your wife. she was found unconscious in her room.”

never ever in his life he could feel the quickest adrenaline rush in his body as nanami didn't even manage to utter the last syllables of his sentence when satoru already uses his technique and teleports himself towards your room back in jujutsu high.

and there, he was welcomed by the janitors of the said school, mopping the dried liquid on the floor. the smell was so familiar that it made his body tremble in a span of a second.

“w-what the fuck happened here?” he asked the janitor who looked at him in pity as he continued to solemnly wipe the floor.

“miss y/n was found unconscious and there was blood…in her lower area.”

blood, y/n, unconscious, my wife, danger, the baby…my baby!

that was the only thing that came into his mind as he went out of the hallway and ran somewhere he wasn't aware of. his mind raced with negative thoughts.

and since his life is not always about sugarcoating—he thought that probably you just had a miscarriage, got attacked by some curses, or worse, you're dead. his wife, you, were hurt when he was away and not even there to at least protect you.

unbeknownst, to the man, tears were threatening to slip down his six eyes, making his blindfold become wet as it was being absorbed by his tears constantly. satoru could feel that his body was filled with self-loathing, guilt, and regret all over his system.

“satoru.” a voice called him from behind. satoru does not need to turn around to know who it was. it was yaga.

“come to my office.” without waiting for him, yaga already left with satoru trailing behind him. taking off his blindfold, satoru wiped the tears that were about to fall.

when they arrived at yaga’s office, he saw his two students, yuuji and megumi, sitting quietly by the couch. they were both acting quietly odd, like they knew what was going on too.

“where's y/n?” satoru asked.

“do you want to know what happened first?” yaga avoided his question for now. instead, he goes into the other aspect that he's been wondering too. satoru fell quiet, so yaga took it as a yes.

the principal looked at the two students who were already looking at him. sighing deeply, yaga then proceeds to start explaining.

“y/n was found unconscious by these two. it has been over an hour since she's been in that situation judging by the dryness of her blood. right now, we still had no idea about her state since shoko's the one who's been handling the situation. and it's been a while too since we have seen her.”

“and the baby…i'm sorry, gojo. but we have no idea either.” yaga sighed heavily. satoru was all silent, he couldn't bring himself to utter any word. he was too caught up about the situation that he had so many things to say to the point that he couldn't figure out where to start.

“i know it's not my business to interfere but…did something happen that leads to this?” the principal asked the strongest. the next moment was something that everyone expected—they did not receive any response from the man.

suddenly, the door burst open, revealing the tired doctor. her eyes landed on your husband who's still frozen about your condition. on the other hand, satoru was too busy drowning himself with his thoughts to notice shoko in the room.

“itadori, megumi…go back to your dorm for now. it's getting late and i’ll just update you two tomorrow.” shoko scurry the two younger boys and they obliged.

as the door in yaga's office closed, the three grown-ups fell into a silent atmosphere, only the sound of the air ventilation could be heard inside.

“h-how’s y/n and the child?” yaga was the first one to speak among the three. but shoko's attention was drawn to gojo only and gojo was still unable to move.

“her situation was so severe that we needed to put her into a hospital as soon as possible.” shoko said quietly and directed to gojo only. her eyes were trailed to him, and only him. she wants him to taste the bitter medicine of his aftermath and she is going to make sure he's taking it.

call her brutal and cruel, but in your realm of marriage where her role is only being a worried close friend, she would choose you over everything. that's how much she cares for you. shoko could see what kind of person you are, and she believes that you deserve better than what you are right now.

sure, gojo was right when he said that she'd only known you for a short period of time. but that is enough for her to determine that she is going to stick by your side whatever may happen. because she knows how a gojo satoru works, she knows what kind of person he could be.

if gojo can manage to leave shoko out in his life, then he could do it to y/n too.

“she was bleeding too much, i'm afraid it has to do with the child. so if we don't act fast, we might have to choose who to save—are we going to save y/n and lose the baby? are we going to save the baby and lose y/n? or…what if we lose them both—”

*boogsh!*

a sudden explosion was seen. the four walls inside yaga’s office have officially become three when satoru couldn't handle his emotions that he let his cursed energy slip and create a hole into one of yaga’s walls. the impact was so strong that it literally shook the whole jujutsu high.

and surprisingly, none of the three inside the scene was scratched, just emotionally taken aback. the once gojo satoru who couldn't even utter a word earlier, was now looking at shoko with a mixture of menace, trouble, anger, grief, and…extreme sadness.

shoko ties his stare, looking equivalently. “did you hear what i said, gojo? your wife and your baby are currently facing the grim reaper. do you understand that?” she said calmly but there is a hit or hardness into her tone.

“shut up! fucking shut up!” another surge of curse energy flows in different directions, making yaga and shoko feel goosebumps on how strong it is.

“satoru!” yaga yelled in panic.

“where is she? where the fuck is she?! show me where she is!” satoru screamed at the doctor. shoko, whose face is now back to emotionless, decides to subside her annoyance to the man as she knows you are the top priority right now.

“i will let you see her. but once you see her, you have to teleport us into the hospital immediately if you still want to see her open her eyes.” shoko said seriously. thankfully, satoru managed to calm himself alone and just stared at shoko, waiting for her to continue.

“y/n was experiencing placenta abruption. it's a very serious complication in her case because the placenta in the inner wall of her uterus is completely detached. it greatly affects the baby’s supply of oxygen and nutrients and the situation causes her to bleed heavily.”

“i immediately minimize the bleeding but i cannot guarantee the two's safety, especially the baby, since it is not worth the risk to imply cursed energy to an unborn child—” before shoko could even finished explaining, satoru already stormed out of the room and just proceeds to the room where his guts tell you where. he was being followed by shoko who was screaming at him.

opening one of the doors, there he saw you all pale. he could feel your cursed energy barely beating, and that scared the shit out of him because that indicates your weakness.

“o-oh god…” satoru couldn't help but to feel his breathing pattern becoming irregular as a single tear followed by another drop from his gorgeous powerful blue eyes.

this can't be happening. you were just fine a while ago!

“y/n, oh my g-god! my wife…” gojo satoru, known by his title as the strongest sorcerer in his generation, was seen crying over his dying wife and dying unborn child. his tall figure was trembling in tangled emotions that he couldn't even determine the two ends.

“sorry to ruin your moment, but if you want to save your family, it's better for us to keep moving now.” shoko followed the suit, still savage as ever.

gojo does what she said and teleports the three of you into the bestest hospital that he knows. ignoring the toll on his cursed energy as it took more, more than the usual usage, satoru believes that your well-being should be his priority rather than his.

when they arrived, shoko immediately started to bump the people out of the way and started to call for help. “someone! get us to an emergency!” she screamed.

meanwhile, satoru keeps your body close to him. hugging your frame ever so delicately, scared that you might break or disappear.

a man like satoru gojo, whom to some called him a man-god, find himself crying out to every gods and deities out there to help you, to help him get this through. he prays and prays to keep you safe and how he's sorry for all of the things he would do.

for sure, he knew this sudden care for you is not born out of pity or regret, it is a late realization on how much he couldn't bear to see you like this. because deep inside him, satoru couldn't deny the warm feeling of having someone that was waiting for him to come home, provide him service, and even give him a bundle of joy.

the words he swore to himself that he doesn't need a wife to console his woes as he is completely capable of being by himself was getting eaten by his current self. served on a silver platter, satoru didn't mind eating his own words.

a stretcher was bought on sight and shoko instructed him to put your body there and watch the series of doctors rush your body into the emergency room. satoru watches the light above the door where you were in turns red, signaling that it requires immediate medical attention.

placing his traumatized body on one of the cold walls of the hospital, sliding his man shoulders and crumbling himself into small pieces to make himself as small as possible. never he would have thought that the night would end with him continuing to pray for your safety.

satoru didn't realize that he dozed off within the walls of a random corner of a hospital where he brought you in. he only realized his current situation when he could feel someone kicking his lower body constantly.

opening his tired eyes, he saw shoko eyeing him while still continuing to nudge him. “good, you're awake.” she said.

it feels like a surge of energy flows to his body and it immediately makes him rise up faster than he could. that was also when he started to feel all of the aches in his body just from sleeping in that kind of position.

“fuck, my whole body aches.” he mumbles to himself. satoru was about to stretch himself when he saw the time on the wall.

5:05 AM

and then his eyes landed on the door.

there was no red light anymore.

“y/n. shoko, where's y/n?!” anxiousness washed all over his body. he didn't know what to expect on what answers he's about to receive regarding his family condition.

meanwhile, shoko thinks that gojo looked like a lost puppy on how his eyes literally beg for a positive answer. despite his six foot frame, he looks like a poor and desperate child.

“the operation ended an hour ago. y/n was now stable and goy transferred into one of the private rooms. while the baby…” she pauses.

“w-what? what happened to my baby?” shoko almost grimaces the way satoru addresses the unborn child, wondering where the hell did he get the guts to say that.

the doctor was this close to brutally and savagely roast this man until he flew in shame—that’s how mad, angry, and upset shoko from what satoru did to you. but today is not the suitable day for that, she may be cruel but she had limits. so, shoko forcefully swallowed the harsh words and decided to just put it aside.

“the baby was delivered early through cesarean, it's the only way to save y/n and the child. the baby is currently in a neonatal intensive care unit where the bestest doctors monitor the child until it reaches mature development.”

so basically, you give birth to his child. satoru couldn't explain what he's feeling right now. he's happy for the baby, and yet at the same time, he feels really undeserving, but he still wants to be part of the child's life—this is too complicated for him.

and besides, this is not the right time to contemplate. because as a husband and father, he needed to stay with his family to provide them love, support, and to patch that once had been wounded. and he's going to start with…

“can i go and see y/n?” deep inside him, satoru felt ridiculous for asking that question since he is the literal husband! or was he? after everything he had done to her for five years?

shoko then tiredly pointed at the room at the end of the hallway and satoru, with the help of his long legs, never ran faster than his whole life.

gently opening the door in your room, satoru was greeted by your peaceful and sleeping form with all of the tubes connected on the back of your hand. closing the door behind him, satoru finally let go of the tears he's been holding the whole time, ranging from the confrontation with you until to to this situation.

sitting on the chair beside your bed, satoru weeps as he holds your arm. at this moment, the strongest no longer exists, it was just gojo satoru who couldn't stop himself from muttering an apology to his wife that he did so wrong.

they say, you would only realize the importance of something when it's now late. satoru would absolutely agree to that statement and he could even provide proofs and evidence. at first, he's being a total dick and douchebag to his wife who clearly doesn't even do anything wrong to him. then his own wife endured all of his actions for the whole five years and still remained as if their relationship could be only determined on a sheet of paper.

“i'm sorry. i'm so sorry.” satoru may not know what would happen the moment you would open your eyes. would you send him away? or would you let him stay despite all of the pain and trauma he caused you? for now, he can never know.

but one thing he's going to let you know, he's going to change for you and for his baby. he's done doing things for himself, and now, he should focus on you.

and he's going to start with cutting all of his ties to his mistress.

[part 3 is now posted! for those who wanted to be tagged, just say it on the comments — ©luvvixu2024]

taglists: @mistymuii @kalopsia-flaneur @sherryuki-callmeyuki @tttttttf @slyhersophia @rirk-ke @username23345 @lvstru @neteyxms

[latenightdaydreams]

I'm thinking how Konig would react when his wife call him with full him in an argument (about culture bc I'm Asian ehe), like it's a sign of seriousness.

It's the same in my culture! I love thinking about giant König just freezing knowing he went too far😶

Laundry Day (fem)

Master List

>cw: fem/afab, argument, fluff

.

.

König has recently retired so that means that he is home constantly now. It means that you both get to spend a lot of time together and you love it, but sometimes he talks to you as Colonel König instead of just your Kö. Today was one of those days.

König comes into the laundry room wearing a towel around his waist as he has just gotten out of the shower. He is holding black workout shorts in his hand with an annoyed look on his face.

“Y/n, you didn’t wash my gym clothes?”

“No, today I only washed bed sheets and towels so far, I’ll get to them.”

“Nien, I told you to wash them last night.” He snaps back quickly.

At this point König is becoming very demanding and his voice has become stern, as if you’re his subordinate. You continue to fold towels and place them into the laundry basket. Trying to remain calm to not make König explode further. After a lifetime in the military, he has remaining traumas and it causes him to act out. You try to not take it so personally, but it’s hard.

“I know, but I wasn’t aware you needed them for today.”

“Of course I would, I work out every day!” He raises his voice slightly.

You take a deep breath, placing the towel down and turning to him. “Yes, but I wasn’t aware that you had no more clean-”

“Why would I ask you if I had clean clothes!” He cuts you off and yells this time.

You tighten your jaw and glare at him. You might be smaller than him, but you aren’t going to just let him walk all over you.

“Maybe next time you should inform me of your schedule and I-”

“Ich bin dein Ehemann! You do what I say, when I ask!” König’s pale face turns bright red as he yells at you, holding up his shorts in a bit of blind rage directed at you.

You’ve had enough, he knows better than to speak to you this way. You toss the basket of clean towels on the floor and turn towards him. The look in your eyes puts fear in the giant man’s heart.

“Alexander Jan König! You DO NOT speak to me that way!” Your voice is loud and stern.

König looks at you with wide eyes and a slack jaw. He is stunned, he isn’t used to people speaking to him like that; especially not his sweet wife. He doesn’t say anything. His face softens and his shoulders drop. His pale blue eyes glued to you, he’s still too scared to move or say anything.

“Do you understand?!”

“Ja-y-yes.” He stumbles over his words as he stands up straight.

“Good!” you walk past him out of the laundry room and he just watches you go before looking back down at the towels on the floor. He listens to you stomp away and slam the bedroom door. He is terrified, but also slightly aroused. 

He quickly bends down and begins to clean up the towels on the floor. He begins to start the washer to clean them again for you, he also plans on drying and folding. He goes back to the bathroom and grabs his own gym clothes and gets them ready to be washed next. 

Going into the kitchen, he saw dishes in the sink and began to wash them for you. He looks at the clock once he is done and only twenty minutes have passed, but he is still in his towel from the shower so he tries to go up into the bedroom to see if you’re okay.

As you sit on the bed with your arms crossed, still angry, you hear a light knock at the bedroom door.

“Liebling?” König’s voice is gentle as if he’s talking to a child.

“What?”

König opens the door slightly and pokes his head in. His eyes meet yours and he smiles at you timidly.

“Hallo mein Herz, can I come in?”

“Sure.”

König walks in like a dog with his tail between his legs. Your eyes travel over his attractive body as he makes his way to the bed and sits at the edge.

“I-I’m sorry…” the words struggle to leave his lips. Not because he doesn’t feel bad, but because his ego is so fucking big. “I’m sorry I snapped.”

You continue to just sit there and look at him as his head is dropped and his gaze is to the floor, “And what else?”

He turns his head to the side to look at you but quickly looks back away when he sees how mad you still are.

“And I’ll never do it again.”

“And?”

“I’ll take you out tonight for dinner, I can buy you whatever you want.”

You just look at him, up and down. A small smile comes up across your lips. You love to see this behemoth war criminal melt at your feet like this.

“Good. I also want a massage.”

“Absolutely.” König nods while he looks at you. “I’m very sorry. You didn’t deserve that.”

König looks at you with a genuine sympathetic look in his eyes. You're the one person in this world that understands him, he never meant to hurt or lash out at you.

“Thank you for apologizing Kö.”

He reaches his hand out for yours with a small smile on his lips. You reach out and intertwin your fingers with his. König can feel himself begin to relax as he squeezes your hand.

[wife-of-all-dilfs]

bioluminescence | b. blake

masterlist

summary: season one — you thought all bellamy blake wanted was sex and other women, but when you sneak outside of the camp walls at night, bioluminescent plants are not the only shocking discovery you make, and not everyone is happy about it.

warnings: fluff, swearing, jealousy, mention of sexual themes, (L/N) use, roma

pairing: bellamy blake x reader

word count: 4.1k

Sleep was a rare luxury after you and the other Ark prisoners were sent to Earth, especially since you were all crowded in a small camp surrounding the drop ship. Teenage hormones, anger, violence, and trauma were not a great combination for peace. So, it was either crying, fistfights, or the incessant moans of couples who couldn't keep it in their pants for more than five minutes that usually kept you awake at night.

You were certain it was Bellamy Blake and his two model-looking female companions who were often to blame for that last subject. Although to everyone in the camp, it was very obvious that their relationship was solely physical, neither Roma nor Bree seemed to appreciate when other women talked, interacted with, or even sat near him. Clarke was a heavy target because of her co-leadership with Bellamy. And so were you.

You were within the inner circle, the informal 'Earth council'. You were also handy with a rifle and knowledgeable in tracking, so it wasn't exactly surprising whenever Bellamy took you with him on various missions and hunts. Sometimes though, he would bring you with him even if the task wasn't within your skillset—those were the times you were left feeling a little confused.

Nevertheless, a small friendship sprung from it. You weren't best buddies, but you weren't opposed to each other's company either. That was a big no-no to Roma and Bree and they frequently expressed that fact through passive-aggressive tactics.

This night was no different from others. Thankfully, it was the never-ending fistfights that kept you awake instead of other's carnal endeavours. You opened the flap of your tent and stepped out into the crisp air; autumn was definitely approaching. Hugging your jacket closer to your body, you looked around the camp, unsure of where to wait out the commotion. Everywhere was taken, so you decided a brief walk in the woods wouldn't hurt. Well, you hoped it wouldn't. At least if the Grounders killed you, you would finally get some undisturbed rest.

As you made your way over to one of the fence-wall openings, you ran smack-bang into a barely dressed girl with long brown hair. Roma.

"Watch where you're going, bitch," she spat, scrutinising your appearance from top to bottom.

Ignoring her lovely remark, you eyed her jeans and the way her upper half was only covered by a grey sports bra. "Aren't you cold?"

"Not now I'm not." She smirked, eyes flickering to Bellamy's tent.

You grimaced. I so didn't need to know that.

Right on cue, Bellamy emerged from his tent, fully clothed. He scanned the surroundings before his hardened gaze briefly landed on Roma and then settled on you; it was impossible to miss the way his face softened when your eyes met. Strange.

"Jealous?" she asked, regaining your attention.

"Unlikely."

You brushed past her, though she made an effort to forcefully knock your shoulder and spit another curse at you. Classy.

Bellamy took a step toward you. "Hey—"

But you simply moved past him, continuing toward the wall and saying, "A real gem you've got yourself there."

At least Bree was all bark and no bite.

You could hear him sigh as the distance between you both grew.

Truth be told, you were a little jealous. An unfortunate truth but still a truth all the same. You knew you were beginning to feel something deeper for Bellamy and it was becoming difficult listening to other girls brag about their nights with him. Not like you would ever tell him though—he wasn't a relationship type of guy and as far as you could tell, his feelings for you were platonic.

Never mind. You could settle for his friendship... for now.

You had made it outside the camp walls. At first, you planned on circling the fence for a while, but when your eyes caught on something glowing from the opposite side of a tree, you strayed from your path. Rounding the tree's trunk, you found a glowing neon-pink flower; the species of which you were unsure, but it was beautiful. Then, in your peripheral vision, there was something else lighting up your vision, something blue this time. There was another flower just a few trees away.

And again, you walked over to the strange plant, only to find yourself now on a journey that kept leading to more and more glowing flowers the deeper into the woods you trekked. They were almost everywhere and at this point, you were practically running with an excited grin on your face. In the near distance, numerous radiant colours lit up an area covered by a thick cluster of trees. You wove yourself through branches and leaves, pushing your way into the bright section of the woods.

Once you emerged from the trees, amazement morphed into your expression. You had stepped into a small meadow filled with glowing flowers of various colours that covered the forest floor. There were countless species, but they all shared the same mesmerising radiance. Much to your disbelief, there were even electric blue luminous butterflies that concealed the tree trunks and fluttered in the air.

"Bioluminescence," you whispered to yourself.

It was so beautiful, you could have cried.

Maybe you should just leave the camp and build a hut here. It would certainly beat living with the others.

As you moved further into the small clearing, the butterflies flew closer around you. Holding out an arm, one butterfly tentatively circled your hand before landing in your palm. You laughed in amazement, watching as the small creature curiously crawled across your hand and ticked your skin. Okay, that settled it—you were definitely a Disney princess.

The sound of branches snapping and leaves rustling suddenly pulled you from your amazement; it was coming from where you had entered the clearing. You reached down to your belt only to find the knife holster on it empty. Of course, you didn't bring your knife. You had left the camp's safety and didn't even think to bring a weapon. So stupid.

Before you could reprimand yourself any further, a tall figure emerged from the tree line. The tight dark blue shirt was an easy identifier as to who the figure was. And so were those deep brown eyes.

It was Bellamy. "Woah."

You let out a sigh of relief, feeling your tensed body relax again.

His gaze swept across the vivid tree-encompassed meadow, sharing the same wonderous expression you once had. The overpowering glow from the butterflies turned his tanned skin a light blue, defining the contours of his face and arm muscles. He sort of looked otherworldly.

"What are you doing out here?" you asked.

The incident before you left camp quickly returned to mind and it was evident in the slight irritation etched on your face. He didn't need to respond for you to realise that he had followed you. Great. His little girlfriends were going to have a field day tomorrow if they saw him come after you.

Bellamy's eyes found yours, taking note of your negative reaction. His steps were cautious as he began walking towards you. "I could ask you the same thing."

He stopped in front of you, peering down through a few stray strands of dark brown hair whilst wearing his infamous lazy smirk. No wonder girls were always fawning over him; he was gorgeous, and he damn well knew it too. Even you were falling into the very same trap. Unlike them, though, it was the moments you shared with him when you were alone that conjured your attraction to him. Sure, he was easy on the eyes, but you had also learnt that he was surprisingly a decent human being. More than decent actually, despite how he presented himself to others.

He treated you with respect—a lot more than many others had ever done. You had learnt to trust each other, communicate effectively, and work as a team. Sometimes, you would even find yourselves discussing things that you both intended to keep within till the day you died, things that felt too intimate to share with anyone else.

No matter how much you hated it, you couldn't help but develop feelings for him. Even when it seemed he was preoccupied with other women.

Bellamy eyed you, waiting for the snarky retort he knew you were putting together.

You sighed and turned around, crouching on the floor to inspect one of the neon-pink flowers. "Shouldn't you be teaching Roma and Bree gun handling safety in your tent right now?"

That line was dangerously close to sounding like jealousy and you knew it. You bit your tongue because Lord knows you were most likely to expose your feelings for Bellamy through word vomit.

If only you had been facing him to witness the shame washing through his eyes.

"Funny," he said. "But no. I've got more important things to do."

"Like what? Making sure your best hunting partner doesn't get killed by glowing plants?" you joked, glancing over your shoulder to see his reaction.

It wasn't a grin or smirk like you expected. Not even a little chuckle. Instead, he simply stared at you with this intense look in his eye; it was almost sad but also like he was trying to communicate something to you telepathically.

"Something like that," he murmured.

After those words left his mouth, something about the atmosphere shifted. You suddenly felt overwhelmed with emotion and his soul-piercing stare was not helping. There wasn't a wide selection of movies on the Ark, but you had watched them all, including all the romance movies. The only thing you could compare Bellamy's gaze to was Mr. Darcy's in Pride and Prejudice. Reluctance. Longing. It was all there. Had you been completely wrong about his feelings for you? Or were you just imagining it?

The likelihood of Bellamy sharing your same feelings seemed impossible, so you chalked it up to your wishful imagination.

You stood back up, facing him but avoiding making eye contact. "Well, I—uh," you stammered. "I'm not going back. Not yet."

"I didn't come here to take you back."

That made your gaze meet his.

Why did you come then, Bellamy? you thought.

He side-stepped you and you turned to see him wandering deeper into the meadow. He began observing each and every beauty and oddity the small sanctuary held, touching the petals of every flower with a delicateness you had never witnessed before. Soon enough, you felt compelled to join him.

The two of you must have spent an hour in that meadow, inspecting each species of flora, hovering your fingertips through the glowing cusp of each plant as if you could feel its light on your skin, laughing together when a butterfly landed on the tip of your nose. Sometimes you caught Bellamy watching whenever your face lit up with excitement as you discovered something new. He never really looked at what you had found; he just looked at you, but you were too overjoyed to even contemplate why.

You felt like you had entered a dream, protected from the outside world where there were Grounders, war, and bitchy brown-haired girls. Everything real was forgotten, even your unrequited feelings for Bellamy. You just enjoyed his company in this dream and pretended it would last forever.

Somehow, you had both ended up lying on the forest floor side-by-side, surrounded by flowers as you stared up at the starry night sky through the tree crowns. It wasn't as cold as before; you guessed it was because of Bellamy's close proximity to you. One of his hands was behind his head, the other on his stomach. His warmth was radiating off his skin and onto your own.

You could have fallen asleep if you closed your eyes. Probably not the most logical idea though.

Bellamy's quiet, yet deep voice disrupted the silence. "It's just a distraction, you know?"

"Hm?"

"Those girls," he clarified, and you watched as his words turned to mist, carrying into the black sky. "If I focus too much on the fact that I have to control an entire camp of teenagers, fight a war against the Grounders, while taking care of Octavia and y—" he cut himself off, closing his eyes with a sigh. "I just feel like I start to lose myself."

Your focus shifted from the sky to him. Even he didn't seem to be looking at the sky anymore, despite his gaze still being pointed straight upward. He looked lost in his own thoughts. Serious and sombre—much different compared to how they had been just a short while ago.

"Well," you began softly. "We can't have that. You already seem a little rough around the edges, Blake."

A grin slowly formed across his lips and he shook his head. He turned his head to the side, looking down at your smiling expression from where he lay. The weightiness from before had melted from his demeanour. Because of a little distraction.

You had thought those two girls he spent most nights with were there purely for his own physical needs or because his attraction to them was greater than his self-control. Never had you contemplated the fact that it might have been because he was mentally struggling with the hardships of being a leader. Of course, how could you have? He had never told you before now.

Your brows furrowed. "Why tell me?"

The muscles in his jaw clenched and the grin fell from his lips. A sense of seriousness returned but this time it was less heavy. It seemed more like a weight was lifting from his shoulders. Like a declaration. Like a long-awaited confession.

You felt something warm brush against your hand; it gently grazed over your knuckles, lighting a fire beneath your skin. In Bellamy's dark eyes, you could see the reflection of his hand caressing your own and your heart leapt to your throat.

"Why do you think?" he murmured, his eyes flickering between your own, urging you to connect the dots instead of making him say it aloud.

Your lips parted and the crease between your eyebrows deepened. 

Every time he picked you first to be his partner on a mission, every deep conversation you shared when no one else was around—they all had a hidden meaning. All the times his hand brushed against yours as you walked in sync side-by-side, the times you caught him staring at you through a one-hundred-person dense crowd, or the way he would step in front of you as if to shield you whenever there was even a hint of danger—it was all because...

"Oh," you whispered.

"Yeah." His eyes flickered between yours before he turned back to the stars. "And I—I understand if you don't feel the same way; I know I haven't given you much reason to. From those girls to the... the radio, and the culling on the Ark. If I could take—"

His sentence was cut short as you leaned over him, pressing your lips to his. You could feel his pulse racing in his lips. Or was it your own? Probably both. Your hair fell to the side and his mouth started to move against your own. He began to rise, moving you up along with him until you were both kissing in a sitting position.

Bellamy's hand moved to cradle your jaw, his lips slow and tender. Everything felt like it had fallen into place, like this was exactly how things were supposed to be, with his lips on yours in the middle of a fairy-tale-like meadow whilst surrounded by a field of glowing flowers and beautiful winged creatures.

The butterflies weren't just circling you now, they were somehow fluttering around in your stomach too and it felt exhilarating.

Unfortunately, the kiss did have to come to an end at some point. Even so, the warm fluttering in your stomach never ceased. Bellamy had pulled away first, his hands gently falling from your jaw and back into his lap. He was looking at you and at first, you were afraid he would get up and leave, or tell you he had changed his mind. But he didn't. A smile crept across his lips—not a self-satisfied smirk or a tantalising grin, but a genuine smile.

Forget the butterflies; your stomach was doing somersaults now. He found your hand once more and interlocked it with his own in your lap. His thumb drew small circles on the side of your palm almost as if he knew you needed a reminder that this moment was really happening.

"That was my first kiss," you admitted.

His smile became a little nervous. "Was it okay?"

Was it okay? This boy was a little clueless if he couldn't tell that you thoroughly enjoyed having his lips on yours. So, you answered him with another soft peck to his lips, then pulled back again to see his reaction. He chuckled, nodding his head to say he understood.

"We can always come out here to practice if you want," he said, this time with a smirk.

You laughed. "I think that's a good idea."

He tucked a lock behind your ear and gently brushed pieces of hair away from your face. You could feel warmth creeping into your cheeks, turning them a rosy pink. Well, it was probably more of a violet hue due to the intense blue glow from the plants and butterflies. Either way, it still revealed how nervous he made you feel.

"It's getting late. We should probably head back and sleep," you said. Bellamy raised an eyebrow, creating his own little innuendo with your words and your eyes widened. "Not together! Alone, I mean. In separate tents. With clothes... on..." you trailed off, realising you were only digging yourself a deeper hole.

You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose in embarrassment.

He just chuckled and rose to his feet. "Come on, (L/N). Let's go sleep."

You rolled your eyes with a smile as he helped you stand up with him.

For a brief moment, you gave the area one last look, imprinting the memory into your mind. Who could have guessed that when you left the camp walls you would enter a fairy tale of vivid colours and electric butterflies? Or, even more surprising, that Bellamy Blake would later confess his feelings for you? All you had wanted was an escape; instead, you got a dream come true.

Bellamy pressed a hand to your lower back, guiding you with him towards the tree line in comfortable silence.

The walk back to the drop ship was pretty quiet. No more words needed to be said; a conversation that clarified what you two were now could wait for tomorrow when your brains weren't clouded by fatigue and the fresh excitement from confession. Some things hadn't changed though. Bellamy still stole glances at you every now and then, as you did him, earning a nervous smile and blush each time either of you got caught. Your hands alternated from brushing against one another to ever-so-slightly linking pinkies.

Okay, maybe things had changed a little.

You passed each flower that had led you to the meadow and this time, they became less and less as you grew closer to the drop ship. As you came up on the camp walls, the sound of fighting and conversations had died down and was replaced by the faint crackling of dying fires.

Finally, you both stepped through one of the openings and were within the camp. There didn't seem to be anyone awake; with the way the moon was shining down straight overhead, it was clear why. 

Your pinkie fell from Bellamy's and you moved in front of him, taking a few slow steps backwards. "Uh, that's my tent over there," you said, gesturing behind you.

His eyes never left yours as he continued to walk toward you. "Yeah, I know."

"Oh, you know, do you?"

A grin stretched across his lips as he hummed and reached for your waist, pulling you against his body. Your hands wound around his neck, a smile present on your face as he leaned in, his lips mere inches from your own. His lips had just brushed against your own when someone behind you cleared their throat and you both jumped apart.

Bellamy peered beside your head, semi-glaring at the interrupter behind you.

What a surprise it was when you turned around to see Roma, arms crossed—clothes on, thankfully—and looking severely unhappy.

"You have got to be kidding me," she said with a scowl.

Perfect. Great. Absolutely fantastic. Looks like her field day had come early.

No way. You were too tired to deal with this. You gave Bellamy an apologetic glance before attempting to slip away through the gaps between tents. Unfortunately, it wasn't in Roma's best interest to let you off so easily. She caught your wrist and jerked you back toward her.

Bellamy looked like he was about to step in, but you beat him to it.

You tore your wrist from her grasp, words dripping with bitterness as you said, "Never do that again."

For a split second, she looked the slightest bit intimidated, but then quickly covered it up with disdain. Her gaze flickered from you to Bellamy; it was hard to miss the way she straightened her posture and tried to look more presentable for him.

And for a split second of your own, you felt the slightest twinge of fear that Bellamy would change his mind about you and leave with her again. But at that very same moment, he gently grabbed your hand and guided you back to his side, dissipating all your previous worries.

Both you and Roma looked down at your interlocked hands in disbelief.

"Listen, Roma." He sighed, sounding like he was desperately trying to keep his cool. "I think it's best if you and Bree find another tent to sleep in from now on."

Her disbelief turned into pure astonishment. "What? Are you serious?"

Bellamy lightly squeezed your hand.

God, he was putting this girl through the five stages of grief. You almost felt bad. Then you remembered the daily torment she had been putting you through just for existing and the remorse immediately washed away.

"Because of her? She's not even—"

"Choose your next words very carefully," he warned in a dangerously low voice.

Her mouth opened and shut a few times before she realised any insult thrown at you would end badly for her. It's not like Bellamy would hurt her, but he did have power over the camp, so he would probably force her to share a tent with Myles or something. His non-stop babbling would drive her to insanity.

She gave him a defiant look. "What if we don't want to leave?"

"I'll take the tent down and move it somewhere else."

"Then Bree and I will make both your lives a living Hell."

You could hear Bellamy suppress a laugh. "Unlikely," he echoed your previous words.

Roma looked to you as if you could help her case—the audacity. You gave her a sarcastic 'what-can-you-do?' shrug which just enhanced her seething temper. It was obvious that she was getting nowhere and the moment she realised, you swore you could see her ego literally deflating.

She made a short high-pitched noise of frustration and spun around, her hair whipping melodramatically through the air as she practically stomped back to Bellamy's tent. You could hear her call out to the other girl inside, telling her to 'pack her shit' and that they were moving tents. Not long after, the blonde-haired girl emerged from the tent flap holding a bundle of clothes. Roma must have explained to her what happened because they both shot a venomous glare in your direction and then walked off in search of another tent.

You sighed in relief as they disappeared out of sight. You were about to walk back to your own tent, but Bellamy tugged you back to him once more, his arms wrapping around your torso as your hands fell on his chest.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I thought she'd handle it better."

You fiddled with the material of his shirt, half-smiling. "I told you she was a gem."

"Yeah." He chuckled. "My taste of women has been a little... questionable."

Your hands moved up to his shoulders, pulling your body up against his. His fingertips grazed the exposed skin of your waist, sending a wave of goosebumps across your body.

"You should really try breaking that trend."

He had that same intense look in his eye as when you were both in the meadow. This time it didn't hold any sadness or longing, but rather a sense of finality and affection, like his greatest wish had finally come true—that would make two of you. One of his hands moved to cup your cheek, stroking your cheekbone with his thumb as his face grew closer to yours.

The heart thumping in your chest almost gave out as you reflexively leaned further into his warm embrace.

"I already have," he murmured before his soft lips descended upon yours.

And the butterflies returned.

[sugar-grigri]

Nayuta wasn't killed by Barem, she's his ally 

Poor fandom, you're disorientated just when your compasses should be working properly. 

Let's learn how to eat sushi properly, step by step. Or rather, how about reading Chainsaw Man in the right order? By calmly superimposing everything we know in the right order 

So let's not panic, let's get on with it. Dry your tears, clean your snot and let's get back to the introductions. 

First layer of sushi: Denji and Pochita are made for each other 

Who is Chainsaw Man? It's a question we've been asking ourselves a lot, but how about a simple answer - we're not here to mess around. Chainsaw Man is the combined result of Pochita + Denji. Do we agree? Why have they become so close? Because they look alike, don't they? Alone, hungry, in need of a little warmth and a little love. 

Second layer of sushi: birthday, despair, amnesia...

If we take the stories in outline, Denji meets Makima and then bonds with his siblings. A sibling who eventually dies, and whose final breaking point is his sister, cut in two. On top of that, it's his birthday, isn't it? Makima invites Denji to open the door that confined his traumas, including the death of Denji’s father? 

You see, I've already missed it, I went too fast. Let's resume calmly, birthday... Denji had forgotten it was his birthday, hadn't he? His birthday is the day you're born, it's one of the few pieces of information we don't really question, but Denji forgot it. But haven't you ever really wondered...

If Denji had celebrated his birthday? And why, how, he wanted to eat a cake? His father was violent and his mother died when he was very young, so is it really safe to say that Denji celebrated his birthday? 

I had another question, why does Fujimoto always seem to accentuate the cakes so much?

I really think that cake is one of the keys, because it's a tunnel of memories that resurfaces in Denji, the cake, his birthday, then Power's death, then his father's death. It's a sushi within a sushi (we're slowly taking things back in order), I think it's about layers that need to be taken back in chronological order, yes chronological 1) the death of Denji's father 2) the death of Power 3) Denji's birthday 4) the cake. Which brings us to this scene.

Was this scene shown not just metaphorical or symbolic, but actually happened? Denji having contracted with the control demon whose power is to control memory, in order to reshape him perfectly so as not to be happy and to do whatever she asks of him later. Why couldn't Denji open that door? Why does Aki's death sound so abruptly like Denji's absence, with a mini ellipsis that doesn't show us in concrete terms how Chainsaw Man killed him? I'm going too fast again, let's start again...

Makima hasn't made Denji unhappy, she's created a being made for unhappiness.

This scene refers to an anniversary, amnesia and despair, all ingredients that enabled Pochita to take complete possession of Denji and show us the most complete version of Chainsaw Man.

Which means Barem isn't lying, is he? Same here, I'm going too fast!

Third layer of sushi: the closer Denji gets to happiness, the more he doubts...

Denji manages to become himself again and succeeds in killing Makima, by devouring her. In a very simple and concrete way, Makima was devoured and this put an end to her existence. Keep this in mind. Nayuta is reborn, becoming Denji's little sister, lots of dogs surround them, Chainsaw Man becomes extremely popular and it's in this part 2 that Denji will feel the least like himself, the least like Chainsaw Man. Strangely enough, it's when he approaches a semblance of happiness that Denji pulls away from himself.

Barem really doesn't seem to be lying, does he? But once again, I'm going too fast, let's get on with it!

Fourth layer of sushi: Barem never lies 

This is something I quickly came up with, and it's so precise, I think his character is thought of that way, and it's his narrative role. Even though he's deceitful, manipulative and devious, the bro does NOT LIE. He didn't lie about the weapons attack, he didn't lie that he looked like a Chainsaw Man fan, and he doesn't lie in the last chapter. But same, I'm going too fast. 

Fifth layer of sushi: Nayuta betrayed by Chainsaw Man 

When Denji made the choice to become Chainsaw Man, the house, his source of happiness, was falling to ashes, his dogs, his cat were dying. Denji went through with his dream and abandoned the little sister who made him happy. Barem didn't impose misfortune on Denji; it was Denji who chose misfortune, despite Nayuta's fears. The happier he was with her, the more he lost himself. He left her in Barem's hands and provoked an existential crisis in her. Which made her reconnect with her old self. 

Sixth layer of sushi: an unblocked memory. 

The aftertaste that sticks to your palate is a piece of information I mentioned earlier. Makima has been devoured. What defines the Knights of the Apocalypse from the rest of the demons? Their memory. What if Nayuta had now understood how Chainsaw Man's power worked? 

Seventh layer of sushi: chapter 170. 

This explains Nayuta's severed head, a macabre mise-en-scène to make her brother lose his mind a little more. As for Barem, he doesn't lie to us and gives us instructions on how to read Chainsaw Man. He knows how to read Chainsaw Man, since he knows the two conditions for him to regain his full power because Nayuta gave them to him. For all this is nothing more than their death. 

Layer zero of sushi: the unknown. 

Now I'm entering the quintessential madness of my analysis. Makima contracted with Denji at a very young age, and gave him several orders: survive at all costs, remain miserable, and one day kill Power and Aki. Above all, she ordered him to contract with Pochita, hence Denji's reflex to hand his open wound directly to the demon. This misfortune, this amnesia due to the contract with Makima, this survival on his own, finally allowed a weakened Chainsaw Man to find a kindred spirit, a loved one. Believing in happiness, then destroying it, kept Chainsaw Man's power in check, those vain dreams only a human could imagine. Denji was a kind of Russian doll, holding back Pochita and his over-power. That's why these two conditions exist. 

To be unhappy, or to break this Russian doll. 

To be feared by all, or to be alone. 

Or kill Denji. 

To save Pochita. 

Layer - 100000 of sushi: did you think I'd finished losing my head? I don't think so. What if everything I've been telling you all along, taking things in order, were to be done in reverse? Take them out of order. I'll ask the questions so you can understand. Why is Makima so obsessed with Chainsaw Man? Why did the Knights of the Apocalypse fight Chainsaw Man in the underworld? How did they manage to retain their memories? Why start the story with a parricide? Why was Denji finely polished by Makima to welcome Pochita when Makima never saw Denji, the reason for her own death? How could she enter into a contract with someone she has never seen? 

Because someone is controlling the control demon itself. Just as it controls the way the story is presented to us. How can we trust an antagonist who controls memory? And an amnesiac protagonist? 

Why did Pochita do what he did in the underworld? Why this sudden fury? Why do demons hear chainsaws at the moment of their death? 

Because we've come full circle. More precisely, what you're reading is not part 2 but part 1, or to be more (MORE) precise, the end of Chainsaw Man will lead to its beginning. The desire to create a better world, to kill death, will lead to a temporal loop in the world that will never cross the apocalypse, blocked just ahead. 

Makima herself is controlled by her future self, which allows her to make references to the future and know the recipes for unleashing Chainsaw Man's power without understanding why, her future self knows Chainsaw Man, she loved him. So Makima also loves Chainsaw Man without really understanding why, amnesiac like Denji.

Denji doesn't kill his father, it's his old self who is killed. 

But another Denji tries to put an end to this... 

Spiral. 

Stuck between two worlds, two temporalities, morning (Asa), night (Yoru), someone is trying to put an end to this endless world, before dawn.

[crowbraincoin]

Where to make friends as an adult.

Recently I saw a devastating citation stating that most adults find it hard to make new friends as it feels like there is a lack of community and resources to do so. It takes nearly 50 hours of time together to move from mere acquaintance to casual friend. For more advanced levels of friendship, it can take more than 200 hours before you can consider someone “close”. (source)

So, though I'm not an expert by any means, I thought I'd offer some examples, ideas, and tips on finding and making friends as an adult! Check below the break :>

Ideas on where to find friends:

🆓 Local free (or cheap) events. I went to a presentation that included a free beer in the ticket cost and I had a blast! Most cities have an events calendar you can look at. Soon I'm attending a free event for the transgender community honoring those that came before us. 📖 Library programs. Most libraries that I've seen don't even require a library card, just your email or phone number to sign up for a program! Be it a presentation, class, or event, the library is the place to be!

❕Events of interest. I think about what I'm interested in and what I would like to connect with people about, and I search around to see what I can find. I use sites like Eventbrite to help me search.

💻 Online Communities. For those who can't make it out very often, consider joining online communities by searching for fandoms or topics of interest and see if there is a discord server, bluesky feed, tumblr community, or other communities on socials!

How to make friends:

Consistency. Once you find a place you enjoy going to, an organization you whose events your enjoy attending, or a series of events that takes place KEEP GOING!! Consistency is key, you have to keep interacting with folks to become friends with them.

Transparency. Just be yourself, but that doesn't mean you should be trauma dumping! Sharing personal detail allows us to feel closer to people, but make sure you're not sharing too much information! That can always come later when you're closer friends.

Confidence. You have to believe that you're someone that people want to be friends with. Don't believe it? Well ask your current friends why they are friends with you! You'll not only get a confidence boost, but also hopefully share a touching moment with your existing friends.

Follow up. If you want to be friends with someone you've met, you have to build up the nerve to further connect with them. This means sharing phone numbers or socials.

Start talking. The best way to do this is by asking questions or by giving a non-threatening compliment. Try not to make it all about you, though it is easiest to talk about the one thing we know best (ourselves) it typically won't help you make new friends! Show that you're interested in them, their thoughts and feelings on the topic of the event or a neutral topic such as musicians or food.

Questions. Ask open ended and non-invasive questions and follow through. Examples below!

Invite them out. Once you've established an acquaintance, invite them to hang out! BUT if you're the one inviting them out then you need to make sure you have some plan in mind. This could be going to a trivia night, a local event, or going to a new place together.

Further questions or topics of discussion:

I'm new to this [place or reocurring event] how long have you been coming here? Do you like it so far?

If you could be a crab or a lobster, which would you be and why? (make sure you have an answer ready!)

How long have you known about [place or event theme]? What got you interested in [place or event theme]?

(If at an event with drinks or food) I'm having trouble deciding what to choose, what should I try?

What superpower would you want and why?

What do you do for work? Do you like it? (follow by asking non-invasive questions about their job. This is easier when you have no clue what the job position actually is, lol).

Hey, I really like your style! Where did you get your outfit?/Who or what are your fashion influences?

What questions or topics of discussion do you typically go for when meeting new people?

[theerurishipper]

I feel like people really underestimate the importance of Dick being the first Robin. Like, reverse Robin AUs are interesting and such, but I just hope people realize that in the context of canon, they would never work. The reason Batman and Robin ever works is because the first Robin was Dick Grayson specifically. Because Bruce would never have taken in any child if Dick's tragedy hadn't specifically happened to mirror his own experience. Dick Grayson was the only one Bruce truly saw himself in first, because the fundamental event that defines them is the same. And he sees the opportunity to help someone the way he was never helped, to make sure that Dick didn't go down the dark path he did. So, my point here is that the only one Bruce actually made the choice to take in, the only one who could kickstart it all, is Dick Grayson, because he is the only one with whom Bruce could immediately empathize and connect with.

This never happened with any other Robin. He took in Jason because he missed Dick, he took in Tim because Tim forced himself into the role, he took in Steph because he was trying to make Tim come back to being Robin, and Dick made Damian Robin. Of course, he loved all of them, and they all have their unique relationships with Bruce that are very important and inform their characters, and he does need them too. But he specifically formed this connection with Dick that made Dick the only person he ever considered taking in. It took a very specific set of circumstances in Dick's backstory that made Bruce commit an impulse adoption that just isn't really present in any other Robin's story. And the reason Jason or Tim or Steph or Damian or anyone else whom Bruce has taken under his wing even got that chance is because of the work Dick Grayson put into Bruce Wayne.

Before Dick, Bruce was reckless and didn't care at all about himself, to the point of almost being borderline suicidal. He was more brutal, more violent, etc. The reason all this changed, is because of Dick Grayson specifically. He was the one with whom Bruce opened up, with whom Bruce was forced to grow up, to take responsibility and learn to take care of both Dick and himself. Dick, to Bruce was the one who brought "color to their [his and Alfred's] monochrome lives." Dick Grayson's specific brand of happiness and joy changed Bruce for the better. Dick gave Bruce hope. This is true for other Robins too, but only because they followed the precedent that Dick Grayson set, only because they slid into his role (they have their own interesting relationships with Bruce, but this specifically is from Dick that other Robins carried on. A legacy, if you will). Dick Grayson turned Bruce into the kind of man who would become a serial adopter.

Without his influence, without his precedent, there would be no Batfamily, because Bruce would never have gotten to the point where he would be able or willing to take in someone else and care for them properly (It took living through his trauma again to get him to take Dick in lmao). Hell, there would be no Batman because Bruce would have gotten himself killed a long time ago if Dick hadn't helped him learn self-care. Dick knows Bruce best, because he understands him on a fundamentally deeper level than anyone else in the world. And he's the only one who can make Bruce open up at his rawest, most downtrodden state. He is the only one who can give Bruce at his lowest that kind of hope. There is no Robin without Dick Grayson. It's literally a tribute to his parents, using their colors and the name his mother called him. He created that identity as a symbol of hope. He helped Bruce become the kind of man who could and would let other people that he had to care for into his life. Without Dick Grayson, you can simply forget about any other Robin or the Batfamily as a concept even existing.

[suuuupernovaaa]

The Book Seller - Azriel x f!OC (Part 3/3)

Summary: Azriel’s mate decides whether she wants to accept the mating bond, or if it’s all too much.

Content Warning: Adult, 18+, mentions of death and trauma, sexual content

Part 1, Part 2

The next day, Azriel came and fixed the door to my apartment. While he was there, he noticed a few cabinets askew, and fixed those as well.

Afterwards, we made our way down to sit outside the storefront and enjoy lunch by the river, and he noticed a wiggling floorboard, and a crooked bookshelf.

He fixed those, as well.

My heart swelled to watch him pouring energy into the small bookshop that had been my life for so long. It felt quite right, to see him wipe sweat from his brow as he aligned the book shelf just so, and the satisfied smile that crossed his face was enough to make my heart stop when he turned to me.

I laid awake all the previous night, thinking of the bits of information he’d shared with me. His childhood and the pain he’d endured. The way he found his brothers, Cassian and Rhysand. All the wars and trials they’d been through since then. The killing and the torture. The way the peaceful times we were living in now felt like a dream to him.

It had been hard to part ways with just a chaste kiss to his cheek, but I wasn’t sure how fast or slow we were going to move. Some mates took their time, and some took no time at all. I knew at least that he’d be back the next day, to fix the door and so much more.

I set a tray of food in front of us as we sat down to enjoy one of the last warm days we’d see for a while. The food was ordered from a cafe around the corner, as I knew the significance of preparing a meal for the man before me. Preparing and offering a meal was a sign of accepting the bond.

“Thank you for fixing all of that. My brother, I’ve asked him so many times, but he has a little one at home and not much time to help.”

He took a bite of his sandwich and nodded. “You can ask me now,” he said, and a fist squeezed around my heart.

“It’s a little funny that…” I trailed off, unsure how to finish the sentence.

“Go on,” he said, setting his food down.

“We don’t really know each other, do we? We met last night but it feels, almost, like I could rely on you. If I decided to.”

The corners of his lips turned up in a small smile, and that was his only response.

—

Azriel stopped by every day over the next week. Sometimes when the store was open, just to quickly say hi, and twice after to take a walk along the chilly river and talk, hands or arms clasped together. His company was becoming easy, comforting, and I was growing accustomed to him so quickly.

I wondered, was it because we were mates, or would we have found ourselves drawn to each other otherwise?

Despite the ease and excitement, something loomed over me. Azriel was not a normal fae, not a carpenter or a tradesman, not someone I met down the street or at a bar. He was the Shadowsinger, at the hand of our High Lord, and there were parts of his life I was not sure I would ever be privy to. Would that be a true partnership, if part of himself was kept hidden away?

If our era of peace ended, he’d have to put himself in danger. What did being a Shadowsinger truly entail? Would his duties take him away from time to time?We never talked about it, because I didn’t ask.

I was too afraid to. What if he told me he couldn’t share that? What if he told me something I didn’t want to hear? What if he thought it was too soon for me to ask?

When he stopped in the following Saturday, early in the morning with a tea in hand for me, my father was in the shop.

My family joined for dinner together every Wednesday night at my parents house, and my eldest sister had been quick to announce I’d met my mate this past family dinner.

Though they had all insisted on meeting him, I’d not yet broached the topic with Azriel. My family was loud, boisterous, always in each other’s business, and fiercely loving but sometimes overwhelming. Azriel was quiet, and I was nervous that he wouldn’t appreciate them.

My father, a tall man but still a dwarf compared to the Shadowsinger, did not balk when Azriel entered and strode to my desk, handing me the tea.

“Good morning. I came to tell you -“

“Is this him?” father interrupted, and I chided him with a tisk.

“Father!” I hissed, and Azriel straightened. It occurred to me then that truly, Azriel was older than my parents, but fatherhood had made my father mature in a way that only being a parent can, and he looked at Azriel through those eyes.

The tension grew in the air quickly as the two men stared at each other until my father, who had never been described as intimidating a day in his life, grabbed Azriel’s hand in his and shook it violently up and down.

“Great to meet you, son,” my father said to Azriel, the High Lord’s Shadowsinger, his elder by 100 years, as if he was any other man on the street.

To his credit, Azriel returned the shake with enthusiasm, and tipped his head as a sign of respect. “You as well, sir,” he replied.

Father waved his hand to dismiss the title. “No formalities in family. Will you join us for dinner this week?”

Azriel looked to me, and I tried to communicate my apologies with my expression.

He cleared his throat. “Actually, I came to tell you, Holly, I leave tonight and will be gone about a week.”

I gripped my tea in my hands as my father wisely made some mumbled excuse to leave us alone at my desk. I stood from my chair and came around to meet Azriel, perching on the edge of my desk.

“Oh. Um, work?”

He nodded.

“I wanted to ask… how much I might be allowed to know. In the future.”

His face grew dark and serious. “I would tell you anything you want to know, though some of it you may not want to hear. It is not always pleasant, extracting secrets.”

I nodded gravely. “Oh. Right.”

“Which brings me to another point… being my mate, it could land you in trouble. One day. Soon or in the distant future. I’d feel better if you could defend yourself.”

“Fight?” I asked, glancing around at the book store to make sure no one was listening.

“I’ll do everything in my power to make sure you never have to, but I would feel more at ease if I knew you could defend yourself. If need be.”

I wrapped my arms around myself. This was exactly what I’d been afraid of - the danger that came with the man in front of me. It only took a week to bubble to the surface.

“Cassian and Nesta have offered to train you.”

“Why not you?”

A small smile crossed his lips. “Just this week, while I’m gone. I’ll join once I return. I thought you’d be more comfortable, with Nesta there.”

Nervous, I reached out and grabbed his hand. He held mine fiercely.

“Will you be safe? Are you going somewhere dangerous?”

He shook his head, stepping closer to me. “No, no one will even know I’m there,” he replied quietly, and pressed his forehead to mind. I closed my eyes, breathing in his scent.

“Do you promise?” I whispered.

To my shock, Azriel’s lips found mine then. For the first time. Soft, warm, and all enveloping, I pressed my body flush to his and opened my mouth to allow him entry, a soft sigh escaping.

I had been waiting, every moment since we’d met, for him to kiss me. Stealing glances at his lips, kissing his cheek with every departure, it wasn’t enough.

He snaked his arms around my waist, and I held his beautifully sculpted face in my hands as his tongue explored.

Every single part of me was on fire in a way I had never imagined possible. I could feel sparks shooting from my toes and the ends of my hair. Azriel groaned quietly as he pressed me tighter to him, and I wrapped my arms around his neck to hold him in place.

He tasted like mint tea and I wove my hands through his silky, dark hair, desperate for more.

Too fast, too suddenly, Azriel pulled away and smiled down at me. Only a moment later, I heard my father approaching.

He must have heard him first.

I removed my hands from his hair and smoothed it, removing any traces that I had been there, as we continued to smile at each other.

“Cassian will fetch you at 6am tomorrow, and have you back in time to open at 10,” he said, and my face fell.

“Azriel, 6am? You cannot be serious.”

He was laughing as he walked out the door.

—

The next week was grueling. Every morning, I met Cassian outside at 6am so he could prove to me how weak I truly was. I had no strength, no skill, no balance.

Nesta assured me she had been the same before Cassian had forced her to train, but it was hard to believe, watching her move with such grace and strength now.

Not only was the training draining me, but I missed Azriel. It felt strange to admit it. Two weeks ago, I had only known him by reputation. Now, a day without him was painful.

Near the end of the week, I’d asked the girls to run the shop for me for the day so I could rest, and Nesta invited me to join her for breakfast after training, just the two of us.

Sweaty and tired, I slumped at the table and asked the house for some water and tea. It appeared magically, delighting me as it had every time this past week.

“Can I ask you something a little personal?” I asked once I’d drank the entire glass of water, and Nesta nodded warily.

Though I did consider us friends, Nesta was still guarded, and I wanted to tread carefully.

“Is it hard, to be Cassian’s mate?”

She surprised me by laughing. “In what sense? He is very annoying.”

“I mean, him being who he is. The position he holds.”

“Ah,” she said, nodding. “I don’t know if I can say. I was human before, and all I’ve known of being fae is these people, this life,” she gestured to the grand home around us, and I understood.

Her ushering into this life had been straight into grandeur. She had not lived life as a normal high fae, only royalty.

“I asked you to come here last week because I wanted you to meet Azriel. Something felt right, when I thought of you two together. I can’t explain it. I almost knew. Once the idea occurred to me, of you two together, I couldn’t shake it. It nagged at me until I brought you here.”

Though I had suspected, she hadn’t confirmed it before.

I pursed my lips and looked down at the full plated breakfast before me.

“He seems worth it, to me. Worth whatever… trouble, it could bring. To be his,” I said finally, picking up my fork. “I don’t know if I’m worthy of him.”

Nesta reached over and grabbed my arm. “You are. I would not trouble with you, if you weren’t.” She spoke plainly, stating a fact with no emotion behind it, and nodded in return.

—

I returned home early in the afternoon, greeted my employees, and headed up for a long bath and possibly a nap.

After soaking for a very long time to remove all the sweat and grime, I dressed in a simple tan dress, and pulled a book from my night stand. The bath had rejuvenated me enough to no longer need to sleep, so I sat next to the window to read.

Only ten minutes later, I closed the book, unable to focus on the words on the page. They danced around, always spelling Azriel in my mind.

A scary but not entirely unwelcome thought greeted me then: I was in love with the shadowsinger. With his soft smiles and tight expressions. His attention to detail and need to care and fix. His past and present and hopefully, his future.

I wasn’t just falling in love with him because the living bond between us brought us together, but for who he was. I would have loved him without this bond. Would have been struck by his beauty and grace. The quiet assuredness with which he moved through the world.

As I got lost deeper and deeper into my own thoughts, a knock came at the door. Probably Aurelia or Jessiminda, needing something for the store. I placed my book on the shelf before crossing my small apartment to pull open the door.

Neither girl stood there, but instead, Azriel barreled in, sweeping me into his arms in a warm embrace that I eagerly returned.

“You’re back!” I exclaimed, breathing him in. How fully I missed him really hit me then, as I held him safely in my arms. It was as if something had been wrong the last week, something missing from me, a part of my soul, and here it was, returned.

“I came back as soon as I could,” he said, his face in my hair. The unspoken part of that sentence seemed to be, to get back to you.

“How was training?” he asked as he pulled away, just a few inches to look at me, and I could not stop myself from rolling my eyes.

“I’m sore everywhere. I could not kick anyone’s ass.”

He laughed, a low chuckle. “Give it time.”

“I have been thinking… Jessaminda wants more hours, and the store is doing well. I could have her open every morning for me, so I only work afternoons.”

His smile grew. “You don’t want to train at six am.”

“Of course not. But also, it would mean more time for me.”

For us.

Through the bond, I felt a ripple of joy. Only once or twice before had I felt what I thought were Azriel’s emotions - we wouldn’t truly be able to feel each other until I accepted the bond, and we hadn’t discussed that yet.

“Good idea,” was his full reply, and I beamed at him.

“Are you hungry? I could make a stew.”

He raised his eyebrow. “Are you offering to cook for me? Now?”

I sauntered away from him into the kitchen, gathering the supplies I needed and lighting the stove.

“Sit, and tell me about your trip,” I instructed as I began chopping. He sat at my small dining table, looking as nervous as he was capable of after centuries of skillfully hiding his emotions, and told me of his trip. Simple fact finding and information gathering in the autumn court, where he’d also met up with some old friends. I asked questions, and he readily answered, giving me any information I wanted to know, which brought comfort to my heart.

When the stew was done, I filled two bowls, and turned to him.

“Before I give this to you, I want you to know… I think you’re the most incredible man I’ve ever met. If you weren’t my mate, I would still find you as handsome, as impressive, as captivating, as awe-inspiring as I do now. I don’t care that we’ve only just met or there’s so much we have to learn about each other. I’m greatly looking forward to that.”

I sat down across from him, and wondered if my family would be upset that we’d done this in private. Many fae made a ceremony of this moment, but I couldn’t imagine that was something Azriel would want, and I didn’t really either.

There was a look in his eyes that I thought might be wonder, or awe, I set the bowl and spoon down in front of Azriel, and waited.

He lifted the spoon and stared at me with such intensity that it made my stomach churn with nerves.

“I have waited 500 years for you. Had I known what I was waiting for, I would have agreed to wait 500 more.” His voice trembled with emotion, and tears pricked at the corners of my eyes.

We were silent as he took his first bite, and finished the bowl in mere minutes. I hadn’t even touched mine, I realized, and took my first bite as he took his last.

We stared at each other then, the air charged, and I felt it. The bond strengthening, solidifying between us, and I closed my eyes and listened.

I could feel him so clearly. His pain, his joy, and drowning everything else out, how badly Azriel wanted me in that moment. How desperate he was to touch me, and the thread he was using to hold himself back until he got a signal from me.

When I opened my dark eyes, his golden eyes bore into mine, passion sparking behind them.

“Yes,” was all I said, and all he needed, to sweep the table aside and pull me into his sturdy, waiting arms.

His mouth found mine eagerly, and his hands roamed my body. I found myself beyond glad I’d had time to bathe before he arrived.

He lifted me up by the shelf of my rear, and I wrapped my legs around his waist. He walked the few steps over to my bed and without breaking the kiss, lay me on my soft green bedding, kneeling between my spread legs.

“Azriel,” I moaned, and I felt how badly he wanted me as he pressed himself into me. I arched my back, searching for more friction.

He reached down, pulling at the hem of my dress slowly, pushing it up over my thighs, his fingers trailing over my stomach, and I sat up so he could pull it over my head.

I made quick work of the buttons of his shirt, revealing his broad golden chest and firm abs.

“Gods,” I hissed as he tossed the shirt across the room. This sculpted angel before me was enough to send me into a spiral. He pushed me back onto the bed, and looked down at me as something to devour.

“I need to taste you,” he said, his voice all breath and gravel, and I nodded eagerly.

He started at my neck with lazy, languid kisses, running his warm tongue over my skin, and then down. Over my chest, he stopped to take my nipple into his mouth, biting and sucking gently. I arched my back, pressing myself into his mouth, and we groaned together.

Down, further down he went, trailing his tongue over my naval until he reached the apex of my thighs, and did not waste any time teasing me.

He pulled my sensitive bud between his lips and sucked. I was so swollen, so sensitive, and so desperate for him. I moaned his name and put my hands into his hair, guiding him as he truly devoured me. He slowed and sped, and stuck his tongue deep inside me, causing another loud moan to escape my chest.

“Good girl,” he murmured, and I nearly came at the sound of it.

“I need you,” I replied.

“Need me where, baby?”

“Inside me. Please. Now,” I panted.

He stood up slowly, torturing me, and removed the buckle from his pants, and slid them down over taught, muscular thighs.

The bulge in his underwear was obscenely large, and I wondered how on earth it was going to fit. He removed his underwear and sprang free, and my mouth watered.

He was on top of me once more, his fingers dragging through my wet folds, circling my clit, as I moaned into his mouth.

I spread my legs as wide as they would go, and reached down to grip his considerable length, and place it at my entrance.

“Please,” I breathed, and my mate’s eyes met mine. I felt him, his love and his admiration and his lust, surging through the bond. “Azriel.”

“Holly,” he whispered, reverently, worshipping my name as he worshipped my body, and slid slowly inside me.

“Gods!” I exclaimed, and dug my nails into his back.

He groaned, stopping to allow me to adjust to his size. “Good girl. You can take it all. Be a good girl for me,” he whispered in my ear.

When he was finally fully seated in me, to the hilt, he stilled again. I felt impossibly full but gods, so good, and I wiggled, encouraging him to move.

He chuckled and placed a rough kiss on my mouth before beginning to move. Slowly, carefully at first.

“More. I won’t break.”

He moaned again then, a sweet sound in my ears, and picked up the pace, sliding in and out of me faster and faster until he reached a punishing pace, and I was making noises in his ear I’d never made before.

“Come for me, mate,” he demanded in my ear, and I came apart around him with a blinding scream, clamping my legs around his waist and scratching my nails down his bag.

He groaned a moment later, finding his release, and collapsed on top of me.

I was thoroughly devoured.

—

We stayed in my apartment for four days together, learning and exploring each other, and I had never felt so blissfully happy.

Or so sore.

The frenzy. I’d heard of it before. It was a dangerous time for newly fated males, but Azriel and I stayed locked up together for the worst of it.

When we were not actively learning each other, we talked, or ate, or slept, or read together. I thought life like this forever might be okay, but of course, it couldn’t last.

On the fifth day, Azriel recommended we might emerge and let our friends and family know we had affirmed the bond, as if they didn’t know. I had sent word to my employees to run the store without me, to my family that I’d miss dinner, and I knew he’d sent word to his family too.

I had not known they’d planned a party, or else I would have insisted we stay locked away for much longer.

As we left through my apartment window, I already wished we were back inside, Azriel inside me and all around me, where nothing and no one else existed.

Sadly, we had responsibilities outside, and decisions to make.

Like where we would live. The thought of Azriel residing with me in my small apartment was cozy, but laughable. He spent most of his time at the House of Wind, but also had a room in the High Lord’s newest home, and his townhome central to the city.

I had suggested it might be nice to have a place all our own. Near the water, and my store, somewhere just for us.

Azriel had liked the idea so well, he’d taken me against the window as we looked out at the city, planning.

We arrived at the House of Wind as the sun was setting, entering through a door in the courtyard that I’d not yet seen. Azriel led me to his room, dark and quiet and without decoration, and I wondered what our new home would look like.

He opened his closet and from within, drew out a golden gown, the color of his eyes. It was beautiful, floor length with a plunging neck line, long adorned sleeves, and intricate bead work throughout.

“For you,” he said, bringing it over to me. “From Feyre.”

I reached out to touch the most lovely dress I’d ever seen. “I can’t accept this.”

He shrugged. “You can,” he replied simply. Money had not yet crossed my mind - what kind of salary did a Shadowsinger draw? Surely more than a book peddler.

I turned and allowed him to remove my dress, and once I stood nearly naked before him, I leaned over the black dresser in front of me, bearing myself to him as I stepped out of my shoes.

His breath hissed between his teeth, and I smiled. I turned and placed my hands on his shoulders, stepping into the dress. He drug it up my body, and stepped around me to zip it up. It fit perfectly, making curves where I’d thought I had none. I turned to look in the mirror, pushing my hair from my face, and decided on a simple, long braid, so as not to distract from the dress.

When I finished, Azriel grabbed my hand. “I also have this for you,” he said, holding out a ring. A thin gold band adorned with one shining purple jewel. Simple, and lovely, and I wordlessly spread my fingers so he could slide it on.

Two weeks ago, I was alone. I was lonely. Time is a funny thing.

—

I expected at most, a handful of people when we entered the dining room, but as we grew closer, the chatter of a crowd was hard to miss.

I gasped when we entered. The hall was decorated beautifully, in purple and gold everywhere, flowers and tapestries and other finery as far as the eye could see.

Everyone in my family was there. My parents, all three siblings and their spouses, and their children as well, five in total.

All mixed in with Azriel’s family, Rhysand and Feyre, Cassian and Nesta, Amren and Mor standing with a beautiful woman who had to be Feyre’s third sister, hanging on the arm of a stunning man with red hair.

“Oh gods!” I shouted.

“Surprise!” Cassian hollered, igniting a laugh through the small crowd.

“Aunt Holly!” my youngest nephew ran to me as I entered and continued taking in the scene, and I bent down to scoop him into my arms. Nearing five, I would soon be unable to pick him up and throw him around, and I relished in holding him when I could.

I turned to Azriel, who smiled at me with mischief in his eyes. “Did you know?”

He shrugged, confirming it. “It was Feyre’s idea.”

Well, my mate was nothing if not clever. He knew I could not be mad if it was my High Lady’s idea. She approached then, arms open to wrap me and my nephew wiggling in my arms in a tight hug.

“I don’t know how you feel about surprises, but it didn’t feel right not to celebrate a new family member.”

I tried hard, but couldn’t resist a small bow. “Thank you, My Lady.”

She tisked. “Enough of that today. Just Feyre.”

Aiken jumped from my arms and ran back to my family, and we spent the rest of the night laughing and drinking as our two families blended. The atmosphere in the room was light, joyful, and calm.

I knew it would not always be this way. There would be very hard times ahead, and times of even greater joy and celebration.

Azriel and I were just getting started. It was all so new and fresh, but I was so sure of it too. So sure of him. The mating bond flowed between us, steady and strong, and we felt when the other was ready to end the night. I saw my family off before Rhysand and Mor helped them all home, promising we’d be at every Wednesday dinner we could, and we bid Feyre and her sisters farewell.

We returned to Azriel’s room quietly, hands clasped together, and I wondered if someone could be too happy.

If it was dangerous, to be too content, so quickly. To have so much change come into your life and to be so incandescently happy with it.

Was I asking for something terrible? Was I inviting in chaos and danger, simply by being overjoyed?

If so, I would not have changed a thing. Would not have chosen another mate, another family, another life for all the coin on the continent.

Azriel wrapped me in his arms as we fell asleep a while later, and I listened to his heartbeat in his chest, counting them.

Thu-thump. Thu-thump. Thu-thump.

A beautiful sound. The sound of my mate, alive and well.

“What are you thinking of?” he asked, sensing my overwhelming emotions down the bond.

“That I love you,” I replied quietly, eyes still closed, heart beating wildly.

I heard his speed up, too.

A confusing mix of emotions came through the bond. Pain, longing, fear, lust, but there under all of that, there was love.

“I don’t deserve you. You are good and pure. You are kind. Faultless.” His gravely voice was strained, and I propped myself up to see his golden eyes shining.

“You deserve every happiness in the world, and I will see to it that you have them, my mate.”

He leaned up, pressing a chaste kiss to my lips.

“I love you, too,” he said, and shouted it down the bond as well.

We fell asleep intertwined in his dark sheets, only love enveloping us.

The book seller and the shadowsinger.

@rcarbo1

[probablyspooky]

Traitor (2010 Predator x Fem! Reader )

Plot: You’re mated to the Berserker predator, and his hunting reserve slot comes up, but you are in the middle of your cycle for the month, and for the desire to sire his offspring, he brings you along for the trip. But while along for the trip, you get mistaken for one of the humans who were recently dropped on the planet for game. Thinking you have head trauma, they drag you along for the ride, causing your mate to get even more aggressive and even a little jealous.

Next

Soft moans could be heard from within Berserkers chambers, even the youngest of yautja could understand what he was doing, not all understood his choices in mates, but one thing was for certain, he really did seem to enjoy you.

Feeling his hot breath on the back of your neck, as his hand was held forcefully on the front of your neck, you were moaning quietly into his rough, course hand.

His other hand wrapped firmly around your waist, as his fingers grazed your clit, giving you gentle swirls of pleasure. Drool began to dribble out the corner of your mouth, feeling all the length of his member pulse into you over and over.

The sounds of your juices mixing with his as he continuously thrusted into you seemed to excite him even more than before. His deep sunken eyes seemed to be in pure ecstasy, his large mandibles clicking against your back skin, you whimpered under his touch.

So here you were, sitting on your mate's member, while he sat in his chair, moaning into his hands as he growled in pleasure from underneath you. You could feel the pleasure pooling in your stomach as there was a  knock at the door.

You had recently been cleared by the tribes healers, and you were clear to produce an offspring for Berserker, he didn’t want to waste a single second of time. It took a year of tests, a year of poking your body, bruises from all the blood work you had to endure. He almost called the whole thing off until last month. After your period, the healer informed Berserker that you could in fact give him an offspring.

Berserker grunted in annoyance, and shouted at whomever it was to come in, not releasing you from his grasp.

The door slid open, and in walked one of the members from his hunting team, he wore a mask with long tusks that protruded from his lower jaw. (The tracker predator)

“What is it Tusk?” Berserker groaned, continually  pulsing into you, not breaking eye contact with him.

“Our time for the game reserve has come, we leave in an hour,” Tusk responded, staring at you in awe.

You began to shake as it was becoming too much to bare, you began to cry out as Berserker gripped your waist tighter.

“Very well, prepare the others”, your mate replied, leaning you forward and thrusting into you from behind, grunting as his climax was about to peak. Your legs shook, as you reached your climax, small squirts of you shooting onto your mates torso, this sending him over the edge as he smelled you, bringing him over the edge, he spilled into you, filling you up.

“You are...you are going on a trip?” you asked between breaths, sitting up on your mates lap, him caressing your back.

“Yes, it’ll be awhile...how much longer do we have on your cycle?”, he asked, crooking his head to look at you.

“Elder said I have about 5 days left, tomorrow being the day I will be most fertile.”

“I do not wish to miss a day without you,” he replied, grabbing a thin fur and wrapping it around your torso, “Perhaps I will sneak you along”

“If you want me to go, I will.” you replied, leaning your head onto his shoulder, taking in his scent.

“Very well, I will make sure all the necessary materials for you will be with us as well.” he stated, standing you up, then himself, replacing his loin cloth around his waist, he led you out of the room, seeing the others begin to pack up the weapons and materials needed for a trip such as this.

Berserker then left you in the company of Tusk, who was the closest thing you had to a friend on this planet. Once Berserker had left, Tusk turned to you.

“Do you know where we are going?” Tusk asked, looking down at you,

“I do not, but where he wishes I go, I will go.” you replied, looking up at the young yautja.

“I can show you”, Tusk said kneeling down and showing you his wrist, after typing into the control, a small hologram appeared, and after a few more clicks it zoomed from the planet you were currently on, to the galaxy, then zooming back into another smaller planet, with more than one sun.

“This is the hunting reserve,” Tusk started, “Every so often we get to go for fun, or some un-blooded get to go to learn important trapping methods, for alpha this is going to be a hunting trip for pleasure, rather than for glory”

“I see,” you said, looking in awe at the small device

“Yes, once we land there we will give you a tracker and map, to be sure of your safety, Alpha would get rather upset if we let something happen to you”

Soon after this conversation you found yourself fully clothed in nice garments, nothing too fancy as you were about to spend the week in a jungle mating with Berserker, but nice enough you would be protected from the elements. Sitting in the back of the ship you watched the planet you called home get smaller as the distance between you two increased, and you were soon on your way to the reserve planet, besides Tusk, Berserker and you there was one other yautja who joined you on this trip. Falcon who rather die by the blade rather than by gun, the four of you flew through space to make your way to the game reserve.

The trip there wasn’t very long, as these trips were often quick, and they sent yautja there quiet frequently, other clans often clashed, so it was usually best for you to land far apart.

Once the ship had settled deep in the forest, you began to set up camp, it wasn’t very hard as previous members of the Jungle hunters clan often reused the same base, as it was there, and lined with trophies from previous hunts.

Berserker walked up to you, and handed you a small box, within the box was a tarp, and some rope, this informed you that he was giving you shelter. Taking this you walked to the edge of the camp, a bit away as to not smell the decaying corpses, but close enough that you were in sight at all times.

As stated before there are other yautja on the planet, and not all of them know about you, or your mate.

While setting up your tent, you felt uneasy, a familiar feeling you have felt before, throwing the tarp over the rope and securing it to the ground, you turned to look into the wilderness. You’ve only felt this way once before, and it was how you met your mate in the past.

Before you could turn and call out to your mate, a grapple net shot out from the foliage and incased you in wire netting, you began to scream out in fear, and struggled against the binds that now help you.

Before your eyes, the familiar sight of a yautja cloaking device turning off appeared right before your eyes, and you looked up to see a younger yautja, not one of the clan you were bound to.

The young male looked at you confused, as you were wearing clothes that of one of high honor from his home planet. He knelt down, touching the net that held you, and retracted it back in, but not letting you go, as soon as the net was gone, he grabbed you back the neck and began to inspect your face. To the right of your face you were obviously marked with the sigil of the hunter clan.

Before he could realize his mistake, the familiar sound of heavy footsteps could be heard behind him. When the yautja turned to see what it was, Berserker quickly knocked him down with his fist, knocking the young one to the ground. Tusk and Falcon came up shortly after, and soon took note of what was going on, they quickly grabbed the young one and took him to the center of the camo, stringing him up by chains.

Berserker turned his attention back to you, and cupped your cheek softly.

“Did he harm you?” he asked, taking note of any injuries the net may have inflicted upon you.

“No, I was just started...” you replied, sitting up in the dirt, your clothes now dirty from struggling on the dirt from the net.

“I will have him tortured for touching you” 

Berserker quickly stood up and made his way back into the camp, giving orders to Tusk and Falcon to not feed the young one for the duration of the trip. He then reached into one of the crates they had brought, and pulled out a small silver disk, walking back over to your area, he knelt down, and slid it into your breast cup.

“What is it?” you asked, looking down into your shirt

“A tracker, you are free to move about the island, it gives off sound that most creatures will not like, and it will beep very loudly if you come too close to any of our traps.”

You smiled at the thought of him wanting you safe, and you pressed your forehead against his.

“Thank you” you smiled

“Will you do that thing?” he purred, crooking his head at you

Blushing slightly, you stood up as he knelt down, taking your hands and cupping his face, you placed your lips onto his forehead giving him a soft kiss against his tough skin.

After a bit the group set out to go set traps before the newest shipment of game arrived, you tagged along, sitting upon Berserkers shoulders like a prize in a store. You watched as they set traps, and laid out cover, taking note of any hiding places any game would wanna hide in.

Growing bored of watching them work, you were given permission to walk the forest, and that you did. You walked away from the group, and began to take note of any unique things you found. Before you knew it , you were lost.

You hadn’t been paying much attention to tracking teaching Berserker had been trying to teach you, so you tried your best to walk back to camp.

But soon your ears were filled with the screams of the new game that was falling in from the dropships. 

Not knowing what type of creatures these were, you rushed into a empty stump as an attempt to hide from them. You could hear their thuds of their bodies as they began to land and hit the ground. After the screaming had died down, you tried to peak out from the stump, only to find another woman staring directly at you. 

You gasped and quickly ducked back down into the stump, but you could hear her steps coming closer.

You looked up from the opening of the stump and met her eyes.

“Where the hell are we?” she demanded to know, pointing her gun at you.

You dared not respond to her, and ducked back down.

“Hey,” her voice could be heard, but this time it was a bit calmer than before, “You can come out, I won’t hurt you..”

You felt a hand gently tap your head, and soon you began to find yourself stepping out of the stump.

“What’s your name?” she asked, looking around to make sure there was no one watching the two of you, “I’m Isabelle”

You just looked at her with wide eyes, as it had been years since you had last seen another human, and you knew better than to converse with the hunted, so you just stared at her with wide eyes, eventually you could hear more voices, and while you tried to take a step away to go find Berserker, Isabelle grabbed your and and led you to the other voices.

Eventually you found yourself surrounded by other humans, mostly men, and as they continued to argue about where they were or who each other is, they had all come to the conclusion that they were all captured and brought here based on their backgrounds. While everyone was chatting, and by everyone I mean those with weapons, you felt a slap hit your rump, causing you to yelp out in surprise, causing everyone to turn and look at you.

You were currently staring at Stan the inmate, who was chuckling under his breath about how nice you looked in those weird clothes.

“Hey leave her alone, shithead,” Isabelle said, grabbing your arm and pulling you back, “She’s got head trauma or something, she won’t talk”

“Great, more dead weight,” Royce said, shrugging his shoulders, and walking past the group, “Where is the other guy?”

The whole group looked around, only hearing the wind blow in the trees, until the silence was broken by a groaning, agonizing sound of Cuchillo calling for help. The group grabbed you, and began to lead you towards the sound, the silver disc in your chest cup began to beep quietly, so you quickly stand your ground, and refuse to move.

“Hey what's wrong?” Isabelle asked, looking at the group and then back at you, but you refused to move.

“I’ll stay with her,” Edwin said, sitting down in the dirt next to you, with that the rest of the group went to go follow the cries for help.

Edwin didn’t say much, in fact he said nothing at all, he just stared at you with this blank expression, it made you uneasy. Soon the group returned, informing the two of you that Cuchillo was dead, and there were traps all around him. Royce gave you a weird look, and soon the group was on the move again.

But in the trees there was a beast, not your beast, but one of them, Tusk stood amongst the trees, and using his communicator, he informed Berserker that the group was making their way to the camp.

“Good, I’ll have her by my side soon again,” Berserker replied, using his cloak and disappearing into thin air, he and Falcon waited in the camp for the group to approach.

[dumbbitchenergy17]

Where the Wild Things Are - Chapter 9

Chapter Nine: Do I Look Like Her?

Plot: Wild men or monstrous infected creatures, the world is wild and ravaged by Cordecyps but some are raised in it and flourish becoming a wild thing.

Word Count: 4.2K

Pairing: Joel Miller x Platonic!Teen!Reader, Ellie Williams x Platonic!Reader

Warnings: canon-typical fighting/violence, injuries, harsh language, tw: trauma from abusive mother, description of child neglect/abuse

—————

Mama, I'm chasin' a ghost Do I look like him? (Like what?) Like him.

“I want to go on patrols.”

It came out of nowhere in Tommy’s eyes. He had joined you to bring new feed and supplies to the stables when you popped the question. Since you had started living with Tommy and Maria you have opened from your shell more. There were times when you would slip in your progress retreating to the old habits from when you first arrived. But being in a more stable home that was more active in inviting you to ‘family’ time you say you gained a closer relationship with Tommy and Maria in just a  few months of staying with them still winter but it was settling entering March as the cold and snowstorms seem to retreat for the upcoming spring.

“I…I don’t think that’s a smart idea,” Tommy says slowly dropping the bag of feed by the other bags they were bringing in.

“Why not, I’ve been doing this for almost three months now and this past month has been no problems,” You question pulling out a knife to cut open the bag of feed to pour in the troughs for the horses, “You said it would be good for me to get more comfortable around others. What better than patrolling,” You say pointing your knife at him and reminding him of his past words.

He could already hear the disagreements from the other council members even outside that, especially Joel and their last argument in regards to you. Despite telling him to reach out to you if he wants you in his care from what he hears there is nothing. But the look you were giving him and he knew working this job was good for you and all but he could tell you were getting antsy and didn’t know what you might try if he said no.

“Look…how about the next time I take Ellie out shooting you join us,” He starts and he sees you perk up, “If I think you can handle it I'll see about you joining in patrols.”

A wide grin takes over your face and it comes as a shock to both of you when you hug him, “Thank you, Tommy!” You seem to realize what you did quickly pulling away as if it burned you immediately shrinking in, “I’m sorry…I don’t know,”

“It’s alright kid,” Tommy reassures you, “If I decide you’re good, and only if I think so, it’s small patrol routes and with larger groups, nothing smaller or longer than that you hear me,” He says and you nod and for the rest of the day there seems to be a pep in your step and a boost of energy.

At the Tipsy Bison Tommy stares off into the nothing with Joel returning with their drinks in hand, “Something on your mind?” Joel asks sensing the conflict in his brother’s demeanor. Tommy sighs taking a swig of his drink, letting it rest on the counter.

“I’m thinking of letting the kid join patrols,” Tommy says and immediately winces at the loud noise Joel makes.

“Hell no, Tommy! Did you hit your head or somethin’ We have no idea what could happen if you let her leave Jackson with those raiders,” Joel says and Tommy rubs his temples.

“Joel it’s just a thought, Jesus Christ. Look I’m having her join Ellie and I’s shooting sessions together and if I feel like she can handle herself I'll have her join larger patrols on shorter routes,” Tommy says before giving his brother a look, “Why are you so concerned for her? The last time we spoke about her you’ve made zero effort in trying to reach out to her. I already talked to Maria about it and she’s on board.”

Joel sends his brother a dirty look, “For your information, I have tried but she completely acts as if I don’t exist.”

“I wonder why..” Tommy mumbles under his breath, “Look Joel I understand why she’s hesitant to be around you, not a lot of fond memories have happened with you two. You can’t just force yourself around her. If she wants you involved in her life great, if not you can’t be mad at her for that.”

Joel is silent at Tommy’s words looking away spotting you and Ellie walking down the street. Ellie speaks animatedly with their hands while you nod along with a small smile as you throw in your two cents. He always has an outside view of who you really are, never able to be there to see the real you. Tommy rests a hand on his brother's shoulder drawing his attention back.

“Joel I wouldn’t have told you if I thought you didn’t need to know,” He starts having seen the way he looks at you as if you were his own but too afraid to admit it, “You care for her, just like you care for Ellie. She’ll come to you when she’s ready.”

Joel nods silently before the conversation drifts to other topics his hand absentmindedly drifting to the broken watch on his wrist. He couldn’t explain why he felt such a need to look after and protect you.

The morning of joining Ellie and Tommy's excursion was filled with excitement and nerves. Maria fixed your coat for the millionth time looking over you like a fusing mother that makes your heart ache.

“You have everything you need in your pack?” She asks and you nod. You double and triple-checked your bag that Maria helped pack for you with anything she could think of you needing despite only being gone for a few hours.

“Maria we gotta get going,” Tommy calls out as one of the stablehands handles the trio of horses. Maria waves him off before cupping your face and tucking stray hairs behind your ears.

“Be smart listen to Tommy and if anything goes wrong you head straight back here no questions asked,” She says before pulling out one final item. Your eyes widen seeing your revolver in her hands. You thought you left it in the cabin all those months ago when being brought here. It looks like it’s of much better quality as you hold it in your hands lightly tracing the carving onto the wooden handle.

‘03/21’

Maria sees the surprise on your face change to a frown as you look over the numbers. It’s Tommy calling out that stops your internal thoughts and you give Maria a weak smile tucking your revolver into your holster. You see Joel speaking to Tommy clapping his shoulder before he says something to Ellie she nods hugging Joel before climbing onto her horse Shimmer. You move to and climb on Red petting her neck as she makes sounds of contentment.

“Kid,” You turn surprised to see Joel standing beside you, He holds out a rifle and you take a brief look of surprise at him interacting with you that isn’t yelling or fighting, “Be smart out there.” You both stare at each other before you nod accepting the well taken care of weapon seeing the initials carved into the stock. ‘J.M.’

“Thanks, Joel,” You say and he nods stuffing his hands in his pockets and giving a brief nod. Slinging the strap across your shoulders before grabbing the reins. Tommy looks back at the two girls.

“You girls ready?” The pair of you nod and with a snap of the reins and a call to the guards the large gates open to the open world and you’re off. You take one last fleeting glance at Joel and Maria standing beside each other, Maria gives a wave while Joel is silent an unreadable expression on his face as he watches you all disappear in the horizon.

The open mountain range is peaceful lowering the binoculars and do not see any infected on the other side of the range, “I’m not seeing anything,” You say lowering them as you pass them off to Ellie who takes a look while Tommy uses his rifle which has a scope on it.

“Nah I got a few clickers coming through the trees, look at the large rock coming behind that,” Tommy explains and Ellie moves the binoculars before making a noise having spotted them. She quickly passes it off to you as you take a look taking his note and soon you spot a trio of clickers appear from the treeline. The horrid infected twitches using clicking noises to listen as they stumble around. The crack of a gunshot makes you flinch slightly seeing one of them drop dead. The other two screech and start running around. Another bullet hits the second one in the leg before getting it on the head. The final shot misses seeing the snow shot in the air from the bullet hitting it before a clean headshot ends the event. Seeing Ellie lower the rifle as Tommy pats her shoulder.

“Nice job, just remember to anticipate the drop from a distance,” Tommy reminds the young girl who nods. “There’s a small town nearby that might give you some opportunities to show off.” He directs and you nod. You all return to your horses saddling up before following Tommy through the mountain trails he knows. Soon you find yourself on a ridge looking down at the town.

“Up ahead by the bank a pair of runners,” Tommy directs and you sling your rifle off your shoulder lining up the shot seeing the infected at the bank on the outskirts of the town. You see the pair of clickers twitch moving amongst each other and your finger hovers over the trigger waiting for the moment. One of them moves to walk in front of the other and you pull the trigger. The bullet rips through both clicker’s skulls as they drop dead and you lower your rifle. You look over at both Tommy and Ellie’s shocked expressions.

“Holy shit that was amazing!” Ellie cheers, shaking your shoulder and you cringe in embarrassment. Looking over at Tommy he gives a nod of approval.

“Nice work kid,” He says, and your skin flushes at the compliment, “Looks like a few runners heard. Think you can take care of them?” He asks and you nod, lifting the rifle, racking the bolt back ejecting the empty casing, and racking the next round. You see through your sights four runners burst through the doors of a store stumbling through the street. Your gaze and rifle quickly follow after the one who tries darting away gets a quick bullet in its head quickly racking back the cling of the casing flying out of the chamber. Tracing your sights to the next furthest-away runner and firing the bullet rips through its next, decapitating the head from its body as it falls like a dead weight. Another bullet out of the chamber and without hesitation fires at a runner right through the head. Racking the chamber for a final time following after the last runner who looks to have a limp to their leg. Firing but at the last minute it jerks and the bullet hits its shoulder, not the head. Quickly emptying the chamber and firing again the bullet chases the infected and it hits the doorway of a diner that it enters.

“Shit!” You curse lowering the rifle in frustration. Tommy’s hand rests on your shoulder to ease your tension.

“Hey don’t get too hung up over it,” Tommy says as you keep your gaze stuck on the small town to see if maybe it comes back out when you spot something completely different. You see a scruffy little girl wandering through the streets in practically rags, ice fills your veins as you see them wander into the diner. Swinging your rifle over your shoulder almost hitting Tommy in the face as you rush to Red saddling her quickly.

“Hyah Red!” With a snap of your reins, Red takes off kicking up some snow shocking Tommy and Ellie who quickly mount their horses chasing after you.

“Y/n Stop!” Tommy yells and Ellie yells some pleads for you to stop but you ignore them urging Red to go fast as she races down the ridge to the town leaving them in the dust. Reaching the town, you almost fall off the Red with how fast you try dismounting pulling your revolver out of your holster entering the dinner. Clicking on your flashlight the dinner is silent and quickly abandoned by the outbreak and in the time following afterward. Keeping a firm grip on your gun walking down the path of booths on either side of you checking each one for any sign of life. Turning to the last booth that leads to doorways to the kitchen you see a flash of metal jumping back as you point your gun and the light shines down on the same little girl from before. She is young way too young to be out here alone as she clutches a hunting knife between her tiny hands. Lowering your gun and she gives you a quizzical look.

“I’m not gonna hurt you, kid,” You whisper aware of the possible infected in the building but not in the main dining area. The child shakes her head shrinking further under the table and you reach your hand out pleading to her. “We really need to go ther—”

The screech of infected fills the dinner as the doors beside you burst open comes a runner that tackles you to the groan, your flashlight, and gun clattering to the ground of your grasp. The girl screams as you struggle against the male runner as it snarls and gnashes at you trying to rip your throat out. Your hands dig into his shoulders using all your strength to fight it off you as it thrashes above you not able to grab your gun or the knife at your hip. The runner screeches as you see a flash of metal as the knife embeds into his shoulder seeing the little girl trying to help aid.

“Y/n!” The shout of Ellie and she comes in like a hurricane tackling the infected as your arms snatch the girl holding it away from the sight of Ellie stabbing the runner multiple times in the neck and head until it twitches and stops moving. Ellie pulls off the creature falling back on her ass and leaning against the booth catching her breath as you do the same the little girl shaking in your arms. The rushing footsteps and Tommy bursting in the dinner rifle is raised but quickly lowers it seeing the infected dead and both girls okay though taken out by the encounter.

“Are you okay?” Ellie asks and you nod looking over your hands and arms that were near the infected snapping mouth sighing not seeing any bites.

“I’m clean,” You say in relief before looking down at the girl passed out in your arms, but she looked clean with no bites. You assumed it was exhaustion or the shock that caused her to collapse. “She looks good as well. Thanks for coming in when you did I would have been fucked.” You say as Ellie stands to her feet coming over and offering her hand and you freeze seeing the injury on her hand.

“Ellie…” Your voice is filled with fear as your gaze is locked onto her hand as you scooch away from her and she follows your gaze and on her hand is a bite mark.

“Shit!” Her eyes flash to Tommy but then to you who is slowly reaching for your gun and Tommy realizes it as well. “Wait stop!” Quickly you rise to your feet gun in your free hand still clutching the little girl to your chest.

“You’re infected!” You hiss aiming right at Ellie. Your chest ached with pain you didn’t want it to be her she was so young but she was one of them now.

“No, it’s fine! I swear Y/n put the gun down,” Ellie pleads holding her hands up but you don’t dare to budge.

“Y/n put the gun down,” Tommy orders and your gaze whips over to the older man.

“Tommy she’s fucking bit! There’s nothing we can do about it.” You whisper-yell. You see both Tommy and Ellie give each other looks having a silent conversation. Ellie pulls up her sleeve revealing the chemical burn on her inner forearm and the lineart of the tattoo covering it.

“Y/n this isn’t an accidental burn, I burned myself because I was bitten two years ago but never turned…I’m immune.” She says and you look at the burn and the fresh bite mark on her hand.

“You’re lying. I’ve never met someone immune,” You say before looking at Tommy who doesn't say anything and his face doesn’t show he’s lying or being deceitful. Your face changes from fear and anger to shock as your hold on your gun falters, “You’re…but how?”

“I don’t know…” Ellie says with a shake of her head and a conflicted look, “That’s how I met Joel I was supposed to be brought to the Fireflies. They had plans to make some sort of cure but it didn’t work out. You know what the fireflies were working on but I swear I’m immune, Joel knows, and Tommy and Maria do too.” Her whole explanation is insane and you can’t believe it. Ellie was immune…and that opens a whole other door. Was she and Joel at the hospital when it got attacked all those years ago? Who attacked them? Could she get others infected? Why didn’t making a cure work?

“I know this is a lot to dump on your kid, but here isn’t a good place to talk this out,” Tommy says, his gaze whipping from both the pair of you and the still-open doors of the diner. You all head out trying to find a location to recuperate before returning to Jackson. You ended up finding a car shop that Tommy had gone through to clear out and once deemed safe you all brought the horses into the large garage before entering the store portion and settling in for a bit. About an hour passed, and you and Ellie sat at a table peeling back the bandage seeing there was nothing wrong with it, no veins of infections just looks like a regular bite mark.

“Holy shit…” You mumble looking at the injury, your hand lightly tracing around the clean bite mark and looking at the chemical burns and tattoo both items that cover the true nature of the injury, “So nothing can happen to you, no bites or spores affect you?” You ask and Ellie shakes her head.

“No obviously infected can still kill me by mauling me to death,” She jokes and you smirk slightly, “But I can breathe in spores without any problem though Joel still makes me wear a mask for appearances.” You lean back in your chair, a look of shock still on your face trying to wrap your mind around it.

“Did you see other immune people with the Fireflies? I knew there was word of finding some cure. I didn't know they actually found an immune person. I thought it was just hope and speculation.” You say and see a shift in Ellie’s demeanor from your question.

“Uh it’s a long story but I was asleep the entire time so I didn’t get to talk to other people until I got pulled out of the hospital.” She seems highly uncomfortable with the topic and you let it go. Tommy stands by the doorway his gaze outside the barred windows for any signs of infected or people. A shuffling comes from the small lounge couch that the little girl rests on as she slowly wakes up. You see the stiffening in her body not recognizing her location until her darting eyes land on you.

“Hey…you’re okay kid, we’re not gonna hurt you.” You say and she rises to sit up clutching the hem of the ratty sweater that was probably not keeping her warm, her pants all ripped and patched together and her shoes very broken in. “What’s your name?” You ask and she looks between you, Ellie who gives a friendly smile, and Tommy who looks over the whole situation.

She hesitates for a second before speaking, “Lila,” She whispers and you nod before pointing at yourself,

“I’m Y/n, and this is Ellie and Tommy,” You say while pointing at both of them and she nods slowly understanding. Reaching into your pack you see her tense up. “It’s okay…I just wanted to see if you were hungry while I cleaned you up.” You say pulling out the sandwich that was meant to be yours but it was going to be in better hands and you’ve gone with skipping a meal. Her eyes light up seeing the sandwich before you as you hold it out and she instantly snatches out and starts devouring it. With her fueling up you pull out your canteen and find a dusty rag in one of the cabinets wetting it and start wiping away the dirt and blood from her face. She flinches slightly from the cold but allows you to continue.

“We should head out soon, it’s getting close to sunset and we still have an hour’s ride back to Jackson,” Tommy says as you clean up Lila.

“Lila, did you come here alone or with people?” You ask as Lila wipes the crumbs of the sandwich from her face also having accepted pieces of chocolate that Ellie provided.

“My momma sent me out to find…the stuff to help ouchies,” She says and you see the look Tommy gets hearing this even you were surprised but it was extremely close to home. You remember your mother sending you out with ration cards or errands in the QZ as soon as you were able to walk and talk. “Are you going to take me back to my momma?” Lila asks and you pause in your cleaning. You give Tommy a look unsure what to say.

“Listen, kid, if we run into them then yes. But if not we do have to return home and we’ll try to see after some rest and food in all of us we can find your family.” Tommy says as gently as possible hoping not to set off the kid but she just nods understanding and continues munching on her chocolate.

“Okay!” You finish cleaning her off and freeze when you take in her features that now aren’t covered in blood or dirt, both Ellie and Tommy also notice what you see. Lila looked oddly familiar as both Ellie and Tommy’s gazes dart from you and Lila seeing the similar features though slightly different. Your noses were different, but your hair texture was the same but different hair colors, you had different eye shapes but your eye color was identical. You were silent looking at Lila she looked like a mini you but some things were off or tweaked. It’s as if your mother had another you. She looks at you and tilts her head slightly.

“What’s wrong?” She asks and you quickly stand putting the stuff away in your pack grabbing your rifle that leaned on the table and slinging it over your shoulder.

“We should head back.” You say and just like that Ellie and Tommy can sense the tension coming off you. You all quickly pack up dressing Lila in your coat to give her some extra warmth during the ride home. Entering the garage you climb onto Red and Tommy lifts Lila for you to hold who rests in front of you.

“Horsie!” She claps her hands and you stroke her hair with a soft smile before tightening your grip on the reins. Tommy lifts the garage door open before mounting his horse and the four of you leave the car shop and the leaving the town. The sun begins its descent as you make your trek back to Jackson. It’s about thirty minutes into your trip that you can’t help but feel like you’re being watched as you travel through the forest. Immediately you are surrounded by four other horses with people on them but they don’t look great for wear even the horses look exhausted. Your hand rests on your revolver, while Tommy and Ellie hold their rifles pointed at them as the others have their weapons pointed at them.

“What business you got here?” A man with a cap and bandana around his mouth gruffs, his shotgun pointed at Tommy who keeps a steady hold on his rifle.

“Just passing through, we mean no harm. They’re just children and myself no one else.” Tommy explains trying to ease the high tension. Anything could happen. One wrong move can turn this into a bloodbath. You can see each individual, pausing at a woman who wears a balaclava covering the lower half of her face but you recognize those eyes. Lila squirms seemingly recognizing the group as the woman lowers her mask, both you and Lila saying the same thing.

“Mom..?” “Momma!”

Where the Wild Things Are Tags

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[howtofightwrite]

Was reading through your torture tag and noticed a lot of stuff that was being said seemed to contradict things that were said on the scripttorture blog... do you have any suggestions on how to clear things up? Im not sure which things to trust

And you're asking us, because they've posted once in the last two years?

I'll admit, I have a fairly low opinion of them, and that's not directly their fault. For years, one of their fans, would regularly send some pretty incendiary asks our way. In fact, some of the less hostile ones were answered, and may be the posts you were looking at. Understandably, the ones simply accusing us of being torture apologists, demanding we redirect all our asks to their blog, or insisted that we should sit down and shut up, did not make the cut. With that in mind, please understand, I'm not going to go digging through their blog to refresh my memory, so some of this might be slightly skewed by the aforementioned deranged fan.

Look for the blog that does not constantly contradict or misrepresent their authoritative sources. Which is to say, if you actually pay attention to Shane O'Mara's work, it's basically what we've been saying all along.

If you're unfamiliar, O'Mara is a Neurologist who was (last I time I checked) working at Trinity College Dublin. He published a, frankly fascinating piece, called, Why Torture Doesn't Work, in which, he set about trying to answer why torture is an ineffective tool for intelligence gathering. O'Mara also had the misfortune of being the only expert who said anything close to the perspective Scripttorture wanted on torture.

An open secret about torture is that it is completely worthless for getting accurate information. This has been widely understood for centuries, if not millennia. O'Mara's question was, “why?”

It turns out, that the neurochemical trauma associated with torture, seriously interferes with your ability to accurately access information. For example: If you're being tortured, you can't tell your torturer where you planted the ticking bomb, because your brain literally can't access those memories.

Torture is evil. Yeah. No shit.

And, this is where ScriptTorture stops. “Torture is bad,” and Jack Bauer is an incredibly unrealistic fantasy, end of story.

Except, this is not the end of this.

Now, generally speaking, I don't blame anyone who wants to get off the ride here. Torture is an unpleasant subject, and wanting to stop at, “oh, it's evil,” is entirely reasonable... unless you want to write on the subject, or if you do political analysis and need to understand why people break out the torture implements.

More than that, this is where my academic background in political science actually comes into play. I'm not saying this as an Eagle Scout who had a couple overly enthusiastic hand to hand instructors when I was a kid. This is (part of) what I studied in college, and I have kept an eye on it since then.

If torture didn't work, you wouldn't see state-sponsored torture pop up repeatedly throughout history. It would not be one of the favorite tools of dictators and despots. However, because it does, and it is, simply saying, “it doesn't work,” isn't instructive or meaningful because it's clearly untrue. Someone is finding value in this, so it becomes important to understand what they are doing, and why they are doing it.

When you torture someone, the information they provide is basically madlibs of whatever leaked through their brain. They want the pain and stress to stop, and they'll say anything they can to make that happen. That often takes the form of what they think their torturer wants to hear. O'Mara's research does explain why they don't simply cough up the truth.

So, why do it?

Torture is a very labor intensive process. You (as an individual) can't, realistically, torture multiple victims at a time, and it is a very drawn out process. Some elements can be automated, your torturer doesn't need to be present at every moment, but they're going to spend hours, if not days, working on one victim. Worse, this is actually a technical profession. It's not like you can just pull in anyone off the street and get the results you want. (Though, technically, this doesn't seem to be as true, however, amateurs do have a shocking capacity to screw up torture. So, the point remains valid.)

The value of torture has almost nothing to do with the victim. It's about the message it sends to everyone else.

Torture is about mass coercion of the population. When you are the state (meaning, the government), and you torture someone, you are telling your citizens that you are willing to do the same to them, if they oppose you.

State-sponsored torture is specifically a tool to suppress political engagement. It is, quite literally, state-sponsored, domestic terrorism.

This even holds true in cases where the state employs torture to extract confessions from criminal suspects. The message sent into the general population is that dissent of any kind will not be tolerated, and that the state has the willingness and power to turn these tools on you if you draw their ire.

I get that this is outside of ScriptTorture's area of expertise, and in fairness, I probably would not have studied this with any intensity, if I hadn't taken multiple classes on revolutionary theory.

Torture from private organizations (which is to say, organized crime, and religious institutions, though cults and some other groups might fit this description as well), follows roughly similar patterns. These tend to do the same things, discouraging dissent, and establishing the organization as having power over the population (or community.) (The technical term would be to “establish capacity.” Which is to say, the organization's capacity to enforce its will. The same term applies to states, though in those cases, the state's capacity is often overestimated by its population. It's only when it starts to falter, for example through military defeats or serious civil unrest, that they really need the capacity boosting part of this equation.)

Zealotry or stupidity can create situations where you have a torturer (or, more likely, someone in a position of power ordering the torture) who believes that it is effectively compelling the truth from the victim. This (or amateurs) can easily lead into a distinct problem, which is that all of this has diminishing returns. Torture one person, and you send a loud, clear message. Torture ten, and all you've added to it is that you're willing to keep going. However, as you start stacking up the victims, you do start sending a new message to your enemies, that being, you're going to get to them sooner or later so it's in their best interest to respond now, mobilize and retaliate proactively, before you get to them. This means that a state which leans heavily on torture can easily instigate the civil unrest that exposes their limited capacity leading to a political death spiral. Alternately, if the state does have the capacity to put down the resulting unrest, it further reinforces their position (which does happen with depressing frequency in the real world.)

You're also going to create new enemies in the friends, family, and loved ones, of the people you tortured. This means that any organization that relies on extensive use of torture will, eventually, start tying a noose around its own neck. (Granted, there are a lot of social dynamics that I'm skimming over here, so it's not exactly as simple as “if the state tortures lots of people, it will result in increasing unrest.”)

If you want a partial citation for the above, you can (ironically) find it in a podcast interview with Shane O'Mara, when he explained why torture has been employed repeatedly through history. (Specifically I think it was episode 15 of Your Welcome, by Michael Malice. Though, I'm not 100% sure off hand.) Though that doesn't cover some of the more in depth elements I just discussed. Some of this is coming from a textbook on revolutionary theory I can't locate (it disappeared in a move a few years back.) Though that was more interested in the general structure of a state destabilizing into internecine conflict. Ironically, my preferred citation on torture, Fear up Harsh by Tony Lagouranis is mostly uninformative in this case, because his experiences were on the ground, rather than from a structural understanding of what his job was really doing. However, he does illustrate my comment about amateurs making even more of a mess, both through personal experiences with a few, and also through the eventual trajectory of the invasion and occupation of Iraq.

But of course, torture is evil... again, no shit. Was that really a question? And, I'm apparently a torture apologist for having a structural understanding of why evil people do evil things. Cool. Evil people don't do evil things because they're evil, they do them because they gain some tangible benefit from those acts, and they do not care about the consequences to anyone else. If you ask someone, “why do people do this?” and their answer is, “it's simple; they're evil,” that person is lying. They may be lying to themselves, but they are lying to you.

Why do people use torture? It's a lot more complicated, and unpleasant, than you'd expect at a simple overview.

-Starke

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[thenewgirl76]

I'll Make You Believe

While the whole "asking a ghost how they died is the worst taboo ever, so don't do it or you'll be in a world of hurt" headcanon is always fun to implement to either create temporary conflict or simply move the story along, I think it'd work just as well on both ends if it was only a minor offense.

Like if you were to ask a once living ecto being how they died the most negative response you'd get would either be some variation of "None of your business puny mortal" or an explanation using the most vividly graphic, stomach turning details as an act of petty revenge as well as insurance you never ask again.

So what could possibly be a way more serious, far more dangerous no-no when it comes to ghosts instead? Well, how about stating ghosts don't exist/there's no such things as ghosts? The reason why being you're invalidating the trauma they've experienced in their last moments.

Makes no difference whether you were aware of this or not. If they find out or worse, it's said to their face? You better hope they'll settle for beating you black-and-blue. Because the alternative is becoming a ghost yourself by the time they're done with you.

Now in dpxyj fics when Danny interacts with Wally and the whole "ghost are/aren't real" argument between them comes into play it's usually depicted as a trivial disagreement. But what if you were to make it more angsty by inserting this take on lack of ghostly etiquette?

Let's say after getting to know his teammates better Danny starts talking about his origins (in vague detail) and exploits, only to eventually be interrupted by Kid Flash declaring that he can't possibly be a ghost as they don't exist. And Robin, Aqualad, Miss Martian, and Superboy all become quite alarmed watching Danny go from easygoing to looking ready to beat Kid Flash to a pulp, as he's now fighting back his ghostly nature. To avoid giving in to the urge he abruptly leaves with a dismissive attitude, much to KF's confusion.

From there it spirals. KF, not realizing he's poking a hornets nest continuing to voice his skepticism whenever the opportunity comes up and each time Danny barely manages to keep it together. Until one day Danny in an explosive rage snatches up KF and in a tone colder than ice tells him he knows what he is, what he went through to reach that state, and that he has no need to justify any of it to him.

Then he leaves once more before he really loses it. Before going after him Miss Martian informs KF of how Danny opened his mind to her and that for his sake she hopes he never shares those memories of what he went through with him. Feeling bad now, KF tries to apologize once Danny returns. Which results in failure again and again since Danny keeps giving him the cold shoulder.

After having yet another apology disregarded KF, in mounting frustration blurts out that he wishes he understood what has Danny so convinced he's a ghost, unaware a certain wish twisting genie he was warned about had been invisibly lurking in the vicinity the instant Danny was elsewhere. Along with the rest of the regulars, as soon as KF's denials had spread to the Ghost Zone Desiree was on the warpath, intent on showing just how real ghosts truly were. By sheer spite and determination she beat everyone else to him, just in time to hear him say the forbidden word, presenting her with the perfect means of retribution.

With a "So you have wished it so shall it be" KF is magically transported to an underwater submarine, occupied by Black Manta. Unable to run as freely without potentially damaging the sub and causing it to flood, the fight upon his unexpected arrival is drawn out to the point KF starts to feel his hyper metabolism weakening him. It's when he's close to dying of starvation that one of the more incompetent goons sends him crashing into the stash of ectoplasm Manta had smuggled with the intent of using it to pollute the waters of Aquaman's Kingdom. The last thing KF sees before blacking out is Desiree looming over him with a smirk of satisfaction.

[porcelainseashore]

Ghosts from the Past (5)

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Agent! Leon Kennedy x Dancer! Informant! Fem! Reader

Summary: 7 years after leaving behind everything you’ve known, you’re suddenly thrust into facing a ghost from your past, Leon. Navigating where you stand with him brings up old memories, painful truths and countless questions. At the same time, you have to deal with a bunch of strange occurrences at your dance company. Set after Resident Evil 4 Remake.

Warnings: 18+ Swearing, Recreational Drug Use, Alcohol, Eventual Smut, No (Y/N), Canon-Typical Horror and Violence, Blood, Injury, Torture, Infection, Medical Experiments, Psychological Trauma, Nightmares

Content: Post-Resident Evil 4, Exes to Lovers, Partners to Lovers, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Lack of Communication, Romance, Fluff

Author's Note: Smut content warning applies in this chapter. Leon and Reader have been dancing around each other long enough!

AO3 Link

Chapter 5: Unravel

You led Ada through the back entrance, where the staff and stage crew usually entered. It was locked as there was no performance today, but she had acquired the key, thanks to you. The door creaked open as you shuffled inside, welcomed only by the stagnant air and the warm rays of early afternoon light pouring into the musty rooms.

It was so quiet that you could hear a pin drop. Weird. Even though it was an unofficial rest day, there would usually be a cleaner roaming the hallways or a dancer rehearsing in the studio.

As you followed the route you had memorized by heart, you noticed that Ada also seemed to know her way around the place. You felt her steps matching yours, anticipating right and left turns before they happened. At the first false wall, she surprised you by pulling on the lever hidden behind an ornamental vase.

“If you already know where to go, why am I even here?” You questioned suspiciously, as you continued down the secret passageway.

“Let’s say I like to cover all bases.” She gave you a cryptic smile. “To get what I really want.”

“Great,” you grumbled. “Another evasive one.”

She huffed, finding humor in your complaint. “Pity Silje doesn't know her favorite protégé is working against her.”

Was that a veiled threat? You swallowed hard as guilt seeped into your chest. This wasn’t how it was meant to be. You weren’t supposed to face Silje like this; you wouldn’t know how to look her in the eye after what you had done.

Ada noticed your hesitance. “Or are you having second thoughts?”

Your simmering anger had become palpable, but you held your tongue and looked away. She was just trying to get you to crack, you inwardly rationalized.

As you went from room to room, the labyrinthine pathways blended seamlessly into one another, as if you were going through the same sections again and again in circles. The only change was that the time it took to pass through the distance between them seemed to increase each round. It was like the space was growing from within, even though it was physically impossible. You assumed it was an illusory effect. Whichever architect who had designed this was a genius.

It was at this point where you witnessed a subtle change in Ada’s behavior. Her eyes darted around more frequently than usual, and every now and then, her lips pursed lightly, as if she were becoming agitated by the maze, and this wasn't what she had expected. Despite her poker face, perhaps she didn’t know her way around entirely after all.

When she paused to examine some markings on a wall, you seized the opportunity presented by her distraction to jam your hands into your back pocket. The zip ties cut into your wrists, but you finally managed to reach for the Swiss Army knife, flicking it open. 

However, nothing could escape her watch, not to mention her lightning reflexes. Just as you were about to use it to break free, she knocked the knife out of your hands with ease. It clattered onto the ground, as you looked on defeatedly. You braced yourself for some sort of punishment to be dished out, but it never came.

“Bold,” she smirked. “Quite the rebel, aren’t you?”

It almost came across like she was impressed. Or was she mocking your feeble attempt at escaping?

“You know, we are more alike than you think,” she suggested. “Maybe that’s why he saw something in you.”

You glared at her in repugnance. There was no way in hell the two of you were even remotely similar, and that was not why Leon had loved you in the first place. At least that’s what you told yourself. 

“I would never be like you,” you seethed.

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” she responded nonchalantly. “Especially when given the right motivations.”

Your exchange was cut short, however, when from a distance, you heard hurried footsteps and heavy breathing. Ada quickly yanked you aside to hide behind a wall, covering your mouth with her gloved hand. As the footsteps drew closer, they slowed down. From the sound of delicate metal scraping against the floor, it seemed someone had discovered the knife you had left there. Shit, would you be caught now?

A split second later, you heard your name being called. Leon! He had come for you like he had said. Your cries in response were muffled by Ada’s grip tightening around your mouth, as she pulled you further away into the labyrinth, but her movements were slowed by your resistance. It was only a matter of time until Leon caught up.

“Give it up, Ada.”

He had his handgun aimed at her as she whipped around to face him. Although she no longer tried to dampen your voice, she still kept you in an ironclad hold, with no intention of letting go any time soon. Her words were coated with frustration. “You just don’t know when to quit, do you?”

“That’s not exactly in my dictionary.” He leaned in, focusing his laser sight to improve accuracy.

“You wouldn’t shoot me,” she asserted unwaveringly.

His expression faltered briefly, as if he were experiencing a strong case of déja vù, but he steeled himself again. “Test my patience and I just might.”

You felt Ada’s grasp on you shift. Oh, she was getting unnerved alright, and it felt like you had just entered unwittingly into an ex-lovers’ spat. 

As you took in the sight of the room you were in, that’s when you recognized something from your memory: a trapdoor. You were coincidentally standing right above it on the carpeted floor, though you weren’t sure where it led to. In your quick assessment, it was a choice between this never-ending standoff and taking a chance by using the trapdoor as a distraction. You knew where the switch was. You just had to time it correctly.

During a pause in their heated discussion, you established eye contact with Leon. Synchronously, you inched your foot out, pressing it against the camouflaged wooden piece lying at the side, while yelling at him to take notice. In that instant, you and Ada whooshed through the opened door, tumbling into an obsidian pit, past a bunch of rocks with a faint, iridescent glow. You heard Ada’s gasp as she fiddled with her grapple gun, but the surfaces were too slippery to hook onto. It was a miracle that you managed to catch her by surprise.

You couldn’t tell how far down you were going. However, your fall soon ended with a thud on what resembled soft, black mud. Your body felt bruised and battered, but at least nothing was broken. From a shrill shriek that was emitted, you realized Ada hadn’t fared so well.

As your eyes adjusted to the dimness of your surroundings, you saw her lying on the ground, clutching at a sharp rock that had embedded itself within her leg. A loud yelp ripped through the air, as she pried out the object, causing streams of blood to ooze down the open gash. At that moment, another figure landed in, grunting as he broke his fall with cat-like grace.

A bright beam from his flashlight illuminated the area as Leon got up, dusting himself off. The key card, having come loose from Ada’s possession in the fall, lay between the two of you. Without a second thought, he nabbed it, barely casting a quick glance over his shoulder at her before heading towards you.

“You ok?” He asked, his voice laced with worry, as he cut off the zip tie. Wrapping an arm under your shoulders and around your waist, he lifted you to your feet.

“Yeah, just dazed,” you coughed out, rubbing the sore abrasions on your wrists while looking around. 

“What about-” You stopped yourself as you observed the empty space behind him, where Ada had been just a minute ago. “She’s gone.”

He spun around in the direction you were staring at. “It’s what she does, I guess.” He shrugged, as if the same scene had repeated itself one too many times before.

However, his tone changed when he turned back to you, grabbing the lapel of your coat with a severe look in his eyes. “Don’t ever do that again!”

“What, you had a better idea than squabbling with your ex?” Your defensiveness kicked in at his scolding, and you pushed him off roughly.

“She’s not my- ugh!” He groaned, smacking his palm against his forehead. “Let’s just get out of here. I need to keep you safe.”

You bowed your head in agreement, deciding it was best not to go any further down the rabbit hole. Walking along beside him, both of you searched for a way to escape this uncanny underground place. The walls were covered in jagged rocks caked in a dark, greasy substance that glistened in the light, and the air was damp, causing drops of moisture to drip down from above. Occasionally, you heard small creatures scurrying around, but otherwise, everything else was as still as a dormouse.

“Do you think they’re growing something here?” You pointed at the wet matter leaking from the surfaces.

“I hope not,” Leon sighed. “Because this would be a lot more than we bargained for.”

He scraped a sample of it into a compact container, which came with a mini spatula similar to those found in laboratories, before placing it back into a pocket of his tactical pants.

Then, you heard a series of clunks coming from the corner, causing you to jump in fright. “What was that?” 

He shone his flashlight towards the source and you saw a lone rope ladder swaying in the darkness. Its wooden cross beams were hitting the side of the wall, but there was no one on it.

“Hm.” He cracked a weak smile, shaking his head, like someone had eluded him in a game of hide-and-seek. “Our way out.”

Just as you neared the ladder, you felt a dull, throbbing ache spread throughout your head, causing you to come to a halt and clasp the wall to steady yourself. A child’s voice called your name from a distance, reverberating within your skull. As it faded away, you found Leon holding you with a distressed look on his face. “What’s going on? Are you ok?”

“I’m fine…” You shuddered, trying to get rid of that bizarre sensation you had felt earlier. “This place just gives me the creeps,” you reasoned.

Breathing a sigh of relief, he gave you another once-over before continuing. He helped you onto the ladder first, so that he could support you from behind in case anything happened. You began your ascent and noticed that the air became drier the higher you climbed. 

Shortly after, you pulled yourself up into a dead-end tunnel with a hatch on its low ceiling. Leon lifted it open, looking around before giving you the all-clear. You were now in an unassuming storage room in the upper levels of the labyrinth. Just beyond that was the theater space.

“Huh. Guess this needs to be added to the blueprint,” you muttered.

There was some commotion going on outside of the room you were in. Looks like the people were back. Leon brought a finger to his lips to hush you, as he crouched and withdrew his gun from his holster. Opening the door quietly, he peeked through the narrow slit and waited until the noise subsided, before beckoning you to follow him. You assumed a similar stealthy position and sneaked out of the building.

When you were finally back out on the streets, the evening sky and crisp, wintry air greeted you. He led you to a stylish black motorcycle parked a few blocks away. Since when had he learnt how to ride one of these things?

“Courtesy of Hunnigan,” he explained, when he spotted your raised eyebrow. “Took a while. Red tape and all that.” 

Bergmann, of course.

“Here’s the plan,” he began. “We’ll grab your stuff and then head to my place. I’ll watch over you until we can get you back to HQ tomorrow.”

“HQ?” You asked out of confusion.

“DC.”

“I know… but why?”

You weren’t told about any of this in advance and once again, you had more questions than answers. 

“Trust me, it’ll be safer there while I finish this. I don’t want things to blow up, but you never know,” he clarified.

“Did Bergmann greenlight this?”

“No, we did.”

How did he manage to bypass your handler’s authority? You imagined her hitting the roof when she found out.

“And after what we saw down there, we need to get you screened. It’s part of the protocol,” he continued, before adding softly, “I’ll make sure they treat you well.”

“I-” You paused, trying to formulate an appropriate response to the information you had just been overloaded with. “You’re expecting me to leave everything behind?”

“Just temporarily, until the dust settles,” he reassured you. “Unless…” He trailed off, interrupting himself before he could complete the sentence.

“Unless?” You questioned.

“Never mind.” He handed you a spare helmet, gesturing for you to take the back seat. “Let’s go.”

As the engine revved to life, he turned to face you, and you swore you could make out his shit-eating grin behind the tinted visor of his helmet. “Hang on tight.”

Gingerly, you wrapped your arms around his waist, as he drove off into the night.

━━━━━━━━━━━

It didn't take long for you to pack your belongings, or rather, the bare essentials. You had never really accumulated much over the years. Nevertheless, there was a strange, almost surreal feeling in bidding farewell to your apartment for an indefinite period of time.

Upon reaching his place, Leon conducted a perimeter check and adjusted the security settings before allowing you to settle in.

“What if Ada comes back for the card?” You asked in passing.

“Doubt it,” he stated rather matter-of-factly. “She’ll need time to lick her wounds.”

“Right.” 

After all the muck you had been dragged through, you decided to busy yourself by cleaning up in the bathroom. As you showered, it began to dawn on you that the grazes you had on your wrists from the zip tie was gone, and even though you were pretty certain that your ribs had been bruised from the fall, they were nowhere to be seen. Everything looked as immaculate as ever. Were you going crazy and imagining things? You chalked it up to the exceptional amount of stress you had been through in the last 24 hours.

Changing into your night slip, you made your way towards the living room while towel drying your hair. That’s when you caught sight of Leon holding the framed photo of the two of you during your college graduation, staring at it, seemingly oblivious that you were standing at the entrance in the hallway. He must have seen it when your backpack was left open while you were in the bathroom, but that didn’t give him the right to touch your stuff, especially when it started to stir up unwanted emotions within you.

“You still kept it, after all these years…”

Looks like he had been aware of your presence after all.

You didn’t respond, striding purposefully into the room, as you snatched the frame from him and chucked it back into your bag. “I should have just left it to rot,” you muttered out of spite.

“You don’t mean that.” Moving towards you, he curled his fingers under your chin, and tilted it to face him. “Here, you dropped something.” He took the Swiss Army knife out from his pocket and offered it to you.

But you remained motionless. “Keep it,” your voice quivered. 

It’s just better this way. His remark from the bar about a week ago resounded in your ears.

Upon your rejection, his visage crumbled and gradually, you witnessed his cool, confident facade peel away to reveal something broken underneath. He appeared extremely worn down, as though he had been through a war zone. Blood and grime stained his shirt, and a purplish bruise was blooming on the side of his cheek.

“I’m tired. Just so tired…” he admitted under his breath, placing the knife on the table beside him. “I can’t do this anymore.”

“Do what?” You wondered out loud.

“Push you away,” he whispered.

You didn’t know what to make of his response. It was an answer, yet not exactly one. And that was driving you insane. So, you argued back with the only piece of information you had, even though you knew it was a low blow. “Yeah, well, maybe you should’ve thought about that before you brought Ada into the picture.”

Furrowing his brows in agitation, he let out a heavy sigh and exclaimed, “It’s not about Ada! It’s about you!”

This was the first time you had seen him so riled up, but his rage was infectious, and you used the energy to fight fire with fire. “Fuck you, Leon! Stop bullshitting me!” You shouted back. “I’m sick of you hiding things!”

“Ok, fine. No more secrets,” he conceded, understanding that you weren’t going to let him off this time. Not unless he wanted to lose you again for real. With this in mind, he decided to tell you what you wanted to know, despite the pain it would cause you.

“Ada and I… it happened in Raccoon City.”

Raccoon City? A searing fury took hold over you, as you realized what that meant.

“You moved on to her the day you left,” you mouthed in disbelief. “And I was the idiot who waited and grieved for you.”

Pointing at him accusingly, you sneered, “The best part about it is you weren’t even dead! You just didn’t care!”

At this, he slammed his fist on the table, raising his voice over yours. “That’s a goddamn lie and you know that!”

His face was red with indignation as he insisted, “I care… I’ve always cared.”

You scoffed and turned away from him, your eyes burning and watery, even though deep down you knew he was telling the truth. “Then, explain it to me!”

He was shaking. You couldn’t tell if it was due to fear or anger. “After you and I broke up, I just wanted someone who would understand what I had been through.”

A lump formed in his throat as he continued. “She saved my life a couple of times. And we… uh, we kissed.”

He looked at you with regret, simultaneously attempting to gauge your reaction to what he had divulged. But you stonewalled him.

“Yeah, I liked her. And in a way, I still do care for her, I guess,” he confessed. “But she wasn’t the person I thought she was. I don’t think she’ll ever be that person.”

“You can’t get over her, can you?” You stated bitterly.

“Already have,” he declared. “For a while now.”

“I don’t know how to trust you.” You wanted to, so badly. But after the emotional rollercoaster he had put you through, you were at a loss.

His eyes filled up in despair. It was as if your words had winded him and stabbed him in the gut.

“What I said after the club… it was out of guilt, and I didn’t want to get too close.” He paused for a moment to recollect himself. “I just- I… needed to protect you.”

“From what?” You quizzed. Is that why he didn’t come back? 

He sucked in a deep breath, like what he was about to relay was something he would rather forget. “Raccoon City - it was hell.” He twisted his mouth in distaste. “Like Terragrigia… and the government covered it all up.”

You watched as his eyes glazed over, replaying the trauma he had suffered as if it were an old film loop. “Everyone died around me. I-I couldn’t do shit.” 

A cynical laugh escaped him. “Some fucking cop I was.”

You began to understand why he had been so quiet about his past. The torment he had been putting himself through, the survivor’s guilt, the ravaged city, and the injustice of it all haunted him incessantly.

Instinctively, you took a couple of steps towards him, wanting to close the distance somehow, even though you were afraid of getting burnt again.

His features softened as he saw you draw nearer, though it transformed into a frown when he relived through another set of memories. “They made me work for them, because I knew too much, and-”

He paused, biting his tongue in an effort to restrain his anger. “In exchange for the life of a little girl.”

But his temper soon flared up again. “Those bastards dangled her like a fucking carrot in front of my face! What was I supposed to do?”

You flinched at his outburst and he eyed you apologetically, dropping his head in shame. “I didn’t know who I could turn to. I-I’m sorry, I’m so sorry…”

“Leon…” You reached out, ghosting your fingers along the side of his arm.

He didn’t pull away this time, but he couldn’t bear to look at you, afraid of what you might think of him. “Not a day goes by where I don’t feel like it should’ve been me who died down there.”

“I thought about ending it,” he continued. “But you wanted me to remember I am a good person. That I would do the right thing. And I knew it was to keep going.”

You didn’t judge him. You accepted him as how he was, including all the pain and flaws. In front of you was the boy you had left behind 7 years ago - scared, helpless and alone. And so, you took the plunge, gathering him into your arms as you comforted him.

“Leon, it’s ok.” He leaned into your embrace like he had been starved of contact for a long time. “I’m here. You’re ok,” you reassured him.

“I didn’t want to drag you into this, but they got to you anyway,” he sighed into your hair, cradling your waist firmly against him, as though he was unwilling to let you go.

“Every night, I dream of you… dying,” he choked. “And I can’t- I… can’t save you.”

You should have seen this coming: him not wanting you to get involved, pushing you away, and his whole savior complex - just to protect you from the inevitable. As for Ada, you would never be able to change how he felt about her. Yet, in a way, you understood why he chose you in the end. And maybe, for now, that was enough.

“You don’t have to bear this burden on your own, you know,” you mentioned, caressing the back of his head tenderly.

“I’m a fucking mess, you deserve-”

God, he could be so stubborn sometimes. “Leon,” you interrupted. 

Cupping the sides of his face in your hands, you looked him straight in the eye. “I chose this life, ok? And I’m choosing right here, right now, that I want to be with you. To hell and back.”

His gaze widened as he took in what you said. “Like you promised.”

A wave of nostalgia washed over you, as a distant memory from your teenage years flooded your mind, transporting you back to the bleachers of your high school football field. Both of you had sat there together in the dead of winter, and you told him that you would be there for him. To hell and back.

You smiled wistfully. “Yeah, like I promised, dumbass.”

With that, he pressed his lips against yours fervently, devouring your mouth in a stream of torrid kisses, wet and sloppy, like he was trying to make up for lost time. Pushing you up against the nearest wall, he teased your lips with his tongue and you parted them, allowing him easy entrance as you let out a soft, heady moan. He deepened the kiss, swirling his tongue against yours fiercely, unable to get enough of you.

“Fuck, baby, I missed you,” he murmured breathlessly when he came up for air amid the waves of kisses. 

Baby. You shivered in pleasure, hearing his pet name for you for the first time after years of being apart. “I missed you too.”

“Please, let me take care of you,” he pleaded, securing a hand on your hip, as he slowly reached the other under your night slip, trailing it up your inner thigh, between your legs.

As you felt his fingertips brush against your clit through your underwear, you ground your hips forward subconsciously, desperate for his touch. Both of you were diving in headfirst even though things were still raw, but something about this felt right and you didn’t want to wait anymore. You claimed his lips again briefly, before encouraging him to go further.

Dragging his wet tongue along your neck and down across your body, he knelt in front of you, bunching up the hem of your slip and hooking his fingers into the side of your underwear to strip it off. You closed your eyes as you felt his hot breath against your pussy, gasping as he ran his tongue through your glistening folds, lapping and sucking it eagerly.

“Mm… I could never get tired of how you taste,” he groaned huskily, before tracing circles with his tongue on your clit.

You chewed on your bottom lip, a smile breaking out at his compliment, as you recalled how vocal he - and you - could be during sex. He spread your legs wider and hiked one of them over his shoulder for better access, dipping his tongue into your slit, as your juices and his saliva trickled down your thighs. Tangling your hands in his hair, you gave in to the tingling sensations that rippled through your body.

He continued thrusting his tongue into you relentlessly, while stroking your clit with his thumb. “Shit, oh god-” you whined, grasping frantically at the wall behind you. “That feels so good.”

Burying his face further into your mound, he tried to bring you closer to the edge, as you felt a familiar knot in your belly tightening with every lick, suck and kiss. You bucked your hips, riding his face feverishly as you chased after your orgasm. Soon, it came crashing down, and you arched your back off the wall, wailing in rapture, while your thighs clenched around his head. 

The high melded into a feeling of warm, viscous honey, as he caught you in an embrace when you slumped over, dizzy and panting.

“I got you, baby,” he cooed, rubbing your back soothingly, as he held you up. “That’s it.”

His pillowy lips, moist with your arousal, captured yours in a tender kiss. When he broke away, you nuzzled his neck gratefully, part of you still contemplating if this was real.

“I don’t want to let you go,” your voice came out muffled, as you burrowed yourself deeper into his neck, inhaling the scent of his cologne and sweat. Despite the blood and dirt, he smelled as you remembered him, of fresh citrus and musk, with a hint of cedar.

“You have me,” he promised, planting another delicate kiss on your cheek, soft like raindrops on a rose petal in the morning. “Always.”

You locked eyes with him, drowning in the pool of his blue irises, which were burning with desire for more. Scooping you up into his strong arms, he carried you out, past the hallway to the bedroom and placed you down on the mattress. He tugged off his clothes before helping you out of your slip, casually discarding it onto the floor.

His breath hitched as he admired the way you lay there, naked and wanting, completely vulnerable for him. Crawling on top of you, he bent down, leaving a string of open mouthed kisses from your neck to your breast. 

“So beautiful,” he hummed, flicking his tongue against your nipple, before taking it into his mouth and suckling it. Letting it go with a pop, he claimed, “You haven’t changed one bit.”

“Mm, neither have you.”

His huff turned into a low moan as you wrapped your fingers around his fully erect cock, the tip red with need and leaking of precum. You pumped its shaft languidly as he rutted into your fist, growing impatient to feel more of you.

“Fuck- I want to be inside of you,” he hissed through gritted teeth.

You nodded, grazing your fingers against his lips as he slipped them into his mouth, sucking on them hard. The next instant, he flipped you over, sitting on his knees behind you as he splayed your legs on either side of him, pulling your back flush against his chest. He held your hip in one hand while using his other to guide his cock towards your entrance. You whimpered as you sank down onto him, a raw burst of pleasure flooding your brain as he filled you up. Nestled in his lap, you fit him perfectly like a glove.

He gave you a moment to adjust to the intrusion before setting a slow, sensual pace, stretching you out deeply with each thrust. You rocked your hips back into him, like a bitch in heat, unable to control the lewd sounds that came from your throat.

Squeezing your breasts, he rose to his knees, lifting you up along with him, as he picked up the speed. He nipped at your neck, licking and sucking on it to mark you as his. You could already feel a red welt forming on its surface.

“You like that?” He asked.

“Ah- yes! Please, Leon,” you gasped, trembling as you moved in sync to his rhythm more vigorously.

He chuckled at your reaction, “Only I can make you feel this good, huh?”

“Yes,” you professed, surrendering yourself entirely. “Only you.”

Upon hearing your admission, he growled with lust and fucked up into you harder. “Look at you,” he whispered in your ear, turning you in the direction of the wardrobe mirror that faced the bed. “Taking me so well.”

Through half-lidded eyes, you saw yourself, almost unrecognizable, in the reflection. Your face was flushed, body slick with sweat, and your nipples were hard and swollen from his teasing. A rosy hue had spread across your ass from his thrusting. 

He was amping up the dirty talk. But it only served to turn you on even more. 

In the heat of the moment, you rasped, “Ruin me.” 

You felt his cock twitch inside of you as soon as you uttered it. Craning your neck to meet his gaze, you asserted, “Make me so no one else will ever want me.”

God, where was all that filth coming from? You even surprised yourself.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” he cursed loudly. His eyes reflected a voracious look of hunger that seemed to consume the very space between you. “You’re gonna make me cum like this, baby.”

He brought a hand up to your throat, straightening you out against him even further as he slammed his cock roughly into your pussy. Wet slaps filled the room, his balls hitting against your clit repeatedly, while you clung tightly to his grip. You tilted your head backwards, resting it against his shoulder as you cried, “Yes, yes, oh fuck- Leon!”

Suddenly, he pulled out of you and threw you onto your back, causing you to whine from the loss of contact. He hoisted your ankles over his shoulders, giving them a quick kiss before leaning his weight onto you and folding your knees to your chest.

You let out a strangled cry as he penetrated you from this new angle, stimulating the sensitive spot along the walls of your aching cunt. “God, you’re so fucking good for me,” he grunted through labored breaths, already feeling himself coming close.

“Don’t stop,” you begged, clawing at his wrists which caged you in beside your head.

He railed you mercilessly into the mattress, causing the headboard to bang against the bedroom wall with each sharp thrust. It felt as if he was releasing all his pent-up emotion and compensating for every moment he had spent without you in the past.

As you reached your climax, your walls tightened around his cock and your eyes rolled back, while you screamed his name in ecstasy. All you could see was a blinding white light, with every muscle in your body tensing and your toes curling in response, as he rode you through it.

The sight of you tipped him over the edge and his pace stuttered. His face twisted in pleasure as he called out your name over and over, spurting thick ropes of his hot seed into your cunt. He continued to roll his hips forward gently in waves, taking a while to come down from his high. 

Caressing your cheek affectionately, he placed a lingering kiss on your lips, before pulling out of you and dropping to your side. A mixture of both of your fluids stained his pelvis and your thighs as proof of what had transpired. It dripped onto the sheets like a bleeding sign.

As you listened to each other’s heartbeats and breathing in the calm silence, Leon took your hand in his, interlacing your fingers together.

“Stay with me,” he proposed again, wiping the slate clean of your rejection 7 years ago.

Propping yourself up on your elbows, you turned towards him, watching the steady rise and fall of his chest. It was at that moment you observed a distinct, indented scar adorning his left shoulder, serving as a ragged reminder of a past ordeal. You traced the outline of it with your fingers, while he held your hand close and kissed the white of your knuckles.

“I still love you,” he affirmed.

You knew that tonight wasn't the sole solution to all the problems you still had to work through together. But it was a start, and you were willing to give it another shot.

This time, it can be different. You covered his hands in yours, bringing them to your lips, as you spoke, “I’ll stay.”

[cosmic-ghost-hermit]

Hey everyone. I am back for a little bit to let yall know im working on making a divination discord server. I have some other things i need to set up before i open it up to the public but im very excited to see yall there! Remember to take what resonates and leave the rest behind but always be open to new experiences. 🩵

-ghost

PILE 1

Crystal: Amethyst

Astrology: ♈️♌️♐️♒️

Vibes: 💛📝🔑💰🚧🎷🏆⚜️🔆🍻🍯🧀🍋🌦️🌻🐝🐣🐱🤲🫨🥱🍰🎾🎗️🏵️🚜🏜️🎁☢️☣️⚠️🚸🔱

Hi there, pile one! So this one is pretty dang straight forward. I see you embracing motherhood. This could be literal motherhood and you could be participating in raising a child but I also see it could be a pet. It definitely looks like it is a little bit of a surprise to everyone involved. I do need to warn you. I can see someone who says they’re on your corner trying to sabotage the situation. It could be purposeful but it also could be accidental. They could just be scared of such a big commitment. Make sure you are equally spreading out the work and everyone is carrying some of the weight of this commitment. There will be chaos if things are not equally distributed. Have everyone research how to help and read up on important information so everyone is on the same page. A village is needed to raise a child but if the village isn’t in harmony. All must be in tandem when raising a little one. If someone isn’t following along with everyone else make sure you are strict about how things are meant to be done. Do not let your village stray from the path. Keep nasty people away from this baby.

PILE 2

Crystal: Black Tourmaline

Astrology: ♉️♏️♓️♊️

Vibes: 🏳️‍🌈🌺🌈🦄💐🥗🍭🛼🎡🚦🎉🎊❤️🧡💛💚💙💜🛍️🌄🏩🏕️🎭🍎🍊🍋🍏🫐🍆🍇🍡🍬

Hellooo, pile 2! Your new journey is a self help adventure. You have been gaslit a lot in your life and I see you learning how to use discernment and seeing right through people's lies and straight to the truth. Your presence is becoming a truth serum for all that surrounds you. Your way more powerful than others have coerced you into believing. You have been polishing your skills in private and now you get to shine like the diamond in the rough you are. This journey might not even be something you notice as it comes and goes. You have proved yourself enough already. Allow yourself to stop filling the cups of others and take time to fill your own. If you do not you will eventually dull that shine and become just like those who coerced you. You have the choice to choose a different fate than the one they chose.

PILE 3

Crystal: Rainbow Moonstone

Astrology: ♎️♊️♏️♉️

Vibes: 💜💖🏳️‍⚧️🎀🫐🔮❄️🍆💠🍧🌸🐬🌷🪻🩵☂️🐙👙🚺👛💎🫦🦋😈💦☯️🩻💞🧷

Hi, pile 3! Your new adventure is a gender expression journey. You will be exploring femininity to its core. Femininity might not be something you are very familiar with but you are learning about using your charm and charisma to get what you desire. You are realizing how much your appearance means to you and how to use it in manifestation. It might be kind of scary to you due to some kind of trauma. I see you could be trans-feminine but i also see you being a cis woman and just afraid of what might happen if you use your appearance like that. The patriarchy is definitely terrifying so I understand the apprehension. Use your appearance for justice. Use your feminine charm for your desires. Do not fear because you are protected by spirit. I see Gaia looking after you while you explore your Empress energy.

PILE 4

Crystal: Flower Agate

Astrology: ♋️♓️♑️♒️

Vibes: 🖤❤️💯🕹️🎸♟️🎳🍉🎮🎹🍒🍓🔌🍎🚬🔥🪨👹🔪🥵🥊🛞🕷️🕸️🐞🦊👠♦️🧣🕶️💋💄♣️

Heyooo, pile 4! Oh my goodness this is exciting. Your new adventure is steeped in love. Romantic, platonic and familial love surround your lonely heart. You were a very lonely kid but now love is filling your life. Suitors are at every turn and you get to hand pick who gets to love you. Make sure you are using good discernment when choosing. Look into the future at what heart longs for and aim for it using that criteria. Your values should align with those you love and they should respect you. Don’t go for those who don't make you feel sparks. Don’t bet on boring or mean people because you deserve to be adored.

PILE 5

Crystal: Dragons Blood Jasper

Astrology: ♏️♍️♋️♌️

Vibes: 🖤🩵❤️🤍✒️⚗️📌🎹🎼💎🧲🎲🎱🧊🍷🫖🦨❄️🔥☁️🐧🦋🎒👟🕶️🪢🥼🫀🥶♠️

Pile 5, welcome to your reading. You are opening doors that you can not close. You are beginning a spiritual journey. It also looks like you are nearing the end of another journey. This journey is meant to take a lot of self reflection. You must stare into your shadow until you love it as much as you love your light. You must look at the part of you that disgust you with love and acceptance. Which believe me I am aware that is much easier said than done but you are ready! You can do this! Seek out a spiritual teacher or a therapist to show you the ropes of shadow work. Facing this alone is scary and it is much easier when you have someone to help guide you through the dark. The universe loves you and wants you to love you as much as it does.