#i get being fixated on something but to this extent? i dont go around telling people how to draw Trevor fucking pokemon

[zip-toonz]

Sorry this is still pissing me off. Tagging my oc as a "redesign" when its not a redesign gives the people the wrong idea. Oz is not a redesign of aftonsparv nor is he a redesign of Ross. I said on the post that it was an oc that was inspired by those plushies. I like aliens and wanted to make an alien oc for a series I like. I wanted Oz to look that way on purpose. He is its own separate thing.

When I checked the blogs responsible both of them were/are way too comfortable saying unprompted remarks on other peoples post. Where do you even find the audacity to tell me on my post of my oc that you prefer someone else's design when said 'design' was just fanart of aftonsparv. Oz is not the ikea alien he doesn't even look that much like the Ikea alien I didnt even know aftonsparv had a tail until I got the set myself (Their names are Bogos and Binted btw). Oz honestly falls more into the Palm Pal Ross territory because of his stubby legs.

Can the Aftonsparv people be normal about Oz? like hes an oc for TADC not the actual Ikea Alien or Palm Pal Ross hes inspired what the fuck are yall talking about on my oc post

[osarina]

I CAME SCREAMING AND RUNNING WHEN I HEARD YANDERE DAZAI OMLL HOW DO YOU PERSONALLY SEE YAN!DAZAI??? cause theres so many ways to characterize him if he becomes Yandere especially if you compare and contrast his PM and ADA self

... here we go. yanzai my beloved - i dont think u guys understand how insane i am over him. anyway, i'm not making this one as long as i planned to because (surprise) i've planned out a two-part fic for this that i want to write when i'm done with civilian!dazai, and i dont want to spoil it. hehe.

but. in general, i think even non-yanzai would be veryyyyy possessive over his lover. yanzai is on an entirely different level though - and even WITHIN yanzai, i think pm yanzai and ada yanzai are entirely different monsters and i mean that so literally. but first, in general, possessive, very manipulative. yanzai has likely found his reason to live in his lover and he's NAWT about to let that go.

yanzai in general would tend to lead toward manipulation through guilt and isolation, i think. i don’t think any version of yanzai would ever get violent with his partner and i stay heavy on that belief. he’s got more of a tendency to treat you like you’re something fragile that could break at any given moment.

also i'm going to split pmzai into two - canon pmzai (ages 15-18) and then pmzai in an au where he never left the pm. so the order i'm gonna talk about is canon pmzai, canon adazai (as a direct follow up to canon pmzai), and then im gonna talk about pmzai au where he never left the pm.

for the purposes of this, assume that reader joined the pm when they were young

canon pmzai

so first i want to talk about how it probably starts, because i could sooooo very much see this starting while he & his lover are young. since this is canon, i imagine they meet at around 15/16 like i have dazai & pmreader meeting. dazai's clearly a lot more unstable during his early pm years and i think his obsession with his lover could start with something really minimal tbh. maybe they shoot an offhand compliment to him, or stop to pick something up that he dropped, and dazai is just so alone & isolated by mori atp that he just completely fixates on this person because they’re the first one to ever say/do something kind for him, as small as it may have been.

i think it would even start out harmless, spends a lot of time thinking about you, daydreaming. maybe he even steps in on missions for you - which he notably doesn't do for anyone because he doesn't want to do more work than he has to. but something would happen that eventually triggers the shift from harmless to a veryyyy dangerous obsession. maybe you got critically wounded on a mission, or maybe you start spending time with other people—whatever it is, it just flips a switch in him because he realizes that he is not about to loose you and he doesn't care what he has to do to make sure of it.

on this topic ^^ maybe this is a hot take, but i think canon pm yanzai would be entirely more dependent on his lover compared to adazai. adazai is still dependent, but not to the extent pmzai is. i know people hc him as hyper independent, which i also mostly hc for him, but i think if he's found someone that he's attached himself to like this, he’s young enough that he'll quickly become codependent on them, and that obviously scares him which makes him even more intense with his yan tendencies.

that being said, i still think that he would be careful to not alert you to any shift of his mentality. he'd be very hyperaware of keeping a good image in your eyes, so everything he does do is going to be behind the scenes. he'd probably work a lot with isolation and trying to make you as dependent on him as he is on you—justifies it by telling himself that it's not fair that he can't live without you but you can live without him LOL, won't be satisfied until he's inclined enough to believe that if he was gone you would be ruined without him (which comes into play when he leaves the mafia). he also makes sure that the missions you go on - if he even has you going on any - are all easy AND he makes sure he's overseeing them. probably phrases it as just a shift in command, assuming you were someone else's subordinate first, and you don't really have any reason to think anything of it.

i think he'd keep a really tight hold on his image up until the events of dark era, that whole ... week ? i assume its about a week, of everything going down with ango and oda just tosses him into a mental spiral and he'd probably let the mask slip a few times in front of you. i still don’t think it’s enough for you to really question anything—not until he leaves, that is.

now moving on to adazai - but first, the underground years:

we're gonna assume that you stay with the pm when he leaves. i think he'd spend a lot of his underground years honestly just keeping an eye on you from a distance. i think he'd be like very back and forth with how he feels, like a part of him is soooo satisfied that you're so broken about him leaving but then the other part of him has him wanting rip out his own throat for being the reason for your distress. he'd be rlly hyperaware of you "moving on" from him. his go to would be driving people away from you, like it was while he was with the pm but it's a lot harder now that he has to be a "ghost" so to speak, so i think he would target you yourself more often. and it would be little things, like whenever he sees you start talking to someone new, he'd leave little things around your apartment to remind you of him. maybe pictures you'd taken together, or small trinkets, anything to make you remember him and trigger you back into that spiral of missing him. BUT that being said, i think he would be very careful to ensure that you don't realize it's him leaving these things around, so he'd go through your apartment and look for stuff and would lay it out carefully to make you think that you just happened to leave it out.

i think over the course of his underground years, you start to realize that whatever you had with dazai was not healthy and how he acted with you was not healthy, and dazai does take note of this in his 💀 long hours observing you, which is why he’s so careful to keep up his new mask with you when he inevitably meets you again (read below).

OK now adazai

adazai is interesting. i went back and forth with this a lot, but i think adazai would really utilize his new job & demeanor as a tool to make you come back to him/fall for him again, especially if you’d started to put things together during the years he was gone. he frames his leaving it as how it was just something he had to do, look how much better he is now, he’s healed & hes good now, and he didn’t know what else to do because he knew his mental state wasn’t healthy back in the mafia. <- i think this would be important specifically because you would take note of how he acknowledges how incredibly possessive and weird he was with you, and in your mind, someone who acts like that probably wouldn’t see anything wrong with it, so the fact that he acknowledges it would be a green flag in your mind because maybe he has grown.

he also would probably hit you with a few guilt trips like he didn’t even know he meant enough to you to make you care about whether or not he was there. he’d be veryyyyyy sweet and honeyed with his apologies and pleas for forgiveness, and he’d be patient too. if you weren’t open to listening to him the first time you run into him, he’d orchestrate several other “run ins” over the next few weeks, whittle down your guard until he can finally claw his way back into your skin.

once that whole first stage of “winning you back” is over, dazai would quickly return to old habits although, however careful he was while in the pm to keep a good image in your eyes, he’s 100000x more careful now. because now it’s beyond just not letting you see the “demon prodigy”, he’s been advertising himself to you as a good, changed man and he has every intention of maintaining that image in your eyes. so yeah, he might be using access to cctv cameras to stalk your every move and yes, he’s slowly but surely driving everyone away from you, but in your eyes, he’s a detective who spends the saving people and that should never waver in anyway.

i think one notable difference is that adazai’s first big goal is going to be to drag you from the mafia, so while he is isolating you from people in the pm, i think he wouldn’t be so quick to isolate you from the members of the agency. in fact he would even encourage it to an extent - as long as they know their place 💀 - until he gets you to leave the pm, that is, then he might start to isolate you altogether again.

adazai likes to fashion himself as a bit of a savior to you i think. he saw how you spiraled without him, and came back to you, promising to never leave you again, apologizing for ever having have. gets in your head by making comments about how he didn’t even know you rlly cared about him like that.

^^ he’ll drag u from the dark shadow of the port mafia and tuck you right into his own shadow instead. and yeah, it might be just as dark, but at least he’ll be there to to make sure some light is peeking through cell bars of his “love”.

nowwww pmzai who never left the mafia.

i think i’ll keep this one short because imo i feel like this would just be canon pmzai without bothering to keep the whole front up in front of you. he doesn’t really care to hide his obsession over you - what are you going to do about it? run? he’s not going to let you do that, and he knows you don’t want to do that anyway. this pmzai is even more unstable than canon pmzai - i imagine he still lost oda, but then failed to even fulfill his last request by leaving the mafia and going to the light, so instead he focuses all of his energy onto the one person he has left: you.

forget missions. you’ll be lucky if he ever lets you leave the pm hq again. people die for looking at you the wrong way - whether it be pity, concern, or “envy” (because dazai is paranoid and thinks everyone is trying to stealing what’s his). sometimes you make comments about it to him, wanting to go on missions & talk to people again, and it triggers breakdowns in dazai that you can never tell if they’re real or fake - panic attacks over losing you like odasaku, begging you not to leave him too, etc. you don’t know if these are real, but he’s got you so tight around his finger already that the off chance that these aren’t manufactured to guilt you into dropping the subject is enough to make you give in.

[skatetragedy]

3/12/22

lately therapy has been pretty intense, i feel like i’ve had a couple therapists before that mostly only touched on surface level trauma. my new therapist is pretty intense, shes very sweet but sometimes i genuinely feel like my brain can’t process whats happening because it’s not use to digging as deep as she wants me to. It’s a bit humbling, hearing her consensus on why i act the way i act, its very vulnerable and embarrassing. i want to be better tho, i want my brain to get as deep as it can so i can be the healthy. in other news updates on some relationships :

athena and i have been talking more, and i think its good. nick really clouded me on many relationships because i was just too embarrassed to admit and talk about it to some friends that knew the extent of how he treated me and how we worked together. i missed her and i dont want a man to make me feel like i cant talk to my friends ever again. shes still with kayla, which is good i believe shes very calm and collected with her and i think shes been needing stability like this for a while. 

ive seen nathalie a couple times recently, shes been talking to ali again which is disappointing but as ive said, i know how it feels. nathalie and i are always good, theres really nothing that will keep us apart or anything like that. we locked in forever nothing to really say about it. 

sal and i are good as well. I do feel a bit of sadness when i think of putting sal thru what i put him thru with nick. i feel embarrassed and like a bad friend, but i dont understand why i couldnt help it. i wouldnt talk to him about it because i didnt want to put him in the position of listening to how his friend is with me and vice versa. eve though nick would never stop complaining but it was two sided when it came to complaints. i would just never say anything. i feel guilty and i dont know how to express it or make up for it. ill try my best. 

nick and i havent spoken. he texted me to wish me well with therapy/work/school and i didnt respond at the moment. i called him one night to express i couldnt/didnt want to be friends with him. i dont think its okay to be friends with an ex let alone one that got you pregnant. he told me i could get over the pregnancy but its just not that easy, i was in n out of the ER, received chemo therapy, and had to be locked in my room for two weeks. it was mentally and physically taxing. he really has no emotion or regard to how i could feel, and i dont understand why i hadnt realized that sooner. i hope he gets the help he needs and that things go well for him, with me excluded from his life. he asked why we couldnt be friends and i gave him a list of reasons, he gave me solutions, then i said i had been seeing someone new and im trying to go my seperate ways, he said “oh so you only called to tell me youre seeing someone new i dont want to hear that” why ask for reasons, give solutions and only fixate on one reason you dont like. i hope he matures, he cant stay alone for very long and his toxic cycle he learned from katie will just continue.

i have a new friend, named mark. hes very attractive, funny, and sweet. we only recently started becoming a bit romantically involved. i had liked him from a distance when i first met him and i didnt understand why. i was talking to n*ck at the time and he was all rocky over the fact sal andi had become friends again and we were hanging out regularly. i believe i met mark on halloween, with a group of others with us. we didnt talk much, i just offered him poppers and he thanked me. end of story for halloween. i pursued him, embarrassingly enough not much came of it, until recently as im used to men being horny and ready to fuck whenever i say hello. i guess thats nice though, we went on a first date to a couple different bars and i had a great time, many embarrassing things happened around him and hes still stuck it through so im hoping that means something good. our first date was refreshing for me, he was gentleman and very fun to be around. aesthetically we are very different people, but mentally very in sync with anything we say or want to do, which was a little scary at first. i do like him, he stayed the night yesterday for the first time and i havent felt someone that comfortable and happy around someone for a long time. we spent all morning giggling and being silly in bed and i dont remember the last time i did that with someone without having sex. its refreshing that everything isnt about having sex at the moment, that he could possibly be around me because he likes who i am. i hope that doesnt change.  

[3liza]

talking about flters and real beauty vs fake beauty and cultural standards etc always makes me think about all the victorian and edwardian novels i read, where the things that people thought about beauty were recorded at length. recently ive been reading a lot of Thomas Hardy (best known for Tess of the D’Urbervilles and Jude the Obscure) and there’s so much discussion of the beauty of people, particularly love interests, both men and women. and these writers, and their eras, and the culture of the eras, was of course obsessed with beauty and youth and also artificial beauty (being the eras of the really transformative corsets, not to mention some of the earliest industrialized or modernized beauty products or processes), as all human societies are to a greater or lesser extent in their own ways, but the thing that sticks out to me in reading these books is how beauty is not the singular or even the most important aspect of a person’s overall attraction. if someone has a beautiful face or figure, it is mentioned, but never to the obsessive, fixated extent that physical beauty is isolated from and elevated over all other features in modern american/western culture. there are plenty of protagonists or love interests in these books who are described as not young, or not remarkable, or not pretty, or even ugly or frightening, but nevertheless compellingly sexy and attractive, or simply interesting, or worthy in some way. 

its weird that the cultural consciousness has become seemingly ignorant of non-physical attraction. like that anon that was in my inbox talking about how they were “normal looking’ and therefore “needed” filters in order to “compete” with attractive people. it’s a weirdly mercenary and capitalist view of the social economy, first of all, which absolutely is not zero-sum no matter how badly the social networks want to convince us that it is. but there was never a single mention from that person about their ability to charm or entertain or attract using anything except a fake photo of themselves. wild. im fuckin worried about them! im worried about every young person how has brain worms

when i was about 4 and starting to become aware of how much adults were obsessed with my appearance because i was dainty and blonde and could do a passable shirley temple imitation, my parents gave me a very serious lecture about what physical beauty actually meant: i didn’t work for it (yet, i mean i do a lot of work now as an adult), it was given to me genetically. and someday, maybe sooner or more suddenly than anyone could predict, it would be gone. if accident, illness, or hardship didnt get me, old age eventually would. so with that being a certainty, i had better build a life and a personality on something other than my looks. and i said, ok. every day i get older im more grateful for that advice and the fact i decided to take it to heart instead of trying to gamble on Being Hot for long enough to get job security. which is also a valid career choice but it’s a risky one. always better to have a fallback just in case.

im of an age rn where a lot of women in my peer group are starting to get a very hunted vibe about the impending end of their youth, which is valid. theres nothing foolish about it, its not their fault, theyre not stupid or somehow lacking because this is an issue in their lives. but im noticing that i am significantly less freaked out by, idk, how long ago the 90s were or whatever, because i have been expecting to get old since i was in kindergarten. and i had adults around me who were just like “hey this is what old people look like and what bodies do over time. its not a big deal. everything on tv is fake btw”. i didnt get out unscathed, ive had eating disorders and all sort of weird brain-body problems. 

my advice i guess if i have any is to go outside and really look around you. notice how almost every single woman, and most men, has at least some cellulite, even if its just when theyre sitting down or whatever. notice how everyone has blemishes and zits. most people have some dandruff. if someone is wearing makeup, it’ll be cakey or balled up or smeared or uneven or clumpy even if it’s just a bit. everyone over the age of about 20 will have stretch marks somewhere, even if they aren’t visible except in certain light. i was under the impression i didnt have many until one time seeing a picture of my butt in FULL natural light and finally saw the entire surface of both cheeks was covered in straitions, they just were hard to see most of the time because im the color of drywall and scars tend to be light. it’s really easy to spot hair extensions and wigs and fake nails and fake tans and shapewear once you figure out how to see it. and none of these things take away from someone’s character. 

there’s a strong argument to be made that when corsetry was the norm, no woman was expected to simply be the shape of the corset unless she was actually wearing it. photographs and drawings of women in the 19th and early 20th century were retouched a bit as all photos have been, yes, but they were not retouched to make naked women appear to be corset-shaped. THAT is new. people are now getting surgery to be corset-shaped. and like, i dont think anyone should not be able to look however they want if they want to have that surgery. that is one meaning of cyborg feminism, probably. what i dont want, is for anyone to ever think that’s a normal way to look (except for veryvery tiny mathematical outliers, the Barbie Hips Georg of instagram) WITHOUT surgery or shapewear. which i see a lot now. i saw an instagram fashion designer with a very obviously surgically-altered body answer a question in her inbox about how she maintained her figure with some nonsense about diet and exercise. so now some (probably young) person out there is thinking that if they just do intermittent fasting enough, theyll look like a woman with butt and boob implants, a BBL, fillers, etc. that person probably thinks that if they arent able to diet and exercise good enough, they will fail at looking that way through their own laziness and lack of work ethic or whatever. i see that mindset constantly, especially in young women.

the surgery isnt the issue. the look itself isnt the issue. the filters themselves arent the issue. the issue is that on none of these images, is there an indication of what has been changed or how. the brain damage effect of filters would be lessened, i think, if everyone KNEW which images had been altered and how. so maybe thats the answer? mandatory labeling? i dont know. what’s terrifying is that the average adult human in america cant tell from a glance what has been altered in a photograph, no matter how clumsily, because they simply dont have a template for what a real human looks like anymore. the false images have supplanted the real images, the actual memories of alive humans that you know and have met or lived with. 

if you go into any of the shittier men’s spaces online you will find threads for posting pictures of “beautiful girls”, and it is page after page after page of teenagers in full makeup, hair extensions or wigs, circle lenses, facetuned, bodytuned, surgery, etc, and then hundreds of men yearning and fanning themselves over her “natural beauty”. dont go looking for this stuff, it will permanently fuck you up to know what a basic guy on the bus is thinking about women every day. dont do it

but i also seriously predict a backlash into “natural” looks after this current madness, similarly to how the 1960s saw the rise of the hippie girl with swingin titties, pit hair and no high heels after the consumer beauty madness of the 50s. of course the 60s beauty ideals were in some ways just as fake, but there was some authentic yearning towards a freedom from capitalist bodies as well. so when that happens send me $20: paypal.me/3liza. should be in like the next 4 years or so. thanks

[jean-does-not-have-a-horseface]

Neon Silhouettes

Hello! I’m very happy to finally post this because ive been working on this for a month! This is serving as an entry to @ackermans-freedom-inc discord challenge. Behold it’s long!

Word Count: 10.538k, i’m not even sorry

Pairing: Eren/ Reader

Tags: a n g s t, vigilante!au

Warnings: blood, violence, major character death (? its open to interpretation) 

In contrast to yours, Eren's breath is hot and tainted on the nape of your neck when you push him away from your form in an attempt to get more oxygen running through your system. The hazy high of your orgasm is mighty, similar to a fairytale like dream and makes all air around you run thin with each passing second. You're not sure if you're paying much attention to it, though, because your breath seems to be completely restored before you even think about catching up with it.

Eren makes a loud thud as he plops himself into the matress with his utmost enthusiastic moves. You can tell by his reactions that he enjoyed this intercourse even more than he'll ever admit -not that he's shy to ever do so- and that he seeks a way to relax himself from his own high. For that very reason, his hands are rather quick to pull you on his panting chest, just to provide some comfort for himself but in the process your silent plea to get a breather is long forgotten. You feel you head being smashed onto his smooth skin and you relax under the touch, thinking that you could cease this moment to fall into serenity as well.

With your heart still beating through your ribs though, you contemplate on whether or not falling into serenity now is a logical idea at all. Anxiety has planned seeds in your stomach ever since a few hours prior to your solo patrol in this area of Trost, merely at the thought of bumping into Eren. You had been practicing the words your comrades had assigned you to consider one too many times, and yet, the moment you laid eyes on Eren's helmet covered face your nervousness had worked wonders on turning them into thin air. It had happened so fast that you wondered if this was an actual new power you could posses.

Nevertheless, the anxiety is back now and it's growing its bindweeds in the pits of your stomach. A chapped piece of your lip is stuck under your front teeth, ready to be ripped off as your fingers are mimicking a walk, up and down on Eren's chest. You're not sure if you can talk and consequentially, the thin piece of flesh is ripped away from your lips forcefully, allowing the thin, iron like taste of blood to conquer your senses.

And in the moment it's all you can focus on.

It's always like this when it comes to Eren and yours passionate rendezvous; your mind is drenched of any thought other than him, your heart ceases to pulse inside your body and your legs feel like the most trashy, inexpensive jello -yes the one you ought to find at random 7/11s in the middle of nowhere after a long night of patrol when you're so hungry that your stomach feels likes its going to burst throughout your mouth canal. And yes, you've tried to restrain yourself from feeling this way, but it's not easy, especially when Eren's hand comes to tangle its way through your hair, scratching softly at your roots.

Clicking your tongue in your mouth though, you can't help but let your mind wander just for you to realise it's been so long since you've had said trashy jello dessert. It's not like you exactly miss it -no, you wouldn't say you did, its taste was atrocious- but it's nostalgic to think about your debut days as a younger superhero. Especially when you think about that it was due to that that you met Eren.

The thought that feasts on your brain though is nothing more than a projection of everyone's nostalgia of Eren, not only yours. The only reason he's laying underneath you with his right hand bent under his head and catching his heavy breaths as his chest basically pulsates and squirms under your form is because you've chosen to dance in that dark sewer of a world that is the reality of anti heros. Everyone who knows about you and Eren -mostly Levi and Mikasa- have pushed you over the edge of trying to shake him off of his criminal killing rampage, but you know him better than anyone. Thus, in reality, you don't know about whether you should utter that little speech that's at the tip of your tongue.

You nervously chew onto that tiny piece of flesh you've ripped from your lip for over a minute before you dare to try and think about what to do with it. Swallowing seems like a good option, the thought of spitting it like a bitten off nail unsettles you to a certain extent, plus you're not sure if bitten flesh activates Eren's titan senses. You never truly know what triggers people with titan powers and you're not about to risk it. Ironically, that's exactly how you're feeling when it comes to your thoughts but after you feel the teeny bundle of flesh go down your throat your mouth washes the taste of iron away and parts to your brain's command.

"Eren?" You breath out, your eyes despairately trying to fixate on anything other than his form.

Eren's finger is harsh and calloused to the touch as it mellowy grazes the soft skin on the underside of your wrist. Your eyes are finally fixed to the circling movements and though you want to give in the the long for sleep your eyelids suddenly ache for, your mind, much allured by how serene everything feels, pushes you to protest against it. There's nothing you can do about your fast mouth though; resenting it hasn't ever seemed like the way to go through with it.

"Yeah, baby?" Eren half moans to your direction.

You notice how he shifts his form comfortably from underneath you, obviously in search of the perfect sleeping position. Naturally this should have kept you back from speaking further; well this and the fact that he isn't exactly expecting what you're about to say, but nonetheless you swallow hard and bite on the inside of your cheek before you open your mouth to speak once again.

"Can we talk about it, lovey?" You hesitate with the nickname, yet when you utter it you know you dont regret its sappy nature.

"About it?"

"You know," you trail off "About the Titans case."

"What is there to talk about? We'll sort the case out one and for all, we've agreed on it."

Well of course, for both you and Eren, and probably every other person in this world, this case is something that should permanently close. It only seems fair, all those years that you've spent being hunted by those monsters are starting to put an overwhelming amount of weight into modern superheros and anti-heros alike. Everyone basically had the same goal concerning this case, yet people are still split as to how it should be closed.

Eren says it's fitting for The Titans to pay for their sins with more blood than they have managed to spill; they're a top crime syndicate that focuses on abducting humans and mutating them into bloodlusting monsters, just for the purposes of creating their own sick and twisted army of mindless pawns. Eren, having fallen an indirect victim of their brutality stands by his beliefs and won't let a titan standing on their feet when he encounters one.

But he wasn't always like this. Not exactly

Back in the day when he worked as Levi's sidekick, he wouldn't brutalize them to the point where they'd bleed to death, but he would make sure they weren't going ever be healed again, not even if they were ever given an antidote. His falling out with Levi and your team of superheroes though, followed by the brutal murder of his mother had withered Eren's psyche with tormentous force.

You furrow your brows as your mind travels back to those dark memories, dipping into necessary pieces of information that need to be composed in some way for you to reply to him. Ironically, it was when Eren turned his back on your team that you found some major leads as to who run the Titans and possibly even why.

"We'll sort the case," you say "but I don't think you should be murdering them."

Eren takes the hand that acts as a comforter over your harshly and pinches the bridge of his nose as he exhales in disapproval. You know, his face must be scrunched in misery right now, brows puckered over his nose and eyes firmly closed shut. You can listen to his heart and in turn you feel the buzzing his pulse makes as it speeds up a tad.

"We've talked about this. You do you. And I do me."

For a moment you contemplate on whether you want to use your psychic superpowers on him. To think that you can change his mindset is an enchanting thought; in fact right now, it's so alluring that you feel the familiar awakening of your powers rush through your veins. It feels like cotton candy colored poison -that's probably the best way you can describe it according to other psychic's. Your powers, as naive and endearing they may seem can easily flip the cards on you at any given moment of weakness; it's like your natural instincts awaken with a mind of their own to protect and help their host. But it's merely unethical and dictating to force such change on your beloved as much as it is to do so on the next person.

Your mouth puckers to the right as you let your brain roam over every single possible outcome that this conversation can have, yet you never even flinch on Eren's chest, sternly refusing to let your body react to his words. One wrong reaction and Eren's hotheadedness will bite you in the ass.

"Dont be like that, (y/n)." Eren says

You have to admit he's catching you off guard when his hand comes to move your chin to point at his direction. It's his checkmate move and he knows it, blinking his real eyes into yours, he frees his brows from their gathering, leaving small red lines as reminders of his temper behind. You on the other hand, with your short hitched breaths and that constipated look on your face though you can't help but predict his next sarcastic plea.

"Don't look at me like that."

You cough that little angry, hot huff of air that's trapped inside your lungs for oh so long before you plough your elbows under your face to support your form in order to face him. You never detach yourself from him and you don't plan on doing so, this is probably the only way to make him feel that you take into consideration all his boiling bad blood.

"You know damn well why I'm looking at you like that."

"I do." He shrugs casually and then proceeds to shut his eyes in despair "but you're not here to question my means." Eren sighs in defeat as the words come out of him and proceeds to wrap his arm around you again.

However you pucker your eyebrows further, bringing them impossibly closer to your eyes as you boil the words you seek to speak in the back of your throat "I'm not questioning them. I'm resenting them. I'm not even playing the goody superhero on you, but really why are you doing this?"

You never fail to notice how Eren bites the inside of his cheek or how he clenches his grip on you almost like a silent warning at to what territory you're opting to walk into, but you ignore it, sighing all the way through your mouth hoping that the little oxygen you can fill your lungs with is enough to get you through this.

"Everyone misses you. Don't you care about that?"

Does he? Eren wants to believe that whatever he's doing he's doing it because all of you are excessively significant to him. I all honesty he is fuming over the fact that you don't see how this is the only inevitable option. He hates for his alter ego to be called a mass murderer in the news every other day just as much as he hates the fact that people choose to see a redeemable side to human flesh eating mutants.

"If I don't do what I do, history is going to repeat it self." He spits, harshly enough that he's sure you won't reply just yet. "You and this pretentious superhero facade are not going to be here to live it down with me though."

He watches as your face contorts in surprise as his words fall, your mouth snapping open in order to utter your quick fetched reply but he cuts you off with an even harsher tone this time.

"I'm clearing the world from all this alright? There are many people that do so as well-"

"Who? Flotch and Yelena?" You cut him off, but still he brushes it off.

With a shift in your movements you're on your back, your arms moving mechanically to grab onto the covers to bring them onto your bare chest. Eren can read the action all too well and he hates it, he hates it enough that he runs his hands painfully through his hair, despairate to get them away from the burning skin on his neck. Anxiety has worked wonders on his body, he figures.

"You, Levi, Mikasa, Jean, Connie! Want me to throw more names in your face? Me and my team finish off what you guys chicken out to do." Eren's voice is calm yet his tone is drenched in poison, that mellow sound he makes when he re opens his mouth is what's pushing you over the edge, making your blood boil inside your body. It causes you to wrap your fingers tightly onto the blanket that covers your chest, your fists turning white as you clench on it with full force. As if it can help you concentrate all of your anger on the spot.

Naturally, it can't.

"We're not chickening out Eren, we focus on containing all evil, not annihilating it. To think you can do that-"

"I can-" Eren cuts you off, though you won't let him continue until you get your point across.

"You must be really dumb to carry that mindset. What happens after you annihilate the titans, will you do the same for any other similar crime syndicate? Or are your motives personal only when it comes to this one?"

Eren bites on the sides of his tongue with a piercing force and swallows hard on the bitterweet spit that forms due to the action. He forcefully tosses his head to both left and right to shake away any unwanted thought out of his mind but it hurriedly proves to be fruitless. As much as he has liked to think that you can get past that fight on your morals one day, it's obvious to him that it's a fundamental dynamic between the two of you. It's a concrete wall that's none of you can or are willing to try to go through. And he doesn't like that, not one bit.

"Don't try to boss me into your beliefs." His eyes widen as he speaks, voice tainted in a growling anger that he can feel cooking inside his chest.

"I'm not bossing you Eren, stop acting like this."

"Why are you so fucking hang up on this now out of all times?" He spits more so that questions.

"We're so close to catching Zeke and your team is close to doing so as well, I'm just worried." You admit, shyly loosening the clenched cover from your fist in fear of ripping it. "I want us to be a normal couple after this. I care about you."

Your mind is fogged with animalistic rage, yet you still manage to swallow it down, past that lump in the back of your throat that tik dangerously on your clock and threatens to burst. It's only when you try to show the nature of your thoughts and intentions that you watch Eren's face finally contort in rage that's much similar to yours. You fall back for a brief moment, allowing him to take advantage of the silence in the room to answer back to you.

"When I catch Zeke I'm not sparing him."

Eren lets the breath that's trapped in the depths of his chest out before it manages to suffocate him. Thinking about Zeke and how he's standing opposite to him makes him feel sick to the stomach, but he has accepted that it's only just his luck that his half brother happens to be working for the titans. Accepting that Zeke wants to collect all nine original titans for the syndicate to use as they wish has been a hard task to do so, he can admit to that much but he's swore to never let his connection to the man hold him back from putting an end to this misery.

"Eren don't be so stubborn." You plea, brows impossibly covering your eyes as your voice reeks of rage.

"I'm not, quit playing the rightful hero and maybe we can have this conversation when you'll be able to see things from my side."

He can see that you're drowning in your own words, fighting to find the right syllabuses to utter, but he refuses to give you any time, his own rage is ticking like a bomb, he can feel his stomach growling in the familiar numbness anger casts upon his organs and he knows he can't hold back.

"Do what you gotta do, but I'm ending them, I'll fight your team too if I have to get to what needs to be done."

"Oh yeah?" You let out an amused, angry chuckle before continuing "You'll fight me?"

"Gladly!" Eren spits, his eyes wide as his eyebrows twitch in determination.

"Don't say things you can't take back. Don't be an asshole."

"Last time I checked the definition of an asshole was someone who won't support their partner in their decisions, whether they agree with them or not."

You glance towards Eren's drawer, fuming to the point you struggle to control your powers. Your breath is refusing to regulate even if you beg for it to work the way you want it to, causing you to try and think of the most possibly rational plan to get your self out of this situation. You can't stand looking at Eren for the time being, any glance at his side is making you fume to the point your insides coil making you think you're going to start emitting smoke.

"Fuck! Fuck! You won't even try to understand me, I don't even know what I'm doing with you."

You have a small drawer filled with your clothes at Eren's place and he has one in yours. Convently, you've persuaded him to keep a superpower restraining collar in case either of you ever go out of control, which seems to be the case for you now. Eren's last words are poisoning you, burning their way inside your veins. Thus reaching the collar becomes your ultimate goal in the moment; you resent the extend in which your own powers can reach and you refuse to cause more drama by hurting Eren without intending to.

Your ears fall deaf to what Eren is fuming about, its necessary to try and keep ignoring him if you want to focus on completing this simple task. Your head is spinning, lost in the dark colored vertigo you've entered in your effort to focus on your goal. Pushing past it is vital in any case you want to prevent anything from happening. With the sudden swing of your wrist the drawer bursts open with force, the small amount of clothes inside are shot to the ceiling.

The metallic collar shines under the light as it stands proudly in the air as clothes continue to practically spill to any direction. Your stretched fingers make a half turn, as if signing the way to you to the object, your thumb shoting as far back as it can physically can go while your pinky stands inches away from the edge of your palm and your wrist. Your heart is hammering inside your chest for the remaining seconds it takes for the object to come to you and though, even if it's coming to you at full force and speed any passing moment feels like an eon.

You almost manage to sigh in relief as the metal touches tour throat but the action is cut short the moment your breath suddenly hitches reflexively. The collar fails to wrap around your throat and click in place, rather than that its resting in Eren's palm. The veins in his arm are twitching much expectly; he's using all of his force to hold the collar back, fighting your control over the object with his inhuman strength, still you won't let go of your hold either, not caring as to what is going to happen to the object, it won't last for long with all this strength force upon it, you're sure of that.

"If you want to me to respect you enough to fight with you, you won't enslave yourself with none of these fucking shits. Handle your powers on your own."

Your eyes are twitching, your forehead finally giving in to an endless amount of sweaty droplets. There's a throb mirrored by your pulse in the edge of your neck and you throw your head back in defeat before you even manage to think about it. The collar crumbles and smashes in Eren's palm under his grip, the metal cracking slightly as his skin twitches and burns in protest.

"I want us to be free of this, you think if get my hands dirty if it wasn't supposed to end in a way that I expected and calculated meticulously?"

Despite the fact that Eren is spitting those facts, you manage to distinguish the true intention of his choice of words, pushing past his harsh tone. It's unfair that you chose to anger him to such extend, you're angry as well but you come to realise that it's only because you are both afraid. Eren is afraid if losing you and his friends to the hands of another titan and you're afraid to lose Eren in the hands of his bloodlust. The collision between good or bad is only what you try to mask your fears with; what you see as bad and evil, Eren does so as well. Your perspective only changes as to how you view the means to reach the rightful good.

War can't exist without peace and peace can't exist without war.

You think back to what you told him earlier and in a snap you realise that for the time being, that's just about as normal as the two of you can get. An anti hero with his hands clenching a crushed power restraining collar, because he detests anything that strips people off their freedom and their given right to it, and a concerned superhero with her head thrown back in deafeat, giving up on trying to get a so called noble point across. In a way, both you and Eren have chosen this when you decided to take a shared path despite the fundamental differences on your beliefs.

And for a moment you think you're going to get past it. All couple have fights, all couples gets enraged with each other at least once in their span of time but they always manage to bounce back and stand on their feet next to each other. You're not exactly sure if Eren is standing right next to you or if he's opposed to you both literally and mentally but you relax back in the comforter thinking that you'll get an answer in a moment.

Eren's breaths are finally starting to regulate and he can't help but take notice of you slipping inside the comforter, your head hitting the pillow with a muffled thud. His long bangs are sprawled over his face, some fine chocolate hairs tingling the sensitive skin on his nose, some of their edges tickling at his fleshy lips. His mind is blurry, so blurry that he refuses to acknowledge the hand that is still clinging onto the collar, his posture is finally fixed on the bed before he decides to slide down in a movement so that he can lay right next to you.

"I'm sorry." He speaks first, his left hand forming into a fist as it lands on his forehead, pressing with its back on the throbbing veins and nerves that beg to release some of the tention they have gathered.

"I shouldn't have brought it up, it's my fault."

"Seems like we can't meet halfway when it comes to this." He hazes.

“No” 

Sighing, you sink further into the matress, raising your hand to mimic Eren’s actions to cover your face with the back of your hand. You chirp a little sound of misery as you do so, finding hard to swallow down through the knot that has formed in your throat.

"Is this it?" You ask, your voice barely louder than a whisper "Is this how it's going to be for us?"

"If you think I'm going to give up on my beliefs for you then I have some bad news."

Eren turns his head to you, sternly fixing his teal eyes in yours while his jaw is clenching, his bottom lip trembling and worrying as he chews on his words. A hitched sigh exits your nose as your eyes start burning I'm their attempt to hold back tears, the corners of your lips curving downwards causing your button lip to pucker sourly. You keep on staring at Eren and he keeps staring back at you, both of your chests heaving with short chopped breaths. You don't dare touch each other, not right now when you can't hold back your emotions, but you can definitely see how hurt he looks just as much as he can do the same for you.

"Well I can't turn my back on mine either." You choke, not daring to part your mouth enough for the words to exit correctly.

"Maybe you should just-" Eren opens his mouth, twitching out the words before he manages to mumble them "go."

The tears that threaten to spill from the corners of your eyes are finally flowing, running in burning hot streaks past your nose before landing cold onto your ear. You hate it, you hate the moist sensation on your cornch and you hate that Eren's eyes never fail to notice every single tiny droplet that fall from your lips.

His constipated expression won't scatter away from his face, rather than that it only hardens as he tried to hold back and onto those tiny pools in the corners of is eyes.

He wants to speak, you know because he keeps opening his mouth to do so, but the only sounds he emits are deep growls of pain. He doesn't know how to feel about them, you've seen him cry numerous times, yet this heartbreak seems so inevitably painful to endure on his own. It's another love he has to bid goodbye because of those godamn titans and it's even more painful that he knows that by annihilating them, he'll never be able to claim you as his anymore.

He'd rather clear the world for you to live peaceful and free though.

...

The sound of your fists colliding with the back leather of a boxing sack fills the air, bouncing in between the gray marble colored walls of the headquarters. The room you're in is soundproof, causing the sound to linger in the air as you pant, holding your sour spit in your mouth as you throw another punch and kick to the sack. Sweat drips from your forehead and onto the mat beneath you yet you make no movement in trying to wipe it off, you simply let it drip while picking up your foot in order to flip it onto the dummy.

"Easy there now"

When Jean's hand comes to rest on your shoulder giving you a little comforting squeeze, you jump on your spot, startled much by the sudden action. For a moment you avoid turning your head to face him; despite the amount of mellow warmth and comfort his touch provides you with, you don't feel like you can regulate that rush of adrenaline that pumps through your veins.

Your fists, numb by the raw force you've used to launch punches to the boxing sack before you are now inevitably frozen, hugging the dummy with enough strength to make it fall in place. As the sound of the metallic chain clashing fills the air your nostrils snort hot huffs of air, your eyes squinting shut as your brows remain furrowed to forbid any drop of sweat from running down to your face. Jean inspects your constipated expression as he moves around, taking small steps as he approaches you from this new position, finally coming to face you with an understanding smile.

"I noticed you're pushing your self a lot lately." He says, his hand coming to squeeze on your shoulder once again. He presses his lips into a thin line, the action making his straight nose scrunch slightly.

"It's fine." You snark "I could use some excessive combat training to be honest. Mikasa said you and her can help someday."

"Okay then! Let's spare now." Jean says enthusiastically and his hands come to his sides, his fists clenched as a smug expression appears on his face "Ditch the dummy."

Nonetheless you snicker in response. Bringing your finger to your temple, you awkwardly scratch on the tender skin at the tail of your eyebrow. Next, your hands come to your loose ponytail, giving a little tag at the elastic loop that's used to hold them in place, pulling it down to the ends of your hair.

"Sorry, not in the mood." You bite, but Jean is irritatingly not ready to give up on you just yet.

"Weren't you just splitting your knuckles, punching that sack? Like, a few seconds ago? Drop the emo attitude and show me what you got."

Kissing your teeth you bow down, aiming to go for the towel you've neatly folded on your foamy work out mat, taking it carefully in your hands in order to bring it to your sweat dripping face. While crossing his hands to his chest, Jean throws you his signature expression of disapproval -yes, the one he liked to throw at Eren while calling him a suicidal bastard and yes, if Mikasa, not just anyone, asked him he'd admit to having missed the particular interaction with your now ex boyfriend. The male sighs, parting his mouth open, ready to utter what he thinks will help you.

"If it helps, I've been saying Eren is a dick from the very start, I'm sorry you had to be convinced of the fact in such way."

Its your turn to throw him a disapproving look now.

Jean, similarly to the next person, knows how much you hate talking about /that/ fateful night with Eren. The wound is still fresh -whether or not it took place a few weeks ago, the pain of being ripped away from your lover over your ideals isn't a wound that's easy to close and additionally it's rather hard when you know nothing can come of an attempt to reconcile. But Jean can't just silently stand to watch you destroy your self and your relationships with people who care about you.

Each passing day you trade your words for mumbles and grunts, your signs of affection into powerful punches aimed either at that old black dummy you were hugging a few seconds or at a vast amount of metas during nighttime patrols. Knowing you and how you handle such outrages, Jean is sure that at this point you've smashed your fists against each and every single one of these gray marble colored walls, only holding back your self as to not smash Armin's tech corner. But before he gets a chance to shake his head in the slightest only to get ready to mouth his comfort speech to you, the automatic glass doors to the room open.

Turning his head around, Jean is met with Connie and Armin as they enter the room, both of them sparing him their most confused look upon inspecting the scene unraveling before them. Jean shrugs his shoulders, throwing his hands up in defeat, his eyes traveling quickly between you and his friends, signaling them you're proving to be difficult to deal with once again.

As the door behind him closes with a woosh Connie sucks on the inside of his cheek, trapping the tender gum between his teeth, his lips puckering slightly as he looks at you, his otherwise playful eyes now squinted in worry.

"What?" You speak, pressing your lips together and pushing them to the side of your face. Reluctantly, you cock a brow to Connie's direction.

"Me?" With his thumb to exaggerate the word, Connie points to himself and the proceeds to take a few steps towards Jean. Finally, he bends his hand, resting his fist over his hip, throwing his weight onto one leg. "You're the one with the constipated expression."

"Give me a break everyone" you shrug, shaking your head in defeat.

"Sasha said you pushed yourself too far last night during patrol."

"Yeah, so what?" You ask, batting your eyes to the male trio. You're probably as unamused as they are at this point.

You notice how Armin is the one to let out a sigh next, his blonde hair swaying by the force of air that exits his mouth. He's angrily clapping his foot to the ground while clenching his fists to his sides, his baby blue eyes fixated on you. You bring the top of your finger to your head, scratching the skin just below your ear, your foot awkwardly rocking back and forth. It's almost as if no one in the room can avoid the the upcoming conversation right now.

All Armin sees is that your lip is split, bruised much like your eyebrow and a part of your jaw. There's a lot of dried blood on each tiny wound, but the amount is enough to make up for the lack of proper patching and the sight is heartbreaking to the point it makes the blond's blood boil. If Armin could find it in himself to utter a word he would be able to name a good amount of reasons as to why he was enraged with you. One of them being the fact that you've been brutalizing yourself in the streets every night and another one that you've been definitely pushing yourself even more during training, aiming to shut yourself off of your team completely.

"Armin, if you have something to say, then just shoot it."

The way you poke at him is reluctant and nervous in nature. Your jaws clutch together, your shivering teeth making tiny chattering sounds. Armin parts his lips, placing a hand on the gray colored wall behind him, hanging his head down in nervousness. In all reality, he shouldn’t speak his mind, he knows that very well, his personal empathetic feelings for Eren don’t exactly have a reason to have an impact in this situation. Furthermore he’s simply the intel guy, the only member of the team in the team that doesn’t participate in any heroic or vigilantic activity. To interfere with your nightime business would probably harm him more than anyone in the end. As your friend he had to take a stance on what you were going through.

“We’ve all been hurt by Eren.” That’s all that Armin manages to say before putting his feet to work, matching silently to his computer corner, “But, that’s why we are a team. We’re supposed to hold each other when things go wrong. And you need us as much as we need you.”

Rubbing your eyes with your pointer fingers, you let out a deep sigh. When you look up Connie and Jean are half smiling at you, their thumbs pointing upwards and for a fragment of a second, you manage to crack a small smile. You feel your eyes burning slightly, their fleshy corners stinging, but you refuse to let yoyr tears flow now, despite being moved by your friends’ word and noble intentions you keep your emotional breakdown to yourself. You only hope the males are convinced by your small smile.

“Armin has the intel on Zeke’s cargo shipment!” Connie says and immediately his ribs are crushed by Jean’s elbow. “What?”

“Stupiid. We’re not supposed to stress her!”

“It’s fine guys, this is our job.”

Connie links his arm with yours, your sweaty skin littering his long sleeve shirt but he pays the action absolutely no mind, not as much as you at least, and then he proceeds to stick his tongue out to Jean. Jean twitches his eyebrow at him, seemingly irritated by his friend’s smug expression and picks up his feet, marching as fast as you do, trying to catch up. The playful atmosphere is lifting you up, you can definately feel your previous mood lighten by each passing second.

“Speak Armin!” Connie playfully dictates squeishing your elbow in the process.

Armin lets out a laugh, fixing his glasses on the bridge of his nose, his eyes glimmering under the bright blue light of the numerous screens.

“Fine, look,” he says clicking on a tab on the middle screen’s task manager The tab pops up, shining a bright white light thats making your eyes squint. Armin then clicks on some folders and signs at you to wait until the images load. When in turn they pop up, they reveal numerous hsots of the titans new hideaway. Some photos are showing Zeke and his gang standing before it, then entering it. You even catch a glimpse of Pieck, the flash of raven hair is much more evident now that shes standing between her blonde team members.

“Do we have the adress?” Jean asks and you can’t help but notice that the look in his eyes is darkening in an a mere instant.

“It’s in alleyway near the port. Although the front is standing proudly on a very well lit place in 6th Avenue.” You nod steadily, sliding your hand upwards to give a comforting touch to Connie’s fingers that are still linked to the inside of your elbow. “Levi gave me the intel to investigate, he came across them the other day and then he searched for security cameras, you know the drill.”

Jean raises his voice authoritatively and sternly as he points to some photos, informing Armin that he needs to investiagte the area around them and prompts you an Connie to do the same as well. He says that it’s necessary to know the area you’ll be oparating on in the following days. You simply nod, extending yor hand to Armin’s direction to point in which pictures you want him to send you and he does as you say not even giving it a second thought.

“Please don’t send them to Eren.”

You pretend to be shocked, but in reality you're not. You understand where Armin is coming from when he mouths the statement, but you assure him that you won't try to communicate with Eren for any reason. You're in no place to put yourself through such thing, not now, not until your job is done.

...

Pushing on his feet, Eren rushes all of his power to his heels, sending his self in the air. He takes a spin mid air, opening his arms wide on either of his sides after he grabs one the guns that rest on the cases that are tied to his breeches. He manages to grab a new line of bullets moments before he lands and he proceeds to shove it to the butt of the gun, the action sending the loud sound of metal colliding filling the air.

As expectedly, he lands on his feet. The annoying rush of his whole body weight on his heels doesn't bother him anymore, he's grown so used to it that it's become a routine. He throws a quickly glance behind him, making sure Flotch and Yelena are right behind him, running silently on their own pace, jumping from building to building.

"Yelena!" Eren shouts "I'm leaving Pieck and Porco to you. Go for the kill the moment you see an opening. And Flotch" he turns his head to the redhead, his voice reeked in authority even though it was muffled by his metallic helmet "Don't let any hero follow my tracks. No casualties. We're proving a point."

Flotch nods rapidly without uttering another word and spares a look to Yelena before they take turns to opposite directions. Eren continues to run straight ahead, his heavy combat boots clashing with various rooftops as he stomps on each one of them with force.

He immediately stops on his tracks as he catches a glimpse of blond hair in an alley. Peaking his head from the edge of a rooftop, he clicks on the side of his helmet, pushing the button that allowed the goggle feature in his helmet to activate.

Zooming in he sees you, your hands clad in an x above your head as you try to avoid the metallic rock like weapons Zeke is throwing at you with full force. Your left foot is thrown back, fully extended while your right leg is bent, your position providing stability as you try to push past and through Zeke's attack.

Through the distracting commotion, Zeke manages to get close enough to you and Eren watches as he lifts his left leg up, getting ready to clash it onto your head. Eren knows, Zeke's force can easily knock you out for several minutes; if he can break through walls with raw fists, Eren can't even phantom what the full capacity of his brute attack can do to your head.

Eren hisses to himself as he stands on his knees, clenching his fists to himself. Quickly enough the skin under his gloves hardens, forming an iron like material over his knuckles. He briefly makes sure they'd hard enough for the attack he has calculated in his mind by rubbing over his knuckles tenderly.

He inhales a good amount of air, his chest filling to the max as he tried on concentrating on his breathing. Regulating his heartbeat is important but he doesn't have enough time, Zeke is in the midst of throwing another wave of metallic rocks in your way. Suddenly Eren stands on his feet for a brief moment before proceeding to take a jump into the alleyway.

The next thing he knows is that his hardened fist lands exactly where he wanted to on Zeke's face, breaking his nose, the bone crashing and shattering making a horrid popping noise that echoes through the cobblestone walls.

His foot sets to find a way to your stomach, pushing a warning kick but with enough force to send you flying in the air, only for a short period of time though. Grunting, you land in a rooftop, clutching onto your pained stomach, coughing up a few breaths that were stuck in your chest upon impact.

Eren makes a fatal mistake; he turns his head to check up on you, momentarily letting down his guard as some form of guilt runs through him. The blond only manages to grasp onto that tiny fragment of his distraction.

Zeke is out of breath as he runs at his full capacity, counting down the seconds to make it to the end of the alley to escape Eren. Eren is fast, faster than the last time Zeke encountered him and slightly more buff, the blond can make out his muscles twitching in rage as he puts his weight onto the tips of his feet, running restlessly behind him. Eren grabs the spare gun that rests on his right thigh with one hand, the shiny spikes that decorate each side of the gun that could possibly land on him at any given moment dazzling him.

Deciding he can't avoid Eren for too long -hes practically right behind him at the very moment- Zeke turns on his feet and sets his right foot behind his left one, tightening his fists as he feels strength rush through his body.

Eren jumps onto him first delivering the first blow, careful not to take the fist that is aimed to him. He bucks down for a split second, avoiding Zeke's second blow and jumps, splitting his feet so that his left leg collides with Zeke's jaw. The blonde leaves a grunt of pain through his mouth, falling back in haze.

With a mid air spin, Eren lands a few meters away from Zeke. He wastes no time in allowing Zeke to catch his breath; he jumps, knee first to deliver a second kick, thought this time it fails to cause the damage he wants. Zeke catches him by the knee the moment he runs into him, gripping with animalistic force, managing to clash the iron kneecap Eren wears for protection.

Zeke lets out a scream as he lands his fist fiercely on Eren's helmet, successfully breaking a hole in it, the kevlar enhanced plastic helmet making a huge shattering sound, its pieces falling anywhere to the concrete ground bellow, some other smaller ones digging their way into Eren's skin.

The act enrages Eren; he backs away bringing his glived fist to wipe on what he figures is blood that's running from his lip. He watches as Zeke takes the chance to turn on his tracks to leave but he resents the act, he bucks slightly to his knees and proceeds to run full speed in his direction, his ultimate goal setting on tackling his brother.

"You're not getting away." Eren spits angrily.

"You've been practicing on your heroic puns haven't you little brother?" Zeke doesn't turn his head back to face Eren, the end of the alley is only a few meters away now, and he'd like to think that he can make it.

The elbow that crushes onto his face and send him in a momentary haze though does definitely belong to Eren. One because despite the vertigo that engulfs him, he can still hear Eren's iron clad footsteps and two because his body never hits the ground when the elbow detaches from his face.

"Where are you running off to Beast?"

Looking up with half lid eyes Zeke smiles a crooked line with his lips, nodding his head to greet you. You huff through your nose with determination, tightening the fist of your hand, causing Zeke to feel squished by the invisible grip you have on him. He squirms in place kicking his feet and expanding his palm.

"Are you here to save me from your lover boy?" Zeke bites at you loudly and your eyes quickly follow Eren's running form, noticing how his helmet is cracked open. Even if it angers you to see him, you try not to let it show right now. It would only take a tiny slips up for Zeke to manage and take the opportunity to outsmart you and challenge you into a physical battle.

"You're not getting away this time, nice try." You shout, freezing his feet with the slightest move of your hand.

Unexpectedly, Eren jumps, gripping Zeke's foot and hanging from it, tagging at the limb with all force. The eye that isn't masked by his helmet is definitely fixed onto you, worrying its glimmer into your soul. You despairately try to brush it off.

Shaking your head you look around to find anything in which you can move Zeke to help Eren land onto. The ground doesn't seem like a good option, Zeke is smart enough to know you can't last long if you have to let go of the mental grip you're forcing on him. You panic as you figure out that he soon will realise your grip on him is able to wobble enough for him to beat your control over him.

"Hand him over (y/n)." Eren screams in your direction, batting his eye to your direction.

You notice Zeke squirming into your grasp as horrified expression proceeds his face. His eyebrows point upwards causing strong rolls of skin to appear on his forehead, his lips curl down in worry and his eyes widen to their max.

"Can't do that!" You turn to Zeke, shooting him a reassuring look, letting him know you wouldn't allow his assassination before your very eyes.

You only understand how foolish you've been to do so when you watch Zeke take a deep breath. Initially you assume he wants to fill his lungs with oxygen due to your harsh grip and you slowly process in your mind the possibilities of what can happen if you chose to loosen your hold on him. It's only when Zeke lets out an eardrum piercing screech that you curse under your breath feeling your mental grip growing weak. Zeke throws you a sorry smile, startling you enough to take a wrong footing on the brick rooftop you're standing on.

You feel your powers flicker even more, to the point it reminds you of a dying flame but you refuse to believe you've reached the end of your potential use of your own meta ability. You pay no attention to Eren and his momentarily twitching as you try to focus on catching your breath. All it should take is a moment, all you need is a moment to calm down your pounding heart and then-

Bam! Bam! Bam!

You sense Zeke slipping away from you unexpectedly and your mouth falls agape, your hands rushing to your ears, despairate to offer protection and and comfort to the buzzing pain you're feeling. Glancing around you notice Eren swirling his gun in his thigh case, smoke emitting from the small opening of the gun, the smell of gunpowder tingling in your nostrils. Even if you're hazy you immediately understand what has happened; Eren's bullets, following Zeke's coordinate scream sent warning shots to his comrades, letting them know of his exact location and if you could guess correctly, giving them information on his situation.

"AH!" Zeke screams in agony, averting your gaze to the commotion that starts to go down on the concrete ground as the Yeager bothers land forcefully on it. Eren's gun is smashed to his brother's head, the iron spikes splitting his cheek open upon impact.

"No!" Your eyes widen as you scream, your body moving to take a quick leap down the side of the rooftop, send bricks to stray into the air as you slide down onto them.

Eren's fists are bouncing quickly onto Zeke's head and torso, taking turns to avoid being overworked. Your eyebrow is twitching automatically, your head is practically on fire, your veins popping and flowing with hit throbs and painful sudden rashes of blood. Eren won't react to your screams, you assume his own adrenaline is covering up the sound of your voice for him.

You land right on top of Eren, sending him in collision with Zeke, crashing his jaw onto his brothers chest. The males let out pained mutters, cursing under their breaths as you push your body weight harder onto them.

"Eren don't do this."

You take Eren's torso into your arms, using as much strength as you can manage to press his back into your chest. You ignore the way your heart painfully spreads up, similarly to the way a schoolgirl's at the sight of her crush, you resist the urge to rest your head on Eren's shoulder from the back like you would have done had the circumstances been any different. You only squeal as you try to transfer all your strength to your hands, your feet giving in and your chest heaving as you try to pull Eren even further into you.

"Get off of me." Eren screams thrashing his hands around with enough strength to shoo your grip on him away.

"No!" You chatter, squinting him even more. "You're not killing your own brother."

"Fucking hell, let me go."

Your hand mechanically searches for Eren's thigh even though your vision is still blurry. You're practically ravaging him with one hand for a few seconds, despairately clinging onto whatever resembled the touch of a gun.

"I'm not going to let you do this." You say, pressing him further into you, your heart basically hammering in its skeleton binds.

If Eren believes the guy with gun is always right in a fight, you have to point a gun at him to prove his own point to him. Right?

You clad your arms under his arpits, securing your grip onto the top of his shoulder as you manage to flick him off, balancing his weight onto both your knees. With a jump, you land on your wobbly feet, your iron clad heels making loud thuds as you jolt your body slightly to Eren's direction. Your wrist flicks, signing to Zeke's hands and consecuentially they come together, seemingly tied up by invisible imaginary bounds.

A harden expression masks your face as you point the edge of the gun to Eren, pushing it mere inches away from his face, the cold metal flushing with the outside parts of his helmet.

"Take it off, slowly." You order, your stern eyes never bowing the the puppy like eyes Eren is pointing at you. "I'm the guy with the gun, if you're smart you do as I say." You turn your face to the right, now pointing directly to Zeke. "You too Beast."

Under any other circumstance you would have felt your heart melt at the sight to your left; bellow his helmet Eren is battered, bruised and he's glistering with swear and grease -you assume it's from the creaks of his head cover- this sight should be enough for you to throw the gun away from your hand, or destroy it with your powers.

Eren hisses as his hands move to click on the securing buttons of his helmet, the lightweight iron thrashing into more pieces as it comes undone, the damage it had undergone seemingly unredeemable. You sighed internally, Eren has more than a dozen of them back at his place, so replacing this one wont be an issue, fortunatelly. Your hard eyes never leave him, his own turqouise orbs fixating on you the moment his helmet is put to the ground. His hands shoot up in defeat, his palms extended as he stares at you with an annoyed expression.

“Fine? Got what you wanted?”

“Eren!” you utter, stomping your foot to the ground.

You don’t realise at first -yet it doesn’t slip Eren- but the gun is quaking in your hand. With your trembling hand mere inches before him, it’s hard not to notice in the end, but he spares you of the embarassment for a second, he focuses on how to get himself out of this situation first.

“Sorry, babe.” Eren smiles at you, using his feet to flip himself off of the ground, pushing his weight onto his torse for his feet to levitate off the ground. Shook and thrown off by his sudden act, the gun in your hand slips and you squeal, yur grip on Zeke unfocusing as your powers dictate Eren to come to an halt midair. His body thrashes down to the ground, grunts of agony coming out of his chest.

It happens before you even have a chance to blink; your powers are weakened, Eren screams an ear piercing screech and Zeke starts running towards your direction. Multiple bangs echo through the air and you don’t even have a chance to look up to pinpoint where their source lays, your neck is looped on the inside of an elbow but at this point all you can see is black and white as your ears ring dangerously.

“Zeke! Let her go!” Eren screams, his eyes pacing between Zeke and the new additions to the scene, Flotch and Yelena. They both point their guns to Zeke’s direction, panting and Eren is panting as well, his mouth running miles ahead of his brain. He knows he’s in a sticky situation, left unarmed hen Zeke has managed to grab the gun you dropped, shot on the left bicept, but it’s nothing compared to you

Thick crimson fell in gushes from your head, sipping slightly to the cavity at the edge of your mouth, rushing down the painful path to your neck. Your costume seeped in it, the cloth furiously sipping like a hungry vampire as more blood run over it. Eren didn't dare move his hands, only his real orbs paced between his team members, remaining wide open, despairate to light up in any frail solution he could think of.

"If I let her go, you'll let me take my leave."

Eren's brain throbbed, the coiling cavities swelling and shrinking. He examined the possibilities and went over his options like a madman, there were a few ways in which he could entrust Zeke's extermination to Yelena and Flotch, he could even manage to grab you in the midst of it and bring you to safety. The bullet Zeke has shot towards you hadn't planted its way into your head, it had only scratched over the surface, he should be able to stop the bleeding if he could manage to bring you to safety.

If he was completely honest, he could have numerous opportunies to kill Zeke, he couldn't bring you back though in any case you died.

"Fine." He said, throwing his hands up in defeat. "Get it your way."

"No funny games brother."

With a piercing look thrown at Yelena, Eren leaped a step towards Zeke. The blonde and the redhead lowered their guns pointing their cranes to the cobblestone ground. Eren's iron enhanced footsteps filled the teeny alleyway but they came to an halt as soon as they began. Zeke brought a hand to his nose, pinching the tip slightly despite the fact that his glasses had been shattered to pieces his digits still went for his habitual action of fixing them on his diaphragm.

When Zeke's footing dug into the ground, the material screeching from the intense friction Eren widened his eyes. With your head in his palm he rushed into the wall, blood drenched (h/c) tresses sticking onto his tan skin. With a huge thud he smashed your head against the wall, a roar blurting its way out of the depths of his chest. Then, his feet made the best out of their existence, running as fast as they could, if these were his last moments, at least he caused some mayhem and pain to live up to his reputation.

Eren didn't even have a chance to jump into the commotion in time yet he leaped on your side with your name falling out of his lips in the form of a scream. With no need to be commanded to Yelena and Flotch raised their guns at Zeke, shooting while launching on his direction, leaving Eren and your unconscious body behind.

...

"There's no hope for us right?"

You were dying.

Sprawled over a gray cement built rooftop that paid homage to Trost's biggest neon sign you were taking your last few breaths. And Eren was the only one to blame.

You laid rested on his lap, his hand frozen over the roots of your hair as he felt how tangled they felt with all the dried blood on them. Electric blue neon light fell over his shoulders in the mellowest way, creating a halo over his body, his messy hair and all of its stray strands sticking out as the contrasted the light.

"I'm sorry I brought you here at a moment like this. But since you always said you wanted us to hang out here"

Eren paused to sniffle the little goo at the tip of his nose. A burning sensation in his chest chocked him, it crushed his lungs under an iron grip, the splash of blood and flesh echoing inside his torso. His stomach fell and repositioned itself, his gut churned, his eyes solidified pain in the form of hot, salty tears.

"I couldn't think of anything else."

There wasn't any hope for you. Your skull was cracked open beyond saving, your forehead was jabbed and crushed, your eye bloody and scarlet where bright white should have been. Your nose was broken and crooked. It was only a matter of sorrowful moments before life left your body but Eren couldn't bring himself to help you into descenting faster into the light.

"You probably can't even listen to me. But I love you, always did, always will. I never meant what I said that night. About not knowing why I was with you."

Tears ran down his face, his chest quacking in endless sobs that he tried to muffle. But he couldn't help it, despite having grown into a silent nonchalant adult, he still couldn't push past the hurt if losing someone that close to him. Whatever facade he had ever tried to put on himself was crumbling down in seconds before you, right in this very moment.

"Levi's on his way to take you to a hospital." He announced, yet he doubted you could listen. His hands wiped furiously at his stinging and painful tears. The drops of blood that entered his eyes made him hiss even further.

A bloody palm came to cup under your jaw, and Eren hissed as he felt the bone going stiff. He refused to believe it, he refused to believe your mouth had locked, he refused to believe it was happening. For all that matters he didn't want this to be your last shared moment.

From afar he could see Levi and his former friends approaching, the sound of sirens complimenting the background as the neon sign started buzzing and flickering behind him. When Levi finally stepped his foot to your direction he spoke no word, much like the rest of the team, except for Mikasa who shot him a comforting glare and a pat on the forearm.

Eren watches as Levi checked for your pulse and took you over his back, your body laying numb over his own. He spoke no words as he watched the man pull away and roam between buildings before disappearing. As the neon sign behind him made a chirpy, electronic voice and spurt a few sparks of quickly dissolving fire three more hands came to rest on his shoulders. Jean, Connie and Sasha had all silently tried to seek for a way to comfort him, confiding into mimicking Mikasa. 

 Eren knew he wouldn't ever have the chance to see you illuminated by the cobalt neon light again.

Taglist: @levisbrat25 @nobody-knows-anymore @callmepromise @melancholicmonologue @ladyofpandemonium @alrightberries

Super special thanks to my baby @sasageyowrites and my dear @aichiin (if you don’t check out her art i will be mad!)

[miruko-will-fight-god]

Class 1A x Immortal reader

Warnings: death, Reader death (But revival), talks of pain

Reader info:

Quirk: Complete Restoration (This quirk allows the reader to completely heal from any injury, even allowing them to regrow organs and limbs)

A/N: I swear this isn’t angst, tbh I dont even know what to call this since it isnt fluff, crack, or angst enjoy anyway tho (Also Mineta is replaced with Shinso but that shouldn’t really be a problem lol)

You walked into the room of class 2-A greeted by the faces of your new classmates and Eraser Head, who you had met a few days prior, was lying on the floor wrapped up in his blindingly yellow sleeping bag. You walked through the door, the exhausted teacher sluggishly sitting up. “Alright, introduce yourself quickly, we have things to do afterwards” he grumbles before slouching back down.

 You stepped beside the podium, reciting your rehearsed introduction from memory “Hello, I’m [Y/N] [L/N], I’m a new transfer from [Country]. I look forward to getting to know you all!” You finished, looking over towards Aizawa who was now standing, only half covered in his sleeping bag. “Alright,” he said, “now that that's over with, everyone get suited up and meet me at ground gamma.” 

You followed the rest of the class towards the lockers to change into your costumes Your costume was simple, it consisted of a simple black full bodysuit that had two large pockets running down the outer sides of your legs containing rope for restraining, and some combat boots. Since your quirk didn’t give you any offensive properties, your weapon of choice was a scythe, which was quite noticeable as you paraded out of the locker room with it.

 You, Ahisdo, Shinso and Midoriya were the first ones out of the locker rooms. You stood in awe of the massive industrial training grounds, as Ashido and Midoriya tried to convince you to tell them what your quirk is and Shinso looked like he was planning. As the rest of the class gathered up, you were greeted by your grumpy homeroom teacher and the frail form of all might. When all of you had arrived, All might began to brief you all on the exercise. “Today the battle will be a free for all, The border will be marked by a large red line that will shrink every minute, get pushed out of the border and you’re out, become immobilized, you’re out. Someone will win when they’re the last person standing within the border. We’ll give a 45 second grace period, for you all to get into a position, just make sure that you stay within the border.” He finished explaining. “Does everyone got it?” he asked, eliciting varying ‘yeses’ from you and your classmates. Before the class was told to begin Aizawa added something on. “One more thing, [L/N] and Shinso” your features became riddled with confusion. “As you most likely guessed this test will be an evaluation of you skills. And if I feel like your lacking what it takes to remain in this class, I will expel you.” You jumped at the notion of expelling while Shinso only narrowed his eyes,  you knew that Eraserhead has expelled entire classes of students before, you were no exception to this.

You calmed your nerves just as the pair gave the signal for the grace period to start. All of you ran in, some moving faster than others due to their quirks. An overly loud horn blew throughout the arena just as you reached a safe area near the edge of the border.

‘I guess that was the signal’ you thought, starting to come up with a plan

You knew that you had the benefit of them not knowing your quirk, you were told of them and their quirks and you remember seeing them in the sports festival from last year. So your best bet would be sneak attacks and to knock people out of the border since you only had a limited amount of rope, you figured the stronger and more ballsy of your peers would be near the center, so the majority would be around the outskirts like you.

You were taken out of your thoughts by tape narrowly avoiding your face. You towards your right, to find the person of origin perched on top of a pipe. You readied your weapon in front of you, The memory of the sports festival last year coming back to you. The grip you kept on your weapon tightened as you ran towards Sero, dogging and cutting tape as it was shot as you. Once you were close enough to the pipe you jumped up, hitching your scythe into a vertical pipe adjacent to where you were jumping using the momentum to pull yourself up. As your feet landed on the metal with a soft thud, you pulled your weapon out, grasping it with both hands.

Without hesitation you run towards your current opponent, making your way between the two streams of tape he shot at you. Once he was within range of your weapon, turning the blade around so he was hit with the heel of your scythe. You watched as he fell off of the pole landing on his butt. Before he had a chance to get up or even register the slight pain in his tailbone, the large red line marking the perimeter began to move inward, leaving him outside the line. You slightly felt bad but remembered that there was still a challenge going on. However you knew you were definitely going to be apologizing.

Your next destination was closer to the center of the arena. While it was still fairly early in the game, you had no doubt that quite a few people were out. After a while navigating, only accompanied by the sound of your footsteps and the sound of fights off in the distance. Before you knew it you reached what you assumed was the center. Primarily due to the fact that the area seemed more cleared out compared to other places in the structure. The area seemed almost under ground due to the lack of pipes at the bottom but random pipes acting similar to a roof only letting stray beams of light worming their way to the ground. Within the large cleared out area three people stood the arena. Three who you recognized from their files Izuku Midoriya, Katsuki Bakugou, and Hitoshi Shinso.

You remembered them specifically since one only transferred to the hero course this year, and the other two were fairly powerful. From where you stood you noticed a few other people, their either eyes trained on the scene in front of them waiting for an opportune moment to take one of them out or fighting someone else. The boys were currently engaged in a three-way battle trying their best to keep each other at bay while also trying to keep each other down. 

The boy in the green seemed to have a slight advantage since he seemed more skilled in close ranged hand-to-hand combat than the others. The blonde was stuck primarily on defense and the purple haired boy seemed to have a decent balance between defense and offense. You remembered Aizawa’s words, the threat of expulsion still slightly terrifying you. You took a deep breath and formulated a plan.

 As the battle continued you scaled your way up the pipes avoiding the other spectators. You eventually made you way to the end of a pipe that led directly over the battle- well as direct as you could be considering how much they moved around. You did your best to stay as quiet as possible as your made your way across the pipe until something caught your eye. Quite a bit ahead of you, the pipe got unstable due to it missing quite a few screws. It was unstable enough that probably if you applied enough pressure the pipe would collapse causing a domino effect to the few pipes below it. You knew if you spent anymore time thinking it over you would psych yourself out of it.

 You got a running start and jumped onto the pip fell with it  was everything collapsed. The trio below you saw and each to appropriate actions to save themselves. Bakugou jumping back using the force of explosions to power himself back. Shinso using his capture weapon to move larger pieces of debris out of his way. Deku jumping off of the falling rubble to make sure none of it fell on himself.

That portion of the Arena was covered in a layer of dust causing everyone to cough. As the dust started to settle, letting everyone open their eyes and get fresh breaths of air into their lungs, that's when they noticed it. You were dead…? You laid on top of the rubble, only small pieces laying on top of you. There was quite a noticeable head wound, and a hole in your stomach. Almost like a piece of metal had passed clean through you.

No one dared to move, the sight of a dead body causing some of them gag, trying to keep the bile in their stomachs. No one’s eyes dared to stay fixated on anything your body, like if they looked away you would really be dead. The most stoic of your classmates were unable to keep their unwavering facades together. Everyone's thoughts were interrupted by a sudden yelling from the pile of  wreckage “THAT HURT LIKE A BITCH!” You yelled, sitting up unaware of the state of your classmates. Tears started to flow as some of them finally gained the courage to run up to you bombarding you with questions. 

You chuckled at the familiar questions of “what?” “how?” “weren’t you dead?” Aizawa looked through the screen, a shock that was unknown to his colleague riddled his mind. He knew what your quirk was, but he didn’t know it was to that extent. He had seen healing quirks at work before, but he had never seen someone just come back to life like that. Aizawa ended the training session early giving you his logical ruse spiel while also reprimanding you for being that reckless.

Soon enough lunch rolled around, and you sat with a large group of one 1-A students ending up next to the green haired boy from earlier. As soon as you sat down you were bombarded with questions before you chuckled. “I can’t answer all your questions at once, one at a time please.” Midoriya asked his questions first which were basically all the practical ones. 

“What is your quirk?”

“It’s called complete restoration, I’m just able to heal any injury on myself, including ones that are fatal.”

“So you’re immortal?”

“Pretty Much.” you answered curtly, continuing to stuff your face. 

“Do you feel pain?” a red head asked sheepishly. “Not in the slightest! But I can tell when I get hurt, it’s like some sort of sixth sense. And “dying” is practically just waking up from that weird falling feeling ” You shrugged. “But it makes it really fun to jump off of buildings and stuff!” you finished giggling. Your classmates looked at you with a mix of awe and disbelief, continuing to ask questions throughout the lunch period.

[loki-fanfic-whore]

Falling From Olympus ch.2

Warnings- noncon situations. Teasing

@drakesfiance @kybaeza

Chapter 2 Incite

Loki followed you back into the palace and smirked as you became utterly lost. He followed silently behind as you turned this way and that way, down this corridor and back down another.

He would never admit this to you, but he had no intentions of giving you back. You were too new and exotic and things were painfully droll in Asgard at the moment.

After he had had his fun and you were frustrated almost to tears he appeared beside you to offer his help. You had wondered into a corridor near the diplomats living quarters and the war room.

"Would you enjoy some company from someone who is seasoned in the layout of this castle, princess? " we purred out the word princess. If 'Zeus' was your father and was indeed a king of gods, like Odin, than that made you a princess by all respects. It also made you an eligible bachelorette for him to sink his teeth into.

"Loki! How long have you watched me and yet only now that I am frustrated you offer help?" You chide him immediately calling him out.

"I did no such thing madame. I simply found you aimlessly wandering near our war room. If I didn't know any better, I'd say you came here on purpose to learn our secrets as a spy!" Loki lied effortlessly and goaded you, laying a trap.

"I have no need for war, Loki. I am a goddess of Spring and Vegetation. What could I possibly need for war?"

"Perhaps it isn't for you, perhaps you want to take this information back to your momma." His voice dripped with fake accusatory tones.

"My mother is the goddess of harvest and law. A virtuous and fertile goddess, She would have no need for war as well Loki. Enough of this foolish quandary. Please take me back to my room. I feel dizzy from the air here." You were a little pale in the face and could feel a slight sheen of sweat on your skin. The air felt stifling hot.

Loki snickered and held up his hands in defense.

"You caught me. I was only trying to goad you-"

"Yes well it didnt work. I-I need to rest. Please re-turn me-" you stuttered the words as you felt a great blackness coming on. Your body going limp you fell towards Loki, your face connecting against his chest. He sighed gently and lifted your frame. Cuddling you to him as he walked across the palace to your quarters.

"Dear gods for a tiny creature you are heavy!" He teased you even when you could not hear. You were plunged into a vision

"I Will Kill All The Land If I Do Not Get My Daughter Back." It was Demeter, with her golden hair tied up in messy curls around her acorn face. She was naturally beautiful, and even though she was virtuous, she was cold hearted. A shiver ran down your spine as you watched the other gods at the table murmur amongst themselves.

"Demeter, we haven't seen her. She was here last night, but must have run away. Perhaps she found a mortal to love and thought tou wouldnt agree?" Hermes offered as a consolation idea. You shuddered at the glare Demeter gave him, her finger tips wrapping on the table loudly.

"A mortal?! A MORTAL?! You think My daughter has stupidly run after a mortal?!" She placed a hand to her forehead and looked down at her lap.

"I was simply offering a possible explanation, I am not saying it is true." Hermes countered, but Demeter would have none of it. She was now fixated on this possibility.

"A drought." She snapped her head up from her lap to stare them all in the eyes.

"I swear by my mother, Rhea, that I will drought and freeze the land until she is found!" A soft gasp was heard around the table.

"Demeter the mortals will die without your prosperity." Hera spoke gently trying to persuade her to see the logic.

"I do not care if mortals die! I care about my daughter! She is all I have!" Demeter then broke down into tears and ran from the table. You watched as earth began to become cold. The leaves dried and turned brown falling from the trees. Even though it hadn't hurt the mortals yet. You feared that soon it would lead to the demise of many.

You Had To Get Home.

"Princess?" Loki spoke gently as he laid you down on your bed. A soft moan left your lips but you were still incapacitated to the fullest extent. Loki took a step back and watched as you shivered, obviously chilled, but yet you had a sheen of sweat upon your skin. You had a fever.

He quickly covered you in a thin cotton sheet and had a maid fetch a small bowl of water and a cloth. He dipped the cloth in the cool water and gently, so gently he trembled, began to wash your face and neck in an attempt to cool you down. He studied your features in awe, as a sculptor would admire his work, his finger tips gently grazing your skin every now and again. He marveled at how perfect your face was, even though it was not fully mirrored in symmetry, it was still absolutely stunning.

You moaned again but still you kept your eyes closed. Loki moved down to your shoulders and chest. Even though he was the God of tricks and mischief he was careful not to touch you in any lewd way. Only stealing grazes of your skin against his finger tips here and there. He gently wiped down your arms and hands before he stood. You had stopped shivering, but your skin was covered in goosebumps; probably from the cool water and his gently touches.

"Fetch me a fruit." He called to the maid handing the bowl off.

"What would you prefer my prince?" The maid asked sweetly curtsied at his feet.

"I dont care. Just bring me a fruit." Loki repeated coldly.

"As the goddess of spring, surely you eat your laborious fruit." He teased your lithe unconcious body.

The maid returned with a peach and handed the fruit to him. He dismissed the maid then walked to the bed sitting next to you. He couldn't force the peach into your mouth for fear you'd wake and choke, but he could give you the juices. He gently bit into the peach and felt the juice overflowing I'm his mouth. A grin formed across his lips as a plan began to take shape in his head. He leaned down and cupped your chin; with a slight tug with his thumb, you opened your mouth and he connected his briefly to allow some of the juice to spill into you. It was the most chaste kiss he had ever given had yet he was blushing furiously as his heart lept through his chest for it was beating so fast. He immediately sat up and grinned as you drank the juice greedily, another moan escaping, this moan longer and more needy.

"Princess? It's time to wake up." He spoke breathlessly trying to calm down. He felt absolutely giddy from what he had just accomplished undetected; laughing softly to himself as he finished eating the piece of fruit in his mouth. His eyes trained on you. Once the peach was gone he placed the seed in one of your hands and watched intently. You subconsciously closed your hand around it and a small green vine grew between your fingers. It was tiny and unable to show distinctive features, but it was still impressive to Loki that even in your unconcious state you could will things to grow.

Groaning out your eyes opened and you assessed where you were.

"Oh good. You are alive." Loki teased as he sat on the foot of the bed watching you.

You sat up and tried to put your hand to your head, but felt the peach seed. Looking down you became utterly confused.

"Loki were you playing a trick on me while I was inert?" You spoke in a harsh tone but your eyes betrayed you as you smiled at the peach plant, barely a sapling growing in your hands.

"It wasnt a trick. I was trying to wake you. I gave you a bit of the juice then handed you the seed. You inadvertently began to help it grow." He explained watching you in secret awe as you blew onto the leaves causing the tree to twist upward growing larger.

" Please...plant this tonight. It will grow to bare fruit by morning." You smiled handing the sapling to him. He called for a maid and handed the delicate plant off explaining your suggestion.

"Now then, princess, while that is done and out of the way. Can you tell me why you fainted?" Loki paced slowly about the room. You stayed in bed simply watching him pace.

"I didnt faint. I had a vision. My body just become incapacitated because my mind is elsewhere... I watched as momma threatened every mortal with death if she did not get me back. I watched as the leaves of beautiful trees turned brown and the trees shivered the deadness off. They were bare and barren...and it scares me....the trees are always meant to bare fruit and shade...without it the mortals will surely perish." You subconsciously bit your bottom lip as you began to worry. Loki had to dart his eyes away at the sight of your pink lips, once again sticky with juice being bitten. Images of him biting and sucking them flooded his mind and he felt himself twitch in his trousers.

"Maybe you should rest. I can have your meal sent here. We can reconvene tomorrow morning and form a plan to return you to Demeter." He redirected knowing he needed a rest much more than you. You nodded and settled back against the pillows. He moved to the door way.

"Good night princess." He called softly, his back to you. He was hiding the fact his eyes were dark with lust and his heart had begun to furiously beat against his chest again.

"Good night...and thank you Loki." You spoke as he closed your door. Loki moved swiftly to his room as he mumbled.

"Dont thank me yet, my pet." He needed to rut into something roughly to force the images of you from his mind. He called for a maid. He would satisfy his every will tonight.

[kamari333]

What are the EMV skeletons' kinks?

Are you really asking me, in the year 2019 of our lord, to write out a list of sexual preferences for 14 fictitious skeleton monsters??

...because buddy chum friend pal I will DELIVER

...the first 9. I don’t know enough about the others to give a proper run down but I hope you likes this. Remind me to break down the others later.

Warning, this is both explicit and a bit disorganized.

^_^

Comic is into stuff that doesn’t require him to move all that much, but he slowly realizes he has a bit of a clothes fetish. Socks... lingerie... uniforms... he likes looking at his partner and appreciating how good they look. He also has a thing for his partner wearing his clothes, and wearing his partners in turn. He is honestly pretty vanilla otherwise (if you dont count the hand thing). He also likes public displays of affection.

Blue largely just likes being touched, and appreciated, the slower and more sensual the better. He might have a hand kink now too (thanks comic you pervert). But he also has a Roleplay kink. He especially likes taking on roles of high esteme or reverence, like Doctor or Pharaoh or Father (the religious kind not the parent). Its not about power for him, its about respect and recognition. He wants to be told he did a good job in the end. Sometimes he likes some really wacky roles though, like a giant squid or a tall building or a shiny bauble that is being admired or revered. If he can make his partner laugh in the process that just turns him on more because laughter is a big kink now too.

As you could probably guess, a game of D&D would probably be one big ass stint of foreplay for these two, especially if Blue went all out with a costume. As such, they aren’t allowed to sit next to each other on game nights because there is a risk of them starting a makeout session mid-game.

Stretch is into smoke play. And choking. And shower sex. He also really likes getting high or drunk or drugged and being "taken advantage of" by his partner (he puts a lot of faith in his mate ok he trusts pretty hard). He likes doing the choking too. And he likes pinning them down and degrading them. He also has a big scars kink and likes to lick and bite them (maybe leave a few of his own if they dont mind). Likes to take possession and play master for a bit, but thats left behind in the bedroom (despite almost never actually using a bedroom). He has an oral fixation.

Slim likes to tease, and taunt, and rile his partner up. He likes watching his partner go from zero to eighty as quickly as possible. He likes smoke play too, and choking, and public play. He’s into service and doesn’t mind being used like a toy. If he’s put into the position of the top he’s gonna get off making his partner come over and over and over, until he wears himself out and curls up around them. He’s a masochist, but thanks to his shitty fell type universe he’s super hesitant to trust anyone enough to indulge in that until they prove their loyalty. But once he’s comfortable he likes knife play and cigarette burns and anything except pain with his jaw or teeth. Although tongues and kisses and things that need licked are welcome. he is always up for some food play too.

These two are honestly a hot mess but there is some deep trust between them at the end of the day. Nobody can say they don’t wanna do their best for the other.

Lust is down with nearly anything, as long as he and his partner love each other. Its easier to list his No’s than his kinks. He definitely leans more towards being a sub but he occasionally gets a craving to dom, and when he does he wants to drive his partner crazy and watch them fall apart at the seams until they pass out under (or on top of) him. As a sub, Lust is especially partial to impact play, praise, degradation, multiple penetration, overstim, choking, rough sex in general, knife play, and sounding. He likes being filled and he likes being used. He likes being told he was good or bad so long as he knows its coming out of love. He wants to feel his partners hands, tongue, teeth (especially teeth, he loves being bitten~), anything on him hours later and he wants to show off to anyone he comes across. He’s big into exhibition. PDA. And commitment: a major turn on is his partner acting or looking domestic in any capacity. He has a voice kink. He likes being held. And being told or shown he’s loved or wanted. Its honestly not hard to turn him on.

Red’s biggest kink is praise. He lives to hear he did good. Hell, just being asked to do something by his partner is enough to fluster him. In pavlovic fashion, he developed a specific noise kink (jingle jingle bitch) because the very idea of his partner being aroused or happy or loved or taken care of is intoxicating to him. He loves to obey provide for his partner like a proper master. He loves to serve take care of his partner. He loves to be a comfort. He is the subbiest fucking sub to ever sub but he associates all these things with domination and being the dom in the relationship. He enjoys kissing and licking and biting his partner, but only if they like it when he does so. He loves it when his hands can bring his partner to orgasm. He gets off making his partner come, making them scream and shake with how good it feels (how good he is doing). He would never admit it even to himself but he likes being blindfolded and tied up and pet. He is weak for kisses, and petting, and gentle affection. And if his partner gives him head, them swallowing is a big turn on too. But even if it isn’t his kink, Red is willing to do just about anything (even if it should be a hard no for him, like pain play) for his partner, and he’ll probably find pleasure in it because he’s doing it for them and that is the biggest rush of all.

Dance is into control. He wants that high of knowing exactly how all the pieces fit, orchestrating every last detail and coming to the exact end result he was aiming for. Every scene must be a well planned rube goldburg machine. His partner moves when he says they can move, they scream when he says they can scream, they come when he says they can come. Dance wants full responsibility for every little detail in that room and he wants the satisfaction of knowing he made it a good experience for his partner, that he made them happy, that he made them come. Dance wants the power, and it drives him crazy when his partner obeys, when they like what he makes happen. The more unruly or powerful he perceives his partner to be, the more satisfaction Dance gets when they submit to his will. Dance is also a sadist, especially liking bondage, impact play, temperature play, edging, overstim, and asphyxiation. He isn’t into degradation, preferring positive reinforcement. On a related note, while he enjoys punishments as much as rewards, Dance prefers not to use pain as a punishment. He’ll use it to get his submissive’s attention, or just to keep them occupied while he talks, but not as an actual punishment (unless his submissive chooses it for themselves). On the few rare occasions he gives up his control, he likes feeling safe and warm and protected, being held, especially by someone he perceives as powerful. He has a secret masochistic streak and likes being bitten or scratched by his partner, either while trusting them to care for him or while he’s making them submit to his will. Dance also has a scent kink. He likes wearing his partners clothes because it smells like them. And he has a taste kink. He loves sucking his partner dry and having their flavor in the back of this throat hours later. The taste of watermelon and grape without any other context are now turn ons for him. He shares that domestic kink with Lust. He also has a thing for somno, for being trusted to take full control like that. Being the jealous type, and in direct opposition to his shy nature, Dance gets a visceral satisfaction from showing off in public to others that his submissive is his, although whether or not this is a kink or just an extention of his performer’s nature is up in the air.

These fucking dumpster fire boys fit so goddamn well together jfc. I just. I love them. So much. Look at how thise pieces fit. I love them.

Suave is a performer at heart. He wants to be admired. So a big thing for him is getting the opportunity to perform. He likes dancing and strip teases and being able to get his partner’s attention. He likes being on top. He likes touching his partner’s erogenous zones. He likes making his partner scream and shake and come, likes when he has proof that he is the one that they are deriving pleasure from. He eventually develops a scars kink for no particular reason. He has a uniform kink and likes a powerful partner with demanding tastes who still prefers him to anyone else. He wants that rush of being wanted. He likes seeing his partner get flustered. He especially enjoys when either the sight or sound of him is what turns his partner on without any physical stimulation, likes seeing them squirm, unable or unwilling to touch themselves but clearly wanting to be touched because he is just that damn alluring. He has an edging kink.

Razz likes being served. He likes when his partner does things for him. He likes being given a show and he likes being worshiped. Razz especially likes hearing his partner’s voice, no matter how much he might tell them to shut the hell up. He likes gentle touches and he likes being held safe by his partner. He has a thing for big tall handsome people. He also likes making his partner scream and come, likes to command them to come while he watches them masturbate, or ride his dick, or rut against his fingers or a toy he is holding. He likes it even more if they beg for his help to finish. He is into bondage, especially shibari both giving and receiving. He likes oral both giving and receiving. He is weak for massages and praise, especially when he’s called a title of command. He is partial to “master”.

God these two are fucking amazing too jfc look at them.

[starfaring-princelotor]

Um ah you dont have to do this but a fix where the reader has a fixation over lotors voice. Idk how this would actually come up in a conversation with him. (He'd probably over hear the conversation ) -On a side note that man has the most magnificent voice i would ever wish to hear.

Dear anon, thank you for such lovely compliments in regards to my voice. I hope when you read this, you can hear my baritone words tickling your ears. I regret to inform you that this piece of fiction came out to be more fluffy than expected. If you were expecting smut, I apologize in advance.

Originally posted by fudayk

Thunder

Pairings: Lotor x Reader

★ Disclaimer: I do not ship Lotura and I respectfully ask that this story to not be tagged as Lotura. This is a Lotor x Reader/Self-Insert OC story which is in no way related to Allura at all. Please be respectful of my chosen pairing.  ★

Prince Lotor was like thunder, in every sense except literal. The commander was firm in his actions, resolute that his plans, his ideas, his orders, would be followed with little to no resistance. At least, that’s how it has always been on his ship. No one disobeyed or argued against him or voiced their disagreements. There were two reasons you noticed why: one, those that questioned him have often gone missing. And two? His voice did not waver in the slightest.

Perhaps, that was why you were scared of him. You were good at your job post, yes, but that didn’t mean you did not feel a trickle of fear when he stepped by you or sat on his command seat to overlook the deck. Was fear even the right word? You respected him, like any other crew member. Trusted him to overlook your safety as well as his own. Maybe the reason why you were truly scared of him was because he was the physical embodiment of your biggest childhood fear: the sound of rolling thunder.

Yet, there was a thrill when Prince Lotor spoke, like seeing an oncoming storm. His eyes flashed lightning, his voice warned of the approaching thunder. It both excited and scared you. Perhaps, you can even say…it aroused you to an extent. Such conflicting emotions did not go unnoticed by the Prince, however, and maybe it was out of pure curiosity that lured him to follow you around. Discreetly, of course.

At first, he started humming. You could hear him from across the hallway wherever you turned. It gave you shivers up and down your spine, but your ears, oh, they adored the sound. The tune reverberated so wonderfully, it made you waver in your steps. It even made you hitch your breath in odd anticipation. Lotor’s voice was like a haunting melody following your every move, from the moment you awoke to the time you slept.

Next, came the direct orders. Normally, there was a chain of command for the grunts. It’d usually be Acxa speaking to your supervisor, then your supervisor passing down the demands. But the gracious Prince Lotor has sought you out personally lately. You would stand stock still, straight up like a true soldier, and feel your heart’s pace quicken in your chest. Much to Lotor’s amusement, he would see your eyes flick quickly to his lips, those lips caging his deep, baritone voice.

“Soldier, what is the status of the damage done in sector 88-E?” his voice held no inflection of his real intentions, but that didn’t stop him from noticing your lower lip quiver just a bit.

“Sire,” you cleared your throat, trying to dislodge that nervousness stuck in there, “T-The sector will be repaired within the next hour. There were no casualties from the attack.”

“Very good. That will be all. Return to your post.”

You gulped and let out a shaky sigh. How the bloody hell would you ever get over this…this…fixation? Eventually, this problem began showing up in your work performance. Simply put, you had a hard time sleeping, for every time you shut your eyes, you could hear his alluring voice. It kept you up until the late hours of night and plagued your dreams in the best of ways. It was…unhealthy.

That’s how you found your exhausted self set on auto-pilot. There was always something that needed fixing in this ship, so you occupied your time with repairing and checking systems. A tweak here, adjustments there. It was mind numbing, but very welcome in comparison to a certain Prince’s voice. However, the silence would not last forever, and quite soon you heard the tell-tale signs of that cursed humming. You swayed slightly when the bane of your existence turned a corner, those footsteps only adding to his ominous approach.

“Soldier, what ever are you doing up so late? You should be in the barracks with the rest,” he asked flippantly, though if you strained your ears, perhaps you could have heard the pinch of concern.

But yes, he did take note of your tired appearance. Heavy eyes, slouching form, sluggish movement. No, certainly this would not do. His soldiers must be in tip-top form, regardless of how amusing it was to watch you squirm when he so much as whispered a single word. You didn’t know this, but he could hear your heartbeat quicken. He could even…smell the arousal between your legs. It was fun toying with you for the time being.

He was a captain above all, so if his crew had a problem, he would help in any way he could.

“My apologies, your…majesty,” you yawned, a hand coming up to cover your mouth, “I’ve been having difficulty staying asleep. I figured that some work could help with my problem.”

Lotor stood taller now, gazing down at you and studying every word that left your mouth, “And what is this problem, soldier?”

Now, your eyes widened a smidgen and you stared up at him in hesitancy. Your lips remained shut in a firm line, unsure how to exactly tell him that the problem was literally standing in front of you. A few seconds of silence filled the void while Prince Lotor waited patiently for your answer and you know if you didn’t give him one soon, you would be demoted…or worse. Sent away.

“Speak.”

“I-ah, I’m afraid of…” you flushed in shame, eyes flicking down to stare at his chest plate, “…Thunder. Sire.”

He raised an elegant brow, demanding you expand a bit more. Yes, he knew you had a fascination with his voice. Though, he had not realized it affected you so deeply. Lotor saw you swallow in anxiousness, but he had a gut feeling that you weren’t nervous because of his commanding status. You were nervous of him pulling out these confession from you. This admittance of yours was not the norm among his soldier’s gossip. This was a struggle you deemed fit to handle alone. A common mistake.

You worried your bottom lip, shoulders hunching slightly as if to shrink into yourself, “And you do have a…forgive my rudeness, but your voice is thunderous at times. I am a little afraid of it.”

You decided to keep the part about being turned on out of that confession.

“Hmm, that will certainly not do,” he folded his hands behind his back, “Come with me, soldier.”

Fuck, he was going to send you off. That shame built up tenfold and you silently followed him, feeling the strong urge to just cry. This was your post, your home now. You almost wanted to beg him not to relocate you. Drop to your knees and plead. When you looked up, your captain was…sitting on the floor? Against the wall? You blinked owlishly in confusion, the scene actually made you think you were dreaming. Or delusional.

“Come here, soldier,” he ordered again, but this time he patted his chest, “I will not harm you. I believe this can help with soothing your fears.”

You did as you were told, moving to sit besides him with your legs splayed out in front of you. His were…so much longer, admittedly. Lotor cleared his throat, getting your attention as he waited in expectation. Right. His chest. You shifted awkwardly and laid your head on him, a little cautious just in case you would anger him with how close you were to your commanding officer. Nothing of the sort happened, but you did feel a large hand come up to hold your shoulder as a way to steel you against him.

And then, he started humming. Low enough that not only could you hear the thunder rolling over your ears, but you could also FEEL it vibrate through his chest plate. The rumble made you instantly tense and Prince Lotor noticed almost immediately. He started casually rubbing his hand up and down the length of your arm in hopes to calm you down from your rising anxiety. It did help that he was also so very warm to lean against, so warm like a bonfire in the deepest corners of space.

“Fret not, for I shall not hurt you,” Lotor spoke in a rare, gentle tone, one you didn’t think a man with such a voice was capable of, “Rest now, soldier. Let the thunder guide you to a land of pleasant dreams. Let my song calm the fears in your soft heart, let me chase away the dark clouds forming in your mind. Permit me your soul, so that I may share my voice for your protection.”

Prince Lotor peered down at you and felt a small ounce of pride swell in his chest when he saw you already deep in slumber.

[doggbonezz]

i know that i am a bad person. I don’t want to be, but i’m manipulative and just all around awful a lot of the time. I’m really grateful for all the people i know and the fact that some people even care about me despite how i am makes me both really happy and really scared. Because i’m really good at hurting people. I don’t mean to. it’s a mix of self-sabotage and just my lack of ability to interact but i am just such an attention seeker which wouldn’t be that awful because most people tend to be to some extent, but my really bad habit is a lot of guilting people into being friends with me. 

“oh woe is me look at all these bad things i have to deal with please comfort me so i feel like im not alone” IT”S REALLY BAD BECAUSE ALL IT DOES IS MAKE OTHER PEOPLE FEEL AWFUL. So what if my abandonment issues are kicking my ass? why can’t i just start a conversation like a normal fucking person instead of throwing myself into situations that i know will make me miserable because i crave comfort and i just,, i want someone, pretty much anyone, to just fucking give me a hug and tell me it’s okay, but the only ways i know how to seek comfort are ways that make other people feel bad for me. 

I dont want people to feel like shit every time i’m around them. I don’t want what happened to a friend of mine to happen to me. His mental health issues overwhelmed 2 of my best friends so they just ditched him. I DONT WANT TO BE NEXT. i want to make people happy and i want to be happy and i want to make stupid inside jokes with people and do dumb shit and have people not feel bad for me at every given moment. I really really want to break away from this awful mindset im stuck in mostly because it hurts others, but also because i’m fucking miserable. 

I always feel like im in danger, i kinda am because i dont know what to do with myself if im not so i throw myself into abusive situations because part of me wants to be hurt. I seek out things i know will hurt me all the time, whether it be my triggers, alcohol, and even though i’ve been a lot less successful getting my hands on them, drugs. If i continue like this i am going to die. quite literally. there is no doubt in my mind that i will eventually do something stupid enough to get myself killed. 

I’m to fixated on the past. can’t get my mind off it. I need to get over myself. i really want to stop this but i really don’t know how. I’m not activally suicidal or anything along those lines, but part of me doesn’t know how much longer i can deal with this. part of me hopes it’ll be better once school starts up again because then it will be a lot less time alone with my thoughts, but i know i’ll just end up in a bad place in a different way.

i know apologies are guilt trippy. this whole post is and addmitting this post is makes it worse, and admitting that makes it worse and so on and so on. This is awful. here we are another fucking example of me making the few people who see this feel bad. For y’all, don’t feel fucking bad for me. really don’t. please don’t. im so fucking thankful to you motherfuckers who put up with my bullshit. i really wanna get better and im trying to as best i can.

[paler-than-thou]

this isnt a nasty anon! so glad you have anon back on though just wanted to reassure this wasnt nasty its actually a question sort of because you seem pretty up on metnal stuff. was wondering if you know anything abt how to cope with flashbacks i had a lot of abuse mostly sexual recently and i cant stop thinking about it is there someting wrong with me? my friends dont know and i think im losing them because i keep being so weird about things like words can i do anything about it?

Aaah thank you for the reassurance ^^ I really appreciate the thought! 

Right. First off, let me start off by saying thank you for being so brave and coming to me about this, anon or not - I know even if you don’t know the person and you are completely anonymous it can be a terrifying experience to search out advice/comfort, even from a stranger completely removed from it.

I’m going to put the answer/advice to this under a cut, as it’s long and can potentially be triggery to others, as I’m going to be talking about my own experiences as well.

Firstly, no, there is nothing wrong with you for not being able to stop thinking of it. Going by my own experiences, my abuse (and other things) happened as a child and again about 10 years ago, and while it’s no longer a daily occurrence, I still think about it regularly. It’s always there, sitting under my thoughts, and yes - if I’m having a bad day or something, it can surface. I remember a therapist telling me there is an actual reason for this - the same thing that causes people to remember That One Embarrassing Moment when they try to sleep. It’s the brain taking an instance of danger and replaying it to learn from it and try to work out how to counter it should it happen again - an evolution thing that is deeply unpleasant when it comes to being forced to relive something as horrific as abuse.

You are very much not broken for feeling like you’re fixating on it. Right now, the abuse you suffered is a very fresh wound, the pain new and jagged and so very painful and you don’t know how to deal with it. It’s like if you just broke your leg - the pain is unbearable and any touch makes it worse, and the place where the bone broke will never be the same. You’re going to be fixated on that broken leg until it heals to an ache, a scar and a bump, so why wouldn’t you be fixated on the mental pain? I will tell you that it gets better, it gets easier. The pain will lessen, the wound will scar but it will be healed. The thoughts, if you give yourself the time to heal, will no longer hold the pain they did and they will lessen and grow quieter until you can barely - if at all - hear them, I promise, because they have with me.

What I would strongly advise is that you try to get yourself into therapy of some sort as soon as you can. I’m assuming from how you worded this you haven’t told anyone (besides me) what happened? So right now you feel isolated and alone, like you have a dirty secret you can’t let anyone find out about. Let me reassure you it is not dirty, you have nothing to be ashamed of and you have done nothing wrong. None of this is your fault. The reason I say go to a therapist as early as you can rather than try to tell a friend or family member (as I don’t know your situation) is a therapist is in a position to actively help you, they are bound not to tell anyone anything and you don’t have to unload everything at the first session. You can work up to it, if you feel you need to - you know how much you can deal with and what you’re capable of doing, so don’t push yourself and feel you have to talk about everything immediately. Get yourself into the therapy first, then work on the rest.

The thing with the words and other bits causing you to be weird is what’s known as being ‘triggered’. It’s a phrase that Tumblr and 4chan have ruined, but it’s a very apt one. Anything can trigger a flashback or poke the wound the abuse created, from a sound to a word to a smell, so of course instinctively you’re going to want to avoid the hell out of that trigger - for instance, there’s a very specific sound that can send me into a full-blown flashback that will put me out for days, and this is years later. So I avoid any instances involving that sound. If you are not prepared to tell your friends the full extent as to why you keep having odd reactions to things that you may have been fine with before, that’s fine - just tell them you’re not having a great time mentally and ask if they could be a bit understanding. Of course, it goes without saying that if they’re dicks about it, then they are not a friend.

Unfortunately, when it comes to dealing with triggers and how they cause us to react, there’s no easy answer. This is a few ways I have found work for me, but the best thing I can give you is that trial and error and a lot of therapy is the only way I’ve found these:

Identification: Work out what the trigger is. Was it a word? A sentence? A smell or a visual stimulus? Where did it come from?

Avoidance: Is it something easily avoided? Can you work around it? If so, how? 

There’s no real easy way out of triggers except to give yourself time. There will come a point where you’ll be desensitised to it - one way I dealt with one of mine which was a song was I forced myself to listen to it on repeat until it became meaningless. That, of course, is not something to attempt unless you have the support and the mental ability to deal with it - and I would not recommend it without therapy. 

Lastly, a few words to hopefully help you feel better: You are not alone. You have nothing to be ashamed of. Nothing about any of what happened to you is your fault - it’s the fault of whoever did this to you. You are stronger than you know, more capable than you think and you will get through this. There is so much more to you than what happened, and you will get to the point where this will no longer hurt. You may have scarring - whether mental or physical - but scars are merely signs of the battles and wars we’ve won. You can do this. You have survived, and you will continue to.

And if you fall, if you find yourself in a dark place and that you feel you are failing, remember - we’ve been there too. You are not a failure for it. Just remember there is a way out, there is a lot of places you can turn to - you’ve done it by asking me for help. You will be okay, I promise. It gets better, and it gets easier.

And if you need to, come back and talk to me, on anon or off. Take care, and I hope everything goes alright :)

[lelibug]

It feels like it has been a long time since I knew what it meant to be “me”.

What am I now? Not much, it seems.

Curiosity is lost. I have no desire to read or learn – because I just can no retain any information anymore. I feel exhausted just picking up my Kindle, magazines, or iPad for anything other than fooling around with it. I shouldn’t – and quite frankly, I’m not even sure why.

I am immobile and housebound. Under a required house-arrest because the off-the-rack wheelchair makes me so ill it’s insanity itself to even attempt to sit in it anymore.

My strange neuropathic paraesthesia / (numbed?) Fibromyalgia /  Hemiplegic Migraine thing going on, that no one can actually explain, keeps me prisoner in its claws – I can’t walk, sometimes barely crawl, my fingers don’t work very often, and I can feel so terrible (paraesthesia, spasms, feeling like I’ve been filled with cement, brain-fogged, unable to eat or move) that I simply can do nothing but stare at the TV. Not really watch it, just stare at it.

I am badly overweight and struggling to even move, let alone try to be any kind of active. I do try – a lot. But the windows of opportunities are so sporadic, they don’t really count. So I don’t get to do the things I love(d)much anymore – Pilates, Yoga, dancing. I do them as much as I can when I can, and it’s literally quite the relief to be able to do at least something, no matter what it is. Another part of my past that I can touch occasionally, and feel something that brings great comfort and familiarity. There aren’t many of those left now.

I have so little control over limbs and key muscles. There’s no diaphragm, no pelvic floor, very little use of my right leg at the best of times, and on occasion my right arm too. I can barely feel my tummy except in one space in the very centre. I can’t sing, have to use Gown-up Huggies (or lady-pants, as Tena likes to call them), and I am a slave to the weather and air pressure (check your isobars if you feel really rubbish – I just stop working once it dips below 1020mb, and I fall apart and can black out in 1015mb or less).

Dignity is gone. I quite often have to crawl, or worse, be reduced to attempting to “commando crawl” because my arms and legs dont work properly. I need help to clean myself, shower, brush my hair, change, go to the bathroom on bad days. And the Grown-Up Huggies don’t help, either.

I lost the ability to drive. I can no longer cook. I have a robot I was so excited to make sitting around in parts. I have courses I wanted to learn that have sat around gathering dust, after only managing a small handful of them before falling too ill to carry on. I can no longer go horse riding. The list of books and magazines that keep going unread hurt me deeply. I feel like I live in loss and missed opportunity, and it’s quite frankly heartbreaking.

My memory has gone, particularly STM (Short-Term Memory). The long term memory went a long time ago, and has never really returned. There are people, places, things, occurrences that I have no idea about. Today I forgot how a General Election worked when you went to vote. I’ve been voting since I was 18… I hate to count how many polling stations I’ve been to in the subsequent near two decades hence. I should have known it, but I did not. People tell me things and have conversations with me, and I have no idea ten seconds later that it even occurred, let alone what was said. I’ve given up being disturbed by that – it happens too often now… it’s another unfortunate “new norm”.

The small things can really get you. I feel really put out I can’t now go to the cinema, because I can’t use my chair – I’ve spent ages looking forward to seeing the new Wonder Woman movie for months, and now I can no longer go. I feel awful I cannot cook my own food. I can’t even make my own tea, and the hot water dispenser is actually in my room (because once upon I time I actually could).

My ability to play games is sporadic, and I don’t enjoy it half as much as I should, could or would without this rediculous situation that I find myself in. The same goes with conversing with my friends, almost entirely losing my ability to actually speak to anyone – because it’s contra-indicating my ASD something rotten. I can’t fixate on anything but fear anxiety now – so there is no room for my usual crazy obsession about Mass Effect and Dragon Age. This might break my heart more than anything else.

I keep asking myself “What can I do?”… But there doesn’t seem much on an answer. I can sit… sort of. That causes problems in and of itself. I can stare at the TV… which I hate. Sometimes I can hold a conversation. On rarer occasions it might even be intelligent. I sit here thinking… and I struggle to think of anything more. That does not make me feel very good at all…

    I’m waiting – constantly waiting – for it to “get better”. It doesn’t get better. It never get better.

For some reason, so far it’s only become worse. I really wish it would stop doing that.

Right now, it’s just existing in limbo, waiting to see if a new, proper, chair might allow me to have some semblance of an existence, in being that I get some respite from my incarceration here, get some perspective in going some places where I can take myself along. There’s always hope, and I really do hope to god this time I get some respite from all this by being able to “walk” myself about, to go for a “walk”, to make it to places that I can’t go now. Certainly couldn’t go in that other chair.

I’m trying to do good in waiting for it. Trying to get stronger arms and core. It’s not going too well, because despite it being June, no one told the weather, and the isobars and temperatures are through the floor – and we’re being bombarded by gales, rain, and storms. Fun. So far, for the last two weeks, the isobars haven’t risen above maybe 1010 or 1015mb. Next Tuesday (it’s very early Friday morning right now) it threatens to get to at least 1021mb. Hopefully, this time, it’s telling the truth. The last time, it most certainly was not!

If this weather doesn’t improve neither will I. I will still do as much as I can, but it won’t be the same, because the extent it makes me feel utterly terrible to the point of passing out can render it impossible to do anything. It seems so rediculous to be enslaved by something so rediculous, but there it is.

I hope I shall get some sleep sometime tonight – it’s 4:06am and I feel too wired to be able to sleep. I don’t even know why – if I did, that at least would be a start! I guess as an Aspie, that kind of thing is probably always going to elude me, but I do try my best to work it out. I could be anxious – it’s general election night. Or it could come from the fact that mornings can be harrowing after disturbing dreams/nightmares and being awoken badly in the morning – frankly the last two days have been extremely traumatising (no, I’m not kidding nor over-playing it… more like the opposite), and I do not have it in me to even begin to deal with a third day of such things.

Of course, I might not be anxious. It might be from a lack of being able to expel energy, thus never feeling tired. It’s hard to expel energy when you can’t move. It might be from the “pain” – and by that I mean feeling the intense sensations of Paraesthesia, which may as well be pain. It hurts, I suppose, but in a very different way to before, or what I’ve ever been used to before. So I just call it “pain” because it’s a shorthand that other people can easily understand, more metaphorical than literal.

I think the problem is I honestly don’t know if it’s all of them, any of them, or none of them. I wish I did, so I could do something about it. As it stands, I have no idea how to help myself, which is really annoying.

    What Am I…? It feels like it has been a long time since I knew what it meant to be "me".