#i know i didn't need to put that much effort into it but i did anyways

[redfoxwritesstuff]

A Misdemeanor Of The Heart: Chapter 25 (Human!Alastor x Married!Reader)

CW: Angst, blood, manipulation, Alastor being a murder baby AN: I hope my fellow Americans survived their Thanksgiving with minimal family fighting and all those who didn't celebrate around the world had a great Thursday. Prev Masterlist AO3 KoFi

Alastor parked his car at the edge of the park, under the shade of a large tree. It was late and the odds of being seen were minimal. Even so, it was better safe than sorry. The heavy canopy blocked much of the light from the streetlights, few though there were. 

He waited for a few moments, head resting against the back of the seat, eyes looking up and out the windshield. In the distance, the roof of your house peeked up from the treeline, whispering dark promises. For a few moments longer, he sat in the holy silence where late night and early morning danced together. 

The slam of the car door was loud, shattering the fragile silence of the night as he stepped away from the still car. He walked slowly to the small pond as he ran a hand through his hair. Curls spiraled out of the locks, tangled around his fingers as he pulled hairs free with the nervous action. Sweat and time were winning the battle against the effort he had put into pulling the strands straight that morning. 

It was alright. You seemed to like the curls. 

Kneeling at the edge of the pond, he splashed water on his face, scrubbing at the dried blood on his hands and neck blindly. He knew he would miss spots. There wasn’t much he could do about his shirt, but that was alright, too. It would all be alright, soon. 

He just wanted to see you. That was the thought that ran through his mind as he walked casually through the park. That’s all he needed, he told himself as he pushed branches and bushes out of his way. From a distance was fine, he just needed to see that you were alright. 

He could put you down, leave you alone as long as he knew you were alright. He just needed to know you were alright. 

Bark bit into his hands as he lifted his weight from the ground. Climbing the apple tree in the dark while drunk wasn’t as easy as he expected. At times, he nearly fell to the ground. Perhaps he deserved to fall, land on a root wrong, and break his back. 

He would be caught then. You would know what he was, what he really was. The world would know. Perhaps that would only be right, a fitting punishment for the pain you had suffered because of him. 

Eventually, he made it up to that thick horizontal branch he thought of as his. Each breath came out in a huff, labored from the exertion on top of the alcohol. Resting his head against the tree trunk, Alastor ignored the way his hair snagged and was pulled by the rough surface as he took long, slow breaths. 

The house was dark, quiet. Its occupants were asleep, as he should be. He had work tomorrow. Today? Yes, today at this point. There was time still. He could make it home and take a nap. He’d be rough, but he could make it through the night. 

Alastor closed his eyes as he listened to the sounds of the night, resting his eyes as he lounged perched above the rabbit hole stashed with letters he knew you were reading but not responding to. 

His eyes closed with a flutter as he thought of you. Such a sweet soul you were, pulling away from him to protect him. Didn’t you know? It was his job to protect you. That’s what a man does for the woman he loves. 

Love. That was the thought that floated through his rye soaked mind as a light sleep overtook him. 

You poured a mug of coffee for Laurence, setting it on the table where he read the newspaper. It was a rare morning when he didn’t leave early. He was grumpy and the quality of the coffee didn’t help his mood, but you did your best to focus on the way the sun peeked between the clouds and the chirping of the birds. 

“How can you fuck up something as easy as coffee,” he grumbled, and you wished he would have just went to the cafe on his way to the office. 

For a moment, Alastor fluttered across your mind and you wondered if he would think you fucked up the coffee. It was a thought you shot down with a pang of pain. It didn’t matter what Alastor would have thought, Alastor was not your husband.

“I’m sorry,” you said quickly, turning from the sink and starting to walk back to the table. “I’ll make you another one.” 

You made it halfway across the small kitchen before Laurence picked up the mug and, after a moment of thought, launched the steaming contents at you. Most of the coffee splashed across your front, the apron and dress under helping protect you from the scalding liquid, but pain still cut through nerves where it splashed up onto your neck.

“Laurence!?” you cried out, darting backward and crashing into the sink. 

Your husband spit venomous words at you, lost to the pounding in your ears. He disregarded all the renewed effort you had put into being a good wife for him. 

It wasn’t fair. Tears fell from your eyes as you watched him stand, waiting to see if he would leave or come after you with something far worse than his verbal assault. 

You didn’t know tired eyes watched from the distance. His first real sight of you while he blinked sleep from his mind was that of coffee splashing onto you. While Laurence walked out of the room and you crumpled to the ground in a puddle of coffee, you didn’t know how close Alastor came to climbing from the tree and ending a life in broad daylight.

Instead, as you stood, he watched you grab towels to mop up the liquid. As the car in front of your house roared to life, he slipped down from the tree. His body was stiff, and he was rather thirsty, but that was alright. He was glad to have sobered up, at least mostly sobered up.

He had gotten to see you. That was supposed to be enough. He wanted it to be enough. He needed it to be enough. He had gotten to see you. 

Alastor watched as you disappeared out of the kitchen while he stalked through the back garden. He saw the light in your bedroom illuminate the room still cast in morning shadows. Would you look out the window, Alastor wondered as Laurence’s car drove away? Would you see him? 

You didn’t. He was fairly sure of that as he stepped onto the back porch. The knob failed to turn under his hand, though he hadn’t even been aware of reaching for it. Locked, that was alright.

He was wrong, he had thought he needed to see you but that was alright. He could be wrong, sometimes. He was a humble man. What he actually needed was to hear your voice. 

Alastor smiled as he pulled the pins from his sock. The door was old and the lock simple. He made quick work of opening the door, hardly having to give the task much thought at all. 

It was a good thing you locked the door. There was a serial killer on the run.

Closing the door behind him, he locked it before making his way through the kitchen and into the living room. Laurence had left the front door unlocked, Alastor was dismayed to find. With a flick of his fingers, he locked that door as well.

Laurence was going to get you hurt if he didn’t take better care of you. It was bad enough that he was hurting you himself but to be careless with your safety on top of it? Disgusting. Sloppy. 

The stairs creaked as you walked down them. Alastor moved to the wall, hoping to be out of sight as you turned into the kitchen. You wore a burgundy house dress, and he liked how it looked on you. Much better than the bright sunny yellow you had been wearing before the coffee incident. 

His eyes cut down to the dark bruise above your elbow, on display thanks to the short sleeves of the dress. Surely you’d throw a shawl over your arms if someone knocked on the door to hide it. In the safety of your home, though, you had no need. 

As you stepped into the kitchen, he could see the angry red splotches on your neck, left by the hot coffee. Oh, how he longed to soothe the inflamed skin with soft kisses. 

He followed you, leaning in the doorway as he watched you grab the towels from the ground, sniffling. Were you crying because of the pig’s actions? Didn’t you know it wouldn’t make a difference, shedding tears for him? 

“He’s not worth crying over.” Alastor said, transatlantic accent coloring his words, brightening them with the day. 

You screamed, whipping around with wide eyes to face him. 

“Alastor!” You clutched your hands to your chest, “Mr. Moreau?!” 

Your eyes ran over him, taking in the feral sight. His hair, something wild between curly and straight, was a mess atop his head. Red stained his shirt, smeared his skin and dotted his face. 

“Never that name for you,” he said as he closed the small distance between you.

“What happened to you?” Before you thought it through, you rushed up to him, acting on instinct and impulse, actions doing nothing to reinforce the distance you had insisted on in your last letter. 

Fingers ran over his face, rough stubble scratching the pads before your fingers ghosted down his neck. Your eyes run over bloody sleeves and splotches on his shirt. 

“I went hunting.” He answered honestly, “I’m alright.” 

“Hunting?” you stepped back, coming back to yourself. “It’s early morning yet? And why are you in my house?” 

“I came in the door.” His head cocked to the side. “I couldn’t sleep. Couldn’t stop thinking about you. Went to Mimzy’s and had some drinks. Then went hunting.” 

“At night?!” You stepped back, and he took a step forward as he laughed, that easy free sound you had dreamed about too often since you wrote your last letter. “While drunk?” 

“Probably not my best judgement call,” Alastor admitted. “But it turned out alright.” 

“Did it, now?” You scolded, heart beating in your chest as Alastor continued to advance on you. “You’re covered in blood.” 

“I wanted to see you,” Alastor said.

“You need to leave.” Your back hit the wall. “My husband will be back for lunch.” 

“I needed to see you.” Alastor’s accent wavered, in and out as he looked at you with those warm brown eyes, pleading with you. “Needed to know what I did wrong.” 

“You didn’t- Alastor.” You closed your eyes and let out a breath. “Mr. Moreau,” He groaned at the sound of his surname on your lips. He never wanted to hear you say it until it was yours, as it should be. You continued talking just the same. “Our relationship was improper. I am a married woman. If we continued, it would have ruined us both.” 

“Not Mr. Moreau.” Alastor pressed, his hands coming to rest on the wall on either side of your shoulders. “Please, don’t. Don’t call me that. Don’t you love me?” 

“I do,” you said before you thought twice, pressing your hand against your lips as if you could somehow stuff the words back in. “Don’t you see? If we’re caught, everything you worked for is gone. I- It would be selfish for me to do that to you.”

“Then we don’t get caught. We hide,” Alastor said, elbows buckling as he fell closer to the wall, cutting the distance between you in half. “Ma cherie, I don’t need you to protect me. We are in love, are we not? The risk is worth anything, everything, for but even a moment in your presence.” 

“Alastor, I-” you noticed Laurence’s briefcase sitting by the table, heart thundering somehow louder in your ears. “Laurence is going to be back anytime now. He forgot his bag. You need to go.” 

Reaching up, you braced your hands on Alastor’s chest and attempted to shove him away. He moved less than an inch. When you couldn’t push him away, you stopped trying to, though you knew it was vital that you kept trying. Your hands lingered on his chest, feeling his heart pounding rapidly against his ribs. The rye he had been drinking still tinged his breath as it washed over you. 

“Don’t you love me?” Alastor’s voice was broken, naked.

“That’s why we can’t keep doing this.” Tears spilled down your cheeks. “I love you too much.” 

Outside the house, a car’s engine sounded in the distance. 

“It’s why we must.” Alastor challenged, noting the sound as your body tensed. “I will keep us safe.” 

“You can’t,” you pleaded, heart shattering in your chest. 

“I have so far.” Alastor pressed as the car drew closer. “If not for him. If not for your marriage vows, would you have picked me?” 

“I can’t go back in time.” 

“I’m not asking you to,” Alastor whispered. “If tomorrow you woke up and Laurence was nothing but a memory? Would you pick me? Want me?” 

The car pulled in front of your house, engine idling. “Alastor, he’s back. You need to go.”

“Not until you answer me,” Alastor whispered. “Would you pick me? Would you want me then? If the Shadow Butcher took Laurence tonight?” 

“Yes,” you whispered. “Yes, Alastor. Damnit, you need to go-” The car door opened and then slammed shut. 

“Then kiss me,” Alastor demanded, face hovering just over yours. No part of him touched you, yet you felt suffocated, wrapped up in him. 

“He’s coming.” You could hear Laurence’s footfalls outside on the walkway. It shouldn’t have been possible, but you swore you could. 

“I’m not leaving until you kiss me.” Alastor whispered, blood splattered face so close to yours. “You want me. You pick me. Then kiss me. Prove it. Show me. Please?” Alastor’s words came in a whispered rush, each statement coming faster and faster, naked words tripping and tumbling over one another. 

The doorknob rattled on the front door. Your eyes were wild as they darted away, trying to turn enough to see through walls. It felt like your executioner was getting ready to catch you. 

“Fuckin hell.” You swore you could hear Laurence outside as he tried the knob again. 

“Kiss me.” Alastor pleaded again. “Kiss me and I’ll go. Pick me. Don’t leave me. Please?” 

The keys rattled in Laurence’s hand, scraping against the lock as he tried the wrong key. You launched yourself forward, closing the small distance harshly. Lips against lips as an arm slid up his chest, wrapping around his neck. 

The coppery taste of blood and the stale taste of old rye flooded your senses as his lips parted in a gasp. His hands found your waist as he held you to him, gripping as they wrapped around you. He lifted you off your feet and walked backward as the lock clicked.

His tongue lapped at your lips before working into your mouth. He moaned into the kiss as his eyes fluttered, wanting to close and be in the moment, but needing to be aware of his surroundings. Large steps backward and to the side took them both almost to the back door as the hinges squeaked at the front of the house. 

“Don’t ignore me again?” Alastor whispered as he set you down, reaching behind him to unlock the back door. “Please?”

“Sugar,” Laurence called from the front door. “Where’s my bag?” 

“Alright,” you sighed, fear flooding you as Alastor opened the door. Laurence was in the living room now, coming closer still to the kitchen and back door. 

Alastor leaned down and placed one last kiss against your lips before stepping out the back door, pulling it shut behind him. As the door latched and you turned, Laurence stepped into the kitchen, calling your name. 

“I’m here,” you answered, putting your back to the door quickly. You didn’t dare look outside as you stepped into the kitchen for fear that you’d see Alastor making his great escape. 

“Where were you?” Laurence asked, as he picked up the forgotten bag. “Why didn’t you answer?” 

“I was just checking the weather,” you lied, “I hope to get sheets washed and hung to dry early.” 

Laurence looked at you for moments that stretched on as you tried to will yourself to relax. “Why are you flushed?” 

“The coffee was hot,” you said. “My skin’s still heated from the spill.” 

Outside the house, back resting against the wall, Alastor sat. His head was just under the window. Through the glass, he could hear everything. Carefully, he twisted and peeked up, watching as Laurence turned his back on the window. That was his chance, and he dared not waste it. 

Long legs swiftly carried him in a direct line from the house to the apple tree. He ran, glancing over his shoulder frequently, fearing he would lock eyes with Laurence. The back of the blond head and then an empty kitchen was all he saw as he rounded behind the tree. 

He waited there, chest heaving in gasping breaths. Exhaustion weighed heavily on his shoulders, but he waited to move until he heard the car roar to life again. Sliding down the tree, he turned and dug for the notebook and pen.

He needed to get home, run a bath and sleep, but first, he wanted to add one more note to the stack. He hoped you’d read it, that you were not just telling him what he needed to hear to save yourself. 

Thinking back to the way you kissed him, he didn’t think that was the case. You kissed him as if you needed this as much as he did. Everything would get back on track, Alastor was sure of it as he walked through the narrow forest, humming. 

Yes, things were going to go back to how they had been. He would keep spending time with you and growing this little flame between you. When Alastor got the chance, he would take Laurence back to his home and they would have a nice long talk before Alastor ended his filthy life. 

Oh, how the thought filled him with almost as much joy as your kiss had. 

Join us at VoxTek for a Vox themed Hazbin Discord where we talk Vox, Alastor, Hazbin, writing, reading, art and who knows what else. You may even catch some exclusive sneak peeks at upcoming fics from some of your favorite writers including the first page of the next chapter of MisD a day early!!

Next?

[midnight-mourning]

*Taps mic* Heard y'all like Moon around here, you're in luck, this one's for you

massive, MASSIVE thank you to @lunarmoves for beta-reading this chapter!!

She put a lot of time and effort into making my BS readable for y'all and it's greatly appreciated <3 <3 <3

Shay also makes really good dca stuff (also sebastian solace but I know very little about the fish tbh) and you should check her out!

Also, happy 200k+!!! We're only 297k from truly becoming the 500k enemies to lovers slowburn of our dreams lmaoooo

But for real I apologize for such a delay with this one. If you'd like to hear my excuses/reasoning they're below the cut, or you can just go read the chapter whatever suits ya ^-^

Tag list (if you would like added please see this post for more info):

@scarletcowboy @beemyhuneybee @fishm0ther @deviouscrackers @elsajoyagent8

@luckyyyduckyyy @zenkaiankoku @jogimote @local-shrub @amarynthian-chronicles

@robinette-green @everlightreader @sinister-sincerely @starredeclipse @dangerva

CW: medical stuff & additionally a bit of unreality mentions

Okay going to try and keep this simple bc I've said parts of it before

So as most of you know, I've been sick for 3 months now

I've now been on two rounds of steroids, and currently on my third round of antibiotics, which are basically keep me fucntional, not improving

besides general discomfort and pain, my memory has been pretty shot at times, I will go through the day and barely remember what I did/what I'm doing/what I need to do

as someone who had brain fog caused by covid a few years ago, this was genuinely a scary experience because ultimately, this has been worse

i've felt out of control of my body, having times where I'm mid thought and then instantly lose it

this is not my normal, I usually pride myself on my memory, so losing it has been incredibly devastating and scary

this was not helped by the fact that the quick care I went to (THREE TIMES for this) basically kind of sort of tried to gaslight me into believing nothing could be done and that it's not an infection

so not only has this entire thing has gotten dragged out so much more, which makes me sad tbh, but I've also felt like I've been going crazy bc it felt like no one was believing me when i said I was sick and not getting any better (including friends, family, coworkers etc, though unintentional on their parts to be fair)

I feel like I've lost three months of my life and coming to terms with that has been, yeah

on top of all that, I'm still in school AND doing grad stuff, and while the school side of things has been okay (thank god), grad's had it's moments, won't get into it but have had multiple issues with my advisor that have been at times just really tough to deal with

Confused spirit got pushed to the back burner, because i quite literally at times could not think, and when it comes to this fic, where there's multiple ongoing plot threads, characterizations, lore, and so on to keep track of, it was just, impossible to me to even consider writing for it

having shorter stuff like promptober, the oneshots and such was great to keep me writing, and also still interact with everyone in the community, plus i had a lot of fun with them so that helped too

this is all to say that I do sincerly apologize for the delay, and at the very least I should've clearly communicated about there being a hiatus, when this all started I thought i'd be down for two weeks max, then as that time kept increasing I just kept putting it off and putting it off because i thought i was going to get better, and then I didn't

I do this for fun and for nothing else, fic writing isn't content (it's engaging with fandom) and i have to remind myself of that sometimes but given that I've been around in some capacity on and off I feel I should've said something in some regard

Having said all that, I'm doing okay now! Still sick, but as long as I'm on meds I'm functional, stuff is getting managable with grad, and hopefully have some fun things coming up irl! Point is, the last three months haven't been the best, but they've been alright, due in part to all the support you all have given me, so thank you for that, can't say it enough :)

Okay, I think that just about covers it, thank you for taking the time to read all of this if you did <3

[unfriendlies]

garam couldn't help but scoff, there was no way he believed that darius was actually worried about him. why would he be? their only connection was angel, so why would darius care about his safety? it just didn't make sense to garam. his eyes diverted, head turning to look away from both angel and darius. maybe he cared because angel cared and darius cared for angel, so if angel was worried, then of course darius would worry, too. he'd worry about anything that worries angel simply for the fact that he didn't want angel feeling bad. this guy must have liked angel with the way he was acting towards the both of them. garam was hesitant when angel asked him to come eat, having lost his appetite at this point. but he still stood up and walked over to the table to sit next to angel. he was quiet, only cutting a piece of the egg off with his fork, but he made no effort to pick it up to eat it. "you don't have to yell at him." he stated, putting his elbow up on top of the table and resting his chin in his palm. "he's right. i was right there, in the other room, and i had no idea what he was doing to you. i could have stopped him if i hadn't drank so much," he wasn't even incredibly drunk at the time but he had drank enough to make his head spin so he needed to lay down. "if only i had listened to you from the start, this wouldn't have happened." he stabbed at the egg again, breaking the little bit of yolk that hadn't cooked so it started to bleed over the whites. "this really is my fault." he sighed softly before looking up to angel. "that's why i have to make sure you're always safe. you're the most important person in my life, i'd let him kill me before he ever lays hands on you again." he didn't let any time pass before speaking again, not wanting to give angel the opportunity to deny garam's role in their situation. "you know, he's going to be at work. i don't really need you guys to help me bring stuff over." if there was one thing his ex cared about most, it would have been his career. sure, it was just some boring office job but he was good at what he did and made good money with little effort. there was no way he was going to take unnecessary time off of work, garam was convinced of this since he was told numerous times that his ex just couldn't take a single day off to spend more time with him or to go on a mini vacation. so there was no way the man was lying when he sent off the text saying he was going to work. "it wouldn't be that much stuff i bring over, either. i could fit my work stuff in a tote and i'll just bring some clothes, shower stuff, and whatever other personal things i need in a duffle bag." he looked over to darius and offered a small downturned smile. "and you two can hang out here for a while, or whatever. i feel bad that you had to leave last night because of me. so if you want more time with him, i'd just have to be out of my place before five..."

Angel stood by the bedroom door and pulled it open. He stood holding the handle for a moment letting out a sigh, “Garam I wasn’t disgusted. I could never be disgusted by you” he whispered to his best friend. He glanced over at him before exiting the room. Strolling down the hallway, he thought about what he would say to Darius. He couldn’t believe how rude he was. As he approached the corner of the hallway, he saw Darius pacing the kitchen. His face had a scowl as he chewed on his lips. Angel groaned as he moved into the kitchen and went to the stove. Knowing that look all too well the other man was thinking and upset. Angel was becoming exhausted navigating everyone’s feelings but not being able to express his own. Darius immediately began apologizing and begging Angel to let him stay and allow him to help. “You need to respect him, Darius. No more side comments. Don’t ask me about him anymore. My best friend for the first time is questioning me. I can’t handle any more bullshit.” He quipped as he finished making their breakfast. Being from a Latin household hold he made his comfort foods. Fried eggs, mashed plantains, and sausage. He made each of their plates as Darius and he rambled on about their job. Angel was an artist but to make some extra cash they both worked at a club doing odd jobs. As they spoke and sat down to wait for Garam, Angel realized how long his best friend was taking. As he stood up to go check on him he heard the shower turn off which gave him pause. He lowered back in his seat and gave Darius a shrug as they both shared a concerned look. “Angel, after we help your friend can we grab dinner? I want to take you out.” Angel raised an eyebrow as he picked at the skin around his fingers. He felt safe around the man but he also made him nervous. Ever since confessing his feelings Darius had been bolder about asking him out. Angel made it clear he had feelings for someone which Darius figured out pretty quickly was Garam. But the other didn’t seem to care and was persistent. “Why do you want to date someone who has feelings for someone else? That’s a disaster waiting to happen” Angel had a humorless laugh as he nervously moved his index finger over the glass of water in front of him. Before the man could answer they both turned hearing his bedroom door creak open and the soft sound of steps approaching. The two men were quiet as Garam came out quietly sitting on the couch. The two at the table shared a look before Angel opened his mouth but stopped as Garam spoke. “I’m not here to judge you. I’m worried about the both of you. I’m not questioning whether or not he is your best friend. You say that but weren’t you just in the other room that night? And had no idea what happened?” Angel’s body stiffened again and he clenched his jaw. “Darius, enough! Eat your fucking food and don’t say another word” Angel spat out through gritted teeth. “No more of this shit. This is pointless. Garam please come try and eat. We will head over to your place. Darius, you will keep watch outside the apartment.” The raven-haired man glared at Darius from across the table who sat looking like a wounded puppy as he picked over his food avoiding his eyes. Angel’s gaze softened as he looked back to Garam extending his arm to the man on the couch, “Please come eat”

[eowynstwin]

I've come to the last thing I'd like to talk about, and unlike the rest it's something I've already made progress working through. I want to try keep this subject brief, because 1) it's taken a LOT out of me to get through all this and 2) even so, it's helped, and I'm ready to move on. I just don't want to leave anything important to me unaddressed.

So, I mentioned that when I returned to this blog, it felt like everyone had moved on from the Myka issue. I didn't see the same kind of support when I came back as I did when I left—and maybe it seems presumptive of me, but I had been expecting it. There was precedent, after all.

And I'll be honest—it took pretty much all the wind out of my sails. It kind of felt like it didn't matter if I was here or not—like, outside of the Myka issue, I hadn't actually made enough of an impression on anyone, with my own work or my support for others', for them to really care if I came back. Which, considering how many people were there for me when I left, I believed I had. That belief felt pretty misplaced after that. And to put it mildly, that did not feel good.

At the same time—and I've already talked about this in the past, so I don't want to retread old ground too much—I noticed a drop in engagement with the new work I posted. I understand now that that involved a lot of factors—my long absence, the change in my url, general fandom trends—but because it happened around the same time as my return, it compounded that feeling of my irrelevance.

So as I’ve been writing this whole time, and posting, I’ve lived with this undercurrent of god I hope this is good enough for them to care about me again. I felt like I had never actually been good enough for anyone to think of me outside of the Myka incident. I couldn't enjoy my own work without thinking none of this was ever good enough. I got to the point where I couldn't enjoy other people's work without thinking everyone likes them, but they don't like me.

Now, obviously this is unhealthy. It's also patently untrue, as demonstrated by the support I and my work have been given in the months following my return.

A part of me kind of cringes to discuss this at all, because it feels unfair to the people who've offered that support—I don't want anyone to feel like I haven't appreciated it, because I have. But I lay all this out to lead to the conclusion I've come to, which I want to share, because it feels like the gateway into finally leaving Myka, and all of these things I've been feeling, behind for good.

I've talked to friends since then, gotten context, and I've evaluated my tenure as a whole in this community in effort to understand.

The thing at the core of this issue is that my confidence was shaken. Both by the incident itself, and everything that followed it.

While it was happening, I was under a microscope, and found inadequate. I couldn't talk about it, because that would only make things worse for me. When I came back, I felt like I was still under the microscope, and I still couldn't talk about it—and in addition, it seemed like I had earn my place here again.

Feeling like that has made it really, really hard to enjoy being here. But I know that feeling isn't entirely rational. And if I don't want to feel that way anymore, I have to let myself say the things I need to say and make the things I want to make, and I have to let myself enjoy doing it.

I want to be here. Despite everything, I still belong here, even if I don't feel like I do. I've been so afraid to talk about Myka all this time, really, because I didn't think any of you wanted to hear about it. I thought it would drive you away.

But I've talked about it now. And you've all listened. So that means I'm allowed feel confident about everything else.

Thank you.

[m4rv3l-girl]

Despite you being the love of his life, bucky has gotten cold lately, he was like ice, reader can't help but think did he lose feelings? Why was he sleeping on the couch instead of snuggled up to your chest?

Bucky noticed readers doubts and it broke him, he didn't know him to explain that the nightmares was driving him crazy, every night he dreamed about his metal hand circling your throat and it was destroying him, he wouldn't be able to live with himself if he hurt you but seeing you doubt yourself was worse that anything. He loved you so much and he had to remind you.

He was due for a Misson but called in sick but still kept his distance from you, and that night you got up for water and you heard bucky on the couch whisper no please, come back to me and you rushed over helping him out of his nightmare and he jumped back from you at first and then instantly seeked out your warmth and he held onto you and explained everything and apologised and that night all was settled, bucky sleeping soundly on your chest while you stroked his hair

I need this to hurt then fluffyly put me back together plz

Love your writing! Keeps me entertained🫶🏻🫶🏻

Cold To the Touch

Warnings: Major angst. Fluff at the end.

The first time you noticed the change, it was subtle—an absent-minded kiss goodnight that landed on your cheek instead of your lips.

At first, you brushed it off, telling yourself that Bucky was simply tired. After all, he had been pulling long hours at the compound lately. But as the days stretched into weeks, the distance became impossible to ignore.

Bucky had always been affectionate—almost overwhelmingly so. He loved wrapping himself around you, nuzzling into your neck, whispering soft reassurances about how you were his everything. But now? Now, he barely touched you. The man who once clung to you like a lifeline was slipping away, and you couldn’t help but wonder if you had done something wrong.

The final straw came when you woke up one night to find the bed empty, his side cold. You padded into the living room, heart sinking as you found him curled up on the couch, a thin blanket draped over him. You stood there for a moment, watching his chest rise and fall in the dim light. He looked peaceful, but the sight tore you apart. Why was he out here instead of next to you?

The doubts crept in like poison, filling your mind with every insecurity you thought you’d buried. Did he lose feelings? Was he regretting being with you? Tears pricked at your eyes as you quietly retreated back to the bedroom, leaving him undisturbed.

Days stretched into weeks, and the gulf between you and Bucky only seemed to widen. It was like trying to hold onto a shadow—the man who had once been your sunbeam was now an enigma of cold silence. You tried not to overthink, tried to rationalize his distance as stress or exhaustion. But each time he flinched away from your touch, a small piece of your heart cracked.

He avoided your eyes like they might burn him.

If you reached for his hand, he’d find an excuse to pull away. When you asked if he wanted to talk, he’d mumble something about being fine and retreat to the couch. That couch had become your nemesis, the space he seemed to prefer over your bed, over you.

You tried to be understanding. After all, you knew Bucky carried a lifetime of trauma in his soul, and you were no stranger to his demons. But this felt different. This wasn’t the quiet contemplation of a man working through his pain. This was detachment—ice creeping into the spaces between you and freezing everything in its path.

You fought back in the only ways you knew how.

Cooking his favorite meals became a nightly ritual. You’d carefully prepare the tender beef stew he loved or the rich mac and cheese that made his eyes light up. But no matter how much effort you poured into the dishes, he barely ate, mumbling a thanks before retreating to his corner of the couch.

You left him sweet notes—simple things like, "I love you more than anything," or "You’re my favorite person, don’t forget that." You’d slip them into his jacket pocket or leave them on his pillow. But each note seemed to vanish into the ether without so much as a mention.

And then there was the red sweater.

Soft, cozy, and snug in all the right places, it was the sweater he used to tug you into while muttering, “My girl looks too good in this.” You wore it one evening, hoping he’d say something, anything. You had stood in the living room from countless minutes - no doubt in your mind that he’d say something, or smile even. But when he looked at you, it was like he didn’t even see you.

You started to wonder if he had just completely stopped loving you, if maybe you weren’t enough to keep him tethered. Doubts clawed at your mind, each one sharper than the last. Maybe he was falling out of love. Maybe he’d already fallen.

That night, you lay in bed, the sheets cold and uninviting. You stared at the empty space beside you, the hollow where Bucky should have been. And for the first time, the thought struck you: What if I’m losing him?

You felt tears sliding down your cheeks, hot and relentless. You didn’t bother wiping them away. It was easier to let them fall, to let the ache pour out of you into the quiet, unfeeling night.

Somewhere out in the living room, Bucky shifted on the couch. The sound was faint, but it cut through the silence like a knife, reminding you of the wall that now separated the two of you.

And you couldn’t help but wonder if it was a wall you’d ever be able to tear down.

Maybe he’d found someone else. Maybe he was just too polite to tell you he wanted out.

💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔

Bucky, on the other hand, was crumbling under the weight of his own mind. Each night, the nightmares came without fail. They were vivid and cruel, dragging him back to a darkness he thought he’d left behind. But this time, it wasn’t some nameless victim in his metal grasp—it was you.

In every dream, his hand wrapped around your throat, your terrified eyes staring up at him as he squeezed. No matter how hard he fought to stop, he couldn’t. The sight of your lifeless body haunted him long after he woke, the phantom sensation of your skin under his metal fingers making him recoil in disgust.

He couldn’t risk it. He couldn’t be near you, couldn’t let the monster lurking inside him have a chance to hurt you. So, he distanced himself, even though it tore him apart. Seeing the hurt in your eyes every time he pulled away was worse than any punishment Hydra could have devised, but he told himself it was better this way. Better you were sad than dead.

One night, Bucky was supposed to be preparing for a mission. Instead, he called Steve and told him he couldn’t make it. His voice was strained, and Steve didn’t press. He couldn’t tell you the truth, though. Instead, he avoided you entirely, claiming he wasn’t feeling well and retreating to his usual spot on the couch.

That night, you lay awake again, staring at the dark ceiling. The air felt thick with unspoken words, the silence stretching until it became unbearable. With a heavy sigh, you decided to get up and grab some water, hoping the cool liquid would soothe the ache in your chest.

As you approached the living room, you heard him before you saw him.

“No… please… come back to me…”

Your heart clenched at the broken whispers. Peering around the corner, you found Bucky thrashing on the couch, his face twisted in anguish. You rushed to his side, kneeling next to him as you placed a gentle hand on his arm.

“Bucky, wake up,” you said softly, shaking him. “It’s just a dream. Wake up, love.”

His eyes snapped open, wild and unfocused, and he jerked away from you as if your touch burned. For a moment, you thought he might run, but then his gaze locked onto yours, and something broke inside him. Tears welled in his eyes as he reached for you, pulling you into his arms like a drowning man clinging to a lifeboat.

“I’m sorry,” he choked out, his voice cracking. “I’m so sorry, doll.”

You held him close, your fingers threading through his hair as you whispered soothing words. “It’s okay, Bucky. You’re okay. I’m here.”

He shook his head vehemently, his grip on you tightening. “No, it’s not okay. I’ve been pushing you away, and it’s killing me. I didn’t know how to tell you…”

“Tell me what?” you asked gently, pulling back just enough to see his face.

His jaw worked as he struggled to find the words. “The nightmares. Every night, I see myself hurting you. My metal hand… it’s around your throat, and I can’t stop. I wake up, and it feels so real. I couldn’t risk it. I couldn’t risk being near you.”

Tears streamed down your cheeks as you cupped his face, forcing him to meet your gaze. “Bucky, you’d never hurt me. Do you hear me? Never.”

He shook his head again, but you wouldn’t let him look away. “You’re not the Winter Soldier anymore. You’re not that man. You’re my Bucky—the man who loves me, protects me, and would do anything to keep me safe.”

His resolve crumbled, and he buried his face in your neck, sobbing. “I’m sorry,” he repeated, over and over. “I’m so sorry, doll.”

You held him until his tears subsided, your fingers tracing soothing patterns along his back. When he finally pulled back, his eyes were red-rimmed, but there was a softness there that had been missing for weeks.

“I love you,” he said, his voice raw but steady. “More than anything. I’ve been a coward, and I’ll never forgive myself for making you doubt that.”

You smiled through your tears, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. “I love you too, Bucky. But next time, talk to me. We’re a team, remember?”

He nodded, a small, tentative smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Yeah. A team.”

That night, Bucky climbed into bed with you for the first time in weeks. He curled around you, his head resting on your chest as your fingers combed through his hair. For the first time in a long time, he felt safe. Loved. Wanted.

And as his breathing evened out and sleep claimed him, you vowed to remind him every day that he was worthy of that love.

That he was your Bucky - flaws and all.

——————————————————————————————————

Hope you enjoyed it, hun! 🫶

Requests Open!

[impatient-traveler]

I realize a lot of the current fandom came to the game after several patches or several *years* since release. So a lot of you might not know the history and how things used to be different.

Now, I personally have very strong feelings about the direction in which FFXV was taken post-launch, but this isn't the point of this post.

The point is to maybe make some newer people in the fandom realize that things used to be very different and hopefully make some of you guys learn something cool about a game you love.

FFXV had several core philosophies that were new, and brave, and really cool, and some of them ended up backfiring really badly. It endeavored to be a multimedia project (the multitude of associated media wasn't just "they weren't able to fit it in the game"!). It was intended to be a live service game (which feels very disconnected from the meaning of that term now, but it was already pretty weird at the time. Tabata, the game's director, seemed to have a very different idea of what it meant from the rest of the world, and to him it meant free monthly updates for multiple years alongside paid DLC). It also was intended to take the players' feedback into account in order to become the best game it could be. That's why we got a huge poll asking for what to add to the game, and that's why a ton of changes were made to the game's main story and content after release. That's also why the original experience is nearly lost to time now.

The initial few patches were mostly a continuation of the game's development. Stuff the devs hadn't managed to do in time or that they thought needed to be better. As time went on, though, more and more updates were made that changed the game's identity in significant ways.

One of the major ideas behind FFXV's storytelling was that it was always intended to be subjective. The main game was Noct's story. You had main characters leaving, you had a lot of things not being explained, a lot of stuff you had to piece together from scraps of info. You were intended to experience the story the way Noctis did. The DLC and other media were supposed to fill those gaps for you. What happened in Insomnia while we were gone? What did the other party members get up to while they weren't with us? You were supposed to get this information from different narrators, different viewpoints.

Think about it. Noctis is only twenty, he was never explicitly told what his destiny would involve, he was never taught how to do this. He's confused, he's terrified, he's just trying to keep going one step at a time through most of the game. It was immersive and impactful when you shared some of those feelings as a player.

The information was there. In other media (Kingsglaive, Brotherhood, A Kings's Tale, Parting Ways, Platinum Demo, eventually all the DLC), but also in little scraps around the game's world. Radio transmissions, Cosmogony books, scraps of newspapers and documents, the environmental storytelling of the nights creeping into your days, the ruined walls of Zegnautus Keep. It was in the context. The subtext. The cross-referencing and theory crafting we, the fandom, did.

You would be surprised just how much of the lore added in DLC and updates elicited no reaction from us back then. It was "duh". It was things we already knew. Things we'd pieced together, discussed, and written fics for months in advance.

Then the Internet did its thing and the loudest voices the devs could hear were the people who didn't love the game, who didn't want to put in the effort, who didn't want to think about it too hard. And instead of only affecting the subsequent content, it also changed the game we used to know.

The random interactable lore dumps they added to many locations with no explanation or reason to be there. The bestiary and character infos (which is a great feature but contributes to making players wait for lore to be fed to them rather than think for themselves). The horrible, disgusting powerpoint presentation they inserted into the middle of the Shiva conversation on the train that just pauses mid-dialogue to offer you an extensive infodump and then continues as if that never happened. There's a lot of things like this.

Did you know the original Ch13 was a horror game? The Ring's spells were tuned in such a way that they incentivised sneaking. It wasn't even mandatory then, you could still bruteforce your way through just by learning the simple counter timing for the Ring. But until you did, you got a precious few minutes of feeling terrified of the MTs patrolling the corridors. People complained that it "took you out of the action" and "interrupted the pace". Oh, do you mean how Noctis was INTERRUPTED by suddenly being all alone, in an unknown, hostile place, trying to rush to save his friend but not get himself killed? It was impactful. It was memorable. Now ch13 feels like a bad joke, Ardyn's attempts at taunts triggering a minute late when you've already moved on from the corpses of the MTs he's warning you about.

Do you know how it felt when Insomnia was a quarter of its current game size and had barely any content? It was rushed, yes. But that was the tragedy of it. The reason why it was so successful at conveying how this felt to Noctis, to the others who'd been waiting for him for a decade. To be reunited only to die. To be robbed of all your freedom in favor of playing the role you were meant for.

Did you realize the entire boss rush at the end is a Royal Edition addition? It's too long. It feels disjointed and at odds with the mood of the story. You're supposed to feel helpless. You're supposed to despair. Instead you get each party member delivering an over-the-top finisher move while yelling extremely cheesy and out of character lines about how much they love their friend. We always knew how much they loved him. It was in their presence. In their willingness to die for him. In the way they didn't look away when they knew they were about to lose him. In the stilted dialogue and awkward attempts at humor, trying to recapture their lost innocence.

This game used to punch you in the gut as it ended. It used to make you feel like you were watching a dear friend walk to his death and had to live with that, with the knowledge that for all its injustice and cruelty, this was "for the best".

Go out. Get the 1.0 mod (which I was consulted for as the person who actually played the old versions and resident modding community grandma but did not touch any of the actual mod making). Get an old disk copy for your console. See this game at its strongest. Experience the version of the story that forces you to grapple with the tragedy and doesn't sugarcoat or distract you from the ugly parts.

[emeraldblonde]

I tried to mod something and the good news is, it didn't crash the game. 🥳 The bad news is, not what I was looking for lmao.

Like, don't get me wrong. I've seen way worse (the stuff of nightmares) on a modding channel I've been teaching myself this stuff lately, so. It's not like I completely fucked this thing up or anything like that.

It's just... I still gotta ask though.

What went wrong here?

[triglycercule]

Murder trio

i actually cried seeing this in my inbox i will not lie. like actually fucking cried tears of joy /srs absolutely no words can express just how absolutely thralled i am that you drew this. i'm actually ACTUALLY so so overjoyed and flattered and so happy that someone could manage to encapsulate just how much i love the jk!trio and just how silly they are and how you put your own spin on this and made them just as cute and silly and amazing as i've always wanted to see I'M ACTUALLY CRYING THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR DRAWING THE JK!MTT 😭😭😭

im so sorry for the late answer i have literally had no time to draw but TYSM FOR THIS I DREW MORE JK AU 4 YOU TO THANK YOU❤️❤️💜💜💙💙 ‼️‼️

they just got out of an extreme gaming session at the boardwalk arcade and now the suns setting and killer wants to get ice cream before it sets so they can watch the sunset but as usual she's a bit too excited for horror and dust to keep up and dust is absolutely dying (she gets ZERO excercise and killer is FAST) and horror just wants to take her time and also spare dust from killer's wrathful running speed. its ok though they manage to eat the icecream while watching the sunset even while slowed down (the vibes in this one are immaculate this is what jk fashion au stands for. silly fluffy important friendship bonding memories. i love. it's not full effort because i wanted to get this done quickly so i wouldnt respond late but im UNFORTUNATELY busy and now its been a day,,,,, I STILL LOVE THE ART YOU SENT ME THANM YKJ SO MUCH)

[eachuisge-cc]

Hey, just wanted to let you know how absolutely pleased I am that there's another person with many Big Feelings (tm) about horses in skyrim. I completely yeeted my save game to get these gorgeous horsies. I am so excited for the light horse addon. I do have a suggestion, since you also mentioned making Cicero's cart horse unique. Unless he sold his horse for a fluffier one in Dawnstar, since he brought the night mother in from Cyrodiil it is possible his horse, if he indeed kept the same horse, would be a more Imperial type. That could be a neat way to make his horse unique! Although I totally get it if it's too much work for a horse we only see in passing.

aah thank you! very glad you're enjoying the mod.

I'm still debating what to do with Cicero's horse, my instinct is to keep it as a Skyrim horse for now because it would look a little odd to have a single barb-type horse pulling a wagon that size by itself, and I can believe that he might have changed horses/wagons between Cyrodiil and Whiterun, that would be a long way for a single horse to pull. I'll have to figure out the carriage horse situation if/when BS Cyrodiil comes out and at that point I'll replace Cicero's horse with whatever I end up with for that (I'm having a hell of a time finding info on work horses in Imperial Rome, everybody focuses on the war horses and the chariot horses which is all well and good until you need to know about the horses with less exciting jobs).

It seems like maybe they didn't have much in the way of draft horses (some pages on the Ardennes claim its history "dates back to ancient Rome" but don't elaborate in any way and it probably wasn't the contemporary version of the breed) but I'll have to do more research.

[doberrrman]

I have this feeling that I have unofficial beef with my neighbor...

[arklay]

🖊️🖊️ for both my love diana & tereza 💜

diana

she can play both the violin and piano, although she favoured the violin growing up. she hasn't played consistently since she was a teenager, so she is rusty, but when she picks it up again, she finds it easy to get back into it (and yes, i have a sappy thought of what's his face watching her play once)

diana's first serious boyfriend actually played aussie rules. who would've guessed? he moved to sydney when the south melbourne football club became the sydney swans and they met at university, but they eventually broke up after almost two years together when she moved to america to follow a research opportunity following the completion of her masters, which he encouraged her to take

tereza

she mainly helped her father tend to the graveyard outside the church, but tereza would venture off to where none of the other villagers would go – across the bridge past potter's field and to where claudia was buried. she would trim the plants there and clean the headstones, and donna's gardener found that peculiar

tereza liked to cross-stitch when she had a bit of free time, and she could often be found doing so while sitting on the steps behind the church that leads to the mausoleums

[justinefrischmanngf]

both times i've written a film essay i've gone about it in such a terrible terrible way like i 100% know how i should be doing this and i know that i should be putting more time and care into it but i just have not . anyway i'm hoping that next semester i can get my shit together with it a bit more because i would actually like to do as well as i can.....

[warthogreporter]

And now, a brief look at the human fucker community on a monster version of tumblr

🐙 WetterThanYou Follow

It's so sad that humans can't breathe underwater, makes bringing them to my lair so much harder

👺Ascetic-more-like-ass-cetic Follow

Was anyone going to tell me humans can't breathe underwater or was I supposed to just learn that from a text post?

🐙WetterThanYou Follow

Please tell me you didn't seriously look at humans and go 'they look like they can breathe underwater'

👺Ascetic-more-like-ass-cetic Follow

I thought they were like lions and how some live in the sea :(

🦁BEaST-MAN Follow

DID YOU THINK SEA LIONS WERE LITERAL LIONS?!

👺Ascetic-more-like-ass-cetic Follow

They're not? 😭😭😭

(10,053 Notes)

🐺HereWolf Follow

Vampires will be like 'I love humans' and then transform every human they know into another vampire. Weak. You are like someone who only watches Marvel movies and calls themselves a filmbuff.

🏏Batass Follow

Hey OP this is an important part of many vampire cultures so you should tone it down because this is really offensive.

🐺HereWolf Follow

You should get a culture that isn't fucking lame.

🦁BEaST-MAN Follow

OP you are literally a werewolf. And into throwing stones in glass houses I guess.

🐺HereWolf Follow

Gurl you don't know the amount of effort I put into keeping my human girlfriend a human girlfriend because I love her for being a human.

(8,000 Notes)

💚CraftedLove Follow

In the club on a date with a human straight up breaking it. And by 'it,' haha, well. Let's just say. His sanity.

(42,069 Notes)

🧙‍♂️ Crystal-Rooster-and-Orbs Follow

Sick of getting added to group chats like 'plots to overthrow our lieges.' Yes, I am both an evil wizard and an evil vizier. But I'm not plotting any treachery because my king is also evil, and so is my queen. We are in an evil polycule and give each other evil night kisses.

🧙‍♂️ Crystal-Rooster-and-Orbs Follow

Also stop telling me about the evil queen's OnlyFans like the king and I aren't helping her run it. Who do you think is taking the pictures? You have no idea how many evil yet deeply impractical schemes it's given us the economic cushion to do.

(48,835 Notes)

🤼‍♂️Bitch-of-Heracles Follow

Need me a human who will hold me like this and just destroy me 😍

♣️HeraclesOfficial✅ Follow

Hey.

🤼‍♂️Bitch-of-Heracles Follow

WHY DID NOBODY THINK TO WARN ME HERACLES WAS ON THIS WEBSITE?!

(33,333 Notes)

This now has a sequel, and a third act

[phagodyke]

ahh.. I have tickets for a small music festival tmr which I went to last year + had a whale of a time but this year theres only like 2 artists I wanted to see but they released the schedule a couple days ago and neither are playing before 9:30pm. since I don't live local anymore I'd have to leave to travel back home around that time or I'd miss the last train... and there's not rly anywhere I can crash overnight there (and I was planning on going alone anyway like I did last year). so I think im gonna have to let this one pass me by :-(

[myheartxmyman]

The You I knew seems to be gone.. Last year I tried to find the old you, I couldn't reach you anymore. Wasn't able to feel our bond the way it had been and I got more and more desperate.

Those last week's I am not desperate, I am truly unhappy, sad, feeling alone while being in 'a partnership', I am deeply hurt, and at the same time trying to get over those feelings I feel. Sometimes being with you is just too much, because I want nothing more than spending time with you, but I am not feeling it. It hurts. Sometimes being in your presence makes me feel so so lonely. Sometimes I have to be alone, because it feels like I am still fighting to keep my sanity after you did what you did. You ripped my heart completely open and gave not one shit. I am still suffering that much and I don't know how to make it stop.

Meanwhile I KNOW, you behaved in a horrible and cruel way towards me. Not just once but again and again and again. It seems like you don't even are aware of that. But that's one of the things I am trying to tell you. You don't seem to spend a lot of time even thinking about us, me, my feelings and so on. I feel like you're not reflecting yourself, it's more like you are running from something; and I think somehow it's you. I wish you would for once try to understand my feelings, put yourself in my shoes, see why your actions made me behave in certain ways. You broke my trust not just once or twice, how am I supposed to open up to you again? I won't talk to you if my trust level is that low. That's how it is. And at the same time this situation is hurting me over and over again. Because what we shared was something special, and now we're so close to losing each other. Somehow it feels like I am waiting and waiting for nothing, because we don't seem to be on your mind anymore. You want to talk to me, you're blaming me.. Why don't you listen to my words? When did you get blind? I am hurting, I am unhappy, I don't want to leave, but I fear 'this' is not going anywhere. We are standing still.