#i regret hurting people yet i wouldn’t change a thing if i could

[lvstharmony]

​beyond grateful for the people that are surrounding me in my life, just as i am grateful for the people i’ve parted ways with, for without them, i would not be the person i am today.

[seireiteihellbutterfly]

Second Chance Sorcerer Chapter 3 - The Trials

Pairing: Nanami Kento x Fem! reader A/N: Chapter 3 is here! I'm glad I was able to write this out. As usual, this has been adapted to y/n format. To read the OC version, check out AO3.

Oh, and I highly recommend listening to Yet by Switchfoot while reading this chapter. It just pairs well. Warnings: childhood trauma, lots of angst

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Nanami masterlist

“By facing your deepest regrets.”

Nanami feels a chill rake over his spine as the shadow being says the words.

“Regrets? There isn’t a single sorcerer in the world that doesn’t have regrets. There’s no good way to rank them.”

“Really 7:3 sorcerer? You don’t believe some regrets hurt more than others?” The Spectator watches with keen eyes as Nanami contemplates its words. There’s a pregnant pause while he considers, glancing around at Phantom Tokyo as he does so. He didn’t like how the shadow easily figured out what he’d been hiding for years. 

A sorcerer’s life was always full of regrets; regret for not being normal, regret over their fallen comrades, regret over not taking time to themselves, regret for not being able to fall in love freely.

“What good is spending time thinking about regrets anyway?” he asks finally. “There’s nothing we can do about them. We learn to accept them and move on.”

“Have you? Accepted, that is?” the shadow asks back. Nanami stares at it, feeling a jolt pass through him.

“Of course I have. Now unless time travel is something the purgatory realm offers, I don’t see the point. I can’t go back and undo the things I regret. So of course I learned to accept them.”

“Then why do you never allow yourself to think about them? If you’ve really accepted them, then thinking about them shouldn’t bring that feeling of guilt in your chest, should it?” There’s a sly tone to the shadow’s question as it asks.

Taken aback, Nanami glares at it but doesn’t answer. Anyone who had lived his life wouldn’t question the guilt that accompanied his regrets. It was an endless cycle, reminding himself that most of the things that had happened weren't things he could have necessarily controlled yet it weighed down heavily on him. And how could they not? He was there when those awful things happened. It was a natural human tendency to wonder if the outcome may have been changed if he had done something differently.

The shadow does not fail to notice the less-than-kind expression on his face. “The only reason I ask, sorcerer, is because many try and fail to escape the purgatory realm even after agreeing to face their deepest regrets. Most believe it is coming to terms with them when in fact, it’s more than that.” 

It glides slightly closer to him before continuing. “It’s not enough that you come to terms with your regrets. But it’s learning to recognize that despite everything, despite all the guilt and unhappiness, life is still worth living. Many do not make it to that stage, and if that concept fails to take root, then the realm decides your life isn’t worth saving, and it will do what it was created to do, and end your life for you. You must want to live so much that all the regrets that feel like failures become reasons to live.”

“That’s unrealistic. Shouldn’t you have to find new things to live for instead? Who would want to continue living because of their regrets?”

“And what’s the guarantee those new things won’t become regrets later? Life doesn’t necessarily go linearly, does it? Something that brought you joy one day can make you miserable the next. It’s the same with people and relationships, isn’t it? You could have the best relationship with someone, and one day, they may hurt you, or you hurt them, and that too becomes a regret. Depending on the situation, it may be superficial or deep. If that person means enough to you, you won’t end the relationship because of that single regret, do you? Sometimes people experience multiple regrets with the people in their lives. It’s the same with wanting to live. You can keep finding new reasons to live, but ultimately, it’s realizing that life is worth living even with regrets.”

Nanami ponders the words, the frown on his face deepening. So many people in his life had come and gone. Some had been his choice, others due to circumstances beyond his control. He thinks about everyone he currently knows, and the shadow chuckles at his state. “I promise I’m not speaking in riddles meant to be solved. This journey is different for everyone. For some, it’s simple. Others need a few reminders about how much opportunity life offers.”

Nanami paces up and down the aisles of the bookstore, contemplating. “And what does facing one’s regrets look like?”

“It’s different for each person that enters the Trials. Some say it’s a withered garden, and they need to tend to the most neglected flowers and once the garden is in bloom, they can go back to living. Others are the only doctor in a hospital full of sick patients and don’t get respite until everyone is nursed back to health. But I will say that not everyone makes it through. Some become consumed by what they see or begin to feel hopeless with the amount of work necessary to survive. You have an additional restriction of being at the mercy of however long the neutralized energy remains in that charm of yours. So I’d say to not waste it much longer.”

Nanami glances at the aum charm on his wrist and feels a tinge of hope bubble inside him. He tries to think optimistically. Finding reasons to live even with the regrets…he hadn’t considered it that way. 

“You also have an unexpected plus. You have someone who desperately hopes you might come back to them. Most don’t necessarily have that privilege. The additional incentive will hopefully allow you to navigate this quicker.” The shadow adds trying to gauge his reaction.

Nanami again looks doubtfully at the charm. Deep in his heart, wedged away was a little box he hadn’t dared to open or peek at since he locked it away at 16. Even the sheer idea of it felt taboo, and he hadn’t allowed himself to dwell on it. But he allowed himself a moment of guilty pleasure, wondering if y/n had received his message by now. What would be your reaction? Shock? Happiness? Would you be crying tears of joy? 

He tries to imagine your face, putting together fragments of the various expressions he had seen during your time together. The lines of dissatisfaction that tugged at the corners of your mouth when he kept saying logistically sorcerers didn’t live very long, the glitter in your eyes when Itadori-Kun brought back a pastry for you, or the melancholic way the tip of your nose turned red when you watched those sad movies when he was teaching you how to channel your energy into the cursed doll. The day you had chosen Sophie’s Choice was a hard day overall, with him coming back from a mission only to see you, Ino-Kun, and Itadori-kun squished together on the sofa, the doll on your lap, all of you with tears in your eyes. 

Would you have cried like that for him after learning about his supposed death? Or maybe it was more intense than that? The kind of ugly crying where one trembles and can’t catch their breath? Or maybe there hadn’t been any crying at all. He shakes his head. He had no evidence that he had meant anything to you at all. The aum charms had been put on Ino-Kun and Itadori-Kun as well. Yet part of him hoped you had felt some kind of grief, that he had meant something to you, even if it was just as your teacher. 

In any case, whether or not you had cried was irrelevant. As the shadow had pointed out, it was thanks to your charm that he was now alive, and that wasn’t a thing to be taken lightly.

“You called it the Trials?” he asks The Mediator, who nods. 

“I will have to send you into another space where you can deal with your regrets. It’s rumored to be inside one’s heart but so far, no one has been able to confirm that. Now remember sorcerer. Once inside, you must look at your regrets, each one, learn the lesson it provides, and accept that you can live, despite having it. This isn’t about coming to terms with your regrets. It’s about understanding that your life isn’t any lesser to live just because you have them.”

Still not entirely convinced he knew what the shadow meant, he nods shakily. 

“Take your time, but don’t dawdle. You don’t have forever. And when in doubt, remember the reason you’re alive right now.”

“Have people have been successful before?”

“Indeed. And went on to live very happy lives, in fact even fuller lives than they had before.”

Nanami feels his pulse quicken. He had more questions but it felt pointless to ask them. As the shadow had pointed out, he was wasting precious neutralized cursed energy. He can feel his earlier dream of dying, of fading away into oblivion, slipping away like water through his fingers. 

“Ready?” The shadow’s silvery eyes gleam at him, waiting. 

With resolve, Nanami nods. It felt daunting, but he knows now he has to try. That there might be things he still needed to experience in the world of the living. 

The Mediator gives him a nod of finality before raising a shadowy limb from its side, looking eerily like the Grim Reaper for a moment, black smoky fingers curling up into its palm. Nanami turned to look behind him, transfixed, as what appeared to be a rectangle of light began to materialize. It had a strange metallic look, and as it grew larger, he could have sworn he heard the faint pulsation of a heart fill the space in the bookstore. Perhaps he really was going into a dimension of his own heart. The thought filled him with wonder, something he hadn’t felt since the loss of innocence during his teen years. 

He knew from a medical standpoint that his heart would be the same as any other human being, but he couldn’t help but try to imagine what it looked like in this dimension. Was it warm? Cold? Would he get a garden or a hospital? Or something more wondrous and complex than either of those? The rectangle finally stops growing and hovers a few inches off the ground and Nanami chances a peek inside. It looked curiously smooth and paved from his position, and appeared to have light reflecting inside it, and again, he heard the undeniable sound of a heart beating, like it was trying to urge him to look inside himself.

“This is where we part, sorcerer. I hope we do not meet again.” The shadow bows to him and Nanami returns the gesture, pushing his glasses back onto the bridge of his nose as he straightened. 

“Thank you for the guidance. I feel a little less willing to die at this moment.”

“That is reassuring to hear. Your initial attitude had me worried. Now go, there isn’t any time to waste.”

Nanami looks at the bright geometric patch before squaring his shoulders and purposefully stepping forward towards the metallic, reflective light. Y/n’s face burns in his mind as the sound of a heartbeat fills his ears and he walks through the door into what lay beyond. 

Once inside, he chances a glance backward and sees the portal sealing off, the briefest glimpse of the shadow creature catching the corner of his eye before it closes into a smooth surface of reflective glass. The dimension is plunged into silence, deafening and slightly unsettling. The blond sorcerer moves forward, taking in his new surroundings, astonished by what he saw.

His Trial was a smooth, long, corridor that appeared to be made of endless panels of mirrors from top to bottom. His shoes clicked on the polished glass as he moved forward. What was he supposed to do? Unlike the Trials that had been described to him, there was nothing here that needed his care or nurturing. He appeared to be alone, with nothing but his reflection for company. He ventures a few steps forward, thinking.

“The scenarios described to me said I needed to take care of whatever I found here,” he mused out loud, continuing to walk, randomly looking up, down, and to the sides where his glass image followed suit. “But I don’t see anything here. Wait, don’t tell me…” he almost laughs aloud, Y/n’s chief complaint echoing in his head. “Is the person I have to take care of myself?” he asks the mirror dimension. 

Immediately, the panel of mirrors on his left changed. While the ceiling, floor, and right wall retained his reflection, the left began to show swirls of color and distorted shapes. Fascinated, Nanami steps closer to the one nearest to him and peers into the glass. The abstract splotches instantly form a crisp image, playing like a scene from a movie and Nanami is astonished at what it shows him. A young boy with a tuft of messy blond hair ran towards a lake in happy abandon, water wings around his thin arms as he splashed in. Nanami’s gut twists as he remembers this day. The day so long ago, when he had learned that things such as curses really did exist, that they were not imaginary misfortunes cast by witches onto unsuspecting people like his storybooks had said. 

He watched his younger self floating at the surface of the water, his family a short distance away as they set up lunch on a picnic table. One of his cousins joins him shortly, giving chase as he lets out a peal of laughter and tries to kick away from him. Knowing what was going to happen, Nanami watched his younger self helplessly as he swam towards the middle of the lake, a brave 6-year-old unaware of the darker things that lurked in places that held negative emotions.

Unbeknownst to his family at the time, a girl had drowned there that past summer, something that Nanami had unearthed years later after this incident had occurred. His younger self now reached the middle of the lake and was suddenly lost, dragged under by an invisible force. The little boy blinks in shock, then opens his mouth and lets out a muffled scream as he sees the ugly curse that had caught hold of his foot. It grins, showing off too many teeth as he struggles, its pale green skin glimmering grotesquely under the watery light before he manages to kick the curse with his foot, swimming to the surface, coughing and spluttering, desperately trying to make his way back to land. His cousin looks at him in confusion as he swims in the opposite direction. 

“Get out of the water! Get out!” The shrill screams echoed off the lake as he finally made it to the edge and hauled himself out, laying on the grass shivering. He watches in panic as his cousin stays where he is, treading water and not making any attempts to come back. His father sprints over to check on the situation looking alarmed.

“Kento, what’s going on?”

“There’s something in the water! Tell aniki to get out!” Younger Nanami practically yells, trying to put distance between himself and the lake. His cousin shrugs, then takes a breath and goes underwater. When he resurfaces, he shakes his head. 

“There’s nothing in here! Kento did you see a huge catfish or something and freak out?” he taunts, a smirk appearing on his face. The blond boy shakes his head no vigorously. 

“There’s something there! I swear!”

“You’re just making things up! If you’re too scared, then stay there, I wanna swim.”

Nanami watches his younger self shrink, drawing his knees up to his chest in terror, watching his cousin swim fearlessly in the water. However, nothing happens. Several minutes pass by before his cousin finally comes back out, hair dripping. “Fraidy cat,” he shoots at him before joining the others at the picnic table. Younger Nanami walks to the table too, determined to get his point across.

“There really was something there!” 

His mother reaches out to pat his head. “It may have been a large fish Kento. It’s ok to admit it startled you,” she says emphatically, and the younger boy’s expression drops. Adult Nanami felt it inside his chest, that feeling of knowing they didn’t believe him, and that it was the beginning of almost a decade of them convinced he was a liar, saying things for attention. Younger Nanami becomes quiet after that, sitting in defeat at the table, the fresh barbeque and corn on the cob tasteless in his mouth. 

What was he supposed to learn from this? Adult Nanami pulls away from the mirror, feeling his heart tighten, feeling sad for the little boy sitting so dejectedly at the table. He takes a deep breath, knowing this was the moment he started to not trust his family, his parents, with any of the things he saw. The curses only worsened from there, almost like because he had seen one, all of them suddenly felt comfortable revealing themselves to him. His chest felt heavy with the grief filling him. The shadow had said to take the lesson from the memory and move on.

He leans against the opposite panel of mirrors, trying to get his feelings into check. Regrets from that day…he regretted scaring his family. He regretted being able to see that curse in the water. He regretted finding out he was different from everyone else that day. And how were these regrets supposed to become reasons to live? He racks his brain. He tried to warn his cousin about the unseen danger. That shaped him into becoming the responsible one in any situation. He had to be aware of what the others couldn’t see. It made him protective. It made him want his students to have a better childhood than he did. Was that it? Him turning into a guardian for everyone around him was a reason to live?

And just like that as the thought came into his head, the mirror began to frost at the edges, becoming more and more opaque as it covered the length of the panel before the memory became fully obscured, no longer visible to his eyes. 

Nanami swallows, still slightly unsettled by what he saw. It had been one thing to experience that as a child, but watching it as an adult, seeing how the people who were supposed to be looking after him brushed away his fears like they were nothing, hurt, even now. Part of him wanted to hug his younger self, to tell him he had become someone that everyone depended on, that someone wished for him to stay alive so hard that she put a neutralizing charm on him and saved his life. 

Was this how the rest of his Trial would be? If the first memory it showed him was this one, Nanami knew it would only get worse from here. His being felt painfully raw after seeing that childhood recollection, and he was unsure if he wanted to see more of that. The events that occurred at Jujutsu High when he was a teenager were unavoidable; he had been prepared for those to crop up based on the conversation he’d had with the shadow, but to see himself defenseless, as a child, with no one on his side was already breaking down his psyche. 

As he gathered his will to push on, he recalled the shadow saying this Trial was so he could face his deepest regrets. Deepest, not every. Could he have possibly found a way to get out of here faster? Nanami knew he had regrets that ran deeper than the day at the lake. If he approached each mirror, he would know which regret it was showing him. What if he could skip over the ones that weren’t as bad and only get to the ones that had really impacted him?

Motivated by the idea, he peeks into the next mirror panel, the colors and shapes coming into focus and he sees himself at 11, seated on the sofa with his parents, his dad looking stern, his mother exasperated. Recalling this event, Nanami quickly walks away from the mirror to the next one. Dealing with his regrets should not involve also dealing with his emotional trauma. That was too much. 

He stands in front of the next mirror and waits for the memory to come into focus. However, to his dismay, the colors remain as jumbled objects colliding with each other, refusing to coalesce. Hoping this was just a coincidence, he moves to the next one and is met with the same view, abstract movements, and blurs of action, refusing to show themselves to him. 

A regret is a regret, no matter how big, perhaps. Or maybe, the mirror dimension had determined what his deepest regrets already were, and he would have to face whatever it threw at him. 

With a sigh of defeat, Nanami turns back and goes to the mirror he was hoping to avoid. His heart was racing at the thought of reliving that day, but he was left with no choice. Once directly opposite to it, he braces himself for the memory. 

“Kento, this cannot go on any further. Your mother and I…we’re at a loss about what to do.”

“I’m sorry otosan.” His 11-year-old self keeps his gaze trained downwards, observing his legs that were swinging off the edge of the sofa. “But I mean it, it was there, trying to hurt my classmate.”

“Kento.” His mother leans towards him. “I am not sure what to believe anymore. These…incidents. These…stories. They’re becoming a more frequent occurrence. The doctors are baffled.”

Nanami’s dad, a man resembling him now in terms of height and build, tsks and shakes his head. “They’ve suggested medications, talking to a therapist-”

“The therapist wasn’t helping. They never believed anything I said.” The small boy appears to shrink a few inches in between his parents, his little fingers now fidgeting with each other as he speaks his words. 

“Kento, the problem is, we’re having difficulty believing you as well.” His mother looks like she’s about to cry and it fills his younger self with guilt, that he’s making her this way over him. “The doctors believe you have schizophrenia. It would explain you seeing things that aren’t there-”

“But they are there,” little Nanami insists desperately, looking at his parents with tears in his eyes. “They’re there, but it feels like I’m the only person that can see them.” He sees the look his parents exchange and feels like his worst fear is being confirmed; that his parents thought he was going crazy.

Adult Nanami steps away from the mirror, feeling sweat on his forehead. He feels his heart hammering in his chest and he slides down the smooth glass onto the floor trying to not fall apart. It was behind him. He had put this all behind him. He had vowed to never remember any of this ever again. It was why his will stated all his possessions should be donated to charity. He didn’t have a family. Had no one checking in on him. No one to visit during the holidays, save the other staff from the school. 

Jujutsu High had been both a blessing and a curse. But Nanami hadn’t felt like he was part of a family in decades. Hadn’t allowed himself to want that simple wish because it hurt too much. The aum charm swings against his leg, a pendulum reminding him of the limited time he has left. He realizes the day spent at the amusement park had been the first time in his adult life that he had allowed himself to indulge in that little fantasy. That the little group he had trained had somehow become his family of misfits. It wasn’t until now that he realized how much he wanted that to become a reality. That he wanted to belong.

Taking deep calming breaths, he gets to his feet, not totally prepared to face the memory again but is astonished to see the mirror has already frosted up, the memory blocked and gone. Admitting he wanted a family…another lesson learned. 

Unsteadily, Nanami moves on, hoping the next memory isn’t as brutal as the first two.  

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[morganski-19]

It’s a month after Starcourt when Steve realizes that Robin isn’t leaving. That she meant what she said about sticking around. That they were trauma bonded in two ways now. One in the average minimum wage worker way. The second in the way no one should ever have to be. 

If he had the choice to do it all over again. He’d never ask her to get involved. Would have told Dustin to wait until his shift is over, and then they could go figure it out. It might have taken longer. They might have never figured it out at all. But then another person wouldn’t have been dragged into the bullshit. Robin wouldn’t have nightmares anymore. 

She wouldn’t find herself on his doorstep at two in the morning, drenched in sweat from a mix of the heat and the fear. Bike fallen on the ground by her feet. He wouldn’t have to keep lying that she woke him up. Even if they both knew he hadn’t fallen asleep before four a.m. since that day. 

He won’t have someone to call when he wakes up screaming. Because he can’t call the kids, it’s not their job to calm him down. That’s his. Their phone calls don’t go both ways. Robin’s do though. She insisted on it. 

Worst part of it all is that Steve doesn’t want Robin to leave. But knows she will. This is just until the nightmares stop, then she’ll realize that he’s not worth it anymore. Just like the rest of them. It’s always until the person gets what they need out of Steve, and then they’re gone. No one ever stays because of who he is. 

It was clear the day he dropped Tommy and Carol. How they ran away like flies when you took away the food. They were terrible people, but they were his friends. His only friends. Since elementary school. It all seemed so trivial back then, but he appreciated them for what they were.

Regret is a funny thing. He doesn’t regret dropping them. It would have happened eventually. He regrets the hole that it left though. The emptiness that he’s been running from for a while. They filled the house when his parents were away. Which was more frequent now that he was an adult. They didn’t need to look after him that much anymore. It was his job now. 

Robin made it her job too. Without him asking. He never would have. But when they were both ready to get back to work, she was right there at his door with a resume in hand. Ready to get them both a job together again. Why would they ever need to work at two separate places? They were a package deal now. 

For now. Steve reminded himself. There will come a day that Robin will see that Steve isn’t much different from the kid she hated in high school. He’s still rich, and messy. Still can be really mean when he doesn’t mean to be. He’s sorry for it now. But that doesn’t change the fact that it still happens. 

Yet, like clockwork, she keeps coming around. Keeps calling at the same time every night to talk for hours when they should be asleep. Makes him realize how much he’s going to miss this when it inevitably ends. 

He’d prefer for it to happen rather than later. So he can be less attached. So it will hurt less. 

“How are you still here?” Steve asks one night. When the room is light enough for the nightmares to creep away, but dark enough to still hide the the fear on his face. 

“What do you mean?” Robin asks. Like her being here at all isn’t some big miracle. 

“You know who I was in high school. You know the things I said. The things I did.”

Robin props herself up on her elbows. “And? You’re not like that anymore.”

Steve shakes his head. She’s not getting it. “Part of me still is. Somewhere. I still snap and insult, and be just mean when I feel like I need to be. Even though I don’t half the time. It’s like a reflex I can’t get rid of. I might act like it, but I’m not much different than I was back then.”

“You are,” she says with absolute certainty. 

“No, I’m not.”

“Yes, you are.” Robin’s face comes into view. “I might have not known you that well, but I can still see it. In the way you carry yourself, in the way you act around those kids. The person you were back in highschool wouldn’t spare them a second glance. Wouldn’t spare me a second glance. The minute you walked into the ice cream parlor wearing those stupid shorts and dumb hat and saw me behind the counter, it would have been over. I would have been the subject of your torture. But I wasn’t.”

Robin takes Steve’s wrists and pulls him into a sitting position. Looking at him like she means what she says. He believes her. 

“Instead, you were nice to me. Considerate. Snappy sure, but in the way that secretly made me laugh. And never mean, not really. Even when I gave you every chance to be. I was waiting for who you were in history class to show up and he never did. Instead I saw the real you for the first time and I liked it. You are so much more than you give yourself credit for.”

“But what I said-.”

“Is in the past. The person who said those things wouldn’t have made fun of my crush on Tammy Tompson as fast as you did. Or accepted the fact that I liked girls at all. Might have done a lot of things I’m not sure of.” She pauses, swallowing. “When I told you, I was so scared. I had no clue how you would react. And you have no idea how relieved I was when it played out the way it did. You’re the first person I’ve told about this. You don’t know what that means for me.”

Steve stares at her. “I didn’t know that.”

She shrugs. “Yeah well. Now you do.”

“Why me?”

“Well I sort of had to reject you for one,” she jokes. “But, after I saw the way that you protected Dustin and Erica, me, without even blinking. Something about you just felt safe. I know that’s risky as hell and might have not worked out with most people. I just had a feeling that it would work out with you.”

“I’m glad you told me,” he whispers. “I’m glad that I was able to be that first person. And that you felt that you could tell me at all. After all the shit I said.”

“Again, you’re different now. Intentionally different. I might have just been a bystander in the Steve Harrington experience until recently, but I can see that. I hope you can too.”

[afictionaladventure16]

Hey! I love your Tim Bradford x teen! Reader fics! Was wondering could you do another one? Reader reconnects with someone they met through the system who's had a rough go. Maybe they were in the same house for a while and relied on each other a lot in that house to keep each other safe. But as they reconnect reader doesn't realise how toxic the relationship is. Tamara knows the dodgy stuff that the kid gets up to from her time in the system and warns Lucy and Tim because she doesn't want reader to fall back into bad habits with them. Maybe reader gets in trouble and calls Tamara to save them?

Reconnections and Regrets (Tim Bradford x Teen!Foster!Reader)

The Rookie Masterlist

Warnings: Mentions of guns and drugs

Summary: After trying to reconnect with people in the past, y/n realizes quickly why the past should stay in the past.

Author's note: I feel like this one wasn't the best fic I've done so far. I really liked this idea for the fic, though! I hope you enjoy it! Send in some more Tim Bradford x Teen!reader angsty fics!

You had promised yourself that you wouldn’t get back into your old habits. 

That you would forget your past and move forward, just like Tamara had done, and just as every other kid within the system wishes they could do. To have the ability to find someone to take you under their wing and help you forget your past. An opportunity to start over. 

But here you were, texting an old friend with plans to catch up later that afternoon. You couldn’t help but smile at the messages, you were excited to catch up with old friends. But most of all, you were excited to catch up with a special someone that you hadn’t seen since Tim took you in. 

The special someone was a boy named Jacob, the two of you had been in a foster home together when you were younger and he protected you from your foster father and well, you tried to do the same. You couldn’t help but develop feelings for him over the years. 

The last you heard about him was that he was living with his cousin, from what you knew, this cousin was bad news and you could not help but worry about Jacob living there. Especially since he stopped responding to your messages when he moved in with his cousin. It felt like he had just pushed you away. 

“What are you smiling about?” Tamara asked as she sat on the couch beside you. You had come over since Tim wasn’t home yet, and well, since Lucy and Tim were dating it now felt like you had two homes instead of one. 

“Nothing,” you responded. 

You could feel Tamara peeking over your shoulder to look at your phone, you quickly locked it and put it on your lap. 

“Please don’t tell me you’re talking to Jessica,” she pleaded. 

“Alright, I won’t.” 

She rolled her eyes, “Y/N, you know how I feel about her.” 

“Look, I’m just trying to reconnect, what harm-” 

“You know what can happen. You gotten out of that life and now you’re trying to go back? You get Starbucks on the daily, you’re in the cheer team and you go to a self-defense class for crying out loud. You’re not the same girl you used to be, so don’t think they’ll be coming at you with open arms.” 

You gave her a small glare, “Stop acting like you don’t think about going back to see your old friends from time to time.” You got up from the couch, “Maybe instead of focusing so much on my life, you should take a look at yours first.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Tamara asked as she followed you as you walked towards the door, “Where are you going?” 

“Out,” you stated as you walked out of the apartment. 

“Fuck,” Tamara exclaimed. Maybe she should’ve kept her mouth shut, but she felt she had to say something, otherwise, you would end up hurt. But now she felt like she had made things worse. 

On the other hand, you were annoyed by how she was right and maybe you got angry with her out of fear. Fear that maybe your friends, like Tamara had said, wouldn’t be as inviting as you think they would be. You hadn’t just changed through your personality but through your appearance too. You now had someone who would take you shopping for clothes you always wanted to wear, but never did out of fear of them getting stolen or taken from you. 

You acted like a completely different person now. A person who learned to trust a little more easily and you now weren’t afraid to just be yourself. 

On my way over, you sent it to Jessica. 

It wouldn’t take long for you to get back to the old neighborhood, it was a twenty-minute bus ride away. Or thirty minutes walking, but with the Los Angeles heat, you’d take your chances with the bus. 

~~ 

A couple of hours passed, and Tamara had not received anything from you. Beginning to worry had already surpassed, she was the definition of completely terrified of what could go wrong. She should’ve texted Tim or Lucy the second you left, but she wanted to give you the benefit of the doubt, but not the guilt was eating away at her. She let out a frustrated groan and called Lucy. 

Lucy picked up after a few rings, “What’s up?” 

“Look before you start yelling, I was trying to warn her okay?” 

Lucy furrowed her eyebrows, “What happened?” 

“Please don’t be mad, but Y/N was here and I saw her messaging one of her old friends and we got into an argument about it and now she’s not responding and I’m scared she’s gonna fall back into some bad habits, especially because this girl is known for doing certain things.” 

“How long ago did she leave?” Lucy asked. 

“Like two hours ago,” Tamara confessed. 

“And you’re barely calling me?” Lucy raised her voice, but quickly let out a sigh, “Do you think she went to see this friend?” 

“I know she did,” Tamamra hesitantly said. 

“Alright, for now, we’ll just see things out. We can’t just go there all guns blazing when there is no trouble,” Lucy stated. Although, she wanted to go all guns blazing because she was worried for Y/N’s safety. 

“Are we going to tell Tim?” 

“Tim already knows,” Tim announced. Tamara could hear the anger in his voice, and the fact that he never said anything until now, meant that he was indeed angry. 

“Look, just keep us updated, let us know if you hear anything from her, alright?” Lucy said. 

“Alright,” Tamara hung up the phone. 

Lucy didn’t say anything to Tim, she waited until he did, but he remained silent. 

Lucy let out a deep breath, “do you want to talk about it?” 

“Talk about what?” Tim asked. 

Lucy rolled her eyes, “About Y/N sneaking off to see her old friends? I mean, it’s obvious that you’re angry.” 

“I’m not angry.” 

“You’re not?” She asked in almost disbelief. 

“I’m disappointed. I thought she trusted me enough to tell me things, well, I thought we had gotten to that point. Now I feel like we hadn’t made any progress at all.” 

“You know that’s not true,” Lucy began to say. 

“Is it?” Tim cut her off, “because from my perspective, it doesn’t look good. I love this kid and I want to be more than just another foster home for her, but almost every time we get close to making a breakthrough she pushes me away.” 

Lucy sighed, she felt that maybe with her experience with Tamara, she would know what to say, but somehow this was different. “Just give her some time,” Lucy suggested. 

Tim wanted to say that he had given her all the time in the world, but that made it sound like he was giving up, and he didn’t want to give up. He just wished he knew what to do. 

~~ 

You had been with Jessica walking around your old neighborhood for the past two hours, hoping to run into Jacob and it didn’t take you too long. 

From a distance, you can see Jacob at the park talking to some guys that looked to be older. 

Jessica smirked as she watched you stare at Jacob from a distance, “you know he still asks about you.” 

You scoffed, “really?” she gave you a nod, “yet he won’t return a text.” 

“He thinks he’s too tough for all that shit now, he even dropped out of school,” Jessica commented. She walked in front of you, “We should go over there,” she suggested. 

Now that you were here, you had a sort of fear lingering in the back of your head. You knew the chances of hanging out with Jacob meant that you could get into trouble, but that voice inside of your head just wanted to talk to him once more. 

You shrugged, “I don’t know.” 

“Oh come on, Y/N. Don’t act like your main purpose for hitting me up was so you could see him again,” Jessica grabbed your hand and began leading you to the park. That fear within the back of your head was beginning to get louder the closer you got to Jacob. 

“Maybe I should go home,” you began to say. Jacob was only steps away and at the sound of your voice he quickly turned around. 

“No way,” he said with a smile on his face. “Ain’t no way she came back to see us,” he exclaimed as you sighed and walked up to him. “For a second I was beginning to think you were too good for us.” 

You rolled your eyes at his comment, “How you’ve been?” you asked. 

He glanced over at his friends then diverted his eyes back at you, “I’ve been decent.” Jessica walked over to his friends, of course she would know who they were. She was quick to strike up a conversation with them. Jacob took a couple of steps away from the group, gesturing for you to get closer. 

“I heard you’re staying with your cousin,” you began. 

“You shouldn’t have come back, Y/N,” Jacob warned. “You got out and I’m proud that you did.” 

“It’s not too late for you to do the same,” you commented. 

He shook his head, “I’m too deep in this shit.” You knew what that meant. You knew that his chances of getting out of this life were gone. “You really shouldn’t have come back, people know you’re staying with a cop. My cousin knows,” he began. 

Your heart began to race, “Why did you stop texting me back?” You asked. You had to ask before you left, you knew his cousin had beef with cops and anyone associated with them. 

“You left and well, I had to go with my cousin and that meant-” 

“I know,” you interrupted, not wanting to hear him say it. To hear him say that he stopped talking to you not just for your own good, but his as well. 

“You really should go,” he began to say. From the distance you could hear the roar of an engine, it caught Jacob’s attention. “Fuck,” he whispered. 

“Sounds like your cousin is back,” One of the other guys began to say. 

You looked over at Jessica, “we should go,” you said. 

Jessica opened her mouth to say something but was interrupted by the roar of the engine, a second later a car came into view and parked in the parking lot of the park. 

A guy came out of the car and began making his way over to the group, “So the rumors are true,” he began to say. “Jacob’s little girlfriend is back,” He smirked. 

“Hey, Frankie,” you said. 

“Is that all I get? Hey Frankie?” He scoffed before looking over at Jacob, “I need you to come with me,” he began as he glanced over at you, “and bring your little girlfriend.” 

“No, Frankie. You already know she liv-” 

“Did you just tell me no?” Frankie interrupted Jacob. “Do you not remember the last time I had to put you in your place?” Jacob clenched his fists, “or do you need a refresher?” 

“Fine,” Jacob grabbed a hold of your hand, “let’s go.” 

“Wait, what? I-I need to go home,” you pleaded. 

“No, no,” Frankie began, “you’re coming with us now.” 

You felt your anxiety rise within you, this is what Tamara had warned her about. This is what she was afraid of and now it was too late. 

“Jacob,” you whispered to him as soon as you stepped away from Frankie, “Where are we going?” 

“I don’t know,” he whispered. “I told you, you shouldn’t have come back.” 

You remained silent, the best thing you could do right now was to stay calm. 

Frankie drove the two of you two a house down the street, he led the two of you inside, “Dude, what the fuck, why did you bring us here?” 

“I told you I wanted to show the business,” Frankie said. 

“And you thought it was wise to bring her here?” Jacob commented. You looked around to see equipment you couldn’t recognize and powder inside blenders. You knew what was happening here wasn’t good at all, it was a lab of some sorts. A shitty one at that. 

“I want her to see what we’re doing, if she says anything then I know who ratted us out,” Frankie stated. 

Jacob shook his head, “that is the stupidest thing you have ever said. I swear you’ve lost it since you started using.” 

“What the fuck did you just say to me?” 

“Did you not hear yourself? You want her to purposely rat us out, for what? For us to lose everything?” 

Frankie pulled out a gun and aimed it at you, “So then should I just shoot her?” 

Your eyes widen, “What the fuck, Frankie!” Jacob exclaimed as he stood in front of you. You clung to Jacob’s arm, you could feel tears beginning to well up in your eyes. 

One of the guys from earlier came running in, “We got a problem.” 

Frankie sighed and put his gun back in his belt, “what?” 

“Enrique is here and I don’t think he wants to talk anymore.” 

Frankie looked at the man with anger in his eyes, “Stay here,” he told Jacob before walking out front. You pulled out your phone as soon as Frankie left. 

“What are you doing?” Jacob asked. 

“I-I was in over my head coming here,” You began as you looked for Tamara’s contact. 

Jacob rolled his eyes, “Calling your cop dad is just going to get me locked up,” He commented. 

“You wanted me to go, so now I’m calling my friend to get me the fuck out of here,” you stated. You heard a gunshot coming from outside, before you could even ask Jacob anything, he ran outside. You called Tamara, hoping she would pick up fast and that she wouldn’t say a word about this to Tim. 

“Y/N!” Tamara exclaimed. 

“Tamara,” you choked out, “I-I need your help.” 

Tamara face fell, “Where are you?” 

“I don’t know, we were at the old neighborhood and Frankie showed up and he-he’s on something and it looked like he wanted to show Jacob a-” Another gunshot rang outside, you jumped to the sound. You ran from your spot in the living room, you found a bathroom in the hallway. 

“What was that?” Tamara asked. 

You closed the door behind you, locking it before jumping inside the tub. “Please, help me.” 

“Okay, okay, stay on the phone. I’m gonna connect Lucy okay?” Tamara quickly added Lucy to the call. “Please pick up,” Tamara said to herself. 

“Tamara,” Lucy began, “you hear anything from Y/N?” 

“Lucy,” you said. 

“Y/N?” 

“Lucy, I added you to the call,” Tamara explained. 

Lucy quickly put the phone on speaker, Tim was quick to understand what was going on. 

“Y/N, Hon are you okay?” Tim asked. 

Just hearing his voice made you feel even more guilty, you felt the tears fall down your cheeks, “I’m sorry,” you choked out. 

“Y/N, honey, it’s okay, right now I need you to tell me if you’re okay, are you hurt in any way” Tim reassured. 

“N-No,” you stated. 

“Good, where are you?” 

“I-I don’t know. Some house in the old neighborhood.” 

“Y/N, do you think you can share your location with me?” Lucy suggested. 

You placed the phone on speaker as you went on your phone to share your location, “There,” you stated. 

“There it is,” Lucy said. 

“Let’s go,” Tim said as he placed the shop in drive. 

Another gunshot ranged through the air, “What was that?” Tamara asked. 

“That sounded like a gun,” Tim stated as he drove. 

You stayed on the phone with them until they had gotten there. You had hung up the phone once they arrived, You could hear the gunshots coming from outside, meaning that Lucy and Tim’s presence wasn’t welcomed. Sirens were coming from the distance, you felt a little at ease knowing that backup was coming. 

Still, you remained in the bathroom until it was safe. The shots subsided and you heard footsteps within the house. A few seconds later someone knocked on the door, “Y/N?” Tim called out. 

You quickly got up from your position in the bathtub and opened the door. Before Tim could even react, you had your arms wrapped around his torso, he let out a relieved sigh as he hugged you back. 

“I’m sorry,” you cried out. 

“It’s okay,” He said as he gently rubbed your back. “It’s alright, let’s just go home.” 

You agreed, following him outside. You looked around for Jacob, making eye contact with him as he sat inside one of the shops. Tim had noticed, he knew that you needed this closure with your past, “hey, roll down the window,” he told the officer who sat inside the shop. He did as he was told. 

Jacob stayed silent, “I guess this is goodbye,” you began to say. 

“Next time, stay out of this neighborhood,” he warned. You gave him a nod, “And if there is a next time, I probably won’t be as inviting.” 

Tim gestured for the cop to roll up the window, he knew you didn’t need to hear more. “There won’t be a next time,” you whispered as you walked away from the shop. 

“Y/n!” you heard Tamara call out. 

“Tamara!” You ran up to her, she engulfed you in a hug. “I’m sorry for everything I said.” 

“It’s the past now,” she said. “Let’s just forget about it,” she said as she let go of the hug. 

“Tamara is gonna take you home until my end of shit,” Tim stated. “We’ll talk then, alright?” 

You gave him a nod, following Tamara to her car. 

“If there is anything I learned today, it’s that the past is the past,” you said once you got in the car. “And you’re right, I’m not the same girl I was a year ago.” 

“We’re lucky,” Tamara began, “Not a lot of us get this opportunity in life and when we do, we do everything we can to not go back.” Tamara started the car. You knew that you wouldn’t come back to this life, but something within you was going to miss it. Miss the little moments of happiness that made you feel like you had a home, but now you had an actual home. It wasn’t the ideal home, but it was a home and you had someone who gave you a sense of family even if it wasn’t picture-perfect. 

[annakaspring]

Officially the longest rant I've ever posted

Snater mauraders fans literally being the most shallow people on earth.

I will see them saying Snape deserved to be targeted and bullied. And the reason is always the same.

"he was creepy" how was he creepy? "He was obsessed with Lily and possessive of her."

oh, you mean like how James threatened to physically assault Lily if she didn't go on a date with him while simultaneously bullying her friend? While Severus did as Lily asked and left her alone when she said their friendship was over.

"He was racist." No, comparing the word mudblood a fictional slur to a real life racial slur is so ignorant, problematic and also completely disregards that there could be actual racism in the Harry Potter universe. And Snape is not a pureblood in fact he is way more muggle born than half blood as he grew up in a muggle neighborhood, wearing muggle clothes. Is what Snape called Lily right? No. could she have still been hurt? Yes. But I see the same people who bash Snape, Stan Malfoy who is canonically a pureblood who hates muggle-borns. Like be so for fucking for real rn.

"He was a nazi" Again, comparing a fictional "cult" to real life devastating history is ignorant and frankly ridiculous. But let's just humor that idea for a moment. Then why do I see maurader fans idolizing characters like Barry Crouch Jr? Or Regulus Black? Who not only joined the death eaters just like Severus did but were privileged purebloods who unlike Severus had money, a proper home, family. And in Barty Jr's case he is literally canonically evil.

"He was a bully." So was James, so was Sirius.And both James and Sirius are canonically described as being obviously well loved and privileged while Snape "so obviously lacked" that. Severus had reasons to be cold, stand offish and rude. had a terrible home life, neglectful if not straight up abusive parents, a single friend, depressed and was poor. What was James's excuse?

And I will see ppl who loooove Draco Malfoy yet despise Snape. Draco Malfoy, who is repeatedly voiced his pureblood prejudice so much as saying he wished death upon Hermione Granger simply for her blood status, was a HUGE bully, surely bigger than Snape ever was if he did ever bully (he didn't). Severus Snape used a slur once, once when he was a child while he was being SA'd and regretted it so much he never used the word again. While Draco literally never even apologized for his fanatical white supremacist behavior. "Well he didn't want to kill Dumbledore" I'm sorry but being too cowardly to kill someone does not equal being a good person.

"Oh well they changed, they grew up and became better." Did they? Where's the proof? Where's the evidence? I never saw Sirius own up to his actions. Remus still excused his friends bullying. "Well actually Draco actually liked Hermione the whole time. And that's why he was so mean to her" So? If anything that makes even worse. If a guy wished me dead, was openly vile to I wouldn’t suddenly be okay with it because he was actually attracted to me the whole time.

So what arguments do the Snaters have left?

Nothing, absolutely zero justification other than shallow, half baked reasons.

Severus Snape commits the most unforgivable sin. Being poor, morally grey AND ugly.

Because being poor can be forgiven as long as you're hot i.e Remus Lupin. But forbid they actually show signs of their class. Being malnourished, having hand me clothes, not being able to have proper hygiene. These are all things that actually happen to severely lower class individuals. Being a pureblood snob can be forgiven as long as you're hot. Being actually evil with zero justification is forgiven as long as you're hot.

People will twist and headcanon characters we get two pages of information on into fully fleshed out people with intricate backstories and believable justification for all their evil behavior.

Meanwhile bashing Snape who is one the most complex, dark, interesting character in the series. All because Snape is "ugly".

Because god forbid a character does not fit their rigid beauty standards and is actually complex and human.

And we're not gonna get into how literally not once was Snape ever explicitly described as ugly or how Draco Malfoy in the books described as having a pointed, rat like face.

And just to clarity I'm not trying yuck anybody's yum. Love the characters you love, stan evil ones, ship all the characters you want. I do! I ship character who make absolutely no sense in canon. create intricate stories for background characters all you want That's what fandom is all about. But don't act you have an actual reason for hating Snape while simultaneously stanning Voldemort and Barty Crouch Jr.

Be straightforward and say you don't like him because he does not fit your rigid cookie cutter beauty standards and you have no compassion.

Cheers,

[tyblackthornsheadphones]

Hiya! Maybe some hurt and comfort fic with the moon boys after the reader got hurt in a street scuffle thing? :)

i reread this only once and yes, i did notice the inconsistent verb tenses but honestly i don’t have the energy to go back and change it. i tried to keep physical descriptions of the reader to a minimum so it should be gender neutral and any race. if not, please let me know so i can fix it.

i also kind of forgot the reader was supposed to be hurt and wrote it more emotional but i hope it’s fine anyway. (i’m so bad at following requests i’m so sorry)

if you wanna support me you can buy me a ko-fi.

the two men had come out of nowhere, forcing you into an alleyway under the dark cover of the night. your only comfort was the thought that your boys were watching the city for these exact types of people, maybe they would come save you. and if you managed to hold off the two men for just long enough, you could get out of this alive.

you weren’t a fighter. marc had taught you basic self-defence, but even so you wouldn’t have been able to take on two big, buff men with guns and eyes that spoke of deranged thoughts and lack of care for any life but their own.

the rest was a blur. a white caped hero throwing punches, a body jumping in front of your own, blood on the concrete and on gloved hands.

“let’s get you home, amor.”

jake was angry, you could hear it in his tone, but you were still frozen in fear from the encounter, your mind buzzing yet simultaneously unable to string together any coherent thoughts. so you didn’t respond, and he carried you home in his arms, jumping into the loft through the window you always kept open for him on nights like these, the one you’d forgotten to close before leaving.

you have a routine for when your boys come back from their duties as moonknight. the suit heals their wounds, but it doesn’t wash away the blood. you run a warm cloth over their skin until the blood and grime is all washed off, a slow repetitive process that gives their mind the time to deal with the violence they committed and store away the memories somewhere far back.

it’s easy to let your muscle memory take over.

“you don’t have to do that tonight,” jake says, “let us take care of you. we want to make sure you’re alright after that.”

you shake your head. there’s still a part of you that’s numb, and you don’t think you could put your feelings into words, you don’t think there’s any real way to voice the way you were convinced you were going to die, the way your brain flashed through everything you regret and your friends you haven’t seen in a while and the goals you’d never accomplish.

the suit falls away and it’s just your jake. not the hero of london or the fist of vengeance, just your worried boyfriend.

you clean his knuckles of the blood that always somehow manages to seep through the bandages that make up their suit. his body tenses, and when you look up, you meet marc’s eyes. his jaw is clenched in a way that you recognise, he wants to speak but doesn’t quite know how to say it, he’s worried talking about it might not be what you need right now.

“i’m sorry,” you say finally, “for going out. a friend needed my help and i thought i could walk back home after. i didn’t think…”

“not your fault,” marc replies, “we should’ve gotten them before they even had the chance to touch you.”

“it’s not your fault either, you know,” you put the dirty cloth down.

he shakes his head. there’s no point in having this argument, it’s the same every time. you argue that it’s impossible to save everyone, that london is a huge city and they’re just one body that can only accomplish so much. marc’s dumb guilty conscience convinces him that any person he can’t save in time is blood on his hands, not the fault of the criminals who committed the act, but his for not being able to save them.

you understand why, and the fights always come back to the same thing.

the last remnants of adrenaline are fading and your hands grow shaky. marc leads you to bed, but you know this is the part where he leaves, back into the headspace while one of the others (usually steven) hold you under the safety of the blankets. he likes to take care of you, to provide, but he still struggles to be soft.

“i was so scared,” you finally admit when the lights are turned off and the room is dark and the boys can’t see your face. it’s easier to admit when you don’t have to look into the eyes of the men who act as london’s protectors, constantly in dangerous situations. you don’t have to deal with the feelings of inferiority, like comparing yourself to marc’s strong and brave ex-wife who would surely have been able to defend herself.

you don’t even know which one is fronting. maybe they all are. when the tears start to fall, all you care about is the comforting familiarity of the strong arms around you and the scent of the men you love.

[thatmooncake]

The way Sun and Moon have experienced so much hurt and so much horror but in a way they may never be able to fully address because they just may not quite have the full understanding or the drive to unpack all of what’s happened to them in any sort of context beyond just seeing it as another part of their lives as silly jesters performing at the whims of other people as a small fragment of a dying franchise. That denial and where that understanding escapes them makes it even more tricky for them to heal because they can’t even begin to come to terms with the way the virus and their repurposing has affected them both, but the horrors keep on coming and they’re slowly unraveling and they know - they’ve known from the start - that something is wrong, and yet they can’t quite figure out what for the longest time.

When the virus hits, they just carry on as normal because that’s all they’ve ever known. They notice the other one is acting differently and it alarms them but they aren’t listened to. Perhaps they don’t openly voice their concerns, or maybe no one is there to hear them. Perhaps they don’t even stumble upon the answer until a long time has passed, sitting in denial, just blocking out the changes and the concerns, and the other one whose existence has now thrown their lives into turmoil.

Sun carries on like everything’s fine and dandy - that is, until he can’t anymore. What a life. Always on. Always acting. He’s a good actor, sure, but when you’re meant to play one half of a day-night cycle I bet it wears at you when you now have to cover both shifts. The fact that he’s even trying to - he’s desperate not to be pulled back into the abyss so Moon can come out because he knows how broken Moon is right now. And I’m guessing that even if he did have a clue how to fix them (which, maybe he honestly didn’t, or simply wouldn’t come to terms with until he saw the faz-wrench in Cassie’s hand in Ruin), he couldn’t leave the daycare at most hours because he’d be at work, entertaining the kids, or not supposed to be out if the daycare was out of order. And then when the pizzaplex was closed, there were the blackouts all over, keeping him locked in where the generators were, where he’d have a chance to retreat into the light (and we can’t forget how useful Moon was to Afton and co as a retrieval bot, so he’d be out and about of course, they’d make sure of that, but not as himself).

The alternative would have been knowingly risking unleashing Moon upon more potentially innocent victims, and getting both of them in even more trouble when he should have been out. He should have been making sure things stayed working at least a little bit. And we see Sun fighting Moon with everything he has in the Ruin jumpscares just so they won’t do something they’ll regret. How long has he been fighting? How many times might he have tried and failed to stop Moon and woken up with blood on his hands?

How exhausting that must have been. Did he blame Moon at all? Any animosity between them could only have hurt more. And even if he didn’t give in to that frustration, the fact is, he was keeping Moon away that whole time, not letting him out to play. For his own good or not, that can’t have felt nice, and it certainly can’t have been easy.

And then Moon on the other hand expresses little clear awareness that something is wrong in Security Breach itself, at least none that’s addressed to Gregory or any of the others, simply going about his business, but it’s heavily implied he knows - and maybe he always knew - that there is something pulling from beneath the surface from the things he says in Ruin. “It won’t work!” He knows at that point at least that Sun (or perhaps Cassie) has a plan, of sorts. But he denies it. He doesn’t trust in that plan to fix them. He knows Sun is there, fighting to come out the moment the lights come on. He’s determined not to stay locked away anymore.

Imagine that frustration too. He wants Sun gone - he has to - because he’s in pain as long as the lights are on. And we can tell from Sun’s sad little song that he feels every bit of emptiness when he’s not active as well. And yet, being active feels like a desperate struggle on both sides as well. They’re in a constant battle with themselves, and there can be no victor.

Now imagine if Moon’s awareness - or his relative resignation at the state of the virus - had extended way back to the main game, when they first became afflicted by it. Knowing there was nothing he or Sun could do to stop it - because he (because they?) tried, and failed? Or just (optionally, if we’re considering the novels) because he was always the “villainous” appendix FazCorp couldn’t cut out of the otherwise comparatively “functional” working daycare attendant? Because then maybe Moon knew all along that there wasn’t a version of events where he was actually supposed to be here anymore.

(When he was infected by the virus, on the other hand? Moon had a purpose. Not a nice one, exactly, but a purpose nonetheless. Something Sun still had in the daycare that he wasn’t allowed. It’s not surprising that they ended up at odds with each other at all no matter how you look at it.)

[screams-in-writing]

:)

Hey, wanna see if I can make some tears happen?

Because here’s some depressing angst from a much later chapter of the fic.

FYI, it’s 1st pov Mr. Puzzles, with some Smg4, 3 and Mario cameos. No context but for the fact that Mr. Puzzles screwed up badly by making some poor decisions. Also, typed this up on the phone, but since it was flowing really well kept going; so possible typos.

-

There was something of a numbness that had fallen over me the moment my neck suddenly, and quite miraculously, no longer ached terribly as it had before. 

The enormity of what had just happened…

What had just been done, and just where it was I was now…

I could not make sense of it, even if I knew all of the pieces that had led up to this point, and it was only my fault that it had happened due to foolishly believing I could het away with one more passenger to my mind, without malicious intent for once. 

I understood why I was here, even if it hurt me more than I thought possible to know that it was because of a misunderstanding I doubted I would ever have a change to explain, or make up for. 

I’d been at rest, so I’d been within my mind when I had been forcibly (painfully) dragged back to my home world. 

As much as I didn’t want things to end between us like this, there didn’t appear to be much hope that I could get back to your world without assistance, when I still wasn’t at my best.

There were a number of things that could have been done in that moment. 

I could have done a dramatic emergence from my metal head, all dramatic flair with a showman’s smile to hide all the pain and regret and grief that had not yet had time to settle in.

I could have just come out and faced whatever consequences for my actions in my world and your adjacent one, as I figured you’d been the one to ask Smg4 to bring me back home.

A home where I would only ever be alone due to my actions that had sent me careening through the air into your world. 

I could have run; been a coward and faced nothing but loneliness and a loss to do much more than just exist, now that I wouldn’t be actively dying in another world because a man with a tv for a head shouldn’t have been able to survive there.

I chose…to do nothing. 

Attempting to do anything, whether for good or my own purpose, led me to here, so I just wouldn’t come out from my mind. If I didn’t do anything, then I wouldn’t hurt anyone, and I could be left to my misery if what could have been if I had just stopped and thought about anyone apart from myself. 

There wasn’t even a plan to have my screen turn on to face anyone who’d be there upon my rather dizzying return to this world. 

Not even that plumber’s grating voice, which normally would have had me on the defensive, did anything to draw me out of hiding.

Nothing, until there was an incessant tapping on my metal head, and with memory of the last time (dratted trash compactor and its nightmares) I reluctantly, and wearily, turned on my screen. 

Smg4 was there, standing a healthy distance away from me, while wearing a nervous expression as if expecting me to do something. 

“Ugh, great, you just had to try and talk to the tv freak.” Smg3 was a little closer, glaring at me and were it possible, bristling as if he were holding back a tirade of words and possible desire to get into a fisticuffs situation. “I could have already gone back to my cafe but no, you had to bring him back right now. My poor little Eggdog is all alone at the cafe!”

“Don’t you have any customers?” Smg4 appeared grateful for a distraction.

“Yes.” Smg3 turned his ire on the other man. “My cafe had lots of people when I had to leave there, and come here, with you.”

“Mario doesn’t think he saw anyone.” 

Ordinarily, I would have grimaced, but upon seeing that my screen was on, Mario, who, up until said screen turned on, brightened upon. “TV man! Hello! Play Mario some telletubies!”

I don’t say anything to that.

I say nothing at all.

I merely waited for one of them that wasn’t Mario to address me, already resigned, if pained, over the idea that he was likely never going to see you again. And then, Smg4 unwittingly drove that point home with a remarkably reasonable question. 

“Why did you do that?” 

I shut my screen off before any of them could see the broken expression that was about to take the place of the more weary one. When I spoke, it was soft, nearly inaudible, all bravado and spark gone. “None of you would believe me, so I won’t waste your time.”

Smg4 was quiet.

“Are you kinnfing me?” Smg3 scoffed. “Oh that’s rich. You love to hear the sound of your own voice, so why not boast about all the lousy tricks you used on someone that trusted you there.”

I…said nothing, nor did I do anything.

For all intents and purposes, I likely resembled a simple old television that was turned off.

There was some murmuring, but that wasn’t enough for me to bother to turn my screen or to even listen in as I allowed myself to drift within my mind. 

It was a cold comfort. 

Artificial.

There was no one here but myself, and the countless tvs that surrounded me, floating and doing nothing. 

Much like I, myself, was no longer doing anything. 

I didn’t even look or question way that someone had picked up my metal head and carried me along for quite some time. 

It was relaxing, in a way. 

I didn’t have to do anything, because if I did, I would only make things worse.

Everything was already such a mess.

Were I to attempt to explain myself, after what I put Smg4 and his friends through, the explanation would only be hollow words to those them; they didn’t have the whole picture, so how could they judge me without that?

…but they could.

Smg4 and the otheres already had enough to judge me for, no matter the progress I’d made in the world adjacent to this one. 

It didn’t matter that this was all a horrible cluster of connected misunderstandings, but I wasn’t a fool. 

I knew that trying to talk about what really happened in the other world with you at present wouldn’t go over well. With what I was perceived to have done, and how quickly Smg4 and 3 had been to devise a plan to wrench me from your world back to my own…it was too soon to try and mend what had clearly been broken by my own arrogance by believing that things would be just fine, and that there’d be no consequences other than a light scolding.

Perhaps I was a fool after all, to believe that I could experience one of those happy ever after endings I’d watched of so many shows. 

The long walk ended when I felt my metal head being placed in some quiet place.

As before, I didn’t bother to turn on my screen. 

I didn’t want to see where I was.

It was cold.

I could sense it distantly.

There were footsteps that receded from me, as Smg4 could be heard calling out to someone else farther away. 

He’d said nothing to be.

I thought I may have heard the sound of a door close.

That was it, then?

Nothing else was said or done to me, apart from placing me somewhere like an unwanted piece of hardware?

I wasn’t sure whether to feel relief or disappointment, but if even Smg4 had no need for any further conversation with me, then I would remain exactly where I was. 

Within my mind, I curled my body up as tightly as I could. My wrapped wrapper firmly around my legs as I tucked my long limbs up to my chest. I pressed them to my chest snugly.

A static, glitching noise slid out of me.

With a fumbling hand, I forcefully muted myself  before burying my screen into my knees. With the extra silence I tormented myself with the fact that even my mind couldn’t block out the pathetic tears I could no longer even shed.

I would stay here, in my mind, where I couldn’t bother anyone trapped in any of the channels either. 

It had been made abundantly clear, over and over, throughout everything from first finding Smg4 to being punted into your world, and all the way to now, being back here that…that…

Curling my frame up into as small as a ball as best I could with my lanky limbed body, I kept kept my face pressed to my knees despite my whole body being wracked with tremors from unalloyed the emotions battering into me at once. 

Unshed tears were witnessed by no one. 

Anguished, despairing screams of grief, anger and self-loathing were locked behind a muted voice, unheard by none but myself. 

Because even muted, I could internally hear everything in this place that I’d created within my own mind. The tv screens all around me went dim, and the vibrancy of everything in my mind dulled. 

My shoulders slumped, even as I kept my arms wrapped around my legs beneath the knees. Screen staring at nothing, I felt a squeeze within my chest I’d not felt before, as I came to a concussion I’d been avoiding for some time now. 

No one needed me.

No matter what I did, no matter how hard I tried, and no matter how much I attempted to understand…to try to see more than just myself and my need to meet perfection by any and all means.

I had nothing to show for it.

I was alone again.

The area around me grew dimmer than before, greying here and there in place of the vibrant colors of before. 

I just…stopped. 

Tv head and screen sagging against my knees, I made myself as small as possible while something seemed to crack and shatter into pieces within me as I finally just…stopped moving. 

Hanging suspended in my mind, my face eventually shut off while still muted, as I drifted.

It was safer for everyone that way, wasn’t it?

It was safer you and your roommates; for your whole town.

It was better for Smg4 and his crew, to not be reminded of the bad times that I’d orchestrated and been a part of toward the end of it.

It was better for both worlds if I just stayed away, and didn’t bother anyone anymore. That way, no one would have to put up with me any longer.

The channels that people were trapped within when I came here within my mind?

Gone.

I released them back to their homes, since this world would accept them and because, much like Smg4 and the others, they didn’t want nor need me. 

And you…

You…

There was a traitorous twinge in my chest, of unfamiliar grief yet bitter understanding of your actions due to my foolish assumptions and decisions I’d made so carelessly.

After all was said and done, my own arrogance and confidence led me to the same conclusion as before, despite the struggles to have it be otherwise. 

No one…

…wanted me.

[lightlycareless]

How could you break my heart on Valentine’s Day??? Waaaahhhhhh, it makes sense but it still hurts. You’re gonna give me a part three or else 🔫

Seriously though it was really good! I loved it. I calculated and rounded up how much Naoya paid Mei Mei in U.S. Dollars and this dude really paid her around $17,500 and that’s not including all the gifts he bought Y/N. If I was Naoya’s parents, his debit card is getting confiscated. That is INSANE. I can’t imagine if they somehow managed to force out what actually happened to learn he spent all that on a girl that didn’t even RECIPROCATE his feelings like oh my god. I can’t imagine the earful poor Ranta is gonna get especially since this was kinda his idea for Naoya to confess his feelings(Although I don’t know if Ranta thought he’d go about it like this).

I wonder though if Y/N would reconsider Naoya’s feelings if she read his letter. Oof but now I’m thinking about what she’d do if she learned Naoya was the reason why she didn’t receive any gifts. I don’t know how long he’d stay on her bad side after that.

Hello anon!

Gee this is surely a really late response, but I still hope you know I appreciate your lovely words about my work!! Thank you so much 🥺❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

I'm sorry that I broke your heart on the 14th haha it was kind of unexpected ngl, but that's just where the characters took me 🤭 though it's not all sad... if you know you know.

AS FOR THE MONEY HAHAHAH poor Naoya, he definitely got an earful from his parents, or more like the people in charge of the finances, I doubt Naobito cared enough to scold him (shall I make Tomoko involved? IF SHE WAS AROUND THOUGH THINGS WOULD'VE TURNED SO DIFFERENT) Damn I need to write a small drabble explaining what happened there, but in the meantime, it kind of went like this:

Ranta: What happened Naoya?

Naoya: nothing. *doesn't talk to anyone for weeks*

Ranta: That bad?

Naoya: :(

(he doesn't regret spending all that money on you. it's like a hobby of his lol he loves it.)

But anyways, I keep thinking that the third part for this series I would like something like an epilogue, a peak into the future…

Warnings: none. Fluff. A happy ending 😊. (By the way, this is the oneshot anon is referring to. Highly recommend reading this first!!!)

Happy reading!

“—And that, dumpling, was your papa’s and I first valentine’s day together! Kind of, not really, but it was the first time I got gifts from him. It was certainly different from what I expected, but if you look really closely, it was very sweet, and now, I’m able to look back on it fondly!” You smile; truly, who would’ve thought that you’d end up marrying that awkward, somewhat intense kid? And having a beautiful daughter too?

Though you could see in Naomi’s tense chubby face that this wasn’t exactly the romantic story she was hoping to hear, and you do not blame her, Naoya’s approach had been nothing short of alarming and unexpected, just enough to scare you off from ever considering something more from him!

But his subtle persistence, the small gestures he’d still give you even when openly denouncing he’ll never seek you again, is what eventually persuaded you otherwise.

Through his attentiveness when you were out on a mission with him, making sure that you were neither too cold nor too hot, either through offering you something to drink or his own sweater to wear.

Quick to save you from a curse that got too close, or a fellow student you were not in the mood to entertain.

Whenever you needed help with jujutsu—either a term you didn’t quite understand just yet, or plain practice. Naoya had much more experience than you, so it was only natural that you’d seek him; that wouldn’t change even with that awkward valentine’s interaction…

But above all, what made you see that Naoya might be the one you were waiting for all along, is the fact that he remembered all the things you liked, the ones that made you happy—from sweets, food, to even your favorite characters…

If his emotions weren’t genuine, he wouldn’t have done such a thing!

Perhaps your only regret is ever giving him the idea that you couldn’t come to appreciate him, or that he wasn’t deserving of love.

But that was long in the past, and after a few dates, and getting to know each other… you two fell in love.

Unfortunately, Naomi wouldn’t come to see it that way.

“What’s wrong, pumpkin? This isn’t the story you expected?” Naoya asks with a smile, enjoying the way she huffed in response—though that satisfaction wouldn’t last long.

“No, papa, you were creepy.” She pouted, and her mama could almost hear his heart shatter.

“Oh.” Naoya doesn’t even come to wonder how she knew of such word, undoubtedly from his cousins, but that would be a matter to tend to later after he mends his broken heart.

“Well, he’s done his due! Papa loves us very, very much and would never do anything to scare us!”

“Thanks, Y/N.” Naoya responds sarcastically. “That makes me feel much better.”

You giggle.

“Why don’t you leave us alone, pumpkin? Papa and I need to talk a bit.”

And Naomi obeys immediately after, not that it took much for her to do so, for her disappointment rapidly pushed her to seek something better, a bit more entertaining—like Mai and Maki’s daily occurrences, more ways to annoy her father and such.

Once alone, the two are able to freely look back on that fateful day…

“What I did back then was messed up, wasn’t it?” Naoya sighs.

“I wouldn’t say that necessarily.” You add.

“But nothing happened after that.” He says. “Things didn’t change until much later.”

“Well, I did get to see a new side of you, one I didn’t think you had.”

“What did you think of me…?”

“That you were… bold. Arrogant, a bit snobby too…” you say, Naoya’s face reddens out of shame.

“Don’t—Don’t say anything else.” He frowns. “I get the idea loud and clear…”

“But that you were sweet too.” You smile, taking his hand. “I’ve never been lucky enough to have someone hold such strong feelings for me… thought it to be something out of a fairy tale—Until I met you—someone that harbored so much love to give but didn’t know how to express it.”

“You make me sound much nobler than what I really am—I don’t know how you do it, Y/N…”

“It took me time to get there, love.” You laugh. “But it’s only because you’re so cute that I eventually thought otherwise.”

“Cute?” he huffs, ready to retort otherwise, until you lean in to kiss his cheek, gesture enough to have him willing. “Alright—but only you can call me that.”

“I better be the only one.” You warn. “Although I was hoping our dumpling would do so too when I told her our story…”

“…Well, I can’t blame her, it must’ve sounded crazy for her.” Naoya sighs. “…If someone dared do the same thing to my daughter you can be sure I’d send the kukuru to get rid of him! No jerk is going to impress her!”

“I don’t think that’ll happen; Naomi didn’t seem amused by us either way.” You reassure him. “And she’s too young to be worried about that too! All she cares about right now is when will her papa get her that kitten he promised her…”

“I’m working on it!” Naoya frets. “It’s just that kittens aren’t born until later in the year…”

“Well, let’s hope that you aren’t too late, something tells me that my sister might be already on the lookout…”

“NO, she’s not.” Naoya breathes. “I will never forgive her if she does!”

But you just shrug playfully, not really giving Naoya much of an opportunity to not worry about spoiling his daughter, fearing that he might lose the position of favorite human in the whole wide world against your sister! A rank Hinata has been coveting for as long as he could remember, competing with the rest of your family too…

A tough endeavor, though he’ll have something else to worry about now.

“By the way… I’m aware of what you did with with the gifts.” You say, he freezes.

“Ho—How?” he blinks.

“Shoko told me. Mei Mei wasn’t that… fond of keeping secrets that were too juicy to hide.” You reveal.

“That woman… she told me that—!” but he goes silent, understanding there was a much bigger issue at hand. “…Are you angry with me?”

“Yes, so angry, that I’ve decided to personally torment you for the rest of our lives!” You tease, at the mischief of your voice, a weight is lifted from Naoya’s shoulders. “I was angry, but… it didn’t last long, considering that some of those gifts were from people I didn’t really want to be involved with… so, you kind of did me a favor… though I did have to go through a whole day thinking I didn’t get anything…”

“…I’m sorry—I might’ve gotten ahead of myself trying to impress you…”

“Well, for all the chocolate I missed back then, you made up for me, tenfold!” you grin, wrapping him in your arms and placing kisses all over his cheeks until you could no more. “I love you, Naoya—you and all of your bold, extravagant, though a bit silly, ways. So don’t worry about that anymore, not when it was the reason that brought us together.”

Naoya blushes, letting himself be consumed by the incessant demonstrations of your affection and the acceptance of your words, for there was honesty behind them—even when a rocky start, it ultimately fated the two together.

What was once nothing but a dream, one that seemed so far away on the day you rejected him…

Now was his everyday reality—if not better, for it brought along a small bundle of joy that made both of your lives happier, although there were moments where she didn’t feel particularly the same, unamused by her parent’s antics from time to time…

But even then, he wouldn’t want it any other way.

They got their happy ending nonetheless :') Really, that day was only the beginning for them. It was enough for Y/N to finally set her eyes on him!! And the rest is history 🥺❤️

Thankfully I do plan to write a bit more of this HS AU, you know, the simple things like them slowly falling in love 🥺 ajfghajkghajghjkas this has to be one of my favorite au's (if not the favorite haha) can't wait to write them in time.

Now, thank you so much for your support and patience 🥺❤️❤️!!!! I'm really glad you're liking my work!!!

Take care, and hope to see you soon!!

[susvale]

M.I.A. Homelander X Reader X Steve Roger

Title: Missing In action

Pairings: Homelander X Reader, Steve Rogers X Reader, Dark Steve x Reader, Dark Homelander x reader [Crossover]

Summary: You were an avenger, one of the more magic ones. People called your name in excitement and felt safe being around you, then thanos happened… when you weren’t snapped and after a police call you were somewhere else. Now all you know is there is a man with a cap calling himself Homelander calling himself “Americas Hero” and the world is different… is it isn’t so bad though.

I made this is 2022, It’s been sitting in my drafts for that long… so yeah!

[Part One] -> [Part Two]

It was overwhelming at times. Cameras in your face after a mission were you were left battered and bruised, nevertheless you smiled, you gave a proud smile to the reporters reporting. They had risked things coming here did it make your job harder, yes, the helicopters flying around while you try and fly. It added pressure to keep people in the air safe. At least you weren’t Steve, they made him do dumb shit, like that time he was in a Detention video spouting nonesense. You job was only to keep people safe. People may offer you movie rolls but you always decline, you weren’t an actor your a hero. Even if declining meant buying an okay-ish apartment with a broken Landry machine. You weren’t a millionaire, just a lady with the power to say “bang” and a mans head would explode if you wanted to. Even then, you had the option to live in Tony’s tower. Maybe then some random wouldn’t show up ever week looking to kill you. A sigh left your lips as you looked down at the TV, Thanos killed half the population and vanished. That is what’s in the News again. Men lost daughters, mothers lost sons but everybody lost someone. Even so it still stung he wouldn’t pick up your calls, you wanted to shout at him ‘your not dead yet and neither am I! stop ignoring me before one of those things change!’ Missions still came in, unsteady but they did come in.

“Maybe I should get a real job, part time.” You mumbled to yourself while you stared at the TV. Everyone you ever knew had distanced themselves or been snapped, maybe getting out would be good… people have been starting to expect that this is life, ‘maybe thanos was right my gym has been less crowded lately!’ Kinda people, jokes that might not be jokes anymore.

You still think about it, maybe he was right. It was horrible, you know. So many people lost and yet you didn’t lose anyone significant, Bucky of course but you were only just starting to get to know him… Steve maybe but you could still see him, feel him breathe, he didn’t get snapped. He was just distance, like he wished he did get snapped…

Witch hurt…

You didn’t have a family, friends outside of the avengers, hell you never had a boyfriend before Steve. How could you? Caged and trained like a dog, feed needles and pills like food. Given faces and names to quietly kill, you never had your own name till the avengers… Y/N… it was a nice name though. you named yourself off the first person you ever killed, you didn’t know if they would ever have agreed but they were dead… so it didn’t matter.

Steve and therapy, You remembered. Keep breathing don’t think about it. Or maybe it was think about it regret is good? Your therapist had been snapped so it’s been a while. The police called you once in and while about cases. Maybe answering back wouldn’t suck? You were lonely and bored, nothing to do then unsteady mission that lacked any sort of life.

Grabbing your phone you called a man. He was your contact to the police, you could never remember titles or anything like that but he was pretty high up.

“Thank god you called, you use to be so active I was starting to worry you got snapped too.” He joked, people cope with humor, you know that. Still, it irritated you that you and your friends put your life on the line and failed only to be joked about by people who didn’t know anything. Nevertheless, you gritted your teeth and held your tongue. “More and more people are disappearing. We think it may be an aftershock effect of some kind.”

“I doubt it.” You mumbled to yourself, he didn’t hear you and went on about the investigation. A group of people who agreed with Thanos’s ideals has been here and there, left and right. They think a select group talking it too far and hurting or making more people disappear. That sounded more likely, he told you about peoples corpses. Looked like they had been shot with high power lasers, or they’re heads have been smashed in. They had a certain person in custody, maybe if you worked with them you could find a way to undo the snap? That’s what the officer proposed anyway. You said your goodbyes and hung up the phone, you would be their for the interview is what you told them.

You should call Steve. This looked like such an important case, he had to know people were making more people disappear… it could lead to something. He would want to know.

So you did call him. He didn’t answer, instead you were greeted by the all so familiar call after the beep speech. It was nicer then actually speaking to him nowadays, though. “Heya, it’s Steve. Leave a uh… voicemail..? After the beep? Did I do that right?” You’d hear him call to someone in the background, “yeah, other then forgetting what a voicemail was called.” You heard your own distant voice greet you, “Steve you have to-“ you were the last thing you hear as the beep signalled the end of the recorded ‘can’t get to you’ message.

A sigh left you when you realized you’d have to speak now, “Hey Steve, the police called me and they have a case of more disappearing people. A group of Thanos supporters popped up making even more people disappear.” You paused, “I think it’s something you’ll be interested in, might lead to something, heh… listen, I miss you, it’s been so long since we’ve spoken. I… can’t…” your voice trailed off, you breathed in deciding not to do this over a call. “Anyway, call me when you get this. Can’t make it too long.”

That’s right. You couldn’t keep the police waiting… So you grabbed your bag and left. Off to the police station.“Hey, we put the suspect in the interrogation room.” The man spoke, he opened the door to a standard interrogation room. Blue walls, four barely cushioned chairs and a table in the middle closet to a wall. The suspect looked like a regular man. You frowned.

This all felt too… cultish? It made you uncomfortable, the look in his eye. He looked at you like you were a god among men.

[emberenchanted]

For Keeps (3/3)

Pairing: Dark!Carol Danvers x Female Reader

Summary: Carol sees you. Carol wants you. Carol gets what she wants. 

Series Warnings: extremely dubious consent, strap ons (r receiving), sex (oral, vaginal), anal fingering, Dom!Carol, orgasm denial, spanking, violence (not really towards reader), manipulation, forced relationship, rough sex

18+ ONLY

Link to Chapter 1

Link to Chapter 2

A/N: Ok party people, we've reached the end of this short tale. There really isn't much plot here, it's mostly smut 😅. This fic is my first time writing smut so hope it isn't terrible. Thanks to everyone who read, liked, commented, and reblogged! Let me know what you think about this chapter. I really appreciate the support and motivation.

Divider by @firefly-graphics

Chapter 3

When you wake up the next morning, it is to serious regret and a text from Carol telling you that she’d pick you up at 6:30pm that night. You make one last effort to get out of the date and text back that you aren’t feeling well. Carol responds and says that if you aren’t feeling well, she’ll just come over and take care of you until you’re better. 

The response makes your stomach drop. You shudder to imagine how domineering Carol would be alone, in a private space that has a lock. She already forces every interaction into the outcome she desires in public. If she managed to get into your studio, you would be at her mercy, and after the way she’d finger fucked you against the alley wall before you could get a word in, you were sure you wouldn’t get her out of your apartment before she got what she wanted, which was most likely you in bed with her. You definitely weren’t ready for that yet, if you’d ever be. No, much better to go out. 

Hours later, after considering the contents of your closet, you settle on a black knee length bodycon dress with long sleeves and chunky black boots. You style your hair into an updo, and add chunky gold hoop earrings; a bit of concealer (to cover the marks Carol had left on your neck the night before), and a swipe of lip gloss complete your look. You don’t want Carol to see where you live so you decide that you’ll head down to the bar around 6:25pm and meet her there. You’re already nervous, so when you’re ready by 6pm you decide to indulge in one glass of wine to settle your nerves. It definitely can’t hurt, right?

At 6:20pm, Carol walks up the steps to your apartment, which is right over the bar. If she’d known last night that her baby lived just upstairs, she could have dragged you there during her break and made your first time riding her fingers much more comfortable. Though to be fair, if she had known, you might not have made it back for the rest of your shift. Oh, well. That’s what she gets for not having complete information. She won’t let that happen again. Carol intends to find out all the important bits about her baby’s life tonight, so simple slip ups like that don’t happen anymore.  

After spending her morning “talking” to some of the other business owners who have recently missed their monthly payments, Carol is feeling relaxed and eager. Situations where she got to flex her physical...skills always got her blood up, and she was ready to show her baby a great time. The concerning information Carol’d received from three of the people she visited could be handled tomorrow. Apparently, all of them had also been told there’d be a change in payment method and none of the dumb fucks had double checked before paying in cash at that bench. She needed to talk to Steve about how to move forward and he wasn’t an early riser. If things went according to plan, she wouldn’t make it back to the Avengers’ headquarters from her date until mid-morning tomorrow. 

She bounds up the last two steps before quickly walking to your door. Carol knocks two times before taking a step back. When you open the door, Carol is absolutely thrilled. You look fucking delicious and Carol can’t wait to eat her little baby alive. Your soft breasts are perched high in a tight black v-neck dress, and the smooth expanse of skin from your neck to dressline is flawless. Whatever you'd applied made your skin gleam and shimmer in the light. It's all Carol can do to not hook her finger into the neckline of your dress and tug to see if your pretty little nipples shine in the same way. You look surprised to see her and Carol uses your temporary shock to crowd you, pressing her body to yours and lifting her hand to stroke your cheek gently. “You look incredible, baby,” Carol husks out, dropping a soft kiss on your shiny supple lips. 

“Oh.” The little sound of surprise pops out of you before you can help it. When you take a step back, Carol takes that moment to step around and into your apartment. 

Carol slowly takes in the small two room apartment. It was rather cramped and a bit dingy, but you obviously take good care of your belongings. Old bookcases line the walls and sink under the weight of fat, squat books. An obviously used green velvet couch takes up most of the open floor space and a TV on a chipped wood table stands across from the couch. But multiple small clusters of flowers in mason jars are perched on several surfaces, brightening the space. And in the kitchen, directly behind the couch, several bright prints and images are hung. 

Carol was proud of you for making it on your own this far. She knew how many young girls struggled, but you had found a job and place to live in a new city without any family support or connections. Her baby was hard working and industrious. Thankfully, you wouldn't need to do that anymore. Carol would be taking care of all that for you soon enough. Carol was just happy that through your obvious struggles you'd remained innocent and pliable. Watching you stammer and flush when Carol gave you her full attention was exquisite and it made her eager to command that submissive spirit in the bedroom. You would be so fucking pretty whining and squirming under Carol in bed with a sore and tender ass. 

After Carol had seen her fill of the apartment, she turned to face you once more. Stepping close, Carol slid a hand up and down your arm. “Your apartment is so cute, baby. I wish I’d known you lived so close. I would have come over sooner.”

You shudder at the thought. “Ready to head out?,” you ask hurriedly.

By the time Carol slips into the booth seat next to you at the restaurant, you’ve calmed just a bit. While she’s been just as handsy at the show and on the way there, she’s also been charming. Being with Carol was like being on a rollercoaster. The breakneck pace she pushes things along makes your stomach churn and drop, but it also makes you excited and breathless. As with a roller coaster you’re pretty sure you’ll make it off alive, but there’s always the chance that you’ll slip past the safety restraints and tumble to your end. It was exciting and scary. Carol was exciting and scary.

The restaurant Carol has chosen is quiet and dimly lit. Floor to ceiling brick walls enclosed several small tables situated around the room. A few booths were also tucked against the back wall creating private enclaves. Each table is topped with a burning white candle. After you’d both ordered, Carol begins asking about your life. Where you grew up, familial relationships, your past romantic partners, what you liked to do in your free time, your favorite places in the city (so far); everything was fair game. There was a part of you that wanted to hold back, not to divulge everything about yourself, but another little part of you was flattered. You’d never had someone so interested in hearing about you. Of course, Carol might not have had a completely altruistic motive, but she did seem genuinely interested. After finishing your main course, Carol’s hand gently touches your knee, pushing the fabric of your dress up your leg and swirling patterns into the ticklish skin there. It's hard to believe that this was the same woman who’d brutalized Mel. But, you try to remind yourself that it was. 

Carol seems to be in a good mood, and she’d said at the beginning of your dinner that she wanted to know everything about you. That went both ways, right? You thought you should also be able to ask her about her life. If this was going to be a...relationship, there had to be some give and take. 

You take a deep breath and ask, “Carol, can I ask you a question?”

She squeezes your knee, “Anything, baby.”

Your question comes out quietly. “Do you hurt people, like you hurt Mel, often?”

Carol turns her body to you, meeting your eyes and she takes a beat before answering. “You want to know more about my work?”

You nod. 

“I fix problems,” she begins. “Almost any problem. I do that all over the country and all over the world. And there are different...methods for fixing problems. It’s my job to identify the most expeditious method for resolving any issue I’ve been hired to fix. People pay me a lot of money to do that well.” Her hand slides up your thigh and kneads. “What happened with Mel was unfortunate, and I’m so sorry if I scared you, but you'll get used to it.” 

Your heart stutters in your chest. That was not what you were hoping to hear. And you definitely didn’t think you’d get used to it. You look into her eyes and see what looks like affection there as you brace yourself to ask another question. “Would you ever hurt me like that?”

She chuckles softly. “I would never hurt you in the same way that I hurt Mel.” The tightness in your chest releases just a bit. “But I do have certain expectations of you, baby, and I will enforce boundaries with and for you. But never that harshly.” she rushes to finish. Your heart continues to beat a rapid rhythm against your ribs as you take in her words. You’d known that Carol had certain proclivities after your previous interactions with her, but to hear it stated so plainly was something different. You simply didn't want that kind of relationship. One with rules and punishments. You are even more sure you'll have to find some way to end things with Carol before they go any further. At that moment, the waitress clears the table, sets down your dessert and heads back to the kitchen. 

The hand gently stroking the inside of your thigh creeps up a bit higher, tickling delicate skin. You move to shift away from her, uncertain of how you're feeling at the moment and hoping for a bit of time to think. But as you begin to close your thighs, Carol gives the inside of your leg a sharp pinch. “One of those expectations is that you do as I request, and another is that you don’t move when I’m touching you--or about to touch you--unless I give you permission. Ok, baby?” 

You nod slowly and Carol nods back at you. “Now why don’t you just lean back and relax, sweetheart? This will feel good. I promise.” Carol was blocking you inside the booth so you couldn’t get out without making a scene. You rest your back fully against the back of the bench and close your eyes. 

“Look at me while I’m touching you,” Carol murmurs against your ear. You drop your head to the seat behind you and roll your head to face her, eyes fluttering at the sensations coursing through your body at her gentle stroking. 

“Carol,” you sigh.

Another pinch. “Ma'am!,” you quickly correct. “Ma'am, we’re in public. Someone might see.” 

“Don’t worry,” Carol purrs. “Nobody is going to see you. Nobody gets to see you like this but me, ok?”

You murmur affirmatively and give yourself over to the pleasure she’s inciting in you. Her slender fingers find your panty covered core and stroke over your damp slit. Her gentle caresses send fissures of pleasure shooting through you and you whimper softly. Carol hums approvingly. Her fingers pull your panties to one side and she slides one solitary finger inside your slick warmth to the second knuckle. Your body twists at the sensation, and you try to slide further down the bench to get her finger further inside you.  Carol laughs gently as she thrusts her finger in and out. In and out. It’s not enough. “More, please, ma'am” you sigh breathily. 

Carol chuckles. 

“My baby needs a little more? Do you want to come?,” Carol queries.

You nod frantically. “Do you want to come here at the table or back at home?” Your mind races. You really don’t want to lose control at the restaurant despite Carol’s assurances that nobody will see you. But, you also don’t want her in your home. As you ponder, Carol pushes her finger deeper inside you and the slick sensation makes you gasp. “Home!”

Carol pulls her finger out before slipping it in her mouth to suck gently. “Hmm, delicious,” she intones. Carol stands up quickly and strides over to the waitress, credit card in hand as you try to gather yourself and your senses. She’s back before you know it, quickly packing up your dessert into small takeout containers, and grabbing your hand to drag you out the booth.  

Just as you’d suspected, Carol was just as forceful in bed. She’d essentially dragged you to her apartment (or at least where she was staying while in the city), before pouncing on you. Her apartment was modern, but understated, largely empty of decoration. Her hands dragged, unzipped, and shifted until you were left in only your underwear. 

She pushes you into her room and onto her large bed before climbing on top of you. Her lips meet yours and her tongue strokes the inside of your mouth sensuously. She sucks and nips sharply at your lips before slowly making her way down your jawline to your neck. As her lips travel to your clavicle, Carol slips one hand underneath you to press your back into an arch. Her other deftly unclasps your bra before  tossing it aside. Her teeth gently scrape at your skin before moving to your nipples. Latching on, she gives you a hard suck, immediately laving the skin with her tongue with small strokes to soothe the now aching bud. She continues to suck on first one nipple, then the other until both are sore and puffy and you are whining and squirming underneath her. Seemingly inspired by your strained noises, her teeth continue worrying the taut bud of one breast as her fingers slip into your panties and begin to rub your clit.

She releases you with a soft, wet pop as her fingers continue exploring, first one, then two of her fingers pushing all the way into your tight hole and making you moan incoherently. “This little pussy is perfection, baby, I can’t wait to fuck you,” Carol rumbles, mouth still against your breast.   

”Wait,” you bleat out. 

Carol rises to her knees and smacks your pussy hard. “Ouch,” you shout. 

"No, baby. I’m not waiting anymore. I was supposed to get to fuck you on our last date, but you stood me up. You've been teasing me long enough. Now get undressed and get on your hands and knees." 

Carol pauses her words to cock her head and pin you with a hard gaze when she notices you aren't moving. "Now, baby," she says harshly while reaching over to give your thigh a hard pinch. You yelp at the blooming pain, then take a few deep breaths and resign yourself to what was about to happen. Your heart pounded in your chest at how fast, again, Carol was getting her way. You felt so overwhelmed and helpless that you couldn't stop the tears that filled your eyes and threatened to spill over your lower lids. Hands shaking, you removed your simple white lace underwear and began moving to your hands and knees.

Satisfied that you were following directions sufficiently (though you were still moving too slow in Carol's opinion, --something she would let slide tonight but would train out of you soon enough) Carol reaches over to open her bedside drawer and pulls out an intimidating strap on. Your movements pause as you catch sight of her maneuvering it onto her body, and your eyes widen in fear. It's as thick as your wrist, frighteningly long, and has a wicked curve. Thinking of that splitting you open makes you sob. But Carol is having none of it. With herself situated, she turns her attention back to you. She manhandles you into her desired position, ignoring your breathless pleas to pause for a moment. 

Your eyes are glued in fear to her linen duvet as you feel the fat head of her huge cock run through your slippery folds, stopping to nudge at your clit before continuing back up to your hole. Carol rests her hands on the flare between your waist and hips, before tightening her grip and starting to push into you. 

You moan pathetically as you feel the head of her cock pop into you. Even this first inch is a stretch and you know there's a lot more coming. Carol gives you no reprieve as she continues sliding into you, splitting you open at a slow but steady pace. Your cunt flutters frantically around the invading cock, trying desperately to create space where there previously was none. When you're sure you can't take any more, you begin to whine and try to move away. Carol tuts softly before giving your ass a sharp smack, and leans over to murmur in your ear. "I told you not to ever move away from me when I'm touching you." Her words send shivers down your spine.

With that, she tightens her grip on your hips, before lifting you and giving you a rough tug back, impaling you with the last few inches of her cock. You sob into the sheets at the pain coursing through you. Carol threads the fingers of one hand into your hair, yanking back to ensure you can no longer move away from her. "Gotta keep you nice and close, baby. " You shudder as Carol's free hand begins to explore your body while she gives you a few slow but deep experimental thrusts. Though you still haven't adjusted to the fullness of your cunt, Carol begins to increase the pace, drawing heat and an intense pleasure to your belly. Her touch is everywhere -- sliding over your shoulders, rubbing and twisting at your nipples until you sob, tickling down your back to rub over your ass, pinching your inner thighs before moving them apart, forcing your back into a deeper arch and making the heavy cock inside you slide that much deeper. 

You're barely holding on. Carol is everywhere and there is only Carol. Since you'd  met, Carol had been pushing every interaction and every conversation the way she wanted it to go. There was no room for disobedience, no room for hesitation at one of her many orders, and no room for negotiation. Everything has to be Carol's way, and you'd seen the potential consequences firsthand. That first night you'd seen the violence she'd casually doled out, and hadn't ever wanted that to be you. Now you were wishing for a few simple broken bones. This was so much more violating. 

Her cock is rubbing against every inch of you, making you feel stretched to the limits. As much as this hurts, it brings an equal amount of pleasure. Your body hums at the intensity of Carol fucking you. Every nerve ending is alight and you can feel the beginning of that coil tightening in your gut. You feel sick, and scared. You're sick at your body's enthusiastic response to Carol's rough handling. You can hear the slick, wet noises you make each time she thrusts into your raw and battered pussy. But you're too scared of the immediate punishment to try to resist or adjust your body to make yourself a bit more comfortable. So just as you begin to let your mind wander from this place and try to relax into the pleasure and ignore the pain, Carol removes the hand that's been roaming your body. The sudden lack of sensation gets your attention. 

She gives your hair another yank, twisting your head so you're awkwardly looking at her. She looks...depraved, but beautiful. Her piercing eyes take in every expression on your face and flick from the bouncing of your tits, to the cock disappearing inside of you and back to your face at a rapid pace. When a particularly rough thrust forces the curve of the cock into your g-spot and you part your lips to yowl at the ecstasy she shoves her pointer and middle fingers into your mouth and tells you to suck. You know better than to disobey. You suckle at her fingers as they rub over your tongue, reaching further back until they press into the back of your mouth. As you choke on the intrusion, and Carol continues to rub at your tongue as you gag, her eyes light up in glee, and you worry about the plans she might have for your mouth. You don't think you can take the hefty cock down your throat if Carol demanded it, but you know you'd have to try. You close your eyes for a moment, trying to escape the intensity of Carol's gaze and put that potential nightmare out of your mind, but Carol gives your hair a sharp tug before demanding you "look at me."

When you do, she finally-- blessedly-- pulls her fingers from your mouth. They're covered in your saliva and a small string of spit connects her fingers to your lips. She murmurs that she wishes she were close enough to lick the drop of saliva off your lips, and you can't help but be thankful she isn't. You don't think you can take much more of this. More of Carol everywhere. 

But you've never been lucky, and just as you begin to relax again you feel a light stroking pressure at the opening of your tight puckered hole. 

You start and your mind begins to race as you feel her spit slick finger begin to press into you, stretching your ass open in an insistent burn. 

"You ever let anyone fuck you here?" Carol asks. You gather your wits about you before she has to repeat her question. "No, ma'am" you mutter out in a broken moan. 

"Good," Carol responds. "I'm going to be the last person in this tight little pussy and the first and last in this little asshole." She sounds pleased.  Despite knowing the uselessness of trying, you plead for her to stop, to give you a short break. She hushes you gently, more gentle than she had been, as her finger slips deeper into you and she murmurs "Both holes baby. Gotta get you used to this. I'm not going to fuck you here with my cock tonight but it's happening soon so we've gotta get you trained. Wouldn't want to hurt you." 

Carol removes her hand from your hair and uses it to brace your hip in place as you wail and try to buck at the intrusion.

"Ah ah ah, baby. Hold still. One more,” she murmurs as she pushes in a second slender finger. “You can do it. There you go. All done. You don't move unless I tell you to, remember baby?" Your fingers scramble for purchase in Carol's sheets as you pant. You thought you'd been full before. You thought Carol had violated you as much as possible but you should have known she'd find another way to possess you. You cry into the sheets before feeling Carol smack your ass twice and dig her fingers into your hip making you yelp sharply.

"I asked you a question, baby. Answer me."

You sob out a miserable "yes, ma'am." Satisfied with your response, Carol begins to alternate thrusting into your ass and pussy, both pushing deeper into you than you thought possible. Your body quivers at the push and pull of her inside you and her free hand is back to roaming over your body. After twisting at your sore nipples her hand coasts over the soft skin of your belly to your slippery folds. She begins to rub gently at your clit. Light teasing touches that send you hurdling toward an orgasm but aren't quite enough to send you over the edge. 

You hear Carol's smooth voice behind you "are you close, baby? I can feel you squeezing my fingers and can see that sweet little cunt of yours fluttering around my cock." 

You nod, before remembering to answer affirmatively verbally. Desperate to ease just a bit of your discomfort, you shift forward a tiny bit, resting more heavily on your arms and slightly relieving the pressure of Carol's cock pressing against your cervix and the deep press of her fingers in your ass. 

Carol didn't have to-- she could tell you were trying so hard to be a good girl for her--but this time she just wanted to. She smacked your already sore ass cheek hard three times for forgetting to answer her verbally. Carol knew she would enjoy seeing the bruises tomorrow as much she was enjoying putting them there tonight. Carol slips her free arm under your stomach and drags you back toward her, more than making up for any marginal ground you may have gained in your attempt to adjust and mounting you more firmly on her cock and fingers.

You whimper and stop moving, simply shuddering and moaning in time with Carol's thrusts.

Her fingers return to your clit, rubbing and pinching until your body is tight with tension, ready to snap and tumble into the orgasm she's been building you towards. Carol's fingers quicken their pace, drawing small tight circles over your bud as you feel your cunt tightening and the coil inside you snaps. Carol continues her thrusts, more forceful now to get past your quivering flesh. Your body shivers and shudders as the pleasure courses through you, made all the more intense by Carol's continued movements. She forces you right through this climax and violently into another. All the while you hear her voice saying how happy she is that you're together now, and that she can't wait to do this everyday. 

You're overstimulated; sore and tired. Carol slows her thrusts before pulling her fingers and cock out of you. Your body sags in relief. She removes her strap and positions herself at the head of the bed. She grabs you from your prone position and pushes you down until your head rests between her legs. Hands weave back into your hair, and she pushes your face into her slippery wet cunt, telling you to lick. You're exhausted and horrified and scared, but you lick her gently- running your tongue up and down her slit, suckling at her clit as she moans. She grabs your head in both hands and continues to maneuver you as she pleases. 

Later, after Carol comes on your tongue twice, you lay curled in her bed, shocked and softly crying. She returns from the bathroom and sits in bed beside you, stroking your hair and back. Though you know better than to question her, you simply can't process that this might be your new reality.

Occasionally Carol slips her fingers over your chest to rub and twist at your sore tits. After a while, she leans over to whisper in your ear. "You cry so pretty baby, but I only want to see you cry on my cock. So if you keep crying, I'll put you there."

A wave of horror runs through you as Carol gives you a gentle kiss on the cheek before sliding into bed behind you and tugging you close into the cocoon of her body. You wipe your tears on her pillow and pray for sleep to take you.

[dark-elf-writes]

Sally would hear Poseidon say that and immediately attack him and Poseidon would just be taking and telling everyone not to interfere because, “he fucked up and that was not what he meant to say and it was worded really fucking poorly and he deserves to get his ass beat for that”

(That line causes so many feelings in me because Poseidon is trying to apologize for the pain Percy will be forced through for being born his son and part of me has always read it as Poseidon thinking Percy would suffer less if he was never born but he’s still grateful on some level to have Percy for a son and I’m crying)

“How could you?”

It took a moment for Percy to place the words. To register the absence at his side where his mother’s warmth had been. To realize why everyone else in the room stared in shock at the two people in the center of the room.

Sally Jackson was small. It was a weird thing to think. For so much of his life Percy’s mom has seemed to be so much bigger than him. So much taller. So much more prepared to take on the world. But here in the center of the throne room turned reading circle and occasional torture chamber where Percy was not only subjected to hearing his deepest thoughts but having to watch other people react to them too she looked tiny.

In the light of Olympus his mom was so small. So mortal. And yet there she was beating against his father’s chest with closed fists as she sobbed in a mix of grief and fury.

And Poseidon, the god of the sea, the earthshaker, the stormbringer, was letting her.

“How dare you!” She screamed again, the words sounding strangled. “How dare you tell our baby that!”

Zeus rose, reaching for a bolt he wouldn’t find (all of their weapons had been confiscated after all or Percy and Ares would have slaughtered each other by now) but Poseidon waved him off. Waved Paul off too when he rose to pull her away.

“I know.” He said instead, sounding ancient and tired and full of so much grief Percy wanted to cry. “I know.”

Whether he knew why Sally was attacking him or whether he was agree with her that he deserved it Poseidon didn’t say. Simply let her slam her fists against his chest over and over until she slowed and her sons took over in full force.

It was too much. The knowledge of what Gabe had been doing to her son, of what Percy had been forced to live through to save her and the rest of the world, of each and every horror her son had been forced to live through when they hadn’t even finished the first book. Hearing Poseidon, her first love and the man who had given her the most precious gift, say it was a mistake shattered something in her.

Poseidon wrapped his arms around her, tucking her close to his bulk while she sobbed.

“I worded it poorly,” He said full of apology and anguish. Those sea green eyes met Percy’s over his mother’s head. “I am several decades out of practice with children, but that is no excuse. I should have worded it better, and by failing to do so I hurt you. I’m sorry.”

Zeus choked. Percy wondered just how many times any of the gods apologized much less one of the big three.

He didn’t know what to say. What was the protocol for a god apologizing to a mortal? Was there one? Percy doubted it.

“It’s—“

“Perseus Jackson if you say it’s fine I swear I’ll—“ Annabeth doesn’t finish whatever she is planning on doing. Percy has just enough self preservation not to push it. Barely.

But it was fine. Kind of. He knows it’s not what his dad meant. Sure it hurt but that was years ago now. It didn’t matter. It couldn’t matter. And Percy still didn’t know what to say.

“I will always be grateful that you are my son,” Poseidon said, sparing Percy. “I was simply… regretful that the life of a Halfblood, a hero, is one that is rarely peaceful. You were not a mistake. I just wish I could spare you the pain.”

That Percy knew what to do with, sort of. “I wouldn’t change it.” He said, his smile feeling gossamer thin on his face. “No matter what I wouldn’t want to be anyone other than your son. This is where I was meant to be. What I was meant to do… and Thalia would have sucked being the prophecy kid.”

“Hey!”

“You were a tree, Grace!”

“I was a damn good tree, Jackson!”

He was grateful she picked up their usual bickering so easily. Grateful Nico made a show of arguing his own merit as a prophecy kid. Grateful that the eyes turned away from him and went to the growing spectacle.

Percy honestly had no idea how they were going to make it through the rest of the books.

[tamurilofrivendell]

Forgiveness | Thranduil x Reader

Using the prompt ‘you expect forgiveness, but you refuse to ask for it’ from this list

I felt like I wanted to try some random prompts so this is what happened haha. Thranduil is a bit of an asshole in this one. One part could be triggering for certain people, I’m not sure - he does hurt/bruise the reader but it’s technically unintentional.

Thranduil had long since had you under his spell. He had been courting you for so long that everybody looked upon you as his Queen despite the fact that there had been nothing truly official to say you were yet. Before falling for your King, you had been a skilled healer and you helped on the training grounds, being fairly skilled with the sword. Ever since he claimed you as his, you had been allowed to continue on with these things. He knew it was important to you and you were an asset to his kingdom with your skills so it seemed like a no brainer. However, recently, things had started to change. He had become much more strict, a little more controlling in your opinion, forbidding you to go places and take part in things as you normally would have.

Sauron’s forces had been descending on Mirkwood the last couple of weeks, attacking with a force beyond even the Dol Goldur spiders and the stray orc packs that the realm had grown far too used to. The King and his soldiers had been going out and fighting on the front lines but you had been practically locked in your tower like a lost princess, forbidden from helping either with a weapon or offering healing on the field, and it was starting to irk you. Today, however, had been your breaking point. Instead of simply assigning someone to watch the door to the room he had ordered you to stay in, Thranduil had forcefully taken hold of your wrist, dragged you back into the room as you had insisted on leaving and locked the door, confining you like a prisoner. You had stayed there, fuming, until he finally returned from the fight, weary and unhappy, but you were not in the mood to give him space or peace.

"You expect forgiveness, but you refuse to ask for it!" You all but shouted at him. It was true, he would expect you to just forgive and forget everything that he said and did without question. This had gone on too long and you were tired of it. Tired of his attitude and his anger and his downright disregard and disrespect for you. This was not the Thranduil you had fallen in love with. This was not the Thranduil you thought you liked, let alone loved.

“I will not beg for your forgiveness.” Thranduil’s reply was cold when it finally came. You watched as he moved to pour himself a large goblet of wine and bring it to his lips. His back was to you and he didn’t bother to turn and afford you one single look, which only frustrated you further. This man had locked you in a room, taken away your freedom, forbidden you from aiding your friends and family, some of whom had died out there these last weeks!

“You don’t even regret it.” You snapped, turning on your heel and making your way to the door, intending to escape him, but he was upon you in a moment, spinning you around and walking you back towards the wall, bringing his arms up and pinning you there. As you looked up at him you felt real fear of him spike through you for the very first time. You had been apprehensive of him in the past but never like this. Your thoughts flashed back to the way he’d taken hold of your wrist to lock you in the room, his long fingers actually leaving a light trail of bruises on your skin.

“Of course I regret it!” He glared down at you as if he could not understand what you were saying. Thranduil had seen the defiance in you that morning, when the news had come of just how vicious today’s attack was, and he’d known you weren’t going to stay where he told you to stay. He knew you would sneak out or break away and he had to make absolutely certain that you wouldn’t. He couldn’t go into a fight with all of his worry about you breaking the concentration he so desperately needed. “Do you think it brings me pleasure?!” He snapped, gaze locked on your own. “To cage you like a bird?”

“Yes!” The word had slipped from your lips before you had the chance to stop it and you instantly regretted it as you watched a look of dismay cross his face. His shoulders sagged just slightly and he turned, letting the cage of his arms fall away from you as he walked back over to the wine, refilling his goblet.

“Thranduil...” His name left your lips like a prayer in the silence that followed as you watched him. If you didn’t know him well enough, you would not have noticed the way his shoulders slumped and the sad air around him as he poured his wine. Despite your anger, you forced your feet to move, slowly padding across the room towards him.

“You do not understand.” He murmured, gaze locked on the dark liquid in the cup he was holding. He threw back the contents and swallowed hard, replacing the empty cup on the table slightly harder than was necessary. He still hadn’t looked at you.

“Then help me to.” You said, frowning as you watched him purposely avoid your gaze. Arguing with him was difficult, feeling so much distance between the two of you hurt, and you just wanted more than anything to understand what had happened. Understand what you had done to make him so angry.

The room was silent for a long while. Just when you thought he wasn’t going to speak to you again, he did. “If I let you go out there.” His voice was low and rough, full of raw emotion that he was attempting to keep wrapped up. “I...” He paused, swallowing thickly. “I could lose you.”

It hit you then, in a sudden rushing realisation.

Thranduil was scared.

He wasn’t angry with you. You hadn’t done anything to displease him.

A serious danger had descended upon the Woodland Realm and he was trying to keep you safe. He was going the wrong way about it because you thought to yourself that he could have just come to you and explained this instead of treating you like he had but if there was one thing you knew about the Elvenking it was that he didn’t always deal with his emotions well. For the wellbeing of his people, sure, but when it came to his heart? Not always. Fear and loss could cripple him. He had lost his beloved wife, and those wounds still ran deeper than you thought you might ever comprehend, and his son was not here, off on a dangerous quest. He did not know if Legolas was alive or dead. You were here, in front of him, and he was trying to keep you safe.

Alive.

“Thranduil...” You closed the rest of the distance between you both and reached out, placing a hand on his chest as he finally turned to face you. He looked down and sighed, his gaze raking over the bruises he had left on your wrist earlier. He tsk’d and gently raised your wrist to his lips, pressing soft kisses to the skin. You couldn’t help but smile as you watched him. This was an apology, one you accepted with a soft smile as you could see the regret in his eyes as he saw the damage he’d left in his wake. “You should have just told me.”

“Would you have listened?” He asked quietly, looking unhappy still but his mouth did quirk up into a slight smirk as his eyes met yours again. You could tell he knew the answer would be no and he couldn’t help the fond chuckle that rumbled in his chest as he watched you lower your gaze.

“I would have tried to...” You mumbled, pressing your face against his chest to hide the blush that had crept into your cheeks when he laughed.

Thranduil didn’t say anything, he just pressed a kiss to the top of your head and wrapped his arms around you. “I am sorry... so sorry.” The words were quiet when they came. You almost didn’t hear them but when you realised what he’d said, you smiled.

You wrapped your arms around him in return and gave him a gentle squeeze, closing your eyes as you held onto him, simply relishing in the feeling of the chasm between you both being closed again, finally. “I forgive you.”

[blackfeather-raven]

Draft WARNING: Vomiting, Attempted murder, and mention of being drugged.

The night was cool and loud, the wind shook the tree and pushed the water against the shores. Orpheus shivered as the wind hit his skin, his hands came up and tried to cover his exposed skin. Goose skin rose up on his arms as he forced his feet forward.

The boy was trying to find his way home, which was not going very well. Orpheus paused looking past the tree in an attempt to find the small house he lived in. Yet all he could see was more darkness and more trees. 

“Maybe this was a bad idea…” Orpheus muttered to the wind, not searching for an answer as he regrets his decision to stay out late. He was feeling strange, 

“What’s wrong pretty boy? Lost?” A venomous voice spoke above the wind. Orpheus froze, his muscles tensed. 

“Aww, look at him, he's all scared!” Another voice closer to him teased. 

A knot formed in Orpheus’s throat, his head twisted around to find more than just two young men behind him. Even in the darkness he could see crooked smiles on their faces. It sent chills down his spine, frightening him more than any nightmare had ever.

“What- What-” A few laughed as his voice struggled. “What do- do you want?” Orpheus tried to sound firm, strong, and yet everything was a struggle against the knot in his throat.

One of the men walked closer to him, making their height and size very obvious. Orpheus was tall for his age, but lean that wouldn’t go away no matter how much he ate. The boy walking towards him was fit, but he was shorter than Orpheus.

“What’s wrong, hm? Come on pretty boy, speak up!” the boy snarled angrily as he reached up to shove Orpheus into a large trunk. Without permission Orpheus’s voice let out a scared whine that made those twisted grins grow larger.

Everything happened too fast for Orpheus’s dazed mind to keep up. One moment Orpheus had his back to a tree, words were thrown at him like blades. His words were caught in his throat as more and more people began to crowd him. Then he was on the grass with pain in his torso, the voices around him were blurring together into hateful noises. Then someone grabbed his hair and yanked on his curls to his feet and pulled him along. 

Orpheus’s eyes were blurring, but he could feel the change from grass to sand. He could feel the change from cool air to frigid water and rocks. His hair was yanked back again the cool air hit his face, before his head was shoved under the water. His nose hit a rock and he felt a sharp pain throb through his face. 

‘Am I going to die?’ A stray somewhat coherent thought went through his mind. ‘Are they going to kill me?” Somehow the fear in his mind became louder and the throbbing of his heart was filling his ears. 

‘I do not want to die- please I don’t want to die! Please make it stop!’ Orpheus' mind screamed as his lung ached. ‘Patér! Patér they are going to kill me!’ His mind cried out as the tirednesses clawed at his brain. 

His head was pulled up again and wasn’t pushed back under again. Instead his body was pulled away from the water and onto the sand. Or at least it felt like sand, he had his eyes closed, he wasn’t sure when he closed his eyes but he couldn’t open them. He also noticed that he couldn’t hear anything other than his pound heart. 

Breathing was just as difficult out of the water as it had been under. His breaths were short and felt like swallowing fire. His head throbbed in pain The only thing that Orpheus could focus on that didn’t hurt was the sand. The sand felt soft under his skin. The sand was the only soft thing he could feel that gave him comfort, until something warm pressed under his chin. 

Something smooth ran over his temples and combed through his hair. Something clattered in his ear, pulling his focus away from the sound of his heart. His eyelids twitched and the weight of them seemed to ease slightly. He cracked both of his eyes open and was greeted by a large white and black blur covering his entire vision. 

The clattering continued as his hair was combed. It took his mind too long to clear, but once most of the heaviness and fizzing faded away he realized. 

Realized the thing running through his hair was a beak and the black and gray blur was not just any sort of bird. It was Jessamy. His patér’s raven hopped back to look at him. 

“Orpheus…?” Jessamy clittered her beak as she spoke. “Orpheus, dearie are you okay?” She hopped closer to run her beak over his cheek. 

“Jess…” He slurred, but immediately his throat clogged. Twisting his head around and away from her, as a burning pain surged up his throat and he vomited up sea water. He could hear worried clicking as she pressed up to the back of his neck. 

Having twisted his head around he spotted movement behind him. Something lanky and dark was hovering over white figures on the ground, he could hear broken sobs coming from that direction too. 

“Pa…?” His voice crooked out, before he felt the burning pain in his throat again. 

The dark figure jerked back and it twisted unnaturally around and bright red dots were staring down at him. It made it easier to see the large jagged pearly white teeth in its mouth. Its face was thin and so black it stood out from the darkness around it. It looked like it was pulling the darkness into it actually. It looked like a creature that one could only see in one's nightmares.

“Orpheus…” The voice sounded like it was under water, but it still wrapped around Orpheus like a protective hold. 

Orpheus-if he had been in the right mind-would have been embarrassed how easily he shattered and let out a broken sob from the one word. In a blink of an eye that nightmare creature was gone. Soon a black haired and pale man that Orpheus knew very well. 

“Hush now my son…” Morpheus soothed as he took a few long strides over to his son. “Those men cannot harm you any longer, they will never look at you again.” There was a hint of anger in his tone, but it was hidden from his expression. The King of Dream’s slowly and carefully slid his hands under Orpheus’s chest and lifted him off the sand and out of his own vile. 

Orpheus whined at the sudden spike of pain in his body as he was cradled in his patér’s arms. Twitching his hand he brought them up and curled them around the black silk of his robe. His tears and blood soaked into the dream made fabric. 

“My son…” Morpheus murmured, panic laced in its edges. “I promise you are safe now… Is it the pain?” Gently he smooths the brown hair on Orpheus’s head. 

“Get him home my lord, Calliope can call Asclepius to help,” Jessamy spoke when landing on her lord's shoulder to look down at his young boy.

“Of course…” He whispered, used his robe to whip the vomit off of Orpheus’s cheek. The sand around them rose from the ground and began to circle the father, son and bird. 

[shushiyuii]

Hello shushiyuii! I just wanted to share an Idea for a possible continuation of the "safety from exile" oneshot you made a while ago.

My Idea is that after Ranboo rescued Tommy he now lives with them to hide from Dream. But one day there is an unexpected knock on the door and they both panic so Ranboo noms Tommy to keep him hidden. However it's Tubbo at the door and not Dream like they feared. Ranboo invites Tubbo inside because he can tell that somethings bothering him. So the two(three) of them hang out for awhile and Tubbo slowly opens up about his problems. He admits he's feeling stressed because he's worried about Tommy and that he regrets exiling him. Tommy who was listening in from Ranboo's stomach wants to comfort him so he tells Ranboo to let him out. He does and what follows is a heartfull Clingyduo reunion where they make up followed by benchtrio cuddles. Possibly with Tubbo nomming Tommy to reassure himself that Tommy is safe and back with him. So yeah. That's my Idea. I'd love it if you could write something like that but I understand if you don't want to/don't have the time. I hope you have a nice day

Words: 1,342

Warnings: Mention of death, depression, starving and thirst. Other than that it's mainly hurt/comfort

Notes: I am impulsively writing this at 3am so im sorry for any grammar mistakes. this is the first time i've written in a while, i can't say itll be any good or anything. I don't think this is some return either

But in general regards to an update. Im doing fine and I love this idea btw, im sorry if isn't up to standard.

“N-no…I don’t want… STOP!”, whatever remained of his voice screeched. It felt forced, harsh. When was the last time he had drank anything besides salty sea water? When was the last time he had a proper food source that wasn’t something he could forage?

He lifted the sheets from his side and shivered from the rags that covered his body, despite being probably tucked in. The sudden change in temperature didn’t do his fuzzy head much favors either. 

“Fucking…”, he couldn’t finish the ramble. He fiddled with what remained in his pockets for anything but found nothing, no health potion to quell his aching head. Despite that, he stood up. Wiping his eyes from the uneasiness of waking up.

He let out a yawn as he examined his surroundings, they were not all too familiar to him. It didn’t feel natural. The other day he was handling explosions to the body as if it were any normal everyday occurrence. Anything ordinary felt the opposite. Nowhere felt safe anymore.

He knew where he was though, despite everything. A dried and empty sigh passed his lips, devoid of emotion. He was tired, so tired yet he managed. He wasn’t surprised that the emotional backlash was now hitting him.

He turned to a mirror, he’s surprised that Ranboo even kept one in his room. Typically endermen hate the stares of people, including their own reflections. Perhaps Ranboo was immune to its effects. 

He was sickly pale, his hair matted so far that he could hardly recall how he used to keep it kept. Whatever remained of his shirt was rotted, the bright red faded and shoulder exposed. His trousers that had stayed with him through war were now barely held together with strings in his opinion, they’d practically turned to shorts.

His eyes… People used to say they were full of ambition, promise… A burning passion that could surpass even the god’s wills, was now hollow and dull. Is this how Theseus felt during his fall?

It mattered not, whatever safety he had was only temporary. Even now, he should be cautious. He would be considered a fugitive. 

A knock came from the door, he was quick to alert. The next thing he knew was instinct was taking over him and he hid behind the door frame and grabbed whatever he could to be a weapon, a golden hoe.

It wouldn’t cause much damage but it could certainly knock them to confusion for a short while if hit in the right spots. He readied himself, prepared that it would take his last life. He was always prepared for this, it was what he had been trained for in war. 

He was pretty sure Techno taught him that.

Steady breaths, aim…

STRIKE!

An inhumane sound spat out from whoever tried to enter, alerted. They had managed to dodge the boy’s sabotage. The hoe had now struck into the floorboards, whatever strength or adrenaline he used during that swing was all that had remained of his strength as he fell to the ground.

“Tommy!”, the hybrid called out in a hurry, worried. He had no care for his near death, concerns immediately went to his friend. Tommy wiped his brow which had accumulated sweat and looked to Ranboo, deep in his eyes.

He flinched at the sudden eye contact but remained, usually that would trigger an enderman but Ranboo remained still, unmoving. 

He hadn’t noticed he wasn’t breathing at all and coughed out whatever was left of his charcoaled lungs. Letting out an old man's cough, he wasn’t even a smoker like Wilbur had been. How fucked were his lungs?

He eventually managed to get his breath back and stood up properly, still winded but having calmed down from his unnecessary reaction. He knew he was in no danger, but his body still reacted that way.

Some things just don't change, do they?

[...]

After the unnecessary scare, Ranboo had brought him to a common room and only now he had realized how big this place was. Wherever he was, it wasn’t familiar in the slightest. It was all new to him.

But even then, he could tell the place was new. The smell of freshly cut oak and lack of decorated pots and chairs or lavish tables, the place was newly constructed. It was probably an estate if he had to guess, Ranboo’s estate.

He had also been given a red sweater, stained with blue. He was told that it was a sweater handed out to guests, but by the faded blue stains. He knew who had come here previously, he shoved down any emotion that threatened his integrity. 

Ranboo had also given him a pair of tidy black trousers, although they were a little too big for Tommy, he didn’t mind. It was better than nothing but rags. He missed the feeling of clothes, it felt like some of his barriers had been rebuilt. Ever so slightly.

Across the table was Ranboo, trying to shove some bread in Tommy’s direction. It was neatly sliced but it was only simple plain bread, no butter nor jam. The hybrid said to eat small and soft, due to his starvation.

But he couldn’t help but start craving himself a feast of glorious potatoes, golden apples to quell any aches, the cleanest of water. But the thought also made him sick to his stomach, the thought of food was enough to make him dizzy.

He hated it. 

“You’re safe”.

Safety means nothing, not anymore. Safety was Wilbur, Techno, home. All gone, stripped away, abandoned or dead. It wasn’t worth anything to mourn anymore, everything he once had was already gone. Even the last person he’d consider close had tossed him aside in what he’d call hell.

He couldn’t bring himself to respond, only shaking his head.

…

“You’re already in a bad condition. Eat.”, a familiar voice spoke. But it wasn’t the person in front of him, instead it was from straight behind him. The enderian’s ears twitched anxiously before his pupils dilated his relief and what seemed to be happiness.

Though, he wasn’t happy. Far from it. He never wanted to see the face again, at least not now. Before he knew it, he had already thrown a punch to the already scorned face. The boy fell back a step yet remained upwards. 

He didn’t have enough strength to put him in the ground, funnily enough.

A blind eye stared back at him, he couldn’t discern any emotion. Since his face had been burnt and scarred from fireworks. It left him blinded in one eye, deaf in an ear. Though, from the body posture, he wasn’t mad in the slightest.

For what reason?

“Ow”, was all he mumbled before turning back to Tommy. His face in concern, no anger. Perhaps even pity.

It only fueled him with more anger.

He pushed the shorter one to the ground, straddling him as he put whatever remained of his strength and fury into beating the one under him, screaming as though he were in a war zone. 

Stop.

Stop.

Stop.

Stop. 

I'm so sorry.

Just please.

Stop.

None of his punches made any impact, the boy had managed to block them with ease. The first was now cradled gently within his palm.

Stop it.

He gently shoved Tommy off, enough so that he could sit up. 

Why?

Pity?

He embraced the boy over the shoulders, attempting to cradle him as though he were a child. 

He’s taking advantage…

Why aren’t I mad?

Didn’t I hate him?

His shoulders shook with sobs. Resting against his neck. 

“Let it out. Forget about anything else. Let’s just pretend for 5 minutes that things are like they should be.”.

A copy of mellohi started playing quietly and softly.

When had he shrunk? He didn’t know. All he could process was that he was in safety of his friends' scorned hands, promising to keep him safe. Nuzzling and muttering reassurances as he let out the cries of his own.

A small smile poked from Ranboo’s fanged lips.

[dotster001]

Plans Carefully Laid

Summary: Enstars Yandere self aware au! X gn! Reader. Mayoi and Ibara are each working to find you. Meanwhile, Eichi is finally starting to heal your scars.

CW: yandere stuff, unhealthy mindsets, kidnapping, brief allusions to drugging, spying.

Inspired by the self aware au by @yandere-daze

A/N: So um.... it's been a long time since the last part, and we have had a lot of new people since then. Whoops 😂 I think there will be one or two more parts to this....but with my track record, it could be a while.

Part One: Anzu Part Two: Paradise Lost Part Four: Changing Tides

Ensemble Square had been dead since you’d vanished. With no guidance, no one found any purpose in going to work anymore. To Mayoi, however, an empty ES was a dream come true. True he had lost all purpose in his life when you’d vanished, and had been horribly depressed, but at least he had somewhere to hide and deal with his despair without people around.

And it was because of this that he saw Anzu leaving with you.

He knew where she lived, so he waited a bit, then went to her apartment. There, he heard her telling you lies. Lies that they all hated you. Lies that they wanted to hurt you. Lies that Anzu was the only one who loved you.

He decided to keep watch for a while, and update his unit mates to the situation. Naturally, all three of them were wildly upset about the way things were going, but they realized they were in no position to get you away from Anzu. So they waited.

Mayoi was regretting that now. He watched as Eichi strolled into the apartment, attempted to talk with you, then when that failed, had his men put you to sleep and take you to his home.

He watched Eichi calmly wait for Anzu, explain the situation, then leave. He watched Anzu break down, and then become unresponsive.

He reported back with shaky hands. He received a startling response.

Hiiro is looking for reinforcements.

                                              ….

Ibara was furious with himself. He’d been monitoring the ES cameras for a while now, and had noticed that Anzu had found you.

He had planned to wait a bit, and swoop in with the rest of Eden to be your saviors, thus earning your undying trust and loyalty.

He had waited too long. You were now in the Emperor’s clutches. Extracting you would be nearly impossible. But he wasn’t the scummiest man in the world for nothing.

“Your Excellency,” he said, greeting Nagisa who was halfheartedly cleaning his rock collection. “I have found the producer.”

                                                ….

You were finally eating. Eichi had been worried that first couple of weeks. You had refused to eat anything, fearing he’d poisoned it. You’d refused to sleep. You’d just sat in that corner begging him not to hurt you. 

You must have realized that if he was going to kill you he would have done it, because you were eating now. You still wouldn’t make eye contact with him, or sleep in the bed he’d provided, but it was a start.

The only one he’d told that you were here was Wataru, but he wasn’t ready for you two to meet yet. He wanted it to be a special and happy first meeting, and you weren’t in the mental state for that yet.

You must have been crying again, because your face was all red and puffy. As you started slowly eating, he pressed a hand softly against your cheek. You stiffened, but continued eating. You didn't scream or pull away from him. You let him touch you. He was ecstatic.

He knelt down next to you, softly caressing your cheek.

"Y/N," he whispered lovingly.

"What did Anzu tell you?" He asked.

"She," you choked, and had to start again. "She said you all hated me because I controlled your lives. She said that if some of you got the chance, you would hurt me, or kill me, or both."

Eichi wanted to cry hearing what you thought of him and the others. They loved you, they worshiped you, and you believed that they would hurt you.  He would have to have words with Anzu (again) after this.

That she would go to such lengths to keep you to herself…

Although…

He was beginning to understand why.