#i think i've distanced myself enough from the horrors that i can go back to it

[lazuliquetzal]

hey it's me lazuliquetzal i changed my icon

[mias-blogs]

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆, 𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐔𝐀𝐋 𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐒𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐀𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃.

𝐒𝐀/𝐑𝐀𝐏𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐓.

(I'm writing this as a victim myself, if your not comfortable, please click out. this is comfort from SA by Record of Ragnarok characters, this may be triggering to some but I'm only writing this as comfort since I've been having flashbacks from the invent, please be careful, I don't want to accidently trigger a victim.)

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬: 𝐀𝐝𝐚𝐦 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐁𝐮𝐝𝐝𝐡𝐚.

𝐀𝐃𝐀𝐌.

He first noticed your behavior when you were more comfortable around Eve then you were with him, of course, it's not like it bothered him, but you would act like you were scared of him, avoid him, scared of his touch, he then picked up on how you weren't doing this to only him but also towards any man or male god, it seemed strange to him on why you were acting like this around them when you were seemingly fine with any woman or female goddess.

He asked Eve about, seeking her help to understand what was wrong, Eve hesitated to actually tell him but eventually did. He was in horror to stay the least, as well as in rage, he fully well knew that life can be cruel, but he wasn't expecting that you went through something that vile, he felt his stomach twist in that moment, slightly afraid that he might have reminded you of the invent with any of his actions.

You were sitting by a cliff, looking up at Valhalla's sunset, feeling the breeze against your face, your feet slightly tangling by the edge of the floating island, that had many of them all around Valhalla, your hands touching the soft grass as you enjoyed the peace, you hear foot steps approaching you slowly from behind, excepting to see Eve, your body slightly froze when you saw Adam approaching.

“May I sit next to you?” the father of humanity asked quietly, you hesitated for a moment before you nodded, moving a bit so he wouldn't sit close to you, you were slightly surprised when the man sat a good distance away from you, enough for you to be comfortable, making your shoulders slightly relax. “ I... heard what.. happened to you.” those words made your body tense up once again, he noticed that and hesitated with his next words.

“I'm aware you probably see me as a threat, but I can tell you, I would never hurt you, you are my child just like the rest of humanity, I know that seems hard to believe when you've been through a nightmare, but I would like for you to warm up to me, if you think it's possible.” the man's fatherly voice almost makes you tear up, you've never heard those words from a man, both his words and voice was comforting.

The man smiled gently as he extended his hand out to you slowly, wanting to see if you'd take it or not, understanding you need your space and you wouldn't quite like physical touch from a man. Your eyes glanced up at his, his gaze was gentle and fatherly, for once, you didn't feel threatened by someone's touch, you hesitated, but you know understood that he wasn't like the person who hurt you, he isn't.

You took his hand, a smiled bloomed on your face, he isn't going to hurt you and that fact was almost comforting, he smiled back as he extended his other arm for a hug but stopped. “May I?” he asked, looking down at you and waiting if you'd approve or not, this was a bigger step, but he gave you time and space to think, you nodded in acceptance once again as he pulled you close for a hug, careful not to startle you.

His hug was fatherly and gentle yet warm, you let out a breath of relief, this was comforting, like a father hugging his young child. “It's alright, your father is here now, he'll protect you.”

𝐁𝐔𝐃𝐃𝐇𝐀.

Buddha had always noticed that you were much more comfortable around him then any other man or male god, he thought it was the same reason as him at first, not quite liking the gods are they're personality, but you also behaved like that around mortal men so it confused him at first on your behavior, he asks you about it but noticed you seemed uncomfortable, so he backed off on the topic

When the friendship slowly started to grow into something more comfortable and romantic for the both of you, Buddha had himself asking the same question to himself, you seemed more comfortable with women and goddesses and you personality completely shifted when around any man that wasn't him, which confused him once again, so he decided to ask for a second time.

“ Hey, [nickname], why do ya act so different around gods and men?” The question left the lips of the god as he stopped sucking on his lollipop for a second, his eyes glancing back at you as he patiently waiting for you to answer his question, blinking a couple of times as you greatly hesitated to speak up, you mind flooding with many thoughts, would he think any different of you? was he going to believe you? will he think that your dirty?

You decided to swallow the lump in your throat as you talked to him about what happened and what made you act this way, you could feel the tears coming to your eyes, your voice stopping in its tracks as you could barely talk without stuttering, Buddha's eyes looked down at you before reaching forward and hugging you close, hiding your face in his chest so you could sob.

You were shocked for a moment before you wrapped your arms around the god, sobbing in his chest as he held you tightly and stroked your hair, his teeth pressed together tightly as he looked slightly angry, not at you, how could he be angry at you? he was angry he wasn't there to stop it, angry that the person that did this got away with it like nothing happened, but here you were sobbing in his chest.

“It's alright.. no need to worry, nothin’ is gonna happen to you while I'm here.” he kissed the top of your head gently, his eyes shut tightly as he hugged you close to his chest, he's not going to let anyone touch you ever again.

[hoseokslefteyebrow]

Weak

Pairing : More of a platonic Miguel O' Hara X Reader

Genre : Angst

Summary : Miguel hates feeling weak, something that you understand more than anyone else.

Request/story idea by: @quimerathetraveler

Wordcount: 0.9 k

Miguel O'Hara Masterlist

( A/N: I’m trying different personalities to see whatever works with his character best, lemme know what ya’ll think. )

Miguel's eyes dart all over the area. 

He's injured, badly. A deep gash is crossed over his ribs, and not even the spray supplied by his suit for emergencies is doing him much good.

On top of that, he's exhausted, years of taking care of the multiverse having caught up to him.

" Boss, we got hi- Oh, no." The voice of one of the spider woman who he's come to help speaks as she notices his injury.

He's hunched over, holding his side whilst taking rough deep breaths. He feels vulnerable, hates having everyone' eyes on him.

" Boss, we should get you help!-" MJ calls, taking her mask off.

" No. I'm fine. Bring the anomaly to HQ, I'll get there myself."

MJ is visibly distraught by his words, but does what he says, not wanting to face whatever negative reaction he could bring up in his pain.

As she disappears, he doubles over, nearly forgetting that Jessica and you are at the scene as well.

Jessica sighs deeply before reacting.

" Miguel, maybe we should help. I doubt you'd be able to get back by yourself-"

He glares from the corner of his eye at her.

" I can do it, just g-"

" No you can't. "

Now his eyes shift to you.

Admittedly, he doesn't know you really well, even though your powers are the only ones that are similar to his. You have talons, venomous teeth and superhuman hearing and sight as well. He's barely ever spoken to you before though.

" I-"

" Don't argue with me. I'll jab you in your wound if you're going to be a baby about it. " You scoff, your eyes showing disinterest as you move to help him.

He glares at you, but it doesn't seem to deter you in the slightest.

He's not necessarily surprised to. You've been through a lot in your own universe, the horrors you had to face giving you a pass without doubt into the spider team. You're physically not one of the strongest, but you're fearless, making you one of the stronger ones of the team anyway. It would take a lot more than his glare to shake you.

He can't help but feel puzzled and surprised as you lift his arm over your shoulder. You sync both of your watches, and soon enough you're tearing a gateway with your claws back into universe 2099.

Everyone is surprised when the both of you step into HQ, Jessica having gone back on her own.

Miguel hates the feeling he gets when everyone shares worried glances, them never having seen their boss so vulnerable before.

You must've noticed.

" What? Did none of you ever seen someone injured?" You call out roughly.

Most of the spiders turn their heads. All except Hobie, who gives Miguel a blank look as he so often does before nodding at you.

Hobie and you get along well, the only difference being that Hobie creates a lot of trouble and has quite a big mouth, whilst you refrain in the back. The calm before the storm.

Eventually, you carry him to the infirmary, and help him sit down on one of the beds.

" Will you be okay or do you need me to call a medic?" You ask, creating distance between the two of you again as you step back, leaning against a wall.

" I'll be fine." He says gruffly.

You nod, but don't move away.

He glances at you again, ignoring the sudden spinning in his head.

" What? You can go." He pushes.

" I'm waiting for you to pass out. I'll call a medic after." You tell him nonchalantly, crossing your arms over one another.

He sighs, knowing you're right. He needs help. He can't do it by himself this time. 

He doesn't want any more people to see him like this though.

" Can you.... help me?" He asks, looking away with an embarrassing pink dust on his cheeks.

Your eyes widen, surprise evident before they harden again, and you nod.

" I've never done this on someone else other than myself though."

You don't say anything else as you wordlessly get to work.

He tends to forget that you've been alone for a very long time before you joined the team.

You stitch up his wounds carefully, and honestly quite messy. He still rather has this than having more people see him like this.

When you're done, you run a careful finger over the stitches to make sure they're secure before stepping away.

" This is the best I can do. Good luck with it." You tell him, going back to your stoic demeanor.

You turn to leave, not expecting a reply, when he grasps your wrist with his right hand.

You tense in response, not being used to physical contact. Upon noticing it, he lets go.

" Thank you.."

You glance at him, your eyes not betraying your emotions this time as you nod.

" Yeah... Don't get used to it."

[lunalillyhbhb]

Roommates

Chapter 1

The room I've rented out for the next 3 months is in a nice 3 bedroom house, with a shared bathroom and basic kitchen amenities. It's a 15 minute drive from the hospital I'll be interning at, and has all the basic stores around me in walking distance. My room is a single bedroom, window facing the busy streets. The other 2 rooms are occupied by a couple (mid 20s) in the master bedroom, and a man in his late 20s. All of us know of each other, but rarely ever interact, with our schedules never lining up. Which is perfect for me. Most of the time when I'm home, the house is empty and I'm free to do whatever I want.

Being in my mid 20s myself, my body is for most part full of vigor and energy, but mentally waay too tired. With rotations going on, I'm pushed to my limits almost every day, trying my best to impress the residents and other doctors around me.

It's the middle of the week, and my night shift finally gets over at 6 am. It's been a rough day so far, and I decide that I really need some time to myself, to let of steam in a healthy way. Already looking forward to playing with my toys, I rush back, ideas running through my head. Running up the stairs, I feel my heartbeat pick up pace, and my arousal grows. I jangle the keys in the lock in a hurry and quickly step in, fully expecting the house to be empty, as it usually is in the mornings. A quick peruse through the rooms confirms my suspicions, and the locked doors tells me no one is home, perfect.

I rush into my room, half heartedly closing the door behind me and messily removing my shirt and pants, stripping down to bra and underwear. My heart starts thundering in my chest and the familiar ache spreads throughout my body, from my chest slowly making its way down to my clit. I grab my steth and phone, select my favourite heartbeat video I can find on youtube, and start stething myself.

With one ear in the steth and the other ear listening to the video, a cacophony of strong thuds fills my brain, echoing inside all corners of my body. I feel my underwear dampen, and know that I'm close. Very close. A soft moan escapes my mouth and I slide my fingers between my throbbing clit, fully wet and needy for more stimulation.

As I start rubbing faster, I suddenly hear the door next to me click.

Shit.

Someone's home.

What do I do? My eyes quickly dart to my door and to my horror, it's slightly ajar. Anyone in the hall could catch a glimpse of me in this extremely vulnerable position.

My mind goes into panic and my already fast heart starts beating much, much more strongly. I feel her squeezing each muscle with her all, and my chest vibrates with every hammering beat and sweat dots my chest.

Somehow.....I am even more turned on. The fear of this situation has kicked my heart into overdrive, and I feel my fingers working faster, weaving its way into all my sweet spots.

Outside my door, I hear feet shuffling and catch a glimpse of my male roommate.

Am I heard? Am I quiet enough? Is my heart pounding so loudly that he can hear it? Did her hear my moans?

The feeling of the possibility of being heard further pushes my heart to her limits, and I try my best to not let my moans escape me. My body shakes and quivers more, unable to resist the waves of pleasure overcoming me. My heartbeat pounds loudly in my ears and my pussy is soaking wet and at my highest, i cup my mouth unable to curb the soft moan that escapes.

finally, a few seconds after, post nut clarity hits. Fuck what was I thinking? He definitely heard me. Or did he? I stay absolutely still on my bed and try to hear out for any noises. A few seconds pass, I hear a soft sigh and feet shuffling back to the door. With a soft click I confirm that he's back in his room and his door is closed.

Immediately jumping into action, I shut my door close, stethoscope still pressed firmly into my heart and phone video long since over. I hear as my heart beats faint but so quickly, I can't believe I almost exposed myself to a complete stranger! That too my roommate? Who knows what he would've done if he felt uncomfortable, he might've complained to the landlord and had me kicked out!

Next time I ever decide to play with myself, I better make sure no one is around, no matter how tired I am.

[hearteyespierce]

Slowest writer in the world continues fulfilling kiss meme prompts! I have several others in progress haha and am continuing to work through them at whatever pace my brain allows.

sidhawk + a kiss in greeting for @serpercival — this ended up going in a different direction than planned and I had to wrangle myself back in the direction of the prompt 😅 I hope you enjoy, friend! episode tag: s08 e17, Heal Thyself

Hawkeye is the only one in the Swamp when the door creaks open. BJ is still in Post Op, Charles is still languishing in Potter's tent, and Newsome is… Well. Newsome is in Post Op too, but not as a surgeon right now. When he hears light steps and the soft thump of a bag being dropped on the cot that had been Steve's before the unexpected move to Post Op, Hawkeye doesn't move from where he's been flat on his back, staring at the canvas ceiling since his own shift in Post Op had ended. Without Newsome, the deluge had been brutal. Untenable. He doesn't know where their record stands now, but there's no way it's sitting pretty at 97% anymore.

Hawkeye has never lost so many limbs or so many patients in a session for the entire two years he's been stuck in this hellhole.

"I hear the VIP tent is full of nurses with the mumps," Sidney says, cool as a cucumber, from where he stands at the foot of his newly claimed cot.

"Yeah," Hawkeye mumbles, finally moving just enough to turn his head and see Sidney looking at him with that soft, solemn smile of his. "You'll have to slum it in the Swamp with us rats tonight."

"I can imagine worse fates."

"You ought'a share them with Charles," Hawkeye manages a halfhearted grin along with his lackluster verbal parry. "His imagination could probably use a boost. Then again, if he manages to survive bunking with the Colonel, he might change his tune."

Sidney's warm chuckle settles over him, lodging in his chest with a familiar warmth, and he heaves himself over, rolling onto his side to face Sidney fully. He's glad to see him. He's always glad to see Sidney really, whether he's just here for the conference, or for a patient, or just to visit. He wishes Sidney was just here for a visit now.

"You look like you could use a boost, yourself," Sidney hums, still observing Hawkeye from the distance of his cot, and seems utterly unfazed by Hawkeye's miserable snort in response. "Do I have two patients for the price of one this time?"

Hawkeye considers the question for a moment. It's not a terrible thought, but it's hitting a little too close to home, all things considered. He's not ready to look too closely at the similarities between himself and Steve Newsome right now. "I'll be alright, Sid," he says finally, and when Sidney simply raises a disbelieving eyebrow at him, he sighs. "It was just… I've seen combat fatigue before, Sidney. But this… this was…"

Bone chilling? Like an omen? And I'm not even superstitious, Sidney, but it felt like looking into a mirror and seeing myself a few more months of this in?

"Different?" Sidney offers, and Hawkeye nods. "I thought it might have been. It's one thing when it's a man coming in from the front lines. Someone who's been in battle, seeing and experiencing all these horrors that you never see directly yourself. But Dr. Newsome—"

"Hey, Dr. Freedman?" Hawkeye cuts in wearily, and Sidney looks at him with what might be real surprise for what Hawkeye thinks could be the first time. Any other time, he might have considered it an achievement, but now he's too exhausted to enjoy it. "Think I can talk to Sidney for a bit instead of being psychoanalyzed?"

Sidney is quiet for a moment, considering.

"I'm surprised to hear you don't consider them one in the same," Sidney replies and Hawkeye can't tell if the man sitting across from him is hurt by the accusation or relieved by the reassurance that Hawkeye sees him as more than just his job.

"Sorry," Hawkeye says as Sidney's gaze softens and he hauls himself up to a seated position, gracelessly crossing his legs underneath his hunched torso. "Sorry, it's just… it's been a long day."

"So I've heard."

Finally, Hawkeye reaches a tentative hand out and Sidney immediately takes his lead along with his hand, as he steps closer and crouches down in front of Hawkeye's cot. His eyes are shining and Hawkeye knows there are thousands of thoughts whirring behind them that Sidney is keeping at bay for the moment. He still hasn't let go of Hawkeye's hand. Hawkeye squeezes it gently, feeling each of Sidney's fingers, counting the pads of them against his palm. It feels grounding, in a way, and he closes his eyes, sighing.

"I'm glad you're here."

"Any time," Sidney murmurs and Hawkeye finds that of all the people who could make that kind of promise to him in this moment, Sidney is one of the few that he thinks he could still believe. He feels Sidney's lips pressing against his forehead, there and then gone an instant later, but his fingers remain in Hawkeye's, his slight but steady presence weighing in front of him like an anchor, even without being able to see him.

But they can't stay like this forever.

"Shouldn't you be visiting Newsome instead of worrying about little old me?" Hawkeye asks, taking a breath and opening his eyes, trying for a moment to straighten out his posture before grimacing and melting back into his usual slouch.

"Trying to get rid of me already?" Sidney asks, his familiar wry smile teasing at the corners of his lips. "I only just got here. Besides, I think Dr. Newsome is still asleep."

"Ahh, so I'm just the backup," Hawkeye grins. "I get it. Always a mistress, never a wife…"

"I don't know," Sidney hums, watching Hawkeye with indulgent amusement. "Whenever I come to the 4077th, seeing you almost feels like coming home, feygele."

"I think your sense of direction is a little twisted, Sidney. Brooklyn is what… 7,000 miles away?" He grins when Sidney rolls his eyes, and Hawkeye pulls him in a little closer by their joined hands. "Welcome home, then, honey. Dinner's on the table if you go to the mess tent, but don't you dare accuse me of making it."

Sidney chuckles and Hawkeye really ought to thank him for what has to be a pity laugh. It certainly wasn't one of his best jokes. But instead, he leans forward. Sidney meets him halfway, keeping Hawkeye from tipping out of the cot and knocking him flat on his back, and the tension leaks out of his body, sinking into Sidney's grasp which has let go of his hand to steady his hip with one and cup his face with the other. He can almost forget the haunted look in Steve's eyes when he'd sat frozen on Potter's floor, the lurid, vibrant red of his gloves. The more he focuses on Sidney's presence, the more distant it all feels.

When they break apart to breathe, Hawkeye doesn't pull away. Just rests his forehead against Sidney's, for once, allowing someone else to keep him from collapsing.

[mooncaps]

Starting to feel like I'm chasing my tail trying to understand my gender. Every time I think I've settled on some new understanding and acceptance of myself, some new unsettled feeling creeps in. First I feel like I'm just a guy who likes girly stuff, then I feel like I've been in denial about being a girl, then I feel like I'm not either, and back around again.

I've been re-examining a lot of my life. Looking at old files on my computer, listening to songs I haven't listened to in years, going through Tumblr posts from 10 years ago and LiveJournal posts from even further back, looking at old photographs, and just reflecting on my own memories.

There are some things in my past that make me think: was I a girl? At the very least I've always been drawn to exploring femininity, even from an extremely young age. And it keeps coming up even as an adult. I remember weeping after watching the Princess Cookie episode of Adventure Time, wishing that I could have a moment of feeling like a princess. More than one thing has made me wish I could be a shapeshifter, most recently Nimona. If I could just feel like something and shift into looking like it, secure in the knowledge that I could shift back, that would be heaven. And F1nn5ter giving me a glimpse of a life I never could have dreamed was possible sent me spiraling into chaos.

On the other hand, I can remember being eager to perform masculinity. I wanted to be good at being a guy. I still wanted to be a sensitive guy who liked Sailor Moon and Days of Our Lives, but I also wanted to be a handsome, masculine-looking guy. Was it just about thinking that's what success was? Was it about wanting to attract romantic partners? Or was it about liking that version of me? There are a couple of photos of me in my late teens looking handsome that still make me smile.

And maybe genderfluid really is the long and short of it. But even if it is, I'd still like to get to a place where I feel like I'm steering the ship instead of the ship steering me.

If I am a girl, even just some of the time, then I'm extremely anxious about facing that fact and the ramifications of what it means. I'm at anxiety levels I haven't hit since the days following the 2016 Election. The weight on my chest, difficulty sleeping because my mind won't stop trying to problem-solve, difficulty settling into leisure activities, and the worst moments bring shivering cold. I'm not generally a person who gets chilly, let alone shivering cold, especially in the summertime. I can't tell if that anxiety is coming from a fear that it's not really who I am, if it's coming from a manic desire to figure it all out, or if it's coming from a fear of being judged and being the central target in this era of politics.

I'm about ready to throw up my hands and give up on defining it. My gender is a tangled ball of yarn and pulling the strings is just tightening the tangles. My gender is an Eldritch horror, unknowable to the mortal mind; I thought I understood it for just a moment before it became incomprehensible again and started driving me to madness. My gender is a murky fog, dense enough to make its presence known, but it fades into the distance as I approach and it's impossible to grasp.

[deathvisited]

3 months after being taken

her hand shook as it held the pen, her eyes lifting to look at her closed and locked door before swivelling to the camera in the corner. biting her lip she scooted up the bed, raising her knees and using them as a desk before she started writing.

"hey baby girl, you'll be a year old in a month, and I can hardly believe it. i know you probably won't ever believe me but I wanted to see your first birthday, watch you smash vanilla cake in your cute chubby face, hear you laugh and giggle when your daddy picked you up. i didn't want to leave baby girl, i know no matter what you're gonna have the best birthday ever. I'm sorry i won't be there to see you go through this milestone, and while I'm not there physically i am mentally, i won't forget. I'll light a candle for you. and i know you probably don't understand why I'm not there, that you probably miss me, but momma's trying to save you from the same fate i went through. i will protect you, and I've come to accept that where i am right now that's the best thing i can do. you have been the best thing that ever happened to me." she sniffled, wiping her cheeks as tears rolled down them, leaning back and biting her lip. things had been hard for a long time with fia, she'd struggled a lot, she knew she had, she hadn't always been the best mom, but she'd done her very best. she was still struggling with everything, and the fact that she had to hide all of it just made it all the harder. "i know that your daddy has probably talked to you about me, but if he hasn't don't blame him too much, you know? he's doing his best to look after his family, he's always done that. you are in the best place i could hope for, and i just wish i was there with you."

6 months after being taken

verity was nursing the bruise with a glass of scotch sitting beside her before her eyes slid to her desk. she wrote fia every week as a sort of ritual these days, but today she felt drained, tired, worn down. her eyes closed as she took another sip of her drink, her hands shaking. she didn't know if she could do this, it was all so much worse that she had remembered. maybe it was the distance of time that helped soften the edges of cruelty and lack of empathy she encountered, a way to stay sane after having survived it. she had to get back in her mothers good graces sooner or later and then maybe she'd stop being put on the floor. maybe that would be enough. laying her head down on her desk she cried silently, her shoulders still. any sign of weakness and her mother would hold it against her. she needed a break, and tonight had been anything but that. rising a little unsteadily from her vanity she picked her way across her clothes strewn room to her bed before digging out the journal. she had no privacy anymore, at least before she'd been able to hide in her bedroom but now there was an extremely visible camera, and more that she likely couldn't see. still.... she pulled out the fairytale book she'd hollowed out, the letters inside it before setting her drink on the night table beside her.

"hey you, i've been too scared to write you I think...... i know you don't understand, and why would you? i never told you exactly what my life was before I was gone. i never wanted you to know, or look at me differently, I didn't want to see the pity in your eyes. i wanted you to be my sanctuary and maybe I made it so that that was too true. you didn't know, and you didn't understand the fear and horror I felt when I looked down at our little girl and was so scared that i'd ruin her. i didn't hold that against you, but I was failing you, and fia, and myself. i wanted to be the best wife I could be, and yea.... we were young, oh so young to have a little girl, but I wanted to be your fairytale dream girl, so fun and bright and bubbly while I raised our child and instead of I was dark and full of nightmares. i felt lost, like I wasn't myself anymore --- the self i'd found with you --- and that you couldn't see that, that you didn't care and I was jealous of both fia's relationship with you and your relationship and dedication to her. i wouldn't have wanted it any other way, but everything seemed to come so effortlessly to you, and I was just ruining everything. i didn't leave, I was taken and maybe that's how I should start this, explaining my life and who I am and what I was made to be. because that's what I am, a construct of my mothers wishes, her desire for power, and the way she thought she could get it. she had me simply because she wanted someone that could replicate her life but do it better, I was trained the same way she was, I was made to be her mirror image, except I was a little broken, a little crooked, not the perfect daughter she wanted. she started grooming when I was 7, and it just progressed from there. when we found each other I was running from her, I know you never pried and I appreciated that, but..... my life was a living horror show of both hating my mother and loving her endlessly and hoping for her approval. she took me, and she didn't know about you and fia and..... i don't think I can come back until shes gone, it's too dangerous. she'd see fia as another chance to make the perfect daughter and I can't allow that. i hope that one day, if you ever get this, you'll forgive me because i don't know if i can forgive myself. i love you. i love fia. i loved our family and maybe you really are better off without the taint of me in your life."

@thewholecrew

[justmeinatree]

i love talking about my writing so i do not mind all the questions 😂 i've been part of too many fandoms to name here but some of the ones i was the most involved in include Supernatural (still love the show, just don't engage with the fandom much anymore), the MCU (stopped watching the movies after Endgame, went to see Eternals because Harry was in the post credits scene and then fell asleep halfway through and missed him), Star Wars (was more into this when i was younger, these days the only Star Wars media i really care for is Rogue One and nobody else seemed to like that movie lol), Star Trek (mostly TOS), Doctor Who (same thing as Supernatural, still love it just not in the fandom anymore, and the 12th Doctor is my favorite <3), Community (still love the show, probably going to be getting back into the fandom when the movie drops), Les Miserables (i've read the book, seen the Hugh Jackman movie too many times to count, and saw a performance of it a few years back! still love the musical but the fandom feels like it's mostly dead now), Harry Potter (for obvious reasons, I have distanced myself from this one as much as possible but I was a Ravenclaw if anyone was wondering), the Throne of Glass books by Sarah J Maas (actually planning to reread this over the summer! may get back into the fandom, we'll see) and I've been active in the fandom for just about every mainstream horror franchise (and plenty of the more obscure ones too lol). I could probably spend hours creating a comprehensive list of fandoms but i think this is enough for now, unless you're just dying to know more 😂 i started writing in first grade, so around 6 years old. i've known i want to be a writer almost my entire life. i think the first bit of fanfic i ever wrote was for Harry Potter actually, but i don't remember anything about it. and i don't actually know what got me into reading fanfic...i just kind of always remember it being my go-to form of entertainment when i was bored. i am SO sorry for putting a whole novel in your askbox...apparently we're both in very chatty moods today lol

dialogue is the hardest thing for me to write because i always have to rewrite the conversation ten times before i feel like it sounds the way two people would actually speak. i'm much better at giving overly flowery descriptions of the space, and of character's appearances, emotions, etc. i tend to try and limit dialogue as much as i can when possible. my other writing crutch is semi-colons...i simply cannot go a paragraph without including one.

now the pressure is on to keep the fic good for the two of you 😂 i think this is the first time i've been told that two of my readers were talking about my fic beyond the comments section.

i think she's 3 years old? but i always forget. i'll have to ask my mom next time i call her, she's the one that keeps track 😂

-🤘

wow, i cannot comment on any of the fandoms 🫣 don’t rip me apart or anything but i’ve literally never watched a single movie or episode related to any of them 😅 to be fair though, i rewatch the same like 10 tv shows on repeat and i’m not much one for movies 😬 but still that’s so impressive ! HOW did you find so many things that you enjoyed enough to join a fandom ? honestly love all of that for you, and apparently i need to broaden my horizons 😅

that’s crazy how it’s so opposite for us ! conversation is so easy for me to imagine. i wouldn’t even know how to avoid it 😅 semi colons !! never use those bad boys but i’m told i use too many commas. love me a good comma 😂

SHE’S SO CUTE !! i’ve seen the photos you sent and omggg she’s seriously adorable. i don’t know what i was picturing but honestly she’s surpassed the image ! such a fkn cutie 😍😍

[mysticdragon3md3]

🚢💙⛵💙🛥️💙🚢💙⛵💙🛥️💙🚢💙⛵💙🛥️💙

Continuing a thought from: https://www.tumblr.com/mysticdragon3md3/770690876884271104/entering-the-arcane-fandom-after-season-2-like?source=share

Now’s a good time to remember that there’s nothing wrong with romantically shipping or platonically interpreting characters, as long as we allow other people to have different and even opposite opinions. (Yes, this is a reminder for me specifically.)

. Like, I'm aroace and I think it's important to hold space to allow for platonic ships, especially in Hollywood media, which is already oversaturated with (cishet) romance and often portrays unenjoyable, even toxic romances (in my opinion). But I've also started on platonic interpretations of couples, which I've then turned into romantic OTPs before. But whether I stay platonic or romantic on my ship interpretations, someone should always be allowed to have a different or opposite interpretation than me.

. Maybe the reason we (as in, drawing from my past mistakes too) get defensive about our ships, is because we're also fighting those counter-arguments in our head. It's just that when we then post our responses online, it then becomes an attack on everyone with a different opinion than ours. Or maybe, we encounter anti-shippers who try to disprove our ships, and get angry/defensive over them, then word our reactions in ways that blanketly attack all counter-ships. I remember the first non-canon ships I was obsessed with, so many of my thoughts, arguments, posts, and fanfics, were about tearing down the canon ship, to prove that my non-canon ship was more viable. I look back at those years in horror. I just hope I've moved on from those habits.

. And yet, I've recently been in ship fandoms where we argued about interpretations of the SAME ship. We were all on the same ship! But we couldn't agree with portrayals of that same ship's relationship dynamics and the individual characters' characterizations. I'm so tired with myself… Why do we make shipping so hard, guys? But that's easy to say, once I've gotten distance from a fandom. When I try to remember being in the thick of that intense fangirling, I remember viscerally feeling so offended, when other people would interpret a relationship dynamic as "enemies to lovers", when I saw them as "fluffy and affectionate", or when people would interpret a character as "passive uke", when I saw them as "confident seme". It just wasn't the character I was a fan of anymore. I just hope I did a good enough job keeping my counter-arguments to myself. Because I think it's still important to think about why I disagree with different interpretations/portrayls, but not turn posts about "organizing and processing my thoughts" into "attacks on people with different opinions" on something as IRL-unimportant as a ship. I know I've failed a lot to do that. But I wish and hope I could improve.

. Maybe it would be better if I left all my "processing thoughts", argument-building posts offline or Private. And maybe I would if private blogs and Private posts were as searchable as the public ones. All I can do in the meantime, is use completely unique tags that mean nonsense to the greater fandom at large. Semi-hidden posts. I can't NOT write about countering arguments that refute my interpretations of characterizations and ships. That's what liking a fandom is…aside from liking other people's fanart. I actually enjoy writing out my thoughts and processing why I interpret things the way I do, despite any possible counter arguments. And disputing the counter arguments is part of that. I just need to find a way to de-couple countering the arguments, for my own validation, without sounding like other people aren't allowed to have different opinions. If I could just do that, I think everything would be fine. (I mean, aside from running into very angry posts from other people who haven't learned to do that either.) This is going to be one of those things I'll have to eternally train myself on practicing, isn't it? I don't have much hope for myself, but I really do hope that I can try to improve. It's just so difficult, while in the middle of that intense fandom obsession feeling. There's not calm left for carefully ensuring I don't sound like I'm attacking others nor disallowing others from having different opinions (as long as they stay away from me). But I have been in fandoms before, where different factions, opposing ships, were able to mostly stay away from each other, and allow each other to ship our differing, conflicting ships in peace. I wish all fandoms could be like that. Or maybe I was mistaken, and that fandom actually had a lot of argumentative discourse, but I just miraculously never really saw it. Maybe the only real solution is to just keep practicing---despite the failures---to try and word things in a way that still holds space for the allowance of differing opinions. It's just so difficult, when half the time, it feels like expressing why I have a ship, is BECASUE I disagree with other ship dynamics. At that point, the only thing I can do is TRY to hide my posts from the opposing ships' fandoms, so they can enjoy their ship in peace. I really do want them to enjoy their ships in peace, even if they disagree with me.

. (That's why I've been trying so hard lately, to come up with unique tags. But Tumblr's recent change of how tags work, has upended a bunch of my older unique tags' ability to hide.)

[taylor-tut-fics]

small short horror piece i've shared before but can't find! reuploading to show a friend :)

“Just so you know,” I say to the new girl, leaning over the top of where our cubicles meet, “I’m a monster.” She stares at me with a blank expression. It’s not that I don’t understand the confusion, but it’s imperative that she knows this now rather than finding out when it's too late. There’s a reason that I had requested the cubicle that borders my own be left empty, but the company is expanding and it can’t be helped. I might talk to HR about it anyway. 

“Oh,” she fumbles. “Yeah, I can be one too, in the mornings. Just show me where the coffee maker is and I’ll be good, though.” 

I roll my eyes, which I realize goes against the goal of this woman taking me seriously, but I can’t help it. I’m frustrated. It’s rare that I have to deal with other people. Usually they scare off easier than this.

“No. A monster. Like, sharp teeth and bloody claws and all that. If I like you too much, I will eat your heart.” 

This time, she snorts again, but more out of discomfort than mirth. 

“Okay.” What else could she say? “I’ll try not to be too likable, then.” 

“That might be best.”

Because I didn’t get a comprehensive look at her before, my gaze lingers for a moment despite every intention in of turning back to my computer. She’s about my age, with jet black hair and eyes almost as dark. She brushes the strands that have escaped her low ponytail behind her ear, glancing up at me with a smile on her face. “I mark my pens with a little green flag.” Indeed, the handful of pens and highlighters she pulls from her bag all have a small, neon green piece of tape around the end. “That’s so I know which ones are mine. Take one without asking, and I’ll eat your heart.” 

“You’re funny. Be careful.” 

The first time I fall in love with her is a few weeks after we meet. She sings while she heats up her lunch in the microwave. It looks horrifying and smells unoffensive, but the look of excitement on her face as she places her leftovers into the dirty break room microwave is enough to do me in. After weeks of pointedly ignoring her, I have to bite down on a smile. 

“What do you have there?” I ask. Liv—I don’t think she knows that I even know her name—glances around to be sure I’m talking to her. 

“This? It’s leftover eggplant parmesan. From Trader Joe’s.” 

“Is it good?” 

“Do you like eggplant?” 

I shrug. “I like most things.” 

“Oh, do you? That’s news to me.” Her smile slips. I regret this. “Come on. We’ve sat next to each other for over a month and you’ve never said a word to me, no matter how much I try. Why this? Why now?” 

“Maybe I’m—” lonely, empty, horrible, toxic, yearning, desperate, terrified of being myself and by myself—”hungry.” 

She yanks the microwave open before her food is even warm and slides the lid back on top before setting it back in the refrigerator. “Oh, perfect. I’m buying, then. You’re driving.” 

Just like that, she’s everything. 

It’s when her laugh fills my stomach with moths that I feel the shift. The sequence of events is so fast that it’s impossible to stop, and I’m immediately too tied up in it to warn her. Bile pools behind my eyes and I recoil from the pain. My palm finds my temple, sinking into my skull like a thumb into an overripe peach. 

“Ridley?” I hear Liv’s voice calling to me like a thunderstorm in the distance. “What’s wrong?” 

Her hands reach out and I shove them away. I think I see a finger splinter from the force, but she remains calm, whole, focused. 

“Go,” I growl. Flecks of black ink that has collected between my teeth spit from my mouth and stain her face in corrosive freckles, boring into her skin. They’ll leave pockmarks if she doesn’t wipe it off, but her eyes remain locked onto mine. I don’t realize that she’s wiping away the burning, stinging rubbing alcohol that’s leaking from my eyes until she pats my cheek. 

“Hey, look at me.” I look at her and through her, inside and out, the things she shows me and the things she carefully doesn’t. 

My head splits down the center, and though she remains remarkably calm, I can see the terror, the hatred in her eyes. It’s the same way everyone else that has seen the monster has looked at me, betrayed and confused. 

Each hemisphere of my flayed skin is sharp. It’s not tooth and it’s not gum but jaw, with jagged bony edges that are black with rot and dripping with venom. 

Liv’s mouth is moving, but I’m too far gone to make out the words. 

I try to command her once more to leave me, to turn away and never look back, but the jaws that were once my skull wrap around her arms, pulling her in, a finch in a bramble bush. She thinks she can contort to fit between the shards, but they’ll grow into her if she stays. 

What leaks from the jaw is mine and mine alone, and it stains her, dissolves her, makes her a little less than she was before. I can’t stop it flowing any more than I can stop it churning behind my own tonsils. Even without this form, it lives at the bottom of my throat. The kindest people go looking down it when I tell them how it burns, and that’s how I end up with a heart between my teeth. 

Every time. This time. 

The next morning, I wake in my bedroom. My head pounds from the exertion, but it seems as though Liv has gotten me dressed and wrangled back into the bed despite everything. She’s sleeping beside me in my bed, radiant but speckled with corrosive burns. Though I can’t remember exactly what happened last night, I can see the marks I left. 

“Liv,” I whisper. Gently, tenderly, I soothe her arms, her collarbones, her chest. I ate her heart, and she rolls over to offer it to me again. 

She’s kind, and she’s kind, and she’s kind. 

“Go back to sleep, Ridley. You need it.” 

So I do. 

That night, I sneak out of the bed to chew rocks in the back yard until I spit blood in the hopes of dulling my teeth. They stay that way for three days. When they grow back sharper than ever, I dig. Bare-handed and alone, I rip up the garden, all the flowers I spent the summer planting. They look so ugly now that I can’t believe I was ever proud of them. 

When my nails are broken from the tip to the bed, I finally let myself go inside. A trail of blood follows me down the hall and pools beneath me when I collapse in my bathtub. 

I wake up with them not only sharp, but pristinely manicured, perfect enough to mock the effort I put into ruining them. 

[quillsareswords]

look i love your demonologist!reader so i am asking pretty please for something creepy, magical and romantic for their valentines day✨

UGH I thought you'd never ask 😩

MASTER LIST in BIO

"Is that a toad."

It's not a question. He's not asking you. He knows what it is. What he doesn't know, is why it's on his nice clean kitchen counter.

You cup your hand around it's back and slide it closer, as if you still have a chance to hide it behind you. It stares at him like it's annoyed. You see this shit?

Yes. He does see this shit.

"No," you reply. "It's, uh– It's a puppy. I got you a puppy. Happy Valentine's day."

The noise he makes is something like a laugh and a sigh. "That's the ugliest dog I have ever seen." He crosses the kitchen, because now that he knows you've got a toad, he can't not investigate. He props his chin on your shoulder. Glances down. Regrets it immediately.

He jerks backward and you laugh. When you glance back, he's pinching his nose. "Sorry. I'll be done in a second."

He leans right to look around you without getting within smelling range. "What is that."

Still not a question. A demand. "...Do you actually want to know or do you want to know why it smells so bad?"

He straightens up and makes eye contact. He stares into the depths of your soul. "The latter."

You snort, and go back to chopping...whatever that is is. Some kind of purple plant. It's probably toxic. "Probably the congealed pig blood. And the, um, the algae. Maybe the toad piss."

"I'm going to dinner by myself."

You're laughing again. "Oh, come on! You knew what was going to happen when you asked me to move in with you. There's a reason I had so many air fresheners in my apartment."

He sighs as he leans against the counter a safe distance away. "But on the kitchen counter? I cook there!"

"I'll bleach it," you promise. "I always do."

He decides to pretend he didn't hear the last part. He doesn't want to think about the things you've done on this counter. "Anyway, are you ready for tonight?"

Then you're smiling. At a very disgusting bowl, but you are smiling. He supposes he should be proud, to know that simply the thought of a dinner date with him can make you smile on the face of horror.

Save it for dinner.

"Yeah! I even went out and bought somethin' pretty, just for you." You look away from the knife just long enough to wink at him. "And I've got a surprise for when we get home. Are you all set?"

He nods, even though you aren't looking. "Of course. The reservations are at eight thirty, we'll leave here at eight to allow for traffic. I've taken care of everything—all you have to do is be at the front door at eight o'clock."

"And if I'm not?"

"Then I'll carry you to the car."

"What if I'm not dressed?"

"I'll take you in your pajamas."

"What if I get possessed?"

"I'll take your apprentice."

You chuckle. "Bet he'd love that. Eat you out of house and home." You pick up the grody plastic cutting board (that you're pretty sure came from your mother's kitchen, and is reserved exclusively for the nastiest components) and scrape the sloppily chopped root into the bowl (which is not reserved for the grossness and will most likely be thrown out by an irritated Damian).

"I'm sure he would, but I'd much rather see this illusive surprise." He inches closer, pointedly not looking at the inside of the bowl. Or maybe he just likes looking at you.

"Oh, I'm sure you'll be hearing all about it pretty soon." You turn and set the bowl on the sink, before you pick up the bowl with one hand and the toad with the other.

He'll admit, it's probably the most docile toad he's ever seen. Maybe you've got some kind of incantation cast over it. It still looks like an exhausted middle aged man who works an 8-5 Monday through Friday.

You must notice he's looking at it. "I picked him up in the park," you explain, holding him up just shy of eye level to get a better look at him. "But you know, I kind of like him. Do you think he'd be happy in a nice terrarium?"

He looks at it for a long minute. "Possibly. We'd have to get a large tank."

"It'd look good in the living room. In front of the big window? One of the really long ones?"

He nods. "Agreed."

You look at the creature a little longer. Then, you nod decidedly to yourself. "I'll put him back in the box for now. We can go to the pet store after dinner."

He tilts his head. "You want to spend Valentine's Day setting up a terrarium for a wild frog you've impulsively decided to keep?"

"Yeah."

He smiles so gently. It's that stupid, lovesick puppy dog smile that immediately reminds you of balmy summer air and the soft colors of sunrise. "Alright. The pet store it is."

You've faced down millennium-old demons fresh from the depths of hell without batting an eye, but this one man smiles at you the right way and your knees start shaking like a newborn deer.

But, alas, you're still on the clock. You've got a favor to make good on. At least you're getting a new pet out of it. You set the toad in a shoe box that's been sitting by the sink. "As much as I'd love to sit here and flesh this out right now, John and I need to go see Jerry."

He follows you toward the front door. "His name is Ross."

You hand him the shoe box and set the bowl on the entry table so you can pull your coat on. "Jerry was supposed to get some stuff gathered up for me. If he tries to give me cotton balls instead of going to Lowe's for fire starters again, I'm coming home with two toads."

He hands John's box back once your coat is on. He kisses you softly, hands on either of your shoulders, and then he's draping his scarf around your neck. "Drive carefully. Hurry home."

You kiss him one more time while you're reaching for your keys. "Always." You pull the door open. "I'll see you in a bit. Should have some time to ourselves before we even need to get dressed."

He catches the door with one hand before you can close it. "Doesn't matter. So such thing as enough time with you."

Just one more quick kiss, and then you're walking backward towards the elevator. "Save the sweet talk for the pet store, Romeo!"

[suicidalslasher]

𝑛𝑜𝑡𝘩𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑛 𝑚𝑎𝑡𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑠 ➤𝑠𝑖𝑚𝑜𝑛 𝑘

(part one)

This is absolute garbage as it's three in the morning and I wrote this on the spot, also on my small and ancient iPhone. Regardless, I hope you enjoy it and there is going to be a second part ;)

(which will be longer, by the way. and probably be better, too.)

(NSFW themed elements are hinted but not shown.)

(Y/F/N means your full name too if yall didn't already know, lmao.)

Swallowing the lump in her throat, (Y/N) turns and looks over at her best friend, Simon. Hot tears ran down her face, soaking her skin  as she choked back on a sob. Other than herself, he was the last one alive. "Simon....."   He shook his head, pressing his finger to her lips, hushing her from uttering another word.  He didn't want to hear it. He hardly believed any of this was happening. He swore it was just a nightmare, and at any given minute, he'll wake up in his bed, breathing heavily but breathing, no less.   But that moment never came.  Red, splotchy marks zig-zagged his skin, having pinched himself too many times to count. He had done this because he needed to see if this was really happening or not. After the tenth or so time, realization hit. This was no nightmare. His friends were dead.  Those monsters out there were the real fucking deal.      "They're all dead..... There was so much blood, I've never seen so much in my life…” “Here I was, thinking living in a movie would be all that and a bag of chips…” Simon shook his head, a humorless laugh bubbling out from his throat as he chuckled dryly, tears beginning to form in the corner of his eyes. “I never wanted to live in a horror movie, mind you. Always pictured myself, living in a romantic comedy. The cute boy next door or the best friend the main character falls in love with…” Simon trailed off, a dust of red outlining his cheeks. He then coughed and shook his head once more. “Not sure what’s worse — dying a virgin or having been almost killed by some possessed chick, throwing up black blood on me.” That got a laugh out of (Y/N) but she was quick to hide her amusement by the palm of her hand, never knowing when the killers were coming or not. She needed to be as quiet as a mouse. As far as she knew, they were gone and far away. At least for now, anyhow… Simon and her had ran a pretty good distance. But who knew how long that would last for..? (Y/N) didn’t want to think about it. Instead, she turned her attention to Simon. “You don’t have to die a virgin…” (Y/N) whispered. “(Y/F/N) are you saying what I think you’re saying?” He gasped, looking at her with his mouth wide open and eyes as big as saucers. “Simon Kalivoda, it would be an honor to have you pop my cherry.” Simon pursed his lips together as if he were deep in his thoughts before he gave a quick nod as he then nearly tackles (Y/N) to the ground, the two falling to the pavement with a thud. “Maybe, this can still be one of those cheesy romantic comedies, too… at least for right now. We can play pretend. Nothing else matters. Nothing expect you and I.” (Y/N) whispered as she brushed her fingers across Simon’s cheek, holding back more tears which were threatening to continuously spill if she didn’t blink them away. “Nothing else matters.” He echoed as he brought his lips down onto hers. For years, this was all Simon had been wanting to do. Of course, the time the two are getting chased by multiple deadly killers, would he have enough confidence to do something like this. Of fucking course. Never, in a million years, did he think he’d be in this position — kissing his best friend in an empty and cold high school bathroom while there were actual serial killers on the hunt for them. As Simon caressed his best friend’s skin, gazing his fingertips across her body while peppering her face with gentle and loving kisses, muttering sweet nothings against her skin — he realizes she was right. Nothing else mattered in this moment expect for them. “(Y/N)?” Simon looks at her with such a fond expression, with such love in his eyes, it almost makes (Y/N) burst into tears. “Yeah..?” She whispers. “Whatever happens tonight… I.. I just want to let you know I love you. I always have, and I always will. No matter what.” “I love you too, Simon. Whatever happens, I’ll always be here. For you… with you. It’s always been me and you — you and I. Not even scary killers can get between us.” “Do you think love can concur all…? Like.. a true love kiss can save the day..?” “I don’t see why not… Now, shut

up and kiss me, you fool.” Simon shut his mouth instantly and went back to kissing (Y/N). “Whatever happens, I’ll always be here. For you… with you. It’s always been me and you — you and I….” (Y/N)’s words echo in the back of his head. And Simon isn’t sure as to why that reason may be….

Not until later does he truly understand the importance of that saying.

[yurtletheturtlehenderson]

COSMIC - S1:E5; Chapter Five, The Flea and The Acrobat - [Pt. 4 - FINAL]

A Will Byers x Male!Reader Series

𝘏𝘰𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘳 𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘬𝘴 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘢𝘣 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘴𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘴, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘴 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴. 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘺 𝘢𝘴𝘬𝘴 𝘔𝘳. 𝘊𝘭𝘢𝘳𝘬𝘦 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘷𝘦𝘭 𝘵𝘰 𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘥𝘪𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯.

|| 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐏𝐎𝐕 ||

With Dustin in the lead, we found ourselves stopped atop a hill, at what I assume is a scrapyard. Old vehicles like abandoned cars and buses scattered around the area.

Dustin came to a stop and looked around.

"Oh, no." He muttered.

"'Oh, no'? What's, 'Oh, no'?" Lucas asked in a panicked tone.

Dustin turned around to look at us.

"We're headed back home."

"What?" Even Mike seemed to be frustrated.

"Dustin, are you sure?" I ask, irritation and exhaustion creeping up on me.

"Yeah, I'm sure. Setting sun, right there." He pointed past us in the direction of the sky. "We looped right back around."

I sighed, shifting on my feet as I run a hand down my face.

"And you're just realizing this now?" Lucas snapped.

"Why is this all on me?"

"Because you're the compass genius!"

"What do yours say?"

We all checked our compasses, mine was wobbly but nevertheless, pointing North.

Lucas, Mike and I all spoke at once.

"North."

We all sighed, and Dustin began slowly pacing, looking off into the distance deep in thought.

"Makes no damn sense."

"Maybe the gate moved," Mike offered.

"No, I don't think it's the gate." Dustin began looking all around us. "I think it's something else screwing with the compasses."

"Maybe it's something here?"

As Mike spoke, I didn't fail to notice the look that crossed Lucas's face as he slowly turned to face El.

"No, it has to be like a super magnet." Dustin replied.

Lucas rose his hand and began pointing at El accusingly. "It's not a magnet. She's been acting weirder than normal. If she can slam doors with her mind, she can definitely screw up a compass."

El stood rooted in place, a look of guilt and fear in her eyes.

"Why would she do that?" Mike snapped.

"Because she's trying to sabotage our mission. Because she's a traitor!"

As much as I hated to admit it to myself, it was the only logical explanation we had. It could be all too easy for her to screw with our compasses after what she showed herself capable of.

I shook my head, ridding myself of the conclusions my brain wanted to jump to.

"Lucas, come on. Think about what you're saying. Why would-" I rested a gentle hand on Lucas's shoulder to try and calm him down, only for him to rip his arm from my touch.

"Enough, Y/n! I'm so sick of you defending her! You of all people should be more worried for Will."

"I am!" I snapped, feeling the anger, fear and confusion of all I've been carrying the past few days shoot up to the surface unexpectedly.

I took a deep breath, trying to compose myself. "Just... Please. Hear her out."

Lucas never met my eye and only stomped towards the poor girl intimidatingly.

"Lucas, what are you doing?" Mike asked, following behind Lucas worriedly.

"You did it, didn't you? You don't want us to reach the gate. You don't want us to find Will." Lucas was in her face by now, and it as if the poor girl was on the verge of tears.

Dustin and I were toe in toe with the others and I walked up to Lucas, ready in case he decided to something rash.

Mike seemed to have the same idea.

"Lucas, come on, seriously, just leave her alone!"

"Admit it." Lucas spit.

"No." El muttered.

"Admit it!" We all jumped when Lucas began screaming.

He grabbed her right arm and examined her sleeve. There was a streak of shiny dark crimson on her sleeve.

Lucas swatted away her arm in disgust and frustration at the sight.

"Fresh blood. I knew it."

Dustin and I watched speechless as the boys began fighting.

"Lucas, come on!"

"I saw her wiping her nose on the tracks! She was using her powers!"

"Bull! That's old blood. Right, El?"

We all whipped our heads to El, waiting for her response.

At this point, she was fighting back tears, and her breath hitched.

"Right, El?" Mike asked again, less confident.

She began sobbing as she choked out her words.

"It's... not... it's not safe."

My stomach plunged as Dustin and I shared a look of worry and shock.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

"What did I tell you? She's been playing us from the beginning!"

Lucas and Mike seemed to be having it out now and they wouldn't stop despite the many protests from either Dustin or I. My body seemed to have shut down, staring helplessly as my two best friends fight, at a complete loss for words from shock and knowing my words will make no difference.

"That's not true. She helped us find Will!"

"Find Will? Find Will? Where is he, then? Huh? I don't see him."

"Yeah, you know what I mean,"

"No, I actually don't. Just think about it, Mike. She could have just told us where the Upside Down was right away, but she didn't. She just made us run around like headless chickens."

With every word my body was feeling more and more on edge, my anxiety set in as I felt uncomfortable in my own skin at my friend's tearing each other apart. I started shifting back and forth, my hands rubbing the back of my neck.

Either Dustin noticed this, or he was sick of the fighting as well - or both for that matter - he stomped towards the boys and intervened.

"All right, calm down!"

"No! She used us, all of us! She helped just enough so she could get what she wants. Food and a bed. She's like a stray dog."

"Screw you, Lucas!"

"No! Screw you, Mike. You're blind... blind because you like that a girl's not grossed out by you. But wake up, man! Wake the hell up! She knows where Will is, and now she's just letting him die in the Upside Down."

"Shut up!"

"For all we know, it's her fault."

"Shut up."

"We're looking for some stupid monster... but did you ever stop to think that maybe she's the monster?"

'I don't want to believe it. I don't want to believe that El is the monster. I don't want my best friend to be missing, I don't want my friends to fight all the time. But at the same time, I can't afford to dismiss the possibility that maybe Lucas had a point. Not about her being a monster. No, that I refuse to believe, but her having something to do with everything that's been going on.'

What came next was a blur.

Mike couldn't take it anymore and lunged at Lucas, the boys toppled to the ground and began wrestling in the dirt. Dustin, El and I screaming at the top of our lungs for them to stop.

I looked to Dustin and El and back at the fighting boys. I ran to them attempting to pry Lucas off of Mike in a panic, knowing there was a big chance I'd get hit. But I didn't care and I couldn't stand by and do nothing.

"Enough! Please, stop! Just-"

I closed my eyes as I saw the blur of Lucas's hand strike me accidentally as he swung his arm back, ready to punch Mike. I felt the back of his fist collide with my nose and I fell back with a painful yelp.

I heard a shrill shriek and opened my eyes in time to see Lucas fly backward in the air about five feet and slide into an abandoned car door, lying unconscious.

I looked to Lucas in horror and ran to him, not caring about my gushing nose.

I dive in front of Lucas, trying to shake him awake.

The boys were right behind me.

"Lucas! Lucas, wake up! Lucas."

Nothing. I checked his head for injuries, my hand never leaving him as I look over my shoulder at El, horrified.

"What did you do?"

El stood rooted to the ground, sobs wracking her body as blood dripped down her nose. I could tell the guilty look in her eyes was genuine but I didn't have time to feel bad for her right now.

Lucas was my main priority. I turned my attention back to my friend.

Dustin and Mike were just as panicked as I was.

"Come on, wake up. Come on!" Dustin yelled.

"Come on, man. Lucas?" Mike muttered worriedly.

"Lucas? Lucas, come on!" I sniffled, weakly shaking him.

To my tremendous relief, Lucas slowly came to with a groan and his eyes fluttered open.

The three of us chuckled and laughed in relief. The weight in my lungs and heart were lifted at the sight

"Lucas." Mike let out in a shaky breath.

Lucas slowly sat up and blinked a few times, processing what just happened.

"Lucas, you okay?" Mike asked.

There was no response from our friend.

Dustin spoke up shakily as he held up three fingers.

"Lucas... Lucas, how many fingers am I holding up? Lucas, how many fingers?"

Mike began reaching forward towards Lucas's head, already one step ahead of me.

"Let me see your head." He offered gently, he was cut short went Lucas angrily shoved Mike's hand away.

"Get off of me!" He grunted, struggling to stand up.

"Lucas, come on, you could be hurt. Let us help." I try, my voice soft reaching for his shoulder.

He pushed my arm away in anger as he stood up, storming past me.

"I said, get off of me!" I detected a hint of fear in his voice this time and less anger, making me more sympathetic than angry at him.

Mike began to chase after him but Dustin and I seem to have the same thought as we both caught each of his arms

"Let him go."

I watched sorrowfully as my friend left without us.

"Man, let him go."

We all shared a somber silence when suddenly Mike spoke up.

"Where is El?"

I looked to where she had been standing previously only to find no one else in sight.

Mike's breathing increased and he began shouting for her.

"El! El!"

"Eleven!" Dustin had joined in.

I stood frozen, my voice failing me. I looked around me as hopelessness sunk in and solidified into guilt. The icy wind whipped my collar as the desperate voices of my friends was lost to the wind.

She was gone.

[deliriousacademia]

✨for those of you who need some encouragement ✨

here i am, alive and happy. this is for those of you who need it, because i felt like sharing a little bit of my story as encouragement for those enduring troubling times.

i have spent my entire life suffering from depression, anxiety, insomnia, anorexia, and as of last year, PTSD. yes, my brain chemistry is absolutely fucked, i'm aware. i attempted suicide years ago, and have come close to a repeat of that on multiple occasions. i never thought that things would get better, i had myself convinced that life was nothing more than never-ending turmoil. that my brain was truly beyond repair.

but here i am.

i have my own apartment in the city, shared with my two wonderful rabbits; beatrix and oats. i have a fantastic job that i absolutely love and to be honest, i'm damn good at it too. i'm in love with the most amazing man who loves me right back. he's got the curliest jet black hair and he's a talented musician (and he even writes songs about me!!) i don't have many friends, but i love the few that i do. i live within walking distance of a cute little park with a fountain and coffee shops and there's even a pizza parlor right across the street from my building! and best of all, according to my five year old selfs daydreams, i have access to a fire escape from my apartment window!

sure, i'm pretty broke. school stresses me out. i've got about 5 parking tickets i have yet to pay. the man with the jet black hair who i'm very much in love with, we had broken up last year after going through a really difficult time. my laundry desperately needs to be folded and put away. i'm facing the late onset of PTSD evoked by childhood abuse that i wasn't even aware of until last year. i struggle with the way i look sometimes. somedays i cannot get manage to get myself out of the brain fog. i'm not going to lie and say that my life has just turned around and everything is easy now, that's not the case and it never will be. I am mentally ill. my brain simply doesn't function in the way that it should. life will be trying, it will be overwhelming. it may even feel like i can't bare to go on at times.

but i will tell you this; despite the horrors brought upon by my mental health throughout my life, i am so happy to be alive. i am so happy that i wasn't successful with my suicide attempt. there is so much beauty and so much love in this life that it has turned from something appalling to something alluring. i want to experience it all, i want to get lost in amazing books, i want to learn chemistry and french and ballet and how to play the piano and how the immune system works!! i want to be a doctor for christ sakes! the things that make up this beautiful world are never ending and there's always something new to dive into! i want to be around for it, and i hope that all of you out there struggling reach this point too. i know for a fact that you can.

do not fall into the trap of thinking that recovery from mental illness = a cured brain with no regression. you will relapse, you will hurt, things will be hard. to say otherwise is bullshit. but there is so much more to life than that pain, and i promise you it is worth it to stick around for.

find a therapist that specializes in the issues you're facing, seek medical treatment from a doctor and/or psychiatrist, holistic medicine if that's more up your alley, get exercise, drink water, eat healthy, take care of yourself, hang out with your friends, talk about the things that are causing you pain (i cannot stress this enough!! i would go as far to say that this one is the most important of all), delve into new hobbies that interest you (and don't strive for perfection!! just enjoy the act itself), pursue your dreams as difficult as they may seem to attain, stop giving a damn what others think about you, read your favorite books, watch your favorite movies, listen to music, romanticize your life, watch the dogs at the dog park. whether it's the things listed here or things that you come up with on your own, fucking do whatever it is that you need to do in order to be happy. with mental illness, that's easier said than done, but you need to force yourself to do it for as long as you need to. in the long run, you will feel so much better.

please seek the help that you need, life is beautiful, and i can assure you that you won't regret sticking around.

last but not least, here is a link to a playlist of youtube videos i watch when i'm feeling down. it honestly helps me when i feel sad, so i thought i'd share it. i'm constantly adding to it whenever a video makes me laugh to the point of tears.

[astro-rain]

delicate; b.barnes

chapter twelve - “it’s hovercraft time, bucky barnes”

delicate masterlist

word count: 2.4k

synopsis: neither bucky nor y/n can sleep... until they do. and the next day brings them an unexpected, but pleasant surprise.

pairings: bucky barnes x fem!reader

It was four in the morning when the psychologist and the super soldier got in their respective beds after the nightmare. Y/N laid on her side in the bunk across from Bucky, facing away from him and staring at the wall. Her body wanted to sleep but her mind kept whirring on and on, worrying about him.

It wouldn't be that bad if she could just ignore it. It wouldn't be so bad if she wasn't wide awake also thinking about how it would be utterly impossible for him to have any eye color other than blue.

She sighed. Christ almighty, just go to sleep.

About twenty minutes passed before she heard it.

"Why are you still up?" he mumbled.

She turned over to her other side, dramatically, staring at his silhouette in the dark.

"How could you possibly know that?"

"I'm a trained assassin," he said, as a matter of fact. "I can recognize breath patterns."

"Yeah, well I know for a fact that you aren't even trying to fall back asleep."

"How could you possibly know that?" he repeated her question.

"I just do," she stated before turning on her back and staring straight up.

He scoffed playfully.

"What?" she asked.

Her tone wasn't as playful. It wasn't angry or annoyed; she could never be with him. But, it was void of emotion and her usual sarcastic cadence. She didn't enjoy people reading her like that. She knew he wasn't, but it felt like she was being called out for caring so much. She wanted to rein in her own compassion, but she couldn't help the way he softened her.

"That's just code for 'I'm a trained psychologist and I know how you're gonna react to nightmares.'"

She replied with silence, desperately trying to end the conversation so she could try to sleep and leave this night behind.

"Sorry, did I- did I say something?" he asked.

"No, you're good."

Part of her felt bad for being short with him, but she needed it to be over. She needed to somehow distance herself from her own feelings.

"I'm sorry if I woke you up with the nightmare and messed with you being able to fall back asleep. I know it's... a lot."

He's sorry. He's sorry?

"Don't you dare apologize. It's not your fault, and it's not even why I can't fall back asleep."

"What's the problem then?"

"It's nothing. Just try and get some sleep."

"Yeah... about that..."

"Will you have another?"

"Not  sure. I don't wanna find out."

"I know. And I'm sorry. Sleep shouldn't be this menacing, but you should still try anyway. Your body needs it."

"So does yours."

Y/N let out an exasperated sigh. There she went caring again and he kept deflecting. Her frustrations about her own emotions came out in stubborn defiance.

"I'm not sleeping until you do."

"Guess we're both stayin' up then."

"Bucky," she gently admonished.

"Y/N I can't- that... was the worst one I've had in a while."

That was it. Any and all aggravation faded to nothing, and her cheeks were hot with guilt. To hell with it; she refused to leave him to pain. She then got out of her bunk. Carefully, she maneuvered out and kneeled on the floor, facing him. She felt bad; she didn't mean to push him.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I'm sorry, I should know better."

He mirrored her actions, slipping out of his own bunk and kneeling on the floor in front of her

"It's okay," he didn't miss a beat. His voice was as soft of hers. "Thank you."

He was closer now, so she could see a more detailed outline of him. She never really noticed just how large he was. Just his arm looked as big as her head. He was supposed to look frightening, but... she just couldn't see it.

"If you don't wanna sleep that's okay. I'll stay up with you so you don't have to be alone."

"Y/N..."

"I'm already up, I don't mind," she countered. "Seriously. I'm wide awake now. Honestly, I don't even know if I could fall back asleep if I tried."

"I can't ask you to stay up and babysit just 'cause you feel bad."

She scooted forward, determined not to lose to deflection again. Babysit? and Cause you feel bad? How could he truly think so little of himself?

"I am definitely not babysitting. I just happened to be awake at the same time you are... and not because I feel bad."

He scooted forward a couple inches, squinting, trying to decipher her facial expressions. "I can't tell if you're joking or not just from your tone of voice."

In the very back of her head it returned: that hazy enchantment feeling that swelled from her lungs through her brain stem every time she was this close to him. It is important to note - it was in the very back of her brain, and if you ignore something long enough, you can convince yourself it's not there.

"James Buchanan, I am awake and there's not a thing you can do about it."

"Alright," he sighed. "I don't know if you're expecting some kind of entertainment, but I can't really juggle with one arm..."

"I can't juggle with two."

"Ever been to the circus?"

"No."

He laughed. "Oh man, you're missin' out."

"No, I got the clown right here."

"Wow, is that how it is?"

"Depends. You got face paint and a rainbow wig?"

"Smartass."

The air was quiet after their breathy laughs fizzled out. A few moments of awkwardness quietly passed, both unsure of what to say next.

"You know when you're in the dark, your pupils dilate to take in as much light as they can in order to see better?" Y/N asked.

"I think I knew that? I'm not sure, I might've heard it somewhere. Why do you ask?"

"I don't know. I can't see your face super well, so it made me think of it. I can barely even see your eyes."

"Maybe that's better," he chuckled. "I don't know if they're still blood shot from earlier."

"Like I'd care."

"Why wouldn't you?"

"What?"

"Why wouldn't you care? I feel like seeing someone's puffy face and post-cry eyes would be kinda gross."

"You really think I care if your eyes are red or puffy?" she questioned. "Buck, I know I'm probably not supposed to say this because technically I'm your doctor, but I honestly consider you a really good friend. I'd be more worried to see that you've been crying than be aversive to it."

He scoffed in honest disbelief.

"What?"

"I just can't wrap my head around the fact that you think that way about me..."

"What do you mean?"

"...the person I am, the things I've done, the..." he shook his head, "the horrors I've committed..."

"The horrors you've committed are not who you are. I know you see yourself in a lot of different ways because it's hard to un-learn what other people have decided you are: a monster, a ghost, an asset, a machine, an assassin, a weapon, whatever. But have you ever considered that you're just human after all? You're a man who got dealt a shit hand in life. But there is still light in him... light that never left, no matter how hard they tried to beat it out of you. You're a survivor, Buck."

Bucky took a deep breath in, contemplating, before turning and laying on his back. They both remained on the floor, Y/N kneeling a few inches away from the side of Bucky's supine figure. He stared straight up at the ceiling.

"Sometimes I think I'm a better 'ghost' than I am a human being. My mind's a mess, and even though I'm trying, I still can't help but feel like I've lost who I am."

"You haven't lost who you are. You're just different now, and that's okay."

He looked up at her. "How do you always know what to say?"

"I know everything."

Y/N smiled, following Bucky's laugh, allowing the somber atmosphere to lighten up a bit. They so easily slipped in and out of the therapy dynamic, but now it seemed more like a heartfelt conversation between friends rather than treatment between doctor and patient.

"I consider you a really good friend too by the way - closest one I've had since Steve."

"Wow, really? That's an honor."

"Not really," he chuckled. "Steve's a punk."

And there she went laughing again. In one way or another she always found herself laughing around him.

However, she found it more confusing than funny when she woke up the following morning to find herself sitting on the floor, leaning against one of the beds with Bucky's head in her lap. She found her hands resting on his head protectively, fingers slightly carded through his long hair. She woke up before him... That's a first.

Y/N looked down at him. He was fast asleep; he looked peaceful and so relaxed. It was such a rare state to see him in, so she gave herself a few more seconds to study how his face looked when it was completely tranquil before she smoothed her hand along the back of his head and replaced her lap with a pillow.

-

"Hey," a raspy voice called out.

Y/N turned around from her seat at the table, hands still wrapped around the cup of tea she made herself a few minutes prior.

Bucky was awake, sitting up, but still in his previous spot on the floor.

"Hey. You want some tea?"

He stood up, nodding and stretching his back. "Did I fall back asleep?"

"You did," she smiled. "I'm pleased. I told you you needed the rest."

He seemed pleasantly surprised. "And on the floor too. Very classy."

She raised her mug to him, as if to make a toast. "Classiest man I know."

He laughed before grabbing the kettle and realizing it was empty.

"Shoot. We're outta water."

"It's alright. We know where to find the waterfall. You want to go get more?"

"Mm hm."

"Alright, I'll just finish my tea and go out in a few minutes."

"Don't be ridiculous. I'm coming too."

"You sure? You just woke up. You can take some time to just relax if you want."

"No. I'm going."

"Stubborn. I can go myself, you know. I know the way."

"Would you let me go by myself?"

Y/N was silent for a moment before sighing.

"Get your shoes."

-

"You know, there was really no reason to almost push me into the water," Bucky commented as they were making their way back to the shelter after restocking their water supply.

"I wasn't actually going to!"

"You might as well have! My life flashed before my eyes!"

"Bet that took forever. You wanna backtrack? I can do it for real this time."

"I'm throwin' you in next time."

"You couldn't throw me," she challenged.

"Like a football," he countered, smirking.

"I don't wanna test that theory."

Their banter continued as they continued walking, making sure they were in the tree line and not out in the open. Bucky was always cautious. He was able to laugh with her while still making sure they were safe. That was until his arm was suddenly around the front of her shoulders, and holding her against his chest as his back was flush against a tree, effectively hiding them both from sight. She just stared forward, barely registering how fast he swiveled both of them around.

"There's someone at the bunker. I'm sorry- didn't want us to be seen."

He removed his arm, but her feet were stuck. She had never been close to him like this before; she didn't know what to think of it. She stepped forward a bit, breaking the contact but still facing away from him. She was hyperaware of their proximity but that quickly dissipated as she registered what he said.

"What did you see?"

"There were a couple people, but I didn't get a great look 'cause I moved out of sight fast. One woman, two men? I think."

His tone and demeanor reminded her of that day Shuri told them they had to go in hiding. He was so calm and collected. She forgot situations like these were practically muscle memory to him.

"Do you think someone found us? What were they doing?"

"I only saw 'em for a second, I'm not sure. Stay still, I'm gonna look."

As soon as his head peaked around the tree, so did Y/N's, ignoring his order.

"Wait, I think that's Shuri."

"Are you sure?"

"Pretty sure. I don't know if I'd bet my life on it."

"What's that other thing?"

"The hovercraft?"

"Hovercraft? God, I love this place."

"Wait, see the crest on the hovercraft - that's the one only Shuri can unlock."

"Alright, just... stay behind me. Okay?"

"Okay."

The two slowly made their way towards the three Wakandans. Y/N actually listened this time and stayed behind Bucky. As soon as they were in sight, Shuri came running up to them.

"Y/N!" she exclaimed, immediately throwing herself into the psychologist, embracing her.

She was startled at first, arms awkwardly hanging by her sides before her brain finally caught up to her and she brought her arms up lightly, returning the hug.

"Shuri! What happened?"

"We won!" Shuri grinned. "It's a long and complicated story, but the rightful King never died. My brother has reclaimed his place on the throne. Wakanda is ours once again!"

A monumental weight was lifted from Y/N's shoulders. She sighed in relief, knowing she was no longer in danger, knowing Bucky was no longer in danger.

"That's incredible. I'm so glad everything's okay, and I'm so glad to see you."

"I'm glad to see you too, my partner," Shuri hugged her once more before addressing Bucky. "Sergeant Barnes. I'm sorry for all the trouble. I hope everything was alright?"

"We've been getting along just fine," he nodded. "Thank you."

Shuri called over the two other men - royal guards that came with her - before turning back to Y/N and Bucky.

"You've been camped out here in hiding long enough. Let us go home."

As they walked behind the Wakandan princess, Y/N nudged Bucky with her elbow.

"It's hovercraft time, Bucky Barnes," she managed to say through a face numbing smile.

delicate taglist: @bakugouswh0r3 @thefridgeismybestie @strivingforelegance

[wildernessuntothemselves]

Devil on Your Team | Part 1

Word Count: 1.9k

Genre: angst, smut

A\N: Asgard AU where Felix is Loki, Chan is Thor, and OC/reader is Lady Sif

Gif credit @915archive

“Will you join us this time, brother?”

Loki hesitates at Thor’s question. He was never good at the sort of thing that his friends enjoyed so, which made him a target for ridicule across the realm. What kind of man, a prince nonetheless, was so weak and fearful? Not a real man, that’s what.

Thor didn’t make it easier for him. Being the picture of the formidable, valiant warrior, he made Felix’s shortcomings all the more stark. Loki was all too aware of the comparisons people liked to make between them--they would fawn over how Thor was so brave, so strong, so much like the king that his frail little brother could never be. They would laugh and thank their stars that the fates were kind enough to have Thor be the old king’s first born and not his pitiful little brother.

Even Thor, who claimed to love him most in the world, was embarrassed of him. He always tried to egg him on and make him engage in “manlier” endeavors and forsake his witchcraft, forcing him along on his reckless adventures with his gang of hooligans so he would toughen up. How can he say that he loves him when he saw him as something that needed to be fixed? Thor didn’t love him. He pitied him.

Only you gazed upon him and accepted him for who he was. You knew too well what it felt like to be underestimated and ridiculed for being different, for daring to not adhere to their millenia-old customs of what makes one a good warrior or a proper lady. Every time he would hide and cry, you would find him and remind him that underestimating him will be their downfall, that true weakness is stupidity and arrogance and they had that in excess.

And there you were, coming to his defense once more.

“Shut up, you big oaf. Loki doesn’t care for our silly games.”

“Why not? All he has to do is sit back and not get in the way of our fair maiden and he should be fine.” Volstagg cuts in, followed by a series of chuckles that ebb and flow through the group.

“Volstagg.” Thor warns, shooting him a glare that quiets the snickering down, but by then it was too late, the damage had been done.

For, worse than the comparisons between himself and his golden brother, were those between him and the woman he loved so dearly.

Your close relationship made it so it was easy for people to jeer at the fact that the warrior lady is doing a man’s job while the prince practised such cowardly arts as magic that were meant for women. The comparison wasn’t flattering to either of you as he was thought of as a weakling and you as a woman trying to be a man.

“No, Volstagg, go on. Tell me what exactly you mean to say.” Again, you start defending him, ready to start a fight with the large man who began slinking back when faced with your unbridled fury. You were always so passionate about defending him, but Loki cannot let you keep doing that. He needed to prove that he could look after himself, not to impress those mindless thugs, but to prove to you that he could be a man for you, and provide you with protection just like any other man.

“I’m sure he’s just joking, my lady.” Loki interrupts and you look at him with surprised eyes that get all the wider as he continues, “It doesn’t matter anyway as I’ll be joining you.”

“My prince, you don’t have to--”

“I don’t have to do anything, my lady. I want to. Now let’s stop this useless bickering and go.”

__________________________

There was a nervous energy within the group the whole time they were in Alfheim. The men felt weird with Loki there and Loki felt weird with the warrior lady always hovering around.

“Lady, if I didn’t know any better I’d think that you were trying to guard me. I don’t need guarding. I can defend myself.” He didn’t want to snap at you like that but he desired so desperately for you to see him as a man for once.

“O-of course, my prince.” You splutter, a pretty blush on your face from being called out, and hesitantly take a few steps away from him, still not going far.

Loki huffs and charges forward carelessly, if you weren’t going to give him space, he will take it himself. And it’s precisely his attempt to distance himself from you that gets them in trouble.

“Brother, look out!” Thor shouts and Loki looks up barely in time to see an elf descend on him from the tree he was under. Shouts rise up and fill the air as their party gets ambushed by the rogue elves they were after.

Loki gets outnumbered, one of the elves delivering a blow to him before you can make your way to him. But your party quickly overcomes their momentary shock and works fast to push back the elves, steadily gaining control and shifting the tides in your favor.  Eventually, you beat the band of rogue elves and send them scattering back into the woods.

When the fight dies down, things only get worse for Loki as you rush to cradle his body in your arms, thinking he is unconscious, before turning back to the men. “Shame on you! If you hadn’t been absolute pricks to him, he wouldn’t have felt the need to prove himself to you and get himself hurt. Why must you be like this?”

“I’m sorry, my lady.” Thor speaks up, sounding genuinely upset too.

“Oh, shove it up your big behind, my prince.” You growl, lifting Loki up in your arms and moving towards the portal to go back home.

Even without opening his eyes, he can feel your worried gaze on his face and it kills him.

__________________

Loki became closed off the entire period he was healing. The more you fussed over him, the quieter he got. He was so disappointed in himself and you taking care of him only wounded his ego further.

“Stop babying me, woman. You’re worse than the lot of them. Would you like me to hand you a pair of scissors so you can snip my balls off and hang them around your neck?”

You were taken aback by his outburst, and Loki regrets his outburst for a second, thinking he’s finally pushed you away. But instead of stomping off, you get on the bed and straddle him, grabbing his neck and growling roughly, “You don’t want me to be gentle with you? Fine, I won’t be gentle.”

You smash her lips to his, tearing a noise of surprise from his throat. You’d been patient enough with him but he insists on being a brat. If that’s the way he wants to be treated then so be it. And judging by the way he kissed you back eagerly, you don’t have to wonder long.

He was almost healed by now, and you could be free to run her hands all over him without hurting him, eliciting instead the most needy moans from his pretty lips. But when he tries to do the same, he is met with hard, unyielding steel.

"This is unfair. Take this off." He protests against your lips.

"I think not. You have been quite the sourpuss lately, I don't think you deserve to touch me. Matter of fact, keep those wandering hands up." You grab his hands and pin them to the bed, intending to punish him for all the hell he made you go through.

"No, please, my lady, let me touch you."

"Oh you're already begging, that's not very manly of you." You bite at him, still upset that he endangered his life just because his ego was bruised.

He cowers under your intense glare, feeling reprimanded. "I'm sorry, I'll be good."

"Oh you will be. Now quit your protesting or I'll gag you too."

He shuts up, though he's unsure if it wouldn't have been better for you to gag him as the noises that come out of his throat at your ministrations were not very dignified.

"You don't know how long I've been waiting to get my hands on you, my prince. You drive me crazy." You drawl, palming his member and making him turn to hide his face in his arm as a blush covers his face.

"I should punish you for teasing me so." You  slowly pull his trousers down his hips, exposing his eager member to the cool night air that was clashing with your warm breath so close to where he needed you the most. "Will you be good for me from now on, my sweet prince?"

This was everything they ridiculed him for, being so subservient to a woman like this, but damn did he crave it. He needed you to own him.

"Yes, my lady." He stares down at you as you lean down ever so close to his cock, your breath fanning over him, as hot as ever and he feels his skin melt under it. The heat spreading to the rest of his body made his blood simmer in his veins. Sweat beaded up on his skin and his mind sweltered as you put your mouth on him, but he could do nothing but push himself into the scorching heat of you, submitting himself to the flames.

But all too suddenly, he stops burning, coolness flashing over his body like one of his brother's storms, and he stares down at you in betrayal, ready to apologize for everything and profess his undying love for you if only she would put your mouth back on him, but the horror struck look on your face sobers him up.

"My lady, what is--"

"What is happening to you?" You shriek, and for the first time he sees fear in your eyes.

"What do you mean?" He puzzles, looking down at himself in reflex, wondering what had possessed you when a flash of blue catches his eyes…

Huge patches of his body were covered by rough blue skin, the likes of which are all too familiar to him. He can't help his own shout of panic. "What is that? What is happening?!"

"You're turning into a….a monster." You shake her head, tears springing to your eyes at the horror unfolding in front of you.

"Lady, help me please.” Loki is even more shaken, tears already streaming down his face as he seems terrified of his own self. “Did they put a curse on me?"

"I-I don't know." You lament, feeling hopeless.

But then an idea pops into your head, "I'll get the king. He'll know what to do."

"No, please!" His hands fly out to hold onto you but you jump back, and Loki quickly pulls his arms back to his body, wounded at the disgusted look on your face.

"Why not?"

"You know he doesn't favor me."

"Don't be ridiculous. He's your father." You try to calm him down but he only gets more disconsolate. "No you don't understand. You don't see the way he looks at him when no one is looking. I'm… I'm scared."

Your heart breaks at the way he shivers, but there is nothing else you can do. You’re sure he’s just panicked. Odin is good and kind and you trust him beyond measure. "You're hallucinating, my sweet. The king would never hurt you."

"No, you don't understand--" He squeaks, and you reach out to cradle his face in your palms, only flinching slightly at the coldness. "Hush, my sweet." You kiss him gently then run to the king. Hearing Loki sob behind you only makes you run faster.

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A/N: lol surprise