#i'm being very chill about not knowing how often that happens these days

[tripably]

Hey so To Be Punished hurt me all over again in this one sentence thanks ever so

how did my drarries spend the holidays? this is the cutest thing. thanks for the tag @garagepaperback. please please go read theirs because i am cradling each and every version of their drarry christmases in my hands. so gentle i swear :)

Got Me Started: harry buys draco a new bird mug for christmas. it reads "sucks cockatiel." draco yells at harry for being crass and uncouth because "It's Christmas; a time to treasure those we love. It is not a time for your low-brow, boorish attempt at humour." He storms out but later comes back and renders harry humourless, gives the mug a run for its money. harrys present from draco is also being put to good use, only the jewelled end is visible.

To Be Punished: harry makes gingerbread and cries.

The Love You Want: harry stole dracos portrait from the wall at the manor, put it up at grimmauld, the only frame there. he has kreacher set out a full christmas spread; honeyed ham, yorkshire puds, the old black candlesticks, red and gold embroidered napkins, christmas crackers. he sits at a table for one and thinks draco's portrait looks even better in the flicking candlelight.

Mirror, Me: draco shows harry all he's learned about muggle christmas. they go out (no cloak) and buy a skeletal, plastic christmas tree. harry sits in the armchair they thrifted a few weeks prior, watches draco put tinsel on the tree, wearing nothing but his pink, fluffy socks.

How Much: its christmas eve, harry arrives on draco's doorstep. draco's gaze travels hurridly over his frame, assessing, worried. But--no injuries, no blood, no nothing. harry's wearing a thick, woollen coat, a green herringbone scarf, a broad smile; bright even in the winter night, all teeth intact. he holds out his hand. "What are you doing?" "Taking you to get some hot chocolate." "But its after nine. And I've just had some." "You can never have too much."

okay tagging everyone thats already been tagged plus @letteredlettered @hephaestiions @vukovich @tripably @slyssnakes @smehur @phoenixortheflame @its-the-allure

[deepdarkdelights]

Predator (Jungkook x Reader) Part II - Prey

Pairing: Vampire Jungkook x Reader

Word Count: 5.2k

Series: Predator Universe

Warnings: 18+, Yandere, Vampire Jungkook, Obsession, Manipulation, Forced Relationships, Blood (So much of it), Fear (Copious amounts), Panic/Anxiety Attacks, Mind Games, Tormenting the MCs, Discussions about dead bodies, Jungkook and his unblinking stare, Self Injury (Non Mental Health Related), Forced Feeding, Isolation

I do not condone the acts displayed in this story nor do I believe any members of BTS would actually engage in this type of behavior. This is simply written for entertainment purposes and should not be taken as a reflection of my own values, opinions, or morals.

Preview: The worst part was that you never tried to run. Jungkook never tied you down to anything or bound your wrists or feet. He simply knew that you would never try. It would be idiotic for you to try and run, you knew he was a talented tracker - he would be able to find you within minutes of your escape. There was nowhere to run and nowhere to hide from him, he would always be able to find you.

A/N: I am alive! This was entirely inspired by an ask that was sent to me so the entire reason this exists is because of the wonderful anons who have asked be about what has happened since the end of Predator and who have asked to see what a more lucid Jungkook would look like. I haven't had this much fun writing in such a long time. I'm sorry it's so short, I hope you can forgive me 💜

READ PART I - PREDATOR

_______

It was dark and quiet, the only sound being the steady, slow, drip of water hitting the dusty floorboards and the harsh chatter of your teeth as they clashed together. 

You were freezing, your body trembling despite your best attempts to collect yourself. It was no use, no matter what you did you were never able to warm up anymore. You knew it wasn’t all that cold outside, but that didn’t really matter. Despite the chills that wracked your body there was a fine sheen of sweat that coated your skin.

You were unsure as to how much time had really passed since you had found yourself here. All of the days had begun to blend together like some horrible fever dream you simply couldn’t wake up from. The only constant in your life has become him. 

If you didn’t know any better, you would think he was trying to kill you. 

What was truly likely, was that this was a side effect of his treatment of you. It was very likely that he just didn’t know how to take care of a human. And despite your incessant pleading, he had told you that he would not kill you. So really, it was his own ineptitude that had you knocking on death’s door.

Your skin felt grimey, not entirely from lack of hygiene, but from the film of blood that coated your skin. It was all over you but it mostly dominated your cheeks, lips, throat, chest, and fingers. He was not violent when he claimed his feeds, but he was not necessarily gentle either. You hadn’t looked in a mirror for quite some time, but you were certain no amount of vampire blood would be able to seal your wounds with how often they were readily reopened.

This wasn’t a life, it was a slow and painful trek to the afterlife.

Your trembling increased as the front porch creaked, he was already back. Your head lolled backwards and hit the wall behind you in defeat. You couldn’t do this again, you couldn’t give him another part of yourself - this time you were certain that it would kill you. 

Every time he fed from you, there was a horrible, delightful, exhilarating rush that followed. Whatever it was that he was doing to you, it was forcing you to enjoy the very thing that was killing you. It was perverse. It was disgusting. It was addicting.

It was hard to hate him in the throes of ecstasy, there was this horrible thrill that came the second before his fangs pierced his limb of choice as you knew you would be rewarded with bliss in the moments that followed. It was easier to hate him when he wasn’t there, his lack of presence giving your mind the briefest of reprieves to remind yourself of the horrible situation you were truly in. 

The distance, however, didn’t seem to allow him the same clarity. If anything, it made him grow more needy, more irritated, and more clingy.

The door creaked open, and your time to yourself disappeared. Your body shook tenfold as his presence filled the room. He still looked the same as he did the first time you had come face to face with him. His clothes were worse for wear, even more blood stained and shredded than they had been before. There was a permanent coppery scent that surrounded him, the dried blood being the prime suspect. 

You were certain that you didn’t smell that much better. Although, to a vampire, you probably would smell all that more enticing.

His gaze was immediately drawn to you, your eyes locking with one another, bridging the fifteen foot gap between you. His eyes often fluctuated in vibrancy depending on how hungry he was. The days where they were near black were the most difficult for you, but today they were a bright crimson red. He had fed on someone, someone who luckily wasn’t you.

“Hello little mouse,” He greeted, his voice low and surprisingly soft, devoid of the almost manic tone you had been familiar with for the longest time. 

He began to close the distance between the two of you, his gait smooth as he approached you. The way he moved was unnaturally perfect, the silent power of a predator imbued in every muscle of his body.

He wordlessly dropped a bag in your lap as he sank down to the ground beside you, his wide, red, unblinking eyes staring at you, waiting for you to make a move. No matter how much time you have spent with him, his stare was still unnerving.

It took you longer than it should have to open it, your fingers trembling beyond your control. But Jungkook was patient, he has all of the time in the world to wait.

The scent of food hit your nose, your mouth watering and your stomach growling eagerly in response. From the color of his eyes and what he had brought you, you assumed he had decided to have his fill of a hiker instead of you. 

Jungkook didn’t know how to take care of a human, that much was obvious. He had, however, been keenly aware of how much blood he was draining from your body on a daily basis. You had become so weak, anything but sitting felt like a herculean task nowadays. And the lack of consistent meals was weighing heavy on your body.

You didn’t care that he was watching you eat, your mannerisms ravenous and most likely off putting. But you no longer complained when he took his fill of you, and for some reason he remained silent and returned that courtesy. 

You had noticed a shift in his behavior when that other vampire had found the two of you not that long ago. He knew Jungkook, from the way they spoke it appeared he knew him very well. This other vampire, despite how he appeared more human than Jungkook, frightened you just as much. You could tell from the curl of his smile to his confident gait that he was just as bad, if not worse, as Jungkook.

You had nearly fainted on the spot when he suggested the two of them share you, you were already tapped out as it was, Jungkook had fed on you that morning. The two of them, together, would kill you for sure.

To your surprise, Jungkook had not responded enthusiastically. He responded like an animal defending its territory - baring his fangs and growling in just barely contained rage. And that reaction had set off the other vampire and before you knew it they were a blur of limbs.

They moved so fast your human eyes could barely keep up with them. You were only able to focus when one of them threw the other giving you just enough time to watch them separate before they came back together again. The sound their bodies made when they clashed together was like thunder from what you could only assume was the pure force and strength they possessed. And, much like animals, they ripped and tore into one another with their teeth and nails.

By the time the two of them had finally separated for good, it was because of how much they had injured one another. The both of them were covered in wounds oozing black blood, some of which was their own, and some belonging to the other.

The other vampire, whom you had briefly heard Jungkook address as Hoseok, was tired but still enraged.

“Are you fucking serious? All of this for what, a pathetic little human?!” He yelled, his nostrils flaring in anger. “It’s food, Jungkook! I’m your brother!”

Your body flinched out of habit at the snarl that left Jungkook.

“With the rate that you’re going you’ll kill her anyways! Why does it even matter?!”

“She’s my human,” Jungkook replied, his voice low with warning.

“This isn’t even supposed to be about her! She’s nothing! Namjoon sent me to come and find you but you know what, I think I’ll let you deal with the consequences of your actions. It’s only a matter of time before he comes for you and when that happens, you're on your own!”

He disappeared quickly after that, it was like he was there one moment and then vanished the next. Once he was gone, Jungkook’s once sturdy stance softened, his shoulders bending forward from the strain of his own weight. He was hurt, badly.

He slowly turned to look at you, the red of his eyes and his dark mop of hair just visible over the curve of his shoulder. You knew that look, it usually didn’t end well for you. 

“No, no, no, Jungkook, please!” You whimpered, scrambling backwards.

But it was no use, he never listened to you anyways. He always took what he wanted, even when you had nothing left to give. 

He stumbled when he moved but he quickly regained his footing, his black blood stained hands grabbing you by the shins and pulling your retreating form towards him. You fought as hard as you could but you were already weak to begin with.

“Stop it, please!” You begged, but he didn’t listen. He wrapped his arms around you, his grip too tight and utterly uncomfortable. 

“Jungkook-”

“Shut up,” He grunted before yanking your head roughly to the side and sinking his teeth back into the scarred skin of your neck. The shriek that left you was borderline inhuman, the building scar tissue made the intrusion all the more painful and Jungkook was not gentle.

And he had already taken so much blood the day before. It wasn’t long before your eyes rolled to the back of your head and you went limp in his iron hold.

That was the first time that Jungkook had given you vampire blood. You had almost died that day, you had gotten so close to finally being free of him and still he wouldn’t let you go. Even death wasn’t a great enough adversary for him. 

When you had woken up after that attack, shocked that you managed to survive, you were met with those big, red, frightening eyes. The look on his face was the most serious you had ever seen it before, an odd clarity in his eyes that you were seeing for the first time.

He had been dreadfully quiet since then, speaking even less and shorter sentences than he normally did. You wouldn’t say he felt bad for what he did, but he had become increasingly aware of the inherent fragility that came with being human. He never apologized, but he had fed from you a lot less after that.

You froze mid bite as you felt his icy fingers graze your flesh, the coolness biting your skin and seeping into your veins. His touch was feather light, just barely there, but you went still beneath it anyways. You were incredibly aware of the strength that was concealed in that touch. He appeared unbothered by your response, his thumb smoothing over the curve of your jaw as he leaned in unbearably close.

You flinched at the feeling of cold metal being draped around your throat, his fingers clasping the material at the nape of your neck. It was a necklace. Your chest felt tighter, the food in your stomach quickly souring. 

He was doing it again. 

You were well aware of Jungkook’s strange and disturbing habit of taking mementos from his victims. His ears, wrists, neck, and practically every inch of his body were adorned with items he had stolen. You noticed he had an affinity for jewelry, but his jacket and boots had been taken from someone’s corpse as well. And, recently, he started bringing them back for you as well. 

Your bloody fingers were littered with several rings, a bracelet on your right wrist, and your ears decorated in earrings - some of which he had pierced himself. And now, the necklace.

It left your stomach in knots when he did this, you couldn’t help but think about the bodies abandoned in the woods that he had slaughtered every time the metal glinted back at you. Each piece felt like another shackle keeping you at his side. 

The worst part was that you never tried to run. Jungkook never tied you down to anything or bound your wrists or feet. He simply knew that you would never try. It would be idiotic for you to try and run, you knew he was a talented tracker - he would be able to find you within minutes of your escape. There was nowhere to run and nowhere to hide from him, he would always be able to find you.

And so, you had become his plaything. His dinner and now his doll, a weak body that he could play with and decorate to his greatest desires whether that be with a corpse's jewelry, or a litany of scars.

“Pretty,” He said, his voice deceptively soft as he grazed the skin of your neck, his fingers moving from the clasp of the necklace to trace over the scarred imprints of his fangs and teeth.

You were thankful that he wasn’t hungry.

The odd, calm atmosphere between the two of you was quickly dissipating. Jungkook shifted away, agitation clear on his face as an annoyed growl parted his lips. You flinched back against the wall, scooting away to stay out of his path. 

This wasn’t unusual - he had been having rapid mood swings lately.

The few moments of peace the two of you would share were often interrupted by the sudden pained twist of his features - his eyebrows drawing together and his nose scrunching in a snarl. It almost looked like he was in physical pain despite there being no signs of any injury.

And then, the pacing would start. It was like watching a caged lion sweep the perimeter of their enclosure. Back and forth, slow and menacing steps. It was like he was looking for something, or trying to guard the two of you from someone else. You hadn’t dared to ask what he was doing, to be entirely honest you tried your best to avoid initiating any interaction or conversation with him at all. The few times you did speak to him, it was usually to beg for him to leave you alone, pleas that often fell on deaf ears. 

You didn’t know what to do with this. When you first “met” him, he had been sadistic, like a zealous child with more power than they knew what to do with. He had wanted to play his sick and twisted games with you and the plan had always been to gorge himself on your blood and leave your mangled corpse deep in the forest to wither and return to the earth. That was what was familiar to you, that was what you were expecting. 

You were never supposed to live, that had been an unfortunate circumstance, a split decision he made to prolong your torture and pain. You didn’t know what you were supposed to do with this suddenly quiet, confused, and barely human creature in front of you. One that would rip open your flesh to feed just as soon as he would leave bruising kisses on your lips and throat, painting the flesh a rich red that was left to rust.

You were waiting for him to snap, waiting for it to all finally be over. But that would be luck, luck that you didn’t have. He had promised you, so long ago, that you would never be alone again, that he would keep you. And you have suffered the consequences ever since.

When he said your name you felt your blood freeze over. He had never said your name before, you didn’t even know that he knew it. He had always called you that horrific pet name, his little mouse.

You wrapped your arms around your legs, pulling them into your chest in an attempt to feel some sense of security as he continued to speak. 

“We’re leaving soon.” He said, the words simple but the expression on his face ever so complex. Reluctance, frustration, pain, anxiety.  

You swallowed, but did not move. The silence was deafening. But, by the look on his face, you knew that he was waiting for your response. You would have to break the stalemate. 

“Are you…taking me home?” You dared to ask, your heart thundering in your chest as that predatory gleam returned to those red eyes. 

“No,” He growled, his jaw clenched as his fangs ground against his lower set of teeth, “You’re not going back there, ever.”

Your heart shattered. 

“I’m being called back to my home.”

His home? This was the first that you were hearing of it, you never stopped to ask yourself if he had a home. You couldn’t picture it even if you tried, it was a puzzle piece that simply didn’t fit. You had always assumed he was simply a nomadic creature that moved as he hunted. And, due to his supernatural nature, it seemed that he never needed the typical human necessities and comforts such as four walls and a roof. 

You knew he had some sort of family at the very least. You had, after all, had the displeasure of meeting Hoseok who had referred to himself as his brother. And he had mentioned the name Namjoon, the phrasing suggesting a hierarchical structure. But even the notion that he had a family felt just as mismatched. And how ironic it was that he was returning home to a family he didn’t even want, and he wouldn’t let you go home to the family that you missed so much. 

“And that’s bad?” You hesitantly asked, flinching as he growled in frustration. 

“It’s worse than bad!” He yelled, his hands sliding through his hair in stress, “It was difficult enough fending Hoseok off, but all six of them? You’re as good as dead.”

Hope.

“Then…don’t go?” You said, although it sounded more like a question. By the way he was acting, it was like returning was not a choice. 

“If only it were that easy,” He laughed, the sound bordering on being unhinged. “I can’t ignore it, if I’m called I have to answer. If I don’t it becomes more and more persistent. It feels like a cord that grows tighter and tighter until it pulls and my body moves on its own and takes me back.”

That explained the pacing, the restlessness his body had been experiencing. He had been trying to redirect it by walking the perimeter of the decrepit cottage but it had been a temporary fix to the problem. You could only assume that he was getting to the point now where his body was ready to return against his will. 

How horrible it was, to be someone’s unwilling puppet. You knew that feeling all too well. 

You didn’t know what you were supposed to tell him. There were no choices to be made by the two of you. He would have to return, and he wouldn’t leave you here on your own as he knew you would be given the greatest opportunity you have ever had to leave him. So, he would have to take you with him right into the lion’s den where you would undoubtedly be consumed.

He was mumbling to himself now, his pacing becoming more frantic and much faster, your human eyes struggling to keep track of him. You were sure that he was moving so fast he would wear down the old floorboards beneath him and the soles of his beat up boots.

You could only assume that meant the call was becoming even stronger. Before - it was asking, now it was commanding.

You had never seen him so frantic before, those wide blood red eyes unblinking and shifting back and forth faster and faster as his thoughts raced. It was borderline demonic, like something you would see during a paranormal movie or an exorcism. It was terrifying. 

You began to scoot back as far away as you could until your spine was flush with the wall behind you. You felt better with some part of you concealed from the open, but that did little to calm your racing heart and the creature that raged in front of you.

What was he so afraid of, so panicked by? You couldn’t imagine anything scaring him, not with how terrifying he was on his own. What could be so bad, so scary, that it frightened a monster? You weren't sure you wanted to find out, even if it meant you could finally feel the sweet embrace of death and escape him once and for all. 

Jungkook finally came to a stop, his body still but his eyes continued to move erratically. And then they too settled, and a look of deadly calm settled over them. He had decided something, and you were certain that whatever his decision was it wouldn’t be good for you. 

“They wouldn’t,” You heard him mutter to himself, “Not if I put a fail safe if place.”

A fail safe?

Before you could even blink he had moved across the room, faster than your eyes could track. Your body had been ripped away from the wall and set in between his legs, your spine pressed against his chest, the both of you seated on the ground.

An uncontrollable wail shook your body, the sound emanating a feeling of pure hopelessness. You had been surprised it came out of you, but you knew why. You were terrified he was going to feed from you again. 

His one arm was wrapped around your ribs, his legs tensed and forcing your own to squeeze together. He had immobilized you, there was nowhere else you could go and no way to escape him. 

Your entire body shook and heaved with hysterical breaths as you writhed in his grip. “Please, please don’t do it again I can’t take anymore of this!”

He hushed you, his free hand brushing over your hair in a surprisingly gentle manner. It was more like someone who was trying to calm a startled stray animal than anything else. His touch moved to your chin, lightly taking hold of the point where your neck and jaw bone met.

He didn’t say anything, instead he forced you to look at him, turning your face so that he could look directly into your eyes. And then, to your shock and horror, he plunged his fangs into his own wrist and ripped the flesh wide open. A torrent of thick, viscous, black blood rolled down the pale flesh of his forearm. And before you could do or say anything he grabbed you by your hair and jerked your head back before pressing his open wound to your mouth. 

You gagged at the smell and taste, tears blurring your vision as you tried to move your head away but he did not budge. His arm around your ribs finally moved but only to help him pry your jaw open and force the blood flow down your throat. He continued to hush you as he forced you to drink, gently rocking your body in stark contrast to the harsh and violent hold he had you in. 

“Just relax,” He whispered against the shell of your ear, “The more you struggle, the longer I’ll keep you here. We need to get as much of my blood as possible into your system.”

You were crying even harder now, the salt of your tears slipping between his wrist and your lips and mingling with his blood in your mouth. What had you ever done to deserve this? What horrible thing had you done in some past life to deserve this kind of punishment?

You just wanted to go home. You wanted your mom and dad, your grandparents, and the gentle comfort of your bed in your childhood room. You wanted that life back, and you were never going to have it again. 

His harsh grip on your jaw loosened as you went limp in his arms, resigning yourself to your inescapable fate. His hand returned to those soothing strokes against your hair, a low hum in his chest vibrating against your back as he watched you feed from him with a curious gaze. You were such a weak little thing, you needed him more than you would ever understand. 

You hiccupped pathetically when he finally removed his wrist from your mouth after what felt like hours. Your lips and chin were stained black from the blood he spilled when you had struggled. He stared at you again, curiosity evident in his gaze, as he leaned forward and licked the flesh of your lips, tasting his own blood.

You shivered as he made a soft hum, cocking his head to the side before doing it once more, stroking over the bitten and chapped skin with his tongue as he transitioned into kissing your battered lips in a grotesque act of intimacy. He laughed against your mouth as you weakly pushed against his chest, he was amused by your pathetic attempts to push him away. It only encouraged him to kiss you harder and deeper, sampling the taste of his own blood straight from your mouth. 

Once he was satisfied he finally allowed you to breathe, a devious gleam in his eyes that you had not seen in a long time. 

“They won’t be able to kill you for a while now, not unless they want another vampire to worry about.” He said. He was gloating, reveling in the win his family had no idea he had already achieved.

Your blood ran cold, your body freezing at his revelation. The very thing you craved, your own death and by association freedom from him, would be the very thing that would trap you with him for the rest of eternity. If you were killed with his blood in your system, you would become one of them. He truly had taken everything from you, even the dignity of your own death. Your life was his and his alone.

He really was a monster.

His features suddenly twisted in pain, his head jerking to the side as he released a low and threatening growl. The call was becoming even stronger, the most intense it had ever been. There was no more delaying it. They had to go, and they had to right now. 

He quickly lifted you into his arms as his body began to move on its own, forcing him to begin to move in the direction of his home. There was nothing more that you could do, all you could do was remain limp in his arms. It was over, there was point in fighting anymore.

He had finally broken you. 

When he stepped outside you were shocked by the fresh air and the cold weather. Then again, you always feel cold now. The clouds were thick today, the sun hidden behind their cover. It had been so long since you were outside, and even longer since you had been in the sun - that wouldn’t change in the near future. But what truly shocked you, was that the world went on without you. The seasons continued to change, the flora continued to flourish and then decay. The cycles continued while you were stored away. How cruel the world was to keep going on as you withered away. 

You leaned your head against his shoulder, shielding your face from the harsh wind as he began to move faster, running at his impossibly fast pace that no human could ever wish to match. How had so much changed? When did you go from human being to a play thing for a monster like him. You had a life, but now it had become inconsequential, toyed with and thrown away like it never even mattered.

What were you supposed to do now? At the end of the day, it didn’t really matter. He had won, he had played his sadistic stupid games with you, and he had won. He had broken you. You tucked your chin into your chest and like the pathetic creature that you were you whimpered.

You cared about what was going to happen next. If Jungkook had been wrong, then the two of you walking into the proverbial lion's den would end with you turning into one of them, a fate worse than any other that you could imagine. To be tied to him for all of eternity would be your personal hell on earth. 

What would they do to you when you got there? Would your death before your next life be slow and torturous, or quick and merciful? Would it be planned and intentional, or accidental? 

Jungkook began to slow, his fast pace relaxing into a natural walk. The tension that previously rested in his body had begun to dissipate. You could only speculate this was the relief of obeying the command to return home. His control over his own body was slowly but surely coming back to him the closer the two of you came to his home.

He stopped for a moment, placing you down on your own two feet before he took hold of your wrist and forced you to follow after him. Your knees wobbled beneath your weight, unaccustomed to you standing after being curled up in a ball in that abandoned shack for the longest time. You looked more like a baby fawn learning to walk than you did that meek little mouse Jungkook always thought you were. He, however, paid little attention to you at that moment. He was tense, his body in a state of alert as subtly surveyed the area as you continued on. 

He could sense something that your dull human senses weren’t entirely picking up on. However, the hair on the back of your neck prickled and your gut twisted as you felt phantom eyes digging into your body. 

Someone, somewhere, was watching you. 

A building began to break through the cluster of trees. A modern, contemporary house in the middle of the forest was coming into view. This was the last place you thought of when Jungkook had mentioned his home. In all honesty, you would have been less surprised by a crypt and a row of coffins.

In front of the house, stood a man. His arms were crossed in front of his chest, his eyes that familiar shade of deep burgundy, the same shade the monster’s eyes were when he was hungry. This sent chills throughout your body, your entire being sensing the danger in the vampire that stood across from you. 

Those burgundy eyes swept towards you, a look of shock and confusion discoloring their once calm gaze that you speculated was rarely rattled. His features twisted as he took in the state of you, the dried human and vampire blood that coated your body in thick layers, the dirt that was caked into your clothing, your hair that needed to be washed, and the smattering of scars that decorated your body and glistened in the cloudy daylight. 

You were barely human anymore, you were a walking corpse.

“You called me home, Namjoon.” Jungkook simply said, his body moving to shield you from the other vampire's gaze.

“Jungkook,” Namjoon said, utter disbelief tinging his words, “What are you doing to her?” 

In every possible scenario you had conjured in your mind, this had not been one of them.

Sympathy.

_______

[shytastemakerthing]

Hello! Could I request a platonic MC telling Riddle, Ace, Deuce, Cater, Leona, Floyd, both Scarabia boys, and Malleus that out of the whole cast, they're her favorite?

I'm not sure if that's too much, but if it is you could you just do Riddle, Leona, Scarabia, & Malleus. Thank you!

A/N: Hello and thank you so much for your request! I found this one to be rather cute, thank you, Anon! I hope that you enjoy!

Tw: Brief mentions of trauma (Riddle, Malleus, Scarabia duo, and tiny bit in Floyd's)

Request: Boys reacting to being the favorite of platonic!MC

He promises that he isn't mad, given that's when we see his face as red as he is, you just... caught him off guard

Out of everyone, he was your favorite?

Granted, you seemed to have a good choice in mind, it's just that... him?

He didn't exactly have the best upbringing and much of what he does is rather new

But he takes this role of being your favorite very seriously

You are now the best and closest person that he has to family, and ring the honorary 'older brother' and favorite, he wants to be able to give you the things he wasn't able to have growing up

Now, if everyone will excuse him, he has to meet with MC for strawberry tarts and tea

One word, smug

There were literal princes in this college, and he was the one you said was your favorite?

Yeah, he is eating that all up

But he also sees just how serious you are about that declaration with how you seem to stick to him, especially in moments of danger

Big brother mode has been activated

Ace is quite often seen hanging around you a whole lot more

Before anyone asks, no, he doesn't know what happened to his spare jersey is, and yes, it is just a coincidence that you have one that matches

Instantly told his mother the moment that you told him that he was your favorite out of everyone in the college

Low-key wanted to cry

Another who took this role very seriously

Deuce ensures that you have everything it is that you need throughout the day

Food, water, a spare jacket, notebook, or a pencil

He just wants to be able to take care of you, if he is seen as your favorite, he must take on that responsibility

Do you wanna come and watch him during club practice? He will make sure that you have what you need to be comfortable

Please excuse him, he needs a moment

You managed to catch him alone when you told him of this little information of yours

And for the first time, you saw that constant positive facade of his drop for just a moment

Are you sure it's not just the happy side that he shows to everyone that is your favorite?

No?

It's literally all of who he is?

Yeah, a couple tears were shed

You are the only person he let's see him for who he is and much of the time you two are together, you're chilling in either of your rooms

He remembers the excitement he felt when you showed up to the Light Music Club to see him

Will you come more often?

Another one who needed a moment to reflect on what it is that you said, even asked you to repeat it several times

Look, all his life, he's been second place to pretty much anything and looked down upon for his second born prince status

And he is your favorite out of everyone here?

Also a bit smug about it

Will want to hear you say it every day, him being your favorite

Will often give you small gifts here and there ranging from clothes to little trinkets

Protective big bro mode coming out

Oh, you came to see him during Magic shift wearing his dorm uniform?

Well, don't take your eyes off of him. Time to show you all that your favorite can do

Congrats, you're a Leech now

New little sibling, you have been adopted and he's bringing the parents to come and meet the newest edition to the family

If you thought he was latched onto you before, it's at an all new extreme now

He is your favorite person

Meaning he now wants to be with you and take care of you like a good big brother

He is used to people wanting to be more around Jade as they deemed him to be the safer of the twins (an error on their part), so having someone who says he is the favorite?

He takes his last name a bit seriously

Did you just show up to the game in his spare jersey? Well, it looks like NRC is going to secure themselves a win

To be honest, it's a phrase he is kinda used too, given all the siblings that he has, there is no doubt that he has been told that before

But it's different for you

You're new to this world, you have no one here to really turn to, so the fact that you have chosen him as your favorite?

He is quite happy to hear those words and was merely seconds away from throwing a party before you stopped him

If there is anything that you need, please let him know, he will certainly get you anything that you need no matter what it is

Another one who told his family about you and they are all rather excited to be able to finally meet you

Kalim was quite happy seeing you at club practice, want him to teach you? He has no issue with it

Will also make you repeat that statement several times no matter how many days it has been since hearing that statement

At times, it is still a bit hard for him to believe, given how he was raised and his status

He was never anyone's favorite before, so he will be clinging onto that title something fierce

Every time you tell him, you can see the hint of a smile on his face, a real and genuine smile

Constantly ensures you have what you need throughout the day

Unlike with Kalim, he is more than happy to help you out

Homemade meals, tea, even help with studying, just let him know and he will be there to help you out, okay?

Now, are you ready? He just brought everything you guys will need to make a traditional Scalding Sands meal

Well, it isn't raining anymore

It had been a rather stormy day on campus when you had finally found him and shared that little bit of information

Now it was nice and sunny outside and he had a smile to match

Are you saying that you actively went out in that horrible storm with the sole mission to seek him out, and tell him that he was your favorite person?

He had been alone for so much of his life, so to have this conversation with you

Please excuse him, he really isn't trying to tear up

Instantly invited to Diasmonia for a number of things

Has to stop Lilia from straight up adopting you.... even if he didn't mind, he wanted you to be okay with it before anything

Sebek obviously praised your taste when it came to choosing your favorite person, of course you would choose Malleus!

Now, if you will all excuse them, they have some gargoyle studies that they have to attend too

Thank you for your request! Have a wonderful day/night!

[hotdsworld]

"Beneath the mask" Neteyam Sully

Neteyam Sully x F!Reader

a/n: I advise to read warnings before going straight to the fic! Beautiful dividers from @cafekitsune

Summary: you never know what's hidden beneath the mask.

Word count: 3,2k

Warnings: 18+!, mentions of a murder, mentions of body injuries (not Reader), aged up Neteyam, stalking, noncon, oral (F receiving), piv, no protection, breeding kink, chase, knife play, body betrayal

Dead dove do not eat

You knew someone was watching you, but you didn't expect it to turn out like it did. They say people wear masks every single day, but you didn't expect the Ghostface mask to hide something so familiar.

The feeling of being watched was with you all the time, like a shadow always present and hard to ignore. You tried to convince yourself that it's just paranoia, but deep down, you knew there was more to it. Ever since the Ghostface killer appeared in the news for the first time your anxiety got worse.

You found yourself looking over your shoulder more often, double checking your locks and windows, getting worried over the smallest of sounds. The possibility of Ghostface targeting you was low, but how low? You didn't want to risk it. After all, why not you? You were innocent, and psychos like this loved the innocents the most. Something to prey on, to defile, to break… and weren't you the perfect target? A student living on her own in a shitty neighborhood.

Every day, you could feel someone's eyes on you but whenever you looked over your shoulder there was nothing. You wanted to go on with your life normally, you didn't want to go crazy and have people judge you. Your friends were very supportive, but you didn't think they would understand how scared you are every single day. Your best friend understand you perfectly well, but he was gone for a family trip so you had no one to talk to. He was different… not quite a human, but he understood you like no human could. Maybe Neteyam has more humanity in himself than others.

You were sitting at your Spider’s house, watching a movie of his choosing. It wasn't the best one, but you didn't complain. After all, he was the one that mattered right? Your compatibility and connection… but his focus was on the movie. Spider was really sweet and charming so you decided to give him a chance. You wanted something true and pure to happen to you and with Spider it felt like it might be it. You crossed your legs, trying to get into the plot too. Spider placed his hand on your thigh, caressing it a little. A gesture you welcomed, it's been a while and you're touch starved. Not even a minute after your phone rang, you smiled shyly.

“Sorry, I forgot to turn it off,” you looked at the screen, your eyebrows raising a bit upon seeing ‘unknown’. You picked up, looking around, it was a habit now. “Hello?” Usually, you don't pick up from numbers you do not know… but you had a feeling and you need to pick up from this one.

“Good evening, y/n” the voice on the other end was smooth, almost polite, but there was an underlying menace that sent chills down your spine. You looked at Spider, but he was too engrossed in his movie to notice your discomfort. How did the caller know your name? It must be one of your friends pranking you…

“Who is this?” you asked, trying to keep your voice steady. After all, you are in a safe house with Spider not so far from the campus. You are going to be fine and no silly prank will change that. Nothing bad could happen here, right?

“You tell me,” a hint of a challenge in his voice. The caller was taunting you and somehow it was filling you up with anxiety.

“Well, I have no idea,” you sighed. It wasn't something funny to you. Prank calls are supposed to be funny but this is just unsettling.

“Do you like scary movies, y/n?” The question was casual, but it sent a chill down your spine. Why would he ask about something like this?

“Stop playing around, Lo’ak. I'm busy right now,” you snapped, your irritation mixing up with the fear.

“Busy? Watching? Or letting him touch you? You are better than that, y/n,” the worst taunted, dripping with disdain. But who did he despise? You? Or Spider? Your heart skipped a beat. Did Spider tell Lo'ak you were going to visit? Was the called really Lo’ak? What kind of a sick joke was that? “Not Lo’ak. Keep guessing.” You looked around the living room, suddenly feeling exposed and vulnerable. Now you didn't feel as safe as you did before.

“Who the hell is this?” you demanded, raising your voice in panic. Spider looked at you with concern. But that only made the caller chuckle, he was mocking you.

“Let's just say. I'm so much closer than you realize, in every meaning of this sentence,” there was a sinister edge to his words that made your blood run cold. Without another word, you hung up, your hands trembling. You couldn't handle any more of this twisted prank. Spider paused the movie, he approached you with a worried expression.

“Are you okay? What was that anyway?” He rubbed your back, to comfort you a little. Spider suspected it was a stupid joke but seeing you so scared moved him a little.

“A prank call. It was just very weird,” you let Spider lead you back to the couch. You clung to him, calming down a little. His arm around your shoulders, giving you a sense of safety. You were feeling better, but you couldn't shake off the feeling of being watched… as always. Spider held you close, his presence reassuring.

“It's just a prank, don't let it get to you,” he sighed. You nodded, trying to believe his words. On the other hand, the voice on the phone felt too real, too menacing… and the way he knew about Spider. Your phone kept calling, filling you with worry. “You want me to get it?” Spider offered. He had no problem with handling a stupid teenager or a creep.

“No, I'll do it,” you tried to sound braver than you felt. You answered the call again, feeling better with Spider close to you.

“Don't hang up on me again,” the caller hissed. His voice dripping with menace and for a second you thought, what if you are talking to the actual devil? There was ringing upstairs.

“Shit, my phone. I will be back,” Spider patted your shoulder before running upstairs. You sighed, realizing you are alone again.

“What do you want? I don't find this funny anymore,” you were scared of course… but you were angry. Who could ruin your date like this? Your mood and wellbeing? Who does that to another human being? The caller was silent, you weren't even sure if he's still there. “Hello?” No answer… you hung up, shaking your head in disbelief. “Do you need help finding your phone?” You call out to Spider. He always loses his phone so it wasn't a surprise it was taking him longer. Spider didn't respond so you walked upstairs. “Have you found it?” You scan every single room with no success until you reach his bedroom. Your phone fell out of your hand as you gasped in terror.

Your date was gut open like a fucking animal. Spider's body was lying down mutilated, his insides spilling out. You looked away feeling as if you were going to throw up. It was disgusting and terrifying. But not as terrifying as the realization that you are here alone, with the predator who most likely wanted to give you the same treatment. You realized just now it was the Ghostface… You ran out of the house, feeling terrible about leaving Spider's body here but you refused to just give up. You sprinted into the woods. In the house, he would catch you for sure, but here? Here, you had a chance to fight and it was all that mattered.

“Running won't save you, pretty girl.” His voice echoed through the trees, taunting you. You glanced over your shoulder, your eyes widening upon noticing the figure in black robes and a ghostface mask walking calmly after you. He was close… to close. You pushed yourself harder, even though you couldn't breathe, even though your heart hurt. “You are just making it even more fun for me. You can't hide from me, I know you too well. I am everywhere,” his voice seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at once. You have never been so scared, but you forced yourself to stay focused. You stumbled over a root, quickly gathering yourself and continuing the run. Every step was a struggle, your heart beating quickly as if it wanted to jump out of your chest… but you couldn't stop. Not now. “Is this the best you can do? I thought you were smarter than this,” he taunts. You ignored him, struggling to breathe. You could hear his steps, urgent yet patient. You zigzagged through the trees, hoping to lose him, but he was always there… right behind you. There was silence… you kept pushing forward until you dared to look back.

“Where are you?” You whispered, frantically looking around. He was gone. Ghostface lost you… You closed your eyes, trying to breathe normally again. Just then a hand clamped over your mouth, stifling your scream. Another hand pulled you closer by your waist from behind, against a solid chest. You kicked, trying to break free but it was futile. There was no escaping his grip.

“Shhhh, sshhh, shhh. Did you really think you could escape me, little bunny?” he whispered into your ear, his breath hot against your skin. You thrashed harder, your heart pounding in your chest. “Don't worry. I will take care of such a pretty bunny like you,” he pinned you against the tree, getting rid of the pretty dress you were wearing. “All dressed up? What a shame he won't see this,” he cut through the fabric of your clothes with a sharp knife, causing you to tremble. You were vulnerable, defenseless, cornered like a prey… like a bunny.

“Get away! Get away!” Your screams stifled. You were no match for him, he was much stronger… yet you didn't wish to give up. Once Ghostface got you completely naked, he pushed you on the ground on your back. You hated him for what he did, was doing, and what he is going to do. Why then deep down there's a hint of excitement? You were disgusted. The huge palm over your mouth prevents you from screaming, no matter how hard you bite into it. Ghostface pushed your legs forward, revealing your pussy to him.

“And you are so innocent… I don't think innocent little bunnies get wet for killers.” As much as you did want to argue, his hand prevented you from doing so. You kicked and pushed with no success yet. Ghostface tilted your chin up, as he didn't want you to catch the glimpse of his skin as he raised the mask a little, just so his lips could connect with your pussy. He hummed, enjoying how wet you already were. It turned you on more than he expected. “So fucking tasty,” he moans into your pussy, enjoying it like one of the greatest meals he had ever gotten to try. You held back every single sound that wanted to escape your lips. You didn't want to enjoy it, you wanted to be disgusted and furious. You weren't supposed to enjoy it… you bit on his hand hard as he focused on sucking on your clit. You wanted to push his head away, but it was like he was made of stone. Nothing could move him. “Stop whining. I am a gentleman who prepares you, if I was an asshole I would have you suck me off, no? Be a good little bunny and enjoy,” he suckled, eating you out sloppily. You wanted to ignore the pleasure building up in your stomach… you really did, but it felt as if your body was betraying you… for him. Ghostface was eating your pussy like he waited for it his whole life. It was disturbing. You had no idea who it was, you wanted to run away and never go back… yet your body was reacting to him. “Come on, bunny. Cum for your new master. Show how happy you are to be owned by me,” he mumbled against your pussy, mixing the techniques to make you feel as good as he possibly can. He wasn't a monster… he will pleasure you a bit before completely destroying you. You held back and you wished you did that for longer, but you came undone under his experienced mouth. You took a deep breath, struggling again which only seemed to amuse Ghostface more. “Bunny already trying to run away? Not even going to please your master?” He easily manhandled you into a doggy position, pushing your head down to the ground as your ass remained up. You wanted to crawl away, anything to escape his grip but you were too weak. Ghostface got behind you easily, his cock rubbing against your wet folds. He put his knife against your neck, not eager to play any games now.

“No, no, no, no,” you could already tell it was huge, the thought made you both excited and terrified. How could you explain this? How come you were finding this exciting? Ghostface didn't let you wonder for too long, pushing himself inside you once his cock was coated in your wetness.

“Fuck, bunny. You are so tight. Such a perfect toy for me… Once I saw you with Spider I need my plan needs to happen faster.” You yelped, gripping the ground underneath you desperately. It felt as if he was ripping you apart. Your eyes filled up with tears as you bit your lip hard. Ghostface gave you some time to adjust, knowing that he's so much bigger than average men. His fingers caressing your clit gently, trying to get you even wetter so it goes smoothly. You were losing the strength to fight… Why fight? He was already doing as he wished, and your body didn't seem to complain much. Getting stretched out by that thick cock of his, your walls were giving in quite easily. As if your body belonged to him. Ghostface began to move in and out of you slowly, enjoying the way your hungry pussy clung to him. Gradually, he was increasing the pace of his thrusts, feeling how easier it was becoming to move in and out of you. His fingers rubbing against your clit in circles. As his other hand traced all over your back with the blade, sending chills down your spine. The previous pain was mixing up with pleasure, and you couldn't hold back your sounds of pleasure anymore. You will hate yourself for that later but now, you enjoyed what he was doing to you and how he was making you feel. “Such a tight little bunny. Squeezing my cock so much. It's like your pussy wants me to stay here forever, no? So wet too… you're just a deranged slut who deems herself innocent, but do you feel this, bunny? How wet you are getting for a masked killer who chased you through the woods?” Ghostface gets rough, pressing on your lower back, causing your head to be pressed to the ground. His cock deep inside of you, you weren't sure it's possible for someone to reach so deep inside of you… “Dumb little bunny, you think you could escape this?” He taunts, taking pleasure in degrading you in such a way. You were a conflicted mess, brain filled with nothing but thoughts of how good his dick felt inside of you. You were getting close to the edge again, Ghostface could feel your walls clenching around his cock. “Is that slutty bunny going to cum for me again? Such an obedient little whore… but I want to see you cum,” he flipped you over onn your back, putting his weight on you. You whimpered needily, feeling empty after he pulled out for a moment. You were desperate to cum on his cock. Your pride, morals, and rules didn't matter now. All that mattered was his cock inside of you making you cum. Ghostface pushed back in, groaning as your pussy sucked him back in eagerly. You were truly perfect for him. His knife tracing around your collarbones, moving down to your breasts. Somehow, it was arousing. The cold blade against your warm skin, the danger.

“Please,” you whimpered, looking up at him. You weren't sure if you were asking for him to keep going or to stop. You just needed something. Ghostface decided for you, thrusting in and out of you at a punishing pace, his fingers playing with your needy clit. He intended to push you towards the edge… and then off of it. The blade against your neck, pressed a little harder than before. Ghostface didn't miss how it made you clench.

“Master's perfect bunny. That's right, don't think of anything. Dumb little bunnies like you don't need to think for themselves. Let your master think for you, bunny. You just need to enjoy what I'm giving you.” Normally, you would resist, you would say something back, but you were too damn close to orgasm to think. Your eyes rolling back with every deep thrust. His tip seems to hit your g-spot every single time. “Cum for your master. And when you do master's going to breed you, pump you full of my potent seed. I'm going to claim you, bunny. You are going to be mine and mine only,” he slowed down but the intensity of his moves increased. "Moan for your master, bunny"

“Such a pretty obedient slut for me. You are making your master proud, bunny. For that I'm going to cum inside. I will give you so many little bunnies,” he groans. His cock was twitching inside of you, signaling that he's close and of course, he had no intention of pulling out. He wanted to claim you as completely and utterly his. He wanted you to bear the evidence of what happened tonight in this forest. He wanted you to remember. Even though you were weak you forced yourself forward and you pulled the mask off, gasping as it revealed the handsome blue face you knew perfectly. Your fucking best friend. The epitome of innocence was murdering people with a knife. He was the one who stalked you the whole time, making you feel like you are paranoid. “Surprised? Silly bunny,” he took off the voice changing device. Neteyam pumped you full of his cum, keeping eye contact with you. He didn't seem ashamed or regretful, he seemed pretty proud of what he did. His beautiful eyes flashing with possessiveness and obsession. Neteyam was down bad for you. You didn't know if you should feel betrayed, depressed, or angry. That man was the epitome of innocence, how come he was behind every cruel thing that happened today? And not only… Ever since he met you, he knew you were going to be his. Neteyam isn't human, you couldn't possibly expect him to act like one. Every single day he made sure you were safe by observing you. You are such an adorable bunny, he needed to make sure no one's going to steal you. Neteyam

“Oh my gosh, oh fuck,” your body shook as the wave of pleasure washed over you again, moaning loudly. Ghostface kept going, fucking you through your high. You knew it shouldn't be happening. You should be devastated but somehow you enjoyed everything.

“It's going to be okay, little bunny. You are safe with me… forever” he planted a tender kiss on your forehead before offering you the black robes. You belonged to him now, his little bunny.

[t1oui]

going to school and being friends with percy jackson would be REALLY WEIRD so let's discuss it rq

he gets dropped off every day in his stepfather's car, which inexplicably has hoof prints on the hood?

the panic attacks... there's a lot of them, and nobody can even tell what's triggering them at this point

the old counselor disappears about a week into his first year at AHS (here's some cotg lore for yall) and is replaced by a weird lady who finds a way to bring percy up to every. single. student. who visits her office.

randomly disappears multiple times throughout the year

very very sea green eyes and a gray streak in his hair

once got out of the pool after swim practice and was completely dry (he insists it was a trick of the light)

the blue food obsession ofc

talks about his girlfriend annabeth all the time... even his friends are convinced it's a "my canadian girlfriend" situation bc he never calls her. he doesn't even have a PHONE

always carries around a pen in his pocket and even though it's just a shitty old ballpoint, NOBODY IS ALLOWED TO TOUCH IT. also he never uses it. ever.

every teacher has sent an email with their concerns about him to the counselor and when that doesn't work to his parents. the responses are always very awkward and vague

talks about his bio dad a lot... never explicitly negative but bro clearly has daddy issues lol

will sometimes randomly mention camp/war/gods and then brush it off like it never happened

absolutely vibrated in his seat the entirety of the greek mythology unit... told the teacher "a demigod named perseus fought ares once" and the teacher just assumes he means the og (aka the one he's named after)

that one upbeat popular guy everybody knows absolutely nothing about, his friends included

they probably have a spreadsheet with all the info they actually DO know about him

finds a way to brag about his mom in every conversation no matter how irrelevant... his friends are used to it atp

everyone's so used to seeing him smiling and laughing that when, say, he catches a younger kid being bullied, it's actually terrifying to see how angry he gets. everybody in that hallway gets chills

there's something off about him and nobody can tell what. that's just how he is

sometimes weird people in weird outfits are hanging around the school and they're ALWAYS looking for him.

every time someone asks what college he's going to he gives a different answer or straight up avoids answering so nobody actually knows

(if he says a school and someone is like "omg me too" he changes his answer right then and there lol... he's like "oh nvm i forgot i'm actually going here my bad" and the person is so confused)

nobody ever sees him working on college applications but he complains about having to do them all the time... bro is like "yeah i had to go through a sewer system but at least my girlfriend and my best friend were there" and his friends are like yo HUH

never explains anything he says

presentation night presentation = all the shittiest things my family has done and he's laughing about it but wdym your aunt kidnapped you and gave you amnesia???

sometimes he's getting fed up with a teacher or another student and a pipe randomly bursts in the school. like it's weird how often his anger ends in a plumber being called when he's nowhere near the problem

where everyone else is excited to watch a movie and chill in class, percy complains through the entirety of hercules - not just "oh this movie sucks", more like "god hercules is such a dick, idk why they made him chill in this movie"

the weirdest part is how, when percy complains about zeus being a good dad in the movie, it starts thundering outside

nobody can keep track of how many schools he's been to at this point... there's a whole section of the spreadsheet for this

when percy's friends finally meet annabeth they are SHOOK bc they truly did not think this girl was real

alright i can't think of anything else but if i DO i will add on later

[bi-badass-geek]

Hades 1 vs Hades 2 Designs

● Hermes besides Hypnos was first character that made me think when i saw him oh some time has passed since Zag's escapes indeed, makes you feel that time skip. In this particular debate between those i'm really digging both but if needed to say which i prefer would go with second. I feel it should be said he sure rolls nicely with longer hair i would say darker outfit too but that's probably because pallet that's used for levels.

Ps. I saw post that mentioned how his ring is the same as ones Charon is wearing in first game and if it's a hint at something i'm here for it!

● Zeus for this god specifically there is discourse about how his pose is less dynamic and oh boy if i don't agree with that so much. In first game you see him and his look makes you think yeah this is the king of gods while in second game man is just there with posture i take often because i'm useless gay that don't know what to do with my hands and feels like they took all this might and put it into chiseling his nipples & abs into his golden chestplate. Not to mention the detail of missing the iconic bolt! Don't think it needs to be said but 100% would pick Hades 1 design out of those options.

● Poseidon the King of the Sea another example in my humble opinion where they went with flattening that dynamic looks exchanging it for man that just standing there chilling which is good for him but where first screams cool uncle second one goes uncle that wants retirement. I really like how we can see the trident now tho and need to point out his outfit sure got more print on it. When it comes down to pointing out which one is the winner in my eyes it would be 2020 one.

● Aphrodite if she wasn't the one that got thrown into drama because people double standards and hypocrisy. Design from first game and the pose straight up makes you think of love, lust, seduction all the things that are associated with said goddess. As for Hades 2 version i have no clue why it feels like this considering it's actually the opposite because we can see armor on her legs now but she feels less covered for me, do i find it negative or in any way problematic? Not one bit let the woman show off all her assets all day long! Really love the adds of her weapon and shield makes you immerse in the store of oh fights are happening around these parts. From seduction to i stand here at the ready kinda vibe and i'm really digging it.

Ps. Another post i read was about fact that her war paint i will call it (not 100% sure if that is it or just line for the giggles) is reference to Ares and considering her myth i really like that touch!

● Hypnos was the first OG i saw and was like man not only catching up on his sleep but also got such glow up i absolutely adore the design. Not to say he looked bad in Hades 1 but there it was like okay nice to Hades 2 like Damnnn and his lil helpers that keeps him up! Love the fact that of all things they made him be tucked into his cape like burrito.

Ps. I really do hope by the end of the game we get to wake him up so he can try out that nectar that we all leave there waiting.

● Chaos so many things to say and at the same time silence says it all. Seen people focusing on fact some out there call them he or how it's a downgrade from previous but don't even elaborate why they think that because everyone has right to have their own preference but at least put it into words instead of going trash next..there was also notion how they resemble Meg and while i see where people get that idea from for sure before reading that my mind didn't went there at all. I think both designs really work with someone who is primordial originator and how time goes so can their form. I find it very fascinating that they put old skeleton with new one and adore galaxy under suit makes me think of Nyx right away and how they're connected. Can totally see how between those two gamers got major stance that left reminds them more of male and right of female beings but at the end of the it chaos is chaos. Gotta take chair routine from Meg while they at it! The face on the shoulder surely throws me in loop tho fits? Sure. Does it disturb me in micro scale? Yes. About frames and poses don't have much to say cause both caption the essence of i mind my business everything unrelevant until i say so.

Ps. I know it's about physical aspect but let me say Chaos roasting Mel about how her brother is amusing one out of two Hades spawns is living rent free in my brain.

[hollowed-theory-hall]

Hi, Im not sure if youve written anything about this before (I had a quick look but couldnt see anything), but I find Hermione's relationship with her parents kinda interesting. Obviously they're pretty chill with her being a witch — they go to diagon with her at least once and seem quite interested in that sort of thing, they're obviously very proud of her — but by about gof and ootf theyre completely absent from her life. Hermione doesnt seem to go home during that summer holiday and seems to spend the rest with the Weasleys which I find incredibly odd. Her parents were obviously not abusive, nor were they in any sort of danger until dh when Hermione goes on the run (and of course she oblivates them and moves them to Australia first). Voldemort doesnt even make any attacks until hbp because hes lying low. I just cant think why shes suddenly estranged from her parents to the point where they allow their only teenage daughter, who already spends majority of her time in Scotland, to spend her holidays with a family thats already financially struggling?? Surely no actual parent would do that. Of course it could be lazy writing by JK or the rising popularity of Hermione after directorial choices in the films which called for more page-time, but Id be very interested to hear your opinions on the topic because for the life of me I can't figure this out.

(sorry for the long ask)

Hi, no problem about the long ask.

I think Hermione's parents are probably one of the things JKR didn't think through, but I like looking at things like that froma an in universe prespective. And in universe the relationship between Hermione and her parents, while not abusive, has been estranged from day 0.

What I mean by it, is that I don't think Hermione was ever very close to her parents. We see how a muggleborn who is close to his parents acts with Colin Creevey:

“So I can prove I’ve met you,” said Colin Creevey eagerly, edging further forward. “I know all about you. Everyone’s told me. About how you survived when You-Know-Who tried to kill you and how he disappeared and everything and how you’ve still got a lightning scar on your forehead” (his eyes raked Harry’s hairline) “and a boy in my dormitory said if I develop the film in the right potion, the pictures’ll move.” Colin drew a great shuddering breath of excitement and said, “It’s amazing here, isn’t it? I never knew all the odd stuff I could do was magic till I got the letter from Hogwarts. My dad’s a milkman, he couldn’t believe it either. So I’m taking loads of pictures to send home to him. And it’d be really good if I had one of you” — he looked imploringly at Harry

(CoS)

He tries to keep his muggle parents up to date with his life in the wizarding world. He brought a camera explicitly for that purpose. Hermione, on the other hand, never really included her parents in her life. They try to be supportive, they go with her to Diagon, but I'm convinced they know very little of what's going on at Hogwarts with their daughter.

I mean, she probably tells them about her high grades and about Harry and Ron, but she probably never told them about Voldemort, or at least, not much. Or about the bigotry she has to deal with as a muggleborn. I'm also pretty sure she didn't tell them how dangerous Hogwarts is or that she got petrified in 2nd year. I mean, I don't know about you, but if my daughter told me everything that happened to Hermione, I would start asking about alternative magical education that isn't Hogwarts.

I think Hermione was always a lonely child, her parents were likely at work or conventions more often than with her and she is used to hiding things from them. Hermione 100% used to be bullied in her muggle primary school, you see it in how she acts, and I think she didn't tell her parents about that either. So Hermione and her parents were never close in my opinion.

And then, you take this girl who is used to hiding the less pleasant aspects of her life from her parents and send her to the wizarding world. And she's smart, she quickly realizes no one wants to hear about dentists and that she doesn't belong. So she shuts up, she stops bringing her parents up since everyone thinks surgeons are just maniacs who cut into people. So she reads up, she studies everything she can so she would belong, because she never found herself in the muggle world and she loves magic. She loves the wizarding world and chooses to be part of it, even at the price of cutting her parents out of her life.

In first year, Hermione goes back home for Christmas, but from year 2 and onwards she stays at Hogwarts becouse she doesn't want to miss out in that year's mystery, or time with Ron and Harry. She, like Harry, doesn't want to leave the wizarding world for a world they consider worse.

And the fact she does her best to spend more and more time in the wizarding world is an extension of that. It's not that she hates her parents, she loves them, but she loves them less than she loves the wizarding world.

I think, the moment in book 4 in which she took the chance to fix her teeth magically against what her dentist parents would think is right, is a moment that shows that clear choice. Mr. and Mrs. Granger clearly care about Hermione and want what's best for her, but Hermione thinks she is better than them because she is a witch. She treats her parents like children who don't know what's good for them. She knows because she's a witch, so she can send them away for their safety. They might think using magic on her teeth is dangerous, but they're muggles they don't know better. Even Hermione falls into this prevalent mindset among wizards that they know better than muggles.

The Creevy brothers wanted to keep both the wizarding world and their parents. Hermione chose the wizarding world. She figured that if she truly wanted to belong and be up to date with everything, months in the muggle world would make this assimilation harder, so she stayed in the wizarding world. And when the time comes to make a hard decision to Obliviate her parents and send them away, it is easier to rationalize. She hasn't been part of their life for so long anyway, they would hardly notice the difference, besides, she's the witch, she's the one in the know, not them.

It's quite sad, but it's a result of Hermione's decision to assimilate into the wizarding world as if she was always there which is, I think, influenced by the bigotry that is everywhere. I mean, even the Weasleys look down on muggles:

“Are they doctors?” he [Harry] asked Ron quietly. “Doctors?” said Ron, looking startled. “Those Muggle nutters that cut people up? Nah, they’re Healers.”

(OotP)

So, yeah, Hermione chose to be a witch, and to her, that means cutting her parents she was never too close to out of her life.

[pseudowho]

Random question, during any of your pregnancy’s were you ever insecure about you body, how you were acting, or any of your cravings?

Me and my fiancé were talking about plans for future kids and i’m to scared to ask anyone else. could you give me a small run through of things to expect?

Thank you so much!!

Hey! I'll answer this both as a woman who has done pregnancy and birth three times, and as an experienced midwife. I don't like the 'horror story' sharing that many women do around pregnancy; it muddies the waters, and is supremely anxiety-inducing for anyone who is pregnant while hearing it.

You need to know I could write, and have written, essays on this.

As a midwife: Pregnancy is this period of unique physiological change in your body and mind, that even when it is normal (i.e. normal symptoms, not a sign of an unwell pregnancy) can be profound and lifelong.

These normal symptoms, including but not limited to nausea and vomiting (commonly referred to as morning sickness, though present at any time of day), weight gain, swelling, congestion, mood changes, appetite changes, stretch marks, heartburn and hip/joint pain, can range from barely present/absent, to severe.

Even severe pregnancy symptoms aren't always considered abnormal unless they're making you unwell (i.e. unable to keep any food or water down).

These symptoms can be altered by many of your pre-existing conditions; your weight and general health, your lifestyle and eating habits, your exercise habits, simple dumb luck/genetics, family history, mental health and body image/dysmorphia, etc.

So in that respect, in a normal pregnancy, I have seen some women who are extremely insecure and struggling to cope with the changes to their body and mind, and some women who absolutely breeze through it like pregnancy hasn't even affected them. Nowhere on this spectrum does it ever surprise me.

So now I'll talk about the average first pregnancy. As I said...the experience varies wildly.

Early on in your pregnancy (up to about 12 weeks) often feels like you're in an utter no-man's land. You feel like healthcare professionals aren't wildly interested in you; they'll take your history and 'book' your pregnancy in from (now this is based on the UK) about 8 weeks pregnancy (please note, your 'weeks of pregnancy' aren't calculated from the moment you fall pregnant, it is calculated from the first day of your last period, so in a woman with a regular 28-30 day cycle, there usually feels like there's a 'disparity' of about 2 weeks in your dates-- there isn't, this is how we calculate it). You may have an early scan or two. Essentially, we wait to see if the pregnancy is continuing; lots of miscarriages happen in the first 8 weeks. About 1/3 of pregnancies will miscarry here, in fact.

Tiredness is real at this stage. You may feel like you want to sleep constantly. It's shit that at this stage you often feel the worst, but feel like you're also just being expected to 'get on with it'. Please ask for help. If your partner isn't an equal partner pre-pregnancy, best of luck to you. You may feel utterly useless sometimes days from exhaustion, and this is normal I'm afraid.

Mid pregnancy drags, but you're usually starting to feel a bit better. The top of your uterus doesn't even begin to rise out of your pelvic brim until about 16 weeks, and the lower part of the uterus only begins to expand and form (creating that 'pregnant' belly look) from about 28 weeks, so don't try to force a bump that simply isn't there. Lots of women are very keen to look pregnant. Just chill. It's okay if you dont. Take it easy.

You do not need to eat for two; your pregnancy uses your intake more effectively when you're pregnant. Do take pregnancy specific multivitamins though. They don't need to be expensive or fancy ones; normal store bought are generally just the same, without all the fancy packaging.

Later pregnancy (the third trimester, 28 weeks onwards), you will likely notice that tiredness creeping in again. This is where your baby is largely formed structurally, and is maturing and gaining size and weight. Please ignore any and all comments from people who look at you and announce that you will have a big/small baby. They're idiots and likely wrong. Laugh it off. Here is where you may start to notice things like heartburn, hip pain, mood changes coming back again. You're heavy, and it's harder to move, and your organs are moving out of the way to facilitate a baby. Cut yourself some slack if at all possible.

So...now to me and what I had.

As Haitch: (tw/cw: suicidal ideations) So it's now a running joke, that my body was so 'good' at pregnancy, so utterly flooded with hormones, that while I became this perfect machine for growing and birthing babies, pregnancy broke me.

I spent every waking minute of the first 16 weeks nauseous and exhausted, bone deep exhausted. I had all the usual symptoms hit hard and early. I suffered severe pelvic separation, agonising pain, and @mrhaitch had to help me up from an early stage.

Thankfully, he was exquisite pregnancy support. Full is based on him, after all.

I ended up on some pretty strong medication for my heartburn, as it was severe enough that my stomach acid was damaging my vocal chords.

Worst of all was my mental health. From 26-28 weeks, your progesterone levels boom. This is normal. But this is where we discovered that progesterone is a very bad hormone for me. I developed severe antenatal depression and anxiety, and antenatal psychosis. I was paranoid, delusional, fragile and had active suicidal ideations. I had plans on how I would end my life. This is all utterly unlike me.

With my first pregnancy, our son was born at 42 weeks after a fast, normal labour, but I don't know how I didn't end my own life towards the end of my pregnancy. With my second two, we were more on it, and my lovely colleagues induced my labours from 38 weeks, purely because my mental health was so bad.

I was watched like a hawk in pregnancy 3. We knew I would lose my mind...and sadly, I did. I was medicated but It did little to help. It was at that point (October/November 2024) that I began writing on Tumblr...and here I am.

So as I have said...lots of things you could expect.

To this day in my 13 year Midwifery career, I have seen fewer than 10 women whose mental health was affected as badly my pregnancy as mine was. So I wouldn't worry too much about that.

Phew. If you have any more specific questions, I would be happy to answer.

Love,

-- Haitch xxx

[everythingelvispresley]

"My worst memory, and the worst day of my life has to be the day Priscilla took Lisa Marie away from Graceland," says Schilling. "To this day, that image still haunts me..."

On October 9, 1973, after 5 years of marriage Elvis and Priscilla were divorced. It was Elvis who filed for the divorce, as token gesture to save Priscilla the embarrassment as she was the mother of his daughter, Lisa Marie, who only 4 years old at the time.

,"It was I very sad day for all of us," says Schilling. "I remember how Elvis just stood in Lisa's bedroom and watched in silence as Alberta (Graceland's cook) helped Priscilla pack Lisa's clothes and toys into several suitcases... Elvis said nothing, but I could see the pain in his eyes," recalls Schilling.

"Suddenly, he yelled out to me and Joe (Esposito) to help Priscilla put the baggage into the car. Elvis just couldn't bring himself to carry the bags out to the car, himself," whispers Schilling.

Unaware of the happening between her parents in her bedroom, Lisa Marie played happily with her nanny outside the grounds of Graceland.

In an aim to spare Lisa the sorry of their separation, Elvis and Priscilla had told her that she was going away on a vacation with her mother to Los Angeles, where she was going to attend school. "It broke my heart to see Elvis, a man who had everything, suddenly be lose the most important person in his life - his daughter."

"Lisa was more important than life itself to Elvis." Now she was being taken away from him," says Schilling.

Although, the court ruled Priscilla gets custody of Lisa Marie, Elvis believed his daughter would be far better off raised with small town of values in Memphis, just like he was, than in a big city like Los Angeles.

"Elvis just stood watching as we load up Priscilla's blue Mercedes.

Until that finally moment, Elvis was still composed, but when it was time to bid farewell to his daughter, Elvis broke down and cried as he swooped his beloved Lisa into his arms. Elvis held Lisa tight for a very long time. "Be a good girl, Button-head," whispered Elvis. (Button-head was Elvis' pet name for Lisa) "You come and visit often, you hear," said Elvis trying to hold back the tears. Then out of sheer desperation Elvis insisted, "Get mummy to teach you how to use the phone, so you can call me everyday, okay."

As Schilling recalls, "Lisa Marie, was always a very perceptive child. She realised this was not the usual way her daddy said goodbye. Normally, Elvis would says, 'Button-head I'm off to work. What do you want daddy to bring you back, this time?'"

"This day was strange, and Lisa knew it. She looked into her daddy's eyes and asked him, 'Are you crying, daddy?"

At the point, Elvis flashed Priscilla a look that could kill, then delivered Lisa into her mother's awaiting arms, turned on his heels, walked back into the house, without looking back.

"I'd seen that look before in Elvis eyes," says Schilling. "It a look that still sends a chill went down my spine, when I think of it... It's was a look of pain, anger, desperation and hurt."

"For the rest of that day, till about 4 am that night, Elvis closed himself up in his bedroom. He wouldn't eat or take our calls."

"We got very worried. We thought maybe he had knocked myself out with a whole lot of sleeping pills."

"From time to time, Joe and I would sneak up to his bedroom and listen at the door. Once I heard him cursing. Another times I heard him screaming. But mostly we heard Elvis just sobbing."

Finally, Schilling admitted, "I now know, that day was the beginning of the end for the Elvis I had met." - Jerry Schilling ( The Day Elvis Cried)

Credit All things Elvis Facebook Group for content

💔💔💔

[jmdbjk]

Why I don't expect promotion for Muse to be similar to RPWP or Golden...

...or any other release before that.

Smeraldo Garden Marching Band is doing well for not having it's artist available. In fact it is outstanding. There were many other prominent artists who released music on the same day and are currently hitting up the interview circuit and other promotional activities. Our boy debuts at #4 on Global Spotify and he's somewhere on a military base.

See the post here.

That is pretty outstanding for not having the artist available to promote. Name another artist in which this has happened.

Perhaps a dead one... let's just not go there.

"But the Youtube views are low..."

I think since the popularity of Tiktok, the use of YouTube and therefore its influence has diminished somewhat. That doesn't mean there shouldn't be more views. We all know the challenges we have with YouTube. We just have to do the best we can with using YouTube.

Help boost views. Watch the MV here.

"But Right Place Wrong Person was heavily promoted..."

Namjoon was all over his own IG often, almost every day for a while, along with the staff he appointed to post on the @rpwprpwprpwp Instagram account. Perhaps this created a perception that RPWP had some heavy promotion when he was doing all that himself and it was keeping it in front of us so consistently.

The BigHit instagram chat channel is being used for Muse and has been very engaging. It is convenient for Jimin in case he is able and does repost or create a story with any of that content.

I've seen a lot of buzz in the media on both sides of the Pacific regarding SGMB and Muse. That means BigHit sent out press kits. I saw at least one radio group posting they had the song and it was ready to include in their rotations. We'll see if they actually follow through. But that means BigHit sent it to radio.

"Jimin and the members need to post about it..."

It is more of a challenge for Jimin and Jungkook to be online because of the location of their base. If it is in the mountains as was mentioned earlier this year, their internet connection may not be as reliable or strong enough to allow much use. Soldiers may also be restricted as to if they can even use it if the base itself needs it for military operations or if its encrypted for security or whatever myriad of reasons why they can't access it.

If they had reliable internet service where they are, we'd be seeing JK on TikTok more often. But... perhaps TikTok is one of those apps that they are discouraged from using as it is China-based and why JK created the Instagram account for Bam.

Perhaps they are free to do what they want only when OFF base and out of the area during their days off. We don't know what their restrictions are.

People just have to come down to earth and think. Jimin is in the military. I'm most certain that Jimin is being Jimin and focused on his duties. He is wearing fatigues and a helmet and going out everyday doing drills and training including firing ammunition out of a big ass piece of warfare equipment. He is listening to reports from his commanders about what is going on regarding North Korea and what his base will be expected to do if anything should escalate. He should be focused on his duties not focused on what is happening out here.

It is Saturday. Not sure what their alert status might be on a weekend. But we have to be cognizant that JM and JK are the closest to the DMZ of any of the members and will be activated first should anything occur.

I am constantly thinking about how every time we hear of nonsense from NK that JM and JK have to hear it every day too and any contingency they will be ready for in case anythng happens.

NK fired missiles the other day. Yesterday maybe? Some sort of rocket that can launch multiple missiles in one shot. It's chilling. Now imagine you are mere miles from the border and must react with your own weapons of mass destruction should anything become more aggressive.

Jimin worked and created, then he left it for us while he is doing his duty. I'm never going to expect him to do anything else until he is discharged. Unless he is able and wants to. Otherwise I want him doing what he feels he needs to do in order to get through this for himself and Jungkook.

I am very, very happy Namjoon was able to and wanted to participate in his own album's release as much as he was able. But some people have the same expectation that Jimin should too.

I'm never going to expect it from Jimin.

"The company is not doing enough..."

Surely everyone knows this is not a big long vacation for them. It may be a break from their careers and their real personal lives but its not a vacation by any means.

They keep saying its not easy. Perhaps they mean its not easy sitting in a military base carrying out a routine day in day out.

Or perhaps they say its not easy because they are on constant alert. They cannot give any details because their locations and their activities are classified information. Surely, surely, people can realize that right?

See? My brain is always thinking I just don't say a lot of what it comes up with. Because it serves no purpose to talk about it except to create worry. Just like people screaming at the company, it creates stress and negativity.

There is only so much public facing promoting the company can achieve especially when its been planned with the artist's involvement. Since I don't know (and neither does anyone else) what the entire promotion plan is, how can anyone speak on the promotion plan? Just because another member's release was handled a certain way does that mean it should be done the same for all? Not necessarily.

Stationhead listening party schedule:

This is an ad I just saw from BigHit.

Yes, this is an ad and not a repost, I've seen it twice already and it is not on the @BTS_bighit accounts feed:

These are posts promoting SGMB on streaming platforms:

Of course, if you use any playlists on streaming platforms, check the songs on the list and turn off/delete the ones you don't want to stream. Or create your own playlists.

The people printing their own posters, putting them up in public and asking for them to be displayed is WONDERFUL! THAT is the energy Army are known for!

Also the UK issue with the random inclusion making it disqualified. A fix may or may not be in the works. Constant screaming to the company won't make it happen faster or at all if it can't be done logistically. All screaming does is make everyone feel bad, including Jimin if he sees it.

@OfficialCharts is UK based and posted about Jimin and SGMB:

But since people began screaming since day one, every time another step in the promotion process occurs, screamers will take credit for it and vehemently scream it only happened because they were screaming when the reality is, no one knows whats on the promotion schedule.

Those of you telling people not to buy the album now but to wait and buy it when it releases? THAT IS USEFUL AND PRODUCTIVE INFORMATION!

We, as Army, know how, what and when to buy in order to impact the charts. I know you didn't forget any of that. So stop screaming and do something productive like tell people how to work around this apparent obstacle until it is fixed or in case it never gets fixed.

The screaming at BigHit to do their job is not productive or useful at all in helping Jimin at this point. It only displays negativity and lowers morale for those who don't know what to do.

We are a month away from the album's release for god's sakes, the pre-promotions are paced to keep interest.

They can't all be thrown out all at one time.

Whatever comes out as pre-promotions will be things that were planned in advance and not knee jerk reactions to the screamers.

"If we don't say anything, things will never change for Jimin."

That is your perception. Jimin is very much in control of his own life and career. He can change anything he wants to. Feel free to scream about it, I know its different strokes for different folks. But constantly screaming and trending it surrounds Jimin's activities with stress and negativity. I know you know how to communicate your concerns to the company discreetly. And we know they see our communications because they ask us for help to identify those who are carrying out slanderous and illegal activities against our guys.

If you want to help, communicate to the rest of the fandom the steps they can take to actually help increase streams, views and sales.

Even if the company plasters posters everywhere, WE, THE FANS, are still the ones who do the streaming, buying, viewing and supporting. Its in our hands now. We know what to do!

After all is said and done, I trust Jimin. He's in control of his life.

And he has Jungkook with him. That's the smartest fucking thing ever.

Please go stream it now on your preferred streaming platform.

Please go share some of the various positive news media stories out there on your socials.

[silly-writes]

Heya! I just came across your content and I must let you know that the way you write the characters is very accurate and pleasing to read!! <333 Could you please write romantic headcanons for Gwen, Tyler, Harold and Cody with reader (fem or gn Idc) that is the goofy sweetheart kind? Like super fan of physical affection, sweet and super understanding and respectful of boundaries and who loves to make them smile and laugh (and who herself/themselves is always laughing and smiling).

Contestants with a silly sweetheart reader!

Omg thank you so much! I really try hard on my characterization so it makes me really happy to hear you say that :] and thank you so much for this request! I love this concept very much! Enjoy!

Gwen

Gwen probably takes a bit of warming up to the idea of someone who is just so unapologetically themselves and respectful. She almost just doesn't trust it.

It takes her a while to warm up to the physically affectionate part, but you're super intune with other people's emotions so you know better than to overstep.

She's so in awe of how you find every single one of her jokes funny, you laugh at things she didn't even think were all that funny.

You live to make her genuinely laugh, it doesn't happen that often, and since she's pretty reserved she stifles her laughter a lot.

You always tell her that it might not be so bad around you.

"You know it might be nice to hear you laugh for a change," you say in a lightly teasing manner, after you had just died of laughter over a joke she told.

"No way, I'm mysterious and quiet, remember?" She says, jokingly.

You chuckle a little more "don't tell me, you're afraid of getting smile lines like Mclane?"

She always loved to make fun of Chris with you, and she's struggling to breathe after you continue to lightly razz him.

"You don't think I'm being too nasty do you?" You asked softly after saying something that was just a little rude, even if it was Chris.

She snorts "You? I don't think you're capable of being too nasty. Or nasty at all for that matter."

The two of you pause for a moment giggling softly, as she elbows your side "maybe I am rubbing off on you just a little bit though."

Eventually she would warm up to the physical affection for sure, you just feel so safe to be around for her it's kind of hard not too.

Tyler

Tyler absolutely loves it

He loves your sunny and giggly disposition so much it makes him so happy to be around you always.

He loves physical affection too, and he loves even more than he doesn't have to be the one to start it.

I think he's probably used to being in relationships where he has to play the super manly role and do all the heavy lifting for a lot of the stuff, being the jock that he is.

But let's face it our boy is a big silly bimbo he just wants to chill and let you take the lead.

So he loves when you are super cuddly, and that you always ask to see what he likes, and that he can just be himself.

He'll laugh at every single one of your jokes, even if he doesn't get it at all.

"One sec babe, I gotta go to the bathroom," he said one day standing up from the couch

"Okay, don't fall in," You chuckle.

He laughed for a little bit until saying "I don't get it, fall into what?"

you just smile at him "don't worry about it, go do your business."

He smiles and jogs down the hall.

Harold

Harold likes to be taken seriously, surprisingly.

It's just that he's used to generally being treated like a joke, so he's really sensitive to being laughed at, something you pick up on right way.

You always make a note to make sure he really is making a joke before you laugh at anything he says, since sometimes with his past experiences it can come off (at least to him) as you tease him.

But he loves that you're always trying to make him laugh, with jokes that aren't about him, and aren't poking fun at him or his interests.

It takes him a little bit to get used to not being the butt of the joke with you, but after a while he gets it and feels much more comfortable with you.

He absolutely loves how physically affectionate you are, he is too, so it works out perfectly!

He loves holding hands with you, sometimes you'll take his hand in yours while he's talking.

He was rambling one day when you soundlessly slid your hand in his.

"What?" You chuckled softly "I was just getting invested."

"Really? You actually think this is interesting?"

You laughed a little bit and shrugged "well, duh."

He smiled at you before continuing his rant.

Cody

When I say this boy is obsessed.

He himself is always putting on his "cool boy" persona, so he very much appreciated getting to turn that side of him off when around you.

He laughs at every single one of your jokes, he thinks you're the funniest person around!

"I'm serious, you should do stand up or something," he suggests after absolutely crying laughing over a joke you told.

Despite having a very muted interest in that you smile at him "Really? You think so?"

"I do!" he really just thinks the world of you.

He likes being silly with you too, just leaning against each other, riffing off one another.

He likes that you're physically affectionate too, god please hold this boy.

He likes it best when you hold your arm around him when you walk, or when you two are talking slowly start to cuddle up against him.

You'll pretty much never hear him complain about it!

[its-all-stardust]

Head Above Water

Matt Murcock/GN!Reader

3.9k

Summary: A month after Thanos turns half of all life to dust with the snap of his fingers, you find a man sitting on a bench in the rain, alone.

Notes: This is my first fic here, and to be honest, I'm testing the waters a little bit with it lol. I hope to write more fics for Matt and other characters in the future! My ask box is open and feedback is appreciated ❤️

Thunder claps in the distance, and you know the rain is only going to get heavier. Part of you doesn’t mind, despite the already-soaked legs of your jeans. Your small umbrella barely covers your shoulders, the occasional drip hitting you when you let it tilt the wrong way in your daze. You meant to get a new one ages ago, especially when the fabric started lifting away from the metal. But you never got around to it.

And now, you don’t care.

It’s been a month since the world ended. A month since you lost your sister.

A month since half the world—or half the universe, if what the news report you barely listened to is true—turned to dust.

And fuck, do you hope Lizzie turned to dust. Hope that she didn’t go down with the plane as it crashed in the middle of some town, engulfing everything in a fiery blaze.

You hope she turned to dust. You think about her last moments often.

Would she have been terrified if she noticed her limbs fading away before she ceased to exist? Or would she have been confused? Was she awake when it happened, or was she asleep?

Did she cry when the plane started to plummet?

Dust or fire, either way, she’s gone.

The rain feels nice, in a way. A chilling reminder that the world stopped and still stops. The streets are practically empty with so many people gone and the natural dislike of being caught out in a storm.

But it never feels like enough.

The world stopped, but it didn’t end.

Someone walks by on the other side of the street.

A month.

It’s only been a month, and you and everyone else are expected to live as if the worst tragedy in history hadn’t just happened.

You can’t go back to work. You were supposed to. But your days are consumed by grief after losing the only person you loved. How can you go back, pretend that it never happened, that you’re fine?

You’re not fine.

You don’t think you’ll ever be fine.

You don’t have a job anymore.

Your foot catches on something, sending you stumbling and pulling you out of your dark reverie. Rain spills down your back as your umbrella tilts forward. You don’t know what you tripped over, nor do you care very much. You adjust your umbrella and try to take another step forward, but stop when you send a cane clattering down the sidewalk.

The sight of it makes you pause, confused. Your state of mind slows any thoughts that aren’t of Lizzie. It takes a moment to realize you’ve stopped next to a bench. 

A bench with a man sitting on it.

“I’m sorry,” you quickly say. The cane must belong to him. 

You’re still not used to how empty the streets of New York City feel and have grown used to the lack of people running about, no longer needing to carefully avoid hitting others or having someone slam into you with abandon. You haven’t needed to avoid being in someone’s way for what feels like an eternity.

It’s been a month.

Shaking away the cloud of thought, you reach down, pick up the cane, and turn to the man, who hasn’t said a word since you ripped it away from him.

Holding it out, you wait for the man to take it, but he doesn’t move. Then you notice his dark glasses and what type of cane you’re holding.

The man is blind.

“Uh…” you start, stumbling over what to say. “Here’s your cane. Sorry.”

Like a statue coming to life, the man finally moves. Reaching for his cane, you set it in his hand.

“Thank you,” he says quietly, settling back into the bench. 

You should leave. You’ve done your due diligence and given the man back his cane, but your feet don’t want to move.

The man is soaking wet, dressed in a t-shirt and sweatpants. He had no jacket or umbrella of his own. His hair is plastered to his head, and raindrops collect on the lenses of his glasses briefly before falling. He looks like a mess. You’re not one to judge because you looked much the same over the past month. 

Looking past him, you see the church.

“You uh…need help getting inside? It’s a little wet out here,” you finish awkwardly. You have no idea if he even believes in God enough to want to go inside, if he just came from it, or if this is just the first bench he found. Whichever it is, you don’t like the idea of him sitting out in the rain with not even a jacket to keep the rain off, especially not with a storm coming.

More thunder nearly drowns out the man’s answer: a short, simple “No.”

But still, you stand there in front of him, watching water drip down through his dark hair and land on his cheek.

“Here,” you say suddenly, mind made up. “Take this.”

The man looks confused, the first expression you’ve seen on his face. But he doesn’t say anything, just holds out his free hand, where you place the handle of your umbrella.

“What’s this?” he finally asks.

“An umbrella,” you say and start to turn away.

“Don’t you need it?” the man calls after you.

You pause and turn back. “Not anymore.”

Despite his frown, the man goes quiet and settles the umbrella against his shoulder, the rain now no longer able to reach his face. Water still drips down his hair as you turn to leave, walking a little faster to get back to your apartment before you end up like the man outside the church.

It’s still raining the next day, but it does nothing to stop you from going on your daily depression walk.

You couldn’t stay curled up on the floor of your apartment any longer, so you’ve taken to spending the day wandering the city streets, lost in thought, trying to wear yourself out so you can sleep at night.

You’re berating yourself today, one of the iterations of thoughts you cycle through these days.

How can you walk miles throughout the city for days on end but can’t make yourself go to work? You lost your job, and the landlord—the new landlord, after the old one turned to dust, is bound to catch on that your rent payment is late. You don’t think you can get evicted during a state of emergency, but you wouldn’t bet on it.

The world ended. Your world ended. You shouldn’t be expected to have picked up the pieces and moved on like everyone else.

The world never stopped turning, though. Part of you knows you can’t keep doing this forever—avoiding life and praying everything goes back to normal. It won’t, not with Lizzie dead. But if you don’t, you’re sure you’ll find some way to join your sister in whatever afterlife she ended up in.

Your foot knocks against something, and you stop. You wandered too close to a bench where someone sits, making you walk right into a cane extended into your path.

Not thinking much of it, you’re about to step around it when you recognize the man on the bench. You’re at the church again, and the same man as yesterday sits outside. Without the umbrella you gave him.

You’re afraid he’s been here since yesterday without moving, but you see that the t-shirt and sweats he’s wearing today are black as opposed to the gray he had on when you first saw him.

You can’t help but be a little annoyed that the man appears to have lost your umbrella. But as you stare at him, at the blank expression on his face, and the defeated slump of his shoulders, it reminds you of yourself. If you didn’t despise wearing soaking wet clothes, you’d likely be without an umbrella, too.

You want to help, but you’re not particularly inclined to give him another umbrella for him to lose, not since you just bought this one on the way home yesterday.

So you sigh and, unsure if the man even knows you’re there, sit next to him on his right side, immediately soaking the seat of your pants on the wet bench. Shifting your umbrella to cover both you and the man, you sit back and wait.

Silence surrounds you for long enough to congratulate yourself on buying a larger umbrella. Your right side, and presumably the man’s left, is being hit by the rain, but it’s doing a decent job of covering two people not pressed close together.

“What…are you doing?” the man finally asks, either just noticing your presence or deciding to acknowledge it. His voice cracks, making you wonder when he last spoke and how long he’s been in the rain.

“Waiting for the rain to stop,” you tell him as if it were obvious. You adjust your grip on the handle to rest it against your arm. You could be here for a while and want to be as comfortable as possible.

“...why?”

“You lost my umbrella,” you say, looking at him. “At least, I assume you did since you don’t have it, and I don’t want you to get wet. Well, any wetter than you already are.” You finish awkwardly.

A look of realization comes over the man’s face. He recognizes you now.

“I…forgot it,” he says simply, and you wonder if that’s true. Maybe he wandered out into the city without it on purpose, hoping the rain would either cleanse him or punish him.

You know the feeling well.

Silence descends again. So far, the rain hasn’t shown any signs of stopping, nor has the man seemed uncomfortable with your presence.

Then he shivers. Maybe you’ll bring him a jacket tomorrow if he’s still here. If you find one his size, which you can only guess at.

Next, the man’s hands start fidgeting with his cane, the most movement you’ve seen from him during your brief interactions.

“Are you okay?” you ask softly.

The man scoffs, a bitter smile on his face. “No.”

His voice shakes, and you watch as he swallows and clenches his jaw. You’re familiar with the reaction. You’ve done it a lot over the past month when you want to avoid crying in front of others.

You look away from his face and down to his hands. He’s clutching his cane in a white-knuckle grip with both hands, and it’s a wonder he doesn’t snap the thing in two.

Something comes over you then, and you don’t know if you should do it or if it’s even a good idea. But you give in to temptation, sitting up to reach over with your right hand and place it on the man’s clenched fists.

“Neither am I,” you say softly, pressure starting to build in the back of your throat.

The man freezes, and you’re afraid you’ve overstepped, crossed a line with this stranger that you had no business crossing.

You’re about to pull away when he shifts, one of his hands turning to grasp yours, clutching it like a lifeline.

Neither of you speaks, both trying to breathe through the wave of emotion welling up inside you.

Connecting like this with someone is…nice. Practically everyone around you lost someone because of the attack, but this is the first time you don’t feel alone in your grief.

You don’t know how long you sit like that, but you’re disappointed when you notice the rain finally stopped. Letting go of the man’s hand, you move your umbrella off to the side and close it.

You’re unsure where to go from here, what the next step is now that you’ve held hands with and found comfort in a stranger.

Glancing over at the man, you see his hand is still open as if waiting for you to take it again. You hesitate briefly before giving him your name.

It’s almost as if he comes alive then, taking a deep breath like it’s his first taste of air. He shifts, turning to face you.

“I’m Matt,” he says.

“Matt,” you repeat, a small smile on your lips. “It’s nice to meet you.”

Matt kept sitting on the bench outside Clinton Church. He’d been doing it since the day everyone died. First Karen and Foggy turned to dust in front of him. Then, when his head cleared enough, he went to the orphanage to look for Maggie.

She was gone, too.

And so he sits outside the church, going back to his apartment when he needs to. But he always returns. Matt doesn’t go inside, doesn’t pray. He’s just numb and doesn’t have anywhere else to go.

Then, one day, you appeared and gave him an umbrella.

And you kept coming back.

A week in, though the two of you barely spoke, Matt asked why you did. You tensed and hesitated long enough that Matt was about to try to take the question back when you quietly admitted, “I like sitting with you.”

He froze, not knowing how to react. He didn’t know what he was expecting, but the thought that you enjoyed his silent company never occurred to him. It was an odd thing for Matt to hear.

The fallout with his friends was only just recovering after his disappearing act. He had just learned to truly let the people who cared about him in. And with everyone suddenly gone, the idea that a stranger wanted to be around Matt was shocking.

Uncomfortable with the feeling welling up in his chest, Matt changed the topic.

“Do you always walk this way?” He’s mostly out of it while losing himself outside the church, but even so, he didn’t remember someone walking by every day at the same time like clockwork.

“I only just started this way,” you explained with a shrug. “Needed to change up my route.”

You went silent, and Matt could feel the melancholy pouring out of you.

He didn’t ask why. He could guess well enough why you’d be sad about changing a familiar walking route or why you never seemed to be going anywhere in particular. Instead, he stayed silent, thinking about how he liked sitting with you, too, and how warmth still radiated on his skin from when you held his hand.

As the days went on, you and Matt slowly started talking more, carefully avoiding mentions of friends or family. You started sitting with him for longer, and Matt began to expect you at 2:14 every day and looked forward to your warmth at his side.

But it’s 2:22, and you’re not here. Matt listens for your heartbeat, the sound of your footsteps on the concrete, but there’s no trace of you. He fidgets with his phone, having it repeat the time as if it’ll go back or make you appear. Ever since that first day, you were never late, and something in his chest—which he refuses to believe is his heart—constricts at the thought that something happened to you.

He wants to believe that you simply changed your route again. That maybe you were tired of him, didn’t want to be around him, and just didn’t know how to tell him. But Matt remembers how quiet you were yesterday. How your silence reminded him not of the unfamiliarity of a stranger but of a sadness barely held in check. Your breath hitched, and you let out a small gasp before cutting your visit short and leaving with a strained smile pulling at the corners of your mouth and a promise to see him tomorrow.

But you’re not here.

Matt’s conflicted. Should he try to find you? Does he have any right to? What would you think of him if he did? Should he stay and wait, see if you show up late? Wait until tomorrow before truly worrying?

Something is wrong.

The thought won’t leave him. What started as a scratch has turned into claws digging into his gut, trying to pull him forward toward—

Where would he even look for you?

Matt stops a few feet away from the bench. He hadn’t realized he had even started moving.

Where would he look for you? He doesn’t know where you live or the route you take. Finding you would be nearly impossible.

Except he hears the faintest trace of your voice. He’s familiar with the cadence, matching perfectly with the one in his memory.

Matt follows without a thought, crossing into the street and forcing someone to slam on their breaks to avoid hitting him with their car. He tries not to run, instead staying at a fast-paced walk. You don’t sound like you’re hurt. In fact, you’re…humming?

Matt forces himself to stop. The tune sounds familiar, but in his panic, he can’t quite place it before you stop.

Maybe…maybe you are fine, and you just… didn’t want to see him anymore, unable to find the same comfort in him that he found in you. His stomach sours at the thought, his face twisted at the small pain in his chest.

And then he hears something else.

“I miss you.”

Your voice is so quiet, and Matt is so far away he almost misses it. The pain in his chest eases, but now he’s less sure about what to do.

You’re clearly unharmed, but Matt remembers what you said to each other that second day.

Neither of you are okay.

And you wouldn’t have kept coming back for days if you hadn’t found some sort of stability, some familiarity in him.

Matt keeps walking. You’ve stopped talking, but he has a decent idea where you are. He doesn’t think you moved, either. If you do, Matt’s sure he’ll be able to follow you easily, especially now that he’s caught your heartbeat.

Within minutes, he finds you sitting on some other bench, hunched forward, holding something in your hands. There’s saline in the air around you. You’ve been crying. There aren’t any tears on your cheeks now, but he can tell your eyelids are swollen from earlier.

Matt stands there, taking you in, unsure if he should approach or walk by and hope you’ll say something. He licks his lips and starts forward, decided. When he gets close enough to the bench, Matt taps the end with his cane before sliding it along the ground to hit your foot.

Startled, you jerk your feet back as he says, “Sorry, is this seat taken?”

“Matt?” you ask, confused when you see him standing next to you. “You…left your bench.”

“I…did.” He was in such a rush to find you that he hadn’t considered that you would find it strange for him to be somewhere else.

“Why?”

Matt flounders for a moment, unable to tell you the truth, before repeating something you said to him. “I needed to change my bench.”

You nod in understanding, believing he could no longer sit somewhere that held so many memories—the reason you had to change your route.

You slide down the bench. “Sit.”

The usual silence falls between you as Matt takes the spot next to you, but he isn’t comfortable in it this time. You’re staring at the thing in your hands and chewing your lip. Matt shifts in his seat, unable to maintain his usual stillness. He doesn’t know where to go from here. He didn’t come up with a plan.

“Do you like this place?” you ask suddenly.

“The…city?” Now it’s Matt’s turn to be confused.

You laugh lightly. “The bakery.” You tilt your head back to gesture. “Behind us,” you say when you remember he can’t see.

Matt has been so focused on you that he blocked everything else out. Now, as he takes in the space around him, the scent of all sorts of baked goods wafting over him from the building only feet away. He doesn’t even need his heightened sense for it. It’s a bit of a wonder, he thinks, that it’s still open.

“I’ve never actually been here,” he admits. “Have you?” As soon as he says it, he realizes that the thing in your hands is a cupcake and that you’ve just come from the bakery yourself.

“Yeah,” you say softly, focusing intently on the desert. “It’s my sister’s favorite place. Was her favorite.”

With those words, you start crying. For the first time, you cross the unspoken line between you to not talk about whoever you lost. You both avoided the topic not to create a barrier or to keep from knowing too much about each other but because it was too hard. Your tears are evidence. But even still, you told him.

Matt is shocked but won’t stop you if you are ready to take that step.

“What’s her name?” he asks gently, careful not to pry too deeply. When your breath hitches, he reaches out, fingers brushing your forearm.

“Elizabeth. Lizzie. She was my best friend.” Raising a hand, you wipe your face. “It’s her birthday.”

Matt lets out a breath, practically feeling your pain. No wonder you’re so upset, why you left yesterday.

“Here,” you say suddenly before Matt can speak. “It’s a cupcake.”

“Isn’t it for her? Shouldn’t you eat it?” he asks, yet reaches for it anyway. You wince as you set the cupcake in his hand.

“I actually hate red velvet. It was always her favorite flavor. Uh…I heard it’s good, though,” you awkwardly assure, making Matt let out a soft chuckle.

“We’ll find out.” Matt starts peeling the wrapper off but doesn’t take a bite. Instead, he sits there, wondering if he should share with you what he lost. If he even can.

But he wants to try.

“When I was a kid,” he starts slowly, finding the words and prying them out from that place in his heart where he locked them away.

“I lost my dad and grew up in the orphanage just behind the church we sit at.”

You stay silent, letting Matt speak, giving him your rapt attention. It seems you’re just as shocked that he’s sharing with you.

“I didn’t really have anyone growing up. And then I met Foggy while I was in college. And Karen a couple of years ago. And then, a few months ago, I…found my mother in that very church. Maggie.” A fond smile finds its way onto Matt’s face. He hasn’t said any of their names in so long. It feels good.

But it quickly falls.

“They’re gone now,” he finishes. He doesn’t need to explain how.

You reach out, taking Matt’s free hand in your own and intertwining your fingers. He feels the warmth radiating from you, driving away the permanent chill in his bones.

“I don’t think I’ll ever stop missing her,” you say.

“I know I won’t stop wishing they were still here.” Matt feels tears starting to well up in his eyes. But his hands are full, and he can’t wipe away the tear that slips down his cheek.

“Do you want to be friends, Matt?” you ask, a spark of hope filling you, making a small smile appear on your face.

The two of you weren’t yet friends, despite how much time you spent together on the bench. You never shared enough, never talked enough for it to happen.

Matt nods and squeezes your hand.

“I’d like that.”

And unbeknownst to the other, you both think that now that you’ve met, you’ll be able to get through the rest of this life together and, perhaps, be happy.

[littlegaybean1]

Another Life is actually driving me insane.

It's been FOUR DAYS since I watched it and every time I think about it (so like, every half an hour) I think of more things that make it such an incredible episode!!!

Firstly it's Buck in a coma. Obviously I'm going to love it. He's almost dead! He was dead, for three minutes and seventeen seconds at least. Therefore, naturally, this episode automatically became one of my favourites.

Then there's the tiny morsels of Buddie content. It's not prevalent here, which I actually like because it focuses on another relationship that I've also been waiting for for so long. However, in his approximately two minutes of screen time, Eddie does manage to give me just enough content for my ship obsessed mind to work with. I mean, come on. Responding with "Do more!" to "we'll do our best" is absolutely going to make me go slightly feral. He has about four lines and that's one of them. It could easily have been any of them, especially Bobby considering where the episode goes, but it was Eddie. No notes, chef's kiss.

Also the section with Christopher? MY HEART. He's already lost so much for someone so young, and Buck is basically family at this point. I'm also reminded of some parallels between Buck and Chris. They are very similar, but you don't really see it all that often. But if you compare young Buck to Christopher, you start to see quite a few connections. They're both unfailingly positive, but Buck's is more of a façade. They also have matching abandonment issues! In an earlier episode that I cannot recall the name of, Chris starts having nightmares and talks about how everyone leaves. Then, in this episode, Christopher is desperate to talk to Buck, to the point where they (probably illegally) sneak him into the room. And the thing that he is so desperate to say is "You have to come back". HELLO!? Did any of the writers ONCE consider that I am entitled to MONETARY COMPENSATION for all the EMOTIONAL PAIN they caused me. Ow!

I love mental construct Chimney and Hen. They're so chill with it, just like "I guess this is happening" and get on with it. They just accepted it, which honestly I think is somewhat accurate. They're definitely the most relaxed characters (with near death experiences of their loved ones notwithstanding).

Mental construct Bobby is the funniest thing, whilst also being somewhat emotionally devastating. He's off the rails. He's dead. He's a ghost. He's giving the deepest life advice ever. Buck's mind is honestly so weird and I love him for it.

Then there's the bit I hated (it was really clever and so good). Doug.

Oh my god. The reaction I had to seeing that evil creature. Honestly well done to the writers and the actor for making me immediately hate him so much after not seeing him for like four seasons. It was actually horrifying, the implications that if Daniel had lived, if their family had stayed together, Maddie would have had nowhere to run to. It's almost bittersweet, knowing that in another life the Buckley parents were caring and attentive, but with it came something so awful. I hope Doug Kendall is rotting in hell <3

And here's something I only noticed about a day after watching: the biggest negative impacts were on the people that Buck loves the most. Because this was all in his mind, designed to trap him there. Something that has been established is that Buck is, as I think Bobby(?) said, "the guy who wants to fix things". Buck could never be content somewhere that he was idle. In this life he isn't a firefighter, so he needs problems to occupy him. Therefore, the four people that he loves most are the ones that have the biggest problems.

First - Maddie.

Buck and Maddie's relationship is shown throughout the seasons, especially in Buck Begins and the build up to that. They have always been incredibly close, because they didn't have anyone else to rely on. So in the tempting, coma world, Maddie is still with Doug. She never escaped from her abusive marriage, and in this one she even has a child to add to the situation. Buck's first instinct as to what to do to get out of here is to find something to fix. The first thing he thinks of is Maddie and Doug.

Second - Eddie and Christopher.

Even though neither of them have actually said it yet (which is criminal) Buck and Eddie are very obviously best friends. Their relationship is incredibly strong, as is Buck's relationship with Christopher. He's almost like Buck's own child, or at least a nephew. I think most people can also see romantic chemistry between Buck and Eddie. Therefore, it makes a lot of sense to have something go terribly wrong in the coma world. A large part of Eddie's character is his love for Christopher, and how he's trying so hard to be the best father he can be whilst balancing his dangerous job and the problems that he inherited from his parents and his broken marriage. So in this mental world, they have been separated. Buck needs to fix Eddie and Christopher, because Eddie cannot be the Eddie that Buck loves without Chris, and Christopher cannot be the kid Buck loves without his father.

Third - Bobby.

Oh my gosh. Even though I knew that it was only in Buck's mind, it still hurt so much. Bobby died without Buck there. He died!!! Without Buck there to take care of, annoy him and generally love him and be loved by him, Bobby never built the bonds he did with the 118. You can see right from the start the very paternal relationship that Bobby has with Buck, which this episode only confirms. I wouldn't say that Buck lost his parents, because you can't really lose what you never had. He never had parents (I am ignoring their redemption arc because I disagree with it. Sue me.). Bobby lost his children, but he never stopped being a father. He became someone's father again with May and Harry, but before that he became Buck's father. It makes so much sense for him to die. Because in the coma world, Buck has parents. Parents who have always loved and cared for him. So in this reality, Buck would never have needed another father. Buck can still remember his relationship with Bobby, and would never be able to replicate it in the coma world. It would be a push factor, something taunting him - there's a man out there, whom you love like a parent, who never even knew you. So Bobby dies. He's nothing but a ghost, nothing physical that can drive Buck out of this paradise reality.

Philip and Margaret Buckley. WHEN I CATCH YOU PHILIP AND MARGARET BUCKLEY.

Buck considered staying. He considered staying in the coma world, knowing that he would die. He stayed for the chance of having loving parents. All Buck ever wanted was to be part of a family that loved him. In 'reality', the 118 became this family, because his biological family was too broken to count as such. But in the coma, it isn't. His parents are loving and free with their affection, he doesn't have to nearly get himself killed for it. He has the older brother that he never knew, and still has the strong bond with his sister.

And then, we finally got it. There are two things that I have been waiting so long for. One has, unfortunately, still not occurred. But finally, in this episode, they gave us the other!!!

He admitted it!

He confirmed it!

There's no taking it back now!

I am proud to be able to say, with full canon support, that Robert Wade Nash is the adoring father of Evan Buck Buckley.

I'VE WANTED THIS FOR SO LONGGGGG

It's been so obvious from the first goddamn episode. I thank you May Grant for finally getting Bobby to admit that Buck is his son. The familial dynamics in the show might be my favourites, with the entire main cast feeling like a family. However, the most obvious of these has always been Bobby and Buck's father-son relationship. It's beautiful really, how close they are and how Bobby is finally able to admit to everyone, including himself, how deep their relationship is.

There's so much more that I could say, but this has already been so long so I'm going to try and wrap it up with one last thing. My rambles always seem to get away from me lol.

I absolutely loved the conclusion. It being the construct of Bobby to tell Buck how to get out is consistent with the focus of the episode, and shows the regard that Buck has for Bobby. Even in a prison constructed by his own mind to hold him there, Buck still has Bobby to rely on. It's one of the most heartwarming moments in the episode.

And then there's the confrontation or, as I mentally called it, the final boss fight. Daniel. The price of leaving is the loss of his brother, because Daniel only lives in the minds of his family. But that's not who the true enemy is. The enemy was just using his image, a mask to hide behind. I cannot honestly say I was surprised when he was revealed, but it was such a powerful moment when Daniel turned into Buck. Because everything happening inside the coma is Buck. It's all in his mind; the pain, the torment, the loathing. Buck's worst enemy, time and time again, is himself. His self worth issues, his abandonment issues, his self doubt. The final enemy to overcome is the voice in the back of his head, given form and prominence in his comatose state. And it almost wins. But there, on the other side, is everyone who actually loves Buck. The real love, not the kind that his mind imagined. Bobby with his rosary, Christopher sneaking in, Maddie and Chimney, Eddie, Hen, even his parents. They're all there because they love him. Because nobody, nobody at all, can defeat the voice in their mind without help.

Also Buck pulling an axe from absolutely nowhere was just peak escaping. Like yes, go get out of this coma by smashing a window with an axe that you just have because you're a firefighter. You get An Axe.

[daytaker]

The Gang React to Weed

Happy 4/20, here's a thing.

(I'm imagining that demons have the same reactions to weed that humans do. I don't think they actually would have the same reactions, but theoretically...)

Oh, and to make my own bias clear: I'm not a fan, personally. I can't think about weed without thinking about the smell. The stink. So I'm not sure if the focus on the smell in these comes off as weird or not, but it's so powerful in my mind, it must be addressed.

Lucifer hates weed. Don't call that the Devil's lettuce, he wouldn't touch it with a ten foot pole. It smells like skunk. It's revolting. Don't use it in his house. Don't use it in his presence. Don't use it. It's antithetical to everything he believes in.

Mammon...would stone. I see him as someone who uses one of those vape pens on the DL (not nearly as smelly, so much safer to use in the House of Lamentation) but he'd also like gummies and weed brownies. Being stoned is just fun. It's pleasant. It's relaxing. Chill out, Lucifer, you're harshing the vibes, man.

Leviathan is nervous about weed. He has this idea that there's a way he's supposed to react to cannabis, and when he doesn't, he feels like there's something wrong with him. He's supposed to feel all chill and groovy, right? So why does he just feel dizzy? Why is he not relaxed? Why isn't he chill?! Why isn't he groovy?!?!?! He probably psyches himself out too much to enjoy it. He's too nervous about the social expectations.

Satan is kind of ambivalent to weed. He doesn't particularly enjoy it. I don't think he'd like feeling intoxicated in general because of the lack of control. But at the same time.... it pisses Lucifer off so much, how can he not appreciate that? He doesn't like the smell either, so if it wasn't for Lucifer, he'd be the one complaining about it, but as it stands, he's perfectly willing to enable his brothers who do like it.

Asmodeus doesn't mind it in moderation, and only in edibles. Again... the smell. He will not tolerate smelling like anything less than a bouquet of roses. He only really uses it socially.

Beelzebub can't have cannabis. And I know you know why. The cravings. You can't just take gluttony and make it hungrier. It Devours. Once, Mammon left some weed brownies unattended, and he was strung up by Lucifer for days, not because he brought pot into the house, but because Beelzebub ate them and went on a mindless rampage through the Devildom, eating his way through various businesses and even a few historic landmarks. Everything was game: stone, dirt, wood, you name it. The bottomless pit just became bottomless-er.

Belphegor likes it. Similar to Mammon, he doesn't want the hassle of Lucifer getting on his case, so he prefers the vape pen, since it's less smelly and also Beel-safe. It makes him feel cozy and relaxed, because if Belphie needs anything, it's something to help him fall asleep more easily.

Diavolo loves it! But since Lucifer hates it, he doesn't use it very often. I actually imagine he and Solomon occasionally hang out and smoke. Only very rarely, because he's much too busy to be fucking off with some tricksy wizard and getting high, but it happens from time to time.

Barbatos is indifferent to it. What's some intoxication in the face of millions of years of experiences and virtual omniscience? It won't affect him. But please, young master, if you must indulge, change your clothes after. The scent has a way of clinging to fabric...

Solomon loves weed! It's so fun. What a great way to take the edge off. Mind-altering substances are very fun for a guy who's seen it all, even if cannabis is relatively lowkey. When he senses that the moment is right, he'll whisk Diavolo away every now and then and hang out in some scenic location while smoking. He has a fantasy that one day, Diavolo will spontaneously suggest they make a pact during such an occasion. It hasn't happened yet.

Simeon isn't interested in getting high. It's not for him, or for any angels, really. I wish I had a more nuanced picture of him for this prompt, but I'm just picturing a meme with Simeon's face saying "Don't get high: get saved."

Luke is a literal child.

"What's that awful smell, Simeon?"

"Oh, that's just some Devil-grass burning. Some demons enjoy the sensations inhaling the smoke causes."

"Demons would like something like that!"

[keepmovinjunior]

i just wanted to talk about something (under a read more bc it is out of character)

everyone is here for their own reasons, and that's cool. i totally get that. i'm not about to tell anyone how to spend their time or operate on their own blog.

i, personally, am here for fun and that's it. i'm here to write. i'm here to ramble about fictional characters and have silly little interactions on the dash / expand on my character's relationship with your character's. my real life has its own stressors (i have a great life but obviously not everything is peachy keen and being someone who is politically informed and inclined, i want to have a safe space in which i am not interacting with that type of content that i can retreat to for my own relaxation). at the end of the day this is, as i said, playing tumblr barbies for me (and most likely for most people). it's a game and it's not that serious. in fact, it's like. not serious at all.

some people are here for community and friendships and that's totally fine. i'm not against making friends, either, and i do really like and appreciate a lot of the people i interact with often and on a daily basis, even if i don't know most of you well at all. we engage in the same hobby and we're all aliases behind a screen but i really do enjoy talking to many of you. however, at the end of the day, if i don't make friends here, that's fine, too. i'm just chilling!

having said that, i've been around for a long time and have, of course, made friendships, had relationships, gone in and out of certain blogs, etc. and this is not a hobby i think i will ever outgrow (probably will just have less time for during certain periods of my life - and most people probably will experience that). i've had falling outs, i've had moments of being uncomfortable with certain people, i have had headcanons and sometimes even some of my own graphics lifted from my blog by others of the same muse, i've even had whole ass relationships with other writers in which i was very hurt. but here's the damn thing, ok: i never, ever, not even once, had a public DNI that other people had to adhere to to write with me, tried to call someone out or incite community wide drama by dragging other unrelated people into what happened over my own personal experiences, or tried to control anyone else over it. i always understood that not everyone is going to feel the same way, or have the same experience, with another person. i understood that dealing with my feelings about the situation was on me, and it was in my own best interest to learn how to move past or live with what happened. if i felt uncomfortable with seeing that other person around, it was my own responsibility to handle my own feelings as i saw fit, and no one else needed to do that for me. this is just good philosophy toward life in general, but, as it applies to tumblr: if i couldn't handle seeing someone on this platform and co-existing in this space, i would leave, sign out, or just. literally do anything else. i knew that my own friends and my own fun is what i should focus on.

there is a feature on tumblr called filtering. you can blacklist tags and users. you can filter things that make you uncomfortable if you want to stay but don't want to see those things. you can unfollow. you can block. you can literally do anything else, and you don't owe explanations for that. or, if you can't handle it even with those things done, you can sign out and leave and invest your time in something healthier and more relaxing. this is a hobby.

by all means, have your DNIs, make your call outs (leave me out of those, though, because i guarantee you that unless this person is a sexual predator, groomer, or scam artist, i am not going to care, especially if i have no relationship with anyone else involved in said drama) and will think you're ridiculous for it. just know that the moment you start to try to control how other people operate, you will lose out on a lot of really good experiences and just make this a more miserable place for you to be.

the best healing is exposure and love and support. it's not focusing on what other people do or seeking out spaces in which you will be triggered because you enjoy being a victim.

take it from me, a 30 year old queer woman who has gone through my fair share of loss in life: it's not that serious. it's really not.

[iridescentdove]

Helloo, I was thinking about a scenario with Nikolai and a twin sister reader who’s similar to Lynette if it’s possible. Tyy 💕

Nikolai Gogol x Lynette! Reader

Hello anon! I'm back ... again. I'm an on and off person in this app at this point lmfao. By the way, requests are closed for now everyone! But you can still ask me questions and other stuff. Let's start.

Lyney is a more reserved girl. She rarely talks to others out of her own accord, letting Lyney (in this case Nikolai) do the talking for her, and dissuades essentially any attempt to speak with her by saying bizarre responses. Whenever she needs to talk, she speaks briefly and frankly.

NIKOLAI GOGOL:

Both of you are literally the polar opposites, it's kinda funny. Nikolai is that one fun dude at parties and you're just the one sitting in the corner watching him like 🗿

Nikolai: dumb bitch

You: dumb bitch's caretaker and sister unfortunately but whatever

Honestly he's not annoying, he's actually just cheerful around you and loves to hang around you. He's one of those rare actual good big brothers! <3

Often you're very reserved and prefer to keep to yourself, so he does most of the talking.

He doesn't let you see Fyodor, or even breathe in his direction. We all know why. And i'm pretty sure even Nikolai is sane enough to know he won't let anything happen to you. You're his precious little dove, aren't you?

People find you two a fun duo ngl

Like, you're also his assistant when he does magic and you both are unintentionally goofy as hell.

It's not even a coincidence at this point, I can totally see this guy being Lyney. Imagine he's just being down bad for Fyodor and you have to drag him away like "not again bitch"

He fr needs to chill. Like we know you want to kill him but tf that light skin stare for 🤨

I'd like to think that both of you take the time out of your day to have some fun together. Given BSD is just death, death and more death.

I totally headcanon Nikolai to love amusement parks.

He cannot stop trolling. The moment you're not looking he's out here making children CRY

You have to drag him away to stop him from getting kicked out or something.

Nikolai isn't overprotective, but he's not chill either. I'd like to believe that he trusts you, but at some point if someone even so much as looked at you weird–

They'll be in the seventh circle of hell pretty quick.

He honestly loves how chill and seemingly reserved you are, the fact you're so patient with him, he appreciates a lot.

But will be very dramatic when it comes to showing love to you. Come on now, he's a clown. what did u expect

"My dear sister says she is on her period. I am too. It's uterUS." "That doesn't mean you can wear my PADS"

... 😐

Okay nevermind, sometimes he does get overbearing. But you guys are the perfect siblings anyway.

Sorry if I couldn't do a scenario, I had no idea what to do. Writers' block still has me.