#is mean and unpleasant as a way of ''''explaining'''' that behavior

[musical-chick-13]

My God I am so tired of people only talking about mental illness and/or disability in fiction/as a literary theme when they can use it to back up their terrible male faves by saying that they Weren't That Bad, Actually and They Belong To A Marginalized/Unfairly Demonized Group, So You Need To Be On Their Side.

[kichiyosh1]

"I made it with you in mind"

wanderer x reader

to think he'd end up finding joy in such a childish activity

✧: he ends up being mean at the beginning but he apologizes in his own special way, slight hurt/comfort but nothing major

(I'm back ig? idk :3)

He couldn't believe the absurdity to which you and the young archon were subjecting him to.

The sins committed by the former harbinger are things he won't refute or deny. Indeed such actions musn't go unpunished, but perhaps he's underestimated the extent of the dendro archon's mercy.

Mind explaining what all of this is supposed to be?" he knows, with just a single glance, he grasped what was about to unfold, he just couldn't believe it. There displayed before his very eyes, a colorful assortment of beads lay scattered across a wooden table.

"You've dabbled in arts and crafts before, haven't you? You could say I proposed the idea to Lord kusanali as a way to keep that evil little brain of yours occupied"

'What evil is there to be done in bracelet crafting of all things, huh?' he deadpanned while simultaneously picking up a bead, examining how it reflects the light that's passing through the crystalline windows.

He let out a scoff.

"Have you forgotten who I am? A being of celestial creation, lessened to do recreational activities such as these? how amusing." Pathetic was the word he was looking for. Seriously, do you really expect him to just sit down quietly and start passing beads on a string without complaint to how this is a hit on his pride? It'd be more fitting if you locked him up for all of eternity, but this, this was just mockery.

It was the warmth of your hand that snapped him out of his thoughts. Eyes widened before squinting, but he dared not move, curious to what it was you were doing. You had started to fasten a piece of string to his wrist, gentle with your touch, measuring it so that it'd fit securely, but not too tight to be uncomfortable.

"Who gave you permission to lay your hands on me?" The warmth of your touch was strangely starting to get to him. He swatted your hand away, any more of that and he wouldn't know how to react.

Both of you were now glaring at each other. "Is it that hard for you to accept someone's act of kindness? I'm just trying to help." You could've sworn there was a slight change in his eyes when you said that, but was quickly replaced by an irritated smirk on his face. "I don't recall ever asking for your help, go give it to someone who actually needs it." He waved you off before plopping himself down on one of the stools before suddenly picking out random beads and charms like he wasn't against the idea a moment ago.

With furrowed brows and your mouth left slightly agape by his rude behavior, your face settled on a frown. You were used to the wanderer's arrogance and unpleasant attitude towards people, but there are times where even you are left puzzled. You went out of your way to make sure the activities kusanali planned out wouldn't overwhelm him, she'd ask you if you were doing this out of pity for him. You firmly shook your head.

You simply cared for him, that's all there was to it, but it didn't seem like he reciprocated the motion. The last he's heard from you was a sigh, before the sound of your footsteps slowly leaving faded.

You haven't visited him since. I mean how could you? if he was going to act like a brat while you spent your time there then might as well steer clear out of his way. No, you weren't being petty, and even if you were, you most certainly had every right to be. You nodded to yourself, justifying your actions as wanderer just being an asshat and you being the more mature one in this situation.

It wasn't easy. There were times where you would cross paths when he was on break from his duties (and bracelet crafting), or times where he himself is actively seeking you out, and before he could even call out your name, you're already making a bee line towards the exit.

You sat yourself down, exhausted from all this running around. Another successful day of not coming into contact with the wanderer.

"Doesn't he have other businesses to attend to?" If he had time to be going around looking for you then surely he was slacking off, right?

"As far as I'm concerned, you are my business." Speak of the devil and he shall appear.

"So how long do you plan on avoiding me?" he was standing behind you, face leaning down above your head as you met his gaze from your position on the bench.

You put on an air of annoyance before flicking his forehead, causing him to hiss and reel back from your attack as he rubbed the spot. "Hey! you deprive me of your company for days and now you dare assault my face? you-" you were already walking away, with the esteemed wanderer quickly following closely behind you.

"Hey", he reached for your hand, but you batted it away. It was definitely worth it to see the offended look on his face, but there was a small pang in your heart when you saw how his face faltered. "Who gave you permission to lay your hands on me? don't go acting all buddy buddy with me now." you crossed your arms, throwing back what he had said to you a few days ago.

"ah, you're upset with me about last time." You kept a stern look on your face, expecting for more, but if he failed to deliver then you'd have no trouble turning away from him again.

His mouth kept opening and closing similar to that of a goldfish, but no words came out. He looks conflicted. It took him a whole minute to sort out his thoughts, and with a deep sigh he spoke.

"The way I reacted, it was uncalled for. Like you said, you were only trying to help and I should have, I, it's just the way you held my hand, it made me feel weird." his gaze turned downcast feeling a little embarrassed by getting riled up by something so minor as physical contact.

you don't know that of course, you'd just assume he was really really ticklish in some areas

Would you mind closing your eyes for a moment? I promise It'll only take a second", the soft spoken tone he's taken on is foreign to you, but not unwelcome. You were hesitant but complied. And if he does anything funny you'll make sure to write a full on report about it to kusanali.

You could only feel how he softly held your hand, how he delicately glided his dainty finger in order to tie what you assumed was a,

a bracelet?

You opened your eyes and that's when he leaned in, his soft breath near your ear "It was supposed to be a surprise gift, but an apology gift works too." your face felt warm, and your hand did too (to which he was still holding). Was this the weird feeling he was talking about.

A moment after, you examined the accessory on your wrist.

and my was it beautiful.

The main colors of the bracelet were your favorite colors, accompanied by beautiful white pearl beads and crystal flowers and cute charms. Truly something you wouldn't expect the wanderer himself to make.

You released a small laugh, happiness spreading throughout your system. "Did you really make this?" You were starting to look too happy for his liking, but of course you always looked more beautiful with a smile on your face. He scoffed in order to hide the ever creeping happiness that was also starting to spread across his face.

"Is it that hard to believe? I had you in mind when I made it after all, so if you're going to complain about its design then the person used as reference is at fault." You were just about to complain to him about him complaining that you'd not dare complain about it when he added on.

"again, I'm sorry for disregarding your help. Whether I needed it or not, I wanted to make the bracelet solely on my own so that it'd be more meaningful of a gift to give to you." This time he held your gaze, determined and truthful about what he said.

It seems you had judged him wrong, well not entirely. True he had a unique character, but that's just what made him, him. You held his hand, and the colors from earlier are returning to both of your faces. You held it there before pointing to his wrist, "It's only right I make you one as well, right? that way we'll be matching." You then intertwined your fingers. He was gonna combust.

EXTRA:

"I didn't think wanderer would be that into bracelet making" Kusanali peaked from the corner of the room. He was deeply concentrating on what he was doing and she did not want to disturb. "A little peek into that mind of his wouldn't hurt". After using her skill, a flurry of thoughts from wanderer flood her mind.

'Is this too much? or maybe too little? is [y/n] a minimalist or a maximalist?'

'This reminds me of you, this one too, and this one.'

'This charm is cute, like you. Wait no you're most definitely more cuter'

'this bracelet should be honored to be worn by you'

'maybe i'll make you a necklace next'

'I hope you'll like it'

[fumifooms]

Analysis of Laios’ succubus and theories on what it means - deep dive on Laios’ desires in human connections

Laios’ succubus is a very odd incident. I have some particular interpretations of why it was Marcille, and why things went down the way they did.

We know that a succubus shows what one desires, stated in canon as “an alluring form”; yes often in a romantic or sexual sense, as seen with Chilchuck’s succubus being entirely set on looks and seduction, meanwhile Marcille’s does have a focus on chivalrous noble demeanor as well, showing romantic behavior and personality. BUT with Izutsumi we also see that the liaison doesn’t have to be romantic or sexual at all, either, in Izutsumi’s case it’s a familial bond she craves. So perhaps we can say that the succubus exploits a desire based on connection, in whichever form that takes. Marcille wants an emotional connection foremost(which is also reflected in how it’s a character she knows very well and not a stranger. Perhaps romantic.), Chilchuck wants pleasure(a simple pleasure not unlike alcohol, perhaps such a connection is free of the more risky or unpleasant parts of a relationship, he doesn’t have to worry or to think and can just let himself go. Sexual.), Izutsumi wants a mother figure that can offer her warmth and comfort with who she doesn’t have to be tough (Familial), and I believe Laios’ is platonic and centered on his desire to have people with who he belongs and can be himself with…

But Laios’ case is more complex, it has layers. The thing is, even if Laios wanted to have someone able to turn him into a monster—which it didn’t even have to be, could straight up have just been a monster with such powers—, it didn’t have to be someone he knew. You could say the succubus wanted to disarm Laios’ suspicions with someone he knew and that was nearby, but the succubus seem very direct in every other case, simply appearing with someone’s greatest appearance even though both Marcille and Chilchuck were fully on guard and the succubi knew it. "Believability" isn’t an important factor. No, his succubus being someone he knew was important. It being Marcille was important.

There’s a TLDR at the end of this if you want to cut it short. For everyone else, strap in everyone, if you don’t know me hi I’m Fumi and I made this 3k words long analysis and theorizing bc I am autistic much like the character in question and I think this is both fascinating and has a lot to say. In this I offer both platonic and romantic reasonings and I do go rather in depth in Laios’ psychology and relationships to dissect what ever could this damn cryptic event MEAN. Spoilers for the succubus chapters obviously and also the last few arcs of the series so… Spoilers for the series as a whole!

—

So attraction wise it’s kinda unsure where Laios stands. He does sort of logically list off aesthetically pleasing traits of the orc’s wives, but besides that… Not really, or he never voices it anyways. He and Marcille never share like “omg you’re pretty” moments or anything. Senshi gets more compliments than either of them through the series lmfao. Maybe Laios is asexual, maybe he simply doesn’t show outwardly his attraction much or even maybe isn’t self-aware about it, regardless… Laios HAS implied preference for Marcille’s looks in the past. With the orcs, he said that “tallmen like long ears”. Laios’ shapeshifter of Marcille has her hair down just like her succubus, which by Kui is explained to be because she had it down when she revived Falin and it really marked him, though it could also be interesting to see it as his mental image of her as her most authentic self, I’ve seen it theorized that it’s a preference too but I think that’s disproven. But of course the most damning evidence itself… The succubus scene. It could have been anyone else in the party, certainly Senshi shares Laios’ interest in monsters much more already. We shouldn’t discredit the way Laios was blushing madly once she revealed she was a monster, that made her more attractive to Laios for sure, but he still wouldn’t have reacted that way if it was just anyone. The contexts are very different, but we can compare it to how Laios reacted when Lycion turned into a wolf man in front of him for instance. Laios certainly doesn’t act that way with Izutsumi- and it’s confirmed like a page later that he does see Izutsumi as a monster already. AND!! Laios starts blushing madly BEFORE she says that she can turn him into a monster- and we can safely assume that the blush isn’t out of simple fluster but out of desire/infatuation since he clearly wants her to bite him in the next page and his blush does not relent at all.

There’s something we could say about Laios’ liking of Marcille being born out of companionship rather than aesthetic attraction, on familiarity and intimacy. As members of the same party they’ve spent a lot of time together and we’ve seen that Laios trusts in her and relies on her for her skillset and avice. If Laios’ interest in her developped more naturally and gradually, valuing the familiar bond they have, I don’t see why he’d be acting all blushy and lovesick every time they interact or whatever, which is the explanation I have for Marcille genuinely being Laios’ most alluring form but him not freezing at the sight of it. That could also be a reason why he physically rejects succubus!Marcille instinctively, because something about her feels off or different (which is sorta the most direct interpretation of the scene, since Laios’ first thought is that it can’t be Marcille and must be a monster).

 [Edited in: Oh my god. The picture above is the last page of the dullahan chapter, chapter 57, a chapter that centers around Laios and Marcille’s relationship through flashbacks as Laios is on the brink of death and sees his life flashing before his eyes (he remembers how they first met, etc, which is also interesting to note that on the brink of death he reminisces about her the most). The last page of that chapter, more or less the thesis of the chapter in which we see Laios opens up about the real reason he and Falin go dungeon diving to her after them having a rough meeting but she turns out to also have an interest in dungeons, has Laios go "she starts out frowning but she ends up smiling! Wether its’s about eating monsters or about me :)”. That chapter is the one right before th succubus chapters. Laios’ most alluring form wasn’t “just” Marcille, it’s a SMILING Marcille. Which is why the succubus had such a weird and off demeanor right away (which gets knocked off once it doesn’t work and becomes a more Marcille-like Marcille)! It was only focused on smiling because it was the angle it was working from.

Oh my god it makes sense. It’s a direct narrative link, it’s as explicitly put with its story structure without Kui just stating it, besides, you know, the many times Laios says how precious her smile is to him. He’s like “I love her smile” and right next chapter the succubus is like “yes this is what he likes seeing most”. But… This also does mean that the focus might be less romantic, like Marcille’s significance doesn’t diminish, but then the alluring form might be less about her and more about the smile itself. About having a friend who looks at him like that, about someone who smiles after eating monster dishes or surpassing obstacles together… Or it can actually be so much more romantic. Like, maybe the smiling Marcille doesn’t work is because well, it’s not like Marcille, she wouldn’t just be smiling like that and behave like that (esp since his musing is about how her smiles are sort of “earned”, that she doesn’t smile right away but it’s sort of like a rewarding sight when she does). So then the most alluring form of Marcille doesn’t work because she doesn’t convincingly BEHAVE like her. His most alluring form isn’t a Marcille-lookalike, it’s her as a whole. More on the succubus shifting/switching in its approach later.]

Anyways.

Where was I. Ah yes, “It could have been anyone else in the party, certainly Senshi shares Laios’ interest in monsters much more already.” But then that’s the point isn’t it. I think Laios’ succubus being Marcille is because his wish isn’t so much focused on her, or on becoming a monster, but on not being alone. On being understood. On having others finally share his interest. On not only becoming a monster, but having someone to share that with. A trusted friend, a companion, or a lover, it matters little in my interpretation, the bedrock of it stays the same. And this is why it’d be someone he already knew instead of someone new, because it’d defeat the point, and it was maybe Marcille because she’s the most vocal about finding monsters disgusting: it’d have finally been a shift in her that she now liked monsters. And again this brings back to when he talks about her smile, when he says that she starts out unhappy with eating monsters, but ends up smiling by the end of it. Her smile itself represents that though first impression or reflexive dislike, someone can turn around and end up liking it anyways, it’s hope for his interests to be liked and perhaps for him to be lovable as well, that it’s possible to be accepted.

But I do think it would be a mistake to say that there’s absolutely no romantic interest, that it’s plainly platonic or another kind of interest misplaced and idealized in her. What we saw with the other succubus is that they 100% act in ways that the person desires, sure Izutsumi’s start attacking after a while, but that was after pushing them over the edge, and succubus Marcille wasn’t being agressive nor did she have a reason to be (even when she could have with Laios’ choking, she didn’t turn to violence, so she was 100% still in seduction mode). Ultimately the goal of the succubus is to make physical contact to be able to suck their essence, but the way they go about achieving that is tailored to the individual’s desire, Marcille’s kissed her hand and Izutsumi’s offered a hug.  The succubus can identify and embody complex desires, often subconscious ones, shown with Izutsumi’s. They go straight to it without complex subterfuge either. Chilchuck’s succubi were very direct because that’s what he wanted, Marcille’s was courtly because that’s what she wanted, Izutsumi’s offered motherly comfort and affection because that’s what she wanted, and Laios’ is Marcille attempting to kiss him. Let that sink in.

Laios why are you choking the supposed key to your heart?

Ok so the theory that Laios’ desire is to have a deeper companionship from an existing companion is pretty tame and surface level I’d say, but strap in… The way Laios reacted violently to Marcille trying to kiss him is VERY interesting. The first thing he thinks about is that she isn’t Marcille so she must be a succubus, then confusion at to why it’s her. He’s even afraid of what the others would think, feeling… Shame? With how he imagines Marcille would be horrified that he likes her that way. Fear of rejection?

But no no, what interests me is the shift that the succubus makes. It seemed very confident at first, went straight in, but when overpowered shifted the direction it was going in- shifted from a desire for Marcille to a desire for a monster Marcille and whatever deeper desire that hides. But??? Succubi did not make mistakes as to what someone wanted thus far, possibly that has never ever happened before by human records. Could the succubus truly have miscalculated what Laios desires? It’d be hard to imagine that the succubus would misunderstand what type of companionship someone wished for or what approach to take, since it’s done complex cases before too, Izutsumi being very much in denial before it & at first. In Izutsumi’s case, even with her complex feelings over it and her two souls desiring different things, the succubus did not miss its mark, and ultimately it was having a second soul for who the succubus wasn’t alluring that allowed her not to be frozen to the spot. But with Laios the succubus fully switches strategy.

The thing is that succubi don’t usually need to switch strategies, because the form and approach they take always work and always leave the victim frozen. Izutsumi bypassed this because of her two souls, but was still frozen and struggling to reject the succubus at first. And yet? Laios did. A succubus’ victim is supposed to be instantly frozen, and yet Laios acts on instinct and defensively agressive as soon as his reaction time allows. And well, it’s hard to really come to a logical conclusion as to why, since we have no idea of what rules can override a succubus’ temptation besides multiple souls… C’mon regular Marcille can’t be the winged lion/kenksuke’s desire bc of the loose hair being Laios’ mind-Marcille we’ve gone over this /hj Although, since it’s confirmed that the winged lion was watching with the dream Laios gets induced right after, maybe he’s what allowed Laios to be moving? It’s possible that it’d have frozen him otherwise, even if Laios with his full rationale wouldn’t have accepted the kiss faced with supernatural allure he might have gotten paralysis from being overwhelmed, similarly to how if Chilchuck had his full rationale he wouldn’t allow a woman like his succubus to kiss him (he’s always stayed faithful to his wife even after 4 years of separation, give the guy his earned credit). Getting somewhat offtopic, but something to say about how if that’s the case once again the theme of ‘irrational desire you crave vs what you truly want/need’ that is present throughout the manga would be reflected.

My best guess however on why Laios reacted so quickly and forcefully is: trauma. The more recent arcs with Laios suggest that Laios has deep-seated trauma over humans. He dislikes humans as a whole, that was like, pretty much stated, though perhaps exaggerated. As a kid he fantasized about monsters wiping out human towns. We know Laios has been ostracized for most of his life by others, in his village and in the military, and beyond social rejection it’s shown he got beaten in group too and it was implied that it happened regularly. But damn, disliking humans to the point of wanting to be a monster and murderous genocidal reclusive envies and all of that stuff? That is massive trauma, massive identity & belonging issues and hint at massive trust issues.

So then, the negative reaction could be because of Laios’ deep trauma with humans. Because of trauma getting activated, not due to a miscalculation on the succubus’ part but due to a contradicting dislike of the desire that makes the form inherently and straight out of the gate un-alluring, Laios’ repression being so strong that he’s able to affect his own desires in that way, or an instinctive defense response to the trigger (a human).   Even though Laios hides it well, once again recent arcs (and some other moments) make it clear that Laios still has some innate dislike of humans, which in canon is a term that all races like elves fit in. He has a bias against them, perhaps even an innate distrust of them. Who knows how aware he is of it, or how much control and will he has over it. What if Laios reacting agressively to it was his defense mode tied to this kicking in, a survival and security instinct, stopping any possibility of Laios wanting a romantic relationship with a human? Any chance of that human getting close and being hurt by it, either rejected or stabbed in the back? It’d then make sense if Laios is unaware and doesn’t understand his attraction to Marcille then, if it’s a sort of self-made blockage, denial. And that’d make full sense with how, when Marcille is suddenly a monster, then all of Laios’ reluctance is gone and he’s fully enthralled, all that it took was taking away that one blockage for Laios to be utterly charmed. It takes away the trigger element, humans, and replaces it for something safer. A desire for connections, but connections with people that are ‘safe’, people who also don’t fit in with society, who are part of his interest in monsters, who would accept and understand him. I think that Laios does desire human connections, specifically, but can’t allow himself to pursue them either from conscious or unconscious trauma, so though he does desire it he can’t accept that he does/can’t accept the relationship even if it’s handed to him on a silver platter.

Conclusion

The succubus’ shift could then be either that it switched from one wish, a wish for Marcille, to another, a wish for companionship in monster-liking, or that it stayed on the same fundamental wish, but had to improvise with the new information (that Laios is human-averse)(not bc it didn’t exist previously but bc it wasn’t manifested) to take out of the equation the thing that was holding Laios back (from giving in).

But well, the fact that the rest of the party is included does lean towards the former, but in any case that doesn’t erase all I’ve spoken about, all about how Marcille is 100% the focus of this whole thing. It could still be a bit of both. But it is interesting that he worries about the party’s reaction to seeing his succubus being Marcille, and when she shifts into monster Marcille he *still* worries about the others: “b-but what about the others?” He’s a mess, with his most alluring form seducing him, and he still has a shred of resistance in him to question how the others would react, and it’s only when she says that they’re already monsters too that he truly gives in. Is he really so afraid of ostracization? Of losing the people he cares about due to judgement? Then the mention of the others in the party can simply be something the succubus added on top to unlock another “blockage”, the same way she added Marcille being a monster on top of the basic premise of Marcille; Take out the immediate dismissal of humans first, and then the fear of loss and judgement from other friends so Laios can finally stop worrying and give in. That worry/framing I’d say makes the latter more credible, because it’s not the premise of the alluring form but an extra.

In the end, like the recent arcs kind of spell out, the thing central to Laios’ character is less so a love for monsters and moreso a dislike for humans, and this is what this puts on full display.

Laios’ most alluring form is Marcille, a human that doesn’t understand his interests and thus him, and regardless of everything else that Marcille is, that is so traumatic to him that all of his being immediately rejects it.

—

Thanks for coming to my ted talk! I’ve spent so much time thinking about this and wording and rewording this same train of thought, also it’s the end of my college semester and I’m going crazy

Tldr: My personal fav theory for Laios’ succubus is that Laios really values Marcille’s smile a ton like it’s often mentioned, and that’s what his most alluring form centers on. I’ve got a ton of different interpretation on the why it’d go for a kiss? Since it tailors its approach to the person’s desires, but obviously something goes wrong with Laios’, which is really interesting because even with Izutsumi who resists because she has 2 souls so one part of her can always remain unaffected, the succubus hit bullseye on her most alluring forms. But regardless of that, I think his desire for Marcille (either her or what she represents, wether as a platonic ideal or something else) isn’t wrong/untrue perse, but that Laios has such a complex with humans and intimacy and connecting with others that his defense mode kicks in and that’s when the succubus has to shift into a different, safer desire: one that doesn’t involve humans but that still shows connections and acceptance and belonging. Also Laios realizes that it isn’t Marcille when she goes in for the kiss, which if his allure for her is based on familiarity since they’re friends and all could make sense that it’d break him away from it, or since it’s a liking based on familiarity he doesn’t freeze, or maybe it’s because the winged lion has its eye on him. I think that’s so much more likely with how Kui makes even her jokes be character moments or at least consistent, and also with the tension of the scene, than just the scene being a gag about how Marcille doesn’t mean much to Laios actually.

I think there’s a lot to be said about why Marcille is special to Laios, why her smile means something to him, etc, and I don’t think saying Marcille is special to him is exaggeration or reaching at all. Laios, Marcille and Falin are the golden trio, she’s the deuteragonist, she’s the only other character in the main party whose goal in going back for Falin is Falin and who has a bond with her and Laios outside of being coworkers, in post-canon they live together, happily, in the anime’s ending they’re emphased on by dining out all three together... I could go on.   Marcille has the benefit of being very trusted by Laios, not only with the time they’ve spent together but how she was Falin’s friends first, the person he himself feels so protective of and has been so consistently ostracized throughout her life. Marcille represents a positive odd one out that’s like, the good example of "humanity can be good and safe and warm actually".  Which is a big reason why imo Marcille is like, the secondary protag and with Falin they form the golden trio. She’s central to the story in many ways including making Laios see that humanity is worth saving and sticking with, but that’s a topic for another analysis. One such reason is how his first meeting with her went: it started really badly but ended with her coming around and unexpectedly sharing their interest in dungeons, which made him and Falin open up about the real reason they go dungeon diving, perhaps for the first time. There is just so much that goes into it but Laios seems generally very expectant of rejection: in the climax chapters after he transformed back as a human and was hiding out in the woods, pre-canon in an extra where we see him battling himself on if he should suggest eating monsters or not. But another one, the one I truly want to bring up in this post, is how genuine Marcille is! And funnily enough, how dramatic she is, and how her elf ears change position depending on her emotions. Like, let me compare her affectionately to a dog for a second, but dogs move their ears and use whole body language to communicate, and I think that part of Marcille, really strong emoting, with her ears and body language on top of her often dramatic facial expressions, reassure him. Like ok, maybe he can’t tell when Shuro and Kabru would lie to him, but Marcille? She wears her heart on her sleeve and her feelings on her whole self. And that takes away some of the stress and trauma he has with humans, explains why her smiles would “put him at ease”, doesn’t it?

I don’t remember wether I’ve mentioned this somewhere or just in my reblog linked at the end of the post, but while at first I thought the succubus going for a kiss on the lips heavily implied a romantic desire in Laios,  now I have a couple different theories on why the succubus would have gone for that approach. I think the most likely is that, if the principal allure of his succubus is her smile, the succubus is like "as long as he sees her face right up until i can suck up his blood and he passes out I’ll be gucci", so it’s not about the kiss but about him seeing her face all the while until the very last moment, so he stays charmed.

Btw chapter 34 explores Laios’ relationship with touch too imo, and we see that he is uncomfortable with touch to some degree, very unsure and hesitant and tense. I feel like it’s something more shown in a bigger picture sense with his whole struggles with humans and extras, than just in any one page so go reread the beginning of that chapter if you want I’d say, but putting a page below as example anyways. I think it’s notable that it’s a character moment shared with Marcille too, she acts sort of like a bridge to humanity with social propriety and being extroverted in many cases. In the chapter Chil and Marcille point out how awkward he is with touch, but he learns to be casual/comfy enough about touch to do healing magic with her (something that was also enforced through him having to practice magic on Marcille turned to stone, he got a lot of touch exposure and magic practice done in those days. Dammit Laios, MArcille and touch is worthy of a whole analysis of its own). She’s just like, his human comfort zone, even if they aren’t that close at least at first, besides Falin he has literally like no friends and I think that itself shows how he doesn’t fit in well socially and that it’s a significant struggle for him. But yes what I was saying here is I believe there’s setup for him recoiling from touch like he did with the succubus (due to an instinctive aversion to touch made especially intense due to the succubus’ oddness and forwardness).

I have even more theories and rambling on details on the succubus here in a reblog, but unless I want to put in some pictures of Laios repressing himself around others and such I don’t think I’ll be touching this post again in a while

[hollowed-theory-hall]

I was wondering what you thought of the Dursley’s and their treatment of Harry, I know some people think the abuse was a negative affect of the Horcrux, do you agree or do you think they are just bad people

Hi 👋

Yeah, I'm familiar with the theory that the Dursleys were affected by the Horcrux in Harry, I don't think that's the case. We don't see anyone else being mean to Harry for no apparent reason. Ron and Hermione spend just as much if not more time around him and they never seem affected by any Horcrux magic.

The Dursleys are just bad people. Bad people I can understand the motivations of, but bad people nonetheless.

The text literally explains to us what Petunia's deal is. She's jealous:

“You knew?” said Harry. “You knew I’m a — a wizard?” “Knew!” shrieked Aunt Petunia suddenly. “Knew! Of course we knew! How could you not be, my dratted sister being what she was? Oh, she got a letter just like that and disappeared off to that — that school — and came home every vacation with her pockets full of frog spawn, turning teacups into rats. I was the only one who saw her for what she was — a freak! But for my mother and father, oh no, it was Lily this and Lily that, they were proud of having a witch in the family!”

(PS, 41)

Vernon is an all-around unpleasant guy who likes it when things are normal. He loves his family in his own way, but he's incredibly intolerant of anything he doesn't consider the epitome of normal.

As he sat in the usual morning traffic jam, he couldn’t help noticing that there seemed to be a lot of strangely dressed people about. People in cloaks. Mr. Dursley couldn’t bear people who dressed in funny clothes — the getups you saw on young people! He supposed this was some stupid new fashion. He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel and his eyes fell on a huddle of these weirdos standing quite close by. They were whispering excitedly together. Mr. Dursley was enraged to see that a couple of them weren’t young at all; why, that man had to be older than he was, and wearing an emerald-green cloak! The nerve of him!

(PS, 6)

Dudley is more complicated, he was a child, with his very shitty parents who were the worst possible rule models for him, you can easily understand why he turned out the way he did. We also see he is capable of growth:

“I don’t think you’re a waste of space.” If Harry had not seen Dudley’s lips move, he might not have believed it. As it was, he stared at Dudley for several seconds before accepting that it must have been his cousin who had spoken for one thing. Dudley had turned red. Harry was embarrassed and astonished himself. “Well . . . er . . . thanks, Dudley.” [...] “But he hasn’t said thank you at all!” said Hestia indignantly. “He only said he didn’t think Harry was a waste of space!” “Yeah, but coming from Dudley that’s like ’I love you,”’ said Harry, torn between annoyance and a desire to laugh as Aunt Petunia continued to clutch at Dudley as if he had just saved Harry from a burning building

(DH, 40)

The fact Dudley’s treatment of Harry changed over the years and he became a better person thanks to knowing Harry proves the Horcrux didn't affect the Dursleys' behavior towards him. After all, if it did, Dudley wouldn't improve like this.

But the main reason I oppose the Horcrux made the Dursleys bad theory, though, is a narrative one.

I mean, shrugging all of the Dursleys' abuse of Harry to magical nonsense cheapens it. It gives them an excuse and basically absolves them. It means Dudley and his parents don't need to change, they're fine, it's just evil magic affecting their brains. It makes Dudley's small turnaround at the end worthless.

And worse than that, in my opinion, is how it makes Harry the cause of his own misery. I think it sends the completely wrong message to say that the abused kid is causing their own abuse by a magical halo that makes people evil to him. Like, that idea in itself is something I find incredibly vile.

Like, child abuse is awful, children in these environments often think there is a reason they are treated that way. That there's something they can do to make their treatment better. To make their guardians like them...

But there isn't. It was never their fault and the treatment isn't fair. There is no justification or reason that makes it okay.

I think giving the Dursleys a justifiable reason to abuse Harry goes against all of that. It cheapens the narrative, excuses Harry's suffering, weakens Dudley's mini-redemption, and it makes me feel super icky.

[tumblingxelian]

Chloe Bourgeois - Not a Typical Mean Girl

No, I am not going to sit here and talks about Chloe's family, or issues, or one writers seeming obsession with her. No!

I am here to discuss what I think is a very common misunderstanding about Chloe's character and the show in fandom that often crops up in discussion regarding her.

Namely that the thing Chloe needs most is to be chastised, rejected & punished for her mean behavior, that will sort her out!

As though that wasn't already a thing that happens?

Bear with me and I'll explain that claim first:

The school does not like punishing any students. The only reason Alya was punished for coordinating an effort to break into Chloe's locker is because Chloe threatened the principle. The only reason Marinette was almost expelled was because Lila framed her for cheating, theft & assault all in one day & she still needed to make a scene of the whole affair. There's one teacher that punishes students, but she does so unfairly, cruelly and haphazardly and in season 1, Chloe was not shown getting any special treatment from her. Special treatment from the faculty was not a thing unless we are counting later retcons.

So now that the faculty is out of the way, wat I mean is that Chloe is not a typical mean girl because she is not popular.

In stuff like Mean Girls, Heathers and so on, the usual standard is that the mean girls are mean, but they are also revered, beloved, popular in one way or another despite their horrible behavior.

This is not the case with Chloe.

Even in Season 1 where only Marinette & Nino seems to start the season disliking Chloe. (Her presence unpleasant but hardly traumatic given the Origins level bickering) Chloe was still not widely well liked by the class or school.

She had one friend in Sabrina and a second oh so briefly in Adrien, which did let her absorb some of his celebrity by proximity. But within 48 hours of having him she lost him; with Adrien becoming more distant to divorce himself from her behavior.

That's it and while one can say her haughty attitude and ego are the reason we know from season 2 she is aware everyone hates her & it upsets her.

S1-Chloe did get invited to some class events, but even then her presence was not largely welcomed with most far less prone to be patient with her than they were with others even if they exhibited similar behavior. Such as Kim bullying Ivan, or Nino expressing blatant frustration with Mylene, ETC.

By late season 2 she was pretty much entirely segregated from her peers, barring Sabrina, and her presence welcomed with shades of disinterest, disdain or outright hostility. Sometimes evoked on her part or just in general.

This is a big difference from the usual Mean Girls = Popular Girls trend but I often don't see it acknowledged in fandom discourse.

This especially feels to be the case given so often I see people arguing Chloe "needs" to be rejected, or told her behavior is bad, or that no one likes her... But she is, all the time, she is entirely aware people don't like her and unhappy about it.

The issue is not that her bad behavior is being rewarded in school. The issue is that bad behavior is what she was taught at home and what is encouraged there and what is shown to work for her parents. But it doesn't work for her and she doesn't know why, because no one really bothers to teach her why. hey just get angry and snap at her or ignore her.

& sure you can say its not her peers job to explain morality o empathy to someone who was explicitly taught by their father how to cheat at & win elections by intimidation. But the fact is no one at home is going to do so because they are modelling, encouraging & teaching the opposite up until it impacts 'them' personally.

Not sure if there's a greater point to this, but...

I often find people acting like the thing Chloe needs is for her bad behavior not to be 'rewarded' or 'indulged' by her class and to instead be 'rejected' and for her to face 'consequences'.

But she does! That's basically all she does; & When she doesn't usually an Akuma tries to murder her anyway!

So yeah, Chloe isn't a typical mean girl.

She's actually deeply unpopular among classmates and the school has a discipline issue all over, it didn't come from her.

More negativity is not going to magically make her "better".

[pomegraphy]

How to Guide on Shadow work,

A loose Step by step and simple guide to shadow work.

Before you continue

I know we all saw those tiktok shadow work books and how easy it was! Now, so many people are trying to get into shadow work, but they just don't know how or what it actually is! So I'm here to try my best and explain what it is, the benefits, and the purpose of it! If anything I said is wrong, please let me know! Remember! Everything I say is just what I know works for ME. If it doesn't work for you, create a way that does work for you! Find more resources that can help you!

What exactly is Shadow work?

First, we have to understand what a Shadow is. Carl Jung is a psychiatrist and psychoanalyst who created the Jungian Archetypes. The term Shadow and what we're focusing on comes from Jung's model of psyche. The Shadow is the unconscious part of your mind that has all of the repressed aspects of oneself.

But what does this mean exactly?

It means that the Shadow embodies the unpleasant side of yourself. From unfilled desires, unhealed damage/trauma, and things you consider to be harmful. Also, it can be referred to as self-projecting.

People naturally repress their Shadow because it's things that are socially unacceptable, harmful, or hurts you in some way or form be mentally or physically.

Shadow Work

Now, Shadow Work is actually a type of psychotherapy in psychology. It involves exploring, acknowledging, and integrating the parts of yourself that you've previously repressed or even ignored.

The goal of Shadow Work is to recognize and acknowledge those parts of yourself. It's to learn that the parts you repress is who you are and those parts of yourself aren't good or bad. It's to learn how to accept yourself and who you are at your core.

How Shadow Work helps

Identifying and regulating your emotions (why do I feel this way? Am I angry at you or at myself?)

Improving your self esteem, self acceptance, self confidence, and self projecting

Strengthening and deepening relationships

Learning healthy coping mechanisms that work for YOU

Learning and how to modify self-sabotaging behaviors

Be cautious

It is easy to go down into a self deprecating spiral when doing this! Remember that the goal is to NOT highlight your worst qualities and get rid of them but to accept those qualities and learn how to live WITH those qualities. You are exploring yourself. This means self acceptance. By rejecting parts of yourself you are going down the opposite path!

How to approach shadow work?

Think of all of your 'cringiest/embarrassing' moments and stop thinking about how other people view it or what other people think or how you THINK they thought about it. Think about WHY you felt embarrassed in that moment. Be on your own side. Don't be an enemy to yourself or bully.

If something about a person triggers you (shocked, taken aback at their behavior), think how you would react to yourself exhibiting that behavior? Are you jealous or resentful of someone? Feel that feeling and really get to know it. Know exactly what you are feeling and know the exact cause.

Understand WHY you have negative behaviors. Did something happen in the past that made you develop that behavior? Once you acknowledge and recognize the cause of that behavior, you can then work towards a path of 'healing' in a way that you can accept it and find the next step towards a better sense of self that YOU can accept.

Recognize that the past does not exist. What exists is the present. If you felt embarrassed, something in your 'past' has conditioned you to feel that way. Your mind is still holding on to what has conditioned you. You have to learn to let go because the past is no longer happening right now. It doesn't exist, so there's no need to still feel conditioned to react embarrassed when it's already passed.

Everything you do as a habit, belief, or values that you don't fully understand will form and is your shadow.

Beware that you have things about yourself that you don't fully understand. Take time, reflect, recollect, and understand the things you don't get about yourself. There is never a 'I just picked this habit up.' Why did you pick that habit up? What made you pick it up? Is this a response to something that has happened to you before?

Why do you react a certain way? What caused it? When did you start doing it? What emotions do you feel during it? Why do you feel those emotions?

How do you motivate yourself? Why do you motivate yourself that way? What caused you to do it that way? Is it harmful or helpful? Why?

Integrate your Shadow to yourself. Find ways to express these unconscious things you repress in a healthy way.

Results of Shadow Work

It is important that as you see results that you MUST be kind to yourself. You must be patient and not rush through it. Setbacks are normal. Go at your own pace and take breaks. Everyone has a shadow. Do not feel upset over the things you learn about yourself. Seek help from others. It's okay to find a support system during this process. Whether it be from a professional or someone close to you.

Tips

Journaling your progress.

Be persistent

Be patient

Understand that not everyone goes on the same Shadow working process. Learn what does and doesn't work for you.

[pikuniku53353358]

wait what did a-rabid-snake do?? I heard you guys had a serious argument??

Yes, it's true... If you're so interested in what we quarreled about, then fine, I'll tell you. So... She sent all the members of my group in a telegram several times simply because she was in a "bad mood". And when I say everyone, I mean EVERYONE (there were also her friends and her ex-girlfriend and boyfriend in this group). She was offended by the fact that we did not comment on her art and ignored her, and when we began to comment on them, she accused us of making stupid jokes and in general we offended her (although there were jokes at the level of a Chinese Saint, since once she drew a Saint in a kimano)

And also she sometimes asked us to give her ideas for art, and when we offered her these very ideas, she said that: "oh, why did I ask you at all, you didn't help me in any way" and other similar hypocritical words. Why hypocritical? Because she herself could say rude words to someone and "joke" about my art (and there were already jokes at the level of the fact that when I drew the spear master in my imagination and there he had something like a skirt made of a piece of SRS fabric, she said that the spear master forcibly tore off this piece of fabric from him and when I said, that this was not the case and that it was done voluntarily, she said that "I like my version of events better." Excuse me, but what the hell?! ). In general, she was constantly offended by any trifle, presented herself as a victim and we had to endure her hot-tempered behavior, for which she NEVER apologized. Do you know why she left the group? Because once someone sent her shooting range list with ships with slugcats in Russian Discord server. Some of us were on this server, and when they noticed this, they sent her a screenshot and said, "Snake, did you send your tier list or did someone else do it?" She said that she did not do it. And one Of the members of our group, he said that he knew this person, found such a coincidence funny and began to laugh at it. That is, it had nothing to do with the Snake at all, the person was laughing not at her or her tier-list, but at the absurdity of the situation itself and the fact that he knew this person. But the Snake misunderstood everything, she thought that they were laughing at her, although we tried to explain to her that this was not the case and she left. And instead of keeping silent about this whole most stupid situation, she told about it in the tumblr and made the members of my group look bad and herself a victim. It's terrible. She did not think about the consequences of her actions, she never seemed to think about the consequences at all. But even after that, I tried to treat Snake well. She also wished my friend death once because he had created a meme for my band and one of her artworks appeared there for a few seconds. In this excerpt, no one insulted anyone or anything, this art was in the public domain, and this meme was not published anywhere outside of my group, which is a LOCAL place, and this meme is also LOCAL. But she somehow found out about this video, showed it in her telegram channel, got attached to the fact that no one has the right to use her art in anything like that, and, as I said, wished him dead.

But the last straw for me was that one day in her telegram channel the topic of discussing ships iterators and slugcats began, and one of my very good friends told Snake to just not pay attention to this if it is unpleasant for her to watch. Person expressed his NEUTRAL attitude towards all ships, but the Snake believed that she treats all ships POSITIVELY and that she supports ships with bestiality, pedophilia and incest, although she did not lay such thoughts. She doesn't care about these ships, but the Snake began to say how this person is disgusting. Another friend of mine, who has a real depression, stood up for my friend. And Snake in response literally sent him to hell. Moreover, before that, she left him to the mercy of fate, stopped supporting him in difficult times and, in principle, somehow communicating with him. The nickname of this person is "Just". That is, she began to insult two people who did NOTHING bad to the Snake, and one of the people had depression and she just sent them to hell. At the same time, she herself is offended by any "rude" word said to her. She is hypocritical... As a result, I got tired of enduring everything And after that incident we have stopped to communicate. If you don't believe me, I can provide screenshots with all the evidence.

[delicateflowerss]

Don't Worry, Darling: Three

After marrying the love of your life, Rafe Cameron, you thought you couldn't be happier. But when a murder shakes the island, you learn you don't know your husband as well as you thought. When does Paradise become Hell?

Warnings: 18+, eventual NON-CON, verbal/domestic abuse, dark!Rafe, mentions of murder, mentions of pregnancy/having kids, kook!reader, non-canon ages

Word Count: 3.9k

Series Masterlist

“So, let’s go over that again. You left the office around 11:30, correct?”

Shoupe’s stare is set on Rafe, almost like he’s waiting for your husband to blink at him wrong, anything to show he isn’t telling the truth.

“It was around that time. I don’t remember exactly.”

You can tell Rafe is fighting the urge to tell the police to fuck off, given the heavy annoyance lacing his tone. You worry he might, his impulse control only lasting so long.

Their incessant questions don’t help, going over every detail of the night Rafe last saw Chase alive.

It’s a strong case of déjà vu for you, Shoupe and the same officer as last time, sitting in the exact same spot on your couch. Except, you can feel the gravity of the situation now. A man you know has been killed.

“And nothing struck you as odd about Chase that night? All he said was bye as he was leaving?”

“That’s all I remember. How many times do I have to tell you I barely saw him that night?”

Whatever Rafe was holding back, he isn’t anymore, his anger getting the best of him. It doesn’t sit right with either officer, their meaningful glances toward each other telling you more than they’ll ever say.

As your eyes rake over your husband, you don’t know why he seems nervous, unable to stop the shake in his leg.

You reach your hand out, the denim of his pants rough under your skin as you stop the uneasy movement.

“I think what Rafe is trying to say, is he’s answered all of your questions, more than once,” you placate. “You seem to be wanting an answer he just doesn’t have.”

Rafe watches you, an appreciation shining in his eyes that he wouldn’t know how to voice to you.

“We would love to help any way we can. But he’s told you everything he knows.”

Shoupe mulls over your words, seeming almost annoyed that you’re making a good point.

“Fine,” he concedes, looking over both you and Rafe. “But if there’s anything you could possibly think of, you know where to find us,” he adds, standing up.

 “Of course,” you reply, showing them the way out.

“It’s important to us you find whoever did this,” you say, giving Rafe a pointed look, motioning toward the officers, needing him to show his support.

When he spots this, he nods. “Catch this guy before something else happens. Don’t put our tax dollars to waste.”

He keeps his eyes on Shoupe, his mouth fighting a smirk.

You don’t understand the exchange between the two men, Shoupe’s stare also heavy.

“That’s what we’re trying to do,” Shoupe finally retorts after a few tense moments. He’s the first one to look away, nodding toward you. “Have a good day, Mrs. Cameron.”

Once they’re gone, your eyes find your husband, brows pulled together.

“What was that about?” You ask, trying to find an explanation for his rude behavior.

“What?” Now his unpleasant mood is aimed at you, lips parted, brows matching yours, and you almost regret saying anything. “He’s wasting his time with me. He’s wasting my time. He could actually be out there, catching the person who did it.”

You take in his explanation, arms crossed, eyes glancing to the floor before meeting his.

“I get it. But they’re just doing their job,” you explain. “I mean Chase was murdered, Rafe. You know, the guy you used to see at work every day and liked to invite us over for dinner.”

You try to make it clear to him why he should think about someone besides himself.

He swallows at that, now it’s him who can’t meet your gaze.

You sigh, deciding it’s best to drop it. You know how Rafe is, how difficult it is for him to not only process his own emotions, but others as well.

You step closer, your hand finding his by his side, fingers threading together. You feel the cool touch of his gold, signet ring against your warm skin, along with his wedding ring.

He doesn’t move away, and you can’t help but think he looks like a scolded little boy as he finally looks up at you, hair failing into his eyes.

“I know this has been a lot for you,” you start. “You know you can always talk to me. About anything.”

You watch him, hoping he’ll finally open up to you about this whole situation.

Instead, he just nods, his hand falling from yours before he walks to the kitchen, finding his phone.

You have to stop yourself from sighing, showing your disappointment.

“I talked to my dad earlier,” he calls out, walking toward you with his phone in his hand. “He wants us over for dinner on Sunday. Something about wanting everyone together since Sarah’s back for the summer,” he mumbles the last part, and you can tell he’s trying his hardest not to roll his eyes.

“Oh, that should be nice. We haven’t been over there in a while.” You keep your tone optimistic, hoping it will influence his own outlook.

But by the look on Rafe’s face, it’s not working. He seems more distracted than anything else.

“I gotta take this,” he holds his phone up, excusing himself to his office upstairs.

You’re more than aware of Rafe’s strained relationship with his family. Part of you wants to tell him to forget about his father, thinking it would be best for him to release himself from the shackles of desperately vying for his father’s approval.

But you also know that this house didn’t pay for itself. Even if the name Cameron holds weight in certain places, you’d be lying if you said Rafe could get a job anywhere, especially as good as the one he has now.

You thought Rafe having to work for his father could only help the relationship, and it does seem like they’re friendlier to each other, Ward seeing his son as somewhat competent. But the pressure still lies on Rafe to be good enough.

So, all you can do is keep the peace.

Maybe you have your own motives to keep things nice between Rafe and his family. Sometimes, they feel like the only family you have, even if it’s a bit dysfunctional.

You’re an only child, and your parents decided when you moved out that they were going to spend most of their time on vacation, seeing the world they didn’t get to when you were growing up.

Right now, they’re on a Caribbean cruise, the last time you saw them being your wedding.

You miss them, but you don’t really blame them. Maybe you’ll feel the same one day, when your own children are grown up and married.

They were always extremely supportive of your relationship with Rafe, never seeing any issues. Their happiness at the possibility of their daughter marrying into the Cameron’s blinded them.

You’re glad they didn’t see the things you saw because they might not have been as forgiving. You saw firsthand how hard Rafe worked to clean up his addiction, and to stop the tendency to get into fights with Pogues.

But you wonder if they had known, would they have even batted an eye?

JJ doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to sitting in your kitchen. He thinks you’re only pretending not to notice how much he stands out, because you never seem bothered by it. You just smile as you hand him an ice-cold drink. This time, it’s iced tea.

You were folding laundry when you heard JJ slip into the backyard. This time, he didn’t put up a fight, letting you invite him in.

“So,” you say, sitting across from him at the kitchen table. “I heard Sarah’s back for the summer. Is she still with John B?”

“I thought you were her sister-in-law or whatever, wouldn’t you know?” He asks, taking a long sip of his drink.

“Yeah, well, Rafe and Sarah don’t really talk.”

JJ raises his eyebrows, humming, an understanding washing over his face.

“They’re still together. She’s over at The Chateau almost every day now,” he answers.

You smile, nodding. “So, you still see your friends a lot?”

You were pretty removed from the people Sarah started hanging out with during her high school years. They were younger…and they were Pogues. But you cared about her enough to want to know about her friends.

You also knew them for other reasons, ones having to do with a dumb rivalry stemming from your husband’s hatred of Pogues.

You never got to know any of them, talking to John B the most out of all of them.

Until now.

“Yeah. Everyone’s doing their own thing now, but we get together all the time,” he casually says.

“I’m glad to hear that. I remember you all being so close.”

“Hm.” He stops, his brow furrowing. “You remember that before or after we would get the shit kicked out of us by Rafe?”

Your smile falters, eyes finding the surface of the table.

Before you can say anything, he continues, “but he’s different now. So, I should just forget about it.”

Sarcasm drips from his tone, using your own words against you. He raises his eyebrows again, taking another sip, making his point.

“I never said you should forget about it,” you scoff. “I know what Rafe did was wrong. Do you hold what he did against Sarah too?”

“You can’t choose your family,” he shrugs. “I mean she barely talks to him as it is. You married him.” He pauses, blue eyes staring into you. “That means you looked at all that, and thought, I want to be with this guy for the rest of my life.”

He immediately begins to feel bad when you frown. He sighs, realizing he took it too far.

“I’m sorry, okay?” He apologizes bluntly. “You seem nice and all, I just can’t trust someone who’s married to Rafe Cameron,” JJ explains.

“You don’t have to trust me,” you level with him. “And I can apologize for all of Rafe’s wrongdoings over and over again, because I am sorry. But is that really going to make you feel better?”

He looks to his lap, bottom lip between his teeth. He knows you’re being sincere, your eyes genuinely curious.

“You’re right, there’s no point in holding it against you,” he admits quietly.

You nod, taking a moment before saying, “Good, because I actually like talking to you, for some reason,” you add the last part with a smile on your face.

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard anyone say that to me before,” he says with a smile, the same joking tone.

You’ve been to Tannyhill more times than you could count, and it never fails to impress you.

Rafe has told you more than once, usually when he has a few drinks in him, that one day it will be “ours.” You think it’s somewhat morbid that he’s waiting for the day his father can’t physically have it anymore. But you also can’t help but feel a glimmer of anticipation about being able to call it yours.

As you walk side by side, you can feel the nervousness radiating off of Rafe, even if he tries his hardest to stamp it down.

You say his name, stopping a few feet from the front door, turning toward him.

He looks at you, a question in his eyes.

Before he can say anything, you bring your hands to his firm chest, smoothing out the black polo shirt he’s wearing. You feel him let out a sigh.

“Babe-.”

You cut him off with a kiss, lashes fluttering against his cheek.

“I just wanted to do that before we went in there,” you quietly say against his lips when you break apart.

You get your satisfaction when his lips turn up into a smile.

But your attention is quickly moved when you hear the door creak open.

“Dad said to get the door,” Wheezie says timidly, eyes shifting around.

You meet Rafe’s eyes again, both of you hiding your laughs.

“Hi, Wheezie,” you greet, walking into the cool air of the house.

You hear Rafe say the same right behind you, shutting the door.

“Are you still taking me shopping before Midsummers?” She doesn’t waste a second to excitedly ask you. “Sarah’s too busy and I’d rather go with you than Rose.”

She grimaces at the mention of her stepmother.

“I’ve been looking forward to it. Why don’t we go sometime this week?”

You don’t notice how Rafe watches you make plans with his little sister, an indescribable emotion swimming in his blue eyes.

“We were wondering when you’d get here,” a booming voice announces.

Ward walks into the room with a grin on his face.

“How you doing, sweetheart?” he asks, pulling you into a hug.

“I’m doing good. Nice to see you, Ward,” you reply, still smiling.

As he steps away from you, you notice how Rafe shifts a little, standing up straighter.

“Hi, Dad.”

“Son,” is all Ward says, patting Rafe on the back, his smile more tight-lipped now.

They share a look, something wordless between them before Ward turns to you.

“Rose is in the kitchen, getting dinner ready. And Sarah should be down soon. I’m just going to borrow Rafe for a few minutes. I hope you don’t mind,” he checks with you, eyebrows raised.

“No, go ahead,” you nod, watching them head toward his office.

“I’ll go see what Sarah’s doing,” Wheezie says, also going upstairs, leaving you to wander into the kitchen.

It’s not uncommon for Ward to pull Rafe aside to have a conversation, usually about work. But the glance they gave each other was tense, a seriousness there that you don’t know the reason for.

“This looks delicious, Rose. You’ll have to give me the recipe,” you comment, staring at the sauce she’s stirring.

“My mother used to make this all the time. One of my favorites,” she remarks before being interrupted by Sarah barreling her way toward you.

“There’s my favorite sister-in-law,” she calls out, wrapping her arms around you.

“I’m your only sister-in-law,” you say, laughing, squeezing her back.

“Well, I still think if you really wanted to see me all the time, you didn’t have to marry Rafe to do it.” Amusement dances on her lips. “You could’ve saved yourself a lot of trouble,” she says, trying not to burst out laughing.

“What? You mean, I didn’t have to do that.” Your tone matches hers, and she’s the first one to laugh as you step away from the heat of the kitchen.

“So, tell me all about your first year at UNC?” You ask, eyes on her.

“It was good,” she says with a lack of truthfulness, her furrowed brow giving her away.

“Are you sure?”

She shakes her head, looking around to make sure she’s out of Rose’s earshot.

“I don’t know. I’m just not sure if college is for me,” Sarah says quietly. You nod and she continues, “I just would rather be doing something else with my life. Not being stuck in a classroom with a bunch of other rich kids who are just going to end up working for their fathers.”

You raise your eyebrows, the implication of her words not lost on you.

“Sorry,” she draws back. “That was harsh.”

“No, I get it. You want something different.”

“Yeah. And I want to be with people I actually like.”

“Like John B?”

An involuntary smile makes her lips twitch as she looks down, her cheeks turning rosy.

“Yes, like John B,” she admits, not fighting her smile anymore. “And before you say anything, I know what it sounds like,” she pauses, staring directly at you. “But I won’t be dropping out of college for a boy. It’s for a lot of reasons.”

“I mean, even if that were the case. I can’t really judge you, can I?” You ask, thinking of your own past, and how picking a school was completely dependent on Rafe. “I think you should do what makes you happy.”

“Can you explain that to my dad now?” She jokes, but her smile is appreciative, like it’s all she needed to hear.

Rafe didn’t say much by the time he came back from his dad’s office, just sitting down for dinner like everyone else. You want to ask him about it, but you know it’s best to let him tell you first.

You all eat under incandescent lighting from the chandelier, shining off the silverware and fine china. There has been slight small talk, but things shift when Ward clears his throat from the head of the table, setting down his fork.

“I just want to say, how grateful I am to have the whole family here, together. The year’s not even close to over, and I don’t know if I can express how proud I am.”

Emotion seeps through his words as his eyes rake over the table, everyone intently listens.

“Sarah just completed her first year at college, with straight A’s,” he adds, his smile only growing bigger. Sarah returns the expression, but you can see the slight insincerity to it.

“We also, officially, welcomed Y/N to the family. Of course, I would say she’s been part of this family for years.”

You sheepishly smile, catching Rafe’s eye.

“And Rafe,” he pauses, staring at his son. “Rafe has been working very hard in his position at Cameron Development. Harder than almost anyone, and I’m not just saying that.” He laughs a little. “That’s why, I’ve decided to make him Cameron Development’s new Chief Operating Officer.”

Your lips part with surprise, quickly turning into a smile as you put an arm around Rafe’s shoulders, placing a kiss on his cheek.

“I’m so proud of you,” you whisper, catching the happiness in his eyes.

“I won’t let you down,” he tells his dad.

Wheezie smiles, thinking it must be a big deal, Sarah doesn’t look impressed, and Rose just casually sips her wine.

“Now, I’m not saying I’m expecting any, but maybe an announcement about a grandchild before the end of the year would be nice,” Ward says, half-jokingly.

Your first instinct is to tense up, even if you try not to, your arm moving so just your palm lies on Rafe’s back.

“I think that very well could happen,” Rafe practically promises.

Your face falls a little, trying to keep a sense of lightheartedness in your voice.

“Well, maybe not this year.”

Rafe turns to you at that, giving you a look only you can see. But he bites his tongue from saying anything.

Ward doesn’t push further, saying he’s happy as long as he gets a grandchild. But the damage is done, Rafe not meeting your eyes for the rest of dinner.

Another silent car ride, this time, you can feel the minutes pass by. Rafe doesn’t say a word to you, and honestly, you’re grateful, knowing you don’t want to argue while he’s behind the wheel.

You dread the moment you get home, but at this point, you should be angrier than he is.

He’s still not talking to you when you get home, setting his things down before going upstairs.

He’s almost casual in his actions, but you can tell by the tightness of his jaw and how he can’t look at you, that he’s upset.

You follow him upstairs, repeating his name.

“Rafe,” you call out. “You’re going to have to talk to me. You can’t just give me the silent treatment.”

You find him in the bedroom you two share, slipping off his shoes.

He finally looks at you, and his eyes are ablaze.

“Did you have to say that?” He bitterly asks.

“Say what? The truth?” Your tone matches his. “I just don’t understand why you’re mad. Do you really not want your family to know we’re waiting?”

His teeth sink into his bottom lip, like he doesn’t believe what you’re saying.

“It’s embarrassing, Y/N,” he spits out.

“Embarrassing?” You ask, unsure if you heard him correctly. “It’s embarrassing that your wife gets to decide when she wants to have a baby?”

“That’s not what I meant.” He shakes his head but doesn’t explain further.

“Then what do you mean?” You press.

“It-It’s embarrassing that it looks like we’re not on the same page,” he finally explains, flexing his fingers.

“I agree, Rafe. Then why did you say that? Why did you agree with him when you know I want to wait?”

“Exactly. You want to wait.”

You’re left speechless by his implication, lip almost trembling while you take in his words. This is the first time you’re hearing of this, but you realize certain comments you brushed off might have meant he wanted a baby sooner than later.

“Honestly, it sounds like you don’t want kids at all,” he continues. His face is twisted up, pacing back and forth away from you.

“What?” You ask, your brows knitted together. “I do, you know I do. I just want to be able to grow my career before we have any. You know that.”

“What career?”

You start to feel your chest getting tighter.

“What?”

“You sit at a computer a few times a week. How is that stopping you from having a baby?”

You can feel your eyes starting to sting, not being able to remember a time where Rafe said something so hurtful to you.

“Rafe…” You start.

He shrugs his shoulders. “It sounds like an excuse to me.”

You shake your head, eyes getting glassy.

“Just because you got promoted, doesn’t mean you get to tell me my job doesn’t mean anything.” Rage runs through your voice. “And I hate to say it, but you only have that job for one reason. At least I got my job through my own hard work.”

As soon as the words leave your mouth, regret fills you.

Somehow his eyes harden even more as he steps closer to you.

“You mean the job you barely get any money from?” He asks, getting closer until you have no choice but to step back, your body hitting the wall behind you. “Remind me, who paid for this house? Or for your clothes? Or for-for that stupid soap you insist on ordering from France?”

He’s almost spitting in your face as you feel your shoulders dig into the wall.

“Who paid for all of that?” His voice is loud as he asks again, his fingers still flexing and unflexing as you look up at him with tearful eyes.

It feels like an eternity before you answer.

“Your father,” you rasp out.

You watch in fear as he takes a step back from you, his breathing getting rougher before his fist collides with the wall next to your head.

You flinch, moving your face away as you feel his arm almost graze you.

Tears fall freely from your eyes as he tries to steady his breathing, glancing at his red knuckles.

Finally, you see the realization hit him, his eyes softening at your cowering figure right next to the hole in the wall he made.

“Y/N-.” He begins, stepping closer to you.

“Don’t,” you yell, holding up a hand and stopping him.

He tries to say something, but you speak instead.

“Just go away,” you urge him, and after a moment, he does, leaving you at the scene of the crime.

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[rotworld]

19: Fairy Tale

art by @exorbitantsqueakingnoises

you've forgotten your wild night at a fae festival a week ago, but it remembers you.

->original work. explicit; contains non-con, (magical) drugging/date rape, graphic descriptions of violence, terato, feral behavior, hard vore.

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Your day has been going suspiciously well. 

Despite being a ball of nerves the night before, you wake early and well-rested. Your morning commute is a comfortable train ride and leisurely walk through perfect autumn crispness, the air cool and the leaves colorful. Even the communal breakroom snacks are shockingly delicious today, an assortment of artful chocolate-drizzled, fruit-topped and sugar-powdered pastries almost too pretty to eat, although your coworkers have already decimated the macarons by the time you get there.

Then again, maybe there’s nothing suspicious about it. You’ve been overly cautious ever since the Equinox Faire for reasons that are far too embarrassing to explain to anyone else. You’d have to admit you went to the Faire in the first place—which is fine, by the way, there's nothing wrong with going to a Faire, it’s just not the kind of thing you feel like casually mentioning to your coworkers—and then you’d have to mention that you don’t even remember half of it. Drank so much you got violently ill and then stumbled home by some miracle, waking up in a daze on your living room floor. 

You think something bad happened there, or almost did. Hard to say for sure. Everything’s a blur after sunset. There was live music and handicrafts and some of the most incredible food you’ve ever tasted, sweet, savory, still sizzling fresh off the grill. You met people, danced, partied hard, lost a shoe. Kind of a shame, those were your most comfortable pair of sandals. You have the distinct impression that you hooked up with someone, or tried to. Getting sick in the grass might’ve cut things short. But you woke up with the worst hangover of your life and twenty browser tabs open on your phone with searches like “howf to kno if you rhome for real not a trick/?” and “magic itw ont come off what do u do whenkmlj that happen” and most ominously, “get uncursed.” 

You have no idea what happened or with who, but you do remember that unpleasant tugging sensation the morning after like you were wearing an extra, ill-fitted layer of skin. The internet says that particular blend of bleary exhaustion, lightheadedness and the tactile static of invisible cobwebs is a pretty common sign of residual magic. Someone tried casting a clingy spell, something meant to linger on a person for a while, but it sloughed off for some reason. You’ve been braced every day since for something catastrophic to happen. So far, nothing has. Maybe it was the hangover after all, or maybe it was something you drank. Some people have bad reactions to enchanted wine. You certainly weren’t going slow enough to notice. 

So despite a persistent sense of unease, malaise and waiting for the other shoe to drop so palpable you can barely sit still, you tell you coworkers you’re doing “Great!” and join the pastry huddle by the breakroom counter.

“Is it somebody’s birthday? Who brought these?” James asks, staring contemplatively into the cream filling of his second chocolate eclair. “They’re so good. Like, too good. Are they supposed to be here?” 

Francine shrugs. “Too late now. If DeVries comes out of his office looking for these, he’s gonna have to fight me to death for this tiramisu.”

Harper picks up the half-empty box of cannoli and turns it around a few times before she finds a logo in one of the corners. Her eyes widen. “Seelie Confectionaries. Holy shit, this is expensive.”

“It’s fae food?” James stops chewing abruptly, holding the eclair away from his face like it might bite. “Is it safe? What if it’s enchanted?” 

“It’s for sure enchanted. Not like that, though. It’s just for taste.” Harper shrugs and grabs a cannoli. “I took a fae studies class forever ago. ‘Enchanted’ just means there’s magic in it. All the stuff they ship across the Veil is super strictly regulated—”

“Holy shit. Who is that?” Francine asks. She’s staring past all of you, looking at the breakroom TV on the back wall where the news has been playing at an inaudible murmur. It’s midday and there’s no bright red “BREAKING NEWS” label at the bottom so you’re expecting something inconsequential; local sports, small business puff pieces, cats being cute. You’re not prepared to see the most beautiful man alive smiling serenely into the camera. He’s standing in a park beside a starstruck reporter who can’t stop sneaking glances out of the corner of her eye. He sticks out against a backdrop of college students and dog-walkers in a double-breasted vest made of shimmering brocade, dark green with silver buttons and intricate floral patterns. The long-sleeved dress shirt underneath is shiny black silk with lace at the ends of the sleeves. His hair is midnight blue and long enough to pull back into a neat bun at the base of his neck, the silver pin holding it in place shaped like a wilting rose.

Long lashes, smokey blue eyeshadow, bright amber eyes—you’re getting the itch of deja vu in the back of your brain. Haven’t you seen this guy before?

“Goth or demon fresh out of conservatory?” James wonders. “Take your bets.” 

Harper squints at the TV. “Neither. He’s fae. See the brooch? That’s a guise stabilizer.” 

She’s right. It’s pinned to his left lapel, a silver circle of delicate metalwork and tiny pearls. You can barely see the green flecks pressed and preserved inside the rounded glass in the middle, but they’re definitely tiny leaves. 

Then he’s gone and there’s a slow panning shot of an open field instead. A field that looks eerily familiar, you think. Francine searches frantically for the remote because the caption at the bottom hasn’t changed: “SOCIALITE’S SEARCH FOR LOVE SPARKS NATIONAL SHOE-SHOPPING FRENZY.”

“What do you suppose that means?” Harper muses.

“Not a fucking clue,” James says. “Isn’t that the fairgrounds?”

“Ohhh, I think you’re right! Wasn’t that big festival thing going on out there last weekend?” Francine asks. 

Harper snorts. “You mean the orgy?” You choke on a bite of bread.

“No way,” James says.

“Okay, it’s not literally an orgy but there’s a lot of sex. That’s like half the reason people go.”

“Isn’t it dangerous? Like, super dangerous? With all the enchanted food and stuff.” 

“James, listen, enchantment like the way you’re thinking isn’t something you just sprinkle in real quick. It’s a whole process. They have to know who you are and want to fuck with you specifically—”

Francine nudges you in the side. “You ever heard of anything like this?”

“Absolutely never in my whole life,” you say, coughing.

The camera cuts again and the beautiful man is back again, speaking into the microphone. Francine finds the remote just in time and starts cranking up the volume until you can actually hear what he’s saying. “…don’t often attend events of this nature very often, as you might imagine. But something was different this year. I felt uniquely compelled, as though something was waiting for me…”

Harper makes a joke about him being uniquely compelled by his dick but you’re no longer paying attention to the breakroom conversation. It’s like a dam breaks in your mind. Glimpses and snapshots suddenly come rushing back just from hearing his voice. The night was warm and flickering. Your eyes met across a bonfire. He wore nothing but full-bloom flowers and colorful, rumpled lichen, the forest wrapped around him in winding stripes like a lover’s grasping fingers. His hair was down, waist-length, a woven cord of flowering, leafy vines crowning his head. His hips swayed and his fingers curled under your chin, drawing your gaze up to meet his. 

“My name is Imraude,” he said in a low, seductive purr. “And you are going to be mine.” 

On TV, the camera zooms out slightly to get both him and the reporter in frame when she tilts the microphone back to ask a question. Your attention is drawn immediately to his hands, not resting at his sides but holding something the tender, gentle way a person holds a priceless glass sculpture or a kitten.

That’s a sandal. That’s your sandal. Uh oh, you think.

“And this is all you have to work with?” the reporter asks.

Imraude chuckles. “Yes, this is it. It’s common practice to use aliases or nicknames at a Faire and I don’t begrudge them for being cautious. It does make this much more difficult, though. I know how absurd these public appeals must seem, but I truly am desperate. I would do anything to see them again. We had something special, and I think they know it, too.” 

It was lust at first sight. He was gorgeous, and he must’ve thought you were, too. You drifted back to the refreshments table together to chat and make sure you were both on the same page and his hand settled on your thigh. He was insistent—relentless—that you eat something. “I intend to keep you as long as I can,” he murmured. “You’ll need your strength.” It should’ve been fine. Faire food gets inspected. But did those buttery pieces of bread he pressed against your lips come from the feast on the table or somewhere else? What about those fresh, juicy berries, sweet and tart as he fed them into your mouth with his tongue? You were already tipsy at least and he told you the arcadian wine was the finest vintage you’d ever taste. You were in his lap, you think. You were eating out of his hand and he was purring praise in your ear when everything started to blur. 

“In some ways,” the reporter says, snapping you out of a daze, “your strategy has backfired, hasn’t it? Saying you’re looking for the owner of the other shoe has a lot of eager bachelors and bachelorettes snapping up the exact same design. Stores across the country have completely exhausted their stock.” Unbelievable images of local shoe stores with empty spaces in the sandal section fade in one after the other, followed by online listings going for tens of thousands of dollars. You can’t believe what you’re saying. They’re not some designer brand. They’re just what you had lying around for a night out when you wanted to be comfortable and blend in with the easygoing atmosphere.

“I’m not worried about it,” Imraude assures her. He looks directly into the camera and you stop breathing. “They were unforgettable. When I see their face, I’ll know.”

You remember now. The meadow—not the fairgrounds. He brought you somewhere else. You’d looked up at the sky and even inebriated, even giggling and stumbling and feeling a little sick to your stomach, you’d noticed it wasn’t right. You could barely see it, could barely see straight at all, but you remember how your skin crawled when you looked up and couldn’t recognize the thing you saw every night. Imraude kissed you. He licked into your mouth and clutched your hips against his, and you moaned into his mouth. You tried to touch him—to pull him closer? To push him away? You remember wanting him so badly it scared you. 

But you couldn’t move. Why couldn’t you move? Your arms were stuck in the air above your head and your legs wouldn’t budge. Imraude stroked your shoulders and caressed your sides and dug his fingers into your ass—all at the same time. That doesn’t make sense. You were drunk and it was dark. Is that it? It feels like you’re still forgetting something. 

“Don’t be afraid,” he said. You remember that. Such a gentle whisper right against your ear, but he was rough with you. He grasped you too hard with fingers that were too sharp and too many. He wanted to leave marks. “Ones only we can see,” he promised, smiling against the nervous flutter of your pulse. “So the hungry ones know who you belong to.” He bit you, over and over and over again. Sunk his fangs in—his fangs? Too sharp to be teeth, too thin and precise. It felt sharp and horrible, and then it faded to prickling pins and needles. Tactile static. Tingling, then numb, then good. 

No one has ever fucked you as hard as him. If you’re lucky, no one ever will again. The more you think about it, the more you wonder how you managed to walk away. He was right up against you, fucking you standing. You couldn’t make your body do anything but he was in complete control. He curled his fingers and your legs wrapped around his waist, and then he was thrusting fast enough to knock the breath out of your lungs. His hands cupped your ass and he panted in your ear about how he would fill you every morning, day and night for the rest of time. 

“I will have you,” he murmured. “Your body first. Then your mind. Then your heart.”

He made you ride him. He watched you bounce on his cock while his long, spindly fingers explored the expanse of your chest, groping, caressing, teasing your nipples. He lingered whenever he found something that made you gasp and clench around him, mercilessly exploiting every weakness. You were barely conscious. Your eyelids fluttered and struggled to stay upright. He didn’t care. He tugged your wrist to his mouth and sank his fangs in. 

Or did he bite down, and tear a whole chunk of flesh from your body? He couldn’t have. You don’t have a scar there, not even a puncture. But you remember pain, searing, radiating, the rhythmic sting every time your heart pumped and more blood gushed out, and the redness of his lips as he drank everything that poured out with a groan. 

He fucked you on the forest floor. Had he always been so much bigger than you? You were face-down, your back arched and your hips raised while he pounded into you, a hand on the nape of your neck and a hand on your shoulder and a hand on your hip and a hand stroking your side and more still that are just ghosts of memory. You were bleeding. You were raw and aching everywhere. He was devouring you and you were on the verge of climax with every crunching, flesh-tearing bite. Your stomach churns thinking about it. Was that real, or a nightmare? It’s so vivid in your mind. 

Imraude, with your ankles hooked over his shoulders. He bent you in half so he could kiss you while he rutted slow and deep. 

Imraude, with your neck between his teeth. You trembled and you wept and your head lolled back against his shoulder when his tongue dipped into the wound. 

Imraude, with hands uncountable. He handled you like a doll, a plaything meant for nothing more than his amusement and pleasure. 

Imraude, with—you can’t remember. It hurts to try. You think you saw something you weren’t supposed to. He didn’t make sense. When you saw the haunting, animalistic gleam of reflected moonlight, was that in just two eyes or in four? In six? In more?

He liked to finish inside you. Clutching you by the thighs and hips and stomach and shoulders, he impaled you on a long, thick cock with bumps and ridges and a slender tip that reached uncomfortably deep, and he came for such a long time that you thought you’d never be empty again. Thick, white seed squelched around his length and dripped down your inner thighs as he kept humping and grinding into your trembling body. 

His voice didn’t sound human. It hadn’t since he lured you away from the fairgrounds. It was warped and echoing in your head, unnaturally deep and lightly melodic. “Does it feel good to belong to me?” he purred. “If it doesn’t yet…it will. I promise.”

You should be dead. You’re sure of it. You were more wounds than flesh when he filled you one last time. You shivered and you oozed. Imraude’s tongue filled your mouth as he pulled out one horrible, stinging inch at a time, slipping free from your abused entrance with a sickening squelch and a trickle of cum. He smoothed his palms over all the places you hurt and stole the pain. You felt distinctly that it wasn’t right. It wasn’t real healing. You had gaping holes inside of you, places where he’d stolen something. And then—he left you. Said he’d “prepare the way,” or something like that. The air quivered like a heat haze and then he was gone. 

You rolled onto your side, heaving and retching, clutching your stomach. You tasted bile and acid. Everything you’d eaten at the refreshment table came back up in a stinging watercolor slurry. You felt awful. You wanted to curl up and rot. Fear drove you, hand over hand, one bruised knee and then the other. You crawled out of the meadow. You don’t know where you went or how long it took you to get there, but you knew you had to keep moving. There’s a chasm of time missing; of horrible, furious noises that made the forest shake and the scrape of your fingers through dirt, on and on until they found concrete. You’ll probably never remember everything he did trying to chase you down, but it didn’t matter. With all the food out of your system, the enchantment didn’t stick. He could purr and plead and growl all he wanted, but you were going home. 

“No fucking way,” Francine says. “This can’t be real. His one night stand was gone when he woke up, so now he’s on the news? Make a Craigslist post like a normal person.” 

“He’s rich,” Harper reasons. “Probably paid them to air it. A lot of the fae who end up at the Faire are rich kids from old money. Kind of crazy his family runs that Seelie snack company, though. You think he’s sending out gift boxes everywhere, or does he think his Cinderella works here?”

James tosses his eclair into the trash. “Nope. Too fucking weird. Not eating any more of these.”

You stop chewing. With a sick feeling churning in your stomach, you take another look at the pastry boxes. They’re not in pristine condition anymore, but you see the fanciful wrapping paper crumpled in the trash and the ribbons that had been tied around them. There’s a card in there, too, thoughtlessly discarded. Your name is not on that card.

But your nickname—the one you used at the Faire—is, along with a black heart. 

“You okay?” Harper asks. She’s looking at you. They’re all looking, with worry and confusion. 

You don’t even make an excuse. You just run. Out of the breakroom, through the hall, flinging yourself down the stairs two at a time until you hit the bottom, trying to figure out what comes next. You go home, right? Then what? Pack a bag and go on the run? It’s a coincidence. It’s a wild guess. He can’t know. You emerge in the company lobby where a small circle of people from another department are clustered around the receptionist’s desk chattering excitedly. You see a figure taller than the others. Dark blue hair. Bright yellow eyes. A smile that snags at your heart like a fish hook.

He turns towards you and you catch the briefest glimpse of that wild, possessive hunger you saw the Faire. 

“Darling,” he purrs, your missing sandal clutched in one hand. “It’s so nice to see you again.”

[wangxianficrecs]

Follower Recs

~*~

for the summer recs!! written by our lovely mod kay!! - Anon

[Kay: Thank you so much! I really appreciate it!! 💙]

A heartwrenching start for this series, where Lan Zhan has to deal with the truth regarding his mother's death, and his feelings regarding his family and brother for keeping such information from him, and being responsible for her situation, one way or another.

Personally, Lan Wangji having to deal with the pitfalls of his sect rules, philosophy and behavior is one of my favorite kinds of angst, that can be explored in some many different ways, and I would like to see more.

close the door behind me, i'm leaving

by thelastdboy (@thelastdboyy)

M, 3k, Lan Wangji

Summary: “Wangji,” his uncle began and came over to where Lan Wangji stood. “You have grown up. I am proud of the man you have become,” Lan Qiren said, unusually sentimental – another fact that made alarm bells ring inside Lan Wangji's mind. From the inside of his jacket, his uncle pulled an inconspicuous envelope and handed it to Lan Wangji. “You're old enough to learn the truth about your parents. You mother wrote this letter to you before her death. Your brother wanted me to wait a little a longer until I give this to you, but it is time,” he explained and stepped outside as well.

~*~

The follow up of Lan Wangji's turmoil surrounding his sect, brings him to Yiling, where he finds mysterious and unorthodox Wei Wuxian.

In a masterfully done transposition of the mdzx worldbuilding into a modern setting, Lan Zhan has to battle with his presumptions and prejudices and his continuous desires when it comes to Wei Wuxian ft. Xiao Xingchen and Song Lan with mentions of or favorite yiling siblings Wen Qing and Wei NIng.

An honorable mention for the author's delightful worldbuilding regarding the Burial Mounds and Wei Wuxian, which comes in various of their works and I'm always so excited to see explored.

on my wei

by thelastdboy (@thelastdboyy)

M, 23k, Wangxian & Songxiao

Summary: The driver fell silent for a moment, as if remembering something unpleasant. “The Yiling Laozu is still driving through this area though. You're a cultivator, right? You dress like one anyway. Then maybe try to reach him. He was one too. Earned his money as a driver though. Died during the earthquake. Now he's haunting the streets. Some say, he messed around with the Burial Mounds and that caused the earthquake! I mean, aren't we unfortunate enough already here in Yiling? What are the chances that a quake hits here of all places?" (Or: in the aftermath of an earthquake, the Burial Mounds start spreading and the cultivation world turns a blind eye, but Lan Wangji cannot.)

~*~

(Please REBLOG as a signal boost for this hard-working author if you like – or think others might like – these stories.)

[yourbloodysunrise]

Sundrop I just had just ask for the same OC again istg-

Btw the OC's name is Yuzhao, and all-

And I've been cooking up some more lore so buckle up it's gonna be long (I'm so sorry😭):

You know Tripitaka tried to correct and help Sun Wukong in the JTW? (We get hints of that in LMK) Well imagine that, but with the First Spinjutsu Master as Tripitaka and Yuzhao as SW, after lots, lots, and I mean a lot of attempted murders from Yuzhao's parts they eventually became friends, and FSM began telling him about the vision and prophecies he had.

One of them being that a (insert element) master would one day beat him when the time came.

So basically after being freed the reason he became interested in the Ninjas is because of that prophecy, knowing they were the one.

Except he's not mad, buddy became so strong that he want someone to be challenge him so psychotically bad that instead of stopping that prophecy he keeps pushing it.

Though he forgets the difference between mortal and immortal and may or may not put them in deadly situation thinking it won't harm them much.

So (pls pls pls?) write a headcannon of it with the Ninjas?? Like each Ninja you're writing for is the one the prophecy is talking about, eventually he explains the prophecy to them by accident in the most comic way possible.

You can add Garmadon and Wu but instesd of the prophecy talking about them it's about Lloyd, and how they would react to how Yuzhao acts towards Lloyd, and yes they are unaware of the prophecy but FSM did give them some hints in the past 👀👀

Ik ik it's a lot but my brain keeps cooking up scenarios and your writing is just so goooood.

🌤 — too many letters, more than four letters don't digest: meow

🌤 — ok, ok, just kidding :) idea sounds cool, so I tried my best. I decided to combine these two requests, I hope you two don't mind. enjoy <3

THAT'S PART TWO, PART ONE IS THERE! ゜・。。・゜🌌

❝ Is it possible to change fate? ❞

— FANDOM: NINJAGO

— PAIRING: MAIN NINJAS(+MASTER WU&MASTER GARMADON) x MALE!OC

— PLATONIC

— HEADCANONS

— TW: BAD ENGLISH, BAD GRAMMAR, OOC, CONTAIN SPOILERS, IT'S LIKE CONTINUATION OF PART ONE, YUZHAO IS STILL CALLED "YOU" SO IT WILL BE EASIER FOR PEOPLE TO READ IT, I THOUGHT IT WOULD BE FUN TO PUT LLOYD NEAR THE END AND I DO THAT, SLIGHT ANGST BUT NOTHING TOO SERIOUS

NYA:

☆ ┈ She's still not thrilled with you, but over time she starts to soften up a little towards you.

☆ ┈ How long has it been since you were released? A week, a month, or maybe six months already? Nya lost track of time.

☆ ┈ She just got used to you. Your seemingly eternally annoying behavior begins to seem to her not so unbearable.

☆ ┈ ..No, seriously, Nya herself is surprised that she has become more tolerant to you.

☆ ┈ And yet, this does not mean that there will be no conflicts between you two.

☆ ┈ I just imagine that because of how much time you spent sealed away, you could forget about the prophecy for a while.

☆ ┈ Your constant attempts to challenge her are boring to her. If she accepts them and loses, it will hit her significantly, and she will start training harder.

☆ ┈ I still think that you still remember the difference between mortals and immortals, trying not to harm them too much if you do fight.

☆ ┈ She freaks out at the fact that you can beat her so easily, and you remind her of it. It brings back unpleasant memories for her, mostly those when others decided what to do and who to be.

☆ ┈ Nya is a person of will, she wants to prove to you that she may not be stronger than you, but she is able to defeat you. This is how her intense training begins.

☆ ┈ She tries to occupy herself with all she can do: improving physical fitness, training her element powers, maybe she will try to learn how to use Spinjitzu more in time. I wouldn't be surprised if she even resorted to Airjitsu again.

☆ ┈ Others start to worry about her 'cause she is overworking herself significantly. You are just watching from the sidelines, thinking about how soon the moment will come when the prophecy will come true.

☆ ┈ One day, while Nya was training, you were resting near her, watching her. Admittedly, the training has paid off. She became stronger than before…

— "I wonder.."

— "About what?" — she asks you, out of breath from the physical exertion, but continues to train.

— "When you will defeat me. You know, the prophecy that one day Master of Water will defeat me, blah blah blah..."

☆ ┈ Nya will probably stop at the same moment and look at you with a confused look. Are you again messing with her?

☆ ┈ Looking at your serious face, she gets tense..If this is true, will she really become so powerful one day that she can defeat you?

☆ ┈ She turns her head away from you, shaking it. Defeat a damn strong demon? It definitely sounds like a silly legend, but..

☆ ┈ She looks at her calloused hands, tired from frequent workouts.

☆ ┈ Well, if this is true, then it's would be hard to stop the prophecy…

☆ ┈ But, you know what? She doesn't will trying to escape it. Nya don't mind show you what she really can do.

JAY:

☆ ┈ Jay is not completely sure what he thinks about you. You seem to get along well, but still sometimes you can be annoying to him..

☆ ┈ Maybe when you offer him a fight, he reminds you of how powerful you and complains about that, while you listen to him with that face: 🙂

☆ ┈ Jay can accept the challenge, but it will end in literally nothing. Let me remind you that you is still stronger than him, and the ninjas is unlikely to be able to defeat you :^

☆ ┈ The problem is that Jay refuses to give up. Even if he falls, feeling pain and fatigue after the battle, he will still force himself to stand up, no matter how much he wants to stay in place. He just doesn't want to let himself lose.

☆ ┈ Flashbacks from his bad times, flashbacks from his bad times, somebody call an ambulance...

☆ ┈ Generally speaking, at some point you unanimously agree to a draw. Jay is mostly because he is so damn tired, and you are because you are tired of watching him force himself to fight.

☆ ┈ Considering that he refuses to give up, you involuntarily remind yourself of the prophecy. Right now, Jay may not be strong enough to really take you down, but who knows, maybe he'll be able to do it soon?

☆ ┈ Imagine that Jay is quietly training with others, and you are somewhere in the background cheering him on as if he is fighting for the whole Ninjago.

— "Come on, hit harder! That's it! Beat it up like you're beating me up!"

— "..What."

— "Well, you know, like in that prophecy where I'm supposed to be struck down by Master of Lightning...Don't get distracted!"

☆ ┈ Jay may first think that you were just joking, and most likely one day he will casually joke about it. I just imagine how you laughed loudly at first, before stopping and saying through laughter that "by the way, it's true fr fr :)"

☆ ┈ I sincerely believe that Jay will be confused by this news.

☆ ┈ First of all, WHY DID YOU DECIDE TO TELL HIM ABOUT IT JUST NOW??? Secondly, what is the probability that this prophecy will come true?..

☆ ┈ The whole point is that Jay doesn't really want to fight with you. He doesn't really believe that he can beat you, and he even managed to get a little attached to you.

☆ ┈ To put it simply, Jay hopes that the prophecy will not come true. He doesn't know what to do to prevent it from happening, so he can only hope.

☆ ┈ I wonder if it will come to the point that the prophecy really could not come true?..

KAI:

☆ ┈ ..Overall, little has changed.

☆ ┈ You and Kai still jokingly fight each other sometimes, although it's more like a childish fight between two old friends.

☆ ┈ You find your relationship strangely funny. In fact, you're kind of friends, but you don't have to be..

☆ ┈ Kai really sees you as a comrade rather than a possible ally because of all the time you've spent together.

☆ ┈ Training with you, your carefree attitude towards him instead of fighting with him, as he should have done since his release…

☆ ┈ Let's sum up, he likes you. Some people call him strange because he is so indifferent to the fact that an ancient powerful demon is always hanging out next to him.

☆ ┈ ..But, in general, Kai doesn't care. You're not doing any harm, which means there's no reason to be afraid of you, right?

☆ ┈ It seems to me that of all the ninjas, you will have the most normal relationship with Kai. Sure thing there are others who don't mind your presence, but Kai is still the most loyal to you.

☆ ┈ It seems to me that you could have told him about the prophecy during one of your skirmishes. For example, Kai manages to take you by surprise, and he finally got the upper hand over you.

☆ ┈ At first you are not surprised, but when the realization reaches you, you laugh nonstop while Kai joins you with laughter, proud of his victory.

— "..Not bad, not bad!" you pause to catch your breath after a long laugh, "It seems we are getting closer.."

— "Closer to what?" he asks, resting his hand on his knees, wiping sweat from his forehead after your fight.

— "To the prophecy. Well, you know, 'one day Master of Fire will defeat me in a fight', meh meh.."

— "..I told you about the prophecy, right?"

☆ ┈ Kai is just confused by this at first, but over time, when he thinks about it more often, it will start to annoy him.

☆ ┈ In the early seasons, Kai had problems with how he thought he was the chosen one, but I believe that over time he stopped thinking about it and now that he gets what he once wanted, it leads him to unpleasant thoughts, which angers him.

☆ ┈ Kai just denies the fact that the two of you will ever have to fight for real. He doesn't want to fight you! You're not doing anything wrong, so why should he fight you?!

☆ ┈ In short, Kai believes that the prophecy will not come true, and will do whatever comes into his head and in his opinion will prevent the prophecy from happening.

☆ ┈ I wonder what you will be doing at this time?

ZANE:

☆ ┈ Over time, he will get used to you. He's still not sure who you are to him, but he's made sure you're not the enemy.

☆ ┈ Enemy wouldn't help him in the danger, right?

☆ ┈ It's hard to describe your relationship in any way. Zane mostly treats you neutrally, and you, in turn, just hang out with him, always chatting about something.

☆ ┈ I just liked the idea that you see him more like a human, not nindroid.

☆ ┈ Like, rush around him if he is broken/injured, tell him something that he cannot understand himself due to his system..

☆ ┈ With a P.I.X.A.L, everything is a little more complicated for you. She's starting to like you more, but she's still being careful about you, and she won't fight you until there's a reason.

☆ ┈ It will be more difficult to fight/train with Zane, because you can either not inflict special damage on him, or on the contrary, seriously break him.

☆ ┈ No, really, you don't need to do that. Let others do it. Please-

☆ ┈ About the prophecy, it seems to me that you could just casually mention it during the conversation. It was so insignificant that Zane might not have taken it for the truth at first until he asked you about it.

— "Prophecy? What kind of prophecy is this?"

— "Oh, that one..Nothing serious. Something about the Master of Ice have to defeat me sometime."

— "..And despite that, you're not trying to avoid it?"

— "Ha! Why should I?"

☆ ┈ How hard it is for you to be with each other..

☆ ┈ Zane is quite skeptical about this. Yes, he had seen some prophecies come true, but in those situations it was different. Firstly, by "defeat" you can describe a lot, in terms of winning what exactly? Secondly, even if you need to fight a serious battle, at the moment he sees no point in fighting you.

☆ ┈ I am torn between the opinions that Zane will be worried about this for a long time, or that he will only occasionally think about it.

☆ ┈ But hey, it's not that bad. At least having the prophecy didn't change Zane's attitude towards you.

COLE:

☆ ┈ *nervous laughter*

☆ ┈ Oh, where should I start?..

☆ ┈ God forbid that poor person who had the guts to attack Ninjago, because you and Cole definitely won't spare them...

☆ ┈ Yes, you two have a good relationship! All those quarrels that once were have long been forgotten, because if you have disagreements, then you take them out on your opponents.

☆ ┈ I think you like each other. You're going to do some stupid things together, laughing at it like two idiots. (with all due respect🧡)

☆ ┈ ..His desperate lessons to teach you how to play video games do not end, although he is tired of explaining to others why his joystick is always broken.

☆ ┈ The only thing why he doesn't similiar with Kai in your relationship is because he still unwittingly prefers other ninjas.

☆ ┈ Yes, you are cool and all that, but please stay in the monastery under the control of Master Wu, okay?

☆ ┈ This does not interfere with your friendship, so to speak. Although, when he finds out about the prophecy, he will, to put it mildly, be confused. Maybe it was when the two of you were fighting someone?

— "..Hey, it seems to me, or have you become stronger? Ooh, I don't want to find out what will happen to me after the prophecy.."

— "Prophecy?" Cole asks you again, hitting some unlucky guy in the face, instantly causing him to fly away.

— "Mm, I didn't say? A prophecy in which the Master of Earth should defeat me or something like that."

— "Cool."

☆ ┈ Despite the fact that many ninjas, although they did not immediately believe it, they still understood that you were talking about the prophecy seriously, Cole does not do this. At all.

☆ ┈ Yeah, he's the only one who will always think that this is a joke, and since you mostly don't talk about the prophecy, he won't even think about the fact that it's true.

☆ ┈ ..I can't blame him, he sees you as a friend, I think many people would deny it or simply wouldn't believe it.

☆ ┈ In short, nothing has changed for you. Hooray!

☆ ┈ ..Let's hope that the prophecy will not be soon so that something will change.

LLOYD:

☆ ┈ I'm so sorry for him-

☆ ┈ Let me remind you that despite the fact that Lloyd was suspicious of you for a long time and did not really like you, in the end he accepted you as a friend.

☆ ┈ You have become someone important to him. Yes, maybe you could be annoying sometimes, but you've become a really close person to him.

☆ ┈ It seems to me that you could 'help' him with his worries. It seems like something: he comes to you to talk because he feels bad, and you don't know what to do and are like, "mgm, mgm, MMHHHM... care for tea??"

☆ ┈ He appreciates it anyway. It seems to me that in the case of Lloyd, you deliberately do not want to tell him about the prophecy, because you understand that for him it will be like a punch in the stomach. (I DON'T BELIEVE THAT YOU DON'T LIKE NINJAS)

☆ ┈ Like, "Lol, he's cool, but what will he do to me? Maybe there's nothing wrong if he doesn't know about it."

☆ ┈ It seems to me that there are two possible scenarios. Either Wu or Garmadon somehow guess about the prophecy through hints, or you accidentally blab about it to Lloyd. Most likely the second one.

☆ ┈ I don't think I can describe it, because you could say it and after a couple of seconds immediately close your mouth, because you realize that you said it. And Lloyd heard you…

☆ ┈ I don't want to hurt Lloyd once again, because he's been through a lot already for the whole series, but he really feels bad after he found out about it.

☆ ┈ Does he need to fight you? Why? When? Is there any way to avoid this? Did he really mean something to you, or were you just studying him all this time?

☆ ┈ This is probably one of the rarest cases when you may be really embarrassed by the situation and you would try to comfort Lloyd.

☆ ┈ You are not doing well, but know that he is tense. If in the case of Garmadon he was a child and could easily be distracted by something else, now he is older, which means it will be more difficult for him to move away from this.

☆ ┈ Lloyd wants to deny the prophecy. Wants to, but it's hard for him. He is afraid that he will hurt you because you have become close to him, but he is also afraid of why he will have to fight you. Are you going to try to do something terrible? Will you betray him? Why does someone choose what to do for him again?!

☆ ┈ It shouldn't have come to this, but here we are. We can only wait to see how the prophecy ends…

☆ ┈ ..If it comes true at all.

MASTER WU & MASTER GARMADON:

☆ ┈ It's very complicated with them..

☆ ┈ It's easier with Wu, he missed the old days when you were comrades, so he will soften towards you. Of course, he can hit you on the head with a staff so that you don't relax, but as long as you don't cause trouble, you're fine.

☆ ┈ The Garmadon is not happy about your return. Generally. Unlike Wu, he holds a grudge against you for abandoning them and leaving Garmadon alone while the evil in his blood drove him crazy.

☆ ┈ They have become more tolerant of you, but this does not mean that you can do whatever you want, especially if you have revealed a desire to live with them..There are special rules for you.

☆ ┈ To put it simply, many things are forbidden for you.

☆ ┈ Garmadon have monastery, as it was shown in the third season, and apparently he have a young students. I think, in his free time from training, you could have fun with them while Garmadon watches you from the side and rests.

☆ ┈ You often try to help them, even if it means bringing Wu his teapot from the other end of Ninjago, or checking on Lloyd on a mission because Garmadon is worried about him.

☆ ┈ By the way, I think the three of you will make a great trio in battle. I generally like the interactions of Wu and Garmadon when they are allies, and you could be the perfect complement.

☆ ┈ In this case, it is combined with Lloyd's hcs. In both cases, you are friends, and most likely Lloyd will tell them about the prophecy after you blabbed about it.

☆ ┈ I'll tell you right away, Garmadon is damn angry.

☆ ┈ He sees that Lloyd is having a hard time taking it, and is angry at you for not telling him or Wu anything. Yes, he hopes that the prophecy could have been avoided, but he is not sure when it will happen, and therefore does not know if it can be prevented.

☆ ┈ Wu feels regret. He remembers all of Lloyd's experiences, he was with him almost all his way, and now even more trials are being imposed on him.

☆ ┈ The two of them often started discussing this together, and finally realized that their father had left clues about the prophecy for them. And, well, guess who goes after it, telling the ninja team to watch you and not leave you alone with Lloyd?

☆ ┈ So, these two intend to do everything in their power to prevent the prophecy. And, unfortunately to you, without you.

..:*･ﾟ☆.｡.:*･ﾟﾞ｡.:*･ﾟ☆.｡.:*･ﾟ🌤

🌤 — I AM ALIVE

🌤 — I'm so sorry this one take so much time, there were several reasons for the delay, some of them were health problems and writer's block, but I got better so I finished it :'э

🌤 — rlly hope that you'll like it. have a good day you all💌

[banjjakz]

➡ Fall asleep.

When you blink back into consciousness, a gentle warmth welcomes you to the land of the living. At some point in your slumber, you pitched sideways to huddle your achingly cold bones in a fetal position. Now, you find yourself struggling to activate your joints after succumbing to a slumber so deep it’s seemed to have left you with rigor mortis.

As you sit up, an unfamiliar layer of fuzzy fabric slides from your shoulders. A blanket! Ah, that explains the extra warmth. But you don’t remember bringing a blanket with you… and you’ve never seen this particular blanket in your entire life. Sure, it’s cozy and high-quality, but the pattern of wide-open eyes littered across the black cloth is off-putting – although, not entirely unpleasant.

Oh shoot, did someone put this on you? Have you been discovered?

“Hello.”

Spooked, you whip your head to the side, where you had not even registered the presence of another living being. “Ahh!!!”

“I did not mean to frighten you. I apologize.”

Are you – are you dreaming?

You must be dreaming. They term isn’t “yumejoshi” for no reason. There is no way Choso squats in front of you, less than a meter away, so close that you can smell his earthy, metallic fragrance. He hasn’t even changed out of his stage costume: his customary white robes are still soaked through with sweat from the earlier performance, gracing the pale fabric a tantalizing semi-translucence. His purple gi is nowhere to be found, which exposes the unholy caverns of his collarbones, the inviting jut of his skeletal sternum. The signature pigtails are also undone, leaving his stringy black hair to metastasize down the sides of his gaunt face, across the barren valley of his jagged shoulder blades. And yet, that solid bar of black remains perfectly applied across the center of his face.

“…Nn?”

“Are you alright?”

Choso stays where he is, head cocked in concern. Quickly, you realize you have two options.

You can tell the truth and admit that you’d been waiting outside just to see him walk a few paces before getting into a nondescript vehicle. Totally normal fan behavior that will definitely go over well.

Or, you can lie.

“I-I don’t have anywhere else to go,” you demure, casting your eyes down in false bashfulness. You would feel bad about this if you were a better person.  “And the memories from ShinShow’s performances always sustain me…I just thought, if I could enjoy the positive energy for a little while longer…I would be sustained. I’m sorry…”

“Why do you apologize?”

One of Choso’s most appealing charming points is his overly formal, somewhat antiquated manner of speaking. He sounds like a historical figure who has been yanked from the past, inserted haphazardly into contemporary pop culture. Very fitting for his lore. But you’d also been under the assumption that this was merely a stage act – is he that committed to his image? Or is it innate?

The thought of Choso simply being Like That is too endearing to bear. You hide your face behind your palms, concealing the tremulous smile that possesses your lips.

“It’s embarrassing… and I’ve troubled Choso-nii…”

The last thing you expect are cold, impossibly cold, hands to wrap around your wrists, kindly (but firmly) uncovering your face. Choso has drawn closer to you, so close that when he breathes, it brushes the bridge of your nose.

His face is impassive, as usual – but upon closer inspection, you notice a strange, wavering quality in his eyes, a slight tremor in his lips. There might actually be color on the tips of his ears. Usually, he appears as though he is so pale there is no blood coursing through his veins that could produce a blush.

Evidently, this is not the case.

“Choso-nii is not troubled,” he states plainly, leaving no room for argument. “The night is no place for a little one to be sleeping unguarded.”

Oh, you could faint here and now. It’s an active choice on your part to remain conscious. “Mn…”

“You will come with me now.”

And so you do.

This is how you find yourself in the back of an unmarked, utilitarian white van. To anyone else the vehicle would appear as little more than a maintenance truck. But you know better.

Inside the living-quarters is a mish-mash of discarded clothing items in varying degrees of cleanliness; discarded guitar picks; empty takeout containers; and a random jumble of electronic chargers. Inexplicably, there is also an abundance of first-aid supplies, with over half of it apparently already used. As he sits you down on one of the distressed leather seats, Choso uses the medical kit to tend to a few scrapes on your legs and arms earned from your impromptu nap on the concrete.

“It’s really not that bad…You don’t have to—”

“Enough.”

Embarrassed, you shut your mouth. How do you even cope with this situation? Here you are, in the back of your oshi’s travel van, as he sits on his knees in front of you, hands impatiently pushing your clothes away to reveal your bare skin. His touch leeches the body heat out of you like a parasite. You want to be sucked dry.

“This will sting.” That’s all the warning you get before hydrogen peroxide is unceremoniously dumped on your fresh scrapes.

Unbidden, you let out a strangled whine, hands flying to the closest part of him you can reach – which happens to be his head. You clutch at his hair to absolve you of your suffering. “Choso-nii! It hurts!”

Ker-thlunk. Glug… glug… glug…

Fuck! Your spasming must have knocked over the hydrogen peroxide…. the upended bottle spills its guts across the floor, drenching the air in an oppressively medicinal stink.

Oddly, no irritancy mars Choso’s features. If anything, he looks more flustered than you feel, which doesn’t make much sense to you.

“I’m so sorry! I c-can clean it up, I promise---”

“Leave it.” He speaks without meeting your eyes. “You are injured.”

Barely, you want to retort. But acknowledging the fact that your so-called “injuries” are very minor surface scrapes would shatter the illusory bubble of realized fantasy into which you have miraculously stumbled.

Before you can reply, Choso continues: “The human mouth is the fastest-healing part of the body. Saliva heals.”

“Okay,” you say, because there is nothing else you could possibly respond with. He can’t mean—surely, he doesn’t—

But there he goes, leaning in close to the supple flesh of your bared leg, breath ghosting along the very surface, raising the hairs that quiver in eager anticipation. “I said I would help you feel better. Please allow me this. It is my duty.”

And then he begins to suck on your wounds.

“Oh-kay,” you squeal, entirely convinced that you have begun to astral project. The scrape on the inside of your knee is laved over by his tongue, which is, strangely, just as chilled as the rest of him. When his eyes flick up at your exclamation, you realize that you have yet to release his hair.

Nor do you want to.

“B-be gentle, please…” You’re laying it on thick. You know it. How could you resist? He’s eating it up – literally – mouthing repeatedly over the sensitive area as though he is spiritually compelled to do so. And just because you’re a little too observant, a little too greedy for your own good, you decide to push your luck: “Will Choso-nii make me feel better everywhere?”

With a wet pop, he unleashes your leg from his wet, red mouth. “Where does it hurt,” he asks, pupils blown wide, nothing more than a twin pair of black holes.

“Mn…all over…I’m sore, from sleeping on the ground…”

Choso rises from his knees to crowd you into the back of the seat. Of course, you willingly melt back, pliant in the wake of his potent desire.

“Do you need Choso-nii to make it better?”

“Please,” you whimper, peering up at him through your dewy, tear-damp lashes.

Holy shit, you can’t believe this actually worked. Two hours ago, you were just one of hundreds of faceless, sweaty fans, screaming their hearts out to some of the most hauntingly morbid lyrics.

And now, you are caged in the unforgiving embrace of your oshi, completely at his mercy, littered in hickeys and lovebites and bruises as he has his way with you. Your sharp cries of pain do the opposite of dissuade him; with each groan and plea for him to slow down, take a pause, ow, ow, it hurts Choso-nii--, he grows all the more impassioned, all the more frantic.

He only pulls away from you when there is not a single inch of exposed skin left for him to mark. The sound of your comingled pants fill the van, fogging the windows with physical evidence of your salacious tryst.

Neither of you speak for a moment, content to simply gaze into each other’s eyes. His hair is frazzled every which way, due in no small part to your rough handling. Is it normal to be turned on by such a trainwreck of a human? Should you really be wet between the thighs at being mauled?

“Do—” his voice cracks in a way you have never heard before, not on any livestream, not in any video, not on any stage. “Do you feel better, now?”

Maybe it’s fate…maybe, somewhere out there, far, far away, there is a benevolent being who wants nothing but the best for you. Maybe they concentrated their divine powers into finding you, in this moment, and directing your gaze to the loose pocketknife innocently resting on the grimy floor next to his clunky black platforms. In this moment, as you pick up the blade, unsheathing it without breaking eye contact with the ghoulish specter hovering above you, an inexplicable wave of love and appreciation washes over you, bathing your half-dressed body in the warm waters of some distant, far-off shore.

It's almost too easy to slice a surface wound – a cat-scratch, really – into the plush swell of your upper thigh.

“What about here, Choso-nii?” You ask, enraptured by the peculiar twitching of his facial muscles. “Can you kiss it better right here?”

Once again, you are right on the money.

Choso dives to chase the rivulet of blood running down your leg like a man stumbling across an oasis in the desert. Devotionally, he tongues at the gory slit, sucking more blood from your self-inflicted wound, moaning as if he is the one being pleasured right now. In a strange way, you think he might be.

Your initial quick-thinking unleashes an outlandish chain reaction which finds you, inevitably, entirely unclothed with a not-insignificant amount of reddening slashes across your naked form. When it’s all said and done, Choso will tend to each and every cut, diligently disinfecting and dressing the disrupted flesh, allowing you to weakly tug at his hair (now pulled back from his face into two twin pigtails) when it burns.

Upon the final swipe of antibacterial ointment, you are halfway in dreamland, barely cognizant enough to recognize that you should probably be getting the hell out of here, at this point. However, shunning reason and common sense is the exact behavior that’s gotten you this far – so you decide to stick to what you know.

“Choso-nii,” you murmur groggily into the leather seat. “Blanket?”

“What blanket?”

His confusion is confusing you. “The one you gave me… ‘s cold…”

“…I did not give you a blanket.” For the first time since he’d picked you up behind the venue, Choso’s voice sounds grounded in reality. Released from the shackles of lust and taboo desire, he speaks with lucid candor. “Was that blanket not yours?”

“Nope,” you hum, blissfully dazed. “Where ‘s ‘t?”

Sleep descends upon your worn, battered form before you hear his answer.

Oh well. As long as Choso-nii is nearby, you have nothing to worry about.

[ROUTE CLEAR.]

next suggested route: okkotsu yuuta

> main menu > prologue > guide

> report an issue

[onesaltyhunter]

Sleep Token x Gender Neutral!Reader HCs

what type of inhuman creatures would they be?

Side note: I've never made one of these before so props to all those people who make these regularly--they're difficult for my 3 brain cells to pop out something in return

VESSEL (I)

VAMPIRE

Protective, yet kind and passionate (he's also moderately awkward but we love that for him)

Tried his best to use his special "mind powers" to make you attracted to him after years of jokingly flirting with you

(It didn't work lmao)

He's still a hopeless romantic so he tried again

it still didn't work but you ended up falling for him anyway (he still believes that it worked)

Has an undeniable urge to hold onto you in some way, whether it may be an arm around your shoulder, waist--holding hands, and even the occasional fumbling with each other's fingers when walking somewhere

he's cold. like SO FUCKING COLD.

You used to jump at how freezing he was to the touch, but you've gotten used to it (for the most part)

If you decide to go to one of their shows and someone looks at you for a split second with even the slightest look of disgust/infatuation, Vessel with put the fear of God into them

He wouldn't tell you what he did, but, you could easily figure it out

bro is HORNY like ON GOD

II

WERECAT

kinda shy--very cuddly though

yeah sure they have a "Holy duty to be constantly awake" but sometimes, II feels a bit eepy

either very energetic or very tired, no in-between

Can barely hold back the urge to wrap his arms around you and nuzzle your neck (even if you're taller than him)

Acts like he needs some alone time every once in a while (lies)

Doesn't really know how to explain to you that he wants to spend more time with you--doesn't want to come off as clingy

Has literally overslept cuddled up to you and nearly missed a show because of it--loves violating his duty to Sleep if it means he can spend more time with you

It doesn't feel like he has to ask to "accidentally" pass out on you, bypassing any means of attempting to ask you if it's alright

You'd always be okay with it though, unless you were nommin on a snack and it felt weird to see him schlumped over your thigh, snoring--which felt weird but eh, its just II being II

After you found out what he was, you jokingly called him a "catboy"

The weird stare off lasted a solid minute

II was a little weirded out by the fact that you were unphased by your reaction to him telling you that he is a LITERAL monster

III

WEREWOLF

sorry if you thought he was going to be some big strong werewolf man--he has the personality of a golden retriever

Needs hugs (SHOW HIM SOME AFFECTION LIKE 24/7 PLS HE NEEDS IT)

VERY ENERGETIC

Fuckin loves running around like a maniac with you on off-days or even after a show

You still wonder how he has the energy to do stuff after bouncing about and toying with Vessel on stage

Will NOT hesitate on making a scene if it looks like someone is harassing you

Will (attempt) stop the ENTIRE SHOW and jump down into the crowd and shove them

if he can't, well--let's just say that he had a very unpleasant snack that night

Comes back acting as if nothing happened

IV

FAE

very chill (as per usual)

loves to dance around

you came home to him jamming out on his own and all of your seemingly dying house plants started living again

(Bro forgot he can do that 💀)

will dance with you until the middle of the night (goblin behavior but we love him fr)

loves taking you to botanical gardens

can't stop bringing you flowers (like no he really can't stop, it almost a problem)

another hugger (you want to hug him--you NEED TO)

[saintverse]

forgive me on possible poor wording on this post (suggestions and discussion are welcome and open) i'm really not feeling well right now and i struggle with articulating myself because of brainfog.

tumblr is an echo chamber but if you say that you're accused of being a fascist or whatever when it's just plainly and simply true. it's genuinely wonderful to have an online space dominated by autistic people and leftists but the disadvantages of such a space rear their head quite quickly when you think about it for more than five seconds.

(there is NOTHING inherently wrong with the way autistic people think vs allistic people think, merely i think a lot of us struggle with the same issues that can sometimes inhibit our understanding of the world around us and experiences different from our own)

autism being the norm is fun and cool until you try to explain the nuances of like, for example, online behavior. because i think a lot of us struggle with black or white thinking that goes unquestioned and it can lead to really unhealthy habits. like yeah terfs are shitty people and we should reject their ideas, but spending your spare time sending random people on the internet gore is really weird, is giving them more attention than they deserve, and is overall a waste of time that can't be good for your mental health. and if you explained to anyone offline that one of your hobbies is sending gore or suicide baiting people on the internet, even with those people being bigots, they will be weirded out. it's not healthy to put that much emotional energy into your oppressor. it's just weird. go for a walk or something, girl. i can't watch this.

(creating public campaigns against specific terfs just gives them more of a platform and a weird victim complex. most importantly, you're putting your transfem friends and mutuals in danger by exposing them to this shit and giving transmisogynists a way to find them!)

(i don't say any of this to be shitty about autistic people i just think our brains are wired or whatever to make it really easy to fall down weird pipelines. hence why 4chan was filled with a lot of autistic white dudes. a lot of us are fairly susceptible to rhetoric if it goes unquestioned and aligns with our personal unchallenged world views.)

another example, if you say the r slur in real life everybody is just going to think you're saying the r slur. the average person (who also is chill with the r slur and probably uses it themselves) will be like haha yeah. and the average autistic or intellectually disabled person will be like oh good god i need to stay away from them. but for some reason people on here think they can reclaim the r slur by using it as a slur online (especially when they themselves are NOT intellectually disabled and have ZERO right to reclaim that term). you've all been infected by 4chan brain and you don't even see it because you've convinced yourself being a coldhearted edgy bully is cool and that being shitty to, for example, people with social anxiety is funny and aligns perfectly with your progressive persona (you reblog posts about social justice but you're a dick to everyone you've ever met and you have no friends because you're a negative person who is genuinely unpleasant to be around)

image credit goes to: @batmanreturnsnineteenninetytwo

and did you know that randomly deciding to make asexuals or polyamorous people (people who deviate from the norm) the butt of your jokes and calling them freaks and shit is actually progressive? everyone has just been slowly and slowly becoming more mask off disgusting and it's wild to me. on tumblr.com, you people are being shitty to anyone who deviates from the norm? i mean. who am i kidding. this website hates trans women and people from the global south more than anything so i haven't believed tumblr was a truly "forward-thinking" space since i was a naïve young teenager.

people who lose their shit about tankies. people who clutch their pearls about misandry and "transandrophobia"... people who accuse all palestinians of being scammers. people who send suicide bait and debate with bigots they should really be ignoring. people who make fun of people with a complicated relationship with sex or with social anxiety. you freaks are everywhere and you're all ridiculously reactionary, you just dress it up as progressivism and how to be cool on the internet or whatever. i'm SOOOOOOOO tired...

100% a line of thinking inspired by this very spot-on post, as well as the interaction that had in the comments with @deepseasmetro - thank you!

tumblr is a flimsy ego-boosting platform that's filled with bullies who hide behind their politics and relationship with oppression meanwhile they don't give a fuck about anyone who has less than them, who has it worse than them. it's all about the oppression olympics, looking cool, and punching down. obviously most of us with a head on our shoulders know this already but it truly never ceases to astound me tbh 😐

it's the same people posting inspiring poetry & textposts about kindness and love and small animals that are out here telling teenagers to kill themselves!

anyway. while you're here please donate to hamada and mohammed and heba and her father bakr ⭐️

[besamehyuka]

Let’s Keep Her: Sweet One

WARNING

:

THIS CONTAINS SCENES WHICH MAY BE UNPLEASANT FOR SOME READERS! SUCH AS; INAPPROPRIATE TOUCHING, WORDS, ACTIONS AND PHRASES. IF YOU ARE UNCOMFORTABLE WITH SMUT/MAFIA/ILLEGAL ACTIVITIES; DO NOT READ!!

(ALL PARTS)       PREVIOUS  |   NEXT

You were led to a blood red room, filled with paintings of 9 men, one had a dark red x slashed across his face, hiding it, guarding it, almost like he had been kicked out, but then again, that was your assumption.

You could really care less, but then again, he hadn’t kidnapped you, he hadn’t held you hostage, he hadn’t gripped you tightly, like now. You felt hands trace up the crevice of your back and felt eyes on you, checking you, studying you, and you instantly slapped them away. Wanting no one to touch you, no one!

“Hey.” The voice stated, much more calm and full of life, more so than the others you had encountered. “I’m not going to hurt you.” He said and you whipped around to find a younger looking male, no older than yourself,stare at you, his eyes sharp but content, full of understanding, almost as if he knew where you had been.

Like he had been in your shoes at one time. Like he had felt fear in his life. In his golden eyes, there was compassion, empathy, sincerity and you felt yourself trusting him a little bit. just a little bit, no more than that.

“I’m Jeongin.” He stated, reaching his hand out for you to take, but when you didn’t he understood, and nodded leading you into an exam room, one that you’ve seen in doctor’s offices. One that you used to feel safe in, but this time you weren’t so sure.

“What are you going to do with me?” You found yourself saying, drawing uneasy by the numerous knives and carving tools that sat beside him, and he cleaned off his desk.

“No worries, I have strict orders to not harm you. And I wouldn’t have planned to anyways. It’s against my nature, my code of conduct if you will.” He responded without your eyes on him. “I’m the healer, or chief doctor, I’m just going to do a check up and see if everything’s okay. I won’t cut you, stick you with any needles, nothing like that.” He reassured you. 

His demeanor was unlike those other men, and you felt safe so you simply nodded, slipping into the examination chair, letting him take your vital signs, pulse, temperature and anything else he needed. 

His hands worked like they’ve done this numerous times, so delicately, so patient, so demanding. Nothing too harsh, and you found yourself wanting more from him.

“I’m Y/n.” You said abruptly into the silence you had caused, wanting no more of it as he only nodded and chuckled in response.

“I know.” He stated, tracing your veins in your arms as you shivered. You could tell he had no ill intent and he seemed like he also had no intention or desire to feast upon your blood, which was good. 

“It’s just like them.” He growled, rolling his eyes as he stared at you. 

“Huh?” You asked confusion spreading through your body like a wildfire. 

“My brothers.” He responded fast. “The way they treated you, its not what a gentleman should do . I apologize for their rude behavior. Especially Minho.” 

You wondered how could he have possibly known, but he raised his hand in protest and went on to explain.

“I can tell your emotion, and then through those emotions I can relive what experiences you went through. All through touch.” He said, closing his eyes releasing his grip on your wrist. “No big deal. I won’t intrude again, I didn’t mean to, but you were projected very vividly, you were very angry and I couldn’t stop, so I just had to see.”

You bit your lip and nodded. It felt confusing, but you simply nodded. “I understand. 

“You’re very healthy.” Jeongin finally gave you your results, leaving back against the wooden table he smiled, a smile that sent shivers up your spine. He was so nice, it pained you to see him work for these assholes. What had made him come here? What on earth was he doing? 

“May I ask, are you a...”

“Am I a vampire?” Jeongin answered for you, crossing his arms over his chest as a chuckle erupted from his mouth. “God no.”

“Then.. then what are you?” You asked, your mouth starting to become dry and cloudy, same with your mind. Minho had said they weren’t just a coven of vampires, but you had thought he was just being a tease, and a liar, but so far he was telling the truth.

“I’m a Kitsune. Don’t think too much about it. It’s not important, and it won’t ever be. Just try and enjoy your time here. Once you get used to us, we won’t bother you.” He replied, smiling softly. 

Just like that, the conversation was over. 

A million questions circled your head. A kitsune. What was that? You had only heard of Vampires, werewolves, and demons. Sure you weren’t into lore and myths, but you had known what those things were. 

Suddenly, the door swung open revealing Chan, his cold red eyes fixed on yours as he took your orbs in, his blue hair wet with rain as he smirked devilishly at you, smirking as he drew near.

“So?” He asked, humming deeply, so deep it sounded like a growl, and you knew it was to claim you, to tame you almost. You make you his, but you didn’t want to be his. 

A look from Jeongin confirmed this as he dropped his gaze from you to Chan and talked about your test results. About how everything showed up normal and good, everything was alright, and Chan nodded, sighing.

Why was he sighing? Why was he sad when everything was alright?

Was he hoping you were sick so he could mark you right then and there and change you? Was he hoping you had some kind of terminal illness like cancer so he could kill you quick and drag you into his world and be his vampire queen? 

Like you could ever?!

But you didn’t want Chan! So far he had shown you nothing but impatience, he had shown you nothing but cruel torture. He had shown you what vampires were truly like. 

And you found yourself slowly becoming attracted to that man, that doctor, the one who had smiled at you, who had held your hand, and who had made you know he wasn’t going to hurt you. Who had proved it to you. 

You felt yourself falling for the sweet one, Jeongin. 

[thestruidora]

Sweetheart

Supernatural Fanfiction

Rating: Explicit

WARNINGS: This story will contain but it’ll not be limited to explicit 18+ content including Yandere, Borderline Personality Disorder, Stalker, Possessive Behavior, Romance, Angst, Angst, Fluff and Smut, Rape/Non-con Elements, Hurt/Comfort, Therapy, Miscommunication, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Obsessive Behavior, Smut, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Oral Sex, Dirty Talk, Praise Kink

Category: F/M

Pairings: Dean Winchester/You, Dean Winchester/Reader

Summary: Dean has borderline personality disorder and the reader is his favorite person.

Author’s notes: Yes, I'm still alive. You go on and pay that bet now.

Chapter Two

Two of Cups

“The Two of Cups is about two people working together. It reflects an energy of mutual feeling and support, and reminds you that there is love in your life, whether you see it or not.”

“Alright, I’m heading out!” He announced, right after attaching the leash to Thor’s collar, already moving towards the front door of the house.

“Wait, hold on.” Lisa’s voice sounded from the kitchen, stopping Dean in his tracks. He let out a sigh, feeling impatient.

The brunette walked into the foyer, visibly surprised by the sight in front of her. Her fiancee had left for work early that morning, leaving her with a kiss on the forehead and a soft pat on the head. By the time he came back home, she was barely able to greet him as he moved into the bathroom, took a quick shower, and changed clothes. Now, without so much as a word, he was about to leave once more, one hand on their family dog’s leash and the other holding his keychain.

“Babe, you’re gonna take Thor for a walk? You just got home.” She looked at the clock on the wall, 2 p.m., he didn’t usually return home at this hour. “You left work early?” It sounded like a question. It wasn’t.

“Yeah, there was a problem down at the plant, one of the guys got hurt and we had to shut everything down so…” He explained, body still turned halfway towards the door.

“Oh, is he going to be ok?” Lisa asked, not a hint of true concern on her face.

“Probably gonna need a couple stitches, it wasn’t that bad. But you know, with all the safety measures and everything, we had to stop for the day.” He said, smoothly, without any uncertainty, looking her in the eye. Dean had always been a good liar. “So when I got home I just thought I might go on a little walk with Thor, get it out of the way for the day.”

They both glanced down at the dog, sitting there with his tongue out and his tail sweeping the floor, clearly excited by the idea of going out for a stroll. There was a certain tension in the air when they looked back up at each other, the way Lisa’s eyebrows formed into a subtle frown giving it away. Dean put his keys in his pocket and tapped on the fabric of his jeans, almost itching to move. He just wanted to be able to go already. A silence fell in between them for a long couple of seconds, but it felt longer than that. When he couldn't handle it anymore, he broke it.

“Anyway, I’ll be back in a little bit, ok?” It sounded like a question. It wasn’t.

His body turned all the way towards the door, hand reaching for the knob.

“Maybe it was, actually.” He completely stopped moving when he heard her say it, craning his neck to see her, an unpleasant expression staring back at him.

“What?” He asked, confused.

“Maybe it actually was that bad, the accident your colleague had today, you just didn’t take the time to notice.” She replied, matter-of-factly, voice calm and even. Dean easily understood the underlining meaning of her words and she knew. She knew that he was aware of her unhappiness and she of his, but neither of them did anything, just patiently waiting for the other to make a move. The fact that she knew that broke her heart and it made her eyes burn, it made her want to scream. “Have a good walk with Thor, babe.” She said instead.

All he could do in return was give her a quick nod and a tight smile before finally opening the door and exiting the house, Thor following close behind.

Dean wished he had it in him to spend the short path to the dog park thinking about Lisa and their lives together. Think about how he used to love watching her sleep and now the minute his head hits the pillow at night he turns his back to her. About how he used to enjoy their long talks during breakfast and dinner and now he dreads the mealtimes they do share, because he sure avoids them when he can help it. About the way her touch doesn’t quite fit anymore and the way her voice hits his ears with a grating tone that he could swear wasn’t there before.

Did he change or was it her? Did they both simply fall out of love?

Because he can tell by the way she looks at him sometimes, when she thinks he’s not paying attention. It’s like she hates him. Resents him somehow. He never did ask why and probably never will, but he doesn't need to, there’s no point. He knows why.

He’s never going to be the perfect husband and father she wants him to be. He’s never going to stop waking up in the middle of the night because of the nightmares. He’s never going to not feel guilty for being with her, choosing her, instead of being out there searching for a way to bring his brother back.

He tries though, he really does.

Sure, there’s a gun perpetually under his pillow, holy water under the bed, and a silver blade in the top drawer of the nightstand. But that’s just the bedroom. Imagine if she knew what he keeps in the garage. But she doesn't wanna know, doesn’t want to think about it. So he doesn’t tell her and she doesn’t ask. Isn’t that a good compromise?

He has virtually erased his whole past life to be with her, started out brand-spanking new. He gave up on hunting, completely. But every guy needs a hobby. So he’s been going out to the dog park a few more times than usual in the past few weeks, so what? What’s wrong with that? He likes the fresh air and the sound of the kids laughing, even the barks are kind of nice. It’s overall a very wholesome environment. Then there’s Y/N. The beautiful, charming, and captivating lady that he gets to see every time he’s there.

Did he ever even mention having met you to Lisa? Mention you at all? No, but there’s nothing wrong with that. Absolutely nothing. He’s sure that Lisa has friends that she has never spoken about to him either. And that’s fine. That’s healthy.

Because that is what Y/N is to him, a friend. Since the day they got acquainted a few weeks prior they have continued to meet at noon, sometimes a little early, sometimes a little later, whenever you would make clear you would be walking your friend’s dog as a favor while they’re on a trip. You’re kind like that, considerate. Easy to talk to, a good listener. Dean really enjoys your company and he thinks the sentiment is reciprocated.

And that’s what he thinks about the whole way over, you, he wishes he didn’t but he did and will quite certainly do again in the days that’ll follow because he’s not going to stop coming to the park if it means he gets to see you.

It’s just that being near you feels so right, simple . And sometimes it’s hard to not, you know, compare.

“Hi, Dean!” He hears Y/N’s voice and it washes all other thoughts away. You’re there, sitting on the usual bench, sun beaming down on you. You have that pretty smile on your lips while you watch him approach. “And hello to you too, Thor.” You say to the German Shepherd that completely ignores you in favor of jumping on Loki, he and the Husky immediately falling into an enthusiastic match of play-fighting, clearly happy to see each other.

“Hey.” Dean kneels down to remove the leash from Thor’s collar, looking up at you in your sitting position, stealing the quickest glance at your thighs, skin exposed in your summer dress. “How are you?”

“I’m good, a little tired from work. You?” He starts wrapping the leash in his hand, moving to sit next to you, just close enough that your knees touch, but you don’t seem to notice, or maybe you just don’t mind.

“I’m okay, actually a little tired from being at home instead of work.” The words just flow out of his mouth before he can filter them, which is so not like him.

At least it's not when he's with anyone else.

“Want to talk about it?” He knows you’d listen, really listen, without judgment. But he doesn’t feel like unpacking whatever is happening between him and Lisa, he would rather be here in this moment, with you.

“You just said you’re tired from work but here you are trying to listen to my problems.” He brushes it off, changing the subject, and this time he can tell you did notice, but doesn’t mind.

“Well, what can I say? You can take a girl out of the therapist’s office but you can’t take the therapist out of the girl.” You said, nonchalantly. There was a beat of silence before you both started to laugh.

“Did you just make that up?” Dean smiled, leaning towards you.

“Yep.” You nodded, dimples appearing.

“Cause you made it sound like it was a saying.” He teased.

“Yeah, but it’s definitely not.” You admit, and he appreciates the way you don’t take yourself too seriously. “There’s not a lot of sayings about psychologists, you know.”

“My family has one: don’t go to them.” He replies, still smiling.

“Really? No one in your family has ever seen a therapist?” Y/N sounds a little shocked, which makes him want to laugh again, thinking about what you’d say if you only knew the half of it.

“No, we were raised with that midwestern, salt of the earth, just rub some dirt on it kind of attitude.” He said it like it was no big deal, but it was clear that you didn’t think the same way by your response.

“Dean, talking to someone about your thoughts and feelings is nothing to be ashamed or embarrassed about. It can be… Very healing.”

“Well, ‘course you think that, it’s your job.” Dean’s comeback came quickly.

It wasn’t that he hated therapists or was against them or anything, he just didn’t think it was for him. He couldn't trust some random stranger with the ins and outs of his life, plus he knew it just wouldn't work for him, the whole ‘healing’ thing. He was too far gone for that.

He remembered being a little taken aback when you mentioned your job, didn’t like the idea of talking to someone who’s constantly psychoanalyzing him, except he never felt that you had done that. Quite the opposite, you hadn’t ever compelled him to open up any more than what he was comfortable with. Problem is, he’s always comfortable talking to you. You’re so easy to be near and it feels as if there’s never any judgment being passed.

So his first impression of your career was quickly shattered, but that hasn’t stopped him from picturing you from time to time, sitting behind a desk with your legs crossed and a pointed look, a thin-framed pair of glasses resting low on the bridge of your nose while you jot something down in your little notepad. Maybe he got that visual from porn, but it’s not like he has much else to reference from.

“I’m not saying you should be my patient, that wouldn't even be ethical, we’re friends.” You say it like it’s the most obvious thing in the world and he feels a pang in his chest.

He did think of you as a friend in his own head, but to hear you say it out loud burst some sort of unstated bubble that had formed between the two of you.

He had never spoken about Lisa to you, had only mentioned Ben a couple of times in passing and you never pressed him on for more. Did you know he had a family and was practically married? Was it obvious? And even if he didn’t would you care? Would you see him as anything more than a ‘friend’ if he wasn’t already in a relationship or that thought hadn’t even crossed your mind?

Did you find him attractive at all? Most girls do, are you different?

And if you ever made a move, if you ever touched more than the top of his hand or the side of his shoulder in that completely oblivious way, if you ever made it known to him that you had an interest; what would he do? Did you know? Does he? Because he can’t even decide for himself. Would he give up on everything he has now to be with you?

“What are you thinking about?” Your index finger tapped the middle of his forehead in a playful motion and he came back from his pondering, watching you swiftly remove your hand from his personal space as if it had never been there.

“Huh?” It was all he could say, trying to swim out of the stream of hypotheses that had been racing in his brain.

“You were very deep in thought, were you considering getting a therapist perchance?” You smiled like you already knew what he’d say.

“Oh, hell no.” He was quick to answer, shaking his head and regaining his focus.

“Cause you think psychology is a bunch of bullshit?”

“No, I used to think that.”

“Oh, you used to think that? But now you changed your mind?” You smiled openly, and it felt like the two of you had known each other for years, falling into a lighthearted banter just like that.

“Well, you wouldn't waste so much time of your life dedicating yourself to bullshit, you’re too smart for that.” Now it was his turn to state something as if it was obvious.

“Thanks.” You laughed then, taking the compliment. “But listen, I really should get going, I have to go meet with my landlord, again.”

“Seriously? I just got here.” Dean said with feigned annoyance, not wanting you to know that he was, in fact, annoyed at your departure.

“I’m sorry, but I really need to talk to him, he’s gotta fix my apartment’s heating, I’ve been asking him to for weeks and he comes over, messes with it for a little bit, and then the second he leaves it gets cold again.” Dean’s brows furrowed in confusion at your words.

“Cold? We’re in the middle of June.”

“I know! It’s the craziest thing, I’ll be walking around and all of the sudden it gets freezing cold, like, I can see my own breath.” You explained, miming an invisible fog out of your lips with your hands.

“That is weird.” Dean said slowly, processing what he was being told.

The Winchester’s thoughts were going a thousand miles per minute. It couldn't be what he was thinking, it would be too much of a coincidence. What were the chances that the girl he had met only a couple of weeks prior was being haunted? What if that was the reason he had met her in the first place? To save her.

“And does it usually happen at a certain time of the day or just whenever?” A wave of realization washed over your features as he asked, as though you had just remembered something important.

“It’s funny you said that, it actually does only happen at night and only when I’m alone.” Your response made a shiver run down his spine. “My sister came over the other day and it was totally fine, but then when it’s just me it happens again, it’s like my heater is possessed or something.” You had no clue how on the mark you were with that one.

“No way.”

Dean had quit hunting, he was out. He promised his brother that much, he promised Lisa. But there you were, right in front of him, clearly in dire need of his help. He just couldn't let anything happen to you, not on his watch. It wouldn't be right.

“And I haven’t even mentioned the rodent situation.” You called Loki over from where he and Thor were playing in the grass a little further away from the bench the two of you had been sitting in. The big dog came over in an instant, his other furry friend literally on his tail.

“You have a rodent situation as well?” He was so invested now.

“Oh, yeah, I’m a very lucky gal, Dean.” Your hands made quick work of putting the leash back on Loki’s collar, preparing to leave.

“How do you know you have it? Have you seen them?” Dean reached for your arm to stop you from getting up, a quiet desperation brewing underneath the surface, but you, silly you, didn’t pay enough attention to realize.

“No, but they’re all up in my walls, I can hear them scratching at night and I’m deadly afraid of mice so it’s just awful.” He was looking you right in the eyes as you said it, examining every inch of your innocent face, suddenly very aware of your vulnerability. You were just so frail, so fragile.

“I can imagine.” His voice was low, he didn’t want to let go of your arm.

There was a ghost in your apartment and you were in imminent danger. He had to do something, find an inconspicuous way to work the case. Wait, ‘work the case’? But… he was out, he was done hunting, he left the family business behind, and he built a new life for himself. Yeah, that’s right, he was done. He should just call in a favor from Bobby and get that ghost out of your house, that’s all. He didn’t need to be the one to do it and that would be better for the both of you. That would be healthy.

“Anyhow, sorry to dump all of this on you; my horrible apartment and all its problems.” You smiled at him and looked down, almost embarrassed.

You were so helpless, so unaware of your own mortality. Dean had no time to call Bobby, no way, he had to fix this himself. You could go home and die a bloody death today. And then that would be his fault, it would be his burden to carry, just like the death of his brother who he had sworn to protect no matter what. That was his job and he failed. He wouldn't fail you, too.

“Come on, it’s fine!” He was quick to reply. “That’s… that’s what friends are for.” He still hadn’t let go of your arm, drawing tiny circles on your skin with his thumb.

“Yeah, guess so.” You offered a nod, short and sweet, before moving to get up.

“Hey, Y/N, before you go, can I ask you something?” Dean’s pupils were dilated, even with the sun shining down upon him. It was the adrenaline, it was knowing that now he had a mission, a purpose, something that he had been missing for a long time. Too long, in his opinion.

“Sure.” You retorted, curious.

“That thing you said about not being able to take me as a patient, is that set in stone?”