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#it happened to me too. and i survived. and you will survive too. and one day none of this will matter.
leah-lover · 9 hours
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Sketches. Mapi x Ingrid x reader.
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Summary: what happens when Ingrid and mapi discover the sketches r drew of them.
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Doom scrolling on your phone after practice was your favorite activity of the day. You would come home exhausted, throw your kitbag in the hallway, and cocoon in your coach for about an hour.
Today was no different. You got home and did the same thing. You opened TikTok, and scrolled half mindedly. One video though grabbed your attention. It was a tik tok from the official page of Barcelona where your teammates were asked to describe you in a few words.
Cata was the first to answer and she did so by describing you as quiet. It was fair you didn't talk much if at all. It's not that you weren't comfortable enough with the team, you were just a quiet person. Irene was next and she called you kind which put a smile on your face. All your teammates called you different versions of sweet, kind, funny, quiet, and shy. You found their words endearing and it almost brought you to tears. This reaction quickly went away after you heard what mapi described you. “ Talented artist.” your face turned white and your heartbeat was accelerating. Her answer was followed by Ingrid who described you as an “ impressive painter.”
You dropped your phone quickly. “ No it can't be. No no no no. Fuck!!” You got up from the couch and tried to keep yourself busy. You put away your kit bag, did laundry , cleaned the house surprisingly thoroughly. You even meal prepped. all of this so that you wouldn't think about that video, their response, and what most likely saw.
Your alarm found you awake for the first time since the champion’s league final which spoke greatly to the anxiety you were experiencing. The thought of being face to face with them knowing that they know your secret terrified you but had to go to training so you did, and your mission was to get through the day without making contact with them because if you did you would either cry or throw up and that wasn't an option.
“ Nena what's wrong?” Asked Alexia at the meeting room.
“ Nothing capi everything is good.” You say trying to contain your tears. That's when she held your hand and redirected her focus to the coach. She rubbed her thumb across your knuckles once in a while. Once the meeting was over she pulled you gently out of the room and to a different room.
“ We are not getting out of this room until you tell me what is wrong.” Alexia looked so gentle, caring and a little bit worried. But you couldn't tell her what was wrong.
“ Nena I love you and I care about you deeply. Your anxiety is clearly through the roof. Just let me help you. We decided that you would let me help, remember.” She put her hand on your shoulder and desperately waited for an answer.
Alexia was like a big sister to you. She helped you survive your time in Barca but your issue right now was within the team not the pressure or the limelight and you know there was nothing to fix it.
“ I want a transfer. I want to leave Barcelona. I want to leave. “ You close your eyes so that you won't cry.
“ It's okay pequena everything is gonna be okay. I can fix this, whatever this is I can fix it. Trust me.” She pulled you in for a hug. Your anxiety was through the roof and the voices in your head were screaming vile and scary things at you.
“ I want to leave ale. I am serious.” You try to say sturnely.
“ You are one of your best strikers. We need you now more than ever if we want to quadruple again. And we do so you are staying.” She just held you as you cried some more.
Once you calmed down you apologized to Alexia. “ I guess you aren't gonna tell me right?” she asked again.
“ It's just about a stupid video.” You tried to stop the words as they were coming out of your mouth but it was too late.
“What video?” She asked suspiciously.
“ A video posted by the Barca page. It's nothing to worry about. Sorry capi, I didn't mean to freak out.”
“ It's fine Nena if you don't feel like training you can go home. “ She proposed after realizing you won't say anything.
“ Yeah I think that is a good idea.” You went to the locker room, grabbed your bag and left. Alexia then pulled out her phone and searched for the video you were talking about. She watched it 3 times and her teamates’s answers seemed fine, but she got suspicious of mapi and Ingrid's answers so she went to talk to them.
“ Maria, Ingrid, I need to talk to you.” Demanded the captain. They complied and waited for her at the side of the pitch.
“ Where is Nena?” Asked mapi.
“ That's what I am here to talk to you about. She went home now. I just managed to calm her down but she isn't okay. She was crying and she said she wanted a transfer from this team. She also said something about a video the social media team posted. I didn't understand anything.” Mapi and Ingrid gave one another a look they both understood. They knew what troubled you and they felt bad for it.
“ Don't worry about it ale. We will make things right, I promise you.” Said Ingrid.
“So you did something wrong. You hurt her somehow” Alexia started to frown with anger.
“ Ale calm down, I will tell you everything just not now. Everything will be alright tomorrow.”
“Well it better fucking be or you will answer to me.” added the captain before leaving.
When you arrived home your head was pounding because of the crying so you headed straight to your bedroom, got under the covers and slept almost immediately, too tired to do anything else. You only woke up when your phone was buzzing under your pillow.
“ Hola” you answered without checking who is calling.
“ Hola Nena, I need you to open the door. We are standing outside.” Said a familiar voice.
You put your phone to the side and went straight to your door not realizing what you were doing.
Once you opened the door, your eyes opened wide, surprised at who was at your door. You stood there like a statue trying desperately to calm the voices in your head.
“Nena , please let us in, we need to talk to you.” said ingrid in the gentlest voice you ever heard.
You couldn't kick them out so you stepped aside and let them get in. By the time you got to the living room your heart was beating very fast, each breath was harder and harder and the walls around you started to close in on you. Mapi was the first one to notice so she came running towards you. She took your hand, guided you to the couch and started to construct you to take deep breaths.
“ I am gonna leave. Transfer window is in 2 weeks so the coach has enough time to secure a deal with a new team. Even if they dont we can fake an injury for the media and I can just stay home until the summer where we can look again for another deal. You don't have to worry about anything. I won't cause any problems i swear. . ” you say once you get your breath back.
“ nena why do you think anybody wants you to leave?” askes ingrid.
“ I know you think I am a creep, I understand that. I don't want to cause any problems within the team so I am leaving.” you try to say as calmly as you can.
“ nena we don't think you are creepy.” replied mapi. You look at them with confusion. What if you understood everything all wrong? what if you had jumped to false confusion? What if this was all a misunderstanding from you part?
“ You said in that video that I draw really well. I never showed you any of my drawings so that means that you saw them.” you try to piece everything together.
They both look at eachother hesitantly before ingrid starts talking.
“ The other day in the locker room you wanted to talk to the physio and left your ipad open, that's when I saw a drawing of myself and I zoomed out to see the full picture. I then accidentally swiped and saw that you drew a few portraits of me and mapi separately and together.” you knew that they saw the portraits, but hearing the words come out of ingrid’s mouth made the situation much worse for you. Those drawings were something sacred and intimate to you. You expressed your every thought through them. They were your safe space and they gave solace. But now they have changed into a nightmare that would force you to leave your favorite place in the world.
“ Did you see all of them?” your voice seemed to have shrunk and as you ask the question staring at the floor.
“ yes but we don't think it's creepy. We think it's beautiful that you drew us.” mapi didn't know what to say. She was afraid that she said the wrong thing and made the situation worse.
“ mapi you saw 79 portraits of you and your girlfriend on my ipad. Very detailed portraits of the two of you that I drew when I was near you in the meeting room or training or the dinner hall or even my own bedroom and you don't think that that’s a little bit sick.” you ask the question sarcastically.
“ No we don't. look we didn't come here to fight with you or reprimand you we….” you didn't let ingrid finish her sentence, you instead got up, grabbed your ipad and displayed the portraits for them.
“ You seriously don't think this portrait is creepy.” you show them a portrait you drew of them kissing. You weren't thinking of how embarrassing this moment was, you were trying to convince yourself that they hate you because it was better than the alternative. “ Look, I hate myself for this more than you could ever hate me. That's why I want to leave. I am not going to make you feel uncomfortable anymore. “
“ can you please just shut up for a moment. We don't hate you, we don't find you creepy, we liked what we saw, and we think you are very talented. Please don't turn this into something it's not. And please don't ask for a transfer.” mapi didn't mean for her words to come out like that but she couldn't stand seeing the hurt on your face.
“ Look what Maria means to say is that it's all good with us. You don't have to worry about anything and that we are sorry we brought it up in the first place.” ingrid then extended her arms and offered you a hug which you took. You hugged her and mapi again as they left your apartment. Once you found yourself alone in your house again you grabbed your ipad and smashed it to the ground cracking the screen. You left it there on the ground and went straight to bed.
While you slept soundly the couple were the ones that would stay awake late at night.
' you shouldn't have said it like that maria.’ reprimanded ingrid.
“ What did you want me to do? I couldn't just sit there and let her insult herself.” defended mapi.
“ I don't think we handled it right. We should have talked to her more.”
“ you have seen her when she closes herself off. You can't break through when she does that. Once she convinced herself with something you can't undo it. And now she convinced herself that we hate her which isn't true.”
“ We have to find a way to convince her otherwise. She can't leave.”
“ she won't, amor.”
The next day was travel day and you were the first on that bus. You sat in the front, put on your head phones and closed your eyes. The team knew from alexia not to bother you and alexia was informed by ingrid and mapi to let them handle your situation.
You didn't hear anybody get on the bus, you only realized what was happening when the bus started moving. You weren't bothered for the first 20 minutes of the ride but that didn't last long because somebody snatched an airpod from your ear.
“ No iPad today?” asked a smiling mapi who sat next to you . Ingrid sat in front of you.
“ No, I gave that up.”
“ It's a shame you were very good at it.” she responded.
“ Since when did you start drawing?” asked ingrid.
“ since I was a kid. My therapist used to encourage me to do it because I wasn't so good at expressing what i am feeling.”
“ and these drawings help you express your feelings?” you knew what ingrid was getting to and you didn't want to go there so you went for your phone to try and increase the volume of the airpod left in your ear but ingrid’s hand got to it first.
“ Yesterday we were scared that we would say the wrong thing. But today I would rather say the wrong thing than lose you nena.” what ingrid said shocked you.
“ So you were saying that drawing helps you express things right?” continues mapi.
“ yeah. I am not very good at words. I never was so I drew all the words I couldn't say. “
“ Do you have your ipad with you?” asked ingrid.
“ No, I don't have an ipad anymore i smashed it yesterday.”
“ why?”
“ because….” you were quickly interrupted by mapi “ don't you dare say it's creepy.”
A staff member interrupts your conversation by putting an envelope on the table.
“ room 1209, 3 beds like you asked.” she said looking at mapi.
“ What did you do?” you ask confused.
“ I am making sure you are not leaving.”
The bus stopped so you couldn't continue the conversation. You weren't left any room to protest the decision that was made for you as the couple were more stubborn than you are.
Once you got in the room you were hit with the reality that you were going to have to sleep in the same room as them.
“ mapi i can't stay here.”
“ why not?”
“ You know the reason why.”
“ No we dont.” said ingrid.
“ Please don't make me go through this. I promise I won't leave, just please don't make me.”
“ I don't understand why you are so upset right now. We are just going to share a room.
The couple knew that playing dumb would anger you enough that you would start talking. The melancholic look on their faces hit the nail on the head.
“ i cant be here because of the same reason i drew those fucking drawing.. I tried to get you out of my head by drawing you and fantasizing about you but i can't stay stop whatever i am feeling from coming out when i'm sleeping and you are cuddling next to me.”
“ Why would that bother you?” they continued to play on your built up anger.
“ It bothers me because I want to be in the middle of you. I want to be with you. That's why I drew you, that's why I fantasize about it and that's why I can't sleep here.” you weren't realizing what you were saying not until you said it and it hit you like a truck.
Suddenly , you see the couple moving two beds together, taking off their shoes, and laying on the bed. Ingrid then taps on the space between them calling you over.
“ you gotta be fucking kidding me?” you say.
“ We knew what you felt the day we saw you drawing but we thought we were just reaching or projecting our feelings towards you. Since yesterday we were trying to get you to admit your feelings so that we would do too but you kept on insulting yourself which was nice by the way so we resulted in playing dumb which clearly worked. “ said mapi.
“ We care about you, we don't want to lose you. We don't have to figure out everything right now so just come and lay with us please. “ added ingrid.
You were moving on autopilot when you took off your shoes and layed in the middle of the bed between them . you stared at ingrid’s eyes for long time before you moved or spoke.
“ Your eyes are so beautiful I could never capture them in a drawing.” you then look over at mapi “ and you smile i don't think i have never seen it up close. This is too much.” you try to get up but they stop you.
“ We don't have to do anything right now.” mapi handed you a notebook and a pen.
“ Why don't you draw this moment now.” you take the pen and the biggest smile spreads on your face as you get up, look at them, and start drawing as they admired you.
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bookwormjust · 17 hours
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Unable to sleep when Rhys is away (established relationship with Rhysand)
The nights without him have been endless. The absence of Rhysand, your mate, has left an unbearable emptiness in the bed you once shared. You’ve tried to sleep, but every time you close your eyes, you feel the cold void where his warmth should be. The bond between you thrums weakly, a faint thread of comfort, but it’s not enough to quell the longing, the ache that only his presence can soothe.
Rhysand had been called away on some sort of meeting/mission with others High Lords that stretched into weeks, leaving you alone in the Night Court’s palace. You had known this would happen—missions for the Court were dangerous and necessary—but nothing had prepared you for how deeply his absence would affect you. 
The first few nights had been the worst, tossing and turning, your heart pounding every time you woke in the middle of the night, reaching for him only to find empty sheets. Eventually, you gave up on sleep altogether, diving headfirst into your work to distract yourself from the gnawing loneliness. You buried yourself in documents, meetings, and Court matters, doing everything in your power to keep your mind from spiraling.
But it wasn’t enough.
Days passed in a blur, and you became a ghost in your own palace, surviving on little more than coffee, fading daylight, and sheer willpower. You avoided mirrors, knowing the reflection staring back would be nothing but dark circles under dull eyes, your skin pale from lack of rest. Even Mor had tried to help, suggesting you take breaks or get some sleep, but you just couldn’t. The bed was too empty, the silence too loud.
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One night, deep into the hours when the palace was quiet, you sit hunched over your desk in your study, papers scattered everywhere. Your eyes burn from staring at the documents too long, and your hand trembles as you try to focus on the lines of text in front of you. You don’t even know what you’re reading anymore, the words blurring together as exhaustion claws at you.
A small part of you knows you should stop, that you’re pushing yourself too far, but you can’t help it. If you stop, the silence returns. And with it, the weight of missing him crashes down again.
You don’t even realize you’ve drifted off, your head slumping forward against the desk, when a sudden, familiar warmth fills the room. A heartbeat later, the soft thud of boots on the floor makes your heart skip a beat.
“*Y/N darling, you’re going to work yourself to death if you keep this up.*”
Rhysand’s voice. Your heart stutters, disbelief flooding through your veins. You sit up, blinking through your exhaustion, and there he is, standing in the doorway, his dark wings casting shadows against the soft moonlight filtering through the window. His violet eyes are locked onto yours, concern etched into his features.
For a moment, you think you’re dreaming, that exhaustion has finally gotten the best of you and your mind is playing cruel tricks. But then he steps forward, closing the distance between you in a heartbeat, his hand cupping your cheek with such tenderness that it brings tears to your eyes.
“Rhys?” you whisper, your voice hoarse from disuse, your fingers trembling as they reach for him, needing to know he’s real.
“I’m here, love,” he murmurs, pressing his forehead against yours. “I’m sorry it took so long.”
You let out a shaky breath, leaning into his touch, your hands gripping the front of his jacket as if he might vanish again. “I couldn’t sleep without you,” you admit, your voice cracking under the weight of all the sleepless nights. “I couldn’t...”
Rhysand’s eyes darken with guilt as he wraps his arms around you, pulling you into his chest, his wings folding around the both of you in a cocoon of warmth. “You should’ve sent for me sooner,” he says softly, his hand running through your hair. “I could feel your exhaustion, but I didn’t realize it was this bad.”
“I didn’t want to distract you,” you say, your words muffled against his chest. “You had enough to deal with.”
He pulls back just enough to look at you, his thumb brushing tenderly over the dark circles under your eyes. “You are *never* a distraction, my love. You are my priority. Always.”
The emotion in his voice, the depth of his concern, nearly undoes you. Tears prick at your eyes, and you bury your face in the crook of his neck, letting his scent, his presence, fill the empty spaces that had been haunting you for weeks.
“You’re exhausted,” Rhysand whispers, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “Let me take care of you.”
You nod, too tired to protest. He lifts you effortlessly into his arms, carrying you toward the bed, his wings brushing against your skin as he moves. The bed feels softer than you remember, and with Rhysand lowering you gently onto the mattress, the weight of your exhaustion finally catches up to you.
He slides in beside you, pulling you close against his chest, his hand rubbing soothing circles on your back. “Rest, darling,” he murmurs, his voice low and filled with love. “I’m not going anywhere. I’m here.”
With his arms around you, his presence so tangible and real, the tension in your body begins to unravel. The bond between you thrums warmly, a comforting melody that lulls you into a peaceful state. You close your eyes, your body finally relaxing for the first time in weeks. Sleep takes you quickly, but not before you hear him whisper against your hair, “I love you my mate.”
And with him beside you, everything feels right again.
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dovesdreaming · 1 day
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Deadpools guide to keeping you alive
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Summary: You have a habit of reminding everyone to take care of themselves, even though you often forget to do it for yourself. Wade, being Wade, notices, and in his own ridiculous yet sweet way, steps in to help you remember the little things.
Request
Masterlist
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You sat on the couch, curled up with your phone, scrolling aimlessly through social media while Wade, in full Deadpool attire, was standing on the coffee table, striking ridiculous superhero poses for no apparent reason. He’d started doing it about ten minutes ago, just because he could. One hand on his hip, the other flexed, he looked like a cross between a professional wrestler and an action figure from the 90s. "Looking good, Wade” you said absently, not even glancing up from your screen. "Have you had any water today?". “Hydration is for the weak!" he declared, though he immediately reached for the water bottle you’d left on the coffee table and took a big gulp, mask and all. You weren’t entirely sure how it worked, but you’d stopped asking those kinds of questions a long time ago. You smiled at his antics and shifted, feeling a little light-headed, but brushed it off. It happened sometimes. Not a big deal. Wade, however, noticed the slight wobble in your movement. He paused mid-pose, tilting his head toward you. "Hey, babe, you okay? You look like you’re about to pass out faster than I can regenerate a new spleen”.
You waved him off, though your stomach growled quietly. "Yeah, I’m fine. Just haven’t eaten yet, I guess. No big deal”. Wade’s eyes widened beneath his mask, and he jumped off the coffee table with a surprisingly graceful landing. "Uh, what? You guess? You haven’t eaten yet?" He checked the clock on the wall. "It’s 4 PM. That's not 'yet,' that’s 'barely survived on air alone!”. You frowned, genuinely surprised by the time. You’d gotten up early that morning, thrown yourself into work, and totally lost track of everything else. Again. “Oh…” You blinked. “Right. Oops?”.
Wade crossed his arms and gave you a look you knew well, the ‘I’m about to be ridiculous but also right’ look. “Let me get this straight: you’ve reminded me, multiple times, to drink water today-thank you for that, by the way-but you forgot to eat?” You shrugged, trying to play it off, though the light-headedness was starting to catch up to you. “I get distracted, okay? I’ve got a lot going on in my head sometimes”. Wade didn’t argue with that. Instead, he sighed and sat down next to you, pulling you into his side. “Alright, here's the deal. You’re gonna sit right here, not move a muscle- except to blink, breathe, and keep that heart pumping I guess, and I’m gonna make you some food”.
You started to protest. “Wade, you don’t have to-“ But he was already up, bounding toward the kitchen with surprising energy for a guy who’d been play posing on a coffee table moments before. “I do have to! Because apparently, you’d forget your head if it wasn’t attached, and I can’t have that, babe. You’d look weird without it”. You chuckled as you watched him dig through the fridge, though there was a part of you that felt a little guilty. This wasn’t the first time you’d forgotten something important. Wade had found you passed out on the couch before because you’d stayed up working for nearly two days straight. And then there was the time you forgot to drink for an entire day while binge watching a new show. Wade had quickly gotten you a glass of whatever was closest whilst gently scolding you.
Still, despite your forgetfulness, you always made sure to look out for your friends. You’d tell Wade, and anyone else, to “drink more water!” or “take breaks!” but when it came to yourself, you… just forgot. It wasn’t on purpose. It was like your brain got too full, and the little things just slipped through the cracks. You were pulled out of your thoughts by the clatter of pots and pans in the kitchen. Wade was muttering to himself, something about "smoking chimichangas" and “how do normal people make sandwiches without a sword?” But a few minutes later, he returned with a plate in hand, two sandwiches that looked like they’d survived a battle, but were clearly made with love. “Behold!” Wade declared, placing the plate on your lap with a flourish. “A culinary masterpiece. You won’t find this in any Michelin-star restaurant, because they can’t handle the truth”.
You couldn’t help but smile. “Thanks, Wade. You didn’t have to, really”. “Of course I did” he said, sitting back down beside you, much more gently this time. “Somebody’s gotta make sure you remember to do basic human things, like eating and sleeping and not turning into a raisin from dehydration”. You took a bite of the sandwich, feeling instantly better. “It’s good” you said through a mouthful of food. “Of course it is. I’m Deadpool. I don’t make bad sandwiches” he replied, leaning in to nudge you with his elbow. “But seriously, you gotta start taking care of yourself. I mean, I can regenerate my liver if it gives out, but you? You get one shot at this whole ‘being alive’ thing”.
You swallowed and nodded, feeling a little sheepish. “I know, I just… I get so caught up in things, I forget”. Wade looked at you, and even through the mask, you could feel the softness in his gaze. He reached over, pulling you into a side hug. “You know what, babe? That’s what I’m here for. To remind you to do all that boring, vital stuff. You remind me to drink water, I remind you to, you know, live. We balance each other out”.
You rested your head on his shoulder, sandwich still in hand. “Yeah, I guess we do”. “And from now on” Wade said, his voice full of determination, “I’m going to make sure you never forget again. I’ll be your personal reminder system. Forget to eat? I’ll hand-feed you if I have to. Forget to sleep? I’ll tuck you in with my very own beddy-bye song. And forget to shower? Well, I’ll.. okay, I’ll just throw you in the shower with a loofah grenade”.
You laughed, the sound muffled by another bite of your sandwich. “I don’t know if I should be scared or touched by that”. “Touched” Wade said, pulling you closer. “Definitely touched. In the heart, not the weird way. Unless you want it to be the weird way. I’m flexible”. You smiled, warmth filling your chest. “Thanks, Wade”. “Don’t mention it, babe” he said softly. Then he looked down at you, his voice dropping to a playful whisper. “Now, finish that sandwich and then we’re going to bed. Not for the fun stuff, mind you, unless you’re into that, but because you need to sleep. Doctor Deadpool’s orders”. You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t deny the yawn that followed. “Fine, but only because Doctor Deadpool said so”. “That’s the spirit!” Wade cheered, and with a surprisingly gentle tug, he pulled you up off the couch and toward the bedroom, all while mumbling something about setting hydration alarms and taping snack bars to the walls as reminders.
And as you curled up in bed that night, Wade snuggled up next to you, you couldn’t help but feel grateful. Because even when you forgot to take care of yourself, Wade was always there to remind you, whether it was about drinking water, getting enough sleep, or just eating a simple sandwich.
And really, that was all you needed.
-
Thank you for reading!!
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lurukifennecfox · 14 hours
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i had an idea that while Halfas can die and become full ghosts it is still hard to kill them
in ghost form the can get survive same as full ghosts (even if the get their head cut off they can just put it back in place) so they are basically immortal-ish there.
in human form they are way more durable than average human but still. they can get hurt more meaningfully than in ghost form and still feel pain so can't exactly shrug it off.
as such they instinctively transform if the damage is bad enough to risk their lives and because the injuries translate to forms if the injuries in ghost form are bad enough they get that block on transforming back to human like you'd get if you tried to put your hand in boiling water.
you can but your survival instincts say nu-huh so you just don't.
my brain also gave me a scene(incomplete and in video format so that's what you get)
** Danny in human form, for whatever reason there happens an explosion near and he's startled and getting, well, blown off so he's hurt from the explosion and mid-flight transforms into Phantom (no one could see that because there's still a ton of fire happening from literally explosion taking place?). **
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Danny is desoriented and kinda not feelin' it because duh.
"Ugh" he gets up into a sitting position and finds himself in ghost form, confused, he must have transformed and haven't noticed somehow? someone is calling him.
"Phantom!" someone staggers closer clearly panicked and limping, which makes sense considering the current situation.
"Phantom what happened?? i saw Danny there is he okay???"
Phantom panics a little himself and kinda hysterically laughs "i hope so!" then takes an unnecessary breath to calm down and explains hurriedly standing to his feet. "i portaled him to my lair so he should-"
he was interrupted by the person he was talking to "oh Ancients! are you okay??"
he looks down to where the person is looking to find out he very much looks blown up at the moment exept in green... which he hadn't noticed before and the sight makes him queasy.
he knows he will heal up in a few hours tho, or a day? depends. ouff that hand looks like it barely hangs on how did he use it to prop himself up??? "at least everything's attached, eh it'll be fine in a few hours"
he elects to not think about it and better think about whether or not it's too traumatising to see for him to check up on other people who were in radius (not as close as him, hopefully no casualties)
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he will freak out later thinking he actually fully died, because he tried to transform back and couldn't (boiling water thing), but nope he just didn't wait long enough for his body to stich together the very important internal organs.
he should just wait and idk? go socialise since he doesn't look gorey anymore.
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regretsofaghost · 1 day
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Survival May Be the Hardest Part
part 1- I Couldn't Give What It Cost Me
ao3 link- here
Danny couldn’t focus.
He needed to focus, to save, to keep something, with Batman. From Batman?
                Danny kept looking in his peripherals, images of white suited men, teal and bright orange HAZMAT suits, people that left before he could get a clear look at them.
                He needed to know for sure.
                He couldn’t.
                Phantom stepped away from Batman, unused to the feeling of wind on his bare face as he flew up. He hoped the other man was okay, but he had a feeling that he wasn’t. Whatever he saw when Phantom had removed his mask had shaken the older hero.
                Phantom could power through most things, he had to.
                Phantom was the only thing standing between ghosts and the living.
                The only thing that wanted both sides to be safe.
                Was Scarecrow ready for a real ghost?
                A real manifestation of fear, of the dead? Something so otherworldly that you could just barely comprehend it?
                Phantom didn’t really understand what he did. All he knew for sure was that he didn’t want anyone hurt, including Scarecrow.
                He couldn’t give into his urges like he had with Freakshow.
                Danny liked the stars; he liked them a lot.
                It’s one of the reasons he loved Amity Park so much, the night sky was so clear that he could see distant stars and planets, some nights the Milky Way looked close enough to touch.
                It was one of the only things he could think of while under Freakshow’s influence, his stars. Danny couldn’t remember much other than his stars, how odd it was that they were tinted ever so slightly red, his eyes drifting to the sky at every opportunity.
                Sam liked to say it was that reason she knew she wouldn’t die from her fall off the tightrope. If Danny could remember his stars, if he could seek them out and lose himself to them like he normally would, he would remember Sam and Tucker.
                Bruce had been keeping an eye on the new meta in Gotham, a mysterious figure who wore a black HAZMAT suit, complete with a gas mask which obscured their face. Of course, Batman had wanted to meet this figure, but the Family was having trouble setting up a meeting.
                Their abilities made tracking them near impossible, new powers seemingly appearing every week. Or perhaps the meta refrained from using their full arsenal, it was impossible to tell. Intangibility made them impossible to contain, flight made them harder to catch, invisibility made the Family lose track of them regularly. That was ignoring how the meta messed with their technology, much of it shorting out when they got close enough to detect them.
                It was like they were dealing with a real ghost.
                Running the meta’s appearance through reverse image searches lead the Family to social media, where Barbara was able to get past a fire wall surrounding a small town. Phantom was their, or rather his, name. He was a hero, or a vigilante, or a villain, depending on who you asked. He appeared to exhibit villainous behaviour at points, however with how rare it was, mind control in those instances was not ruled out.
                Amity Park had a ghost problem, and it seemed that they received a ghost savior in the process.
                Bruce didn’t know what to think of that.
                Danny remembered stars.
                He kept looking up, hoping to see the tiny specks in the distance, the moon should be full.
                The smog was too thick to see through.
                He wanted to see his stars.
                It was dark. There was a thunderstorm happening, flashed of bright light followed by booms of thunder every few minutes. Just enough time for Danny to relax, never enough to feel safe.
                He forgot about those fears. Those childish fears of the dark, the ingrained fear of electricity.
                Maybe that’s why the lightning looked more green than white, like it should.
                He had to protect them. He had to find Scarecrow.
                Target the ghost, the perpetrator, help deal with the fallout afterward.
                Danny’s face was wet, he didn’t realize rain could touch a ghost.
                Scrodinger’s cat, neither dead nor alive till you opened the box, both dead and alive till you lifted the lid.
                Danny didn’t want to open the box.
                Phantom drifted upward, eyes scanning for Scarecrow, recognizing the dissociation for what it was.
                If he didn’t register the white, teal, and orange, he could do it.
                Bingo.
                Scarecrow was in front of him, taunting? The rain was too loud, the lightning too distracting. Phantom couldn’t tell, couldn’t see his mouth, the mask over the other’s face.
                Phantom lifted a gloved hand, sending a weaker ghost ray towards the man. Scarecrow was still sent back into the building behind him.
                Maybe he wasn’t as present as he thought.
                Fear gas was still thick in the air, Phantom could still see the Fentons in the corners of his vision, gloves bloody and suits damaged, he didn’t hurt them. Did he? He wouldn’t, he couldn’t.
                Phantom stood over Scarecrow, tilting his head at the odd energy surrounding the man. He hadn’t seen ghosts react like that before, the way they seemed desperate to get away, only to be pulled back in, like the man was a drain they couldn’t escape.
                Danny thought of a mixture of red and green going down the drain.
                The Bats were busy, Batman was closer than he usually got.
                Batman still had Phantom’s mask on.
                Batman could still see Danny’s face.
                “Do you know fear?” Phantom found himself asking, looking down at the Scarecrow. His voice sounded so odd without the muffling of his mask, that was until he remembered that his voice was not coming strictly from his mouth. It was also coming out of the speakers in the area, a damaged store’s intercom, a police car’s siren, com links. It made his voice crackle, high and low frequencies cutting in and out.
                It nearly sounded like he was borrowing others’ voices.
                The Scarecrow struggled to answer, which was odd. Phantom didn’t want to know why he struggled.
                “I think you think you know fear, Scarecrow,” Phantom breathed out, the crackle worsening in the speaker closest to him, “you know it’s not simply what goes bump in the night.”
                Phantom walked closer, white, teal, orange, orange, white, teal, orange.
                There was a boom of thunder in the distance, a flash of green lightening illuminating Danny’s face.
                White, teal, red, red, orange, red, white, green, white, teal, orange.
                “Phobias are easy. The best way to scare someone is with rational fears. Something that can, and will, harm them.”
                White, teal, orange.
                “Are you afraid of ghosts, Doctor Crane?”
                Phantom kept looking up at the sky. Bruce wasn’t sure why.
                There was almost longing in his young face, jaw still soft with age despite the malnourished way his cheeks sunk in. His green eyes were hazy, never truly focusing, even as he searched for something he seemed to struggle to find. His white hair whipped around his face, shaggy in a way that suggested it was kept short but had grown out.
                Phantom was young, younger than estimates suggested. Why was a child wearing a HAZMAT suit? Why did he seem so proficient in engineering?
                Phantom asked Scarecrow if he was afraid of ghosts.
                What killed a child in a HAZMAT suit?
                What prompted Phantom into giving Bruce his mask?
                Phantom wasn’t reacting like one normally would under fear gas, but Bruce knew it wasn’t because he was immune.
                Maybe it was because he was a dad, but he knew when a child was scared, and Phantom was terrified.
                Danny remembered searching for the stars, before he was diving to save a Robin from falling.
                Freakshow never really learned, he was human, but he was the same as the ghosts he took over. Never really learning from his mistakes.
                Or maybe he thought he figured Phantom out.
                Danny could remember holding Freakshow over the ledge, his staff broken below them.
                He could remember the feeling of Freakshow’s suit jacket in his hands, the rubber of his gloves just barely slipping.
                “You got your sequel, I’m not letting you make it a trilogy.”
                His hand let go.
                Phantom let Lady Gotham take Freakshow, leaving before the Bats could arrive.
                Phantom was standing over Scarecrow.
                He was so small, how did they ever think he was older than 18.
                Scrodinger’s cat, dead and alive.
                Phantom had a civilian identity.
                “Oracle?”
                “B-zzzzzz-t’s? C-zzzz-me? -zzzzzz- get a-zzzzz-al.”
                No luck, it’ll have to wait.
                Batman was slow to approach.
                There was no need to scare the kid further, with what he’s seen so far, Phantom wouldn’t hurt him, but fear gas was powerful.
                “Phantom?”
                The ghost turned towards him, and Bruce had to breathe deeply as his body tensed, chills running down his spine, his palms went sweaty.
                All precursors to fear that Batman was used to ignoring.
                “We’ll lock him up. Let me take him.”
                Bright green eyes, hazy, hands loose at his sides. Phantom was terrified, but he didn’t act on it. Strange.
Phantom’s eyes darted back and forth, trying to catch something that wasn’t there. His breath was coming out in puffs of mist, despite the temperature, though Bruce couldn’t complain, the mist meant he could tell that the child was hyperventilating.
                Scrodinger’s cat, both dead and alive
                Bruce hoped his comment about fear wasn’t from experience. He knew it was.
                “Phantom, let me take Scarecrow,” Bruce put a bit more of a demand behind his words, taking a small step forward. He held his hands within view, making it clear he had nothing in them, and wasn’t reaching for anything.
                Phantom watched him so closely, he probably forgot his face was exposed. He let Batman get close though.
                The fear gas was slowly dissipating around them. Good, they had Scarecrow, the others had taken care of the gas, and now, Bruce was within ten feet of the mysterious meta who had managed to avoid the full force of Gotham’s vigilantes.
                Phantom watched as Batman cuffed the Scarecrow, the masked villain never letting his eyes leave the ghost.
                Phantom looked towards the sky again, seeing a glimpse of the night sky, a single star, before there was a shooting pain through his side.
                The ghost came crashing to the ground, the pain a terrifying familiar feeling, Danny struggled to keep his transformation up, even as his eyes darted around the crowd, white, white, white.
                Teal, orange.
                White.
                Phantom was gone.
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hello, i've been on the aziraphale-centric fics kick because he is one of my favorite characters ever :( <33 i wondered if you all have any azi centric fics to recommend? i really like hurt/comfort and hurt aziraphale :-) thank u <3
Hi. We have some Aziraphale-centric fics here, so check those out (it includes that one you're thinking of, so you don't need to add it in the notes). Here are some more...
A Gradual Acceleration by PunJedi (G)
Aziraphale has to deal with 6000 years worth of pent-up feelings and what happens when the world doesn't end on schedule. It's a tricky thing, love; his modus operandi has been to ignore it. But there reaches a point at which it simply cannot be ignored. Crowley is willing to wait, though.
It's Not The End Of The World by mellohirust (T)
“I think I'm still worried about… our old sides.” This is where he expects said bomb to explode. This is his fatal flaw, that he hasn't actually moved on, that things aren't actually as over as he wants them to be. It's all they've ever wanted, and they didn't truly have it. Not in his mind. Not somewhere deep within him, like a disease, like something he couldn't pry out of him. How selfish would he be, to drag the other down with him just for reassurance, force him to relive it all? Crowley stays quiet. Aziraphale feels as if he's confessed to something awful, like a part of him was fundamentally incompatible with the other. Aziraphale suspects both of these things could be the case and Crowley would love him anyway. He has it written down, somewhere in his mind, what Crowley ought to say. It’s not what he actually winds up saying. “Yeah,” the other finally mumbled, after what felt like eternity. He draws a breath. “Yeah, me too.” - Aziraphale hasn't been able to let himself rest in six thousand years. Crowley's determined to help him change that, even if addressing the root of the problem is more unpleasant and complicated than either would've hoped for.
So Still I Wait by HotCrossPigeon (T)
Aziraphale asks one too many questions. What is Heaven to do with their wayward Principality? Crowley picks up the pieces. (Solitary confinement warning)
A Hard World for Little Things by GiggleSnortBangDead (E)
When the Almighty Lord created the universe and decided that desire would exist within it, They hadn’t exactly said: “This shall go on top, and this on bottom.” But there was an ordering of things and a hierarchy of desire. That’s how it was explained to Aziraphale. All of us serve, he had been taught, and some of us are happy to serve a little more.
Night and Day by wyrmy (E)
Aziraphale Engel, black sheep of his strictly religious family, lives a quiet and monkish existence in the middle of London, trying to avoid the many temptations of the flesh and do his bit for the church that his father founded. But his quiet, untroubled, and unhappily narrow existence is about to come to an end, and he will be faced with the choice to give up even more of who he is or to survive in the real world.
Smitten at First Fright by Oopsynini (M)
Aziraphale has problems. No one needs to tell him so, he's well aware that his issues are many and in-between. He's an agoraphobic shut-in with a bad back and a sad past. It's a rule that, to most, he isn't much worth the effort of getting to know. Crowley doesn't seem to abide by any of that. He's an enigmatic gardener with a green thumb and a smile a thousand miles wide. It's something like love at first sight; if that included a panic attack and a minor foray into bird watching. Aziraphale is smitten, now if only he could get past his fears and admit it.
- Mod D
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nevermorgue · 2 days
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ms hayley ! !! do you have hc's for how eulalie would interact with the misfit's cast? I feel like she'd get along with them all save for Montresor and will but I need eulalie content 🙏🏻
omg hiii. I think you meant to say annabel’s team because you brought up monty but I GOT YOU. I got you.
With Annabel
- Annabel finds her very odd. She is a bit bothered by how unpredictable Eulalie can be with her blunt words and tendency to not properly understand all social cues. Annabel Lee is a woman used to talking to people that are playing the game she is, so this is not something she is used to. - Eulalie is very perceptive, much to Annabel Lee's dismay. She notices when Annabel is mildly irritated by the way her eyebrows shift on her face. - Eulalie asks Annabel to give her doll curls like her. She does not (and cannot). - Annabel is horrified to see Eulalie putting two different tea bags into one cup. She wants to see what the flavors taste like together. - Eulalie isn't terrible at chess. Not on Annabel's level, but she doesn't mind playing against her. - Eulalie asks her one day why she's mean. Annabel simply responds with "Think me mean if you wish, I am simply surviving." Then Eulalie says something like "What is the point in surviving if you're all alone by the end?" She bites her tongue. She cannot tell Eulalie that she will never be alone as long as she has Lenore.
With Ada
- Honestly I think this could go both ways.
- Ada calls her creepy and finds her weird, but she doesn’t really dislike her company.
- Eulalie thinks she’s pretty! She likes touching Ada’s hair bow.
- Asks to borrow said hair bow. Ada only agrees because someone wanting to look like her NEVER happens.
- Ada is jealous of her singing voice.
- Eulalie mentions something about the length of the small intestine and Ada feels sick She just remembers an ax to the stomach.
- Eulalie tells her that she’s pretty a lot and Ada gets kinda mad bc she assumes Eulalie is lying to her because of her tone/the way she speaks.
- “Why would you think you’re not pretty?”
“Empty flattery will not get you anywhere with me!”
“It’s not empty. It’s quite full, really. You are pretty.”
- And she just struggles to believe it internally because compared to Annabel she doesn’t really feel pretty. But of course she just haughtily laughs and goes like “I know! Finally, you took notice!”
With Prospero - An unlikely duo. Eulalie is interested in his medical knowledge. He is mildly concerned about how much she knows about the human body despite having no medical career. - Eulalie's humming kinda reminds him of his mother. He'd rather die than say that. - She claims that he is mean too, but not as mean as Annabel. He takes mild offense. - She tries to curl a piece of her hair around her finger and put it in front of her face to copy his hairstyle. - Reading buddies. She'll blurt out a random fun fact about bones or something and he'll nod and add one of his own. Freaks. - Eulalie insists that when he's with her, all the "survival games" are set aside. She can tell it stresses him out. His hands tense up when he holds objects, and it's obvious even with the gloves. He's a jaw clencher too. With Montresor - As good as you'd expect it to be, really. - He calls her 'little miss' because she's anything but little. She literally would not care if it were anyone else but him. - He yanks at her sleeves because they're long and easy to grab. - "Why is everyone with great hair so mean?" "Aw, that's real kind of ya to say, little miss." "You’re horrible.”
- He tries to like intimidate her with close contact but she’s almost his height. Plus, she just doesn’t respond to that sort of thing.
- I think they’d be really interesting actually. He’s been compared to the devil, is considered demonic…and she has an interest in the occult. Imagine that.
With Will
- Honestly, not as bad as you might first think.
- She sort of pities him, but not really. He knows the choices he makes are bad.
- She’s happy to share things with him if he stares for a while. He’ll never dare ask for something, just kinda stare like a puppy until it’s offered. She won’t be cruel for no reason.
- She actually likes hearing about his writing journals.
- Will starts to instinctively study her face and body to learn how to become her even though he has no reason to. She can tell by the way he mumbles her words after she speaks sometimes.
- They’ll be sitting in silence and she’ll suddenly ask him what his loneliness feels like. Like uncomfortable questions that he can’t/doesn’t want to answer. But his reaction is enough of an answer.
- Allows him to turn into her so she can braid his hair.
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wings-of-ink · 2 days
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Since I'm feeling angsty after reading the "Why do you think I love you ask?" I came up with the following scenario (for Oswin alone):
So, MC learns they are not going to survive no matter what. And they should return home. By that point both Oswin's and MC's had confessed their love to each other. Yet, very much when they were about to reach MC's home so they could rest from the unsuccessful journey, MC falls from their horse.
Oswin, of course, goes to assist them. The fall, fortunately, didn't cause any damage. But even if it had, it wouldn't have changed anything. MC is about to die, and there is little to do now.
Oswin of course screams, so everyone can come. They are so close to home... Yet, maybe they won't reach them in time. Maybe Oswin alone would be the only one to be with MC when they eventually die.
MC stops Oswin with a gentle hand on his cheek. Their face, while sickly and full of sweat, somehow is as radiant as it could be. MC could be the sun, and Oswin was a simple planet orbiting around them. Their eyes, so calm, so loving. MC's voice is both tender and painfully weak as they say:
"Don't worry. It'll be fine. Could you just hold me? If there is anything in the other side... I want to go remembering your warmth... Your scent... Your embrace... Please Yarrow... Hold me, just once. I won't ask for more".
The childhood name had slipped from MC's mouth. Neither said a thing about it.
When everyone reaches them, MC is gone. A smile slowly fading from their face.
Ouch, Nony. You okay? This is rough. What makes it worse is that technically, if the curse does get the better of MC, this would happen on their 25th birthday. So yeah, that hurts a little extra, lol.
I don't have it in my soul to do a POV with this for poor Oswin (giving him a little break), but I can tell you some things he might do in response.
Not take it well, naturally. We're talking nuclear levels of not okay and unhealthy coping. It would take all his family and friends to keep him functioning and from working himself to death.
He'd change his name. No one can tell him no. If he was Yarrow in the end for MC, he will be Yarrow until the end of his days.
I don't think he could love again, not in the same way.
He'd quit is job and stay with his family, probably getting more obsessive over their care and well-being for a while. I am actually also thinking that Kip and Dov would be under this banner. I can honestly see Oswin moving in with them so they can be there for each other.
Grief would be a huge uphill battle for a tremendously long time. And it never is really over (grief never is) - time and space just lets him breathe a little easier. I think eventually he would meet some sort of peace, but it would take just so much time and working through. He would always look forward to meeting MC again in the hereafter. He secretly holds to the belief that their souls will be reincarnated together.
Thank you for the ask, Nony! We'll find something sweet today to go with this angst too. ^_^
Just a disclaimer: I don't have plans of killing off poor MC, not that life will be getting much easier for them or anything, lol. (I can't torture them if they're dead!)
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a
Yesterday i got the craziest message out of the blue .. My ex bf from 2011-2013's other ex gf who he was with before me hit me up to say that he got arrested?? And that her and like 5 other people are pressing charges against him for assault spanning across all different periods of time.. it's really wild idk how to feel. She said if i feel comfortable i can give my own testimony for when they go to court , even tho i dont live in england anymore.. Im like yeah honestly i will because like this dude is so unrelentingly violent and scary he legit almost killed me it was so extreme, i've known a lot of corrupt ppl but he is the only one i've always thought needs to be locked away from society like it's a murder scene waiting to happen not to mention he is just a straightup rapist
it's crazy too cus like 4 or 5 nights ago i had a dream that me and him and the girl who messaged me were all watching videos of ourselves in that time period like i even posted about it on here. i thought it was just a typical trauma processing dream not an actual premonition of something i would have to revisit irl
She said something about how she'd been looking back in her old fb messages with him to help paint a picture of the timeline so out of morbid curiosity today i checked to see if i still had ours. Sure enough i do, i've never looked at them retroactively before, but holy shit like... He is so much more of a monster than i even remembered, i dont get triggered easily anymore but it genuinely hurt my heart to see how horrible he was. Every conversation is just him snapping at me because i didnt respond to him fast enough or something so minor, and the whole time im just trying to apologize and de-escalate but it makes him more and more furious. the day before i was about to fly to london to move back in with him he was threatening to kill himself because i was going to my friends house to say bye to them. He was like "You're going to a party i just know it you're lying to me you'd never tell me you're really going to a party because you know i'm suicidal you've ruined my night you're a piece of shit" Like this was the NIGHT before i was about to leave everything behind just for him
i'm like rly shocked at everything i saw in that convo today im not even scratching the surface with this post. Anyways i guess it's cool that there is some justice happening right now and the people who survived him have been able to band together to try and ensure he can't hurt anyone else in the future. i rly wish none of us ever had to go thru any of that tho ugh i was so young i just really had no idea and it fucked me up for many many years afterwards. ive come a long way tho .
ill probly delete later cus idk who lurks this blog. i prefer not to show weakness :K But yeah.. just wanted to express this crazy unexpected life event and get it off my chest while its fresh
Peace and love !!!
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scribere-flores · 5 hours
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Sabo x Reader
~Just as a hypothetical question~
Part 5. Other Parts Word count: 3,8k words Short summary: Reader is preparing her escape, slowly losing it over her confusing feelings. Sabo is in his stalker era. AN: Dear God, I don't know what took over me when writing this. Let me begin with saying I don't condone stalking irl, this is just a silly self-indulgent fic. There is also mentions of a knife at one point, more as a joke, but it's there. Still nothing graphic. Smut will come in the next one, which will also be the last part. Thank you for reading!💕
MDNI 18+
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(This man is way too pretty for his own good)
___
Almost three days had passed since Y/N became aware of Sabo’s true identity. And of the real threat he posed to her. He was dangerous, not just because he probably could crush her windpipe with little to no effort.
No, the real reason Sabo was so dangerous was because of his goddamn charm. Always helpful, always making her flustered. Always making her laugh against her will. It was still impossible for her to keep it together when she was near him.
He was playing a sick, sadistic game with her feelings. He wanted to kill her for god sake! And, even though those horrid facts were clear to her, Y/N’s heart still wanted to jump out of her chest every time she saw him.
And that was probably saying more about how messed up she was. Desperately clinging to the first person that ever showed her concern, even though she knew it was fake. Pathetic.
She kept having this one recurring dream. Being alone in a dark room, until the door suddenly opens, and Sabo walks with a smug grin on his face.
He stands behind her, places her wrists behind her back, and then proceeds to let his hands travel all over her body. Cold leather from his gloves caressing her skin as he presses soft kisses down her neck and back.
His movements growing more impatient as he takes a strong grip around her hair, pulling her against him. Then, just before the dream ends, his other hand snakes around her neck, cutting the air from entering her lungs.
And it excites her! Y/N always wakes up feeling hot and tingly after that dream, which means that something must be seriously wrong with her.
The man wants to kill her and she gets excited by the thought of him choking her?! That can’t be normal, it just can’t.
Besides her internal crises that she still had the hots for her future potential murderer, everything else was going as planned. 
After spending a half-day crying over the fact that the handsome, cruel man had tricked her just for his own pleasure, Y/N finally pulled herself together and started planning her escape. She was not willingly staying in this cursed base just to later be dragged to the execution stand.
So she had made a list, things she needed to secure her safety once she left. All the things she had spent the last few days gathering. Things that now were securely kept in a bag in her closet. 
She had also visited the small library more than once, reading every book on wilderness survival she could find. Memorizing pictures of what plants were safe to eat and which ones she should avoid. It wouldn’t exactly be ideal if she ran away from torture and her own murder, just to then die of food poisoning.
Y/N had done all these things, and she was painfully aware of the fact that she had been watched. 
Sabo was always near, following her like some curious cat, trying to figure out what the mouse he was hunting was doing. She was the mouse in this scenario, and it was starting to get on her last nerve. 
He looked amused the entire time too, huge grin on his face, probably getting some twisted sense of pleasure from watching her from afar. It was annoying, and Y/N was pretty sure stalking counted as a crime. But so was trying to overthrow the World Government, so Sabo might just not care that he was breaking the law.
It didn’t matter anyways, she had already gathered everything she needed and her planned escape was happening tomorrow.
She was currently pacing back and forth in her room, trying to figure out if she had forgotten about something. 
Who was she kidding, she most definitely had.
She hadn’t stepped foot outside the castle gates her entire life before two weeks ago, and now she was planning to survive out in the wilderness all by herself. It was a recipe for disaster.
But if the choice was between dying of hypothermia in freedom, or in the hands of the Revolutionary Army and her handsome tormentor, Y/N would choose freezing cold freedom everyday of the week.
Suddenly, her dark thoughts were interrupted by a knock on her door.
“Jane Doe, you in there?” An obnoxious, honey-sweet voice could be heard on the other side.
Hate that stupid nickname.
He seriously needed to stop doing this. For the last couple of mornings, at the same time everyday, Sabo had knocked on her door, asking if she was there.
And Y/N never answered, pretending that she wasn’t in the room. He usually stayed outside for a few minutes before he left, which was probably going to be the case today too.
She heard Sabo let out a deep sigh.
“I don’t know if you’re there, but I’m coming in.” He stated, like he wasn’t about to invade the last personal space she had at this godforsaken base.
Goddamnit… She had locked the door, right?  
No, this wasn’t the time to take any chances, she needed to hide. Who knew what god awful thing he would do to her if he found her.
Y/N quickly scanned the room for a hiding spot. Under the bed was too obvious, even she knew that. As her eyes landed on the small built-in closet, she heard the doorknob starting to turn. She didn’t have the time to be picky, she needed to hide, now!
Just as she had slid the closet shut, the bedroom door flew open. The small wooden planks of the closet door barely gave her any vision of the room, but the gap was wide enough to see Sabo mindlessly walk in. Not a care in the world, like he belonged in there.
‘He wishes.’ Y/N thought as she rolled her eyes.
Then she noticed that he was looking at the closet, straight at her, with a serious look that spelled nothing but trouble. She could swear that her heart was trying to crack her ribcage open by how hard it was beating.
She put her hands over her mouth, careful to not make a sound, as Sabo’s eyes lingered on her hiding spot for a few more seconds. Then an amused grin spread over his face, before he turned around and started to look around her room.
Dear God, that had been a close call.
“Are you hiding from me, Angel?” Sabo chuckled, bending down to look under the bed.
Since his blatant fake confession he had called her that from time to time. Some new way to play tricks on her mind for sure. And Y/N always berated herself when she heard it, because it made her stupid heart flutter every time.
Seriously, what was wrong with her?
Besides studying up on how to survive on her own, she had read a few books on psychology during her visits to the library. In those she had learned about this thing called *Stockholm Syndrome*, basically when a captive believes they are in love with their capturer. 
And Y/N had let out a sigh of relief when she read that. It explained every warm feeling she had for the man that she was 95% sure wanted to chop her head off in front of a crowd. The other 5%, well… that was the dumb sliver of hope that still lingered in the back of her mind. 
A sliver of hope that she consciously ignored. She wasn’t in her right mind, she had been manipulated by that handsome devil, and the strange thoughts she had about him couldn’t be trusted.
She had to stick to what she knew, and that was that Revolutionaries hated Nobles with a burning passion. At least, that had to be the case when the revolutionary in question was their Second in Command.
The closet walls were starting to feel cramped as she continued to watch Sabo mindlessly prance around her bedroom. He picked up her pillow, brought it to his face and let out a low groan as he took a deep inhale through his nose, making Y/N really question the man’s sanity. Was he trying to memorize her scent in case he had to hunt her down? 
What was he? A goddamn bloodhound or something?
She let out a quiet scoff when he put the pillow back, seeing a satisfied look on his face. She shouldn't have done that.
His eyes zeroed in on her again, a wicked smile spreading over his lips, making Y/N forget how to breathe. 
A shiver went down her spine as she watched Sabo move closer, stopping right outside the closet. He was so close she could feel him towering over her through the door. 
“Are you in here, Angel? Please answer if you are.” 
Dear God, please don’t open it.
Someone was apparently listening to her prayer, since he abruptly turned around, when Y/N was just seconds from passing out due to the lack of air in her lungs.
“Bummer, guess she’s not here then.” Sabo said in a monotone voice, putting his hand to his cheek in a dramatic manner.
He started to walk towards the door. She couldn’t believe it, she was actually going to get through this without being found.
Then, Sabo stopped in the middle of his step, right as he walked by her dresser. He carefully opened the top draw, which wasn’t good. That wasn’t good at all.
“Hmm… I might as well since I’m already here.” He snickered as he took something out and stuffed it in his pocket, quickly leaving the room right after.
As soon as the bedroom door closed, Y/N fell out of the closet and landed on the floor. Too shocked from what she just had witnessed.
“Did- did he just steal my underwear?” She whispered to herself, as she felt a warm flush spread over her face.
Was Sabo a pervert?
Because that would explain sooo much. She laid on the floor, pondering on her theory for a few moments, before she rolled over on her back and let out a weird, nervous laugh.
“Yes, definitely a pervert… Just gonna add that to the list of reasons why he needs to be avoided at all cost.” Y/N concluded, questioning how she had gotten herself in this situation to begin with.
___
So fucking angelic.
There was no other way of describing her. Even though she had actively been avoiding him for the past few days and making him watch her from afar. 
But Sabo could forgive that. She was obviously planning something, and the most optimistic part of himself had convinced him that it was going to be a surprise.
He didn’t know what kind of surprise yet, but he looked forward to it. A little too much in fact.
He had watched his Angel gather all sorts of things, swiping snacks from the pantry when she thought no one was looking. Snatching blankets and other fabrics from the laundry, candles and matches from the storage. 
All things that were needed for a romantic date. 
Sabo still wasn’t sure why she needed all the tools she stole from the supply closet, nor did he understand what she was going to use a tarp for.
But he almost lost his shit yesterday when he saw her sneak a rope into her bag. If his, quite frankly, dirty mind was right and she wanted him to tie her up with it, he might have to marry her on the spot. 
The knife however, that was still a bit concerning… But hey, he was willing to try out whatever she had in mind at least once.
No matter what she was doing, these past few days had convinced him.
She had continued to play their little game, even though the rules had changed a bit. AND, she was planning a romantic surprise for him. That girl understood him so well.
She liked him, maybe just as much as he liked her, if that even was possible.
Sabo knew his obsession was starting to get a little out of hand. Or in all honesty, “a little” would be an understatement. 
He knew that what he was doing wasn’t exactly normal. Watching her go about her day, keeping tabs on where she was, at what time in the morning she was leaving her bedroom and when she usually returned. Putting it in a more brutal way, he was stalking her.
God- that girl brought out dark things in him he wasn’t even aware were there before. Last night he spent at least two hours convincing himself that, sneaking into her room through her window while she was sleeping, wasn’t a good idea. 
It wasn’t, he knew that. No matter how much that girl had messed with his moral compass, he knew that it would be crossing a line.
But he just wanted to hear the sweet voice he had been deprived of hearing for the last few days, even if it was her yelling at him to get out.
That’s why he went to see her this morning, to talk to her. Not about anything special, he just wanted to see her pretty mouth move, until his mind was filled with nothing but the sweet sound of her voice.
Sabo knew she had been in there, observation haki really becoming handy in these kinds of situations. But she hid in her closet when he stepped into her room.
And if she wanted to play Hide and Seek, who was he to deprive her of that fun? 
Plus, he had gotten a little prize for playing along.
Still, things had started to become a little boring for him.
At first, it had been exciting seeing her turn a corner every time he was near. Watching her look over her shoulder to see if he was there. It was twisted- but fuck- just knowing she was constantly thinking about him brought him so much joy.
Even if she was doing it in an attempt to avoid him, Sabo couldn’t be mad about it. She was obviously still trying to muster up the courage to face him after his blatant confession.
It was cute.
He had imagined her confessing her feelings for him so many times at this point. Nervous stutters leaving her mouth, a flustered blush spreading over her face.
God- Just the thought made him want to do unspeakable things to that poor girl. 
And in any normal case, Sabo was nothing but patient. With her however, not so much. 
Like previously stated, watching her had been fun for a while. But he was done with just watching now, he wanted to be with her. Being close to her, talking to her, teasing her. Seeing her smile, laugh or just resting peacefully on his chest.
So, at this moment he was in the library, hiding behind a bookshelf and going over his options on how to best approach her.
Jane Doe was sitting at a table a bit further away, reading a book in peace. Looking absolutely angelic.
Besides the two of them, the rest of the room was empty. And dammit, if there hadn’t been so many unresolved issues that needed to be sorted out first, he would probably pin her to that table right this moment.
Hitching that cute, little skirt up over her hips as he left kisses up and down her gorgeous legs. Teasing her to the brink of insanity until she begged him to touch her. Eating her out like a man starved for food-
Yeah, that was definitely not happening yet.
The second best option was to go over there, trying to make her flustered enough to at least blush. Which shouldn’t be too hard to achieve.
So Sabo did just that, walking over with a statement that was suggestive enough in mind. He stopped right behind her chair, bending down close to her ear, feeling a bit amused when he saw her flinch.
“You know, I had this dream last night- and fuck- your hands felt so soft against my skin. Like an Angel touching my very soul.” He said in a low voice, blowing a puff of hot air against her neck.
It was true, he really dreamt that last night. He had been kinda pissed off when he woke, not wanting the wonderful dream to end.
And he knew how much his little nickname affected her, she was so bad at hiding her true feelings.
“Dear God, why?” The girl asked under her breath, making Sabo chuckle as he walked over to the other side of the table, sitting down across from her.
“Why? Cause you’re cute, and funny, and ignoring me. So you’re obviously my type.” He stated, watching her mindlessly turn to the next page in her book.
“I’m sorry, what were you saying?” She answered, looking up at him for the first time.
“Perfect.” Sabo sighed, getting completely lost in her eyes.
He barely had the chance to catch the pretty blush that spread over her face, before she turned her head down.
But it was there, he saw it, and it made his chest fill with pride. No matter how hard she tried to ignore him, he could still make her flustered anytime he wanted to.
“Are you bothered by me being here?” He asked, giving her a teasing smile.
“Yes. I want to be alone.” She said curtly in response, not paying him more attention than necessary.
It was selfish, and probably a bit dumb. But Sabo wanted her attention to be on him, and not on some stupid book. What was so interesting about it anyways, for her to not look at him? He was way more interesting-
God, he really needed to seek professional help, didn't he? He was jealous over a fucking book.
“What are you reading anyway?” He scoffed, failing to keep his displeasure in.
“None of your business.” She snapped back, voice deprived of any warmth.
Shit, was she annoyed? That couldn’t be good…
“Why are you so snappy today?” Sabo asked, needing to know if all of it was just in his head.
“I’m not.” She bit out, jaw visibly clenching. 
If it was one thing Sabo took pride in, it was that he was good at reading people. But not this girl apparently, making her an exception in yet another way. 
He must have fucked up big during the last couple of days for her to be this mad with him. Was it the stalking? Had he taken it too far? 
“Yes you are. Did I do something to make you upset? I’ll try to fix it if you tell me.” He said, trying to reach for her hand, but she quickly moved it away.
“I said I’m not. Just drop it.” 
Was this their first fight? 
Sabo might not have been in any real long term relationship before, but he wanted this to work. He needed this to work, because he wasn’t sure if he could recover from being rejected by her. 
He knew that communication was important in any healthy relationship, so her avoiding the topic wasn’t going to cut it.
“I will drop it, if you tell me what’s wrong. I don’t want you to be angry at me and-”
“Can you just back the fuck off and leave me alone?” She said with an irritated tone, looking up at him with fire in her eyes.
Oh fuck, she’s mad mad.
She swore… she actually swore. That was a word Sabo thought he never would hear leave his Angel's beautiful mouth.
Was this about the underwear? He knew she had been hiding in the closet when he “borrowed” them, but he didn’t think she would be this angry about it.
“Is this about what I took from your room? Because I was going to give-”
“IT’S NOT ABOUT THE FUCKING UNDERWEAR!”
“Okay, so I must have done something else then… I'm sorry?” He said, feeling his heart sink to his stomach.
She didn’t say anything more. She just let out a frustrated groan as she slammed the book shut, leaving it on the table and walked away. Leaving him alone with nothing but his own thoughts.
Goddamnit!
He messed up, this was not how he wanted things to go. Had he been wrong the entire time? Had she actually been mad at him, and was that the reason she avoided him to begin with? Had they not just been playing their usual silly game?
Fuck, maybe had he come on too strong three days ago. He did choke her, so it wouldn’t be surprising if that was the reason. But she said she liked it, right?
Sabo was about to go crazy, trying to figure out what he did wrong, when his eyes landed on the green cover of the book she had been reading.
He picked it up, curiosity getting the better of him.
“ *Outdoor Survival for Beginners*- what the actual?” He flipped through the pages, as something clicked in his brain. “Shit-”
Jane Doe was planning on running away…
It all made sense now. Why she avoided him, why she had gathered all those different things. Why she had been so defensive just moments ago.
(Why she hadn’t told him she liked him too.)
She was leaving, and she didn’t want anything left behind. It made sense, he would do the same thing if he knew he was leaving. It was plain cruel to confess your feelings to someone, just to be gone a few days later.
That’s why he had confessed to her. He wasn’t exactly planning on leaving her anytime soon, and he wanted her to know that.
Still, the only thing that didn’t make sense was her reason. Why would she want to run away?
She liked it here, Sabo saw how happy she looked whenever she helped around the base. How well she got along with Koala. How peaceful she had looked that morning when she slept on his chest.
In fact, why was she even hiding her identity to begin with? He hadn’t thought about it more than in passing, his mind usually being too preoccupied with holding his urges back around her.
Something wasn’t right…
“I might have to speed some things up.” Determination took over him.
Her plan was batshit crazy to begin with. She couldn’t even cook, how the fuck was she going to survive alone in the woods? She would die, hungry, freezing and alone, within a couple of days.
Sabo couldn’t stand the thought of losing someone he cared for again. Not after Ace-
No. This wasn’t the time to dwell on that. 
He had a few very urgent house calls to make.
___
Tag list: @nymeriiiia
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malfiora · 10 hours
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I'm rewriting Jason's resurrection and reconciliation with the fam for my own sanity:
Jason dies tragically and horrifically at age 15
A year later, Superboy Prime punches through universes, collapsing two realities onto each other: one where Jason dies, the other in which he survives. Jason comes back to life but is semi-conscious. Talia finds him and takes him to the League
Jason regains full consciousness after a dip in the Lazarus. For two years, Jason trains and slowly regains his memories. Once he's 18, he decides to return to Gotham, despite Talia's wishes
Quickly becomes clear that Gotham hasn't changed much, which disappoints Jason. He decides to put his League training to use and control crime as a harm reduction tactic, and he goes back and forth on contacting Bruce, especially after he hears rumors of a new Robin
Joker pops up with a new scheme, and this is the last straw. Jason concocts a plan to kidnap and finally kill Joker and confront Batman about all the ways he's failed him and Gotham. When Batman refuses to kill Joker, Jason feints like he's going to kill Tim to "save him the trouble" since Batman clearly cares so little for his sidekicks. ("Hey, kid, at least I'll make it painless.") This gets a reaction from Batman, who incapacitates Jason and rescues Robin. Jason retreats to lick his wounds and reconsider everything
Jason takes time to ruminate on all of this. He's still hurt that his death meant nothing in the grand scheme of things but thinks about Batman's reaction to Tim being in danger and has to wonder if that's how he acted when Jason was in that warehouse
Out of morbid curiosity and a little bit of fanboyishness, Tim monitors Jason. Jason knows this and eventually confronts him. He feels bad for scaring Tim but has to maintain his edge so he tries not to be too scary. At some point, Tim speaks his mind and tells Jason that he has no idea what things were like while he was dead. "Batman was a mess, he almost killed people. That's why I became Robin. I had to put him back together, so you don't get to act like you know everything that happened the past 3 years because you been back a couple months." Jason takes this in. They part ways. (Jason: "Don't die." Tim: "Don't change.")
The Chemo incident happens. Jason rushes to Blüdhaven to make sure Dick is alive and okay, thus revealing he's alive to the Titans. After the dust settles, he and Dick talk privately so that Dick can react properly. (Dick: "No, Batman didn't tell me." Jason: "Yeah, he has a habit of doing that.")
Jason gets to ask if Tim's claim of Batman being a mess is founded. It is. He asks Dick if it's worth doing things the same way. "It is." That doesn't help.
Eventually Jason and Bruce have their equivalent of a heart to heart. Basically they both go, "I love you even if I think you're wrong."
Jason forms the Outlaws, but the moment he gets the distress call from the fam, he comes rushing back to help. He's offended that Bruce is surprised (Tim is hopeful, Dick isn't remotely shocked)
When Dick "dies," Jay comes back to take his place as Eldest Son. He sticks around through the end of the Robin War
Other important events that definitely happen but just don't fit neatly into a timeline:
Barbara and Jason team up on a mission shortly after Bruce tells Barbara that Jason is back. She's happy and immediately falls into big sister/mother hen mode and chides him for not seeing her sooner and makes him promise to stop by the clocktower regardless of whatever is happening between him and Bruce. She promises to help him upgrade his tech if he does. (Barbara has always been more lenient with killers and believes wholly in second chances.)
Cass stops Jason from killing someone who "deserves it," resulting in them fighting. Cass is better trained but she refuses to kill Jason, who won't stop. Eventually, they call a ceasefire and talk a bit. "All life has meaning," Cass says. Jason scoffs. "Even the Joker's?" "All life," she insists. Jason quietly disagrees but he respects Cass's determination. This starts a back and forth of him testing her anytime they're grouped together. ("Even this lowlife, Cass?" or "She's worth your own life?" or "They wouldn't spare you, why bother?") Each and every time she sticks to her principles.
Jay and Steph grab food together after a patrol one night and bond over being the family outcasts (i.e. the ones Bruce doesn't implicitly trust). Jason vows to make Steph his Robin if he ever becomes Batman. She laughs but is secretly touched
***I can never decide what to do with Damian. On the one hand, it's hilarious if Jason knows about him and keeps quiet about it. On the other, I don't see why Jason wouldn't tell Bruce about Damian's existence. Maybe once he's on speaking terms with Bruce again, he does tell him about Damian, which then prompts Jason to encourage Talia to let Damian meet Bruce. This is accelerated by Talia discovering Ra's' plan for Damian and wanting to get Damian away from the League
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teddywesworl · 1 day
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oooh ooh 🧩, ☁️, & 🥐 for the ask game!!!
🧩 ⇢ what will make you click away from a fanfiction immediately?
cuips also trying to get me in trouble bc the honest answer to this is: a lot. bad formatting, purple prose without reason, overly quirky voice/tone, inconsistent characterization, characters behaving like OCs wearing canon skins, cyclical angst (wherein the same conflict is repeated over and over and over again for many thousands of words, seemingly for the sake of holding the audience hostage, instead of any progression happening), when the setting and/or action involves some shit i know a fuckton about irl and gets it confidently super wrong,
☁️ ⇢ what made you choose your username?
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him. that's teddy wesworl. theodore "teddy" flood from hbo's westworld. the whole show means a lot to me and tbh i maybe shoulda picked dolores or maeve as a namesake but, without spoiling too much for those who might watch the show, teddy's whole purpose is to be utterly incorruptible in the face of more pain than a person could ever be expected to withstand. he's so good that his goodness survives the rewriting. there's a whole thing in season 1 where god, the devil, and man walk into a bar and he's man and i can't even EXPLAIN how COOL that is because you should WATCH WESTWORLD
🥐 ⇢ name one internet reference that will always make you laugh
i've suddenly never been on the internet before in my life. ummmmmmmm i like when fine art is reaction meme. oh also there's a rare vine i only come across VERY occasionally on tumblr and NEVER in the big compilations that's just a dude going "oh no it's the cops!" in a cartoonish way and then leaping like a breaching whale into a hedge, which swallows him whole. i say that shit regularly
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natsunenuko · 1 day
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TW // mental issues, mental absue, harassment, surgery/blood
I'm sorry this one is so long, but please carry on reading. It's a chance for me to not only speak about the situation but let out some steam too. It is unfortunate this announcement comes at the same time the flood occurs on the south of my home country (Poland) and I'm in the endangered zone, luckily so far safe, as I feel my head can't handle more stress.
It's been so long since I've been this personal online. I realized how I didn't feel the urge to vent for 3-4 years by now which is a sign of improving mental health. But my healing is still a process, and I'm afraid it's too hard to carry this rock alone at this point. I fought my thoughts if I should do this and I think just as deeply as I write right now. Yet, I know it's better late than never and I thank deeply my friends for helping me out recently as well as in the past in my lowest. I wholeheartedly owe my life to you.
I couldn't ask for better friends. As years verified, even long lasting relationships might be nothing but a mask and I had to learn the hard way. I ended a friendship of 13 years at the time over a misunderstanding. Other person I put my trust on was nothing but a groomer with morally corrupted sexual tendencies who would take advange of a group of minors while being the only adult among them, yet acting like a person much younger than all of them and pressuring all their mental issues on children instead of seeking help. The latter, I might speak of more in detail when I'm ready.
Long time ago I tried calling out for help but back then, the intrusive thoughts won; "Others have it worse, just work harder.", "No one will give you anything for free, no one will care.", "What people will think of you?". and I would only speak about these things in a closed circle of my friends.
I tried my best in silence by not giving up on my creative passion, working restlessly for years, improving. Hoping I could reach the point I can sustain myself purely on what I make.
But the problem is not being self-sufficient. And it's not about my art...
All of my life it has been me, my momma and my granny. The other two important figures weren't there for us, by choice. (which is hard to say if losing someone you loved is worse than not being cared for in the first place) My rather young self at the time didn't put much thought about it as I didn't understand it but something always felt wrong; my only issues at the time was being "that weird, quiet kid with little to no friends". But despite the hardships, my momma has always been my hero, working without a time for a break or rest so we could live happily, to afford something special from time to time.
However in 2014 my momma has been hospitalised and almost lost her life to wrongly treated ovarian cyst (cyst rapture), with enough blood loss to require emergency surgery...
From that point on things went downhill and the result of that we feel to this very day. To stay afloat we fell into a severe dept. (We didn't have any savings, could only rely on borrowing money or loans) And since I was a child as all of this happened, I've only learned about it all throughfully as I entered adulthood, so I wouldn't need to worry about anything and "just be a kid". Which I really understand, but it doesn't make it easier to handle.
And by now, for several years I keep on trying to earn money, so I could free my momma from this chain and let her live, not survive. I always wanted to get through this quietly, because I never, ever wanted to burden anyone with my home problems. But it grew to a point I might need to grab anything to climb towards the light
The goal is $10 000... which is scarily large number.
I list all the options but Kofi is preferred to keep track of the funds!
My commissions are HERE! (the sheet will receive a slight update in upcoming days) My Kofi is HERE! (Level 4 Tea is free headshot drawing every month!) HERE's other services I do (adopts, brushes, etc) I plan to do paid requests for my friday streams on occasion! Anything else I come up with I hope to include in here! Every person who donates will be part of "Thank you" list where I hope to shoutout everybody, cause every penny matters. I want this situation to end...
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This week’s writer spotlight feature is:  dartlekey! @dartlekey has 11 fics in the Stranger Things Fandom and 9 of them are in the Steddie tag!.
Our anonymous nominator recommends the following works by @dartlekey:
If you were church (I'd get on my knees)
RUSH! (T4T REMIX)
At a medium pace
With great power
"I read the "with great power" series not long after I got into the Steddie fandom and was instantly like "I need to raid this author's other fics" and subscribed to them. No regrets for that choice!!" -- Anonymous
Below the cut, @dartlekey answered some questions about their writing process and some of their recommended work!
Why do you write Steddie?
For me, Steddie hits that sweet spot of strong characterization but woefully underexplored details, both for the individual characters but also their dynamic with each other in canon. That makes their relationship the ideal writer's sandbox - since they're both so fluid, you can explore the characters through each other, showcasing many different and even conflicting facets of each other while still retaining their original characters and behaviors. Either of them can be rich or poor, famous or an everyguy, Gay or Bisexual, Dom or Sub, Top or Bottom, Trans in any direction - the details are up to you! 
What’s your favorite trope to READ?
I love a good slowburn friends-to-lovers fic. It needs to be a specific kind for me though - I'm not much one for prolonged pining, but I love it when the friendship is explored in such depth that the next step feels like an inevitability. Watching that deep platonic affection turn not-so-platonic, that's the good shit. 
What’s your favorite trope to WRITE?
My specialty as a writer, I think, is crack treated seriously, or crack with a twist. Usually the first question that sparks one of my fics is “If X happened, would that be hilarious or what?” and then the second is “But if it was because of Y, would that be fucked up or what?” I think you can see it best in If you were church I'd get on my knees (what if Steve was a stripper at Eddie's stag party BUT it was actually a social commentary on queerness and sexuality in the face of religious oppression), but it's in At a medium pace too (what if Eddie couldn't move his arms because of injury so Steve “has” to jerk him off, but it's actually about how growing up queer can warp your perspective on healthy sexuality) , or even in Don't look back (What if Eddie had to dom Steve for plot reasons, but it's all body horror and trauma and spiraling codependency). 
What’s your favorite Steddie fic?
I don’t think I could name one all-time favorite, because what I enjoy most about fanfic is that different writers bring different character interpretations, storytelling styles and plot ideas to the table, which I find incomparable. I have enjoyed many of the well-known classics, of course (pukner I owe you my life--), but let me use this chance to give a shout-out to some less well-known masterpieces! My top three underrated fics are Three Days on the Red Planet by CaptainHoney/@grandmastattoo on tumblr (retro scifi, gritty but humorous hopepunk, every single fic of theirs is a certified banger but I love this one the most for some reason!!), Love dirty men alike by wrenowich (chef au, an ode to kitchen culture in all its griminess, I love a detailed backstory plus Steddie being wonderfully weird about each other), and That’s just wasteland, baby! by fastcardotmp3 (post-s4 apocalypse survival, sweet and aching and tired and yet hopeful, made me cry in the best way). 
Is there a trope you’re excited to explore in a future work but haven’t yet?
One that's pretty unique to the steddie fandom, or perhaps general stranger things fandom, is “if canon event x had happened differently/hadn't happened at all/had happened to a different person, how would the rest of canon change?” I still need to work out a lot of details in my head, so that's all I'll say for now, but it's something I'm very interested in exploring.
What is your writing process like?
Much to the horror of fic writers everywhere, I don't do first drafts, I just write out everything in detail, scene by scene in chronological order. I edit as I go, and consider the many-numbered, often unplanned writing breaks an important part of my process - when I let the written portion sit for a while and the unwritten ideas percolate in my brain for a bit, I often end up with new plot points or solutions for problems I've been having! And when that inspiration strikes, I can write anywhere - on the train, during lunch break at work, in the vegetable aisle of the grocery store… I have gdocs on my phone and I use it liberally; I'd say I write at least 80% of any given fic on my phone. 
Do you have any writing quirks?
Apart from the hot mess I just described, I'd say it's that I never use Beta readers. I'll occasionally ask friends to help with specific details if I need an expert on certain subject matter, but I've found I get very grumpy and fussy if someone pokes at my plot (even if or rather especially if they’re right lol), and I don't want to subject anyone to that. 
Do you prefer posting when you’ve finished writing or on a schedule?
For oneshots or series comprised of single-chapter fics I like posting as soon as I'm done, but for multi-chapter works I've recently found that starting to post only after I've finished most (if not all) chapters beforehand improves the quality of the story! Since I tend to integrate new ideas or shift around plot points a lot while writing, I often end up in completely different places than my original concept, so if an early chapter isn't posted yet I can retroactively edit it to add foreshadowing or tone-match the end of the work, remove loose threads and suchlike. Don't look back is a good example of how this has worked out for me; comparatively It don't bite (Yes it do) - which I wrote and posted chapter by chapter - is tonally all over the place. 
Which fic are you most proud of?
Naturally I love all my babies, but I consider Don't look back my magnum opus - both because it is the longest fic I've ever written (13 chapters and 90.000 words in total, that's practically a novel!) and because it's the most plot-rich, labor-intensive, and overall serious in tone. I even worked in subplots about the rest of the cast, so it almost reads like its own season. I wrote it for last year's Steddie Bigbang, which means there's also a gorgeous accompanying artwork by @the-chilly-kat. 
How did you get the idea for With great power?
At the time I'd seen a few marvel AUs floating past me on the tumblr timeline, usually with Steve as Spiderman and Eddie as the human component of Venom, and having just recently seen the Venom movie depicting the rich relationship between Eddie Brock and the symbiote, it surprised me that most left the symbiote as its own character, and not substituted one of the ST main cast. The symbiotic relationship of Stobin immediately came to mind, though I also still loved the idea of Steve as Spidey - then I remembered that in the Toby McGuire movies, the two are not mutually exclusive, and it all spiraled from there. Eddie as Deadpool just made sense - immortal wild-card with a dubious moral code but a heart of gold? Obviously! Plus Spideypool is, of course, a classic ship. 
When writing With great power, what was something you didn’t expect?
I actually got several curious comments about the sex toy Steve uses in Because the night - a grindable or grinder, which is a flat-ish silicone structure, usually ribbed in an interesting way, that one can grind against to get off (as the name suggests). I thought it was pretty common, but apparently it's not very well known!
What inspired  RUSH! (T4T REMIX)?
Oh, it's my time to gush! Because the idea for the first work actually came about from a late night conversation I had with the beautiful, amazing, wonderful @maikaartwork, back when we were, how should I say, in the courting stage? Seeing as we met through the Steddie fandom, I decided to write Baby Said basically to seduce them - and I am happy to say it worked, as we've been dating for over eight months now and are planning to move in together next year! Both works from RUSH! - T4T REMIX (and the secret new WIP, shh) are thus somewhat inspired by our conversations and our t4t relationship, but also by the many interesting and different trans people I've met over the years, and trans solidarity and relationships in general.
What was your favorite part to write from At a medium pace?
The small-talk in between position changes - no, really! I love a mindless marathon-fuck story as much as the next person, but there's something very sweet and intimate about those little breaks in sex, the pass the lube, move your leg a bit, what's for dinner later of it all. That's where you see that emotional connection - there's no admission of crushes or big love confessions in this fic because it's right there in the details.
How do/did you feel writing RUSH! (T4T REMIX)?
Honestly, it's just really really fun and self-indulgent. The Steddie dynamic in it is so bitchy, all the bickering makes me laugh even as I'm writing it. It's also just really fun to write about the trans experience in a way that is curious and loving, and reflects all the very different and yet similar ways people experience living in a body that defies expectation. I've loved all my fellow trans people sounding off in the comments about their own transition experiences, it's wonderful to have such a fantastic community!
What was the most difficult part of writing If you were church (I'd get on my knees)?
Curiously enough, not the many religious trauma bits! Much like Eddie in the fic, I'm only church-freak adjacent - I grew up in a non-religious household but with extended family that were extremely catholic, so the odd juxtaposition of being occasionally close to but definitely not involved in what is pretty much cult behavior inspired much of this fic. The most functionally difficult part to write was actually the wedding - as an aro-spec & trans relationship anarchist, church weddings have never been relevant to me, so I had very little idea what actually goes into one! Very little of the research I conducted on the topic actually made it into the fic, but hey, the more you know. 
Do you have a favorite scene and/or line from any of your fics?
People keep asking me that, and I never know what to answer! If I had to pick one, though, maybe the last few paragraphs of Don't look back - where you can see the tragedy coming, but there's no way of stopping it, because it was always going to end this way. And then Eddie's last words before the end of the fic call back to the title as well as the general theme of the fic - it just all comes together for such a crescendo of an ending. 
Do you have any upcoming projects or fics you’d like to share/promote?
Yes, actually! Coming soon in the SteddieBang'24, me and my lovely artist @hawkinsleather have been working hard on a 20k post-s4 fic called A glimpse of your canvas, which is about closeted transfemme!Eddie, women's solidarity, and Steve's very confusing no-good trip to the gay bar. Both With great power and RUSH! (T4T REMIX) have another WIP pending which I'll eventually finish (I promise, I'm just easily distracted!!), and for those who are still mad about Don't look back’s open ending, I'm almost done with the sequel, which features a lot of bad decisions by all characters involved, the healing power of community, and a bit of accidental child acquisition. 
Outside of these questions, Is there anything YOU would like to add?
Given the chance of this platform, I would like to notify my readers that I'm a terrible procrastinator when it comes to replying to comments, but I read and cherish every one of them - and repeat commenters, I see you, I love you, I am chewing on your arm like a dog with a bone!! I would also like to thank the steddie fandom in general for giving me the hottest partner known to man or God, and for the many friendships I've been so fortunate to build here. Talk about transformative works, am I right? <3 
Thank you to our author, @dartlekey, and our anonymous nominator! See more of dartlekey's works featured on our page throughout the day!
Writer’s Spotlight is every Wednesday! Want to nominate an author? You can nominate them here!
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avengerscompound · 15 hours
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Shared Experience - Chapter 10
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Shared Experience - A Captain America Fanfic
Masterlist PREVIOUS //
Rating:  E
Warnings:  Injuries, blood, blood-drinking, sex talk and touching.
Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC Rose Astor
Word Count: 1972
Summary:  Rose Astor met her end in 1920, joining the ranks of the living dead two years after the birth of Steve Rogers.  A century later the two meet in battle - a beacon of light clashing with a creature of the night.  Despite their differences, the two bond over their shared life experiences.  Can a vampire become an Avenger?  Can two such different beings create a life together?
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Chapter 10
Blood spilled into Rose’s mouth and down her chin, warm, salty, and nourishing.  Rose tried to turn her head, to pull away, to stop from swallowing the very thing that could keep her alive.  She had never wanted something as much as this before, yet simultaneously she wanted it to stop, to push away and fight this from happening.  Steve was trying to feed her after spending months telling her no and she wanted it so badly, but if she started, she wasn’t sure that she could stop.
There was no stopping it.  Her injuries were too severe and even if she was strong enough physically to push him away, when she was this close to death she lost all humanity.  The instinct to survive pushed away all mortal thoughts and her body acted outside her control.  It would have been hard not just to bite him if he wasn’t bleeding freely into her mouth.  The fact he was, made it impossible.
She latched on, her hands going to his forearm and holding it in place as she drank.  Each swallow of the thick hot liquid reenergized her.  Her wounds knitted and her flesh filled back out.  Color returned to her skin.  The heat from the blood radiated through her until she felt like a furnace in the middle of the snowy forest.
Never had she felt the effect of blood so fully and to such an extreme as drinking from Steve now.  It was like drinking straight from the sun.  His blood surged through her, making her feel stronger and more alive than she could ever remember feeling.  Within minutes, she felt strong enough to run again, yet she couldn’t pull herself away.
Steve moaned.  It was a low and deep sound that reverberated out from his chest.  She looked up at him.  His head had lolled back on his shoulders and the look of pure bliss etched into his features made her tingle right through to her core.  She knew what it was like for the people she fed from.  The near-orgasmic feeling that vampires created for their victims was a defense mechanism.  It stopped them from struggling and meant the Vampire had more control over the outcome.
God, how she wished this wasn’t happening like this.  In the middle of the Russian Wilderness, buried in snow, and surrounded by HYDRA was not where she wanted to be sharing this with Steve.  She wanted to do this at home, in her bed, his cock buried as deep into her cunt as he could go.  She reached down and put her hand on his cock.  He was rock hard, even through the thick fabric of his combat wear she could feel the press of his cock.  He moaned again and pulled her closer to him.  “Rose…”
It was her name that snapped her out of it.  The way he breathed it, the love that it carried even in the throes of pleasure.  She released him and pulled back, scrambling away from him.  She needed a moment to compose herself and while the wound on his wrist was still open, she wouldn’t be able to.  It would heal quickly now she wasn’t feeding - another side effect of her feeding.  The wounds healed with no scar, so no one could guess what had happened.
Steve looked up at her dazed.  “Rose?” he asked.
“Just give me a second,” she panted.  Not that she was breathing heavily.  She wasn’t breathing at all.  It was just a way to regulate the blood flow and shake off the feeding frenzy that had taken over her.  “Are you okay?  Did I drink too much?”
Steve shook his head and looked down at his wrist.  The wound was mostly healed and he rubbed his hand over it.  “I’m okay… what was that?”
“That’s why it’s taken me so long to separate feeding from sex,” she said.  “Are you sure you’re okay?  We should probably get out of here.”
He stood and while he still looked a little dazed, he was steady on his feet.  She stood, shaking off the layer of snow that was clinging to her.  “We should find the others,” she said.  “I’ll need to go to ground soon.  Dawn is coming.”
Steve pointed the way he came.  “It’s that way, but we’ll have to move fast if you’re going to make it.”
“I guess we’ll go as far as I can.  If I need to bury myself, that’s okay.  You can mark it and find me tomorrow night,” she said.
He nodded.  “Let’s go,” he said.
The two began to run, tearing along the frozen landscape toward the rest of the Avengers.  The cold air stung Rose’s cheeks, yet she couldn’t remember ever feeling warmer or more alive.  Something about Steve’s blood had invigorated her.  It had given her some sense of life again.  More than that, it made her feel slightly high.
She kept her pace steady despite wanting to take off and test her limits.  She thought with this new boost she could run over water.  She felt invincible.
At the speed they moved, she was sure she’d find the jet and the others before the sun rose.  Unfortunately, she’d misjudged exactly how long she’d been awake for.  Lethargy began to kick in and she felt the animalistic urge to start to dig.  She kept pushing, determined to find something, and just as the first rays of light rose to the East, she spotted a small ice fishing cabin.  There were no signs of life around at all and while there was the risk of someone coming during the day, with all the HYDRA activity in the area, it was safe to assume no one would be coming to use it.
Surprising as it was to find any shelter in the Russian wilderness, the fact she could see sunlight and yet was both still awake and not burning was more surprising.
She pointed at the cabin to Steve. “I’m going there.  I need to get out of the open.”
He simply nodded and she ran as fast as she could, a mere blur in the snow, pushing the limits of her abilities.  Her skin was starting to blister and her energy waned as she reached the building that was no more than a box with a slanted roof.  With a massive heave, she shoved the pile of snow away from the door, yanked it open, and hurried inside.  Once out of the sun, her skin immediately healed, giving her an almost tanned look.  The cabin had bunks built into the far wall, each with a lumpy hole-ridden mattress and dusty blankets piled on them.  Closer to the door was a wood stove, and some shelves with tinned food and a bottle of what looked like moonshine.  Rose didn’t take long to take it in.  She rushed to the bed, pulled down the upper mattress to create a walled box under the lowest bunk, grabbed the blanket, and crawled under it.  As soon as the blanket was covering her entire body, her eyes closed.  She had lost consciousness before Steve had even reached the cabin.
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Rose woke all at once.  She had expected to be colder than she was, but aside from the fact that whatever was in Steve’s blood had made her own body heat to above the ambient temperature, warmth radiated out from the other side of the room.  She shimmed out under the mattress that was protecting her from the light.  Steve was sitting on a rickety fold-out chair by the stove, looking over something on his tablet.  With the large coat he had on, he looked far too big for the chair and she wondered how it was even still in one piece.
He looked up at the sound and a smile lit up his features. “Wow,” he said.  “You look - different.”
She looked down at herself to try and see what he was talking about.  All she could see was the tattered ruins of her uniform.  She didn’t need coats like the others, but the outfit covered her neck to toe, including her hands.  There was a tear in the fabric on her chest, but the wound under it was completely healed.  “What is it?”
“You have a tan,” he said.  “I was worried when the sun came up.  You normally go into autopilot as soon as it gets close to dawn so you get somewhere dark and protected.  What happened?”
She shook her head. “Your guess is as good as mine.  I felt that urge, but I was able to overrule it, and when the sun started coming up, it burned but -” she shrugged.  “I guess it was your blood.  The super-serum.  I feel - alive.  Or as close to it as I have been since I was turned.”
Steve seemed to assess her.  The weight of his gaze was heavy and she felt like she was under a magnifying glass.  She wrapped her arms around her body, almost as if she was trying to protect herself.  “Is it always like that?” he asked, finally breaking the silence.
“The way you felt?” she asked.  He gave a short nod in reply.  “Yes.  I think it’s a survival thing.  It’s safer for us if you enjoy the experience.”
He didn’t say anything and she started to worry his feelings had changed about her.  She hadn’t wanted this.  She’d tried to resist feeding from him, but he’d forced it.  “Are you angry with me?” she asked.
He blinked and shook his head.  “Oh god, no,” he said, holding out his arms.  She moved into them instinctively and he held her close to his chest.  The steady even thud of his heart soothing her along with the strong arms.  “No, honey.  How could I be angry with you?  You’ve never lied to me about what you are.  This is just new - for both of us.  I wonder what it means.”
“I’m sure it will wear off,” she said.  “Like when you eat white bread.  A blood sugar spike and then drop.  By the time I need to feed again, it’ll be like it never happened.”
He pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “I guess we’ll see.”
Rose closed her eyes and just let Steve hold her.  Yesterday had been a lot.  She’d had worse days in her life, but they’d been a long time ago.  Never had she had someone there to just comfort her like this after so much stress and pain.  Usually, the person she had to be with after it, was the same person who had inflicted the pain in the first place.
She pulled back slowly and looked up at him.  “Should we find the others?” she asked.
Steve laughed.  “Oh, they’re just outside,” he said.  He opened the door of the cabin to show her the view of the lake.  On the far side, the lights from the Quin reflected off the ice from the lake, glittering like stars.  The sounds of the rest of the team talking and preparing to leave floated over on the arctic wind.  “I stayed here through the day.  I thought a wood cabin near a town and a HYDRA base might be a little risky to leave you unguarded.  If someone else came to use it or hide in it, they’d just need to start a fire and that would be the end of you.  The rest of the team was off finalizing everything.  SHIELD arrived.  They made their arrests.  The base is in the process of being cleared out of illegal equipment.”
Rose sighed in relief and leaned against him again.  “So we can go home?”
“Yeah, we have some prisoners that need to be taken to the Raft,” he said.  “But yes, we can go home.”
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// NEXT
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heartorbit · 3 months
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searching for a star that's still unknown to anyone!
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