#its extremely bad for your mental health and them!!!

[last-words-ofashootingstar]

Allure

Part One:Sunshine

❥MATZ x fem reader

Kim Hongjoong and Park Seonghwa. The most known and feared alphas of the new generation. It took two dozen elder alphas to subdue them and stick them in the world's most secluded prison- hidden away in the mountains. The prison that sweet little omega (Y/n)'s works at.

Knuckle Velvet (Part Two)

Smoke (Part Three)

➯a/n: i've always wanted to write a story i would like to see as a movie or show, and i very much enjoy supernatural and dark romance, so i made this ! it does get very dark so please read the warnings and take care of yourself first and foremost. i am very proud of this, i hope you enjoy 💕

✃ "Because you're... alluring."

✫彡wordcount: 9.3k

♫"Hey, you should leave that young thing alone, ain't no sunshine when she's gone, only darkness everyday." - Flower Face (original by Bill Withers) ♫ Allure Sountrack

(>ᴗ•)♡´･ᴗ･`♡genre: smut, YANDERE, a/b/o au

ಠ_ಠWARNING/content: DEAD DOVE I MURDERED THAT BIH

chapter specific: literally what have i done, not beta read(ironically), criminal MATZ, alpha MATZ/omega reader, forget everything you know about werewolves, so much world building, extremely yandere behavior, talk of attempted child murder, class division of werewolves, panic attacks, vulgar language, mind control, lots of scent stuff, unhealthy relationships, ptsd, flashbacks and nightmares, physical violence, manipulation of others dreams, supporting character death, forced soul bonding, forced marking, reader implied to have mental health issues, murder, gore, violence- all that good stuff. THIS IS NOT A NON CON FIC ALL EVENTUAL SMUT WILL BE CONSENSUAL.

⁂perm taglist: @stvrfir3 @tunaasan @marievllr-abg

⁂fic taglist: @potatomountain @spooo00oky

MATURE UNDER CUT MDNI

˚➶ ｡˚ PART ONE ˚➶ ｡˚

You hate weekdays. That much is true for a lot of people. You like to think your reasoning is especially valid.

Every Monday through Friday like clockwork, 6:30AM you walk into the prison. That on its own wasn't so bad. You lived only ten minutes away; the gothic building looked over your village in tandem with the mountains. You could see it when the weather was clear, even from your bedroom on the edge of town. You were no longer afraid of it like when you were a child.

You are, however, afraid of the newest prisoners.

New arrivals didn't usually rock you. This is the only prison in the country fit to hold lycans, after all. They all got transferred here eventually. From beta's who were just stealing to eat, to alphas who used their powers on humans, to those who believed in the old ways and fed on humans.

You had to interact with them all face to face.

You weren't excited for that particular aspect of your job this week.

You made your way through the double doors and greeted the security guard, your friend Hyolyn, as you went through the metal detector. It went off on account of the scent blocker that was embedded in your neck. She chuckled and switched it off so it stopped its incessant beeping.

"Don't laugh at me!" You threw a smile her way as you got your small purse from the plastic bucket she slid towards you. She doesn't bother to check your bag. She knows you well enough to know you wouldn't bring in any "fuck shit", as she would say. "You alpha's don't have to worry about accidentally spewing scent everywhere."

"Thank goodness for that, this place would stink to high heaven." Her unintentional reference to the new arrivals makes the air turn stiff. She could tell you were on edge immediately. "They aren't all that scary," she lays a comforting hand to your shoulder as you fiddle with the long strap on your crossbody bag.

"I heard one of them killed Alpha Greene... you think that's true? That guy was huge, I saw him at The Thing last year, I almost peed myself cause he looked at me-" You stop your own rambling, taking a deep breath and letting it out as a shaking sigh. "I don't want to go in there. Honestly, why can't we install a laundry chute or something, fuck."

"I'll follow you up, I c-"

"No, no, it's visiting day. You need to be down here. You know Chungha? Her daughter is visiting today. Don't want you to miss her." You offer a sad, tight lipped smile, but that doesn't trick her instincts to protect her weaker pack member. She knows you too well to be tricked.

"You just scream and I'll be there. Either of those cocky fucks lift a pinky in your direction and I'll gut them. They don't deserve to see a trial anyway."

A small exhale in the form of a chuckle lightens her protective instincts, she can tell you feel more at ease with her promise to be right there at the slightest hint of trouble.

"See you, Hyolyn."

"Later, babes."

You wave your fingers with a smile as the elevator doors slides shut. As soon as they clunk together, you let it fall and crouch with your head in your hands, taking in deep and slow breaths as you try and force all of the rumors you've heard about the two newest inmates away from your head.

The older alpha of the duo was the first born in this generation. They're always powerful. But he was born to two bloodthirsty rouges. Born in sin and blood lust.

The younger alpha was born just some months after, to an arranged marriage that was purposefully formed to make powerful children. They surely regret that now. Some say the man has the strongest, sharpest claws since the first lycan in Talbot Castle.

When the elevator dings, you're already upright and have that strong facade on that you put on when you're clocked in.

˚➶ ｡˚

You start with the familiar. "Hey, Chungha," you tap on the silver bars of her cell, "hand 'em over." She smiles as she stands, stripping the sheets from her cot and holding them through the bars for you. "Thank you," you draw on with a tug on your lips that matches hers.

"Yunnie in town?"

"Mhm," you hum as you fold the blanket before dropping it in the large basket on wheels, "she came over for stew, I made sure to feed her good and well, don't worry."

You know it was probably problematic, but you couldn't help it. Chungha came here three years ago on a charge for battery, and over those three years you became sort of friends with her.

The battered in her case was her grandfather. When her five year old daughter, Jiyun, started to show signs of being an omega- he left her in the snow to wither away. She managed to survive until her mother came home, and said mother was furious.

She was lucky she didn't charged with attempted manslaughter.

"She said she'll be here first thing."

"Thank you," she had a heavy pull on her voice. You don't have the emotional connection to other wolves like an alpha or beta did. But it was clear to anyone she was being sincere. "You're a good woman."

"Don't mention it, Yunnie is good company. Oh," you start to wheel the basket away when you remember something. You reach into the purse that you had set on the handles. "She made this at art class, asked me to give it to you so it didn't have to wait in processing."

It was a small, cruelly made ceramic bowl in the vague shape of a heart. It was clearly made by an eight year old, but made with love.

"I owe you."

"Just keep working on that parol work." You said lightly and blew a kiss as you moved to the next cell.

    The rest of your work nearly cleared your mind as you went from cell to cell, floor to floor. Omega's were on the second floor. Beta's on the third. Alphas on the fourth. High security on the fifth.

     It's on the fourth level that you begin to feel those nerves that you had just worked away. The scent was becoming stronger. They didn't put them on blockers? Maybe they didn't think it would be worth it. Everyone knew that they were the worst of the worst, they didn't even try to hide it. They would undoubtedly be put to death. Why waste two perfectly good, expensive, blockers?

     The basket of used sheets is nearly full, accumulating into a weight that makes you put your back into it as you push it into the elevator.

    Your index finger reaches out, and before you can stop yourself you've pressed the button to the fifth floor.

       You blank out until the door opens again. Your teeth are eternally grateful for the gum between them so they don't grind themselves into dust. The mint flavor does little to calm your nerves.

     The only thing that makes you come back to your own head is Changbin. He's a big, buff beta with a gun full of silver bullets on his work belt. He won't let them hurt you. His smile washes away a lot of the nerves.

    But the growl that rumbles against the walls makes them return ten, one hundred, one thousand fold. You don't dare say a word. A deer in headlights until Changbin places his hand on the small of your back. "Go on, don't give them the satisfaction of scaring you. They aren't going nowhere no time soon. Take a look."

     He motions you deeper into the hall, florescent lights buzzing above you, matching the jittering feeling in the deepest pit of your stomach. It smells too strong. Too much. You're about to fall to your knees from the weight and you haven't even come face to face with the near feral criminals.

    Changbin opens the doors at the end of the hall.

     They've definitely gone all out to keep them in place. Two large cages placed next to each other in the middle of the enormous room. Made of pure silver and wrapped in wolfsbane. The unpleasant smell of the plant makes your nose twitch. A ring of blood ash surrounds it. Only omegas can pass through blood ash, and now you start to realize why they sent you.

    You want to curse the warden, but the second you open your mouth, a loud cackle sounds out from one of the cages.

     Changbin's hand twitches at the gun attached to his side.

    "Oh wow," the smaller alpha chuckles, eyes closed, head tilted back, as he sniffs the air. "I didn't expect that." More manic giggles slip past his lips.

    You haven't even looked up to see them and you want to cave in on yourself.

    "What are you rambling about, huh?" The guard next to you shouts, making you flinch instinctively.

     "That sweet... sweet, smell," he moans. You can hear him shuffling. "From a peppy little spit fuck omega."

   You gasp abashedly, and now two laughs ring out. You want to wonder how they can smell you. Your insurance provides the best scent blocker in the country. But you're too scared to breathe, let alone think.

      "Shut up," Changbin groans, he can feel you tense next to him, "don't piss me off, Kim."

    "Awe," a new, rumbling voice makes you cower the second it reaches your ears, "this your mate? Hm, no... you wouldn't bring your mate here. You're not an idiot. Then, say... omega." You don't make a move to look when he addresses you, you stay looking at Changbins grip on his gun, silently.

     "Omega, come!" Your feet move for you, and that manic laugh almost makes you wet yourself as you realize that your wolf is making you move toward them without your consent. You stop just outside of the blood ash, where you know you're safe.

     "Changb-"

     "No. I'm the one you're speaking to."

   Changbin seems to be weighing his options, eyeing the men as they eye you.

    "Why are you here? You a shrink?"

    You shake your head.

   "You a lawyer?"

    Again.

   "She works here, dumbass, look at her scrubs," the younger speaks, and you nod subconsciously, to which he giggles, "what can we do for a pretty little thing like you?"

    When you refuse to speak, the guard does it for you. "She's here for your sheets today. Get used to her."

     You hated that this was your job, but it was easy and accessible, and available for omegas. Werewolves are clean freaks. Every day you had a different cleaning task, but you didn't complain. Not until right now- you wanted to rip out the throat of whoever's idea it was to not shoot these criminals on sight.

     "Ah," he hums, and you can feel his eyes raking your body. You can feel both of their eyes. "Not too bad of a sight to get used to. Huh, Hwa?"

     "Mh, that's right... can't wait to get my hands on her."

Your head snaps back to Changbin.

"Awn, she thinks he's gonna help her!" The high pitched giggles bounce around in your head. "Oh, little omega~"

The saccharine coo finally pulls your eyes to the men in the cages.

If you thought you knew what fear was before this moment, you were wrong.

The two strongest criminals in the country, staring you down like a piece of meat. It doesn't matter that they are the ones in cages of silver and wolfsbane. You are the one who feels cornered.

You can immediately feel out their dynamics. The taller one is the older one, quiet and still in his cage as he sits in the center. Shaggy, shining hair framing his face and neck like an elegant piece of lace over a brides face. He has a sleeve of tattoos on one forearm, a thick tattoo on his neck. Eyes glowing a deep, blood red, as he tries to read your entire story with only a look in your direction.

The giggling one is less intimidating, only by a hair. Chemically lightened locks pushed back messily, letting his entrancing features shine in the light from the narrow windows high on the walls. He has tattoos as well, but they seem few and far between. His eyes are human for a moment before they meet yours. Instantaneously, they flick black.

The knot drops from your throat and you let out a small, pathetic, squeak.

Changbin breaks your staring contest with the alpha, shouting orders at them. "Take the sheets off your cot and set them outside of your cage. Do not attempt to touch her, I will shoot you."

    Neither criminal makes a move to follow his orders, both simply staring at you.

A low growl is emitted when the older alpha finally snaps up, tearing the sheet off the sorry excuse for a bed in one fell swoop. The younger follows his lead, shoving their sheets through the bars that are wrapped in the poisonous flower.

You look to the guard, and he nods, "go." With his finger twitching at the gun ready to pull it, you jump over the dark red ashes and into the wolves den, snatching the sheets up as quick as possible and dashing away, out the door before they even get a chance to lock in your scent up close.

The giggles follow you all the way to the elevator and ring in your head even as the thick metal thunks shut.

As you take a deep breath, you notice the sheets are gripped to your chest, your claws drawn subconsciously in your panic and ripping them up. "Shit!" You let out a curse and shove them into the bottom of the basket so you don't have to smell it as closely on the long ride to the basement.

˚➶ ｡˚

The lingering wafts of your fresh scent are long gone, nothing to distract the alpha's from their caged boredom and bubbling rage over being caught. "I'll have that runts heart in my hands by the end of the month." Hongjoong groaned, to no one in particular- he knew Seonghwa was too deep in thought from their recent revelations. "Fucking back stabbers. They're more pathetic than a bitch in heat trying to get off with a dildo."

The thought hit his mind as soon as the words left his lips.

The thought of you, legs spread with your hand dipped low, trying to satisfy your primal urges and-

"Stop that." Seonghwa growls, kicking the bars of their shared 'wall'.

"Settle down!"

"Oh, like you weren't thinking it!" Hongjoong rolls his eyes, a scowl on his face as he crosses his arms. "Your ruts coming and you don't want your-"

"I said stop," he nearly roars, grabbing Hongjoong's state issued orange top and ripping it with his claws as he pulls him forward.

"I know you want her because I want her too." He whispers, smirking at the telltale signs of desire and bloodlust in his mates eyes. Red swirling around the brown of his human eyes. "Imagine how good she'll smell when we take out that stupid blocker. We'll be drowning in her scent." He moans, grabbing his wrist, "I get the honors, my claws are sharper, anyways," he draws them quickly, digging them into his skin as if to prove a point.

"I can use my teeth, mark h-"

"Oh, will you two stop? Love of God..." The guard in the large room slaps his book down on the rickety table. "What is there possibly for you to be fighting about? You're about to be executed, you know that right? No jury in the world will let you walk, especially the human half."

Their frustrations turn to the man, letting each other go. "Ah, you think so?" The older croons, dragging his index over his bleeding wrist and bringing it to his lips, sucking it clean before he continues. "We won't be around these parts long enough to meet the jury."

"What do you mean by that?"

Hongjoong covers his mouth when a laugh slips past. Seonghwa simply smirks as he sits cross legged, eyes locked with the guard as he licks his wound.

"What do you mean by that?!"

The blonde man breaks out in a fit of laughter. The brunette simply flashes his bloody canines in a twisted smile.

˚➶ ｡˚

You spent the whole time doing your daily tasks trying to hype yourself up to go back up to the fifth floor.

You usually went top down, four to one. Nobody has ever been on five before.

You go bottom up today, starting at Chungha with a full basket of freshly washed sheets. She prattles on about her visit with Jiyun, and how she's so thankful for you.

You choose that as your focus point for the rest of the work day, even as you press the button to the fifth floor.

You think back to the first time you spoke to Chungha, she was a crying mess, unable to sense that you were an omega like herself. She cried and cried and cried as you held her hand through the bars of temporary holding. She cried for her daughter, for cursing her with the shame of being the weakest link of any pack. When she looked up and saw your eyes, barely glowing, she cried more.

She apologized profusely, but you reassured her that her words were true, and you hadn't been offended. You told her that, in fact, she was the first to ever share your feelings of what being an omega really meant. It meant loneliness beside anyone but other omegas. Fake relationships born with people who only stuck around because of their primal instincts to either prey on you or protect you. It meant facing the fact that you were outcasts from both of the world's dominant societies. Outcasted from humans for being a werewolf. Outcasted from werewolves for being weak. So weak, in fact, that blood ash didn't even think of you as a wolf.

That night, you drove four hours to the next village over and looked after her daughter until her aunt had room. You remember the first thing the girl said to you. She didn't speak that whole day, surely in shock from the past few days events. But when you tucked her into the motel bed, she spoke as soft as a ghost, "sing me a song?"

You hum it to yourself now, the soft sound reverberating through the metal around you until the door opened.

You wheel the basket with you this time, like it will protect you as you approach the open doors, already feeling the unwavering gaze of the criminals.

"Hey, dolly~" Hongjoong, you had learned when you took a peek into their files, purred your way.

You didn't give him the satisfaction of responding verbally, but he saw the goosebumps on your arm as you reached into the basket, stretching on your tip toes to get the last two sheets.

"You never shut up do you, Kim?" The guard sighed with an exhausted tone, making you smile as you slowly made your way to the ring of red dust.

The throaty rumble from Seonghwa, the older, taller wolf, makes that smile drop to the depths of Hell.

The new guard seems to notice your anxiety, eyeing you up- in a much less predatory manner than the caged men. "Go on, 'mega. I'm watching them."

A bang on the metal bars makes you glue your foot right back where it came from. It's the blonde one, "you shut the fuck up!"

"No, you shut the fuck up! I'm the one with the silver bullets!"

All of the yelling is making you tremble, Hongjoong and the guard going back and forth. "She isn't your omega!"

"She ain't yours!"

Seonghwa watches with a sinister smile as you back away from the ash and the guard, calling to you quietly, "hey."

The soft tone of his voice makes you raise your eyes, but not your head. His eyes don't hold that threatening and dominating red from before. They're a soft brown color that reminds you of a beautiful dark oak in the morning sunshine. "What's your name?"

"(Y/n)..." your tongue moves without your consent, fresh blankets held to your work scrubs.

You desperately want the guard to notice this trance you're in, and grab you out of it. You want to do it yourself, but you can't do anything but admire the beauty of the criminal who has you hypnotized.

"You're a pretty omega, y'know? What color is your wolf?"

"Black..." It's a slur off your lips, barely registering in his sharply tuned ears over the yelling that continues to fill the room.

"Mine too. What's her name? His is Akma."

"Solis."

"Very pretty. Is she fast?"

"Yes."

"Does she want an alpha? A mate?"

"Yes."

The guard finally notices your raised gaze, affixed to the infamous, unlawful, man. He puts his gun back in the holster quickly before gripping your shoulder and forcing you to turn around. "You idiot, didn't anyone ever tell you not to look a first born in the eyes?"

"Sorry. I'm sorry." No one had ever told you that, actually.

Both of the criminals share a smirk as the man from your pack attempts to calm you. It wasn't hard for them to figure out you were an alpha-less village. They could smell every single wolf in five miles, and not a single stench from a wolf even nearly as strong as them.

There was, however, you. A honeyed smell that filled their guts with the primal need to rip out the eyes of anyone who dared look at you.

The guard couldn't be more wrong. You are their omega. You just don't know yet.

"Go and give these fucks their sheets, then get the hell out of here." The man shoved you, making you jump clumsily over the ash so you didn't break the seal.

He yells at them to back up, and they do so without a fight.

You shove them both in at the same time before running back out quickly, grabbing the empty basket and dragging it with you, the sound of the wheels scraping with the force of your panic echoing in the near empty room.

"You guys get off on scaring defenseless girls?" The guard scoffs, not expecting an answer as he drags the chair out of the room and slams the doors behind him.

Seonghwa lets his facade fall the second the door shuts, falling to his knees and grappling at the sheet like he's a starving man with the last piece of food on Earth. Hongjoong watches for a moment in confusion until the scent catches up with his weaker nose. Then he's quickly falling in the same position.

"It worked, the guard was so easy to distract," Hongjoong chuckles, face buried into the sheet that smells vaguely like you from your time spent holding it. "What did you learn?"

"(Y/n), a black wolf named Solis," he pauses, eyes rolled back as he takes a deep breath. They're red when they re-open. "No mate. It's really her."

"You think we should have told her?" Hongjoong inquires, looking through the bars.

He's never seen Seonghwa on his knees for anyone but him or the moon.

"No," he shakes his head, turning to lock eyes with him. "She'll figure it out when I mark her."

"When I mark her."

He rolls his eyes at his defiant nature, knowing full well he won't disobey his orders no matter how badly he wants to do something.

In a dog eat dog world, the strongest was the most powerful. Unlike their human neighbors, werewolves don't decide political or social standing by money or family name. They decide based on who comes out on top in a battle of the body and of the wits.

It had been determined years ago, when they were just young rebellious pups, that Seonghwa was the alpha. A fight in the woods under the moon had set it in stone between the two.

He could have ripped Hongjoongs throat out right then and there, but now, 13 years later in the present; they're bonded for life.

Sometimes he still sees Hongjoong as that 12 year old boy under his teeth, still snapping and growling even as he bled out with tears in his dark eyes, fighting to survive purely out of spite.

"You can mark her first," Seonghwa speaks quickly, turning his back as he puts the sweet smelling sheet on his cot.

He smiles at the man, a quiet thanks spoken through their bonded souls.

˚➶ ｡˚

Tuesday, they don't see you until much later in the day, but they bask in the sight of you opening the door with a broom and tray in hand, smiling at Changbin. You'll be here for a while, it's a big room.

"Hey, Binnie," you whisper to the beta, and Seonghwa has to bite his tongue.

Binnie? Ugh.

Hongjoong isn't so polite, "hey, Dolly! We don't get a hello?" You barely peek at him, eyes flicked from him right back to the floor in a millisecond. He knows you noticed his pout when he hears the smallest 'hello' tremble by your lips.

You start in the corner, headphones attached to your walkman with your favorite song on repeat to try and soothe yourself. Bill Withers calming voice blocks out every word of the teasing alphas, but you can still feel them mocking you and picking at you.

You don't dare sweep anywhere near the blood ash on the floor. One less precaution in place was one more thing to worry about.

"Bye, Binnie."

He does growl that time, eyes narrowed on your back until the door shuts.

˚➶ ｡˚

Wednesday, you have a frown on your face. "Three days in a row?" The guard Hongjoong got in a yelling match with, Merle, greets you as you come into the cavernous room, "bad schedule huh?"

"No kidding," you sigh, feet slightly hesitant to pass the dust border, "I'm here to fix your shirt. It's state property." You don't look at them, but they know who you're referring to.

They act like they don't, though. Just to hear more of your voice. To make you wriggle under their attention. "Sorry? What do you mean?"

You look and point to Hongjoong, his collar ripped from Seonghwas grasp. "State property."

"Ah, of course." He grins like a jackal, pulling it over his head and sticking his hand out of the bars just in the slightest. "On one condition."

You pout, eyes on the shirt which is just far enough away that you'd have to step closer. And it's the cutest fucking thing they've ever seen.

You look back up at him, silently asking. "Sit and talk with us. The guards here are no fun!" His laugh makes you jump back further, he sounds like a mad pirate.

You look over to Merle, who just shrugs, "just get it over with so these guys will shut up. They're only talkative around you, they need an audience for their antics."

"We won't bite," Seonghwa chuckles with his teeth exposed, making you shiver.

"Fine, give it here." You take a single step forward, palm out infront of the blonde.

When you grab it and go to race away like always, his claws wrapping all the way around your wrist stops you, sharp edges threatening to slice your skin down to the bone. You scream your head off, silenced when Seonghwa coos softly, "sit with us, and talk."

"Let me go..." you plead, eyes frantically flicking to Merle, whose gun is drawn to Hongjoongs head from the border of the ash, waiting for him to take one more wrong move so he can rid the world of one of its greatest criminals.

"Sit, omega." You do so, slowly lowering to the floor with your wrist and life still in Hongjoongs hand. "You have your sewing kit with you, I can hear the buttons hitting the needle. So sit, stay, and talk while you fix it."

Once again, they're the ones caged in. But you're the one who's stuck.

     One look to Merle tells you he probably wouldn't help you even if he could get to you. He lowers his gun as your tailbone hits the concrete floor.

     Your thin work scrubs do little to fight the cold of the old flooring, one reason of many that you shake as you reach into your purse and get the small tin box.

     Hongjoong releases your wrist and sits mirrored to you, hands perched on the bars in the gaps of the purple vine flower wrapped on them. Seonghwa comes to the corner of his side of the split cage and breathes in deeply through his nose, eyes locked in on your every movement. "So you're essentially the errand lady? Maid?"

      "Yes..." You murmur under your breath as your fingers work to thread the needle, slowly backing away until you're out of reach, but still stuck in the blood ash with no one to rescue should the men infront of you decide to rip their cages open. You only stop backing away when you hear a warning growl.

     You don't care to see which it came from, you just want to do this as quickly as possible and get far, far, away. They could have chose anyone to focus their annoying efforts on. Changbin, Merle, the warden. But no, just your luck.

      "You live in the village, right? Were you born here?" Seonghwa continues to do the talking as you carefully fix the shirt.

      "Yes. And no."

     A small hum from the one in front of you is a sign they want you to continue. "I was born to an overpopulated pack. They kicked me out when I turned eighteen. Our old alpha took me in." The hitch in your voice is a clear sign that it's a sore topic. And Hongjoong continues to poke the wound.

      "How did they find you?"

       "Woods."

       "Woods?"

     You can't help the small growl of frustration, lip curling as you look up. "Woods."

     The reaction is one you wouldn't have expected from a normal person, but then- they aren't normal.

     They laugh, cooing over your gesture of anger. Compared to them, you seem like a teacup puppy. "My, my," the brunette chuckles breathily, "is that Solis coming to play?"

     "At least she can," you snap, sent to the back of your own head as your wolf tries to defend you, "she isn't a caged mutt."

    Hongjoong breaks out into a manic fit of laughter, while his paramour is the opposite: his eyes flick red before your own, sharp teeth on display in a show of dominance over your smaller ones that are subconsciously bared at him. "Watch it, omega." He spits his words with venom, "I won't be so nice when I get out of here."

     You rip the extra thread with your claw, kicking the shirt across the floor so it sits at the bottom bar of Hongjoongs cage. His chest still wracks with laughter, watching as you sit up in a low squat so you're still level with the alpha.

      It's clear that you aren't currently you. Your wolf has control of your mouth and body, crouched in a position akin to that of a dog ready to pounce as you hiss your words, "I'm going to laugh in your face as you hang."

     "Aw, is that how dear old alpha died?"

     "Cut it out!" Merle screams disinterested, eyes glued to his flimsy magazine.

      "I heard he got gutted~" Hongjoong giggles, watching the color flicking in your eyes.

     "I'll gut you!" Your threat only makes him laugh more.

      "(Y/n)!" The voice of Hylyon breaks your wolf away from you immediately, falling to your bottom and crawling to the sound unwittingly. "You fucking idiot, Merle!" 

     She reaches over the blood ash and pulls you over the ring, letting you collapse into her as she drags you away, still throwing profanities at the incompetent guard. Hongjoong is laughing loudly. Seonghwa yelling at you to come back. The elevator cuts of his roar, the last thing you see through your blurry vision is his fist making a dent in the silver cage.

You fall onto the floor of the metal box. Thoughts flood your head too quickly for you to swim though them, making you drown and try to escape by releasing the pain with tears. You don't even notice when your friend turns her key in the elevator to make it stop in its tracks, you only see her when she sits right infront of you.

"Babes, calm down, I've got you," she reaches out slowly and places a hand on your leg, slowly rubbing her thumb over your knee.

"I can't go back up there... they're too strong, they make me feel like I'm suffocating," you splutter through gasps, "I'm too weak!"

"Hey, hey, you're spiraling!" She opens her arms and pulls you into her, letting you sob into her uniform. "In and out, girl," she holds the back of your neck securely, almost instantaneously making you calm. "I got you... I got you..."

You sit there for a good while, crying into her shoulder as you sort through your wracked brains.

Your alpha was gutted. Right in front of you. Because of you.

Unbeknownst to you, their tuned ears are still listening in, the elevator stuck within their ear shot as you begin mumbling your favorite song to yourself through tears.

˚➶ ｡˚

The sound of claws slicing through the skin on your back rings in your ears. Though, you can't feel it. Your eyes are locked in on your own claws, dug into the hardwood floor of your humble home to keep yourself from being dragged.

     You've been here a million times before.

     Blood pooling off of your body and onto the frigid surface below you. Teeth sharp and bared to the moon though the open window, begging that she might let you survive. Eyes aglow with your instincts as your wolf tries with every fiber of her being to turn, but she knows it's no use.

     The distorted voice above you drips with mocking venom, a chuckle as its owner realizes you can't even fight back like other wolves might: by letting your wolf fully transform.

     The wind blows through your curtains, washes your body in the artic breeze. The snowflakes on your windowsill are so delicate, all of their features fade into a blurry mush as they make contact. They melt, dripping down your wall.

     This time it's different.

      You're turned over, gaping wounds slammed into the floor as always, but when you look up to your aggressor it's different.

      His eyes aren't the yellow of a rouge, but the red of an alpha. His hair isn't that unruly blonde curl that you pulled at frantically, that you can still feel on your finger tips when your hands are unoccupied. It's long, shining, soft looking dark locks.

       You fall through the floor into another time, another place.

     Face first into the snow: your hands, shaking with adrenaline, do little to catch you.

       You don't remember this.

       This isn't right.

       This isn't your nightmare.

       You find yourself in a clearing in a forrest, the densely packed trees creating a bubble of nature around you. "(Y/n)?"

      You whip around, coming face to face with an unfamiliar man. Almost face to face. If he weren't floating a few feet in the air.

     His legs are crossed under him, hands facing palms up on his knees.

      "Don't worry. You're only dreaming." He speaks calmly as he floats around you in a circle, like a shark examining its potential prey.

     You follow him with your feral gaze, that familiar feeling of an adrenaline crash quickly approaching.

You know you're only dreaming. You've had that last dream more times than you can count in the past three years. It always plays the same. But not this time. You're only slightly thankful that you don't have to witness your alphas death again, but the gratefulness is overshadowed by confusion.

"Are you an angel?" You whisper, watching the man's soft and rounded features as he comes to a stop in the air in front of you and gracefully lowers to his feet.

"I can be, if that's what you want me to be. I'm only here to watch your dreams, fight off the nightmares."

"Why?" You feel distant from your body, watching powerlessly as your hand takes his, letting him lead you out of the clearing and into the darkness of the woods.

It disappears around you, warping into a spring day on a familiar path.

"A favor for a friend."

With the snow gone, you're in your spot, your old towel on the dewy grass with a book laid atop of it and the soil beneath your feet as you approach.

"Enjoy."

The hand vanishes from your own, leaving you alone on the side of the path. You look for him. But he's just an eidolon, watching you from the sky where you can't see him.

You warily take a seat and pick up the book.

˚➶ ｡˚

They don't see you again through the week. And when the next Monday comes by, their sheets are removed while they're in the showers.

Hongjoong sighs from his place on the floor, for the tenth time in the past half hour.

"Hong-"

"I miss our omega!" He whines, cutting him off.

Seonghwa stands from his cot, slowly lowering to the floor next to their shared bars. He lays flat on his back, mirroring Hongjoong as he tilts his head to look at him. "Soon." Is the only word he utters.

He reaches through the silver bars, ignoring the sting as the fresh wolfsbane brushes his wrist, and takes his hand.

The both of them look up at the ceiling through the bars of their enclosure.

Your scent is long gone from the room, and their noses can barely pick up on it through the rest of the village and prison.

"I want out of here," Hongjoong whispers, so lowly that the guard can't hear him from outside of the door, "when are they coming? Your bond with them is stronger, I can barely feel them..."

"Soon." He repeats, "very soon, Joong."

˚➶ ｡˚

Tuesday you manage to talk your coworker into sweeping the top floor, and you rejoice in the freedom of not being under the alpha's gazes. You've worked out a good schedule to completely avoid seeing them, and it's made your job feel like it's back to normal.

You can still smell their power wafting through the AC, but it's bearable. You distract yourself in your free time by making excuses to be on the second floor with Chungha and the other omegas.

Today, that excuse is 'omegas need physical outlets too', and the warden let you bring up buckets and brushes so you could all scrub the base boards.

"Oh, I've got one!" The omega to your left speaks, lifting his brush in the air in a eureka moment, "Texas Chainsaw Massacre or... Halloween?"

Chungha scoffs with a smile as she scrubs away to your right, "are we including sequels? There's like a billion!"

"No, stand alone original," Beomhan goes back to scrubbing as he continues, "both of them are classics but which one is a better classic?"

"Halloween is the classic slasher, Texas Chainsaw is like psychological horror," you chime in as you dip your brush into the bucket, sitting on your calves as you take a breather. "I think it's not fair to compare them... but Texas Chainsaw, definitely."

They laugh along with you, and Chungha shakes her head, "Halloween has more rewatchablity. You don't want to see Sally go through that more than once, but Laurie Strode fights harder and it's more like, yeah I'll watch her kick ass again."

"Cinematography in both is so beaut-"

The lights above you flicker before they shut down completely. People start muttering their concerns, quite a few of them looking your way. "Don't worry!" You hop up and get your keys from your pocket as you make your way to the locked stairwell. "I'll go and see what's going on, keep scrub-"

A loud siren echoes in the brick walls, shocking you all to cover your ears.

Everyone looks to you for answers, and you don't have any as your brain starts throwing theory after theory at you.

"It's okay, go back to your cells! Shut them behind you!"

They listened, however grumpy about it. The cell doors locked automatically when they were closed.

"Hey, what's going on?" Chungha asked over the clanging of the cell doors. The two of you, along with Beomhan, were the only ones left after a moment.

"Go back to your cell, Beomhan, hurry."

"No, what's happening?"

     The sirens cut off and leave you in a pregnant pause for a moment as you simply try to calm yourself.

A deafening scream ricochets through the air vent next to you, scaring you into their arms as you all stare at it.

Usually, the air flow covered the echoes throughout the floors. But with no power, you could hear everything- albeit muffled.

Yells and shouts. Gunshots. Growls. Unidentifiable chaos. And above all, your ears tuned in on a rumbling, calm voice through it all.

"Ain't no sunshine when she's gone... It's not warm when she's away..."

Your eyes widen as theres a bang at the stairwell door. "Go, go!" You grab each of their wrists, dragging them into Chungha's cell. You slam it behind you and let down the sheet she has over it, backing away and staring at it as you hear the door hit the wall behind it with the force it's slammed open.

"(Y/n), what the hells happening?!"

     You slap your hand over his mouth and bring a finger to your lips. The other omegas on the floor are all making a ruckus, and you can only hope that it will confuse that unfortunately familiar voice so he can't find you.

˚➶ ｡˚

The beta in the large room ignores Hongjoong as he continuously asks after 'the pretty omega'.

He just sweeps and sweeps, finally understanding why you hate coming up here. He has his back turned to the cage, and consequently, to the windows.

High on the tall walls, the narrow glass is opened from the outside. Seonghwa smirks, and gestures his head to it. Hongjoongs gaze follows, and he has to slap a hand over his mouth so he doesn't laugh.

A skinny figure is sliding its way in through the window sideways.

He drops to the floor as silent as a mouse, landing on his knees and grinning wildly up at his alphas.

Hongjoong throws his head back in preemptive relief, while Seonghwa is watching with a similarly wide smile as the man walks straight through the blood ash, breaking the circle with the tip of his shoe.

The worker still has his back turned as the lock on Seonghwas cage is picked with a long claw. He doesn't even know what's happening as the next thing he knows, he's thrown across the floor.

      Blood ash knocks up around him, coughs wracking his body as he looks up to his assailant.

      Park Seonghwa, newly freed from his cage, looks down at the worker with his eyes glowing red.

     "Now usually..." He begins, crouching to be face to face with him, "I'd go through this whole place just for the fuck of it and cause some beautiful chaos. But I'm looking for someone."

     "(Y/n)?" He stutters out, backing away only to knock into Hongjoongs legs. Stuck between the two criminals, he chooses his own head over yours. "The second floor! Sh-she's on the second floor!"

     "Let's go get our omega, Joong."

      Nonchalantly, Hongjoong draws his claws and slices the neck of the worker. He hops over the gurgling body and follows his mate with an ecstatic giggle.

      He wraps his arm around the skinny man's shoulder, "Wooyoung! Our savior~" He ruffles his hair and laughs as he groans.

     "You guys know I've got your back. Seonghwa told me about your new omega, you seem excited," he mimics the alphas smile as the eldest of the trio opens the doors.

     The guard on duty, who happens to be Merle, looks back with wide eyes.

"Yes, oh yes!" His eyes roll to the back of his head, touching the stitches you made on his shirt. "Oh, you'll love her, she's a feisty omega just like you."

He makes a run for the fire alarm at the end of the hall, but Seonghwa is faster. The beta is tackled to the floor.

"I'm glad you both will have a buffer, tired of you always at each other's throats during ruts," Wooyoung laughs, looking down at the guard as they pass.

Seonghwa had simply torn out his throat with his bare hand and made his way to the elevator, holding it open with an impatient glare.

The door closes behind them and the only sound is Seonghwa's heavy breathing.

"You're real eager, huh?" The omega breaks the silence, "San should be coming in any second to block the main door. No one will get past him. The rest are in the village, just as we planned."

"Good, she'll need somewhere to rest before we take off....Fucking idiots, thinking they can cage us." He groans, eyes flicking to the number above the doors as it dings.

       3? "Fuck."

     The door opens and the woman on the other side takes a moment, nearly walking in before she notices the crimson liquid dripping from Segonhwa's hand.

      She makes it halfway through the hall before Hongjoong pounces on her, fighting her effortlessly as if she's a rag doll. The guards run to try and save her, but it's too late for the unfortunate woman, and they just signed their own death certificate as well.

       Seonghwa and Wooyoung make quick work of them, but their plan is already foiled as the lights flicker to a halt and leave them bathed in dim light of the setting sun in the few windows.

      The alphas fall to their knees as their sensitive ears are bombarded with a loud, incessant siren.

      "Wooyoung!" Hongjoong screams over it, "go turn that shit off!"

      He nods, taking the keys off a mauled guard and dashing to the stair well, leaving it unlocked behind him.

     Hongjoong crawls to Seonghwa, collapsing into his chest with his teeth clenched and palms over his ears. His ears were always more sensitive.

     His partner places his hands over his, thumb running over his own. He looks down with his eyes glowing red, meeting pure black.

He leans and kisses him deeply, all teeth and bloodlust, trying to merge their souls until the sirens cuts off.

Their foreheads rest together, ignoring the chaos of the beta's around them yelling to be released.

"Are you ready?" Seonghwa whispers, gathering another set of keys from the fallen workers. He throws it to one of the locked in prisoners, a smirk on his face. So much for not creating chaos.

"Let's go," Hongjoong holds the door to the staircase open and lets him go first with a dramatic bow.

It takes one scream to start the havoc. The entire prison is filled with the sickly sweet sounds of caged animals with a taste of freedom. Gunfire and howls bring a smile to Seonghwa's lips as he sings out,

"Ain't no sunshine when she's gone... it's not warm when she's away..."

He hums the song with a wide grin as Hongjoong kicks the door. It takes only one more kick before it slams open and bangs against the cement wall.

The omegas in their cells are all yelling at them, at one another, in general.

Hongjoong kicks one of the many buckets on the floor over and groans, "here I was thinking she'd make it easy. I guess we'll have to go cell to cell!" A small spike of a heartbeat in his ears makes him smirk, following the sound that he memorized the first time he'd heard it.

Seonghwa follows him, immediately zeroing in on the same cell. He comes to stand infront of it, his breath making the blanket behind the bars sway slightly.

You see both pairs of orange slip on shoes and you feel your heart stop in your chest.

You cower further into the corner with Beomhan as Chungha stands in front of you. The sheet is grabbed from the outside and ripped away, making you all shriek.

"Were you playing hide and seek?" Hongjoong giggles, throwing the blanket to the side with his eyes never leaving you, a scowl growing on his features as he notices the way you're curling into another wolf. "You should know better than to hide from your alphas. Come on out."

You shake your head, gaze lowered as you hold onto the back of Chungha's uniform.

"(Y/n)," the saturnine man speaks, "come here."

"No, leave us alone! Leave me alone," your voice cracks despite how strong you want to appear.

"If I have to drag you out of here I will be very angry. Just come on, do us all a solid."

"No-"

"Open the fucking door!"

"No!"

The cells were built to hold lycans, which means lycans shouldn't be able to get in... right?

"Fucking-" Seonghwa hits the bars, leaving a dent and making the three of you jump.

Hongjoong leans on his tiptoes and whispers into his ear, and whatever he says makes his eyes begin glowing a murderous red.

He slowly wraps his clawed fingers around the bars, and the way Hongjoong backs up makes your stomach churn in anxiety of what's about to come.

And it was warranted anxiety.

With a loud growl and a single tug, he rips the silver bars from their cemented place in the wall, causing a large crack to form.

"Holy shit!" Beomhan screams, arms wrapping around you tightly.

Chungha is ripped from the small room and tossed all the way across the room, back colliding with the wall and leaving her unconscious.

You yelp as Beomhan meets a similar fate, torn from your grasp and out into the rec room like he's a mere bag of trash. You see Hongjoong approaching him with his long black claws out and proud, but your vision is blocked by the large alpha infront of you.

     Your hips back into Chungha's small desk, and your hands clamber around, landing on something small and solid.

     You swing it at his head and he ducks, grabbing your wrist and dragging you out of the small cell. You manage to swing again, making contact with his head. The small ceramic bowl shatters into pieces and leaves him only temporarily stunned, glaring down at you.

      "Fucking stop," he growls quietly, shoving you to the floor.

       He lets you shuffle away, only because Hongjoong is right behind you.

     The blonde chuckles, pulling you back up by your collar and crashing you face first into one of the round steel tables bolted into the floor. "Ow!" You yell out as your head makes contact, fighting against him with all your might, but it's fruitless.

     He kicks your feet apart and stands between them, leaning his chest over your back. You can feel his nose against your neck, over the healed skin above your scent blocker. You snap your eyes shut and do the only thing you can thing of.

     You can't fight. Begging to these men would be useless. You can't disappear into the floor like you wish you could.

     "Please, Selene," you pray to the moon, tears slipping past your shut eyes as you feel the claws of the mad man on your neck.

       You cry out as the other worldly sharp nails slice into your neck, slowly and almost surgically. His other hand is cupped on the back of your head, keeping your head pushed into the cold metal. "Shhhh," he gushes above you, "it's okay."

      Seonghwa sits at one of the bolted stools and rests his head to mimic yours, cheek on the table. "We'd've been more gentle if you listened, omega."

       Between the tips of his claws, Hongjoong holds your small alloy scent blocker. Almost instantaneously, your natural scent floods their senses.

     Their deep rumbles of pleasure make you snap your eyes back shut, missing the way Hongjoong stomps on the device.

     "Fuck," the wolf behind you curses, body pressed close to yours like he wants to fuse together, he places his hands in yours and tells you, "you might want to squeeze."

    "Wh- ah!" Your scream echoes over all of the other chaos as his teeth sink into your left shoulder, and you do just that. Your clawed hands squeeze around his, sharp nails knocking together as you hold on like his hands are the only thing keeping you from slipping to the underworld.

       It feels like a million pins and needles washing over you, leaving you paralyzed in place as he purrs into the wound, making your bones vibrate.

     A warm, comforting hand on your cheek makes you force your eyes open. Seonghwa smiles sweetly, like he isn't witnessing one of the biggest crimes in the lycan community.

      Forcing someone to be your mate for the rest of your mortal lives.

     "Breathe, omega," his words make you realize you're holding your breath, and you let it out as a sob. "That's it," he hums, rubbing his hand down your head with all the gentleness he's capable of.

        Hongjoong pulls away with a moan, resting his head between your shoulder blades as he catches his breath.

     Your wolf is already calling for her mate, howling in the back of your mind as you cry.

       "Don't worry, we'll take good care of you." Seonghwas words have little time to register in your adrenaline filled head as he turns your head the other way and climbs up on the table.

     It hits you when he moves your ruffled shirt away from your right shoulder. "No! No!" You find yourself with two million pins and needles in your body now, squeezing Hongjoongs hands all over again as Seonghwa sinks his teeth into you at an excruciatingly slow pace.

They're bigger, or maybe they only feel that way because your body is on fire. You sob freely, feet stomping pathetically to cope with the pain.

What little comfort you find in Hongjoong squeezing your hands back is washed away by the simple fact that it's him. That blood from his claws drips onto your skin.

It feels like a century later that the older alpha finally pulls away, a bellow of pleasure as he runs his thumb over the wound: making you jump.

"Your turn, omega."

The weight of their bodies is gone, but you can't bring yourself to move. Out of fear, maybe. Pain, perhaps.

"You know what happens to wolves who don't finish the bond." Hongjoong purrs teasingly, knowing full well that you will have to mark them back least you want to suffer at the hands of the moon herself.

A life with them was better than being turned inside out and left to the elements. Just barely.

You lift yourself on shaking arms and nearly fall as you turn. You would have if not for Hongjoong catching you. He lifts you back to the table much gentler, letting your legs dangle as you sit on the table top.

"Why... why me?"

"... Have you heard of Harry Talbot?"

"Harry Talbots a myth... what's he got to do with your fuck shit?"

"Harry Talbot was the first wolf that could smell his mate. He could tell just by her smell, they were meant to be." Hongjoong slots his way between your legs, smiling down at you with his bloody teeth, "her smell called to him. It wasn't just good. It wasn't a normal scent. It was...alluring."

You were growing dizzy, head spinning.

"Strong alphas can sniff out their true mate. And, baby, we're the strongest that there is."

You have to force yourself to swallow. Have to remember to breathe.

"Why? Because you're... alluring."

That's the last thing you can register before your world turns dark.

˚➶ ｡˚ PART ONE END ˚➶ ｡˚

[icarusredwings]

Thinking about Logan fighting with Wades Hullicinations and while it doesn't do shit, Wade finds it extremely romantic.

(Warning!! Mentions mental health issues such as ending your self and harmful intrusive thoughts.)

He just wakes up in the middle of the night to argueing and obviously, he gets all upset and ready to slash some face only to find that Wade's arguing with himself again.

You just see his shoulders, arms, and hair on the back of his neck go down as he rolls his eyes, rubbing his face because he's eepy.

"What the fuck are you doing?"

"T-trying to win an argument agaisnt this limp dicked fucker." And he just crosses his arms and glares at an empty seat, and some tears staining his cheeks. It's obvious it's been a while.

"Oh my god- Wade, It's 3 in the morning! There's noth-" But he sees him tilt his head and glance at the chair multiple times, more tears forming.

Logan sighs heavily and is like, "Fine. Where is he? What the fuck is so important that hes saying it at 3 in the morning?"

At first, he doesn't answer, and he just stares at the chair as more tears form.

It hits Logan now that this isn't like one of the jokey times about the films he makes in his head rather a more damaging kind. He comes over and pulls his chin up and is like, "Hey! Litsen to me, What is that garbage of a person telling you? Hm?"

He pats his cheek, and Wade cries more, trying to nuzzle into his hand, mumbling all the intrusive thoughts that his brain is subconsciously telling himself through visual and auditory falsehood. That no one loves him, how he doesn't deserve to be alive because of all the bad things he's done, how even Mary Puppins thinks the world would be better without him, etc etc. A load of bullshit bassically.

"What!? No! Why would it tell you that?"

Wade just shrugs and looks at his lap, thinking Logans is going to yell at him for believing it and be disappointed in him, but instead Logan just gets up and goes ape shit on this poor chair, kicking it across the room, stabbing it, hitting it, etc.

All while Wade is watching in awe, not because Logan is getting the shadow man but it's the point that he would go so far and make a fool out of himself just to bring him peace of mind.

During the fight, he glances to the hullicination and is like "Oh you're so fucked when he finds you." And in Wades head it turns to him with a look of worry.

Then logan stands up, panting and is like "Did I get him!?"

Wade can't help but to sniffle, wipe his tears and giggle because yeah, watching your boyfriend beat the fuck out of a random chair for you was hilarious. Al wouldn't be happy in the morning to find it in peices, but he was extremely happy. "Ppfft- you gottem Tiger!"

Logan nods, looks at the mess he's made, shrugs it off, and goes back to the bedroom with a yawn. "Good... If they weren't such a bitch ass coward they'd show their face now wouldn't they? But they're too scared. And do we litsen to pussies?"

"I-"

"Do not say yes."

"No(?)"

"Atta boy. Now come on. Im fucking tired."

Wade turns to the not so scary, anymore figment of his imagination and is like, "This isn't over asshole. He'll kill you ❤️" Then runs off to bed like, "Can I get big spoon!? "

From there on, Wade will tattle on the thoughts, sometimes swinging at them himself, calling for Logan to beat them up. So far, Logan has broken multiple chairs, a coat rack, and has put about 27 holes in the wall just so Wade can get a good nights sleep. He never actually gets them, but its the distraction and thought that counted.

"Logan.. they're back.." "Show me where."

When your boyfriend is delulu, Violence is the Solulu.

[josephquinnswhore]

Her Sanctuary

Pairing: Joel Miller x female reader.

Summary: you start pulling away from Joel, he’s scared he’s going to lose you.

Word Count: 1.7k

Content Warning: mentions of anxiety, bad mental health. Joel talking about Sarah!!! 😭 soft Joel!!!!! Hurt/comfort.

Note: kinda just wrote this on a whim after rewatching the last of us. I miss joel. @cool-iguana ily.

You were an outspoken person. About everything. There wasn’t a single topic you didn’t have an opinion on. Always a snarky reply, a joke, or following pun. That’s just who you were.

Joel spent months wishing you weren’t like that. That you’d just shut up so he could have a few moments of silence between you. His limited replies included a scowl, raised eyebrow or an annoyed grunt. He spent months travelling across the country with you, refusing to open up and reluctantly teaching you how to shoot his rifle.

He didn’t like how you made him feel. How he had started looking at you romantically. The sound of your laugh stirred something in him. Your bright eyes lightened the darkness in his own.

He never allowed himself to let you in; as much as a fight he put up. You wormed yourself into the cracks in the walls around his heart and started to mend him. He doesn’t know when it happened exactly, all he can remember is wanting to hear more of her laugh, he even found her a joke book in an old RV he scouted one evening at the trailer park they posted in overnight.

He had learned how to accept your brightness, for all its worth. Your dorky comments, crooked grin and boisterous laugh. Even those small touches to his back and arm when you would pass by, excusing yourself. Always followed by a mumbled, “sorry.”

But this.. this he didn’t know what to do. He was tearing himself up inside for not knowing what to do. You were quiet today, something bubbling inside of you that radiated off and in between them in a depressing aura that had Joel feeling breathless.

He even found himself staring at you, from the corner of his eyes, turning his head to watch you, making sure you kept up as you lingered a few steps behind him, completely silent. Not laughing, not crying. Silent.

It was heart wrenching and he couldn’t figure out how to put the pieces together to finish the puzzle. Nothing extreme had happened that they hadn’t faced before. They’d fought off some infected yesterday but—it couldn’t have possibly been that. They were fine. They survived.

Maybe you just wasn’t coping as well as he thought you were.

He tried to think of things to cheer you up, and the guilt consumed him when he realised he didn’t really know much about you. He had never asked. It was always you asking about him, pestering to know more about him. He cursed himself for being so selfish.

The harsh reality of their one sided dynamic hit Joel hard, he had always protected her, with his physical strength and ability to kill. That primal instinct that kept them both alive and for what? He couldn’t help her when she actually needed.

He felt utterly useless.

Until. He had an idea. That stupid fucking joke book that she treasured, had to cheer her up right? It had to draw out one of those loud laughs that made his insides flip, the smile that made your eyes squint that his heart craved to see.

He reached into his pack, pulling it out. She’d stashed it in there, insisting that her pack had no more room. He didn’t argue, he knew she struggled carrying the weight. He decided that day that he could carry the extra burden for things that she decided she couldn’t bare.

This baggage however, was tricker. He would take it if he could. He hoped this would work.

He turns around to look at you and what he saw made him feel like there was a metal vice around his heart, your slumped shoulders and black eye bags complimented a vacant look in your eyes, you were unrecognisable in comparison to your default sunshine personality.

“Hey, I was thinkin’ about that algae-bra joke you told me the other day.” He tried to make his voice as soft as he could when he spoke to you, trying to nudge a reaction.

Nothing, she barely looks at him. “Hm?”

“Anyways, I was thinkin’ we could pass the time with this.” He held the joke book in his hand, swinging his pack back over his shoulder, adjusting his rifle strap as he shuffles on his feet.

You felt a spark of something, something that was quickly put out by the fear and darkness that felt so consuming.

“Maybe later?” You offer quietly, walking past him. “It’ll be dark soon.”

Joel felt defeated. How had he failed so badly. How did he let this fester inside of her like a fucking disease that he didn’t know how to get rid of.

This was an infection in your mind; that he figured on his own. This kind of infection he didn’t know how to cure. He had always pushed his own anxiety and panic attacks down burying them, until he learnt to live with it.

But you; the one fucking good thing in his life that brought him life, hope. He wouldn’t allow you to ignore it, to let it consume you.

He wasn’t going to let you fall victim. He would do whatever it took.

He set up camp in silence, stuck in his head about how the fuck he was going to help you, a feeling of shame overwhelmed him as he sits by the fire, rubbing his hands together as you sit in your sleeping bag, across from him.

Arms wrapped tightly around yourself, legs pulled to your chest. It made you look smaller, the way you held yourself protectively. A reflection of the flames flicking in her eyes only made the mood more somber.

He can’t say something came over him, possessed him to say what he felt bubbling up inside of him. He didn’t want to lose her. To him, you were too important, you disarmed him and weaselled your way into his heart. He wasn’t going to let you leave, not ever.

“When my little girl used to get upset, she always shut me out like this, like what you’re doin’, I always told myself she’ll come around.” He nods to himself, as if reminiscing the memory.

You stay silent, watching him. Watching his expression soften.

“An’ now she’s gone it’s all I regret. Not doin’ more. Not making more of an effort with shit like that. Fuckin’ haunts me.”

Not once in the months they’ve travelled he had mentioned having children, a daughter, let alone a decreased one. He had mumbled a few times in his sleep, incoherently a name. Serine, Sari, Sarah? You could never figure it out, and never pried.

But here he was, sitting across from her looking on with longing eyes and his features the most relaxed she’d ever seen.

“I ain’t makin’ that same mistake again, seein’ you like this, pullin’ away. Feels like I’m failin’ all over again.” His admission shocks you, enough to stun a quiet confession from your own lips before you could think.

“I thought you were going to die.” He seems surprised to hear you talking, but stays silent, wanting you to talk more, wanting to hear more.

“I know we’ve dealt with plenty of infected.. we’ve had some close calls even, sure.” Your heart clenched as you recall.

Joel lying on the ground with that infected on top of him, Joel’s gun inches away as he fumbles, fingertips desperately grasping the hairs of grass as he searched for his weapon.

Holding the infected away with one arm, grunting in a struggle that he was bound to lose. It’s rotten teeth and fleshy stench was so close to grazing Joel’s neck. Inches away from sealing his fate.

You had somehow mustered some courage inside of you to tackle the infected, throwing it off Joel and giving him a split second to reach for his gun and put a bullet in the back of the infected’s head.

Your jeans still stunk, of gunpowder and blood. A stench so vile you couldn’t help but relive the moment, it was on your mind every second, unable to process it all.

You almost lost Joel. Joel almost fucking died. It was a breath away.

“I thought if I just—shut down maybe you’d get tired and ditch me.. worse yet I’d stop caring about you so damn much.” Joel’s ears perked at her soft admission.

“And I know you think I’m just—some annoying fucking girl that you have to protect and feed and I’m sorry..“ Joel wouldn’t allow another word.

“Hey. Look at me, now.” His tone was soft, but held a firmness, there was no doubt he wasn’t asking you. He needed you to look at him.

His face looked so soft beyond the flames of the fire, his expression was tender and kind; as no one had ever seen before. He looked beautiful, fuck, he was handsome. You’d always thought so.

“I know it was a close call, we’ve learnt from it, yeah? We won’t make the same mistake.” You nod, Joel continues.

“Don’t pull away from me sweetheart. Please.”

You open your mouth to say something, but Joel interrupts by patting the space beside him.

“C’mere sweetheart. C’mon.” You don’t waste a moment to plop beside him. He wraps his sleeping bag around you and his big hands grip around your torso to pull you into his.

“Tell me you ain’t goin’ nowhere.”

For the first time since you’ve known Joel. He was the one asking for comfort, reassurance.

“Promise I’m not going anywhere Joel.” You nuzzle into him, his natural musk strung a desire out of her that all she could do was lean into him.

“You get some rest now. I’ll keep ya safe.” He murmurs into her ear, a promise.

All you could do was obey him. Closing your eyes as your body and mind revelled in the intimacy and vulnerability of this moment.

His head rested on top of yours, your hair gets stuck in the rugged coarse hairs of his beard. He finds himself nuzzling into you, allowing himself to get lost in you. After months of fighting you; he lets go. He lets you in.

You were his. And he wasn’t going to let anything fucking hurt you. Not even yourself. He would be your sanctuary. No matter what it took.

[jaggedamethyst]

circuit breaker 🔬🌌 (part three)

tutor!jayce talis x reader college au

content: adding tutoring to an already packed schedule has gotten overwhelming. there's so much to do, yet not enough time, it seems.

pining (but im not saying who lmaooo), mentions of mental health (panic attacks, anxiety, etc).

notes: hiii. i am addicted to writing for this i fear so don't be surprised if i just keep updating randomly. i've also just started school so this is all in my free time!! but chat...its about to get good af *smiles mischievously*

word count: 1.2k

series masterlist

⭑·ﾟﾟ·*:༅。.。༅:*ﾟ:*:✼✿　　✿✼:*ﾟ:༅。.。༅:*·ﾟﾟ·⭑

You didn’t enjoy this, scrambling for the countless time today to make a meeting. Even more so, you hated the idea of being late to see Ekko, again. He was always so empathetic—understanding. Even if he was upset with you, and you knew he was, he would never make you feel bad about it. He understood things happened. 

It didn’t stop you from speeding into the dining hall and turning to your usual table in a complete frenzy, though. “Ekko, I am so sorry. Time literally got away from me today.” 

He grips a chain he’d been holding, a locket at the top, and pushed it back into his pocket quickly. “It has a way of doing that…time I mean.” 

You sat down, immediately feeling way worse than you already had. “I’m sorry…”

“Don’t be, I’m sure you had a reason, right?” 

“Yes,” you sighed. “I was at tutoring with Jayce. We went over vectors and I finally understand it better.” 

His eyes lingered on the table, “Mm.” A hum from him, seemingly half paying attention. 

“Mm?” You mimicked the sound he made, “What’s mm?” 

“It’s just that I definitely could’ve helped you with that…being a STEM major and all…” 

“I know that…of course I know that but-“ 

He cracked a smile, “I’m joking.” 

You couldn’t help the smile on your face, the lightheartedness finally returning to you both. “I hate you, truly.” 

“You don’t…and that’s okay! I’m extremely lovable.” 

You nodded sarcastically, “Sure, I’ll let you keep believing that.” You looked around, finally taking in how desolate the dining hall actually was. It was a bit after peak hours now, considering you showed up a bit later than normal. A yawn escaped you, then, the day catching up to you. 

Ekko perked up a bit, “You hungry?” 

You tilted your head, “Always.” 

He turned to grab a paper bag from inside his backpack—pushing it across the table to you. Your order down to the sauces, no tomatoes, extra pickles. 

“Oh my gosh, I love you so much Ekko…you’re actually the best.” 

He watched you inspect the bag, each little detail perfect. There was a glint in your eye; it was rather humorous that it was about food, but he appreciated it nonetheless. 

You weren’t looking at him, but he was locked in on you. A genuine and soft look was on his face. “I love you…too.” 

The fries you were eating fully occupied your mind and nothing besides the comfort of your bed could get your mind off of them. Ekko didn’t say much after, letting you eat in silence before offering to walk you back to your place. The sounds of the busy city filled the space between you, him occasionally ushering you ahead with a soft nudge. Neither of you spoke until you were outside your door. 

You leaned in for a hug, “Thank you…I’ll see you tomorrow?” 

“Yup.” He hugged you back, leaning his head into yours, inhaling deeply. “Tomorrow.” 

“On time,” You pulled away, “I promise.” 

His hands found his pockets, nodding simply. “On time.” 

Exhaustion was creeping up on you. At this point, you had class most days of the week, Ekko meetings daily, and tutoring at least twice a week. On top of all of this, you desperately needed a job. Even with the hours that passed and the rest you got, the looming feeling of doom was making you feel anxious. There was a bubbling thought in you that in a few days time, you might genuinely have a panic attack. The signs were there, a fleeting feeling of irritation—the need to constantly be doing something. If you didn’t you’d be left alone with your thoughts and that never worked out well. 

The next day's hours squished themselves together. Despite the feeling, you plastered on a smile and made your way to do everything you had to. You couldn’t chance anyone, especially Ekko, knowing that you weren’t feeling the best. Yet, the emotion often found you in silent cries. You took the long way to tutoring, walking on side roads you knew never had many people on them. In one ear, you let music play, sinking into the emotion as best you could with the consistent sounds of the world around you. It was best you cry now, you thought. You had to focus during tutoring. 

You didn’t sob, but rather let the tears run freely. The cool sensation helped usually—a way for you to identify that you were present in the moment…in your body. You let your legs carry you to the resource center eventually, mindlessly walking toward the room Jayce had reserved. Truthfully, you were glad to see he wasn’t here yet. 

You got comfortable, wiping your face free of the proof of your small breakdown. You straightened at the sound of footsteps approaching the door. 

“Hey,” Jayce backed into the room, a small bag in his hands. He slowly turned, closing the door behind him. You weren’t looking his way, purposely avoiding his gaze—hiding your reddened eyes. “Are you okay?” 

“I’m good,” a sniffle, “Just had a hard day…lot on my plate.” 

He nodded, sitting across from you. “Well…I guess it’s good I made sure to bring some encouragement then.” You finally looked at him. His face contorted briefly at the sight of you before handing you the bag he walked in with. “Here…this should help.” 

Confused, you reached for the bag. “But-“ 

“I asked Viktor,” he interrupted, “He said you would like some of these.” 

“You really didn’t have to, I was just joking-“ 

“I wanted to,” he spoke quickly before pausing. He looked at you, swallowing the already lessening amount of moisture in his mouth. He needed some water. “Besides, the store was on the way here.” He cut himself off, gulping some of the water from his bottle. 

You didn’t speak, just looking at your favorite snacks in the bag. The gesture was a lot to take in, but it was appreciated.

“Can I say something?” 

You nodded, “Of course.” 

“I kind of relate to you…what you said about school. I have a scholarship, too.” 

“You do?” 

“Yup. It’s just me and my mom and we can’t really afford it.” He repositioned in his chair, “I worked really hard before this…for years to make sure I could get a full ride. I couldn’t stand the thought of putting that burden on my mom. But, when I got here, it was like the burden was on me now, to not fail…you know?” 

“Right…” 

“I don’t want you to feel…you shouldn’t feel like it’s all impossible.” He didn’t acknowledge the way you started to cry a little—he thought better of it and you thanked him internally. Instead, he reached for a paper towel. “Sorry, this is all we have…with the white boards…” 

“Thank you,” you chuckled a bit. 

“So…are you gonna eat any of those or can I have it back.” 

“I might be willing to share.” 

Jayce rubbed his hands together, “That’s what I like to hear!” 

The session was great, as usual. You were feeling even more comfortable—confident enough to take the next physics quiz. 

More importantly, you made it just in time to see Ekko’s look of surprise when you got there before him. 

“On time?” 

“On time.” 

chapter four

taglist

@juskonutoh @sseleniaa @aerina127 @sleepysoldier @bxxerry

[colourstreakgryffin]

HELLO! If you are taking requests can you do a Dazai Osamu! Reader with Alastor, Lucifer and Husk? Both romantic and platonic please. If you are uncomfy with it its perfectly fine!

Hehe! Okay. I actually haven’t gotten Lucifer or Husk yet and I like both of ‘em! I’ve written about this character before, Dazai Osamu but since it’s different, I’ll try it but i am sorry, I can’t manage over six over six-to-seven headcanons for the three boys in both platonic and romantic so just romantic it is! I hope that’s okay!

Alastor

Romantic

Alastor feels like he has to have you on a leash 24/7 and whilst it’s annoying, he wouldn’t mind being near you all the time. You’re a cunning and sophisticated person but you’re also quite suicidal and lazy at times so he has to have a eye on you all the time to ensure he won’t walk into you trying to make a joke, out of stabbing yourself

Alastor is quite protective. You’re a suicidal maniac and you even openly say to him you want to properly die with him, die with a handsome man and he is repulsed by this idea so he has to always cling you onto him to control your very bad habits and bad mannerisms. He will get you over them eventually, as your boyfriend, he cares about your health and he is thankful that you reciprocate

Alastor is glad when you’re more into your funny, caring state. When you’re more of an approachable and good person. Because then, it’s a golden opportunity to bond with you and not act as your damn suicide prevention police. He much prefers when you’re not fantasising and being picky about how you get erased then fail to complete these processes

Alastor’s quite impressed by your skills. You’re the strongest and youngest mafia leader back in your human life and your current sinner life so you have the passion you act you don’t and you’re more mature then you behave as. He is proud when he can watch you take charge and lead around the Hotel with your own knowledgeable being the main guide

Lucifer Morningstar

Romantic

Lucifer is a goofy sweetheart so you bet your ass that he is very good at keeping you passive and giggling, away from your dark mind. You’re always smiling and joking around with the King of Hell since he can handle you very well. He is as caring but he treats you like you’re made of glass. Something he won’t stop doing until your obsession over suicide dies out

Lucifer likes how mysterious you can be. You’re not entirely open, which he understands whilst being immensely open himself. He will just have to win your trust and your ability to express yourself over time as your new partner. You’re dark and enigmatic, if not the opposite of Lucifer and it’s a wonder why he likes you so much and he could write a book about why he likes you

Lucifer loves how committed and willing you are. You’ll do even the most shady things for him and he always feels both extreme pride and the extreme desire to scoop you up in his mighty six wings to kiss your face off. You’re so loyal and you do so much for him, it’s not a surprise that he sticks to you like he’s glued onto your hip

Lucifer is actually quite protective to you. He doesn’t want you touching even the smallest weapon, even if you’re an adult as well but because of your mental issues and how suicide trigger-happy you are. At least, you do have a good sense of humour and have a fun-loving side through how much you tease people, it’s adorable! Lucifer does like them, it, for some reason, soothes him hearing you play around more genuinely

Husk

Romantic

Husk is a grumpy, quiet but yet patient and considerate man. He may be older but he is still caring and makes a wonderful partner. Especially for this carefree and relaxed soul, one who expresses their suicidal tendencies quite a lot. Husk knows about your suicidal desires and for that, he has such a sharp’s tiger eye on you

Husk(in reality, of these three boys) is the most healthy to date. He is gruff and emotionless on the outside but compassionate and gentle on the inside, he is a Tsundere at best and he doesn’t mind being stern with you when you’re falling down a rabbit hole or trying to harm yourself like it’s some comedy show. You’re life is beautiful and you need to see that

Husk relates to you a lot, on deep levels. You’re both lonely, you’re both lazy, you’re both basically done with everything but you have each other, you both hide your real selves and your genuine personality under a armour of behaviours, so Husk acts as the proper one for you two. He tries to encourage you to join him whenever-wherever and to try put your wits and intellect to good use. He’d feel so proud of you if you did

Husk always sticks around you. He never leaves you alone, he doesn’t want you hurt so he takes you to bed with him, he cuddles you to his side whenever you’re both walking, he even comes into the bathroom with you. He does it for many reasons, mainly because he feels so comfortable with you

[mxqdii]

Hii i love your ADHD and bdp x matt headcanons sm I was wondering if you could do smth with anxiety reader? Like rly rly bad anxiety. I have extremely bad anxiety to the point where it has pulled me into depressive episodes and constant states of overthinking, needing reassurance 24/7 and always feeling alone/unwanted. I would rly rly appricate it sm if you did this it would mean so much to me as someone who struggles greatly. Maybe even mention like taking anxiety pills and stuff like that. (I was gonna do this annonymus but i decided not to incase you or anyone wants to talk💕 my dms are open)

headcannons - m.s x anxiety gf

pairings: matt sturniolo x reader

summary: headcannons

warning(s): anxiety, mentions of medication.

not proofread

first of all, matt would love any gf no matter what, we all also know that he also has his own mental health struggles

i feel like matt would definitely see some similarities in him and you (we all know he's an observer)

and since he observes you so much, he obviously notices the moments you get quiet, the way you cant stay focused, the way big crowds make you uneasy, he sees the signs.

he doesn’t really need to ask, cause he knows, and you know he knows

can easily read your body language, sees you shift in your seat? he knows you're uncomfortable, sees you picking your nails? he knows you're anxious

kind of likes the side of you when its just you and him , selfishly likes that he has you all to himself and that you feel this comfortable around him (and hopefully his brothers, eventually atleast)

when you have trouble sleeping, the night owl he is stays up anyways, playing with your hair until you fall asleep

always keeps rings on his fingers for you to fidget with instead of picking at your skin

if you get into a bad mental episode, he's by your side 24/7, helping however and whenever he can, whether thats driving you places or helping you shower, hes there no matter what.

(if you take meds) he'd watch you take them and be like "oh you take medication?" in the softest curious voice ever

that cues the overthinking and worrying that he'll see you different, but he's already reassuring you before you can get too far into it

reminds you to take your meds if you forget

sets alarms on his phone to remind you and him

a/n: so sorry this took so long!! hope you enjoyed :)

TAGLIST:

@opheliaofficial07 @stargirlv0id @strniolo @annaisabookworm @theperson-nextdoor @its-jennarose @thetriplets3 @gottamakemyhatersmad @luvsturniolo

[jasperxkuromi]

Regressors that are (bodily) older, please interact!

Later 20s, 30s, maybe even older? I would love to hear from you and maybe even your stories if you don't mind sharing!

I want to meet more people like me and also show others that age regression doesn't just suddenly "stop" at a certain age

Some of us:

Didn't discover regressing/didn't understand their involuntary regression until they were older

Wasn't in a safe space mentally and/or physically to be able to regress the way we want to

Didnt "grow out" of regressing. I think a lot of people outside the community assume we will all grow out of wanting to regress at some point. Maybe some of us will, but some of us won't. Regressing can be a safe and healthy coping mechanism, no matter your bodily age!

And probably many other reasons I can't think of at the moment lol

I would love to get to talk to older regressors, or if there are any groups/discords, I would like to know those too :3

I'm gonna talk about my story a little under the cut, but I don't exactly recommend reading it if you are little right now! I am going to be talking about s3xualization of agere and children's media unfortunately.

I started age dreamer/involuntarily regressing when I was in high school without really knowing what it was. I was really into MLP FiM during its height popularity. I watched the show, collected and played with the toys, did coloring books, took my MLP blanket to school ever day. You get the idea.

I discovered regression here in Tumblr, but this was yeeeeaaars ago, like back when nsfw was still allowed. The line between ddlg and agere wasn't as solid as it is now. Or maybe it was just because I was a kid and couldn't understand better? Either way ... i ended up getting wrong ideas of what agere had to be and ended up scaring myself off. I also had adult roleplayers leaving really inappropriate comments on my posts that made me feel icky. I thought agere had to be s3xual and scared myself off.

We also unfortunately probably know the uhhh .. types of fan art that was popular of MLP. And it just ended up making me lose interest in the series. The stuff was everywhere and it was hard to avoid even if you were vigilant.

I never got a real chance to understand what healthy, voluntary regression was. I still was an age dreamer, but most times when I involuntarily regress it is out of extreme stress and it isn't fun or pretty.

I had a lot of bad things that happened to me last year and in turn I am having more health issues. Chronic conditions I already had getting worse, and new ones popping up. My mom (the one who birthed me) has been helping me a bit, but it has still been a lot of playing adult. Making phone calls back and forth, filling out paperwork, figuring out disability leave, paying bills, etc etc. I started age dreaming more and more often to cope with the stress. Like I randomly one day bought a DVD player and sets of Winnie the Pooh and Scooby Doo DVDs lmfao.

I also never stopped collecting stuffed animals and came back to collecting dolls again last year. It helps that I have friends IRL who I don't think are regressors, but still enjoy collecting with me. (my friends don't know yet, but I think they would be accepting if I told them, or they might already assume I regress tbh)

I have kinda had age regression on the back of my mind for several months, but was scared to look back into it. I was scared of going through the same thing I did back in high school. But also denying I am a regressor and that I still need to heal my childhood wounds was getting heavier and heavier on me. I am sooooo thankful I finally felt safe to begin exploring regression again ♥️😁

Side note: while I absolutely don't care if people do ddlg and similar stuff as a kink/fetish, I am thankful that the distinction between that and agere is more distinct now. It is important we protect minors and other vulnerable people from having the same sorts of things that happened to me (or worse) from happening to them.

[pyreo]

I'm comparing the Dungeon Meshi manga to episodes I just watched and now I gotta capital-p Post about this one episode (spoilers past Episode 12)

So this part is an emotional side-step from the central throughline so far - Laios and Marcille got Falin back successfully and reunited, and they got that payoff from the very beginning where they thought it would be impossible. But Chilchuck is very much a part of these layers of development, so after that dragon finally dies, we stop for a second - Laios and Marcille are recovering, Falin has disappeared again - how does Chilchuck feel at that point?

It's the perfect stage to insert that because he didn't really share in that sense of victory in the same way as Laios and Marcille recovering someone extremely close to them. And that's on purpose because he keeps everyone at arms' length. As soon as that arc hits its end and Falin is recovered, there's at last space to ask - why is Chilchuck even here.

He's asking himself that through the chapter. Now that they've lost the person they intended to save, he regrets agreeing to come.

And starts shouldering responsibility for everything ending up this way. We saw that when he got stuck in the mimic room before - he refuses to let himself ask for help, or he'll try to take burdens alone to lessen relying on others. The original Touden Party was six people, and when Laios insisted on going back underground they were two, and he knew they would die, and figured maybe, maybe if they were one more, with his skillset, maybe they'd have a chance. He couldn't let them walk back down just to die.

And he's going back to that mindset - their lives are on me. He thinks he could have prevented this if he'd chosen differently. Essentially, the walk alongside the orc woman is him working through a guilt spiral.

He sees a second chance to correct that mistake of joining the party. He wants them out now, before they die. The orc asks him how they defeated a dragon and, in explaining it, he reminds himself of all the risky, ridiculous things they had to do, and he isn't satisfied with just getting lucky. Laios got his foot bitten off, on purpose! This proves to him that if they go any further they will not survive. And he hints at this dissatisfaction a couple chapters later, wishing his teammates prioritised things other than winning at all costs...

Like, obviously. The point of this chapter is Chilchuck pretending to be a self-serving coward. To the point where others react with disdain, even disgust, towards him because he wants to lie to Marcille and Laios to ensure they turn back. He's desperate to get out of a hopeless situation by any means necessary, and will destroy his standing in the group in a blink if it means nobody else dies. He has to go on a stupid mental health walk for his stupid mental health and talk through his little bout of panic and doubt.

'You called me a coward so don't be surprised when I act accordingly'

He needs someone very blunt to tell him 'dude you're not being a coward for wanting your friends to get out of hell alive. you're a coward for making excuses instead of honestly telling them your concern is genuine' and he BSODs about it. He needs to rant and externalise that frustration over their recklessness at a third party. He needs to scream that they are idiots because he's the only one for which the ends don't justify the means and he can't keep losing his mind over everyone's safety. Down to a point, the orc praises their ability to survive the explosion from the dragon's fuel sac, and it only justifies Chilchuck - Falin didn't even know she could cast the spell that stopped them all being killed, and they cannot continue getting lucky like this.

Anyway. The reason I stopped to think about it was this part-

Where he recovers Laios's monster-infused sword. The thing that made their situation in the dragon fight go from bad to worse, that he swore at Laios for in every language he knew. The most angry we'd seen him. And now he calmly picks it up and praises it for being the only one of them smart enough to make a run for it.

He's projecting, obviously. He's internalising the label of 'coward' and changing himself to fit it. And, look at him, he's so tired of this. It's evidence of his sheer exhaustion that his anger immediately disappears and he actually gives it a compliment. Him and Laios's sword, the group cowards, the only one who agrees with him.

Then, because he had a walk before getting into the argument, he's organised his feelings and drops all the walls and pretense and just says it.

There's a rule of writing where you contrast your high energy sequences with parts that are slow and mundane, to make the difference more apparent. I think that's why I like this bit so much. The fight against the dragon is long, and the emotional stakes are enormous. Right after that we have the bath scene with Falin and Marcille, and Laios ruffling Falin's hair, and this part that pauses everything to explore the stuff that Chilchuck finally needs to say. And it's wrapped in this neat little solemn journey to pick up their supplies and remember how it felt when all five of them had a meal around a real dinner table at last.

And because he doesn't resort to individualistic trickery, because he explains his point as a duty of care rather than pitting himself against the others, he gets backed up. Senshi agrees that they don't have the supplies to continue, and the orc lady mentions her brethren will return later and can give them support, all of which together breaks down Laios's singleminded devotion to his cause.

Personally I think the manga's better suited to comic timing, but in the anime you can get fleshed out little moments, like Laios's face journey as he realises the other three are making a good case for their survival.

This was my favourite part so far, and I like how both Chilchuck-centric episodes have separated him from the others. Because he won't reveal anything he's thinking otherwise. lmao

[guiltycorp]

Damn i really want to know tf happened in the writing room of arcane s2. Some of the downgrades were inevitable due to the show's corporate limitations (not being able to progress the class war story in a meaningful way, having to tie things back to league of legends in terms of making playable characters more appealing to well, play... rip Mel and Viktor in particular), sure. But i still feel like it's even worse than that? There are so many bad decisions that i couldn't even start listing them all... the characters, plot, pacing, themes, it's just such a mess? Even the dialogue writing, it feels much more mm Marvel at its worst i suppose. What i am most bothered by is probably just the straight up harmful messaging so um... Cycles of violence and abuse can be broken by individual decisions to become a better person! Got nothing to do with systemic oppression, living conditions, mental health issues, you can just conveniently ignore aaall the social context, live laugh love and then things get better automatically yep, oppressors famously stop oppressing you when you show them that you're harmless and won't put up a fight anymore. Literally three out of three suicidal characters dying to redeem themselves? Not even in a tragic/cathartic way but in a bittersweet 'they finally atoned for their mistakes' way? Groundbreaking lmao. Romantic relationship between Vi and Caitlyn including no communication about their biggest fight, just conveniently skipping to sex and getting back together - would have loved that if it was framed as the unhealthy fucked up thing that it is, skipping over Vi's hurt and her background to once again become a cop, her girlfriend's direct underling at that (!) due to her not having any other support systems... But nope that was our cute lesbian romance wrapped up, a good thing all around, not concerning at all. Jayce telling Viktor that what he 'always admired about him' was his disability and his deadly disease (??? from a character who spent the whole s1 and first act of s2 desperately trying to help Viktor find a cure? sure) and that those imperfections don't need fixing, just wtf truly. Magic bullshit was also weird, some implications of 'natural magic is ok, but achieving that power through other means corrupts you into a crazy robot bitch or just wilts your trees i guess', but tbh it was written in such a weird and inconsistent way that we can skip this one... Yeah actually a lot of things were just such a mess that I feel silly pointing to specific moments or lines I didn't like, I mean duh, it barely makes sense as a story at all... I am happy we have s1 which comparatively was a masterpiece, and i also really enjoyed s2 act1, i truly believed it would lead somewhere good at the time, my mind still kind of cuts off the story at that point when i think about it, that WAS the open ending of the show to me (is it possible that there were rewrites? targeting act 2 and 3? idk, wishful thinking perhaps). Despite my extremely negative feelings about this season's conclusion i remain glad that so many people appreciate the show regardless, it is clear that there was STILL a lot of love in the process of its creation (although i'd argue that even some of the visual aspects of the show suffered in quality, once again i have to wonder about behind the scenes mood of it all) and i get very upset when i see creatives online despairing over reception of their projects even when i'm absolutely in the disgruntled crowd hahaha... ...however yeah, this wasn't great In a world that increasingly grows more and more right-wing politically... we really needed something different i think.

[ckret2]

I know that making things not only canon-compliant but canon-plausible is basically your hobby, and you tend to enjoy taking every little detail no matter how inane and incorporating it into the greater lore of your work. Have you ever had a moment where you were trying to find a logical explanation for something, realized that it was EXTREMELY STUPID, and now you just avoid writing things that will make it come up?

I think most fan writers have one piece of canon where they're like "Yeah, no, that was a bad decision, I'm just replacing [unbelievable event/racist character portrayal/blatant disregard for how mental health works in reality/etc] with [piece of fanon that makes it work better]."

Usually, even when there's an obvious author mistake, you still have a cool canon-compliant thing to do with it. Curious if there's any exceptions.

yeah, there's a few things.

Evidence implies that Ford fell in the portal in 1983. Evidence implies that the show takes place during 2012, but maaaybe 2013? The show says he fell in the portal "thirty years ago." He was probably intended to fall in the portal in 1982 but that doesn't line up with some of the dates (particularly, song release dates). Also, exactly how long did he know Bill between meeting him and getting portaled? And exactly how long was the paranoia era? My solution: the show takes place in 2012, Ford got portaled in *mumble mumble*, it's been """thirty""" years since he fell in the portal, we're NOT gonna worry about it, and maybe the Eurythmics released their albums a year earlier in the Gravity Falls universe did you ever think of that? Huh?? But at any rate I just try to quietly glide over the little timeline issues without addressing them.

Anything Bill says that would validate a real world conspiracy theory is a lie; but, much more likely, I'm just never gonna talk about it so we can ignore it completely, especially if the conspiracy theory is antisemitic or racist. "A cabal of global elites secretly rules the world and has a really cool break room"? Bill's lying; but also, we're NOT gonna talk about that, just chucking it out the window completely. "Bill helped fake the moon landing"? We can crack jokes about that one but only to establish that Bill was lying. "The Egyptians made the pyramids look like Bill"? We're NOT gonna claim the Egyptians made the PYRAMIDS for Bill, at most they might have redecorated them; but we're probably not gonna talk about them redecorating the pyramids anyway; and we're gonna crack jokes about how stupid Ancient Aliens style idiocy is; and maybe we're just gonna minimize talking about Bill's relationship with Egypt entirely.

(A side note: one thing i REALLY appreciated from TBOB is that it clearly established that they did not build the pyramids for Bill, just temporarily redecorated them; they did not worship Bill, they thought he was a pest; and the book went out of its way to have Bill say anyone who claims aliens helped with the pyramids is a con artist. It didn't have to do that! But it really improved things a LOT.)

Anything not mentioned by Bill that alludes to iffy real world conspiracy theories, we're just not gonna talk about. "America is secretly ruled by someone other than the president and nobody knows," not gonna talk about that, I don't care that it's Santa. "Dapperly-dressed reptilian aliens," not gonna talk about that, I don't care that they were here to go dog sledding. "Mt. Rushmore is secretly a bunch of robots built to defend America from a future threat," NEVER gonna talk about that, Mt. Rushmore is a carving made by a racist on stolen land sacred to several Native American peoples, it does not deserve to be made cool.

and speaking of Santa: I don't care for Jewish characters getting shoved into Christmas stories, especially if they're "wow, it turns out the Christians were right about the existence of this folkloric figure associated with one of their most important holy days" Christmas stories, so there's a high chance I'm just never gonna mention the Krampus plot lmao. If I do, it'll only be because I need to acknowledge the relationship building Ford & Fidds got. (Or to acknowledge Ford's rage at being commanded to conform to holiday expectations, which is REALLY funny and he's completely right.)

Those are the things off the top of my head.

[mxmorbidmidnight]

Its honestly terrifying that I'm the one educating healthcare professionals on my medical condition. When I was hospitalised for my tics I was attended to by psychiatrists and asked questions about whether I was hearing voices and similar such things. To those who don't know Tourettes is a neurological condition, I should have seen neurologist rather than psychologists and psyciatrists. I was put on anti psychotics for months that ruined my mental health and did nothing to improve my tics. The wariness from this situation led to me refusing and hating medications for period of time, making situations far worse.

A psychiatrist diagnosed me with Tourettes. He was not qualified to do that, only a neurologist can diagnose Tourettes. When I went to see a neurologist who we were told specialised in tics Upon arrival, after months and months of waiting we were told:

oh yeah sorry this is too complex for me. I don't really know anything about tourettes.

I've been forced to educate myself because I just cannot trust doctors.

I've been told things from "oh everyone gets that" too you just need to sleep more, eat spinach, you're too stressed about school.

It's scary when the people who hold your life in their hands don't understand the basics of your medical condition.

My situation is better than most. I have been extremely privileged where my family could afford private health and the many treatments, specialists and medication I need to not suffer and be able to live my life. This is how bad it is for me, you can imagine how much worse it is for people who cannot access this healthcare. People who don't have the option to go to the hospital in case of emergency, people who can't afford to switch doctors until they find one that takes them seriously, people who can't afford medications.

[calcifugous]

Things what I have learnt as a baby witch

As a baby witch who has recently became more spiritually connected and grown as a pagan, i want to give out advice what I have learnt over the 2 years of doing witchcraft.

1) Don’t jump straight into the deep end

Never jump into the deep end by doing spell’s straight away, witchcraft isn’t some aesthetic cutesy thing, it can be serious, jumping into spells without having no idea what you are doing can be extremely dangerous.

Ideally, you want to ease yourself into it, by doing research, yes the word research can be daunting but it will help you in the long run. Research on what witchcraft is, get an overall understanding what its about, find out the pagans holidays, pagans new year, and so much more!

If you have no idea where to start I highly recommend buying this book - ‘Wicca For Beginners’ by Frank Bawdoe

The book explains the introduction of the basic Wiccan religion including Wiccan beliefs, a brief history of Wiccan Religion, and their traditions. How to practice Wiccan Religion, the benefits of witchcraft and so much more.

2) Never buy your own tarot deck

this is very important so please take note and to remember! Never! buy your own tarot card decks, in witchcraft, it is extremely bad luck for you to buy your own tarot decks. So always either get a family member or a friend to buy it for you.

3) Connect with your spirit guide and your tarot decks!

Importantly, I personally believe its very useful and helpful to connect with your spirit guide, the more you connect with them, the more you’ll know a lot about them and who they are in general.

You can do this through connecting with your tarot decks first and getting a special bond with them, you do this by

- Keeping the tarot decks on your desk when your studying, or reading a book

- Shuffling through the decks every day, you don’t even need to do a reading or to use them, just shuffle them. This way you’re putting your energy into the cards.

- Place the tarot decks under your bed when sleeping.

- Ask your spirit guide questions, like what are the tarot cards intentions, am i being protected. Things like that.

- Doing Tarot readings

Doing these things will help you bond with your decks and your spirits guides.

4) Never touch someone else’s Tarot decks

I’m highlighting this in red because this is a massive 101 rule in witchcraft is to never touch someone else’s deck unless they have gave you consent and permission. By breaking this rule, you are also disrespecting and breaking the person who owns the deck boundaries. Everyone’s tarot deck is very personal for them, its their personal business and item, they are spiritually connected and bounded with that deck. If you touch it, not only are you putting yourself through harm. But you’re also pissing off the person’s spirit guide and disrespecting them too. So don’t do it.

5) Things don’t have to be expensive!

When people think of witchcraft and hearing about crystals, herbs and books, they think “oh god this is going to be a lot of money” but in reality you don’t have to go out your way to buy really expensive things! I’m from the UK so i buy most of my books from a store called WHSmiths or Work entertainment. Work entertainment is best for spell jars which only cost £1 or a simple crystal shop which sells those £1.50 crystals!

6) Learn how to do protection spells before doing anything!

If you feel like you are ready to do spells but don’t know where to start or what to do, practice doing protection spells, protection spells is pretty self explanatory but it will protect you from any negative energy or spirit

7) What to do if you got a negative spirit/energy

You’ll know when you have a negative energy or spirit around you as your mood and your health will change, if you feel like your mental health has been a bit down for a while and you’re constantly feeling drained and tired. That means something is draining your energy.

So what do you do?

Do an egg cleanse spell! This will help you detect if someone has set a curse, negative spell or if theres negative energy around you.

By doing so, grab a glass cup and fill it up half way with water, adding salt to it is optional but i recommend doing it as salt is really good at protection. Grab an egg, place the egg on your head, with your hand you would want to move the egg counter clock wise around your body, start from the head, and move the egg down to your arms and legs, back round to the other side of your body. Do not let the egg leave the body.

After you’re done crack the egg into the cup and wait 5 minutes, if its all clear then you’re okay! but if the egg whites starts forming like spider cobwebs with bubbles between it, it means someone has set negative energy around you or a curse. If you see a triangle base shape in the cobwebs and a bubble on top. It means you have been hex with the evil eye. If theres also red or brown spots in the yolk it also means a banishing spell or a curse spell.

So you do a return sender, if you got any spices, add a f*ck ton of it in the cup, the more spices the better as that will f*ck whoever sent you the hex up. Grab the cup and pour everything down the toilet, look away while you flush the toilet. Once its flushed look at the bubbles, less the bubbles less of the negative energy. Sometimes you have to do this more than once.

8) Your spirit guides will show you the answers in different ways

One thing I’ve learnt is your spirit guide will show you the answers in different ways, if you want to know if you are protected, there will be signs, for example I personally believe if a a white feather falls in front of you or by you or if you even see a white feather it means you’re being protected by a angel/your spirit guide. So if you see a white feather it means you are protected by them, or if you see your spirit animal or if you know a dead relatives spirit animal and it starts to show up.

Sometimes the signs will be right in front of your face, example for me is: My spirit guide warned me about people being back stabbers and to watch out. After seeing that in a reading, i had my mother who im very spiritually connected with, call me up saying she had a dream about me being stabbed and she feels like it represented me being back stabbed and warned me who i hang out with.

Then my closest friend used my tarot deck which broke my boundaries, pissed off my spirit guide so she started to get headaches, neck pains, back pains and it got to the point she had to leave. When she tried approaching me the day after that, a white feather fell right by me, seconds later, she started to feel unwell and went back inside. I suddenly felt the sense of relief and happiness, and when i said to my self everything is okay, another white feather fell and it landed on my leg. That made me personally feel that it was my spirit guide confirming me and saying yes everything will be okay.

That’s all the advice i can think of at the moment but hopefully this has helps a lot of you small baby witches! just remember, if you ever feel burnt out or you start to do witchcraft but dont have the passion or get into it but still want to, thats okay! it takes time!

9) Know what you are doing when doing spells!! And do it when you are ready!

Another thing, i know i said previously doing research is key! but please know what you are doing when doing spells especially jar spells! Don’t do what I did, I thought I was ready to do spells, I tried doing a protection spell and I ended up summoning a trickster spirit who is still attached to me and can be a little pissbaby sometimes by moving my things around. But overall he also does protect me when need be so he can be good when he wants to be.

Also if you’d like to know what books I have, i have these! (the pictures below) these have helped me over the past 2 years with my journey so I highly recommend checking them out!

Good luck and i wish you all positive energy!

[notnights]

Big ol thing I wrote about Ragatha because I feel I don't do enough with her despite all the thoughts I have with her:

Ragatha might say reassuring things but they’re a means to an end that even Pomni didn't take genuinely and wasn’t comfortable with. As evident from her dream. And up until she saw Ragatha mourning the loss of a person (which is not even a high bar to reach) she wasn’t comfortable with her.

Things that really interest me about Ragatha's character:

1). She does not comfort Gangle when her mask breaks in the pilot. (NO one does, but that’s another discussion), nor give her reassurance or any response, when Gangle replies “no” to not being okay. (though this is probably just a joke)

2).The first thing Ragatha says to Pomni is “Lets just try and calm down… you just need to get your head together-“ And when Pomni continues to freak out she becomes nervous and doesn’t get involved until Pomni asks another question.

3). The most she'll do against Jax's behavior is bark at him like a bad cat.

4). "I don't think she likes me very much."

Interest 1). At best this means Ragatha believes Gangle’s tragedy mask is a “boy who cried wolf” scenario and Ragatha knows she can’t change how Gangle feels in this state and knows Gangle is “okay” for the most part. Because this happens Every. Single. Day. There’s only so much you can do to comfort someone like that. And Every. Single. Day. Gangle turns out “okay.”

And at worst she is purposely ignoring Gangle because Gangle makes Ragatha extremely uncomfortable. Here Ragatha is trying her best to keep it together meanwhile Gangle is sobbing and miserable right next to her “not even trying” “not even hiding it.”

If Ragatha tries telling Pomni “hey it’s okay here, really, I promise!” And GANGLE is in the background crying do you have any idea how that looks? How that makes the rest of us feel? How discouraging that must look to the newbie!? <-This was stuff told to me as an inpatient at a psych ward. "Don’t express your negativity around the other patients it discourages them," I would be forced into isolation because I cried non-stop. Not because the behavior itself was bad and worthy of punishment but because they thought my state could negatively impact the other patients and wanted to keep me out of sight out of mind for those other patients. (And YES this was wasn't right. I’ve been told by multiple mental health professionals, including doctors and staff at a different psyche ward this was the WRONG thing for them to do. Even if the means were to "protect the morale other patients."

Ragatha might have this same conclusion. If not for the others, for herself. She stresses to keep it together as it is. If trying to comfort someone like Gangle makes her MORE stressed, she has a right to not be involved with her but that's incredibly difficult when you are in such a small community in close quarters. There's only 6 of them they're all each other has. Raga can't just hang out in other places, around other people. Neither can Gangle. They're forced to be by each other. If Gangle and Raga both resent each other for this it makes sense.

Interest 2). Telling someone to just "get your head together" is a common but incorrect reaction to someone panicked. Sure if you know someone well enough to know how they would react to it, it could work. And Ragatha is just doing what she knows, maybe even what works for her, but Pomni is a complete stranger to her. Most people wouldn't know what to do in this situation (comforting a stranger on the worst day of her life) so you can't blame her for that reaction. Raga was just doing her best and thought she was helping but its probably one of the factors that made Pomni think otherwise (dream sequence).

Then compare it to Pomni's treatment of Gummigoo. While a different emotional circumstance, Gummigoo was still a complete stranger to Pomni. She lets Gummigoo sit on it for a bit, probably not intentionally but when she sees Gummigoo isn't getting any better she finally asks if he's ok. He says no she sits with him and lets him talk about it.

Contrast to Pomni asking why they don't try to leave, and Raga starts to explain only to near panic herself, then completely dismisses any of it, reassures herself even, reminding herself and telling Pomni that they need adventures in a way. They're good! Adventures are good! They help distract from the bad thoughts. Don't worry about the bad thoughts Pomni, we have adventures, here check out Kaufmo!

After she tries to tell Pomni to "calm down," and it doesn't work she stands their nervously not getting involved. She cannot comfort her in a way she understands. If Gangle is someone she gave up on, Ragatha has a limit of what she'll do for comfort. This probably speaks to her defusing a situation by taking the path of least resistance. Rather than doing what might be right in said situation.

This isn't to say Pomni vs Ragatha's comfort method is better or worse, I more mean Pomni probably expects a different kind of comfort method, which Ragatha didn't do and in turn gave Pomni that stuck-up impression of Raga in her dream.

Interest 3). Ragatha doesn't fight back against Jax very hard. Her reactions are almost funny. And Jax thinks they're funny. Like an older sibling being angry at a younger for doing something bad but also "they don't know any better yet." Normal for older kids and adults to react to a younger, and while Ragatha probably sees Jax as a kid (I'm nearing 30 myself and most 22 year olds feel so "baby" to me now despite only being 8 years older than them. Just kind of comes with aging as an adult, I'm sure I'll think the same about 30 yos when I'm 40), Jax is old enough to know better, or at least starting to know better and improve. But he's stuck in this place with no consequences. Ragatha can scold him all she wants, he could get hurt and punished, but pain is only temporary, isolation can only work for so long before it starts being cruel. You can't send him to bed without dinner, he doesn't need sleep, he doesn't need to eat. He can't even have his life threatened. There is NOTHING she could do to discourage Jax from doing bad behavior.

So like the potential of giving up on comforting Gangle, she has given up trying to scold Jax. Like Gangle always ending up "OKAY," Jax's behavior always ends up "OKAY." Sure he potentially had a hand in killing a whole kingdom but those aren't even real people, it's okay! Sure he maybe threw you out of a moving truck, but look it didn't really hurt! Sure maybe he hit Kinger with a bowling ball but look he's fine! Everything is "okay!" at the end of the day, with or without Jax's violence!

Interest 4). "I don't think she really likes me."

Instead of making Pomni feel welcomed and safe, Pomni thought Ragatha was condescending, patronizing, her strongest and simplest expression of this was "I'm not a child." Raga's fear of her not being liked is either because she is some what aware her behavior can be seen as condescending, or annoying but can't help it, its the only method she knows how to function.

OR thinks Pomni not liking her is the reason her method isn't working. "I just hope she's not having another horrible experience." She does not trust Pomni on her own, but who can blame her when she knows the bad first day Pomni had. But can be seen from Pomni's view as "let me help you! you can't do this on your own! I know you can't do this on your own!"

"She still seems really upset about what happened yesterday" makes me think Ragatha thinks Pomni abandoned her for a reason, and is maybe in a bad mood today, not wanting her help for that same reason. Ragatha thinking its her fault Pomni is having bad experiences because she isn't trying hard enough to get through this tough time.

Ragatha wants to speedrun pomni through the "hard part"get to the distraction part that helps her so much. Instead of letting her go through the phases herself, then helping when she's ready. (again compare this to Pomni's help to Gummigoo)

Kinger also does not directly reassure Ragatha with a "no, im sure she likes you!" or anything like that. Instead his reassurance comes from reminding her, Pomni is in the Hard Part, right now. Reminds Raga she too was once in the Hard Part, and it took HER awhile as well. "Don't take it too personally," reassuring her even if Pomni doesn't like her, that's ok, its not her fault, at least not her fault alone. And things can change in the future because Pomni is adjusting. Kinger both reassures Ragatha it's not her fault Pomni's having such a bad time, and tells Ragatha they should have faith in Pomni figuring things out no matter how long it might take.

Unfortunately I don't know how much of that Raga soaked in due to being distracted with Kinger remembering her going through that. Her tone when Pomni says she made a friend, makes me feel she did retain some of it. She's relieved Pomni handled things on her own alright, so might ease up on her hovering. But who knows, we won't know till the next episode if she had that development of letting Pomni figure some things out on her own.

[jaggedamethyst]

…look for the light

joel miller x f!reader | 2.7k

pairing: joel miller (tlou) x fem reader

content: you're tired of hearing that old slogan from the fireflies...but maybe you should give it a chance.

notes: 18+ minors dni, eventual smut for the girlies (smfh + side eye) also unprotected in the heat of the moment unfortunately…dont be like them! angst because it's my specialty, mental health depictions (illusions to death, depression, etc. do not read if that's a serious trigger) this takes place in the time jump between tlou 1 and tlou 2…tons of existential crisis otw, grief, everything unfortunately…and i still don’t believe in proofreading

also this is the longest i've written so far...of course it involves joel too...hashtag need that.

 ࿐ ࿔*:·ﾟ🍂🌿༄。°          ° 。༄🌿🍂·ﾟ*࿔ ࿐

You hadn’t arrived in Jackson on your own. At the time, you were one of a family of four. As time passed, the number dwindled along with your will to live. Back when everything was normal--or as normal as it could’ve been in a world that corrupt, you saw a therapist. You knew it was in their career description to listen. It helped sometimes, others it didn’t. Overall, though, you’d say they’d done a shit job if at the first sign of loss, you wanted to cease to exist. 

When you weren’t overthinking, you found yourself on patrol. It became ironic that you rejoiced at the sight of a fresh dead body. Knowing that the person before you had made a mistake you could now avoid lit a small fire in you. The flame didn’t last long though, quickly blown out every day with a speed just as fast as its ignition. 

To be candid, there was this guy. Well, this man. You couldn’t do him the injustice of calling him anything but a man. You saw him often--sometimes to himself, others with this girl. No matter the circumstance, though, he rarely spoke. You liked that. Something about people who acknowledged their capability to not speak made you extremely happy. Silence is a valid option. 

As an observer, you learned his name was Joel, the girl Ellie. They’d arrived about the same time as you, which explained the lack of interaction. This was, of course, aside from glances, the fake half-ass smiles you exchanged, and your time on patrol together. 

Unfortunately, he was the worst. It absolutely burned you up. That, and the fact that even when he annoyed you, you wanted to have extremely private time with him. 

The first time you actually spoke, he’d found you by a stream. You didn’t know he was showing the girl, Ellie, something that day. But as you lay with your eyes closed, taking in the sunlight--a shadow cascaded over you. 

You opened one eye to see who’d stepped in the way. Before you could get a word out, he spoke, “You from Jackson?”

“Who’s asking?” You created a sort of visor over your eyes with your hand. 

He huffed, “someone from Jackson.” 

Resuming your position on the ground, you spoke, “You some sort of Jackson cop? You seem like the cop type.” 

He scoffed. You realized he did that a lot, not speaking, making annoyed sounds. Not answering questions directly. 

“You should get back.” 

With a quirked brow, you replied, “I’m good, thanks.” 

“Wasn’t really a question.”

“Didn’t say it was.” 

By this point you’d opened your eyes again, surveying the man. You kind of felt bad for being snippy but honestly, he interrupted your “alone with my thoughts” time. Some people can cope without thinking of the same incidents in a constant loop. Not you--you liked the hurt. It reminded you to be safe. To not trust people. 

Even in that position, though, you observed the man. He looked rough, but in a way that motioned toward experience. There were hints of gray in his hair, yet he didn’t look old. His shirt was slightly opened, tattered. The sheen of sweat covering him made him all the more alluring in the sunlight. 

“Are you gonna get the hell up and get a move on or what?” 

You didn’t know him at the time, or that he was trying to surprise Ellie on her birthday. Even worse, that on this day, he’d thought of his daughter. He was coping. Anyone or anything out of place was shattering the amazing plan he had made to go a day without feeling like a disappointment. 

He didn’t know that your “alone with my thoughts” time often consisted of thinking of your family. You’d willed yourself to shut your eyes tight, picturing those you lost; it was the only time you could see them. If you got lucky, you could dream of them. If you were unlucky, you’d see images of their mangled bodies. 

It seemed that even awake, your luck was the fucking worst. 

With swift and silent movements, you stood and turned to leave. Avoiding eye contact was the only way to hide the tears prickling in your eyes. 

“Dude,” a young voice called out, “you hurt her feelings!”

“Fuck, I didn’t mean to, Ellie!” 

Like you said, he was the worst. But you definitely took it to the next level at every opportunity. 

That’s how you found yourself on patrol with Joel giving him the silent treatment. It was customary at this point. If you two went alone, he would bark out orders, you’d follow if you felt like it. If someone else happened to be there, you two would rely on an unspoken rule to only speak to them and not one another. It worked…until today. 

Entrapment wasn’t a new feeling for you. Often on patrol specifically, you would have to maneuver your way out of dangerous positions to return. But the realization of there being nobody to return to hit you today. So even when Joel and Jesse said to stay back, you proceeded. It was a miracle none of you three were bitten or worse. Your reckless act left the trek back to Jackson completely silent. 

When you reached the gate safely, Jesse spoke first. It was obvious he was shaken up but even more annoyed with you. “Kinda fucked up you did that. Did you even consider that you would put me and Joel in danger?” 

“Nobody told you to follow me, to be honest.” 

“I don’t give a fuck! When we leave, we work together… or we don’t go.” 

Joel shook his head silently, observing the way Jesse continued to rip into you. You continued the back and forth until Jesse hit extremely low. 

“Look, I know you lost people…I remember them-”

You spoke over him, a finger out in warning, “Don’t-” 

“And just because you feel like there is no worth left in your sorry ass life, doesn’t mean I wanna die right now. Not for you. Not on a stupid patrol mission.” 

It felt like he punched you. Square in the face. The way your breath left you was unlike anything you’d ever experienced. Not since the day you realized your entire family was gone. As a result of that day, you grew accustomed to silent walks back to your house. You got used to the sounds your house made between the silence. 

You didn’t hear Joel’s faint footsteps and persistent calls to you as he followed behind. It wasn’t until the unusual sound of your door not immediately closing behind you that you turned around to see him there. 

“You didn’t even stop him, you just stood there like you always do!”

His signature sigh and no response. Just a sort of expectant look on his face. 

“Get. Out. Please.” 

You begged him to leave, your voice breaking. It was somewhere in the midst of you slowly falling toward the floor that he reached you. He knew what you were experiencing right now. The dull panging in your body, a faint scream at you, and a feeling that of anyone it should’ve been you to go, not your family. 

He didn’t want to admit that he recognized the bubble of sadness around you, as he’d be forced to acknowledge his own. The least he could do was to comfort you in a way he had yearned for when he lost Sarah. When he lost Tess. When he thought Tommy was gone. But he failed, as he always did, crying with you. 

He urged you to quiet your sobs, “It’s okay, shhh.” 

His attempts at soothing you were a sort of reassurance to himself--that it was okay. It could be okay. He eventually grasped your face, too, forcing you to look at him. He wanted you to believe him, despite the lack of conviction in his voice. The eye contact shocked you both. You had never seen the man cry let alone been this close to him. From a distance, it's easy to think that any dark-colored eye is just black but his…

“Brown…” You mumbled incoherently. 

“What?”

“Your eyes. I’ve never really looked at ‘em.” 

He was confused, “yeah, brown.” 

“It's just that, it's easy to overlook things…” when you’re so stuck in the past, you wanted to say. But you left it. You had a feeling he understood. 

It was hard to not lean into his touch, even harder to not want to be near him. He noticed you staring, but there was still so much left unsaid. Thinking about it, he never really allowed himself to carry out a conversation with you. But there was an unspoken attraction between you. It was easy to minimize said attraction to one where you needed each other. It was suffice to say that it was more tantamount to the way particles were reliant on one another. Even more, the way symbiosis occurred. Despite the urge to push one another away, you knew that you did, in fact, need each other. 

If not for a long time, at least for now. 

Without a word, you pushed up a bit, meeting your lips with his. He was obviously taken aback; there was so much behind the kiss…but he couldn’t bring himself to care. 

You pulled at his shirt, that damned shirt he always liked to wear. Always opened slightly, but never enough to give you what you needed.

“Can I?” You broke the kiss and motioned toward the buttons, breaking eye contact for a second. 

Joel let out a characteristic sound, affirming you, “Mhm, yeah…” 

You moved your hands lower, stopping at the close of his top. “Are you sure?” 

The man understood you. The shirt acted as a sort of metaphorical barrier between the two of you. As much as it scared the both of you to cross that line, there was an unspoken respect for one another. 

He noticed your apprehension, bearing the task of taking down that wall for you both. 

Joel unbuttoned his shirt, slowly, intentional in his action. 

He watched you shiver, “I haven’t…I want…I mean-” 

That same alluring stare maintained its gaze at you, Joel allowing you the time to process and say what you wanted to. 

“I want to feel…be close to you. Not because I want to use you or something…I just,” You searched for words that seemed to escape you. 

His words interrupted your thought process, a gentle but calloused hand returning to your face. 

“You don’t have to have a reason. Use me.” 

That was enough to make you attack him full force. You’d thought of each other so long that there was an urgency. There wasn’t time for niceties or the pleasantries of preparing yourself for him. You just wanted each other immediately. 

The trail of clothing that led to your room was something out of one of those old movies you watched. Before everything went to shit. You allowed yourself a smirk at the thought--Joel hot on your trail. 

Joel observed how clean your place was. He was one to keep tidy, too. Not for the thought of expecting someone, but for lack of people except him. There were few things he held near and dear, so a large space like his home was often unused save for his bed and couch. It seemed you echoed this thought, and that made him even more eager. Knowing you had so much in common made him insatiable.

You found yourselves kissing again, seeking comfort in each other. It was sweet and slow. You couldn’t handle it, the lack of him. 

“Joel, please,” you backed towards the bed. Now fully available for him. With you demanding everything be so structured to protect yourself these days, you were willing to let go for once. 

He didn’t say anything, he never did. But the way he hovered over you, maintained eye contact and pushed into you said enough. 

His pace was somewhere between painfully slow and slower. He felt your wetness, the way you were ready for him already, and it made him harder. He knew he wouldn’t last long if he went any faster. 

You reached up, pushing the hair out of his face. It was a distraction from how good it felt, even the purposely slow pressure, but you wanted more. 

You bucked up into him. He hissed and grunted in your ear, that’s new. 

The southern drawl was even more apparent on the man. “Shit. I’m tryin’ to…make it last,” his head met your shoulder, breath against your skin. “Cant.” 

“Don’t.” 

You couldn’t see his face, but you figured a look of surprise flashed there. It only took a second for him to pick up the pace. Those grunts filled the room; his wordless communication was now music to your ears. 

You continued that way for not much longer--but the high was unlike any other. He reached down to rub between you, making sure you’d finish. The thought of him caring about you in that way and the pointed pressure of his strong hands doing so was enough to make your body pulse against him. 

He pushed you back down, keeping you still, “Don’t move, baby.” 

It was a lot. 

His movements became even more erratic, but it felt so damn good. 

“Where should I?” 

You arched a brow, “You want a little Joel running around here somewhere?” 

He chuckled, so sweetly, too. Fuck. 

“Wow, even full like this you still got a mouth on ya. I’m gonna work on that.” 

He pulled out suddenly, and before you could even complain, latched his mouth onto you until he finished and your voice went dry from calling out his name. 

Okay…

The usual urge to freshen up never came. The smell of Joel was all over you, and you liked it that way. You breathed in and out, processing what happened, fighting to stay awake. The sound of the man’s snores was enough to keep you awake in itself. 

It wasn’t until you heard the snores stop and Joel stirring that you spoke again.

“I’m sorry.” 

Joel turned his head toward you, clearly still half asleep, “For?” 

“For that day, in the woods, when we first met. I was mean.” 

“I understand. A random guy shows up asking questions. You get defensive. It happens to the best of ‘em.” 

There was silence. One long enough that Joel sat up to get out of bed--you stopped him when you spoke. 

“I was thinking of my family,” a pause, and with it, your eyes burned a bit. “I don’t know why I act the way I do. I don’t know why I’m… harsh. Part of me thinks it's because they are always looking at who I have become and are so disappointed. The other part of me thinks that they don’t see me at all…or that they can’t…that there’s nothing more after this. I dunno which feels worse but I know it drives me fucking crazy.” 

He silently reached for your hand, deliberate in his response. “I like to think that the big moments we share with the people we lose are more important than anything after.” He nodded, assuring himself before continuing. “Good or bad, their memory only survives as long as we are thinking of them.” He paused to look toward his wrist, almost out of muscle memory. “Our families may not be here, but even mentioning them proves that they were real. I know my baby girl was real, I can’t fail her by going on like she wasn’t.” He inched closer to you, “If it takes me being sad to know that there was someone I loved here before, I’ll stomach it any day.” 

You nodded slightly. 

“Thanks.” 

A hum resonated from him, and he made his way out of your house. He was elusive as always, and definitely just as attractive..if not more so now. But his words stuck with you. 

That stupid catchphrase from the Fireflies…you’d heard it often. The aftershocks of the group persisted even after they’d slowly dwindled in numbers. When you’re lost in the darkness…

Wiping your eyes, you pulled the covers back a bit more. A lot of time had passed, but for the first time in a while, you didn’t feel like it was ripped from you. 

After a few minutes, the Sun started to rise, heat emanating from your window. You felt the warmth slowly reach your face--closing your eyes. 

For once, you’d look forward to sleep, and even more, the possibility of dreaming.

[hoseoksluna]

YOU'RE NOT DIRTY | myg

pairing: ex boyfriend!yoongi x f. reader

genre: fluff

word count: 2.4k

summary: he, who has always been able to untangle the ropes of chaos that is your mental health, helps you when you need to not be alone for once.

warnings: demonization of sex, anxiety, fear, crying & all kinds of iffy feelings about sex, yoongi being perfect

note: this was purely written as a way to heal and cope with the fact i felt extremely dirty after writing my last smut fic 'story'. if you've been following me and reading the little updates i post, you already know this. while this fic is loosely based on 'story', it's not necessary that you read it if you haven't, although namjoon is mentioned. i'd spent over a week writing this and every day had been a step closer to feeling better and it's all thanks to yoongi. he's always been the person who helped me with my mental health, especially when d-day came out. it had to be him. he's linked to this part of me forever. enjoy reading guys &lt;3

“You’re not dirty.”

Those words should comfort you. Those words should rip away those sleazy fingers of the ghost that touches you—the ghost of shame, who mocks the touches of the lover you were with barely an hour ago. But those words do anything but. 

The man, who uttered them, studies your ashen face. He doesn’t see the demon’s large body on top of yours, constricting your airflow. Nobody ever does.

He doesn’t see the way the ghost scrapes the surface of your skin with its long claws; how its flimsy, wet and tattered cape deepens the wound with its rough fabric as bile rises in your throat. How could anyone?

It hurts.

It hurts to the point that you think your sexuality is that demon. That anytime a person of the opposite sex would touch you from now on, he would somehow beckon that hostile creature to come and collect you, slimy hands grasping yours and pulling you in—the touch so deathly that the sordidness would seep into your skin and make a bed in you. Then, the torture would begin all over again.

Shortness of breath. The feeling of your body being dirty and heavy. The distaste towards sex and men that follows after. The despair; the loss of hope that life could be possibly normal for you sometime in the future.

Despite it being such a hefty feeling, only a small part of you regards as true that this is someone else’s fault. It’s devastatingly pathetic.

The majority of your being believes that the foulness is yours. That you’re the one to blame. You believe that it’s your decision and your repulsive actions that stain you. And if that wasn’t enough, the certain question of why links arms with that belief, troubles you along the way, and it becomes much, much worse.

Why does filling a dose of hormones that you lack, that you need for your well-being leave you feeling like you did something very bad?

And, also, another one.

Why does enjoying yourself with another person—becoming close with them in a way that is tempestuous, dizzying and beautiful in such a simple sense, in a way that makes life truly worth living—why does it leave you with those burdening thoughts, soiled body and even grimier conscience? 

Those questions fill you up with dark clouds with no stars, dense and thick ones that weigh your body down. You walk through your daily life with trembling legs. And it’s all forced. You’d rather not feel that way, but it comes over you, swallowing you whole, and you have no strength to fight back. It’s all very frustrating. There’s nothing you can do.

The man’s words should take the edge off this discomfort, the lull and the softness of his tone—the maturity, complexity and dependability of his persona the very warmth that coats his voice—like a damp towel to all your gashes and sores. Help you in some way that you’re unable to help yourself. Perhaps lift the body off of you like Atlas held the world above his head. But they don’t.

And it’s Yoongi. The man you love, even if the state of your relationship is chastely friendly at the moment.

It’s Yoongi, who picked you up in the rain pouring down on you woefully, perfuming your hair with the sweetest, most heady scent of the forest. Yoongi, who gave you his clothes—boxers that fit you comfortably, even if they are a little loose in certain areas, gray sweatpants that decorate the ivory waistband of the Calvins, an old shirt, quite an expensive one, warm and cozy from the dryer. 

Yoongi, who let a velvety blanket fall on your shivering figure once you’ve showered, dressed, and rested comfortably on his couch, placing a light pink bowl filled with cheese puffs on your lap, knowing how much you love the color and the snack, too. Yoongi, who typed the title of your favorite Korean drama into the Netflix search bar, thumb clicking on the up, down, left and right buttons on the remote control, even though he hates doing so and prefers the voice search. Yoongi, who opted for muted leniency to waft through the room, turning off the big lights, sound low, fingers having finished typing the title: ‘It’s Okay Not To Be Okay’.

It should do something. But it doesn’t.

You’re incapable of looking him in the eyes. You just numbly gaze down at the orange tastiness, plopping another one into your mouth, swallowing down the bile. You dissociate, eyes defocusing, the pressure to respond to him a distant siren alarm at the back of your mind. 

A solid, peculiar peace steps over the threshold of your mind to check if it’s welcome before it takes a step back and walks the other way, the stench of the mold of your feelings pushing it away. 

Must have been his. 

He’s careful before he says what he wants to say in its entirety.

Yoongi takes his hands off of your forearms. The glint of his silver watch pulls you out of your detachment. Guilt pricks you at the nape of your neck over the fact that he’s trying and you’re too numb to receive it from him. You will your body to be normal, but it stays the way it is.

You had told him briefly in the car, amidst the onrush of your liquid emotions, that you felt that way. Dirty, soiled, ashamed of your perverseness. He didn’t comment on it, driving in silence. He knew that if he spoke too soon, you wouldn’t hear him—choosing to place your palm on the stick shift instead, holding your hand like that.

It struck you with the notion that you spoke too much. Did too much. That you should’ve just stayed quiet, stayed without feeling until he killed the engine at your apartment, until the door softly clicked behind you. You didn’t hear the language of his hand, all the words that gesture said. Instead, you listened to the false words in your brain.

You’re bothering him. He doesn’t care. He thinks you’re annoying. You should’ve called an Uber or you shouldn’t have come at all. You should’ve been home, depriving yourself of life, of excitement, of love and pleasure. 

But Yoongi didn’t drive you home—he didn’t drive down the familiar path to your apartment. And Yoongi didn’t speak because he knows you better than you know yourself. 

He wanted you to pour out the rain of your clouds before his words could tear them apart with sunlight. It wasn’t his intention to make you suffer more than you already did. 

You didn’t know this, though.

“Did you hear what I said?” the grim man asks, the grave acrimony to his voice alerting you and you feel so bad. So, so very bad.

A silky waterfall of his ebony hair brushes the tops of his cheekbones. You notice how the similarly colored hood of his sweatshirt envelops his neck in warmth, merging the hues into one color within the dimness of the living room. Looking down at your crisscrossed legs, mimicking his, you unfurl the blanket over his thighs. It pulls you into one unity with him, his steadfastness reaching for you.

“I did, Yoongi,” you say, wanting to be honest within the environment you find yourself in. “I just don’t know what to say.”

“Did he make you feel that way?” Yoongi folds his arms over his chest. Leans over the backrest. Suddenly you’re aware of the distance between the two of you. Glad that the blanket is big enough. “Dirty?”

It’s a question that hurts because you wish you could change your answer.

“I wish he did.” Your voice wobbles. Somehow his calm demeanor cracks yours, pushing the voices aside. “It would’ve been easier.”

If Namjoon were the one who hauled the words at you instead of your brain—if it were his touches that dug a hole in your heart instead of the ghost—you wouldn’t be sniffling your nose, willing your tears to go back where they came from. It’s all you and the broken interior of your body. Namjoon treated you perfectly, having invited you over to his residence near the woods. He didn’t make love to you, but he did play with you, coaxing moans out of you that echoed through his mansion. You enjoyed yourself, even though you enjoyed pleasuring him a little more.

Perhaps, that’s the biggest problem of it all.

“What do you mean by that?”

“It would’ve been easier ‘cause I would’ve blamed him.” You sigh, averting your gaze, plucking out fluff from the blanket on your knee. 

Yoongi runs his fingers through his hair to sweep it away from his eyes. His leisure position sinks him deeper into the dimness as he lowers his body into the cushions, arms back on his chest. 

“There’s no one to blame, though,” he says simply, biting his lower lip. 

You don’t know what to say. Busying yourself, you take a sip of the can of Sprite Yoongi got for you, aware of the strange emptiness within the walls of your mind. There’s always some kind of noise, some kind of accusation towards you. You’ve become used to it, learned to live with it. It’s a strange newness, this silence. You don’t know what to do with it. 

“You did nothing wrong,” he continues, voice so warm and so deep, despite its monotonicity. 

You merely shrug your shoulders. 

Yoongi reaches forward and places a hand on your left shoulder. As if to stop your stubbornness from overwhelming your body. You feel the heat of his palm and your mouth rounds in a pout. There’s energy in it—some kind of energy that mends you. His words are tall pillars that you slowly make your way over to, leaning against their coolness. Lukewarmness. 

You discover that it feels better. The heat of his touch, the coolness of his solemnity. It creates a temperature that your body responds to, walks away from the hostile creature. 

Before he had spoken, Yoongi touched you. Placed his palms in the crooks of your arms. But it didn’t affect you—and it’s because he hadn’t spoken. Now that he has, it whirs with some kind of spark in you that speaks the language of your body. 

“Do you understand what I’m saying?” Yoongi asks, lowering his head, eyes up, so he can look more deeply into yours. Perhaps read an answer. Any reaction that would tell him that he can move forward. 

You remain quiet, but you reciprocate the eye contact. And you do it for a reason. Now that your mind is empty, you desire for him to fill it. 

You shake your head.

Yoongi cups the side of your neck. Brushes your hair away from your face with his other hand. Inches closer. Pecks you gently on the forehead. 

The gesture squeezes the clouds in you and rain pours out. It trickles out of your tear ducts, down your pallid cheeks. Yoongi leans against your temple. Doesn’t let himself see those raindrops, but he knows they’re there. 

“You did nothing wrong by enjoying sex and you’re not dirty because you had it. It doesn’t stain you. Do you know what it does instead, though?” He whispers, keeping his voice low just for you; waits for your response. 

You shake your head ‘no’ once more, your shoulders relaxing now that you’re being held, now that you’re being spoken to, filled, made new. 

“It paints you golden. Glittery. And all colors of the rainbow are in that glitter. It’s all over you and it’s in you. And do you know the reason?” 

This time he doesn’t wait. Your tears soak the thick fabric of his sweatshirt and a rosy flush floods your cheeks in their place. You sob, and the sound is muffled.

“It’s because you had a good time. Good experiences paint you in all kinds of different ways. You just have to open your eyes to see them. All those colors.  Wait a bit before you can try ‘em all out. It takes time, doesn’t it?” 

You nod, and you do it so many times that your head spins, whimpering at the sudden lightness that your body welcomes. Yoongi hugs you, enclasps you in his arms. The blanket falls to the ground and it’s his body that keeps you warm, the ghost shoved away. You continue to cry until not one cloud fits in your ribcage, Yoongi’s words being the bodies that settle there, cleaning up the disorder they left there. Bodies speckled with the same glitter he talked about, myriads of silver, violet and blue flakes spelling the abbreviation of his name: MYG. 

I have glitter inside of myself.

You repeat it to yourself as your lungs calm down, regular breaths soothing your fragile form still held by Yoongi. He caresses the back of your head, fingers smoothing down your hair, making sure it cascades down your back in one singular stream. 

Lifting your head like a toddler on its belly, you do the same for Yoongi. You brush his hair away from his face, thumb stopping to caress at his cheek. Yoongi puckers his lips at you, hauls you a bit further upwards on his body. Mimics you again, fondling your cheek blooming with a new color. 

“No matter what you do with whoever you choose, you’ll always be a good girl,” he murmurs, the pad of his thumbs flicking away the last teardrops under your eyes, swiping tenderly across the intricate fan of your wet eyelashes. 

You believe him, so you nod, chin quivering with another onrush of emotions but nothing comes out. You don’t say it, but you have a confidence in the notion that your body will be eternally his. 

And you ponder it in your brain, softly, as Yoongi leans over and sets a tangerine down on the top of his chest. You come to terms with it being the current reality while he peels it for you. And you fully believe it and accept it when he feeds you the half moons. One by one, painting the walls of your mind with the faintest color of orange—the very reflection of a morning sunlight pouring in. 

A solid peace, no longer peculiar, steps over the threshold of that suddenly illuminated room, and it doesn’t leave this time. It swings the door closed, the sound of the click the very announcement of stability coming to stay. 

© 2024 hoseoksluna, all rights reserved

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[ossiethegreat]

I'm not sure if this has been asked before, but what are your Delta headcanons? :D

HIII THANK YOU FOR ASKING!!

so I am usually terrified of these questions because of my crippling social anxiety, but I love Delta too much to NOT yap about him..

Alright so I’ve seen some other people (howls and sandee) talk about how he would have toxic masculinity and have difficulty dealing with emotions. I COMPLETELY agree with this, he absolutely would.

He would most definitely overwork himself in an attempt to prove his bravery and whatnot. He gets himself badly hurt in fights and proceeds to brush it off because he doesn’t want to look weak. (Loser)

So I like to headcannon that he eventually gets a service dog to help him with this issue, since the injuries were very inconvenient, and Epic and Color were worried for his physical and mental health.

If he ever overwhelms himself by running around and constantly helping people, the dog would do its job and force him to take a break :3

(I drew him with the doggy once) (its name is Zorox) (take a guess why)

Anyway obviously he would be opposed to the idea of a service animal because “that’s stupid, service animals are for disabled people, I’m perfectly fine” but Color and Epic forced him to for his own good.

He grew fond of the dog after a while, and accepted the idea since it was actually helping him.

-

Anyway enough of the dog, I wanna talk about him and Color.. 😣

So basically I’ve drawn ship art of them and I’d like to say I headcannon them as exes. Howls at some point said they could have been roommates in the Omega Timeline and I’ve just stuck with that because I’m not original.

I think the isolation Color went through made him very touch starved, and he attached to Delta because he was one of the first people he saw after a long time.

Delta, on the other hand, in general is a very social and friendly person (in his own ways), so he was just nice talkative to Color as he is to most people.

Anyway I think they dated because roommates lore /j

It ended up not working because Delta wasn’t very good with relationships, and his personality and morals clashed with Color’s. They broke up and stayed on good terms as friends 😋😋

-

As for Delta and Bravery, the two are literally just besties.

I think Delta initially had a father/kid relationship with Frisk, and he was extremely crushed when he failed to save them. It was like losing a kid basically, and he probably forced himself to help people all over to make up for his mistakes.

He ended up exhausting himself, and Core found him when he was having a mental crisis due to all of the guilt and stress he was put through, and he was later relocated at the OT.

As for Bravery, as Delta was recovering from his little guilt trip, he got to know the kid better and learned about who they were, their backstory, how they died.

He felt bad at first, convincing himself that he was just trying to replace Frisk to get over their death, but Bravery urged him not to have those thoughts because he wasn’t being “brave.”

Whining about the past wasn’t something a brave person would do. He should move on because dwelling on it wasn’t going to help him get better, or stronger.

Poor Bravery accidentally convinced him to push down his feelings 😭😭

But other than that, they just act like father and kid all the time, like best friends. Bravery offers him battle advice, keeps him from falling apart when things go wrong, and they work as a team.

In return, Delta takes the kids places they always wanted to see, lets them try new things, basically just letting them experience being a curious kid again, as they died WAY too early.

okay I’m done yapping because my phone’s about to die and it’s almost my curfew at camp 😣😣

PLEASE add to this if yall have more headcannons I love him :3

Delta belongs to animatedzorox