#like ????? do you not understand how self harm even works then 😭

[autistic-katara]

there r fics that make u insane (so amazingly good it’s removed ur sanity) and then there’s fics that make u insane (you need to fistfight the author for how they did a specific thing that caused u to rant for hours)

[mainfaggot]

I wish I didn't tell one of my close friends that I cut. she really didnt get it when I told her about it

[eatmeandbirthmeagain]

So happy your back!!!😊😊❤️could you please do one where the readers (Baldwin Iv’s wife’s) mind work differently, for example she doesn’t understand jokes or sarcasm, doesn’t pick up on social cues, brutally honest, obsessed with organization and cleanliness, but very smart and kind and she’s very self conscious because she knows she’s different and Baldwin reassures her that her mind is a gift from god, and that he loves her, later on Baldwin hears people gossiping about her because she’s different and gets angry and confronts them and defends her. Thank you! 😊

♡ Gift From God - King Baldwin x Reader ♡

♡ Fluff ♡

A/N: Hello Anon! Thank you for the request and your kind words 🩷, I'm so sorry this has taken so long to get to, I have been so busy 😭. I hope you enjoy! As always, this is based on the film Kingdom Of Heaven, not the real historical figures. Enjoy!

TW: Leprosy, Self Doubt

Y/n had always been different. For her entire life, she never truly felt the same as everybody around her.

Not her brothers and sisters or her friends. Especially not her parents. Her father was a lord with much land. He was powerful and required respect.

Many times through her life he had become angry at his daughter for speaking out of turn during important meetings or events and embarrassing him.

Y/n was intelligent. Women were not supposed to be intelligent, they were supposed to bear children and take care of their husbands. They were supposed to be silent.

Y/n was far from silent.

She spoke her mind. She simply couldn't help it and did not understand why so many were offended by her. She never meant to harm anybody, it just happened.

Her intelligence left many feeling threatened by her with the blunt remarks and witty replies. Because of this, she had been rejected by many men who her father wanted her to marry.

The young lady was kind, organized, clean and tidy.

“I would make a perfect wife!” she thought one day. “Why am I not enough?”

She felt alone in the world for many years, until he came along. The king of Jerusalem himself who her father had arranged for her to marry.

No matter how much she protested this, her father was insistent.

Y/n had come to believe she was unlikable and would never make a good wife. It wasn't that she did not want to be married, she simply believed that no man would want to marry her.

But this simply was not the case. From the day he laid eyes on her, Baldwin was in love. She was beautiful. The most beautiful woman he had ever seen, and after speaking to her for the first time after the wedding, she was even more beautiful in his eyes.

Her words were like magic, leaving him hanging at the end of each sentence. He loved how she spoke so honestly.

To the young king, she was different to every woman he had ever met. She was unique and reassured her of his such feelings. He loved everything about her.

The two were a perfect match. They played chess, studied in the library, and had many deep conversations well into the night, lying side by side in a comfortable bed.

They spent every possible moment together.

Y/n had been nervous at first, desperately trying to remember everything her mother had taught her about being a good wife, but her nerves were soothed with each moment she spent with her new husband.

Baldwin was gentle and kind, patiently reminding her of social hints that she missed in public and doing everything he could to stimulate her sharp mind. 

They had been wed for a few weeks and everything was perfect. The castle had taken a great liking to their new queen and Baldwin could not be more pleased.

She fit right in.

Until one day, the young king overheard something that made his blood boil.

Guy De Lusignan, his sister's husband, sat in the dining room, speaking with a small group when Baldwin heard him mention the name of his wife.

The young king stopped to listen with his ear against the door.

“She is a total freak,” the older man said.

“Can't take a joke, blunt and cold. I don't know what the leper sees in her. HAH! What am I saying, they are perfect for eachother! They can hide away in his chambers and play chess all day like the freaks they are-”

Baldwin had heard enough and pushed open the door, taking the air out of him slightly but he did not care.

“How dare you speak ill of my wife! Not just my wife but your queen. Show some respect for your higher ups, you ungrateful bastard!”

It was not often that the young king raised his voice, but when he did, even the most arrogant listened.

Baldwin even shocked himself with the sudden outburst.

“Y-yes my lord. I apologize” Guy stammered out, standing and taking a small bow with that half smile Baldwin despised.

“Get out of my sight. The lot of you” he growled sternly.

The group obliged and scurried off, leaving Baldwin to his thoughts.

He took a seat at the table with a pained groan. How could this happen? Why did Guy have to be so cruel? He simply prayed that his beautiful wife never heard that rotton man speak about her like that.

It would break her heart.

She had been doing so well, finally accepting herself and coming out of her shell and all.

-----------------

Baldwin returned to his chambers to find y/n tidying up his desk. Upon noticing him, she turned to her husband with a smile.

“Hello darling! I figured I would tidy up a little while you were out!”

Baldwin smiled, his heart relaxing in her presence.

“Thank you my love” he said gently, taking his wife in his arms.

Pleasantly surprised by the sudden affection, y/n wrapped her arms around him in return.

“Never change y/n. You are a gift from God Himself. I adore you just the way you are” Baldwin sighed.

The young queen smiled, looking up at him.

“Thank you sweetheart. I love you just the same and I always will

[trippinsorrows]

through your eyes + au 5

authors note: it's been so long. omg. i'm sorry. thank you to my bestie @prettypynklemonade for essentially making me update this 😭

masterlist

words: 6.7k

**gif by @dejameflorecer

warnings: some fluff, roman being possessive/borderline stalkerish, and smut

It’s just a date. Just a low, non-commitment type of date. 

At least, that’s what Solana keeps trying to tell herself. Keeps trying to remind herself. Keyword being trying, because of course, she decided to go the route of self-sabotage and self-harm by keying in Rhea on just what’s been going on, and more specifically, who she’s going on said date with.

“Are you out of your fawking mind?” Solana sighs while Kayden does her eyeshadow for her. 

The shorter woman snorts, working to blend in the crease color. “Well, that went as expected."

“Is this a joke? It has to be a joke?” She walks over to the two women, her tall presence alone demanding their attention. “Please tell me this is a joke.”

Kayden bites on her lip. “I—I don’t think it’s a joke.”

Solana sighs. “Rhea—”

“Sola.” Nothing about her voice indicates anything about what she’s about to say is going to be nice. “You can’t do this.”

“It’s just a date, Rhea.”

“Yeah, with Roman fawking Reigns.” Solana winces at the disgust imbued in his name. “He’s a sociopath. Why the hell would you even want to go out with someone like that?”

“He’s not….” Solana stops, unsure of how to word it. “I think there’s more to him than people realize.”

“Yeah, more evil,” Rhea harshly rebuffs. “Whatever you think you see in him, I promise, is an act. If he’s being nice to you, it’s only because he wants to fuck you.”

Another wince from Solana as Rhea more or less reiterates what Kayden first hypothesized when Solana confided in her best friend about the man. 

“Maybe. Maybe not.” Kayden speaks up, turning to Rhea. “Regardless of how we may feel, Solana is a grown woman. She can make her own decisions.”

“This isn’t a decision. It’s a big ass mistake.” Rhea’s gazes soften for the first time, her tone almost pleading. “Solana, please don’t do this. You’re one of my best friends. I don’t want to see you get hurt, and Roman Reigns is the exact kind of person who would hurt you.”

It’s strange. Just a month ago, Solana would 100% agree. Would not even be in this situation, because she would have found a way to cut Roman off, get away from him, even if it meant leaving town for a little while.

But, that was before she got to know him. Well, as much as one can get to know a mafia head who seems insistent on making her his, not excluding breaking into her home to ask her out on a date.

Solana is especially happy she decided to leave that part out of the story.

“It’s just a date,” is the final answer she settles on, not missing the disappointment in Rhea’s pretty blue eyes. “I promise, I’ll be careful.”

It’s definitely not the answer her friend was looking for, and Rhea doesn’t hesitate to make her disagreement known. As well as her boundaries.

“Well, I don’t want him here. This is your home, but it’s ours too,” she gestures between herself and Kayden. “And if you want to play with fire, I don’t want the flames anywhere near us.”

It’s a bit hurtful but fair. Solana nods. “I understand.”

She can’t allow herself to think about how the flames have already entered their humble abode, partially because of Roman’s lack of boundaries, but mostly because she’s continued to allow the lack of said boundaries.

Rhea’s gaze is assessing. “Your family doesn’t know, do they?” Intended as a question. Comes out as a statement.

Solana’s answer is quiet. “No.” 

Another pointed look. “I wonder why that is.”

“Okay,” Kayden cuts in, nervous chuckling a contrast to the tension building. “Obviously, we don’t necessarily agree with Solana’s actions, but again, we listen and we don’t judge.” 

Rhea scoffs. “Speak for your fucking self.” She kicks off the door, turning to leave when Solana calls her name. A blown out breath followed by her turning around. “Yeah?”

It feels wrong to ask, but Solana doesn’t have much of a choice. “Please…..please don’t say anything to anyone.”

A small smile sets on Rhea’s face, but there’s nothing friendly about it. “You know, Sola, the fact that you even have to ask me that should tell you how fucked up this is.” The smile is wiped away, replaced with the disappointment. “Don’t worry. I have zero desire to tell anyone about this.”

—------

“You wanted to see me?”

Roman lifts his eyes from the contracts laid out in front of him. Right away, he can see his sister is annoyed. Unsurprising. Rosalia looks and is irritable on a daily basis, but considering her activewear, he’d bet she’s even more irked with him because he’s interrupted her training.

Slamming the door behind her, she walks in and props down on the sofa closest to said door. “It better be worth my fucking time, too.”

Her comment doesn’t bother him. Roman sits back in the chair, responding in a calm but steel voice, “I’m gonna right to the chase.”

She glares. “As you should.”

Roman’s smile is small and wry. “You’re interfering in my personal business, Rosie.” The smile is dropped. “You know I don’t like that shit.”

Rolling her eyes, his twin couldn’t be more unbothered. “You mind telling me what the fuck you’re talking about? Not that I care, but—”

“I know you said something to Solana,” he interrupts, gaze cutting. “Something that upset her.” Something that made her try to push him away, and that’s the part that really pisses him off. 

His words seem to trigger something for his sister. “That little girl from the fight?” She scoffs, shaking her head. “She’s even more sensitive than I thought.”

“What did you say to her?”

“Nothing that wasn’t the truth.” Rosalia’s response is nonchalant as she casually admires her nails. “Just reminded her that she isn’t any different than your other hoes—”

Roman looks away, rolling his neck, doing his best to remind himself that Rosalia is his sister. She’s family. His response to her can’t be like it would to anyone else in this moment, where he’d already have pulled out his gun and lodged a bullet in their head.

He has to be…..mindful.

Running his hand through his beard, Roman manages a curt response. “Do me and yourself a favor, and stop fucking talking.” Because the more she does, the harder it will be to control his brewing temper. “Stay the fuck away from Solana.”

If he didn’t have her attention before, he most definitely has it now. “Excuse me? I don’t give a fuck about any of your little whores—”

He slams his fist on the desk, unable to taper his temper. “Call her out her name one more fucking time, Rosalia.”

His twin, however, is unbothered. Her eyes narrowing, assessing, studying. “Careful, brother, your feelings are showing.” Roman says nothing as his sister leans forward, head tilted. “You actually like this girl, don’t you?”

He doesn’t look away, but he doesn’t answer the question, either. “As I said, my personal life is none of your fucking business.” 

Not answering the question is a bit of a necessity, because he doesn’t really know how to answer it. Saying he likes Solana feels a bit too much. He’s intrigued by her, massively so, intensely attracted to her and fantasizes about the day he can fuck her senseless. However, all of that can be true along with the fact that he doesn’t actually care about or like her.

Again, it’s just the intrigue of it all. She’s the first of many, many, women he’s entertained over the years that hasn’t fallen at his feet. Who he is, the power he holds, and the wealth he possesses doesn’t make her bat an eye. None of that means anything to her. In fact, she’s most definitely the first woman he’s had to pursue in his over thirty years on this earth, and while that may seem irksome and not worth it for most women, Solana is different. He doesn’t know how, but it and she just is. Hence him needing to put his sister in her place before she fucks up just whatever this is.

“And I as I told you, I don’t give a fuck about your personal life and who you decide to fuck. She was just there, and I told her the truth. Not my fault she couldn’t fucking handle it.”

“Rosalia.” He closes his eyes, that damn temptation to snap on her at an all time high. He’d never hit his sister, not unless they were training together, but he certainly isn’t above cussing her ass out and screaming at her. Right or not. “I’m only going to say it once. Leave Solana alone.”

His twin matches, meets, and maintains the stare-off. Sibling against sibling. Alpha vs Alpha. Naturally, she is the first to walk away, not back down. Never that. Just recognizes it isn’t worth it.

“Whatever.” She dismisses, standing up, hands on her hip. “Anything else you need to waste my time with?” She doesn’t wait for a reply, turning on her heel. “Didn’t think so.”

Anyone else would receive a much different response, especially as his sister slams the door, but as already stated, this is his sister. Rosalia drives him insane, but he loves her. It’s always been the two of them, and it always will be. Immediate family, at least. He just needed to establish some boundaries with her, and that’s been done. Should she decide to test them and test him, well, he’ll cross that bridge if and when they get there.

He doesn’t have time to focus on that. 

He’s got a date tonight to focus on. 

—--------

“Oh my gosh…..”

Solana has been on her fair share of dates. Most of which take place at a restaurant, from regular ole Red Lobster to restaurants with names so foreign and fancy that she can’t pronounce. Though the latter only happened once, and it was a disaster, resulting in her sneaking out halfway through the date.

But this, standing on the dock in front of the most stunning yacht she’s ever seen, she's certain that this takes the cake.

Solana is prompted by security to move so they can escort her onto said yacht, and she's so consumed by taking in everything majestic around her that she ends up completely oblivious to when she’s taken directly in front of the man himself.

Roman

He’s dressed appropriately given the setting and weather. Nice, short sleeved beige shirt with khaki shorts and matching shoes. Expensive watch on his wrist. Gold chain around his neck. Smoldering gaze on her, drinking her in from the bottom of her heels to the top of her head where her hair is pulled up in a nice updo.

He licks his lips. “Gotta admit, I was hoping you’d wear red.”

She refuses to tell him she considered it. “I—I like pink.”

He makes a sound and offers his hand. Solana takes a second to accept it, gasping quietly when he tugs her closer. “I like it.” His eyes flicker with something. “I think I’d like you better in nothing instead though.”

Solana tenses, hating the way she’s hit with something other than discomfort and is immensely grateful when he smiles. “Relax, sweetheart.” He starts to guide her behind him to where she realizes a table is set up for them, a romantic, beautiful dinner. “I’m a man of my word.” Solana tries not to think too much of him pulling out her chair for her. “I said no touching.”

Damn.

Embarrassment fills her at such a betraying thought, because why should she feel disappointed at that? 

Roman sits across from her, staring almost. “God, you are breathtaking.”

It’s hard not to look away when God Himself bestows such a compliment. “Thank you.” And she means it, something warm and almost comforting brewing in her belly, replacing the abundance of nerves. “You—you look handsome.”

He always looks handsome though. 

And judging by the smirk on his face, he knows it. “Thank you.” His gaze is studying, as he admits, “I wasn’t sure you’d come.”

Curious, she asks, “what would have happened if I didn’t?”

His smile is cheeky. “I think you already know the answer to that.”

She does. Solana knows this man would welcome himself into her home once more. Into her bedroom. And potentially, into her.

Thus, her showing up tonight truly was for the best, and the more she sits across from him, dialogue easy amongst them, something tells it was also the right thing to do.

Solana glances around, suddenly unnerved by him looking at her so much. It’s equally unsettling as it is flattering. “This is beautiful. You—you rented it out for us for tonight?”

He smiles again, but it’s more amusing than anything. “I own it.”

Her eyes widen. “You own it?”

“Bought it for tonight,” he answers, making her eyes widen even more as he reaches for the bottle of wine, popping it open and starting to pour some in her glass followed by his.

“Wait, you bought a yacht for our date?” Even saying it aloud sounds ludicrous. “An actual yacht?”

“Pretty sure I answered that already.”

“Roman, that’s…..” She trails off, unsure just what to say and make of that. “We—we could have went to a restaurant or something.” Solana would have preferred that over him spending an obscene amount of money for just one night.

He shrugs. “You said you wanted something private.”

“Restaurants have private rooms, Roman.”

His voice is dangerously calm and smooth. “But not a private bedroom.”

Oh, Jesus.

Solana shifts in her chair, looking away as he chuckles. “Are you always this wound up?”

“I’m not wound up” she replies, feeling an unfamiliar amount of defensiveness. “It’s just….you’re very bold.” And, you don’t take no for an answer.

“I see something I want, and I go for it.” Is his simple reply as he picks invisible lint off his shirt. “That’s extended to people as well.” 

Solana doesn’t doubt that one bit.

Eager for a changing of subjects, she’s about to inquire about when the waiter—or whomever—will arrive when he takes her for yet another loop. “So, I was looking at your Instagram—”

“My Instagram?” She doesn’t mean to interrupt, but it’s hard not to. “H—how?” A valid question considering her page is private, and it’s been a couple weeks since she accepted any follow requests.

“I told you already. When I want something, I get it.” His answer objectively makes no sense but somehow answers her question. “I didn’t read your bio. Just looked at your pictures.”

Swallowing, she finds herself asking, curious almost, “and?”

His brow lifts, matching her curiosity. “And?”

Unsure why she's suddenly so nervous, Solana clears her throat, asking, “what did you think?”

The delay with his answer is the farthest thing from helpful with her anxiety. “I think there’s a lot more to you, Solana Miller, than I initially realized.”

Another almost vague answer that has her sitting forward in her seat, asking almost desperately, “is—is that a good or bad thing?”

The smile returns, and for the first time tonight, it doesn’t seem or even feel like there’s something underneath it. Just a genuine, authentic smile. 

“Tell me the more, and I’ll let you know.”

Solana chews on the inside of her cheek, not wanting to mess up her lipstick by biting down on her bottom lip. "What do you want to know?" 

His answer is instantaneous this round. "Everything."

It’s such a broad response, and off the top of her head, Solana is struggling to recall her posts. She’s shared photos of herself, obviously. Photos with friends and family. Photos of her bookstore and hobbies that include cooking, books, bible journaling, and even her horse, Rainbow. 

But, all of that seems too much to dump on a man for the first date.

Maybe the last.

Thus, her settling on sticking with the major things. 

"There's not much to me,” she answers with a shrug, taking a sip of her champagne before continuing. “I'm....I'm an RN, but I've been on sabbatical for almost two years now. I—" There's a type of sadness that bleeds into her voice. "I was working in the ER, but the things I saw...." She shakes her head. "I just needed a break, needed to not be surrounded by so much death.” An honest, truthful, almost vulnerable thing she’s grateful Roman doesn’t press her on despite the absolute intrigue in his expression as she shares pieces of herself. 

A small smile falling on her face, she continues. “I've always found an escape in books and writing. Another passion I share with my mom, and we opened the bookstore and that....that's been it."

She’s not sure what she expected him to follow up with, but his question certainly isn’t it. "Does she work there with you?"

Ignoring the almost warmth that fills her at such an innocent, kind question, Solana shakes her head, "No, she's a cardiologist over at Central hospital." For whatever reason, even though he most definitely did not ask, Solana finds herself providing additional, unasked information, "she was a nurse back in Mexico, but when she married my dad and moved to the states, she went back to school and got her MD."

He sits forward, elbows on the table. "Did you ever want to do the same? Be a doctor?"

"I did, but...." Solana leans back in her seat, shrugging. "I was a gifted kid. I did all honors classes and a running start program, so when I graduated at 18, I already had my associates and was only in undergrad for 2 years. Did an accelerated program to get my RN, and by 20, I just felt burnt out from it all. I needed a break from school. Then I needed a break from nursing, and now I'm just....trying to enjoy the quiet."

An ironic thing considering there's nothing quiet about the man sitting across from her. 

It’s what causes her to ask, voice soft, "Roman....what do you want from me?" 

Because this can’t keep going on without her knowing just where they’re going. She needs some guidance, some insight into where his head is. Outside of the sexual aspect of this all. 

That part is very clear.

Roman seems to really sit and mull over her question, his handsome face shifting into something serious and genuine. "Not sure, but I'm intrigued by you, and that doesn't happen. Ever. So, I want to see where this goes."

It’s an answer, so she can respect that much. But, the fact that specificity is lacking in his response bothers her. What about her intrigues him? Is it the fact that he’s been able to initiate some type of intimacy both times they’ve been alone? Does she seem easy to him? Because, if that’s the case, the line in the sand needs to be drawn here and now. 

“Roman.” Solana is the one to take her time in figuring just how to word this. "You should know that I—I meant it when I said I'm not like that. I don't—I don't sleep around." Or at all, but he doesn't need to know that. Something tells her Roman knowing she's a virgin will only increase whatever interest he has in her. And, not in a good way. "I don't—”

His response arrives right away. “I know you don’t, and if that was what I was wanting, I wouldn’t be sitting here right now.” Something tells her he’s being honest. If actual, full on sex is what he was after, he certainly wouldn’t be with her right now.

And it’s his honesty that creates that bridge for her. “Roman, I know we’ve….done things.” More him doing all the things to her. “But, I mean it. I—I don’t want to have sex with you.” And before he can press her, inquire just what and why, she explains, “sex means something to me. It’s not just a thing you do. It’s a bond and connection, and I only want that with someone I have a bond and connection with.” And, I don’t with you. 

Might not ever.

“I’m fine with….other things.” She doesn’t feel the need to elaborate on that. He should know exactly what the ‘other things’ are. “But….penetration is where I draw the line.” And just where the next quiet part comes from, she hasn’t the slightest clue. But, she says it, and she says it loud enough for him to hear, whether intentional or not. “For now.”

It’s a stupid additive. One that makes his brow lift and Solana swallow. If she didn’t give up her virginity to her fiancé of all people, what chance does Roman have? It doesn’t even make any sense. He’s the last person she can see herself going that far with.

“For now….” And of course he settles on that part. Solana hates herself right about now. “I don’t really agree with you. On sex, I mean. We clearly have very different views on that, but regardless, I respect it. I will respect it.”

Oh.

That….that’s not exactly what she was expecting. 

At all.

“So what…what does that mean?”

Because now she’s even more confused than before. Because she was convinced the minute she made it clear she has no intentions on sleeping with Roman tonight, or any other night, he’d shut the shit down. Would pull away. 

That’s clearly not what's happening though. 

Roman’s answer is clear, concise, and assertive. “It means that doesn’t change what I said earlier.” He reaches his hand across the table, turning hers over, fingers tracing her palm. “I’m still intrigued and still want to see where this goes.”

Solana is quiet, sitting on each word that leaves his mouth, trying her best to process it. All of it.

What the hell is even going on? How did she end up in this position? Roman represents everything she hates about the world she was born into. People like him are the reason she’s done her best to stay away and keep her distance. 

And now, as Rhea pointed out, she’s playing with the fire God himself.

Yet there’s been zero effort on her part to extinguish the flames.

Even as they threaten to lap and consume her.

—--------

For all intents and purposes, dinner is enjoyable and not just the meal itself. Conversation between herself and the Head of the Table is normal, casual, their banter almost something natural and organic. 

And she finds herself just as interested in him as he is in her. Finds herself asking more questions about him, wanting to know more about the man who seems to not exactly be what she always thought him to be. 

Like the fact that he can cook. Or rather, claims that he can. Or that he makes an effort every Sunday to watch football with his cousins, his “best friends” as he calls them. Or even his interest in photography he shares with her, even a couple photos from his phone.

And with each tidbit shared, the normalization deepens. Roman feels less and less like a thing and more and more like a person.

The staff have just cleared the tables, Solana wiping her mouth when he asks, “where do you want to go for the next date?”

For the twentieth time tonight, she’s taken off guard. “Next date?” The small smile on her face betrays her as she teases him almost, “who said I agreed to one?”

Roman chuckles, once again reaching for her hand, holding it this time. “You did the second you stepped foot on this boat.” Her stomach drops, chest tightening for reasons unknown. “Agreed to this.”

Her heartbeat is in the danger zone as she asks in a low voice, “and what is this?”

He doesn’t skip a beat or take his eyes off her, answering so confidently, “us.”

Us

Solana is a mess. What the hell has she gotten herself into?

Shifting, she moves into a new space of trying to set more ground rules with the man who has her questioning almost everything she thought she knew about herself. “Roman, there’s no—”

“Come here.” 

Two words. So simple. Also challenging.

“Roman….”

He sits back in his chair, legs spreading just enough. “Solana, come here.”

Here would be his lap. Here would be a place that she absolutely should not be. But, it’s also the exact place she finds herself moving towards. Barely in front of him, Roman doesn’t hesitate to yank her down on his lap. She’s sideways, face angled down at him, hands on his shoulders. 

"Let me help you understand." Roman’s fingers dance up the spine of her back, adjusting her position on his lap, Solana having to ignore the sizable bulge underneath pressing into her ass. 

Why is he hard?

An unspoken question that’s drowned out by the alluring sound of his deep voice. "You're with me now. That means if someone looks at you, I'll kill them." His hand eventually moves to the side of her breast, applying just the lightest pressure, but enough to have her squeezing his thigh. "If they breathe too hard around you, I'll kill them." Solana has to bite on her bottom lip to retain what's bound to be a moan when he slides his hand to the front of her body, fingertips massaging her exposed skin through the cutouts of her skimpy dress. "And if they try to fucking touch you, they'll wish I had killed them when all is said and done." 

Completely stunned, she isn’t sure how to respond to that. Isn't sure what to say. Her response is truly something that spills out her mouth….”you’re crazy.”

Roman, however, just chuckles. “I’ve been called much worse, sweetheart.” He then sits up a bit, her eyes closing as he ghosts his lips over her shoulder. “Regardless, you still came tonight, stayed, and now you’re sitting on my lap. You know why?” Solana gasps when he moves his hand between her legs. “Because you like this shit. You like how I make you feel. All flustered and discombobulated.” She swallows, and he hums against her, asking, “wanna know how I know?” He easily slides his fingers past her soaked panties, grazing her wet pussy lips and lifting his hand to show her the proof of her body betraying her. 

Roman presents the undeniable evidence. “This is how.” And if the situation wasn’t already erotic enough, Solana can barely contain herself on his lap when he sticks his fingers in his mouth, sucking each off.

Her stomach is caving and twisting and doing all sorts of things. “Roman…” 

This.  All of this is the exact reason why Solana has wanted to stay far away from this life. Has wanted nothing to do with the mafia world. The violence. The carnage. The mayhem. And yet, her thighs press together at Roman's oath and his carnal act for reasons she can't decipher.

His gaze drops to her legs, and she curses inwardly. Once again, her reaction to him is out and in the open. 

Roman smirks. "You're touch deprived...." His assessment is embarrassingly accurate. It's gross how Roman's inherently innocent touches seem to evoke more from her than her hand ever could. "I can't wait to fix that."

Solana swallows and taps into some deep rooted assertiveness as she asks, "what about you?"

Roman continues to lightly touch her through her dress. "What about me?"

Her stomach is doing all kinds of weird things, and her head clearly is several miles behind, because there's no logical basis for what comes out of her mouth next. "If—if I can't be with anyone else, then...then neither can you." 

His eyes flicker with something akin to disapproval. “I can't fuck you, but you don’t want me fucking anyone else?” He makes a sound, finger moving circles around her thigh. “Doesn’t seem very fair now, does it?”

On one hand it doesn’t, but on the other, it makes sense to her. “You say…you say you want to get to know me, to see where this goes, well that’s….that’s my stipulation.” The only one she’s really set throughout this whole thing that probably shouldn’t even be a thing in the first place. 

Roman is quiet for another good minute, finally answering. “Fine.” It’s painfully obvious he’s not excited about this caveat, but he agrees, nonetheless. “But, I meant what I said.” His voice and gaze darken again. “No one touches you but me.” His hand lifts to her neck, grasping just enough to evoke a gasp but not enough to restrict breathing. “Is that understood?”

Solana’s gaze is locked with his as she licks her lips, answering breathlessly, “yes.”

And just like that, the darkness settles into something easy.  “Good,” he says it so simply, so casually, hand dropping from her neck.

Solana just looks at him. 

It should be unsettling to her, at least a little, how easily he maneuvers between calm and charismatic and dark and intimidating. 

But, it doesn’t.

It does a bit of the opposite.

Lord, what the hell is she getting herself into? 

—-----------

After some coaxing, additional foreplay, and the reiteration of no penetration, Solana finds herself following Roman deeper into the yacht, headed toward the bedroom. The travel there is a nice distraction, Solana continuing to marvel at the luxury of it all. She wasn’t exactly raised poor, but this level of opulence is unfamiliar. But, something she most definitely could get used to. 

It’s still up in the air if it’s something she should get used to though. 

Finally arriving, Roman closes the door behind them and walks past her. Solana's eyes never leave him, especially when he starts to unbutton his shirt, discarding it to a nearby chair. 

Her cheeks are warm and reddened watching him move onto the bed, sitting back against the headboard, legs spread just enough. She’s ready to remind him of her boundaries when he motions for her with his index finger. “Come here.”

Her chest tightens. “Roman…..”

He makes a sound. “I thought I told you I don’t like repeating myself.” He did. He most certainly did. “Come here.”

Solana swallows, partially unsure why she can’t stand her ground, can’t comprehend what causes her to pull her dress up her thighs just enough so she can crawl on the bed, over to him. Her heart races even more when he grabs her, positions her between his legs, back against his firm chest. 

His lips hover against her temple. “Good girl.”

Her eyes shut, that racing heart of hers nearing dangerous territories. “Roman, wh—what—”

“Touch yourself.”

Solana’s eyes shoot open. 

What did he just say?

And, she goes to express as such, “what do you—”

He moves his hands to her dress, dragging it up higher until her black thong is exposed. “I want you to show me how you touched yourself when I left that night.”

Immediate goosebumps sprout all over her damn body, her mouth dry, her brain struggling to process all of this. “Roman….”

“Because you did, didn’t you?” His taunts are accompanied by his hand slipping under the waistband of her thong, snapping it against her skin. “You fucked yourself thinking of daddy, didn’t you?”

Solana swallows, unable to answer. Horrified at just how he knows this. How he knows she most definitely laid up in her bed, using her hand and vibrator after he left her so flustered and needing a release.

Something freezes her more when an equally terrifying and erotic thought crosses her mind. Was he watching her?

“Roman, were you—” She’s silenced by his fingers dancing along her mons pubis, continuing to taunt and tease her, eager for compliance with his task. 

“Shhh.” His lips are moving along the perimeter of her face as he travels his hand from downward to upward, palming her breast. “Too much talking.” She chews down on her bottom lip when his thumb flicks her pebbled nipple. Damn her for forgoing a bra. “Daddy’s ready to watch.”

It’s crazy. All of it. All of this. All of him. Solana should be running for the hills, should be seeing what resources she can utilize to disappear for a little while, just long enough for this infatuation he has with her to fizzle out.

But, that’s not what happens. What happens is quite the opposite. Lifting her lower half, she slides her thong down her legs, lightly tossing it on the other side of the bed, thus leaving her bare and exposed.

In more ways than one.

Almost nervously, her hand travels to that special space between her legs, a small moan leaving her mouth when she realizes just how wet she already is.

It’s not normal how aroused this man can make her with just words and light touches. 

Three fingers gliding up her vagina evoke another moan from her and an almost grunt from the man behind her. 

“Look how wet you are.” His voice is something of awe and intrigue, Solana moving her fingers back to her pussy, gathering more of her essence. “Just for me. Always for me.”

Her breath is ragged as she starts playing with herself, eyes closing, thinking back to that night. Thinking back to how good his fingers felt inside of her, working her in a way no man ever has.

Solana spreads her thighs, giving her more access to her swollen throbbing clit. “Oh, fuck….”

“That’s it,” he murmurs against her skin, slipping his hand into her dress, palming her breast. “Work yourself, baby. Show me how you take care of yourself when daddy’s not around.”

Solana’s head is thrown back against his chest as she moves her fingers from her clit, to her sticky, gushy opening. In and out, she thrusts her fingers in, all the while imagining it’s someone else touching her.  Someone else making her thrash and moan the way she is. 

And that someone else is the man behind her, the man whose name she finds herself moaning, “Roman…..”

“Hmmm.” Stll, that damn teasing voice of his, deep, baritone, and already knowing. “What do you need, sweetheart? Tell Daddy what his good girl needs.”

Oh, she hates him. Hates the way her pussy flutters every time he refers to himself as daddy. How her body responds in a way that defies all logic. 

Same as her response. 

“Touch me.” It’s embarrassing how needy and wanton she sounds in this moment, the way she nearly begs him, her other hand going to his thigh. 

Solana would give anything to see whatever nonverbal response he has at this request. Something smug, no doubt. All knowing. Because there’s no way he can be surprised at such a plea with this situation they're in, how she’s finger fucking herself, leaned up against his chest, his big hands groping and feeling all on her titties. 

The erotic of it all almost calls for his participation. 

And his participation is exactly what happens.

“Oh my God,” Solana nearly jumps off the bed when Roman’s hand is over hers, his thick fingers gently moving hers to the side, the pad of his thumb hovering over her clit, two other fingers dipping inside her. “Shit, don’t stop.”

His deep voice chuckling against her nearly rocks her to her core. “Oh, I don’t plan to.”

Solana’s body moves in sync with his hand as he works her, so good, oh so good. Solana is a whimpering mess, her hand now on top of his, unable to move away, unable to do anything but sink into this all consuming hole of pleasure. “Yes. Oh my—just like that.” 

“Look how needy you are. Fucking my hand like this.” His voice is deep, primal, laden with passion and sensuality that matches hers. “Do you have any idea how I’m going to ruin you?”

Yes. Yes, she absolutely does, because he already has. Just from his hand and mouth. 

Roman’s ministrations are nearing the point of too much, Solana’s release right around the corner, something the man bringing her to heaven is clearly very privy to.

He practically growls, asking, “you gonna come all over daddy’s hand? Hmm?” 

“Yes,” she whimpers, eyes clamped shut, hand moving to his wrist, squeezing when he quickens and intensifies his actions. “God, I’m gonna—ohhh.” She’s cut off by the orgasm that wrecks her body, her drenched cunt throbbing, body jerking against him, flashing, blinding white lights against her closed lids.

And minutes later, she’s limp, slightly panting, still holding onto him, still trying to settle herself.

Never has she come as hard as the man before her makes her come. It’s….overwhelming. In all of the right ways.

“You don’t think we’re done, do you?”

It’s that question that makes her eyes shoot open. What did he just say?

But before Solana can process anything, Roman is moving them, switching around their positions, and it’s when he goes to lift her, she realizes just what position he’s putting them in.

Trepidation consumes her. “Roman, I can’t—”

“I’ve been thinking about eating you out all day,” he groans. Solana hates how easy and natural it is for him to say and admit to the most filthiest things. “Come sit on daddy’s face, so I can suck that sweet pussy.”

And that’s exactly what he’s doing, positioning her, hiking her dress up even higher, holding it scrunched at her waist. “Roman—”

“Stop talking,” he murmurs, Solana finally straddling his face, her hands gripping the headboard. Roman’s eyes are entranced by the sight of her pussy, so wet and pretty, dripping and needing him. “Come here….”

“Roman!” She gasps, when his strong hands tug her down, his mouth completely covering her, his tongue thrusted inside her tight hole. “Oh shit.” Solana’s head falls against her forearm that’s across the headboard. She’s seen this position in porn, has heard her friends talk about it, but no one told her it felt this damn good.

And maybe it’s less the position and more the man.

Roman’s moan underneath her as he eats her out, feasting on her pussy like it’s his first meal of the day, seems to lean on the side of less the position and all the man. 

There’s no concern in the world about suffocating him or too much of her weight bearing down on him when Roman’s grip on her thighs tighten as he pulls her even closer, his tongue circling around her engorged clit.

“God, it feels so good,” she moans, one hand reaching for her breast as she plays with her nipples, grinding down on his face. “Daddy….”

Roman’s groan underneath her is loud and unmistakable along with the way his left hand moves to her ass, giving a slap that echoes through the room and evokes another moan from her. 

She’s not entirely sure what stamina is required for eating pussy, at least the way Roman does, but his seems above average. Because Solana is propped up on his face so long that she feels her thighs begin to cramp and tense, resulting in her sinking down farther on him. And for a brief second, she feels bad, worries that her weight is too much. But, it’s quickly shoved to the side when he once again tugs down on her, welcoming it, welcoming and wanting her cunt to completely suffocate him.

A torture he seems to be deeply enjoying.

It takes some time, what feels like hours, hours that are filled with nothing but pleasure and ecstasy, before Solana’s orgasm overtakes her. And once again, she’s a whining, moaning, writhing mess, coming all over his face and in his mouth. It’s too much, overstimulating in every sense. So much so that it’s Roman who has to carefully lift her from off his face. He moves her down so she’s straddling his lap, her hands going to his shoulders, head in the crook of his neck as she tries to settle herself. 

And, it’s not helped by the massive bulge she feels pressing up against her ass.

Roman kisses her temple, applauding her, “such a good girl for me.” She feels it, every bit of it, even if nothing about this whole thing is good. The pleasure she’s getting out of it certainly is. “Look how you came for Daddy.”

And came she did, Solana can feel his damp beard scraping against her cheek, no doubt her essence being the cause of it. It’s better to focus on that feeling and sensation vs the strange sense of pride and accomplishment she feels at being his good girl.

It's just all so confusing.

She doesn’t know how to feel about this, about a lot of what’s happened since meeting a certain Roman Reigns. Or the way he just holds her, the way she holds onto him despite being fully descended from her orgasmic haze.

One thing’s for certain.

If Solana is in fact dancing with the devil, right now, in this moment, her only hope is that it’s a song that doesn’t end anytime soon.

[genderlessdude92]

. . .

⋆⁺₊❅.⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅*̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙*̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ��₊⋆⁺₊❅. •̩̩͙❅*̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙*̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ⁺₊❅.⋆꙳

⭑ ๋ ⊹ ࣭ Lynn’s/Genderlessdude92's masterlist !! ⊹ ๋࣭ ⭑

⋆⁺₊❅.⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅*̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙*̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆⁺₊❅. •̩̩͙❅*̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙*̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ⁺₊❅.⋆꙳

. . .

･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･⚬•・✦⋆°☽

☆♪..°.CALL OF DUTY.°..♪☆

･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･⚬•・✦⋆°☽

┃𖦹 I’M OKAY

SUMMARY: Ghost has came back from a harsh mission, most likely beaten to the core, and his S/o arrives worried sick. But, Simon can reassure her that everything will be alright.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･⚬•・✦⋆°☽

☆♪..°.HAZBIN.°..♪☆

･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･⚬•・✦⋆°☽

┃𖦹 THE BREAKING POINT

♪ SUMMARY: Y/N is a diligent worker, much to the chagrin of her partner, Alastor. Despite his efforts to get her to stop for both their sakes, Y/N remains steadfast in her duties. However, Alastor finds a loophole to this situation.

—————————

┃𖦹 HOLD ME AGAIN

♪ SUMMARY: Alastor has been neglecting you ever since you guys had a fight. It gets to you. (MAJOR ANGST/MAJOR FLUFF)

———————————

┃𖦹 Alastor x Reader who hates men

♪ANON ASK: “hai :3 can you do alastor with a s/o who is annoyed by men but she sees him and is like "but you're okay" because he's not a brute. it's like wow they're both mean to everyone except each other <3”

———————————

┃𖦹 GENTLE, PLEASE!

♪SUMMARY: Y/N, like the nervous wreck she is, can’t stop spending her free time worrying over something that’s not even a big deal. Of course, one thing lead to another. (Thank you, Charlie, for letting them have the day off).

———————————

┃𖦹 FORGIVENESS

♪SUMMARY: Alastor's work at the Hazbin Hotel keeps him preoccupied, leading to neglect in his relationship with Y/N. An argument later on arises, causing both to confront their feelings. Ultimately, they reconcile, promising to communicate better in the future. The story emphasizes the importance of understanding and communication in relationships.

———————————

┃𖦹 A CLEAN MIND (First Part)

♪SUMMARY: After a long night of doing Lucifer’s Tango with the infamous Radio Demon, limbs sore to the brim, Alastor decides that it’s best to give his darling some proper aftercare. Of course one thing had led to another, but what would they do once they were caught in the net with a knock on the door?

———————————

┃𖦹 AL, VOX, VAL, & LUCI WITH THEIR BIOLOGICAL CHILD

♪ANON ASK: “Hi, I really love your work! If your requests are open and if it's allowed, can I request for headcanons of Vox/Val/Alastor/Lucifer with their biological baby w reader?? I'm sorry if this is weird I just die for family dynamics😭😭 like, how would they act, would they be present or neglectful, and that stuff!! Ik it's impossible to have a child in hell but HEY. ITS FICTIONAL. It's really your decision if this is super fluff or super angst, but personally I believe it would be angst because it's hell and they are really famous 😭 THANKU”

———————————

┃𖦹 PRECIOUS

♪SUMMARY: You and Alastor get into a fight because you’re just worried he got hurt after a fight with Vox. He snaps at you and…well, you isolate yourself. whoopsies!

———————————

┃𖦹 STICKS AND STONES

SUMMARY: Y/N is shaken when Vox mocks her on live television with rude comments and even exposing her secret relationship with Alastor, too. Struggling with self-doubt, she feels inadequate in Hell's power-driven society. Alastor comforts her, emphasizing her unique qualities and their deep connection, helping her find solace despite the lingering hurt from Vox's comments.

———————————

┃𖦹 IT’S OKAY TO NOT BE OKAY

SUMMARY: In a tranquil meadow near Cannibal Town, Alastor, the Radio Demon, returns to the sanctuary he shares with his beloved y/n, seeking solace from his chaotic life. Upon finding y/n in a state of distress and in the middle of harming herself, he realizes the depth of her pain and the hidden struggles she's been enduring. Through gentle support and heartfelt conversations, Alastor reassures y/n of his unwavering love and commitment, promising to face their challenges together.

———————————

┃𖦹 I’M ALL YOURS

SUMMARY: Alastor and his S/O face the intensity of rut season together, with y/n offering her support and revealing her innocence. (Yup, you’re a virgin in this). Despite initial apprehensions, their passion culminates in a deeply intimate experiemce, as well as a night to remember.

———————————

┃𖦹 THE STATIC SHE LOVES

SUMMARY: Y/N and Alastor navigate a tumultuous relationship marked by Alastor’s inner demons and his fear of vulnerability. After an intense argument and a moment of emotional and physical connection, Y/N’s unwavering love forces Alastor to confront his self-loathing and open up to her support. Despite the chaos surrounding them, their bond grows stronger as they choose to face their fears and flaws together.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Requests are always open! Notes, Comments, and are reblogs are appreciated! All writings belong to @l4zyb0n35 and @genderlessdude92

[love-and-deepspace-wiki]

Helloooo your blog is a liver saver for lore enthusiast like me! You know, although infold hadn't release much info on certain crucial aspect in the game but I was wondering what's your take or theory on how Protocore Syndrome works? Is it just another name for a Heart failure Disease or something more? Would love to read more of your fanon idea on it! And thank you for creating this amazing wiki blog! 💕💕💕

Ayyyy lore enthusiasts gang~ And of course! Thank you for reading! Sorry this took SO long to reply to. Had to do some major studying for this one lol.

I want to start off by saying that medical knowledge is not my area of expertise, so this is purely a layman's best interpretation based on everything I could learn at Google University 🤣 I managed to decipher her electrocardiogram (ECG/EKG) report results. But as for what irl diagnosis those results indicate, I simply lack the expertise required to deduce that answer. Even though I couldn't answer the second part of your question (believe me, I tried so hard 😭), I hope this post is still useful to you! To any medical or med school folk out there, now is your time to shine and save the day (pls 🙏).

How Protocore Syndrome Works?

The basic in-game description of Protocore Syndrome is very rudimentary and doesn't really give us a lot to go off of. But here's what we know:

Protocore Syndrome: From the "Deepspace Messages" section of the in-game Spacepedia resource, we learn that it is a unique disease caused by Protocores. There are different types, and they harm the human body in various ways. Currently, the known types are A, E, and Y

Type Y Protocore Syndrome: From the description given in the World Underneath story "No Morning", we learn that it is a heart syndrome that involves that hides in various organs and systems, with a long latency period, and slow progression. By the time it's detected, it's often too late. There is currently no known cure.

Still digging for concrete information to confirm the protaganist's diagnosis, but the story seems to infer she has Protocore Syndrome. (If you have any screenshots or resources that definitively identify her condition, pls dm me and I'll credit you).

From Zayne's statements during her chapter 1 appointment, we learn that she has Protocore fragments in her heart. He goes on to specify the following symptoms:

Heart arrhythmia

Premature ventricular contractions (PVCs)

Heart murmurs

The game shows us glimpses of her medical paperwork too. We are shown her ECG report and summary. After covering her report, I'll explain some potential discrepancies (emphasis on "potential" since I'm nowhere near an expert lol).

ECG Basics:

We're going to get a little technical here. But I think we'll get the most value from the analysis once we understand what we're looking at. The ECG shown in-game is a standard 12-lead report, producing 12 individual strips.

Leads:

There are the six limb leads: I, II, III, aVR (augmented vector right), aVL (augmented vector left), and aVF (augmented vector foot).

Then, there are the six chest leads: V1, V2, V3, V4, V5, and V6.

Intervals & Waves:

For the report details to make more sense, here's a quick reference to aid in the interpretation of different waves, wave interval, gain settings, and speed settings.

And, based on the gain and speed settings detailed below, each small square on her chart represent 40 milliseconds (ms) and each large squares represents 200 ms.

ECG Report Analysis:

Gain, Speed, and Heart Rate:

Gain: 10 mm/mV

Gain is a setting on an ECG machine that controls the size of an ECG trace. The standard gain setting is 10mm/mV, meaning that 10 mm on the screen represents 1 millivolt (mV) of voltage. It appears that Akso Hospital's ECG adheres to this standard.

Speed: 25 mm/s

Speed is the paper speed setting on an ECG machine. So, the Akso Hospital's ECG machine is set to 25 mm/s (meaning that each small square on the chart represents 0.04 seconds).

Heart rate: 85 bpm

Pretty self-explanatoty, but this measures how many times her heart beats within one minute. For women, a normal resting heart rate is considered 60-100 bpm, and hers is within this range.

PR Interval: 138 ms

The PR Interval (or PQ Interval) is the distance between the start of the P wave and the start of the QRS complex. A normal PR Interval is between 120 - 200 ms. Since hers is 138 ms, she falls within the normal range.

QT & QTC Intervals:

QT Interval: 347 ms

The QT Interval is the time between the start of the QRS segment and the end of the T wave. It measures the electrical activity of the heart's ventricles. For a heart rate of 85 bpm, a normal QT Interval would generally be 380 ms or less. So, hers is normal.

QTC Interval: 411 ms

The QTC Interval is the corrected QT interval (thats what the "c" is for). It represents the time it takes the heart's ventricles to contract and relax. It is calculated by adjusting the QT interval for heart rate. A normal QTC interval for women is usually less than 460 ms. Since hers is 411 ms, she's within the normal range.

P, T, and QRS Wave Axes:

P Wave Axis: 38°

The P wave axis tells us the net direction of the P wave. A normal P wave axis is usually between 0° and 75°. Since hers is 38°, it falls within the normal range.

T Wave Axis: 65°

The T wave tells us the net direction of the T wave. A normal P wave axis is usually between 15° and 75°. Since hers is 65°, it is within the normal range.

QRS Axis: 35°

The QRS Axis tells us the average direction of electrical activity in the heart during ventricular depolarization. A normal adult QRS axis is between -30° and 90°. Since hers is 35°, she falls within the normal range.

SV1 and RV5:

SV1: 0.94 mV

SV1 represents the voltage of the S wave from the V1 lead. It is used to detect ventricular hypertrophy. A normal SV1 is considered to be less than 2.5 mV and hers is within this range.

RV5: 0.85 mV

The RV5 represents the voltage of the R wave from the V5 lead. It is used to measure electrical activity in the left ventricle. An RV5 reading is considered normal if it is less than 3.5 mV and hers is within this range.

QRS Interval: 71 ms

The QRS Interval the interval between the start of the Q wave and the end of the S wave. Represents the time it takes for electrical impulses to spread through the ventricles. A normal QRS Interval is 70-100 ms. Since hers is 71 ms, she's within the normal range.

Potential Discrepancies:

Okay. So, I thought it was a bit strange that all of her ECG readings were within the normal ranges. But I genuinely don't know if a patient can be diagnosed with an irl heart condition despite having an ECG that appears normal. Maybe its a diagnosis determined by other criteria we aren't shown?

Additionally, I looked up ECG strip examples of both cardiac arrhythmias and premature ventricular contractions (PVCs). And comparing them with her charts, I don't see indications of those symptoms in there.

[things-arent-what-they-seem66]

Random stuff from Guardian Angel AU.

Angst bitch.

1: Nasty rumors Susan spread about Adam got to a point that one of his neighbors spitted on his face and called him a man crack whore when she saw him outside and near her kids. She also said she’ll call the police if she saw Adam near her kids again.

That was the final step into making Adam a full hermit.

2: Every parent tells their kid to stay away from “The weird man in 1A”, some even take it to a step further with saying he could hurt them. So, Adam is seen as a creepy criminal among kids. They run away from him if they ever see Adam at the halls.

3: Lucifer isn’t the only person who brought him food in Adam’s life. A nice lady named Rosie used to put food on his doorstep once every month when she noticed he barely got out and how terrible he looked. She worked with children, so she didn’t wanted to be seen with Adam much, but she also began visiting Adam once every six months, they had tea together and Adam felt like he saw a tiny light in his endless darkness.

But this only went on for two years. Rosie died because of a heart attack four years ago. She was the last person who lived in Lucifer’s apartment.

3: Charlie saved Angel and Vaggie. Angel from his addictions and Vaggie from self harm and suicide. I guess it’s in Morningstar’s genes to fall in love with a soul they saved :>

4: Adam played a song for Lucifer when he was still on Earth, which he gladly listened. It was the first time Adam had played his guitar for a long time.

And when Lucifer was forced to leave him, he played, sometimes even sang, the same song almost every night for two years. Because he missed him and it made him think of him.

Lucifer’s heart exploded while he was watching Adam do this from Heaven. He began listening it every night to sleep as well.

—

Hehe

Dude whhhhy 😭

Yeah getting spit in the face is not only fucking gross but an understandable reason for Adam to stay away. He ended up telling Lucifer about it but wouldn't tell him who.

And that would hurt especially with how the situation with his own kids went.

Awwww Rosie and Adam being friends I'm so soft for their friendship. Shame she died. That only served to isolate Adam more. Everyone leaves why bother making friends? No one likes me anyway so that was made easy.

I WAS GOING TO SEND AN ASK ABOUT ADAM WRITING LUCIFER A SONG!!!!

Yeah, the Morningstars definitely have a type as well ;)

Ahhh sweet angst.

What if Lucifer had to look up his onlyfans page? You know, to see what he was working with and how deep Adam is in this world. He sees all the photos and videos. Spoiler he's in deep.

Adam has thousands of subscribers. And hundreds of posts. It's surprising he would do this line of work because of his past. But maybe, it was Velvette who told him "You're gorgeous, why not make a profit off your looks? Here I have a website you can use."

Adam tries it and when he sees how many people want him and shower him in praise and compliment him and tell him how wonderful he is.

Just another addiction on the pile. Only this one makes money and he hates himself afterwards.

Bonus points if someone in the building is subscribed and wanted more face to face time. Even if it doesn't go THAT far they make sexual comments at him any time they see him. (A man most likely)

And that was another thing to keep Adam in his house. The money is great but he hates that it comes from this and it's a never ending cycle.

[reincarnated-angel]

not even half a day later:

closer (nine inch nails) x fugo (& fugio) analysis bc this guy (me) is insane

Reinc- ReRe’s Incoherent Analysis

//notice: this whole post is full of reaching, tunnel vision, informal language and character speculation (reaching alert 🚨). i am very aware. im so sorry, its hard to read 😭 i just want the people to know that i understand that this is a reach, because im anxious and this is a fugio-focused analysis bc im not normal about them. this is the only way i can reassure myself that i'm self aware//

the instrumental to closer has a sludgy, mangy, sensual but horrific feel. it invokes a sense of intriguing disgust and it’s…hot, frankly. love this song. it makes me think of purple haze, its virus and the rippling skin it causes. the swampy?? sounds really remind me of that. also, the way it’s sung (?? past tense for sing) sounds desperate and frustrated at times which reminds me of fugo himself obviously. also there’s some vaguely siren-sounding instruments and that might be like. a warning. iykwim. a warning like the colours on a poison dart frog (reaching alert 🚨)

the lyrics aren’t exactly fugo literally. i do think the more explicit lyrics could be intrusive thoughts though. (reaching alert 🚨) i feel like some parts of the lyrics might apply, since the song can be interpreted as a self-harming cycle of addiction-to-an-escape, that concept i think can be demonstrated.

“I broke apart my insides

(Help me) I've got no soul to sell

(Help me) the only thing that works for me

Help me get away from myself”

this can be applied to fugo in a sense, as i think his character is intrinsically self-loathing for all the things that have happened to him, and as i headcanon him to be #beautiful physically, (albino, soft regal features) i think he hates that. hence being willing to sacrifice himself how he does in PHF and i also like to think he wears his glasses (headcanon alert, reaching alert 🚨) to sort of veil his pretty eyes //sorry, i like him//. i don’t think he feels like he deserves anything and keeps trying to make his physical appearance match his twisted self-image, consciously or not.

“My whole existence is flawed

You get me closer to God”

fugio. sorry guys

wuh oh saviour x damned dynamicksjshut up. im so into it

i. dont think fugo wants to exist. i have to be frank here. the only thing keeping him there was definitely the gang and having some sort of support, but even so he def had..thoughts sometimes. knowing half of them…went….would probably have broken him. in the 6 months he’d been alone, i can't imagine how horrid he must have felt, not knowing anything, worrying, screaming internally, probably barely getting sleep thinking he’d be found and shot or something for leaving them, or for being with the betrayers. (as in, if they survived, they’d come get him, and if they didn’t, passione would come get him for being associated with them) (reaching alert 🚨) when he found out about their deaths he probably blamed himself like the community does (lmao..sorry its not funny 🥲), thinking he could have saved them somehow with his stand. survivor’s guilt core. also, he was very close with bucciarati and was literally the first to be recruited. how do you think that feels. the man who rescued you from the depths of society. flipping DIES. trying to save the girl you thought wasn’t worth saving logically. god. //ugghrghgk the complexity this is why i'm in loooove//

”you get me closer to god” giorno! son of dio! how much closer could you get!!! we could flip that and say this means closer to feeling not guilty and holy.

“You can have my isolation

You can have the hate that it brings

You can have my absence of faith

You can have my everything”

//literally him !!!//

“isolation” 6 months of being alone. also purple haze forcing himself to distance from others literally for fear of damage

“the hate that it brings” reminds me of abbachio’s visible, almost violent fear of purple haze, knowing its capabilities and how it can destroy without thought. and of course fugo’s feelings about it. he hates this ugly reflection of the things he dislikes, his anger and lashing out at everything, and if we take his anime backstory as canon, the incident of being assaulted. looking at it invokes all these memories and it's painful to him

“absence of faith” you think he believes in anything after leaving the gang. you think he believes in HIMSELF? hell no he's got no faith in anything anymore.

“have my everything” oh no phf tieback again [gets shot] uughhhh i think im not seeing the deeper layers but stfu. i think devoting himself to one cause would give him a purpose and a will to live

“you tear down my reason…

…(Help me) you make me perfect

Help me become somebody else”

you already know what im gonna say.

he’s got all his doubts denied by giorno. i'm not idolising him it’s just from fugos perspective he’d definitely seem like one. (reaching alert 🚨) any self deprecation will be shot down in the name of healing, amen. “you make me perfect” the intertwining of their souls...uuhgh i'm not gonna go further with this cause thats so fanfic core and not relevant. //tears in my fugio eyes// “help me become somebody else” they're the new bruabba if that makes sense. (no it doesn’t)(reaching alert 🚨) abbacchio said he was at his best following orders and i feel like this might apply here. mindlessly obeying commands is becoming somebody else, no matter your feelings about it

“Through every forest

Above the trees

Within my stomach

Scraped off my knees

I drink the honey

Inside your hive

You are the reason

I stay alive”

theyve been through trials and tribulations. seriously

“I drink the honey / Inside your hive” i feel like fugo might feel like he's taking from giorno/passione. he feels guilty for accepting or asking for anything, even if it’d help or is necessary //me too// (reaching alert 🚨) “You are the reason / I stay alive” again, his tether to the world is that human connection. it's having someone accept him in the way that he needed to be accepted. (reaching alert 🚨)

thank you sooo much for reading my incoherent insanity bizarre adventure. sorry again for the reaches and text yelling. this is not edited and is very much written as if i was screaming in someone's dms. also, there might be some things i missed. 😔

please reblog and/or say something in replies, this is meant to provoke thoughts and discussions !

companion doodles… theyre not really related but whatever

fugio lps when

doodles on the left are from the 6 month gap (ace attorney ahh terminology)

[autistook]

AITA 🔞

So a few months ago a person I know through work that I was becoming friends with asked me out, I turned him down and it was fine. He was sometimes a bit draining because he kept telling me how much he hates himself, how sad he was if I didnt want to hang out or talk all the time, and I told him I feel uncomfortable talking 247 because I need my own space, that I'm not that social. He had our chat open at all times and it felt a little uncomfortable so I asked him about it, and he told me in kind of a shaming way that he has no other friends so he has to talk to me, but otherwise he seemed to understand. I did ask him to not do it because it made me feel pressured to see him read our chats immediately. I felt like I had to answer him immediately and it was overwhelming. He seemed to understand and changed his behavior.

Now.

He was drinking pretty excessively and used 400€ on alcohol in two days.

Now, I grew up with alcoholic parents, and I told him his excessive usage is making me worried and uncomfortable, especially considering he kept complaining about his financial situation. He told me he went to a food-aid thing and kept using money for alcohol.

Now, considering I also had drank excessively last year (because I had that partying phase like 5 years late) and because of all my trauma I saw where it was going and told him I didn't want to be in contact, told him my worries and that I can't deal with this energy in my mental state. Told him to contact me when he hopefully drinks less, that then I'll be all good to hang out again.

One day he messaged me "pretty hypocritical of you to call me out on drinking when you're drinking as well!" when he saw me and my friends having one drink per person in our regular bar where we play board games often, not even necessarily drinking anything with alcohol most of the time. He was apparently there in some corner as well.

I told him that I don't really appreciate his attacking me when I expressed my concern for him and my boundaries. He kept comparing my last years drinking and shaming me for it and telling me it's unfair of me to not want to be in contact and to call him out on his drinking if 'I've been the same way'. I told him that I never prioritized alcohol over food and that even if I did, I would have more the reason to stay away from that behavior to not relapse if it ever went that bad, and more the reason to express my concern if I saw the pattern repeat on someone I care for.

I also told him I had talked to my friends of how he talked to me on the matter and how even they were worried. He brushed it off.

Then he went: "Well, you went to fuck some random dude!"

Now, I had told him I do sex work sometimes. Very rarely, just a few times and its always been the same man and only when I'm financially struggling and need to eat and pay bills. Even if it was more often, who cares. It's just work.

I felt like he was slut shaming, so I called him out, wished him the best and finished the convo by saying "and fuck you :)" and blocked him.

Was I the asshole for this 😭 I feel kinda awful (been a few months and a few days ago I saw him at my job). Anyway, I kept feeling attacked when I was genuinely worried and tried to keep myself safe from an enviroment I saw as toxic and possibly harmful.

He is a very low self esteem personality and I feel bad for telling him to fuck off, but I felt really shamed and hurt for the comment he made on my sex work. I also felt like he completely disregarded my boundaries.

[hobiebrownismygod]

Heyyyy, friend.

This is kind of a personal request, slightly triggering to some people, but if you're willing (will completely understand if you're not) can you write head cannons for how ever many spider people you want seeing readers self harm scars for the first time?

Don't feel pressured, it's a hard topic to write. Take all the time you need,

Stay safe and I hope you a happy time

I wasn't sure if you wanted romantic or platonic, so I wrote romantic, since I tend to be better at it 😭 I hope you enjoy it! As always, thank you for requesting <3

Hobie Brown ✰

Hobie Brown was absolutely devastated. When he saw you pull up your baggy sleeves nonchalantly, revealing fresher-looking scars on your wrists, he immediately grabbed your hand, looking at it with a shocked expression on your face. He didn't process it at first, refusing to believe that his sweet girl/boy would ever think about hurting themself. The next thing he'd do is pull you into a hug, not even letting you explain yourself before his body completely enveloped yours and he was holding your face with his big, slightly watery eyes. "Why would you do this?" He'd whisper, giant hands covering yours as he ran his fingers over the mostly healed scars. "Promise me you won't do 't again, sunshine." he'd tell you, voice dropping and tone turning serious, something you rarely saw on him. "Don't hurt yourself." And when you'd nod, swearing you'd try to stop, a slight smile would spread across his face. "You know I love you, right?" He'd proceed to not let you out of his sight for the following weeks, just to make sure his darling was staying true to their promises.

Miles Morales (1610) ✰

Miles Morales wouldn't ask you upright. He'd stay silent about it for a few moments, trying to think of a way to talk to you about them without seeming like he was prying. Eventually, he'd coax you into telling him why exactly you'd hurt yourself and when you opened up, he'd nod silently and listen, absorbing all the feelings, all the pain, like the empath he was. He'd be so calm about it, big brown eyes fixated on yours, being the most tender and sympathetic towards you, although he was always like that. He'd make you promise to seek help, no matter how much you hated it. Afterwards, he'd do as much research as he could to find ways to make you feel safer, more loved, reading about it so much he practically became a licensed therapist overnight. When you'd try to brush his advice off, he'd practically shove his sources into your face, saying "Trust me, chocolate is supposed to make you feel better!" and etc, to the point where you had to make him promise to start doing his work, because he'd been focusing more on helping you than on his own classes.

Miles G. Morales (42) ✰

Miles G. Morales would understand. He'd had thoughts of his own at some points, following his dad's death. He help you bandage them up properly, show you how to disinfect them so that you didn't develop sepsis or some horrible infections, before gently kissing your hands and wrists all over, promising you, "it'll feel better soon." He'd make you lay down next to him, rubbing circles into your back and shoulders while you rested your head against his chest, just enjoying each others' presence. After a little while, you'd start opening up about it to him, and he'd kiss you on the forehead in between breaths, making sure his sunflower felt as loved as humanly possible.

Gwen Stacy ✰

Gwen Stacy would respond to seeing them with visible anger. Her voice would raise slightly, turn a little squeaky as she fought to stop herself from getting too emotional, knowing it might scare you. She hated the thought that her favorite person was hurting themselves and she blamed herself for it a little as well. She'd think to herself, maybe if I was a better girlfriend, they wouldn't feel the need hurt themselves. Maybe I wasn't loving enough? Caring enough? She'd overthink it to the point of it turning into a painful topic for the both of you, but once you sat down and had a conversation together, one that she tried to avoid for as long as possible, the night ended with the two of you cuddled together, laughing and crying in each others arms as the emotions simply spread out around you. You'd end up talking about this night for days to come, and it would only strengthen the love and bond between you two. After all, you were her rock, just like she was yours. You needed each other.

Pavitr Prabhakar ✰

Pavitr Prabhakar would be so terrified that he'd accidentally escalate the situation into an even worse one, begging you to let him take you to a hospital, even if the wounds weren't fresh. You'd tell him you were okay and that going to a hospital wasn't necessary but he'd be afraid to the point where he'd simply toss you over his shoulder and make his way towards the door. However, after seeing how much you didn't want anyone to find you, he'd begrudgingly sit you down, holding your hands in his and asking a million questions per minute, asking, "Why would you do this to yourself? Is it because of me? Are you okay? How long have you been doing this for? Does it hurt? Why didn't you tell me before? Have you told anyone-" etc, to the point where you literally have to close his mouth with your hand so you can explain yourself. At the end, he'd simply make you promise to never do it again, going as far as to have you sign a written document (that he scribbled out himself), just so you'd feel really bad if you ever tried to harm yourself again. For the following weeks, he'd keep looking at you weirdly, leaning over and taking your hand randomly to check on the scars and see if they were healing and to check for new ones, just to make sure you were sticking to your promise. "I can't let you hurt yourself, meri jaan-" he'd tell you. "I need you."

Please remember, self-harm is a serious topic and if you know anybody who is self-harming or is potentially considering suicide, or if you yourself are doing these things reach out to professionals and seek help. https://988lifeline.org

Taglist: @lauryn2558 @d0ubl-tr0ubl3 @vileviale @itsparis-07 @niqetine @daydreaming-en-pointe @l0starl @spiderrinn @therealloopylupin2099 @s6onder

[hazbinhazbinhazbinreblog]

HI!!! I’m super super new, and i just browsed through the tags for Dadstaticradio AU, CATCF AU and Radio Guard AU and need to say that i am sooo obsessed with them!! I certainly plan on browsing all the other AUs (especially secretly married AU, i am very excited about that one), but it is very late where i live (*cough* 1 AM *cough*) and i want to go to bed soon, so they’ll have to wait for tomorrow (well, “tomorrow”).

But before i do retire to bed, i would like to put my own two cents in, because i am soo happy i found a place where i can finally share my little ideas and stories!! (I do hope i don’t annoy anyone, I apologize if i do 😭).

Basically, it’s a radiostatic AU. Of course. And it might sound a lot similiar to the secretly married AU from what i gathered about it, but how i mentioned earlier, i haven’t checked that one out yet + this AU has been brewing in my head for maybe like… two weeks??

It goes with the trope of Alastor and Vox getting married way before Alastor disappears for 7 years. I’m not sure if they’d be exactly public, but i like to imagine they would like to keep their relationship to themselves but wouldn’t be exactly insistent on hiding it either. But, that isn’t the main thing about this AU.

The plot revolves all around Alastor’s disappearance. The reason why he disappeared in the first place.

Because of Vox.

And let me get this straight, i do not have this fleshed out at ALL. Like, it’s just a little concept i have. But the premise is that maybe some really powerful Overlord wants to take advantage of Alastor and his power, and make Alastor work for them. They would be trying to find Alastor’s weakness, because goddammit everyone has one, so what’s his deal? but being unsuccessful for a long time. Until one day, they notice Alastor’s interaction with Vox. And they start observing them. Which leads them to conclude that, Vox is Alastor’s weakness. So they build this really elaborate plan, where they threaten Alastor that if he doesn’t work for them, they’ll bring harm to Vox. Alastor tries to find out an escape at first, but the Overlord has been preparing for a long time for this and that leaves Alastor with no other choice than to comply.

So, Alastor finds himself in a deal. His soul for Vox’s safety. The Overlord doesn’t wait any longer and takes Alastor to god knows where, making him disappear for 7 years. And the worst part? Alastor isn’t allowed to tell Vox anything, lest he reveals his deal and risks Vox safety.

At first, Vox is worried for Alastor. Because what if something happened to him? But he later acknowledges, through his bond with Alastor (i kind of hc that when u marry someone in hell, you bind your soul to them) that Alastor is completely fine and (relatively?!?) safe. Making Vox believe that Alastor just straight up left without a word. So he grows angry and frustrated and swears Alastor as his enemy (even though he could never actually hate him. Not his Alastor. It’s just the hurt speaking). And when Alastor comes back, he’s not met with love, but with blind rage.

So, for both his and Vox’s sake, he plays along. Pretends to be Vox’s biggest rival and enemy. Even though it hurts more than he could ever imagine.

Hi !! Always v happy to hear new people are enjoying things, and dw no one is annoying here, all ideas are welcome

"Vox is Alastor's weakness" punched me in the chest /pos, I'm such a sucker for self-sacrifice especially if the second person doesn't understand why they did it

Also the idea of marriage in hell being a soul bond is so. Amazing. I have no words for it

Love this love this

[karolinswritings]

Mustang with reader who has paranoia, like they’re constantly scared someone is trying to backstab them or that something bad will happen....I have constant paranoia that every good thing will end and that everyone secretly hates me 😭

Hey! I apologise for the horribly late reply to your request. After a few months of a pause in posting in this blog, I am happy to finally be back! Thank you for the request, I sincerely appreciate it! ^^

Fullmetal Alchemist SFW Headcanons: Roy Mustang X Paranoic Reader

To begin with, Mustang is a very well-trained and experienced soldier, so when it comes to his own safety he is sure that he can handle any possible threat at all times.

When it comes to Reader's safety though, the situation is slightly different. He knows that it is physically impossible to be around them at all times, so he will surely call them regularly to make sure that they are safe, and most importantly - that they are feeling safe, as paranoia can cause fear of threat even if there is no threat at all.

When Roy and Reader are together, he would always reassure them, as many times as he has to. I see him as the understanding type, so no matter how many times Reader mentions that they are feeling scared or threatened, he would reassure them that he is around, and in his presence they are safe at all times. Something along the lines of:

-" I understand how you're feeling, Dear. I am here, right next to you. I have got my eye on you. So trust me - I will be the first to notice if something that could put your life at risk is about to happen. And I am sure you yourself are aware that I will handle the situation within seconds. So don't sweat it. If you feel worried again, just look at me and remind yourself that I am here. Trust me - with me by your side, you couldn't be safer."

In case Reader turns out to be right and someone does attempt to harm them, for example a robber, and Roy happens to be around, the whole scene would meet an end in less than a minute. He wouldn't hesitate to have the robber down to the ground, a gun muzzle pressed against his head.

Usually though, Mustang would handle situations like this unarmed - with his abilities in martial arts - just to show off that he doesn't even need the assistance of a weapon, let alone alchemy.

That is in the case of Reader being around Mustang. At the times when Roy is at work, carrying out an assigned mission or is simply not around Reader, he would not want them to feel scared or weak. To achieve that, he would teach them some easy form of self-deffence techniques that they can use just in case. He would definitely do his best to make the learning process as entertaioning and enjoyable as possible too - letting Reader defeat him and throw him around to raise their confidence.

[criticallyacclaimedstranger]

Hi!!!!! Again!!!

I was wondering if could get something with reader and Frankie being intimate for the first time and reader is nervous bc she has SH scars?

Or conversely, if writing about that is uncomfortable, reader gets nightmares?? I suffer from horrific nightmares bc trauma and wish I had someone to hold me when I had them 😭

If none of this speaks to you there’s 0 pressure, I hope you have a great day and I look forward to reading more Frankie!!! You write him so well

Thank you for the request, @romanarose and I'm sorry you had to wait so long! I wanted to go witht he first option and it's a difficult topic, I didn't want to get it wrong. I hope you like it <3

Frankie x f!reader

Warnings: PTSD, former trauma, former self harm, scars, Frankie Morales is Consent King, first time having sex (with each other, no one is a virgin here), nudity, kissing. All is soft and well <3

Words: 1,123

It’s not like you hadn’t thought about it. You thought about it a lot, in fact: every time you met someone new, you had to face the fact that there were so many chances for them to run for the hills. Or not understand. Or the worst yet: add to your trauma, worsen your injuries, break you even more.

Frankie seemed okay. You learned very quickly that he had his own demons: he shared his history of PTSD and drug abuse early on. Visibly nervous but with a clear voice and a firm eye contact, he told you a condensed version which ended with him reassuring you that he understood if you wanted to stop seeing him, that he knew that this was a lot to handle. You could just part ways amicably.

You shook your head and said that you had a dark past of your own, but you weren’t ready to share yet. He accepted that, and that same night, he asked you if he could kiss you. It was the first kiss you two shared, and it was sweet and full of promise.

Each time you saw him, hung out with him, kissed him, you knew that you were coming to this: you were going to have to get naked before him, and he would learn what your trauma had made you do to yourself. The shame was still there, even if therapy had helped a lot. But being naked with someone new was always daunting, and your scars just made it worse. You couldn’t even ease him into it because teenage you had been devious enough not to blemish your wrists, no, your whole history was mapped out on your thighs in a criss-cross of short, white lines.

And when that evening comes, and you’re making out on Frankie’s couch, his heavy yet comforting weight on you, his hard cock pressing against your through his jeans and yours, you feel it in your searing hot and sopping wet core that it’s going to have to happen. You can’t wait any longer: you want him, desperately, heart-achingly, completely.

He pulls his mouth from yours when you start to work his shirt off him.

”Are you sure?” he asks you breathlessly, eyes dark with desire yet softly searching your face. ”I don’t want to pressure you.”

”I’m sure,” you confirm, just as short of breath as he is, and embarrassingly eager to see his naked chest, to embrace him and find out what it feels like to be with him, skin to skin.

Frankie sits up and takes his shirt off, and you are free to caress the naked skin beneath. You sit up as well and trace your lips along the warm skin, kiss him over his wildly beating heart, his soft moan telling you just how good it feels to him.

Your top and bra follow his shirt onto the floor and Frankie's prickly chin is tickling the soft, sensitive flesh of your breasts as he flicks his tongue over your hardening nipples. Not until you are mewling does he come up for a sweet yet teasing kiss, before trailing his lips down between your breasts, over your stomach, all the way down to your bottoms. You lift your ass to make it easier for him to pull them down, and Frankie kisses every inch of revealed skin before him.

Then he stops, and you realize that he's seeing them. Your scars. You wet your lips nervously and start to stammer out explanations and excuses, but Frankie comes up to silence you with another gentle kiss.

"Can I take off the rest of your clothes?" he asks, his voice warm and sincere, and you nod mutely. Naked before him, more nervous about your scars than your body, you can barely look him in the eye. You try to still your shaking limbs but can't, your nerves having taken control over your twitching muscles.

"I used to cut myself," you finally offer quietly. "And I did it on my thighs so nobody would know."

Frankie has his big, warm, palm on your knee, and he's just silently regarding you. Relieved, you note that he doesn't seem disgusted or shocked, just... sad. Sympathetic, as if he had personal knowledge of that crippling anxiety that drove you to use a razorblade on yourself, time and time again.

"I'm sorry you had to do that," he eventually says. "I'm sorry you were made to feel that bad."

You try to shrug. "It was a long time ago. I'm better now."

"I'm very glad about that."

His smile is so gentle that it hurts your heart, and you press a smile back, but your lower lip is trembling. You're still shivering, your body a mess of arousal, shot nerves, and hope.

"Is this okay?" you want to know, your voice wavering slightly. "It's not too ugly?"

"Sweetheart," Frankie immediately pulls you into his chest, "nothing about you is ugly." He kisses the top of your head, his hand moving in soothing circles on your back. "You're beautiful, and you make the world beautiful."

You blink hysterically but the tears still rise and spill down your cheeks. "So do you, Frankie."

He hears the sob in your voice and kisses your wet cheeks before laying you down and peppering your neck with kisses.

"Can I touch them? The scars?"

"Uh-huh." You don't trust your voice to carry, but Frankie smiles comfortingly at you, and you cup his cheek, let your fingers wander and get lost in his thick, soft locks.

Your thigh muscles are tense when he brushes his lips to the first scar, but for each little show of love for the marks that you gave yourself during the darkest part of your life, you relax. Your heartbeat returns to the apex of your thighs, and you know you're slick down there, but Frankie doesn't go there, not yet, but instead focuses on instilling your scars with his devotion. You let him lull you into complete security and relaxation. You even close your eyes and sigh out your breath in a low, happy hum. He finds your hand and braids his fingers with yours, his thumb slowly stroking the back of your hand.

Your eyes blink open when he says your name. He's smiling at you, the beautiful crow's feet gathering at the corners of his warm, pretty eyes.

"You okay?" he wants to know. You nod, sitting back up and reaching for the fly of his jeans.

"I need you now."

"You got me."

When he finally sinks into you there is no longer any trace of shame left, only desire and a budding love that you somehow know will last for a long, long time.

[creepy-spooghetti]

I loved your autistic little sister headcanons for cody and toby!

Possibly one for Masky + EJ, an autistic little sister (15/16 years). And level 1/2 asd?

A bit self indulgent 😭 but i loved the headcanons

Aaa, I'm so glad you enjoyed them that much 😭

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Masky

Masky was created as a separate identity from Tim solely to do the Operator's bidding, but he still has to deal with many aspects of Tim's life. You are one of these 'aspects'.

It isn't as if you are a constant pest or anything, and you can certainly fend for yourself under most circumstances, so Masky never really bothered hating you, or even severely disliking you. You were just Tim's sister; nothing more, nothing less. Yet, having to be around you often gradually made him feel something different. Something akin to fondness. Something...protective and foreign.

He grew to care for you, somehow. You innocently, unintentionally wormed your way into his heart over time, strolling right through the gates like you owned the place. And now, he supposed, you did. At least to a degree.

Because he views you as family, you manage to get away with a lot more things than anyone else could ever dream about—most of them are very benign, such as asking questions, or sassing him on occasion, or some type of physical gesture, like leaning against him or messing with his hair or even just flicking him. He would absolutely annihilate anyone else, but he just can't find it within himself to bring you harm.

If a single person ever does anything remotely 'not nice' to you, or even alludes to it, best be certain Masky will have something to say about it. He has this instinctive urge to just...keep you safe, and out of emotional distress, in whatever way he possibly can. He doesn't understand why or how he can love you when he doesn't love anything, but he realized that fighting it does nothing, so he merely succumbs to it.

Eyeless Jack

When Jack was permanently, unwillingly transformed into the creature he is now, he didn't remember much of anything. His life was a blur, his friends were distant recollections, and the only thing he could seem to focus on was the untameable fury coursing through his veins.

But then you showed up in his mind again and he felt all the love and protectiveness he ever possessed for you times ten. Suddenly, you were the sole focus in his thoughts. The only thing that mattered, was you.

Jack is not naturally an aggressive person, but throw in someone who's treated you poorly into the mix? Rest assured they are no longer safe. This man will work so, so hard to protect you, and has on so many occasions. Your presence is the only thing that gives him real, true happiness. He feels like he has a purpose with you around instead of convincing himself he's utter garbage.

You have had to talk him out of many-a breakdowns, however, when he starts worrying for your wellbeing. He doesn't want to accidentally hurt you one day. He's stuck between a rock and a hard place: keep you with him, or toss you to the wolves. He would never do the latter, but sometimes he can't help but wonder if you are truly safe around him. He knows he's capable of horrendous things, things he can't control, and the very idea terrifies him for your sake.

Yet there's no doubt in anyone's mind that he would sacrifice everything, anyone, to make sure you're okay. You are his lifeline, and he is yours, and you'd never have it any other way.

[dontlookheswatching]

Okay! Ref sheet number one is done! This took like a entire DAY It was NOT supposed to take this long so I hope this is worth all that time😭

A version with scars are shown!

There’s also mentions of drugs and self harm, so please take this note as a TW. Some of the scars on the other version below the cut have a few visible self harm scars, so please beware if any of this stuff triggers you.

Ben Drowned

•Pansexual and goes by he/they(Demi Boy).

•5’0, perhaps one of the shortest adults you’ll ever meet. He’s 21, and his birthday is on April 23rd.

•His eyes don’t always bleed. Only when he’s upset, stressed, or crying. If he’s really upset, he’ll produce more tears that are black and taste like ink. •He has wings and tail feathers that support flight, although he doesn’t know how to fly. Both are due to the fact he’s supposed to be an angel, but due to Slenderman interfering, it never happened. He doesn’t clip his wings, so they’re huge, to where he has to use magic to hide them and his tail feathers.(My Ben is nothing related to BEN. I have very different stories and headcanons that make it impossible for me to intercept BEN into my version of Ben. The BEN Arg has nothing to do with my version of Ben is simpler words, as my Ben is my own revamped version of Benjamin Lawman.)

•One of the most likable creeps alongside Toby.

•He’s a femboy. I will not elaborate.

•He has several different aesthetics, two of his favorites being Scene and Grunge.

•He doesn’t celebrate his birthday, but others do. He doesn’t celebrate it for a few reasons; One being as a child his father never bothered to celebrate his birthday, least of all tell him “happy birthday”. This has led Ben to commonly forgetting his own birthday. Another reason is because it’s also the same day he died. He doesn’t mind if the other creeps celebrate his birthday, even if it’s kinda awkward for him, just as long as there’s no one celebrating his death. That’ll cause a fight in seconds.

•He’s in charge of anything that has to do with technology. If a creep has questions, or maybe some this isn’t working correctly, they go to Ben. Ben is also in charge of things such as security camera footage, hacking into government files, police records, and other stuff similar. He also provides creeps with information about their missions, specifically any details about a victim they might need to know, such as the victims address. •His voice constantly and randomly distorts and glitches, as well as his body. His voice will distort and glitch more when he’s having extreme emotions, and it sometimes gets to the point where no one can understand him except Jeff and other glitchpastas. Think Lolbit from FNAF as a example.

•He tends to float and levitate to seem taller.

•He’s Japanese American, and is fluent is Japanese. He can be found talking in Japanese when he forgets no one else really understands him, or when he’s scared, he might scream out something in Japanese.

•Despite being a entity that literally torments people into offing themselves and scaring them shitless he’s actually easily frightened. Creeps love to scare him because of this because he has a high pitched scream and he’ll start glitching out.

•He likes to paint his nails. He even sometimes lets Nina do his nails, but not too often, because she tends to give him acrylics, and everytime one breaks he almost cries.

•He’s a stoner. He used to smoke weed and do drugs when he was a teenager and in his super early 20’s, and it used to be a really big problem. He’s gotten better since then, and only allows himself to smoke weed if he’s stressed or having a awful day. He no longer does drugs. Another issue he had really bad was self harm. He hardly does that anymore either. He also has several mental disorders and other problems he struggles with, but I might cover that in a different post, or a possible ask if anyone decides to ask questions.

That’s all for the first ref sheet! The next one is for Jeff, and it’ll probably take just as long as this one did or maybe longer, because I’m still working on multiple things as I’m doing these, such as a relationship chart, and organizing my messy headcanons for these refs😭

[botanicalcanopus]

Okay. I know you said you don't do session analysis’ as a blog, so there are absolutely no stakes/expectations here and I’m cool if you ignore this ask or just say no. But do you want to have a crack at how a session with my OCs would go? They’re all brothers.

It’s with a;

Prince of Heart

Knight of Time

Thief of Space

Mage of Mind

(The matching classpects with two canon characters was a complete accident 😭)

I don't mind to try! I will preface this by saying this for anyone who has never encountered my rambling: I believe that classpects (while useful for determinating some fun facts about the character) depend entirely on the characters personalities. Essentially meaning just because we've seen a Prince of Heart in the comic doesn't mean they're gonna be exactly like Dirk.

So starting off, I will say your session has a Time and Space player so it's a viable session (yippee!). The down side to this is that you have more at stake and boy howdy your OCs classpects (without knowing their full personalities) are gonna be constantly treading the line here. Not that their classpects are bad, in fact, they have a really great skill set but the cost is that most of these classpects are prone to mistakes that could cost lots of time and energy (or their lives if shit hit the fan).

A Prince of Heart that is still learning to use their powers or have an uncontrollable attitude can pull a Dirk and splinter themselves to exhaustion, or possibly other co-players if they're not careful. Lots of emotional tampering (by accident or not) will be likely even if it's just "making logical statements".

Your Thief of Space may end up stealing Space (literally or metaphorically) from their brothers and this can be something from storing things in others rooms/inventory or worst case scenario they go full villain and essentially vacuum pack someone. Their whole deal is to find their own path with Space rather than having to rely on what's stolen, which if they are too self absorbed or self isolating they may not achieve.

Now Mages of Mind are also the over rational sort, which isn't bad altogether. However in this scenario, you're already given a splintering emotional time bomb who needs to find themselves and a player whose ego and powers rely on theft. So someone who struggles with understanding why they have to be so logical all the time or doesn't even know/want to plan ahead is also gonna throw a wrench in plans if they don't get support they need to understand their potential and how their braniac skills can better everyone's lives.

Finally, the Knight of Time is our double edged sord here. Knights usually cover up their feelings of inadequacy by ghost the opposite aspect. So while this person may be helpful when they do act, they tend to ghost Space and be all distant and might even be like Dave and put up a cool persona even if they're wrought with anxiety. They'll have to come to accept that their abilities are incredibly useful and that they are so much more than what they believe they are.

So best case scenario: through trials and tribulations, the brothers will eventually learn to depend on each other. The Knight can get some pep talks from the Thief while the Mage and Prince can talk them through logically how it's dumb they feel that way about themselves when they're so cool. The Knight can give their bros all the time they need to work through any emotional out burst or fits of other thinking, and the Thief learns to aid others for once by providing comfort (environments, food, materials, etc). In the meantime the Thief gets all the support with finding themselves and becoming their own person rather than a copy paste persona.

Worst case scenario: Jesus the amount of failed timelines. Like shit does this Knight have it cut out for him. Any too big emotional burst from the Prince can cause literal frenzy or rip their souls (maybe actually doing harms with some sick burns). The Thief if ticked off enough may straight up avoid everything and do whatever they want to do without any input. The Mage can become too lax and not want to deal with solving any questions that makes them think too hard and tank every personal relationship by being too logical. And the Knight might end up like one of the Dave's who just exist in a failed session because they gave into their self doubt and couldn't rise to the challenge.

Lots of warnings but honestly if they act like a good family and talk it out they have really decent odds. This is said without knowing what they'd prototype but these things have a character limit lol. I hope this is something along the lines you were looking for, if not sorry!