#like as someone who has ptsd with sa

[melobin]

have you heard of the news? and to say that ive never expected him to be like that shows that there are much more criminals in the industry tbh.. we never know whats behind someone

yeah honestly i hope they all get exposed and i hope they all rot in hell and die idgaf about these criminals they don’t deserve to live

[mrshesh]

i saw on your rules that you don’t write hardcore nsfw, so im gonna try to stay tame LOL

how would ghost be in bed? i feel like im so conflicted about this topic

ghost in bed - simon "ghost" riley x reader

overview: how simon "ghost" riley would be like in bed

pairing: simon "ghost" riley x gender neutral reader, romantic

genre: smut, fluff

a/n: i'm actually so passionate about this topic. he's very misrepresented in our fandom, so i'd like to give my two cents regarding this topic. thanks for the request, anon!

TW! mentions of SA, abuse, suicide, and torture. proceed with caution.

Contrary to popular belief, he is not the rough dom everyone makes him out to be. He wouldn’t slap or spit on you. He wouldn’t push your head into the mattress and call you the filthiest words that come to mind - no, he’d be gentle, careful, and loving. 

Simon has been through hell and back - he knows what it feels like to be hurt better than anyone. Physically, verbally, emotionally, and psychologically, you name it! He knows it all, so he doesn’t get off on it. 

His past is extremely gut-wrenching. He got betrayed by everyone, even his own team. He got tortured for months and months on end, to the point where he got severe PTSD and anxiety. He suffers from nightmares and panic attacks and has even tried to take his own life. We also know that he got SA’d in the past, in the months he got gravely tortured. (Reading the comic was seriously terrifying.)

The fact that his father was abusive isn’t helping his case, either. 

And on top of that, he dislikes exposing his body and face. 

So best believe he’s only sleeping with you when you fully trust each other.

And when he does have sex with you, my god, it’s gentle. 

He loves missionary and sitting cowgirl. Being able to hold you close, look you in the eyes, kiss your cheeks, and press his forehead against yours - those things he’d do during sex, not choke you till you pass out.

He has lost everything he has ever loved, so losing what he loves the most, you, is out of the question for him. And that results in him being extremely cautious while having sex. He’s terrified of scaring you away. 

He whispers sweet nothings in your ear constantly. “I love you so much.” “Takin’ me so well.” “You’re so beautiful.” 

His face is redder than a tomato. Having intimacy with someone he loves is a pretty new thing to him, so his cheeks are painted a light pink from the get-go. 

The aftercare consists of soft kisses, compassionate touches as he cleans you up, and praise, so much praise. 

The moral of the story - he's a gentle giant who's absolutely terrified to lose you, despite his hard rock exterior.

this turned dark really quick, but it had to be said.

[bonkingcat]

might be a bit odd or a stretch and written poorly by me (sorry if its rambly basically) but mithrun has such interesting but devastating symbolism and importance for a message in dunmeshi.

(TW SA/ABUSE MENTIONS)

the goat (demon) being an abusive relationship that to you who is in it only sees a nice perfect person doing anything for you, only for things to slowly get worse and worse… leading to SA (it’s not actual SA but the imagery has subtle implications of it) and other forms of physical and psychological abuse.

this leaving mithrun in an intense state of depression, ptsd and other issues like getting mana sickness really easily, which is also connected to the physical disabilities he got from said abuse. and due to these states he finds he can not desire anything anymore, he can only feel empty, not even a desire to get help and only feels a strong anger to the person and tries to prevent anyone else from going through the same.

but he’s not a lost cause.

“so.. even vegetable scraps have their uses, huh?”

he blames himself for his trauma, he sees himself as worthless and not one to be desired anymore because of what he went through. and realizing this, realizing that he actually has grown a desire to BE desired even just in a simple way to be needed (helping with falin) he finally can crack through that depression. the ptsd is still there, the physical disabilities are still there, but through surrounding himself with community of people with different views and trauma has helped him realize he is not broken and shouldn’t be blaming himself for something that was out of his control.

he wants to do new things, he wants to live now and it’s so beautiful to see.

plus, as kabru says here how the desires being eaten is not what it seems like is such an interesting fact. sure the demon ate his desires he had in that moment, making him believe he could never desire again but in fact he could get new desires (change/grow/heal) plus, traveling with kabru, he did show desires whether they be small or not.

in this moment he showed full horror about this memory. now if he was loss of desire, then he shouldn’t even desire to feel fear about this right? shouldn’t he only feel anger due to the revenge? which once again, shows his whole healing journey.

he’s such a great character with so much representation, and in turn is also a character that can show hope for someone like thistle who now is going through similar things and is practically hospitalized.

there is hope, you will heal, you are gonna be okay and your trauma is real but it does not shape you as a person, you are safe now.

dunmeshi is such a great depiction of that

[fatkish]

Hi!! 🐶 anon here. Was wondering if I could request a sort-of sequel to the last fic I requested? Like the reader after being rescued by him has separation anxiety from him and their therapist recommended for now reader stays close by him, so he’s taking a break from hero work, but for teaching he just brings reader along? So basically 1-a seeing reader being clingy and stuff with Aizawa. Maybe they experience a PTSD episode, idk. Just something like that! Take ur time with this request ^^;;

Aizawa x SA Victim Reader Part 2

After going to a therapist for a few months, the therapist decided that it would probably be best to slowly reintroduce you to social situations

Since Aizawa was the only person who you seemed to trust wholly and entirely, your therapist suggested that he work with you

The first few activities were simple enough

A walk in the park, literally, you both held hands or stuck together as you spent an hour in the public space

The next was a picnic in the park, Aizawa had made Bentos for the both of you. They had chicken Katsu on top of fried rice and for sides he put stir fired vegetables and some seaweed wrapped tamagoyaki. He brought a blanket with you guys as well as drinks and you both sat together and ate your lunches

Plenty of women would giggle seeing such a cute seen of a father and daughter

After a couple of these outages your therapist suggested slightly more densely populated areas

So your next adventure was grocery shopping with Aizawa. He promised you that you didn’t need to worry or feel paranoid because he’d be watching your back

You were slightly anxious when walking down aisles that other people were in but you simply held Aizawa’s hand and persevered

After each outing Aizawa would give you a soft smile and tell you how well you did and how he’s so proud of you

If you panic or freak out, he’ll pick you up and have you focus on him, and tell you that you’re safe because you’re with him and he won’t let anything hurt you

During one of the grocery trips, a kind old lady remarked about how cute it was seeing a little girl with her dad

After giving you a compliment the old lady offered you a candy to which you looked at Aizawa to see if it was okay. He smiled and gently nudged you forward and you accepted it and thanked the lady.

After a few more outings at places like grocery stores, restaurants, the mall basically just any place where people are closer together, and after having a few interactions with people, your therapist thought it was time to focus on social interactions

For this, Aizawa begrudgingly agreed to getting you a service/guard dog. Basically the dog would stay at your side and alert to any potential threats and lead you away. If you had a panic attack, the dog would sit or lay on you and help ground you. If someone tried to attack you, there were specific words in a foreign language that would tell the dog to attack

Now that you had this dog, Aizawa decided it was time he returned to teaching

The first thing he did was introduce you to the teachers. Coincidentally, Vlad kind had brought his bulldog in that day. You immediately warmed up to his dog and was somewhat okay with him since he kinda looked like his dog

Later you met Nedzu who you immediately had the urge to pet. Aizawa thought Nedzu would be mad when you pet his head and asked if he was Mickey Mouse’s cousin

Nedzu laughed and smiled not bothered at all by your curiosity, infact, Nedzu was more than happy to help teach you and satisfy your curious mind

After a few days getting to know the school, Aizawa decided to introduce you to his class

This is when things went south

Despite having warned his students (particularly a certain grape head) about your past and to be careful with their words, some obviously didn’t get the memo

Upon entering the class, many had greeted you which spooked you a bit

The first students you were comfortable with were Asui, Momo, Koda and Todoroki

Asui and Momo seemed very mellow and almost motherly in their calm and relaxed demeanors. Todoroki was quite and greeted you once but then seemingly ignored you which actually made you feel good because you felt that it meant he wouldn’t come after you. Koda was quite but your dog seemed to like him which is why you trusted him

The students had tried not to scare you but Iida, Bakugou, Ashido, Uraraka, Kirishima and Kaminari had spooked you

Ashido had practically jumped on you telling you how cute you were which scared you, Uraraka, and Iida were really loud which scared you. Kirishima didn’t really understand personal space to which Kaminari tried to tell him off, albeit, a bit loudly, which them prompted Bakugou to use his quirk setting off explosions and yelling at everyone to shut up cause they’re obviously scaring you

When the class went quiet it allowed for you to hear what Mineta had said

Of couse, he had to make a comment about how hot you’d look in a few years as he imagined you with a curvaceous body whilst making a lewd face and drooling

This triggered you

Bakugou immediately slammed his hand down on Mineta’s desk setting of small explosions and yelling at him

You started to hyperventilate and ran away to Nedzu’s office since he made you feel calm

When Nedzu saw your upset state he made you some tea and offered you some cookies while he asked you yes or no questions

Whilst Nedzu calmed you down and talked with you, Aizawa yelled at his students and decided that something had to be done with Mineta. Once he managed to get his class back under control, he was about to deal out punishments when the door opened with Nedzu in front and you behind him

You ran to Aizawa and he immediately wrapped his arms around you. Nedzu then walked into the room and nodded at Aizawa, giving him permission (read as kindly ordered him) to leave the room

As Aizawa cradled you and walked you to the teacher’s lounge to settle you down, Nedzu asked the class what happened and after lecturing them for 2 hours, Nedzu finished his lecture by Expelling Mineta and blacklisting him from any hero courses

That night, Aizawa made sure to have your favorite food for dinner and made sure that you felt safe and gave you all the cuddles you could ask for

(Hope you enjoyed this puppy 🐶 anon. And I hope it helps)

[alpaca-clouds]

BG3 fans, we gotta talk CPTSD

Okay, I have spend about a week considering writing this blog, but I really gotta say, that it is something people really need to understand. See, I mostly see this issue with Astarion and his depiction in fandom. However, I would argue that it is a thing that affects literally all characters that play some sort of bigger in this entire game. Including many NPCs.

But let me start with Astarion. See, I wrote the blog two weeks ago about people being judgy on people, who do not want to have graveyard sex with him. Mostly people will argue how Astarion should be allowed to have his agency in that moment - while I argued that whoever the player is playing should have also agency in that scene. Including the agency to say "no" for whatever reason. I also included that my Tav absolutely denied Astarion, because he was not trusting that Astarion in the scene really was ready for it, for a variety of reasons. Which is very much a valid reason for someone not to want to sleep with someone else. (Literally every reason is a good reason for that, mind you.)

And obviously there came the comment, that went basically: "As someone who was raped I am very appalled by you saying that raped people cannot consent." Which is very much not what I said.

What I said was, that my Tav did not consent. Yes, he did not consent because he thought Astarion was not ready for it - but he is the one not consenting. It does not matter for this whether his assumption about Astarion is true or not. Tav does not feel comfortable in the scene, so Tav does not want sex right there.

However... If you consider the drow orgy scene, Tav is also very much right. If you do that scene after defeating Cazador, Astarion is enthusiastically consenting to that orgy, but he still ends up dissociating during the scene. (And in that scene, even if your character notices it, you cannot go "Stop!" Which I hate.)

Here is the thing. If you are in the BDSM scene, you might actually have encountered a scenario in real life where someone was enthusiastically consenting to something - only to them realize, that they were not into it at all. And people can withdraw their consent IRL at this point. Only that in this game, obviously you can't. So within the game choices I will just start out with "no" for this character.

Still, that is actually not what I mainly wanted to talk about. No.

What I wanted to talk about is the other thing. I absolutely know that for a variety of reasons a lot of SA survivors do identify with Astarion, and I do not want to take that from anyone. I think it is amazing that we got a character with whom we see this issue portrayed seriously. And let's face it. Especially in tumblr fandom circles, we will have a lot of SA survivors, because the userbase of this website is majority afab, and many are queer. And we know from statistics that queer afab people are even more likely than non-queer afab people to experience SA at some point in there life. So, yes, Astarion is going to be embraced by this community makes sense - even without his dashing looks.

But here we get to the actual meat of the issue: Astarion was not just raped. Astarion was abused in a variety of ways - some of them sexual - over the course of 200 years. He went not through a single traumatic event, but an ongoing trauma that, again, lasted for 200 years.

Or to put different: Astarion does not have PTSD. He has C-PTSD. Complex trauma. The kind of trauma that develops when the trauma lasts over a long, long time, without the survivor getting a chance to ever really properly ever relax. Something that was very true for Astarion's time under Cazador. He was under constant threat of rape, torture, and other forms of violence.

While CPTSD is a form of PTSD, it has some differing symptoms - and additional symptoms from plain old PTSD.

I found this graphic on this blog here, and found it fairly good in the depictions. (If you google CPTSD you will find several graphics like this.) It shows very well the additional symptoms, compared to normal trauma.

Generally speaking, CPTSD brings a lot stronger issues with self-worth, interpersonal problems, and emotional regulation. CPTSD folks are often prone to emotional outbursts (this graphic names anger, but technically it can be all other kinds of emotional outbursts - which is why at times CPTSD gets confused with BPD).

And Astarion is written like this. He shows very much all the symptoms of CPTSD. And let's be honest: That is an issue he will have to deal with for a long, long while.

But... As I said, the same is actually true for pretty much all the characters.

If you look at the companions, it is obvious.

Gale spent at least a year in constant fear of blowing up. While Mystra's abusiveness towards him within the relationship prior the orb is more fanon than canon (though the relationship was defnitely not an easy one), the "one year in constant fear of death" is very likely going to instill some form of CPTSD in him.

Karlach was a slave for 10 years, forced to fight in the hells. While she will also probably suffer from certain forms of PTSD more common in soldiers. Additionally I would argue that she also has some CPTSD from tiefling-racism. While she does not bring it up often... She does seem to have a thing there.

With Wyll it is a bit more complicated. Yes, for him I would see the kind of CPTSD I have - parental abuse related. Ulder was not openly abusive, but neither was my mother, and guess what fucked me most up in my childhood, despite experiencing some really bad violence elsewhere.

Shadowheart was abused by Viconia and midwashed and tortured and was forced to kill her fucking pet mouse. Bonus points that a lot of it happened during her childhood. She very much is gonna suffer the consequences.

Lae'zel... Do I really need to say something about her upbringing among the Gith?

Then we have Halsin. We know fairly little about his background, given that he is very coy in talking about it. But his "three years as a drow slave" definitely make it likely that he has developed some form of CPTSD.

And then we have Jaheira and Minsc. For whom just the... Well, look folks, the adventuring lifestyle would logically also leave you with CPTSD of some sort.

Even if you play a Tav who entered the game after having a very untraumatic life... They will spent what has to be at least two months with a tadpole in their head threatening to kill them - while half of Baldur's Gate is trying to do the same. They'll have PTSD after this at the very least, if not CPTSD. (Even though, let's face it, chances are we all gave our Tavs more than enough background trauma to go along with it, right?)

And same goes for so many other characters. The tiefling refugees. Our main villains (especially Gortash and Orin). Cazador. The other vampire spawn (duh). The list goes on.

So, what am I trying to say here?

Well, for once I just want to make sure folks understand that CPTSD is a thing that exists and while being similar to normal PTSD differs in some points. Including the fact that people with CPTSD have a high likelihood to make very rash decisions driven by instable emotional states, that might be harmful to them on the long run.

And mind you. In real life most people with CPTSD have it because either they were bullied for a long time, or were in an abusive relationship of some sort. (Abusive parents, abusive partners, abusive friends/roommates.) But even in those heightened scenarios the game represents for the most part - the issues are gonna be still mainly the same.

[vidavalor]

Yes, Crowley's expression here is hilarious and always worth a post in its own right 😊 but I thought I'd share something about what he's doing with his hand for anyone who is unfamiliar with that particular gesture, as it has a name and a purpose that goes along with a few other scenes in the series. It's also a good strategy in real life for anyone experiencing anxiety and might want another tool in their toolbox for it.

TWs: anxiety; trauma; PTSD; brief, indirect mention of SA.

For a lot of people who get something on their hands and are exploring the texture of it, the inclination would be to rub together the thumb and the index finger. Crowley's unique use of his fingers isn't just a sorcery thing, though, as what he is doing in this scene-- touching his thumb to his middle finger-- has a name amongst us humans.

It's called shuni mudra.

If you meditate or practice yoga, you have likely heard of mudras, which are different ways of positioning the hands to use the fingers to create a seal that directs prana-- aka energy flow-- in different ways throughout the body. Shuni mudra is done to generate a sense of calm and patience-- especially patience with the self. It is a hand gesture done as a way to help regulate the heart, circulatory & nervous systems and is most commonly used to counter anxiety. Like with any mudra, you don't have to do it in the midst of a yoga or a meditation session but can make the gesture just whenever you feel the need, as Crowley did in the scene above. If you give it a try, you'll probably find that it is surprisingly relaxing for such a simple gesture.

Crowley's outsized startle response to getting hit with the paint is very funny but it is also pretty typical of someone with PTSD-- especially someone who has it as a result of bodily autonomy violations, as is the case with Crowley. People who have experienced non-consensual loss of control over themselves tend to have a jumpy response to sudden, unexpected stimuli in their environment.

Even though Crowley flailing dramatically is hilarious to watch because he's so over-the-top with it, beneath the humor in the scene is also that being unexpectedly hit with something out of nowhere is a very common thing that can trigger anxiety in people with PTSD. Good Omens is very good at finding some humor in dealing with darkness and a comparable scene in tone to this is Gabriel bouncing off the walls when the angels show up at the bookshop in S2. What is very amusing "books are keen!", fly-chasing zaniness is really, underneath, unconscious anxiety manifesting, as part of Gabriel's mind knows that the angels are a threat to him and is reacting with panic at them in his bookshop safe space.

Ironically, reacting with panic to an angel perceived as a threat being in the bookshop safe space is also Crowley's S2 plot, as if he and Gabriel didn't already have more in common than Crowley is ready to admit...

But, back to the hand gesture thing...

There is evidence that things like shuni mudra are effective simply because they help to create a pause that interrupts anxious and self-critical thoughts, which then allows space for calming the mind and body. Used in the way that Crowley is using it here, it's very similar to the Five Things/5-4-3-2-1 strategy for staving off or stopping an anxiety attack, in that both pull people back into the present moment by creating a sense of concentration on something besides the feeling of panic.

That Crowley does this pretty intuitively in the paintball scene as a response to having something anxiety-inducing happen to him indicates he likely does it pretty frequently. Crowley automatically going to shuni mudra while he takes a breath and figures out what, exactly, has happened, is indicative of someone with an awareness of their anxiety and PTSD and who has and uses strategies to help manage them, which goes along with things we've seen in other scenes as well.

Crowley and Aziraphale are inhaling places and food with a clear devotion to trying to live mindfully. You don't need to have experienced trauma to do that but mindful living is prescriptive for virtually every sort of mental health struggle that exists so Crowley and Aziraphale seeing it as therapeutic, as well as enjoyable, seems likely.

In the bookshop, they have a lotus flower rug. The lotus flower has long been a symbol of trauma recovery. You might have heard of the saying "no mud, no lotus", referring to how beauty and health can be made in the wake of horrible experiences. The lotus flower originates in the mud at the bottom of a body of water and travels through it to bloom above the surface, which is at the root of it being symbolic across different cultures for things like enlightenment, purity, strength, and recovery. Its resilience and ability to literally wade through struggle to come through into the light and bloom makes it a metaphor for getting through different forms of trauma.

That Crowley and Aziraphale have this rug in their World of Carpets that is the bookshop, when combined with these other scenes, show how they're dedicated to working through their stuff together and trying to be the best trauma-informed partners they can to one another.

It's also on the lotus rug that Crowley and Aziraphale put Gabriel to perform the miracle to protect him and, when they do, their magic is done with both of them using another hand gesture-- gyan mudra, the seal of knowledge-- to complete the miracle.

I think if you take all of this together, you could make the case for either or both of Crowley and Aziraphale using yoga and/or meditation to help manage the effects of trauma. For those who think that Crowley has chronic pain, there's also that both of these things have been helpful for managing that in many people, so that might be another reason for Crowley, in particular, to practice them.

The lotus rug in the shop might not just be symbolic but also a meditation/yoga spot. Do we think The Serpent always starts with Snake Pose, just because? 🤭

[kittykattropicanna]

would you please be able to go into more detail about your prison penpal!simon? why is reader doing it, how did they choose simon (if they had a choice at all), the sorts of letters they exchange? and if they’re any sort of smutty bits for them too? your mechanic au has me absolutely feral beyond words so seeing this made me so excited.

Omg you’re my first asked AHHHHHH I want to scream thank you so much!!!!! 

Absolutely I can go into detail about PrisonPenPal!Simon :3  I can't get out of my mind how deprived he is argh!!! >:( all this time alone, and now that you're here writing him pretty little letters, he can't imagine life without you :3

TW: mentions of murder, jail, corruption kink, breading kink, masterbation (Reader & Simon), public masterbation (kinda), smut, not sub!simon but he does cum in his pants, ahhh you're both just so obsessed with each other :3

PrisonPenPal!Simon masterlist

Regular masterlist

I’ll give you a little back story to why Si actually ended up in jail…

I feel like he retied, left SAS and tried to integrate back into civilian life but failed miserably. He started going out to bars and drinking pretty heavily. The alcohol made him angry, he never was outwardly violent, but everyone could tell he was just a very dark, tortured guy that sat in the back of the bar every night and drank himself stupid. It was like an unwritten rule that nobody bothered him. His a massive guy who’s ex military, if you had half a brain you would leave him alone. 

One night he was leaving the pub and this stupid, stupid 18 year old kid thought it would be funny to try square up to him and impress his friends. 

It didn’t matter how many times they told him to quit it and leave Simon alone, he still trudged up to him with his head held high and chest puffed.  

This kid came up behind Si and punched him in that back of the head. It wasn’t a good punch by any means but it was more then enough to drive Simons drunk brain into utter rage. 

He turned around and punched this kid straight in the head. He went down like a stack of bricks, head making direct impact with the concrete floor, killing him instantly. 

The kid was only 18, he had so much life left to live…..

Of course Si felt absolutely disgusted in himself, he couldn’t believe what he had done. Killed a poor kid who made a stupid decision and ultimately ended his life as well. 

He handed himself over the the police without hesitation. He went quietly and respectfully, cooperated with the police throughout the whole trial, never redirecting blame onto the kid or made it harder then it needed to be. 

He pled guilty for involuntary manslaughter and assault. Gaz, Johnny and Price all pitched in to get him the best defence lawyer humanly possible……ultimately, it worked. Even though the general public was outraged at his light sentence. 

Simons lawyer claimed the punch was in self defence. Someone attacking him from behind also trigged his PTSD resulting in Simon not being able to control his actions in that moment. 

These defences along with him serving in the military for 15+ years and cooperating with the authorities got him 8 years in prison, his sentence was quickly reduced to 4 because of his good behaviour. 

It wasn’t an ideal situation by any means, but it was the best case scenario with the cards he was dealt. 

But lets fast forward to the present….. How did you decide to actually start writing to an inmate? How did you even find out about it?

I have this really cute idea that maybe you were walking through the shopping centre and there was one of those pop up markets that sit in the middle of everything, you know, with the really annoying people that flag you down and you have to awkwardly not make eye contact and walk past them while they’re try and sell you stuff?

Yeah, one of them. This specific stand kinda caught your eye though, It was called “Write An Inmate”

You talked to the guy at the stand about what exactly “Write An Inmate” was and he explained that he was part of the program when he was locked up, how much it helps inmates get through their sentence, helps connect them to the outside world and genuinely just keeps them hopeful. 

First off you were a little hesitant…..speaking to someone who’s in jail because they broke the law sounded a little scary…. 

But hell, its a start of a new year and taking some time out of your day every once in a while to write a short letter to help keep someones hopes up is the least you can do. 

Besides! One of your childhood best friends big brothers went to jail and he wasn’t a bad guy! One of your new years resolutions was to spread more kindness and this is just a perfect way to do so!

Once you got home, you look up the website on the brochure that was given to you and quickly start scrolling through inmates.

They all had profiles with information about them. You couldn’t see what they were in for, but you could see other information like their name, age, date they signed up for the program, time served/time until they get out, amount of letters they have received, a short description of who they are/what they like and a few photos showcasing what they look like. 

You scrolled through a few but they all seemed to have gotten hundreds of letters, you wanted to write someone who wasn’t getting flooded every week with letters, maybe send a letter to someone who could use a pick me up. 

Clicking on the last page you scrolled to the very bottom and click on the last inmate before it even had time to load. 

Once the page opened the name “Simon Riley” appeared on your screen

After looking through his profile a wave of sadness rolled over you 

Name: Simon Riley, most people call me Ghost  Age: 36 Joined: December 26th, 2021 Letters Received: 0 Time served: 3 and a half years  Sentence ends: Year and a half  Description: ex military. I like dogs, big ones not small ones, the outdoors, playing cards and motorcycles. The first thing I want to do when I get out is to eat a steak. 

Attached was three photos. I won’t even lie, they’re definitely dad selfies from different angles HAHAHA they’re such grainy photos too, like they’ve been taken on a 10 year old android. 

Two of the selfies are him with a black balaclava on and the last one was of his face without anything covering it, but again it so grainy you can’t really make his facial features out. 

Simon had joined the program two years ago and hadn't received one letter. You felt horrible, he joined the day after Christmas probably hoping to receive something, anything, but not one person took the time to write him….. 

So obviously Simon was going to be your prisoner pen pal, how could he not be…..

I think the letters start off pretty innocently tbh, you don’t start writing to Simon with the intention of starting any sort of sexual or romantic relationship, it truly is out of the goodness of you’re heart, you sweet girl :(

Simon had totally forgotten about the program honestly, imagine his shock when the prison guard threw him a letter. 

When he frowned and asked who its from the guard just shrugged and said “write an inmate program” and walked off completely unfazed. 

But again, starts out super innocent, things like “I saw that you like big dogs, what’s your favourite breed?” and “what’s your favourite card game? I know how to play blackjack but I’m not very good haha”

I’d like to think you don’t even disclose your gender or name at the start. Keeping everything under lock and key. 

Simon also answers back with pure intentions at first, he has an inkling you may be a women because the hand writing is wayyy to pretty and delicate to come from a man. 

But again! He doesn’t get his hopes up, it could be an old granny for all he knows, but he can’t shake the idea that maybeeeee it could be someone a little more his type, ya know ;)

After a couple weeks of writing letters back and forth you feel like you’re getting to know him a little better. He asks you to call him Simon, not Ghost and he starts writing the cheesiest dad jokes at the bottom of every letter. 

“Two fish are in a tank, one turns to the other and asks “do you know how to drive this thing?” a little army humour for ya’ :)”

His so charming in such a rough and rugged sort of way you know? It sounds silly to say, I mean, you’ve never met him! But the way his handwriting is complete chicken scratch and how he adds little “:)” “:(“ and “>:)” makes you giggle! 

You end up telling him your name and how old you are, I mean, its only fair! You know his name! You definitely didn’t tell him because you wanted to get his mind racing, get him thinking about all the different possibilities, make him fantasize…

Its fair to say you have a little crush on him :( ahhhh its so humiliating! A city girl like you, good job, successful family and a bright future laying in bed every night fucking your pussy with a brand new dildo you bought just so you could imagine Simon, a felon, fucking your little cunt :( 

When Simon sent his letter that week asking for a photo of you, your little crush just got bigger :(

“Its only fair don’t ya’ think? You know what I look like, why don’t ya’ return the favour sweetpea ;)” 

And of course you did!! He asked so politely! 

Putting on your pushup bra, doing your makeup and styling your hair all for him:(((

You get so frustrated because you don’t want to look like you’re trying too hard for him, argh! Its all so embarrassing!! Your such a needy girl >:(

You make sure to push up your tits, your bra helping them spill out over your cute little shirt and giving him a good view of your gorgeous body. 

After an hour of taking photos you finally get the shot you were looking for 

Eyes sparkling, cute little smile on your lips, light hitting your face just right, lacy bra slightly peaking out the top of your shirt just enough that it looks like an accident, beautiful tits sitting right in frame so he can get a good look and the slight curve of your waist visible. 

Its perfect, it look so effortless…..in your eyes at least

When Si received your letter, his cock got hard the second he saw your picture :((((

Since his been locked up he hasn’t been able to jerk off properly >:( 

His balls are so heavy as is, and now he has a photo of you 

He could basically cum in his pants at the thought of holding your waist as you ride him. Using his big callused hands to fuck your pretty pussy onto his aching cock >>:((((((

You’re so put together! nice clothes, from the look of the background, nice apartment, clean bedroom. Just the thought of him corrupting you, fucking his baby into you, making you move into a shitty little apartment while he works and you look after his chubby baby makes his dick start to twitch :3

Before he can stop himself, he cums all in his pants :(

He hasn’t cum properly in years! yet a simple photo of you did it for him in seconds!!! You’re such a nasty minx, you know exactly what you’re doing you dirty girl >>:(

That night he lays under the covers, his cell mate fast asleep on the other side of the room as he slowly pumps his cock to the photo of you.

Eyes closed and head thrown back against the thin pillow, he bites his lip so he doesn’t make any noise. 

You see, playboy magazines get passed around all the time, they’re not hard to find if you know the right people, but it just doesn’t do it for Si!!

Of course they’re beautiful women, there’s no doubt about it, but everything so photoshopped :(

Si likes his women natural. No skin smoothing filters or enhancements from photoshop, he likes his women real 

His so deprived that he cums in record time, his hot load shooting all over your face, the once clean photo now sticky and stained….

He wished he had it in him to be embarrassed, but he just can’t! God, he needs to hear your voice, your picture just isn’t enough anymore….

In his next letter he asks if he could use his monthly call to speak to you……Johnnys just gonna have to wait, they can talk football another time >:(

Aghhhh, PrisonPenPal!Simon is so fucking cocky it hurtssss, PrisonPenPal!Simon is open for requests so feel free to send them throughhhhh, add to the AU, ask me expand on certain topics, whatever floats your boat >:)

!Disclaimer! - Above is NSFW content - MDNI - If you follow my blog without your age in your bio, you will be blocked - If you are under the age of 18, you are not welcome here, otherwise, enjoy :)

Cat divider sourced by @positively-mine from Pinterest - Pink line divider by @eloquentreverie - MDNI divider by @cafekitsune

Basic blog housekeeping -  fic requests guidelines, boundaries and my rules for minors

[ollycohens]

oh no you guys. i’m going to spew things i’ve realized while rewatching umbrella academy. I’m realizing were all being too sucked into fanon things after being stuck without canon content for so long. We have convinced ourselves Five acts like a mean mean dude to everyone but rewatching, i’ve realized he’s only stressed and is saying things out of panicked anger, especially in s1 with the apocalypse dooming over them. he acts soft to his siblings multiple times, he’s really not as mean as we write him in fanfiction. he is a little crap though, that’s for sure, and i love him for that <3

also realizing that the siblings don’t hate five. they just literally don’t know him at all. he came back a completely different person after 17 years for the siblings, they don’t know five, he’s a stranger so of course they’re gonna be cold to him. it’s like, “i don’t know you well, but you’re always going to be my brother in the end”.

ALSO. for those who ship some of the siblings, uhm… i’ve seen a lot of you guys try to prove that they don’t see eachother as siblings and more like academy students, but they very much say in just about every episode that they see eachother as siblings. they don’t actually SAY that word by word but they say things like “she’s our sister”, or “our dad”. if they say OUR dad… bro. i’m not even going to continue, you can put it together yourself. But, i do realize why people ship the siblings. I am not defending incest shippers but with umbrella academy i can see why people have resorted to it. only 3 of the characters in the main sibling cast has romantic partners. people like shipping people, people love writing romantic relationships, but with only diego/lila, dave/klaus, and sissy/viktor, (i’m not going to count five/dolores for now) people are desperate with the need to ship the rest of the siblings with someone, and since there are only a few actual canon characters in the show that interact with our main 7, people start shipping them together… yikes. anywho, that’s all for that peice. i blame the show writers as well for shipping luther/allison, they did not have to do that, but i’m hoping it was only to convey the severity of what childhood trauma does to people.

ALSO THIS HERE SHOOK ME. I actually think Reginald cares for the siblings. i hate to say it, but it’s true. caring for them does not mean being good, though. he was a horrible father, and person, but he genuinely did care for the siblings, in a like, “being the best is the best thing for you, i will make you better, for your sake, even if you don’t know it now, you will see that i am right” kind of way.

also why has NOBODY MENTIONED THIS. in season 2 when diego first reunites with five in the asylum, while he’s walking into the visitors room, he’s staring at five with this heartfelt, soft look, and then says “five…��� in the most soft spoken voice ever 😭 your honor i love them

ALSO UGHHH THIS. IM GOING TO FREAK OUT ABOUT CAMERAWORK AND METAPHORS HERE SO BARE WITH ME. we as a fandom complain about the lack of flashbacks five has due to his ptsd. we’ve seen his first flashback since getting back to his family in s1 during the van scene when he gets triggered by those kids playing and starts thinking about his own childhood, i’m guessing. i ate that scene up, and was sad to see that be one of the only deeply vulnerable scenes he has in the season, and during my first watch i thought they’d never bring it back up. but they do!! i may be stupid for not realizing but whatever. in season 2, when five is trying to explain at elliot’s with all his siblings around that another apocalypse is coming, everyone starts talking about each other. as someone who studies film and camerawork, i love this scene. we see the camera focus on five as it slowly zooms in. it doesn’t switch scenes at all as the siblings voices overlap and echo over eachother. this whole scene conveys him getting overwhelmed and he starts to zone out, starting to think of the nuclear war he saw his siblings in. the scenes of the war start quickly switching through, showing many different scenes of it before it switches back to five, who says “guys, you all die. i want to forget it but i can’t” which just UGH its so well done there. if you think about it, he was starting to slip into another flashback. he was triggered by talking about their deaths in the war but was handling it well until the siblings started fighting, where we see the overlapping voices happen. it portrays him losing control and being unable to pull it back together with too much going on for him to focus on grounding himself. we DO however, see that five was able to pull himself out before he fell too deep into the flashback. i love how they show this through them still having the scene showing the war, but then fives voice starts talking over the scene which is still focusing on the war as if he was pushing it back and forcing himself to come back to the present.

thank you for reading if you’ve made it this far, i will continue to freak out another time <3

[kneelingshadowsalome]

Immortal (Ghost x Medic!Reader Pt. 3)

"The path to paradise begins in hell."

— Dante Alighieri

Word count: 5.5 k

Summary: He knows now why he always returns to her. It's because he was injured. Badly, severely, life-threateningly injured – no, he was already deceased. What kind of a medic has the power to resurrect the dead? (Last part of Ghost stories.)

Tags/warnings: 18+ only. Angst, fluff, smut. Protective!Simon Ghost Riley. Graphic depictions of PTSD, suicidal thoughts and depression, mild violence. Emotional sex, love confessions, happy ending. Ghost POV.

"You can't come here, lieutenant. Not unless you're injured."

No one has ever scolded him.

He's the one who whips people into shape, who makes them recall who and where they are, that Task Force 141 is no place for fuckery. Now he's the one being reminded of his place. 

Somehow it's ok to bring her flowers before dinner, but ever since he started to bring her coffee to get an excuse to see her at work, she began to shut down. He can fuck her doggy style at her place, but if he so much as lifts his mask to kiss the back of her neck at her office, she bats him away like an annoying fly.

And he's fucking confused.

He thought he was doing the right thing. He thought that women like to be courted. Now he's standing in the middle of her apartment, waiting for… he doesn't even know what. Pardon, perhaps.

"Why do you always call me lieutenant?"

"Well I can't call you Simon at work, can I?"

She's chaste and decent. Has been like that for a while now, retreating back to her role of a distant professional. 

Something's troubling her, and he tries to get to the bottom of it. Tries his best to cheer her up, even if it's absurd that someone like him attempts to do that.

"Y'could use the alias."

"I'm not going to call you that."

She reads Virgil while making it clear that he's quite ridiculous. A ghost. It must remind her of a children's book rather than something stealthy and fatal; to her, it's a grown man's sad attempt to play a superhero.

"Did you come up with the name yourself?" Her voice has a whiff of irony as she finally spares him a glance from her hard-cover poetry.

"...No," he lies, too soon. Far too soon. She catches him on it, pants down.

"You're a silly, silly man." She shakes her head slowly and returns to her book. Last week, it was Dante who had better things to offer, far better things compared to him – such as a more poetic depiction of hell.

But even with the distant aura he can't quite pierce, she gives him a concept of what it would be like to have a home. A real home where you don't have to dread the evening and everything it brings out in people. Even when he was doing the SAS Fan Dance and lying on the cold ground to have a compulsory 2-hour shut-eye, he never missed home. The weather-beaten trail and a flapping tarp were still a cosier place than the one he'd left behind. 

The closest thing to an actual home was always solitude. A few days without routine. A cold shower in the morning to wake him, but not frigid enough to kill the erection. A good, unhurried fap and some stale spit circling down the drain. No one giving him a pitiful eye for tossing old takeaway in the bin and opening the cupboard only to be met with some canned food and table salt.

Now, the first thing in the morning is the sensation of her. Fingertips sneaking their way under his arm and ghosting his stomach, stirring him so softly he doesn't quite know if he's gone to heaven. Home is a sleepy nest and slow kisses followed by the sounds of brewing coffee. Home has become a place of mundane tasks: helping her water the plants and tasting whether the vanilla pudding she made has enough sugar. Changing sheets together, listening to the fitful sea as it breaks upon the shore. Watching how she reads of the Trojan War.

When he just stands there, admiring how her manicured nails glide over the pages, she talks to him again without raising her lashes from the book. 

"Did you need something?"

…You. All of you. 

Now and forever.

"Ya wanna go out to eat tonight?"

Finally, he grabs her attention. The distance between them is sewn up so fast even a jerk like him can understand he finally made the right fucking move.

"What about your… The mask?"

He shrugs.

"I thought you liked my cooking," she gives him a smile. Sly… Foxy.

"I do. But let me feed you for a change."

He sees in that stare and the way she purses her lips that she's trying to prevent a dirty joke from coming out of her pretty little mouth. As much as he appreciates that little cunning look, as much as he loves when that mouth gets a little dirty, he's more than serious now.

"Come on. Let me take you out."

"Well. If you insist," she smiles, shuts the book, and flies to her closet to pull out a stunner of a dress.

…..…..…..

Her fingertips always make his cock stir. They were supposed to go to sleep – a rare thing, to not slip inside her after a nice lil evening. To his surprise she starts to trace the few hairs on his stomach, threading through them as they thicken below. 

He can feel how she gets tense upon seeing that he's hard and heavy before she even reaches there. But she's not tense from anticipation.

"I overheard some of the guys talking about us. Or, well, me."

His cock gives a tug, and she still doesn't touch it.

"How I'm your luxury whore."

The curtain shifts as the wind plays with it: softly, while he's ripped out of the dark safety of the womb.

"Luxury…" She laughs, but it's bitter and thick. "Isn't it funny?"

He's hard now mainly because of the fury that rises. It ripples through his chest and pulls his stomach taut.

"Was it the rookie?"

He hears his voice from far away, from under the sea, but luckily, her hand brings him back. It's placed on him again, this time further up. She likes to trace the cavity between his pecs, pet the hair she finds there, too. Sometimes, she buries her face there and inhales his sweat, then uses that spot as her pillow. It's that very moment when he finds peace if he already hasn't by then.

"You don't have to defend my honour," the night speaks softly.

So, it was the rookie.

Nothing but a boy, younger than Soap and cockier than he was when he left Manchester with nothing but a duffel bag on his shoulder. Nothing but a boy, and she knows how boys are. She knows how boys talk. She wouldn't be in the Force if she took filthy quips seriously. 

But this is fucking different. The fantasies of what he'll do to the fucker when he gets back get sicker and more beautiful by the second.

"Just… don't come there anymore unless you're injured. Ok?"

He can't hear her because the vile word overrides even the gorgeous visions of torture. It gathers up his throat as bile, and he barely has time to take a deep breath to force it down before it's too late.

"I'm gonna go take a shower." 

"At this hour…?"

"Can't sleep anyway."

He reaches the bathroom just in time before the vomit flies. The power of it forces him on his knees, forces him to take hold of the door frame. Everything he fed to her shoots up, like it was only a dream that he could make her happy.

…Are you just here for sex?

Her shy question echoes from the tiles as another retch pulls the rest of his love out. 

He's sweating worse than the time they had to operate him in the field, back when a bullet had worked its way through the naked spot between the straps of his plate carrier. The shower washes some of it away, but the stench stays, the foul word and the insolence, all the shallow things he has given her coat the insides of his mouth no matter how many times he tries to spit it away. The water only does so much, and she's still not asleep by the time he returns to her. 

The luxury is waiting for him, silky and sweet. 

Wet, even, if he wants.

"Baby… Honey?"

Baby.

Baby.

He feels his guts in his throat again but swallows them down. She's beautiful, even when sad and sorry. Sorry, and for what? For him, instead of herself and what she's been called, the spite she has had to suffer simply for lying down in the filth with him. 

"Are you okay...?"

"Yeah."

He goes to her, pulls her in his arms, and hopes he doesn't smell of puke.

"They're just words. Right?"

I'm more than just your whore, right?

Her hand doesn't shy away from the sweat that breaks through his back. She's not afraid of him, even when he's the monster she never asked for. He can respect that kind of fearlessness. 

"You're awfully quiet," she tries. 

Baby, please don't go berserk, is what he hears.

"Go to sleep, pet," he calls forth his softest voice, relieved to notice it sounds more like a lullaby than a command. He allows her to kiss him, wondering if she can taste the grave. 

"Yes, sir," she breathes a soft smile in his mouth. Then she turns and coats herself with his arm. It must feel heavy around her, but she only gives a happy sigh. "I always sleep better with you. You feel so good… Safe."

He wonders how strange it is that love sometimes feels like pain. Her words come close to a knife slowly being pushed to his insides. They're still burning when she mutters the last essential thing, already half-asleep in his arms.

"They're just words, Simon…"

…..…..…..

He doesn't know much about poetry, but perhaps Dante was right. 

The heart of hell is not a fiery lake of torment but an icy, cold, stagnant place. There's nothing there. Everything is frozen: screams, thoughts, even dreams. 

He's walked through grey rubble and drenched asphalt, through alleyways of havoc and debris, he's trekked through desolate woodland and marsh. He's run through life like it's a day-to-day race to not get killed, but the worst of it isn't the bullets or the cold or the wind or the rain. It's the sleepless nights, the inertia. His soul in chains. On those nights, he wanted to get killed. 

And yet, he's not the only one who has suffered the unfortunate event of being dragged through every plane of hell. He's not the first man to go through the funnel, nor is he the last. It only looks bad in a society where he's supposed to own a credit card and a house. It only tastes like shit when someone asks "How does it make you feel?" 

People like him shouldn't go to therapy at all. His solution was to quit playing a modern man the minute he realized he's no longer fit for that role. He's simply a dead body, reanimated to serve a purpose. He's a sharp tool, a weapon. (A zombie.)

He serves the greater good, but everyone knows the greater good is propaganda too. There's no grand fight between light and darkness. Good and evil only conduct people's choices: even his old man must've thought he was making the world a better place by playing the rebel. He told him he served the Queen just to piss that sodded bastard off, but the truth is he never served anyone. Not even himself.

Now, there's an odd purpose to his task. Now, every cell in his body is full of animus. 

He's an animated corpse, perhaps, but they forgot to bury the wrath.

"Where's the rookie?"

"Getting stapled."

"Where?"

Which room? 

Which fucking room?

He doesn't stay to heed directions. He doesn't need them; his instinct tells him enough. He doesn't even bother to knock, simply barges in, only to see that the boy sits on the bed he used to sit on, in the exact same position as him. And he knows it's not just the blood loss that makes the fucker look so drowsy and smug. 

The fury is pierced with an ice-tinged sword as he sees her gentle touch – she's tending to the wounds of an ungrateful kid with the same compassion she gives to all her patients, and the first thing on his mind is that she would make a good mother.

"What're you doing here?" 

His voice is soaked in ash, but the boy only looks up from the bed with pure, trouble-seeking gall.

"What are you doing here…? Sir."

She's looking at him too. She's pleading with those eyes. Silently, desperately. 

"You can't come here, lieutenant. Not unless you're injured."

Her request only now makes sense as he sees how the boy looks him up and down and sees there's not a scratch on him. There's no reason for him to be here other than to relieve the pain in his loins.

"Well… Have fun," the rookie jumps from the table, and the rage threatens to pull him underwater like a tide. He never needed anything but his voice to stop a man in his tracks. Not size, not rank, not even his reputation, just voice. 

"My office. Five minutes."

The boy dares to give him another foul look.

"Is that all you need? Just five minutes?"

He even detects admiration in that stare – like he's some stallion, a prized old stud who receives fine mares to rut. Like the celestial woman standing behind this… boy is just some slag thrown to him like they threw to gladiators of old. His luxury whore.

The rookie finally catches the impending wrath that must swell and roil like sea inside the sockets of the skull. 

Yes, boy.

Death is coming.

"Sir," the boy swallows with an arduous blob, then walks out of the goddess's domain, finally with some humility upon those shoulders. 

The torture has already begun, and it shoots him full of sweet adrenaline. He tries to mask the rising war from her, but she sees enough just before he leaves her as well. Her words follow him but cannot penetrate the cloak of fury that shrouds him as he goes to prepare for carnage.

"Simon. I just stitched him together..."

…..…..…..

He doesn't solve the problem with a gun or a cock this time. 

He uses his fists and a knife.

It should disgust him; how much he enjoys it. It's one of those rare occasions when he almost loses himself in the riptide of blood. The things he imagines are far worse than what he finally allows himself to do. When the boy has a split lip and half his face swollen so bad he can't even see from the bruise, when the wetness dampens the crotch area and threatens to stain the carpet, he lets him go.

"Get out."

He's a different man when he rises from beside that broken boy; from next to the knife he plunged to the floor an inch away from his face to make his intentions clear. The boy is stripped of all arrogance and probably regrets the day he got the splendid idea to insult a woman. 

He doesn't have to get his hands deep into paperwork to have the rookie transferred; the boy does it for him. He leaves the base quietly as a shadow and with a face that looks like it has been forced through a waffle maker.

After that, everyone salutes him feet away.

His orders are obeyed without question, without a second's delay on missions. He has never pursued to be loved, but neither has he worked on making people fear him. Now he's not only a source of mystery and intrigue but also fear and wonder.

Soap isn't scared quite as shitless as the rest of them, but neither is he as friendly as he used to be. Price says nothing but he gets a few looks that tell him he has gone too far.

"You shouldn't have," she whispers when they're alone, stopping him in the quiet hallway. She's the only one who doesn't have fear and avoidance in her stare. If anything, the adoration in her eyes has deepened.

He has avoided her strictly, this time obeying her request not to go to her unless he has business there. He doesn't defend himself; he doesn't have the luxury to decide what should or shouldn't be done. He's not a saint nor a judge. He is territorial, though.

"You must be the craziest man I've ever met." 

She talks to his shadow as he's standing only a few feet away, unable to touch her.

"Good."

"...and the most incredible."

His sharp intake of air hisses between them as the artificial light casts shadows in electric blue. She tries to thank him for bashing a face in, all her noble Hippocratic Oaths forgotten.

She takes a step – just one, to make it perfectly clear she wants to touch him too.

"You're a brute, Simon."

The woman's eyes are a deep sea of gratitude. He wonders if she's equally as wet between those legs. Her voice says it all: she likes brutes.

The worship in her stare makes him understand why wars have been waged – this is the reason why crusaders sloshed through rivers of crimson blood, why whole civilizations were destroyed. This is why swords are forged and guns are fired. He draws another breath to swear his allegiance, an oath bound in blood.

"No one's gonna call you a–"

She crosses the final breadth of air between them and lifts his mask.

…..…..…..

The waves crash on the shore like clockwork. To him, it's the sound of limbo. 

The sea used to pull him in like a seductive pit, especially at night, during the sleepless shifts when he walked to the beach with nothing but the ghosts of all the people he had lost to keep him company. Watching all the futures and should have been's slowly drowning in the sea. 

Now he’s here with a living being, and the cold, dead sea has turned into blooming fireworks of crimson and coral. The amnesia has turned into bliss; all the treasures lost in the depths suddenly wash up on the shore like a sunken hoard.

She takes her shoes off the minute they reach the shore, then descends the sands with laughter. She could be from a movie or a magazine, gliding through bleached gold with sunbeams in her hair, sandals dangling from the crook of her fingers, heathers kissing her feet as she dives down the path. Her smile eclipses even the setting sun, and for the first time ever, he thinks it might've been a stupid idea to enlist. 

If there’s an opposite to ice and inertia, it's this. 

It's her. 

"You lied to me," she turns around but doesn't stop walking. "You have been to the beach."

She tilts her head as if reprimanding him, but he knows she's just laughing at his expense. She laughs at his name… She laughs at his broodings, she laughs at his shadows and his hubris. 

"Does anyone else know about this place?"

"No."

There's no soul out here but theirs; even the seagulls have withdrawn to rest. She stops to admire the sun, features turning soft as she takes in her counterpart. Apparently, she likes his humble tribute, the scarcity he has to offer. Some hollow bones, his opinion of a beach. Emptiness… A day coming to an end.

"I have no words for this."

"It's just a beach," he offers, and swallows when she turns. When the fuck has he ever felt embarrassed? His mask is gone, so she can see him swallow again as she approaches. It's the strangest thing how she can still cause his heart to hammer in his chest. He's used to stepping into a hail of bullets, driving a truck through a wall, waiting for that last unaware step to lunge forth and slit a man's throat. The organ never wailed then.

Her eyes take in his every flaw and scar, the rotten work on his skin before she wraps her hands around his neck. 

"No. No it's not. This is paradise."

She has to rise on her toes to kiss him, and he's glad he got rid of the mask. There's nothing between him and the taste of summer anymore – she reminds him of some bright tropical drink, something pure and sweet and innocent, pure fucking fun, something he has come to understand and define only through movies and tv. 

And he knows now why he always comes back to her. It's because he was injured. Badly, severely, life-threateningly injured – no, he was already deceased.  

She has introduced him back to the world: the sun, the birdsong, the simple, good life. How it feels like to have curtains, or bake just because it's Thursday, or walk barefoot on the beach in order to feel the burning sand on your skin. 

What kind of a medic has the power to resurrect the dead?

"Simon," she shivers into his mouth. "I'm sorry. I didn't want people to think that… That we're just…"

"Pet. I know."

"They said you didn't trouble yourself with relationships."

Years of instinct and training make his spine tingle. He's holding another future in his arms and hopes it's not possible for a sea to swallow a sun.

"They?"

"Well, John. Captain." 

Her lashes hide what's going through her mind, but he can tell she's feeling shy from the way she shifts in his embrace.

"I asked about you. In spring. If there's someone… waiting for you."

He wrestles down a bitter laugh. The only lover ever waiting for him was nothingness in that chair; the only wife he came home to was shades, shadows, and dust. 

But he's starting to understand what she's trying to say. How, without even thinking about it, he just made the strongest possible declaration of not being here just for sex. He couldn't have sent a louder message with that boy.

Because not only Jonathan Price know that she's his. Soap knows too. Gaz knows too. Everyone working in Task Force 141 knows, even the fucking scrubbers and accountants know what's going on. Everyone knows that Ghost is real, and alive, and troubles himself with a relationship.

"I dreamed of you, you know." Her lashes flutter open, and he's met with the perfect example of total surrender. She's more than happy with the outcome, and why the hell shouldn't she be? Actions speak louder than words. He of all people should know that.

"Love–"

"Do you remember the day I found out you were a smoker?"

"...Sure."

She laughs, taking him back to the odd meeting in the yard when she was prying her suffocating latex gloves off, and he was trying to find some solace in a cigarette because he couldn't have her. 

"I was so angry at you. Playing with death at every turn..." 

"Yeah. Not the perfect man."

"But you were. You are." 

"Pet. If someone's perfect, it's you."

"No… I'm a hypocrite. I wanted you to just–just take me against the wall. After your stupid smoke."

He always wondered if she was suffocating too. In her gloves, in her beauty, in her sterile, medical, professional chasteness.

But he had no fucking clue that she–

"Or during, I don't care…"

Even the thought of her wanting him to tear apart her facades shatters the last sane thought in his head. He has tried to be civil, tried to suffocate the longing, but apparently, he doesn't have to. The image of burying himself inside her cunt while taking a drag from the thing she despises even more than his name or his mask or his guns is too fucking much. The fact that she views a dog like him as a perfect man makes his cock answer her call like a good, stout soldier. 

"Is that so?"

She stops breathing for a moment as he takes a drag from her now. She's raw whiskey straight to an empty stomach, the way his mind goes blank from sliding his mouth over the column of her throat. She tastes of sea there, and it's not pulling him in; it's pulling him under. The open-mouthed kisses make her jolt, he even draws out a moan or two; they swell between his legs. 

"You like that…?"

She answers to him with a soft whine. A soft nib of her ear, and her hips reply with a roll. The woman tries to latch onto him by gripping his shirt, threatening to do permanent damage to the fabric.

"No walls here, pet. Gotta take you on the sand," he gruffs in her ear, cock hard and ready from her tight little breaths. He could bet half his money that she's wetter than November down there. He could drag his cockhead across her cunt and the sound would be divine. 

"Simon–"

"I'll light a cig first."

"Stop teasing," she laughs, voice thick with hunger.

"...Roger that."

His hand is on his belt before he knows it. It's pathetic how much patience he has if he needs to crouch in a downpour and wait for a kill, but at the sight and smell and taste of her, he can't stop himself from wrenching his belt and pants open like a starved dog. It's a rush born of fear - that any time could be the last time.

She seems to shiver from his stare only when she lays herself upon the warm sand, naked as can be. She's like a vision on that beach: leaning on her elbows, thighs slowly parting, revealing the glistening sex between her legs. And she's fucking dripping, like an overripe peach. He could've safely bet all his money on her.

"How do you want me?"

Fucking fuck… 

He's walking in a dream: the most beautiful woman in the world is lying naked before his feet, bathing in gold, asking how he would prefer to take her. He doesn't even bother to get out of his clothes; he merely tugs his pants down and crawls between her legs, relishing the tight gasp he gets from being so crude.

Her eyes grow wide at the sight of him there, so close to her core, cock hanging heavy just an inch away from that tight cunt. She tries so hard to look composed while lying under his shadow, to not make it obvious that she wants that ugly thing inside. And it does feel like sin not to spread those legs and plough right in, especially when his fingers meet her silk and find that she's already throbbing.

"Want you just like this, pet," he rasps while dragging the pad of his thumb around her clit. Her back arches on the sand, forcing his fingers deeper into the dripping fruit.

It's different, her wetness; not thick and halfway there, but flowing, leaking, soaking good. The pussy is so glazed that he slips at the first attempt to slide a finger in. Her walls grip him the second he's seated deep, making it known how much she appreciates it that he's not here just for sex. 

"Someone's greedy," he's breathing rough, and she whines – he only gets to two fingers before she demands him to fuck her already.

"Want your–I need your cock…" 

She's begging, poor thing, almost crying on the sand, and he has no fucking choice but to remove his fingers and grab his cock instead.

"Have to go slow, love."

"Riley–for god's sake, now."

"F' fuck's sake…" He stumbles forward, all but gracefully, forces the tip on her soaked cunt as delicately as he can before pushing right in. She cries from the spread, fingers curling in the sand: a futile attempt to take him in without fainting.

"Tried to warn ya–"

"Don't you dare stop," she gasps, eyes full of love. As always, her wish is his command, and the tightness makes it an endless journey to bliss. The basest parts of him think about dying – having a heart attack on the same beach he almost drowned in, about ceasing to exist just for the sake of knowing that nothing is as good as this. 

He's deep as can fucking be, and it's still not enough – it's never enough. He collects her in his arms with a frustrated grunt, cock giving a tight pull only when she's finally safe and snug in his embrace. It's a tight cuddle that leaves them both breathless.

"Hold me tighter..." 

It's a soft order, but he can't get any closer: chest plastered on her skin and balls pressed against her ass, the sand grinding against her back as he makes love to her. She’s not made of twigs, but he’s far bigger than her, already threatening to crush her with his weight.

"Tighter…" she begs on his lips, tries to pull him closer with her whole being.

"Pet, I don't want to hurt you."

"You won't," she sings, completely shieldless. Something warns him of danger, a reset far worse than drowning or being buried alive or shooting himself in a lonely apartment. He tries to calm her down with a kiss: he knows she loves kisses - but there are tears in her eyes, and his heart is hammering, hammering… 

"Simon, do you love me…?"

She asks that question right on his lips, and the first thing in his dog mind is that it's a stupid thing to ask when he's balls deep inside her and still trying to get closer.

"Yeah," he almost chokes on it, knowing it could be their wedding day and he would still choke on it because it doesn't taste like salt or metal or grave.

"I love you," she whispers. "Do you understand?"

No. No…

I fuckin' don't–

"And I'll always be here for you."

To his shock, there’s no sea water in his lungs, no dirt in his mouth. He’s not choking on anything, he's not in fact dying at all: he’s floating, somewhere between the sun and the sand and the sea. There's no more rush, no jaws of death snapping at his heels. He doesn't even long for heaven anymore. Not when there's a paradise on earth.

"Love, I need you to–need you to focus," he tries to stutter nonsense while she's pledging herself to him. Of course she only laughs at him: it hits him with the sweetest warmth.

"You're so silly…" 

"Yeah? I know." 

He's laughing too. It's just a few notes that get taken away by the sound of waves. It's just a breath from deep within, and still… Her gaze drops to his mouth, a flutter blinks back more tears.

"I love it when you laugh..." Her eyes shine brighter than the sun, riding the spine of the sea as one perfect tear rolls down her cheek. "Love it…"

The sun sets in tangerine, his new favourite colour. There's a whole bloom out there in the sky when she comes, fast and bright in his embrace. He comes right after, just from trying to stay inside her warmth, deep inside her, around her, and she says it, again and again and again… Until he breathes.

….….….

"Remember when I said I could've managed? Without you," she asks when they lie on the sand, skin on skin, watching the sun set beneath the onyx sea. The waves rise and break, but around them, the air is still. He's still inside her as she pulls his hand over her heart, entwining their fingers together: it's the softest little arrest, but her squeeze doesn't lack strength. 

"I lied too."

"I know."

She chuckles softly. "Is there something you don't know?"

"...Yeah. Why you're here out of all places."

She turns her head from the sunset into the falling darkness of him, and he wonders if that's why she's here... To be with his night. She said that people always get the dark wrong: that it's not supposed to be scary at all. That the purpose of darkness is safety, security, that there are tales where the day chases the night, and the night chases the day. She said it's because they're in love with each other.

"You really don't know…?" 

"You were smiling before we met and now you're crying all the time."

She looks up at him with trust and devotion, his daylight, his sun. There's none in the sky anymore, but it doesn't matter. It lives in her eyes.

"People cry from happiness too, Simon."

[bookbitchx]

This scene... the whole library scene, actually fills me with so much disgust.

The way Feyre compares what she went through with Tamlin and I'm assuming UTM to what the women of the library went through.

Don't get me wrong, what she went through UTM was horrific. What Tamlin did wasn't okay. However, all three are very separate issues. I don't like how they just blended them all into one.

The whole scene that follows this, where Rhysand and Feyre get handsy and almost have sex in the Library, the Sanctuary for women who were SA.

That had me staring at the pages for ten minutes straight... bc what the fuck?

Their High Lord, out of all people, should have known better. Feyre, who has supposed PTSD should have known better.

Now, for the actual kicker, Feyre and her PTSD.

"I suppose it's a miracle that I can even stand to be underground."

This straight-up fills me with rage. Oh, she's grateful the library didn't trigger her, but she can go to HC, you know, the mountain that Amarantha moddled her own mountain after, dressed exactly like she was UTM while her mate parades her around... and doesn't bat an eyelash.

The way SJM picks and chooses what Feyre reacts to when it comes to her PTSD pisses me off to no end.

As someone with PTSD, believe me, I wish I could turn it off and on a whim.

"Oh, it's not that deep. She's fictional." She is, but the disorder isn't.

If SJM is going to write about something very real that real people live with every damn day, she better fucking educate herself on it first.

[nevermeyers]

Yeah, I know I said I'd keep quiet about it because I plan on ignoring the ending. I've done it plenty of times, even with books I consider my favorites. "Oh this book is so good, it's one of my faves... How does it end? I don't remember." I'm going to do that with jjk because I've done it more times. Anyways.

Seriously, where's the character development? Why dedicate an entire chapter to showing how much criticism affects you and making excuses for your narrative instead of fixing it? Gege could have written about the characters and their problems, their worries, their evolution even while talking about how the politics of jujutsu world are changing rn.

What are Nobara's thoughts right now? There could have been an entire chapter dedicated to her character to fill in the gaps and finish defining her, what about her mother? How does she feel about her childhood friends? What are her plans now?

What about Megumi? Yeah, seeing him laugh was therapeutic, but honestly his character hasn't had the development/ending I expected. The timeskip was weird, his acting is literally the same as the beginning of the manga. It feels like I'm reading the same person who appeared in chapter one and not a traumatized boy who is learning to live. Where is Itadori teaching him that it's actually worth moving on? Where's the whole PTSD thing I'm sure he has? (fuck megumi haters btw fuck them, and fuck the way they victim blamed a kid). What are his thoughts about Gojo? About Sukuna?

Yuuji... Our mc. I was expecting to see him mourning Choso, mourning Gojo. But no, apparently it's more important to explain that there was a secret society (lmao) than to have him show respect and tears for those people he loved. His family, who he never got to spend time with, and his sensei, who decided not to execute him and who taught him almost everything he knows. I wanted to see him taking his friends to the movies to see some B-movie horror instead of going through the horror of watching characters insult him and tell him that it's better if he were dead.

And yes, I know there are two chapters left and some of the things I mention here might appear, but we've already wasted our time with one chapter, that's many pages. There won't be time to fix whatever is this. I feel bad :/

Now, one of the things that bothers me the most is that there are characters that were implied to be dead and now suddenly appear alive. I thought this was about letting the new generations create a fair world, but no. Do you know which character bothers me the most? Mei Mei. No, I'm not against someone writing sa/csa in fiction as long as it's not romanticized (I accept the unreliable narrator because that happens a lot irl and it's sad). The thing is that Mei Mei literally embodies the values ​​of the jujutsu world. In the jujutsu clans there was everything, sexism, abuse, neglect and most likely incest since (at least that's how I see it) they are like the monarchies of the Middle Ages. Mei Mei is the embodiment of all those rotten values ​​that Gojo hated, that the new generations are destined to eradicate. Seriously. What is she doing alive? Take her out rn. Gojo didn't die for this.

I read someone saying that maybe the point of this chapter isn't to break the cycle, but to repeat it. I have to say that I'm a big fan of that trope! It reminds me that humans repeat the same mistakes, but even if that were the point I think it wouldn't be well written.

There came a point in the story where both options: love is worthless and love is worth it were acceptable by the end of the manga. This is the ending where love is worth it, but why hasn't anything changed? The characters we saw in 269 are almost exactly the same we saw in chapter number one.

If this is a story about how love is worth it, accept the consequences and write characters who, thanks to love, move forward and build a new world instead of neutralizing any kind of development

[davenweenie]

I need to have a little rant about certain Spencer Reid fans. Don’t take this too seriously, we are talking about a fictional character here and not a real person, my opinions are just that. MY opinions, you don’t have to agree with them.

Prison and Post-prison Spencer Reid sexualisers in particular. I just find that sexualising a man being wrongfully accused of murder and drug trafficking, at his literal lowest and ready to die is a little weird. MGG was phenomenal in these episodes and conveyed the feeling of utter helplessness so well. I think most of the fandom are in agreement that Spencer is autistic, being in prison is an awful time for anyone but would be especially difficult for an autistic. Having to constantly mask, unable to express normal and natural traits would be completely exhausting for starters. But also, fighting for his life in there, being an FBI agent as well as how he looks physically must have been terrifying in prison surrounded by some of the worst people on earth.

You don’t have to be a genius to know that someone who looks like Spencer would be in a huge amount of danger in prison. He’s physically weaker compared to other men, he looks a lot younger than he is and let’s face it, he IS a pretty boy and I’m not trying to be funny or ironic when I say that. Unfortunately, that makes him the prime target for SA in a prison setting. This is vaguely mentioned and hinted at in the show. It is also hinted that this is what he experienced the night he was ambushed in his cell and beaten.

Once out of prison, he is clearly suffering from PTSD. He is struggling to unmask, he’s struggling to be independent again (which is something a lot of released prisoners experience) and he lashes out a lot more than he ever would have previously. This is because he is quite literally traumatised. For some reason, people find this attractive. I do not. I don’t understand how someone clearly suffering from PTSD and related issues is attractive. Yes, Spencer is attractive in general and it is okay to find him attractive but I’ve noticed a theme of people only finding prison and post-prison Reid attractive. This is just very peculiar to me. How is a man at rock bottom what gets you off?

And adding to that, it gives off the impression that those select people didn’t like Reid when he was actually being himself. A nerd who likes to ramble, a geeky, weird guy. If you don’t like Spencer being a weird, quirky guy, you don’t like Spencer at all because post-prison Reid is nothing like the real Reid before his major traumas.

Dunno, just something that has been bothering me for a while.

[kel-lance]

JJK Mafia Au (JJK x Reader) PART 4

(quick chapter//moving plot)

Warnings:

- TW: Dead dove dont read (DDDR) Minors do not interact (MDNI): SA, Physical Assault, DubCon, NonCon, Mindbreak, Public Humiliation, Breeding, Ownership, Gaslighting, Multiple manipulation, RWORD, PTSD, a lot more toxic sh.

Premise:

Reader lives in a city where the two biggest gangs keep things line until the third gang showed up. That had nothing to do with you though, until dumb luck just happened to favor you one day. Basically You’re picked up and used by every dangerous criminal within the clans due to some alliances they had to create due to some members messing up the previous alliances. ((Almost everyone’s gonna have a turn 🤗)) ( i have 12 chapters planned out right now meaning after i write those ill still be writing more.)

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AN: Sorry for the long update i'm trying not to get evicted bc i was fired a while ago bc of a protest (surprise surprise big companies don't like or care about palestine or other places like it.) but i had to give away my cats and am still struggling i have my socials in my masterpost if you could help if not its okay ily, I hope you like it

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After the three took a break from you, Sukuna pushed Yuuji towards you. Todo just follows along, trying to make sure Sukuna doesn't kill Yuuji as they just don't know what Sukuna could be thinking at times like these.

You lay a top the bed, sheets strayed, your hair messy, your whole body sweaty and broken, you entirely were weak, and Yuuji couldn't stop saying sorry to your fucked out face. "Let's see what you got."

You didn't feel anything for a few minutes until Todo broke the silence. "You've got to do something, brother, you know I'll back you up."

Yuuji just continued to stand there. If he were to fight Sukuna with Todo on his back, he wouldn't know who else would fight with them. Todo would lose everything he already has and would blindly die for him, which he would never ask for. But if he were to go through with fucking you again for Sukuna's enjoyment, Todo would also have to add himself into the situation. This double edged sword was going to stab him either way, but which would hurt you less?

"Don't take too long..." The leader made motion that he was going to start walking towards you two. "NO." Yuuji covered you on the bed, staring off back at his older brother. Todo comes behind Yuuji, putting a hand on his shoulder before giving him a look, and sighing understandingly as he stripped off his shirt.

Todo and Yuuji's was almost awfully awkward at first. They just felt bad, not being able to tell if you were even conscious anymore and continuing to do to you what they were doing.

Really they weren’t allowed to stop until Sukuna was satisfied. Until Yuuji was sobbing, begging him to give you and everyone else a rest. He was asking what would it take to stop this?

The older brother taunts, “Maybe we’ll keep her til she births one of our children, or multiple if she can create sufficient and strong offspring. I don’t know, Yuuji, should I start a farm because of you? I heard the Zenin clan is somewhat similar…”

“Please, please, Sukuna what do you want?” He was breathless. “This has to stop, you can’t-.”

He stops his younger brother, “I have, I did, and I can continue this for as long as you both live. I think that may be the conclusion I’ll come to, don’t you think it would be fun to be an uncle?” His big hands caress your stomach, feigning tenderness to his soon to be child or “sibling’s” child.

- You go back to your room where you stay in for a week.

- A random night, someone breaks in and tries to kidnap you and you didn’t know who it was, obviously you weren’t going with them without an explanation.

-That caused you to fight back as your dealing with everything so far, you were getting pissed being treated like a doll. The person who broke in gets captured, just before he says “Yuuji’s waiting outside, trust me.”

- Sukuna's family come in trying to make sense of the situation and the others had captured the mystery guy

- That's not before he throws you to two female ninjas. They secure you quickly and run back to their master Toji.

- their clan/gang is super powerful, the twins you can guess are Maki and Mai, and Sukuna (the new head of one of the three big families that control the large part of the area, the head of the Kamo gang) had just kidnapped their son, even if he did happen to barge in.

- Megumi’s been friends w Yuuji since they were kids but they never shared that.

- they met bc they were fighting bc yuuji was taught to fight ppl who give them looks (Sukuna wanted him to protect the family name no matter what, and megumi just had that face… and when they realized that they were part of the other side they had to come to extremes before realizing they were different from their families.

- they knocked each other out senseless and somehow one was still alive, megumi sat with yuuji while he regained consciousness and they started to talk more. Battered and bloodied but Yuuji finding the humor in it while Megumi thinks enough to like his character and realizes he’s just a big strong idiot.

- Maki and Mai are close, as sisters should be and they both have their loves (nobara and momo) and we all have to go team up with the gojo clan in order to make sure this trade off is safe and megumi and yuuji aren’t dead

- because now yuuji is with you at the toji clan too, it was supposed to be just you getting captured and then yuuji leaves to live his own life but now he’s in front of toji saying it was his fault that megumi’s now with his brother (sukuna)

- Yuuji explains that he and his son were friends since childhood, he says everything and everyone's on edge bc toji does what he wants, whenever, whatever, really anything for money.

- He says he knows he doesn’t have money, but the only thing he does have was something they both risked their lives for, so toji gets curious and wants to try you out.

- Toji fucks you senseless, making you think the train ran on you were more merciful. He was trying every hole, every position, just dressing you up and doing whatever he could with you, you were actually at your limit with him, enough to bring you back enough to start fighting again. You were getting sick of it, actually you think you were getting sick.

His inconsideration was on par with Sukuna's, though Sukuna cared more about his new objects while Toji wants them to know their place and to leave when he tells them to. He had to know why they would do all that for you//how did you survive so long in that clan he just has to see how durable you are and he’s LOVING IT.

- He asks you what you’ve been through and you don’t respond so he hits you again and again but you don’t cry so he does it AGAIN and you flinch enough to stop him, and start taking off his pants. His only response was "e’s like "Oh so they already trained you."

- You suck his dick and he pulls you up to kiss him, by your neck and places you on his dick and fucks you in the air, using gravity to its full advantage, that was the start of it all before the days of relentless attention and use, you were more sore than any of them have put you in. The hitting, cuts, just the amount of violence he's integrated into your sessions felt like training again, but worse.

- He’s wondering if he could keep you as his slut but remembered that it would be stupid to start a war when his kid couldn’t keep it in his pants. He blames Megumi for having a cold heart compared to his father's icy one.

- Toji makes up his mind to help and plans to betray/kill the sukuna clan when they get megumi back bc he doesn’t care but doesn’t say that.

-He plans a meeting with the other clan the top three have been fighting over the position of this location for years and now and ofc they’re all on edge.

- Gojo comes to the meeting with his clan, they’re not worried bc they know some of their clan can befriend some of the others involved. No ones been dead so they have some sort of unspoken treaty to leave each other alone but they never asked much from the other ever.

- Gojo settles down with his group, smug and tired bc everyone needs them to fix other peoples' problems for them. The community relied on the Gojo Clan to protect them when they also work with the Kamo and Zenin gangs, the people outside are just as gullible. He sits down and asks what could big ol Toji need from him,

- “It’s Megumi”

- Gojo drops his smile. Their other unspoken alliance was when Megumi was beaten up at a really young age bc of his status and itadori happened to be there too (same elementary school). Gojo beats the fuck out of the people who targeted the kids/second to heir the clans, and left, but Megumi finds him and asks why would he help them.

- Gojo said he can’t have his competition get angry, his people are at stake. (referencing to the shifting power in-between the gangs that they didn't know about yet, and that his person was leaving his clan to join the other, he didn't know why he was doing anything anymore at that point but he couldn't let more powerless powerful children get hated on.) Megumi says thank you and takes Itadori back near his gang before disappearing back to his clan.

- Gojo actually has been in contact with his friend who's joined the other clan. That's how he knows what's usually going on with them to keep them rangled up and behaving as much as they could to not cause trouble or cause attention to groups like theirs.

Gojo and Geto were very young when they met, and since their lives were everything but normal, they were given the chance to take in more young bodies to add to their clan. They raised them together, but geto left.

Gojo begged for days for him to reconsider, they day he left he was inconsolable, especially since he took the twins too. Geto couldn't separate the girls, but he could separate himself from Gojo, in his head it's to help Gojo in the future because of the power he'll have.

Gojo didn't care about that, he didn't want help he just wanted Geto. That was all he needed, he had decided. He could have ruled the world and done it confidently if he had Geto by his side, but things don't go through when you're young, and now you're about to catch as many years he hadn't been able to get out.

- He's not nice at all when you're under his care. With Geto leaving at a critical age in learning, his feelings had been all over the place. He was completely disordered, his goals and morals and everything went awry, with the years he couldn't get himself out of the timestamp of when he knew happiness.

- So he asks you about Geto, his best friend, the only one that could make him feel real again. The one person who didn't do things for him because of his name and status, and yet left with the excuse of protecting Gojo from future evil. It was enough to drive the strongest insane.

- He asks you everything by torture, not too physical that anyone can see. WHen trading you back you should at least look and act like you're in the same condition, if not better than what you were when they traded you off. Just anything that Toji didn't already give you, Gojo would have mindless enjoyment from digging his fingers into the fatter parts of your belly, legs, and forearms.

- He’s only doing this to see Geto again. He just wants to pass the time until he can finally feel good again. He's strong, he's smart, he's beautiful, when would life be good to him instead of him making everyone else's lives better just by being there. It made him coky, it made him secretly weak willed to his own desires, so his processing was different than most.

- He asks u what he looked like and everything about him while fucking you. it was the closest he’s got rn. "I don't know's" made him reel back more, his strikes becoming almost boneshaking and shattering. He was making Toji seem gentle. Now that something he cares about is just a memory away, he just couldn't stop himself.

-You were so close to him, even if you never spoke to him, even if you never saw him in the maybe month you were staying at the Pink haired clan. But his aura seemed to have darkened when you mentioned twins. There were just so many either of you could have known but it just seemed to rile him up more. Seriously you would need a doctor and healing time after this. You couldn't let that happen again.

-There was nothing else to take from it, it was a hell you would only wish for the person already committing it. It made you miss the tenderness of Sukuna and the warmth of Toji, it didn't matter what they did or how you got there, anything sounded better than Gojo being without his favorite things. And you were barely part of it.

[chiisana-sukima]

Hey so this post just came up on my dash and its an interesting perspective for sure. I was wondering if youd feel inclined to share your thoughts on it but no pressure ofc feel free to ignore.

https://www.tumblr.com/zudilio/648738136098275328/the-thing-is-that-i-miss-the-early-seasons?source=share

Yeah, I saw it on my dash too and considered reblogging with comments, but it's three years old and the OP has said in other posts that they're a "Sam ignorer", so I figured they wouldn't be appreciative. Also, to a certain extent, "they should've given the plot points I don't like to the character I don't care about" is just a matter of taste, so there's not a ton to say about that part anyways.

As far as the "Sam is like John because at the start of the show he's driven by anger and his need for revenge" part, my thoughts on it are here, and @ardentpoop and @aliusfrater have excellent meta here as well.

Leaving aside the piece where I think the OP is wrong about Sam though, I do agree with them that Dean's character arc was mismanaged, and I sympathize with them and all the other Dean girls (gn) who got stuck with *waves vaguely at spn in general*. I agree with OP that Dean isn't an inherently angry person. I don't believe inherently angry people exist, but even beyond that, I don't think the intended reading of spn is that Dean's story is about anger. Gamble said at some point very early on that on the inside Dean is a frightened little boy who never had the chance to grow up, and I do think spn carries that thread through the seasons pretty well all the way to s15, where it attempts (with not-great success imo) to resolve it.

Unfortunately, I also think that spn's failure to resolve Dean's character arc satisfactorily was inevitable, and that the things that attract many fans like OP, who identify with Dean, are the same things that made resolving his issues impossible given the set-up. Just as Sam has a realistic case of poorly-controlled, chronic dissociative/classic PTSD (with psychosis during s7 and some CPTSD-like features) and doesn't have the resources to manage it beyond bare-bones survival, Dean has pretty realistic untreated, chronic CPTSD/BPD without the resources to even begin to manage it in a way that doesn't destroy his own life and the lives of the people around him. Dean's violence stems ultimately from his childhood environment, sure, but the person he is by the time we meet him in s1 has severe attachment issues, difficulty regulating his emotions, poor distress tolerance, black and white thinking in a job where black and white thinking results in victimizing people based on factors they have no control over, and most of all, no real concept of boundaries whatsoever. The cause was for sure his childhood, but the present of spn is just a very symptomatic adult. His mental health issues--and Sam's too--are the kinds of chronic illnesses that never go away and that people struggle with over their entire lifespans.

I don't want to be overly negative; many people with mental illnesses this severe do learn to manage them well and live full and happy lives (I am, within reasonable limits, one of them). But it's hard. And longstanding, deeply-rooted patterns of thoughts, beliefs, and behavior don't change without community resources, considerable effort, and for most people, years of trial and error. Spn's main premise is, for some wild reason, that the problems Sam and Dean encounter are metaphorically equivalent to real life problems normal people encounter all the time, but that in the spn world, all of the resources real world people have available to help them are impossible to access, except guns and torture. It's s13 before spn manages to get Sam and Dean into ONE SESSION of therapy with someone they can tell the truth to, and by then, we get this:

Dean is being a lot less unrealistic here than one might think, and yes, this picture will end badly in real life too.

Since the finale, a lot of fans have said things like "Dean deserved to go to therapy and get better" or "spn thinks if you have trauma, you should kill yourself about it", but deserving is fake. We in the real world live in a The Good Place universe. There's no fair calculus for who "deserves" anything. Everyone both deserves health and happiness and love and a comfortable life and also deserves nothing because there are other people who have nothing.

And unlike ours, the spn universe is not a The Good Place universe. It's worse. The writers of spn are and always have been profoundly ungenerous. The whole universe is built on victim-blaming and bullshit calculi of what crimes deserve what punishments and who should or shouldn't mete them out. In the spn universe, Dean is lucky. He had not one, but two BPD favorite persons, and he treated them both like shit, and they still both loved him and wanted to be with him and will be with him in the afterlife, presumably continuing to have the same intense, volatile relationships they've always semi-tolerated.

I like to pretend that maybe Sam, Dean and Cas can all read The Dialectical Behavior Therapy Skills Workbook on Heaven's version of archive.org and take it to heart, or that maybe Sam grew some boundaries in the years he lived without Dean that he can insist on hard enough and long enough for Dean to get a reparative relationship out of, and they can all after-live happily ever after. But the Dean that was alive during the 15 years of spn hadn't done that work yet, and the outcome he got was--if one subscribes to "deserving" as a concept--better than what he "deserved". If you hit your partner, you deserve to be left. If you hold a gun on them, you deserve for it to go off and kill them by mistake and you never see them again (although of course they don't deserve to die). It doesn't matter who the "angry" partner in the relationship is. Any sane person in this universe or the spn one should be angry a lot of the time, because both universes suck. Not to beat a dead horse with a flowchart but:

image source

The violence is the bastard. The emotions are not.

[purpleyoonn]

enchanted 1

C H A P T E R   O N E 

“I’ll spend forever wondering if you knew I was enchanted to meet you.”

summary: The realm under King Min’s rule had been under war for over thirty years, a war within the inhuman species with origins no one knows. Your presence was brought into awareness when found by the king under the rubble of your home. You are plunged into a world you had only ever seen from the outside, and don’t know how long you can last.

genre: soulmate au, fantasy au, dragon au,

pairing: Dragon King Yoongi x Human MC

status: ongoing (random updates)

warnings: starts in the middle of war, violence, angst, death, supernatural creatures, smut, dragon customs, dragon instincts, more to come

chapter warnings: mentions of past sa, allusions to rape, mentions of war, violence, allusions to murder, mc almost buried alive, injuries, talk of different normalized death and destruction, anxiety, mentions of consequences of speaking about anxiety, mc has ptsd, past trauma, trauma responses, mentions people being eaten alive, 

taglist: @avadakadabra93​ @littlebaby-bunbun​ @veronawrites​ @taempress​ @queen-in-the-shadows​ @suckerforv​ @weepingpickle​ @sugasbultornebae7​ @stupendousliteraturewritingoaf​ 

permanent taglist: @m1sss1mp @yourleftsock @skyys-universe @cryingpages @strxwbloody @drissteele @dustyinkpages @iamkookiesforyou @crushedblackroses @fluffy-canada-pancakes @blaaiissee  @iiitsmaria  @carolinexkpop  @azazel-nyx@strawberry-moonpies @g-h-o-s-t-b-a-b-i @knjkitten @foreverweareyoung7@lachimolala22019 @namuficxs @94z-93 @kimgmzmc @thenaverse@dahliasbouqet @black-rose-29 @tinyoonsblog @take-u-2-an0ther-w0r1d@stellauniverse @stupendouscookiehumanmug @tinyoonsblog @veronawrites@tatyhend @singukieee @m0v3m3ntsblog @exfolitae @butterymin @queen-in-the-shadows @anaspectoflife @welcometomyworld13​ @slinekyu​

playlist 

masterlist // chapter 2 

—————————————–

When you were younger, your father used to read you stories of dragon nights and fairy princesses, how the night would save the princess from the horrible evils keeping her trapped, confined to her dull world.

When you were eight, the human world was brought into the horrors of the supernatural, a long going war that started years before you were born. It seemed that the humans were just vulnerable enough to be taken advantage of; foot solders that were willing to do anything for money or guarantees of safety. If only the humans knew they were being lied to.

The Queen of the Damned had promised safety and riches, but in turn sent her minions to destroy human villages across the land. Around your thirteenth year, the same year the birthmark on your shoulder darkened, the King of Dragons, King Min, had sent out his armies to rescue any human villages still within the Queen’s realm, including your own. 

But he was too late to save your family, crushed under the foot of a giant.

Once the remaining humans from your village were found, you were brought to a village within the King’s realm. One of the general’s had found someone who was willing to take you in, said he was a distant uncle on your father’s side.

You had been there ever since, but it seemed as though the man who took you in had ulterior motives for his kindness. That it needed to be repaid.

“Y/n, it’s time to wake up, the sun is nearly over the hill.” Jinsoo, the eldest of the bunch, was whispering, her hands shaking at your shoulders. You groaned a little but moved to sit up from the cot you shared with Lila on the floor.

You moved gently off the cot, trying not to wake up Lila who had been in charge of dealing with the Lord’s daughter the previous night, bathing her and bringing her late-night snacks. It was a tiring thing, dealing with the children of Lord Ahn, but nothing was worse than dealing with the lord himself.

Once off the cot, you got to your feet and moved over to the hook that held your uniform on it, a simple, cream colored dress and a green apron that tied in the back. You liked that the apron held pockets; the chef sometimes like to sneak the servant’s snacks, like bread and a couple grapes, slipping them in the pockets in passing.

After getting dressed and putting your hair up, you made your way to the main room within the servant’s quarters where the assignments were placed by Lady Ahn. The Lord’s wife had a specific way of upkeeping the manor, and always needed to make sure everything was up to her standards.

And her standards were high, almost unrealistic at times, especially when there were guests in the manor. The Ahn’s liked to entertain guests, mostly other Lord’s and Lady’s that held the same standards as the Ahn’s.

One day you remember having to trim the grass below one of the balconies with a single blade, Lady Ahn claiming that her friend had only wanted to see grass blades of the same height under her balcony. You spent an entire day cutting the blades of grass individually, under the watchful eye of Lord Ahn and his friend.

You had to wait a couple of seconds behind two other girls before you were able to see your name and your assignment. You had been assigned to clearing the Lord and Lady’s room and straightening up one of the guest bedrooms along with laundry, a chore only recently tacked onto your shoulders.

You sighed before deciding that you could wash the laundry first, working on the rooms as you let the cloths dry. You moved back from the assignment board, a couple other girls taking your place before rolling your shoulders and moving towards the laundry baskets. You grab two of them before making your way to the hallway that led to the kitchens, the only entrance to the servant’s quarters.

As you walk down the long hallway, your mind flashes back to the dream you had last night, the same man with the same shoulder length hair that has been keeping you company since you had been brought here. Most of your dreams took place in a flower garden, his hand in yours as he brings you to the center.

He was always silent, but you felt safe with him, unlike something you’ve ever felt before. Every time he looked at you, your cheeks would become red with heat, his eyes anchoring you to him. It made you want to give him flowers, bring him your favorites treasures with the only hope that he would smile at you.

Last night’s dream was something different, though. He was holding you in his arms, something surrounding you as he pressed a kiss to your temple. The atmosphere was warm, and you could feel something wet hitting your shoulder. It left you confused when you woke up, the same feeling of being warm, of being loved sat in your chest, making the rest of your body warm.

The kitchen was already bustling when you walked through the entryway. Greeting the chef and his assistant you move swiftly through the door on the left of the room, leading directly into the dining hall. You never had the pleasure of being assigned the hall, your facial expressions always getting you into trouble. Enough where you had spent over a year learning how to keep your face emotionless. Instead, you were assigned the menial chores of cleaning and “assisting” Lord Ahn in his study.

You move over to the side hallway, just to the right of the doorway you’ve just entered through. It led to the laundry chute and is where the servants held all of the cleaning materials like cloths and the cleaning solution that Hana makes. You can’t help but to roll your eyes when you see the sodden sheets held within the bin that came from the eldest son’s room.

Like his father, the eldest son, Daesung, had a habit of taking the servants into his quarters. Also, like his father, Daesung had a nasty habit of striking out whenever someone told him no. It was learned that it was easier to just let things happen than to risk your life.

You wonder who he took this time, but figured you’d probably find out later that morning when you met the other girls for lunch. It had only been a couple of weeks since you had last seen Daesung, he had only returned the day before after venturing to the next town over, trying to find a wife under Lord Ahn’s command.

Grabbing the supplies you needed and the soiled cloths, you begin to head for the river, since Lady Ahn refused to have you clean the sheets in the sinks. You were lucky not to run into any of the Lord’s family on your way out, your lungs able to breathe easier once you made it outside and away from the prying eyes of the family.

Oddly enough, you loved being outside, where only the trees and the stream could be heard. It helped you be calm, to ease your thoughts and feelings. It was something your mother used to do whenever you got too into your head. She would take you outside, to the lavender patch that resided just outside your small cottage.

“Darling, the earth beneath our feet can do so much more than just grow our food and provide shade from the sun. It can give power to our very souls.” Your mother would tell you as she braided daisies into your hair, something that always managed to calm you down.

“What power, mama?”

“The power to be calm, like the river that runs through the forest. To keep steady even in the face of destruction. But most of all, it gives you the power to live, to face whatever comes your way.” You never understood what she meant, but over time, you realize the peace you felt in the forest was more than enough to understand and take in.

You felt truly at peace when surrounded by the earth and her makings.

And it seemed as though the forest felt the same way, like it listened to your heart beat. You never had trouble walking, unlike your friends who always tripped over roots or broken branches. The flowers you picked always seemed to look the best or give off the strongest scent.

Even now, as you walked down the hill and to the river, the ground seemed to flatten as you advanced. You just figured you and the earth had some kind of understanding with each other.

The river was soothing as you took a seat on the grass, pulling out the bar soap Lady Ahn had you use and the washing board she had brought back from one of her many trips; she claimed it made the cloths extra clean.

It had taken you only an hour to scrub down the sheets and couple of pairs of pants in the basket before you brought them over to the line to hang and dry. Once you had all the wet sheets hung, you grabbed your basket with the washing board and soap and brought them back inside, placing them in the closet before you grabbed your basket of cleaning supplies and made your way upstairs where the Lord and his family had their rooms.

You tried to be as quiet as you could, not wanting to deal with the family this morning, at least, more than you needed to. Once you reach the top of the stairs, you move to the end of the hallway, on the right, and knock on the door. You wait, not receiving an answer, and decide its empty and thus safe to go on.

Another soft sigh leaves your lips when you see the sheets on the ground and clothing hanging off the end of the love seat near the wall. You already know you’re going to have to make your way back down to the river.

You heft the basket onto the floor before moving to the sheets. You use the bottom of one of Lady Ahn’s dresses to grab onto the sheet to put down the laundry chute, grabbing the rest of the items on the floor and doing the same thing. You begin to straighten up the furniture before moving back to your basket, picking out the cleaning solution and a rag before wiping down the dresser, night table, and the bed frame.

Once this was done, you move to the linen closet and grab an extra pair of bedding and begin to make the bed. When you bend over the bed to straighten out the bottom sheet, you feel a hand grab at your butt. 

You jump and turn around to see Lord Ahn behind you, a smile on his lips as he looks down at you.  You stand up, dropping the sheet from your hands as you bring them around to claps behind your back.

“I see the new uniforms fit nicely.” Lord Ahn looked you up and down, even moving your apron out of the way so he could see your figure in the dress. You bit your cheek as his hand brushed against the side of your breast.  

“You should say thank you. We didn’t have to get you new clothes. Hmm?” Lord Ahn’s smile turns up, cheek pushed upwards as he winks at you. You take a deep breath in before speaking the words you know he wants to hear.

“Thank you, Lord Ahn. Your kindness is appreciated.” The words leave your lips, rehearsed and repeated so many times that they tumble out of your mouth on command. The smile he gives at your words is big and genuine. He is beyond happy at the training he has given the servants.

“Now, why don’t you let me see what you look like without them, hmm?” Lord Ahn hums again, reaching for the back of your apron to untie. You don’t move, just tighten your grip on your laced hands as he unties the string. Once the apron is loose, he moves to pull it over your head when the door to the room opens, Lady Ahn and one of the male servants, Minho, stands on the other side.

You relax, knowing the Lord isn’t going to do anything with his wife nearby. She hates what her husband and son do but doesn’t care if she doesn’t know. The Lord drops his hands from the apron, and takes a step back from you, winking again before turning around.

“Uhm, Lord Ahn, there is someone outside causing a ruckus. He is yelling for you and keeping us from doing our duties.” Minho lets out, his body standing tense and still as he does.

“Yes, darling, the man is becoming a nuisance and I would like him dealt with.” Lady Ahn gestures for her husband, pulling him away from you as she gives you a dirty glare, one that means you were going to be on midnight duty that night.

You stand still, waiting until you were the only one left in the room before retying your apron around your back and finishing the room before you experience any more unwanted or unneeded disturbances.

It took a little longer since you were interrupted, but you managed to finish it quickly, remaking the bed, cleaning the windows and even going outside to pick flowers for Lady Ahn’s bedside table, hoping to appease her a little. You didn’t want to deal with Lady Ahn, claiming you were going after her husband again.

Once you were done with the Lord and Lady’s room, you moved to the guest bedroom at the other end of the hall, preparing it for the guests who were supposed to be coming the next morning.

When you entered the room, you were shocked by the appearance of Lady Ahn. She was sitting in the small chair that resided to the left of the window. You remined silent as you watched her acknowledge your presence, getting to her feet and making her way to you.

“Now, we have a special visitor coming later and I want this room to be perfect. Grab the good candles from my closet, and the silk linens from our special collection. If the room is not up to my standards, or the standards of our guest, you can kiss your life here goodbye. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, my Lady.” You bow your head slightly, waiting for her to let you know you could go. But she doesn’t, instead, Lady Ahn walks out of the open door behind you, not another word sent your way.

“Okay…” You let out, once you were sure that no one could hear you. You begin to clean the guest room the same way you always would, following the word of the Lady and using her good silk linens and grabbing three candles from her closet. You placed one either side of the bed and one on the dresser across from the bed.

Once you figure the room was clean to Lady Ahn’s standards, you move back to the first floor and to the closet, putting your basket away and moving to grab the laundry you had pushed down the chute earlier. You make sure to try and grab some gloves, not wanting to touch any of the sheets or clothing from the Lord’s room.

The river was starting to warm up, but still cold as you sat again by the river. You had flashbacks to finding Mela’s body at the bottom of the hill, the sunlight coming through the trees almost the same as the day you found her. You remember the way Lila had cried out, rushing towards the body of your friend and bedmate, your own body frozen in shock.

The body had started to come up in your dreams, even going as far as to be awaiting you and the mystery man in the garden. You remember the way Lord Ahn’s face had turned when you and Lila had gone to him, to inform him of what they had found. The way he smiled is seared into your retina, the words his spoke imprinted into your brain.

“Why don’t you two get back to work.”

He cared nothing for your friend and it had you questioning if he was the one who had done it, but there was nothing you could do. You had nothing outside of the manor. You knew no one would take you in, let you have a job or place to stay. Not during the war raging on outside of the walls. So, you listened, continued on with your chores despite the spiral your brain had taken.

You shook your head as you got out the soap from the bottom of the basket, rubbing against the washing board you had rested against the side of the river. You had to be quick, quiet as you worked. The woods were becoming increasingly dangerous over the past couple months. 

Stories of trolls and ghouls making their travels to the neighboring villages. You didn’t want to alert anyone or anything of your presence, even the animals waking from their slumber.

Your mind turned back to a time when you were in school, around the age of seven or eight, learning about the beginning of the war. Your teacher had an entire weeklong lesson on the creatures the Queen was known to utilize, putting the most emphasis on the Ghoul.

A ghoul was a reanimated body filled with the magical essence of the caster who brought it back. They were basically dead bodies filled with magic instead of a soul. Their eyes were uncharacteristically white, irises and pupils gone. Skin grey and ashen, almost see through as their bodies had begun to decompose.

Ghouls were also exceptionally well at sensing humans. Their bodies were attuned to the heartbeat of what they used to be, and they fed on the flesh of their past. It was thought that they could hear or smell a human from miles away.

Your teacher had tried to drill into your head that your safety was only ensured if you remained silent, something that stuck with you, even to this day. It was something that served you well, kept you alive as you went through your days under Lord Ahn and his reign.

“Y/n!” You turned your head, seeing Taemin coming to a stop, leaning on his tree to catch his breath. “Are you almost done? Lord Ahn is wanting all of us to come back to the manor. He seems upset.” Your eyes widen in fear, scrambling to gather the half-washed cloths and washing board, getting to your feet.

“Do you have any idea what happened?” You asked your friend as you both ran back up the hill and to the manor.

“No. All I heard was that Jeongmin can rushing out of his room with bruises all over her face.” You sigh out, knowing he could be mad at anything. Poor Jeongmin just had to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. You wonder if she refused him, even with you and the other girls telling her to go along with it for her own safety.

Jeongmin was one of the newer girls, acquired after her home village was set ablaze during a battle between King Min’s army and the ghouls who had been sent by the Queen to torment.

“Is she okay?” You ask, worried for the younger girl.

“Hana is with her, helping her clean up and put medicine on her cuts.” Oh, that meant Lord Ahn was exceptionally upset. He typically didn’t leave any marks like that, not in anger at least.  

“Well, let’s hurry. We don’t want to give him any more reasons to be angry.” You breathe out, picking up your pace with a tight hold on the basket. Your heart was beating into your throat as you picked up your pace, almost smashing into the back door; you weren’t allowed to use the front door for any reason.

Pushing through the back door next to the servant’s quarters, you hastily set your laundry basket down on the kitchen counter, not surprised when you find the room empty. You rush through the room, almost knocking Taemin down as your hips bump together. Once you get out of the kitchen and through the dining hall, you race to the end of the line of servants and workers, just barely making it before Lord Ahn begins to speak.

“Now, it has come to my…attention,” You watch as his eyes cut over to a silently crying Jeongmin, her hands crossed in front of her stomach and her head bowed. “that a few of my loyal workers have decided to go against my rules and wishes of remaining pure and have had relations with each other.”

Your eyes go wide at the information he was spouting. It was a common thing amongst the workers to have relationships and be intimate while off duty and in the quarters. You knew a few of your friends who were in relationships, including Minho, Taemin, and Lila. You yourself hadn’t really done anything with another person, to worried about being caught and consequently losing your home and livelihood. You can only pray that Jeongmin wasn’t forced to tell the Lord any names.

“You all know the rules, that I don’t expect much when you come into my household.” Lord Ahn’s voice had become deeper, darker as he spoke making your breath hitch, trying not to move. He was now moving down the hall where you all were lined up, looking everyone in the eyes as he spoke.

He was no almost in front of you, eyes looking you and Taemin up and down, probably wondering why you were late to this household meeting. He opened his mouth to say something else when the far off sound of one of the villages sirens went off, leading to the one closer to the manor to go off.

It was like a whirlwind of panic resounded throughout the hall, you being the first to move from the line, hoping to bolt outside when Lord Ahn’s arm shot out and held onto your arm, his fingers dangerously close to your breast as he pulled you closer to him.

“Where do you think you are going?” His lips were close to brushing against your own as he moved in. You could feel Taemin move closer to you, ready to pull you from your master’s bruising grip.

“That is the unhuman siren, sir.” You retort back, trying your hardest to control your tone as you spoke, your face emotionless from years of practice. You knew better.

“And? I did not give anyone permission to move from their spots in line.” He snaps back, pushing you away from him and you would have fallen if Taemin had not caught you and helped you steady yourself.

“Now, this is a new development. Since you all seem to think the agreements we made when you first got here are null, I think it’s time you learn your lessons.” Lord Ahn begins to move back, towards the split in the hallway that would lead him to the front door.

“You all can remain here, know what it means to be wards of Lord Ahn. Keep my manor clean, as I’m still sure we can be expecting our esteemed guest soon. My family and I will go and see what is going on.” The same smile he wore when he was taking advantage of you was worn on his lips, the glint in his eyes meaning he knew exactly what was going on outside of the manor.

He planned to trap you in here and save himself and his family. You were in shock. You looked back at Taemin, wondering if he heard and saw what you did, only for his mouth to be open, eyes matching yours.

“Jinyoung, Hanmin, come. I’m sure my family and I will need help.” You watch the two larger men walk forward, hearing them grumble under their breathes as they walked past you.

Once the three men were out of hearing distance, you turned to look for Jinsoo, but you didn’t see her. You can only assume she is assisting Lady Ahn. Hana, the second eldest, begins to reassure the rest of us that nothing was going to happen, that we were fine as long as we stayed in the manor. She set about giving us jobs in pairs or groups, picking you to go along with her and finish the laundry in the kitchen sink while she continued the chef’s job.

Once in the kitchen, you notice some of the cupboards open and the counters a mess. You move to one of the open cabinets on your left, seeing it empty instead of filled with the new loaves of bread to cool. Turning around, you see Hana doing the same thing.

“They took all of the food, didn’t they?” You ask, your voice in a shocked whisper as you see the look of defeat on her face. Hana nods her head before schooling her features and turning to where you left the basket of half-washed cloths.

“Here, let’s get you started over here.” She says as she moves over to the sink, turning on the water and putting the washing board in the sink and the soap on the counter. You stood still, your mind still whirling with too many thoughts and memories.

Hana sees this and comes over to you, helping you move to the sink and places a cloth and soap in your shaking hands.

“Here, maybe doing something will get your mind off of it.” Hana knew about your memories, how they always seemed to make you shake and freeze. She kept it quiet because if anyone found out about it, you could be carted off to a men’s home or killed on the stake. You would be more likely to be sent to the stake because you were a woman, something you absolutely despised.

Hana turned around to the other countertop and began slicing the vegetables the chef left on the counter. She was humming a tune familiar to you, something she always hummed when she was anxious or nervous.

“We are not going to make it out of here, are we?” Your voice is shaky, just like your hands. You don’t turn around to see her, so you miss the way a tear drops onto the counter and her hands begin to shake. Hana doesn’t even bother to answer, not wanting to lie to you or get your hopes up.

You spend a couple minutes in silence, listening out for another siren, or even screams when both begin to sound out in front of the manor. The screams sound like they are almost coming from right outside, making you drop the bar soap and scrub brush in your hands.

“Stay here.” You hear Hana say as she turns to you, her hand out to gesture you to keep put before moving towards the dining halls so she could look out the windows on the far wall. You resign to follow her words, until another scream comes from inside the manor. You shoot from the sink and move to the servant’s quarters, running to the safety of your room.

At least, until you see ghouls outside coming towards the back side of the manor from all sides. They could smell you all inside. It was like you were surrounded, more screams from inside the manor breaking out. You noticed some of the men who worked at the manor running away from the ghouls, cries coming from your lips as you see one being dragged to the ground and his arm being bitten into.

A crackling noise has you moving from the small window you were peeking out of. You had no clue where it was coming from, but the noise got louder and louder until you noticed the wooden walls of the room seemed to be pushing inwards from force. A loud, dragged out groan makes you turn toward the door, slowly creeping forward until you were looking out the doorway and into the hall, seeing a shadow figure slowing inching towards you.

You covered your mouth, holding back a sob as you realized you were trapped in the room. You looked around, hoping for any chance or sign of you being able to get out of the room but you didn’t fit through the windows, you’d barley be able to get your thigh through the slot.

You try to remember what your teacher had told you, all those years ago about the different ways to kill those unhumans we might come into contact with. You knew Giants could be killed by dragon fire, or by silver to the head. Trolls could be killed by being bludgeoned to the head or by being buried. And ghouls could only be killed by dragon fire, the opposite magic to that of a witch.

You were screwed unless someone of the royal army came by soon.

Just as you tried to look for some weapon to at least keep the ghoul away from you, you were being buried under the rubble of the roof as the servant’s quarter collapsed. Your vision was blurry as the rubble settled down and you found yourself a couple of feet away from the ghoul who had been in the hallway, its hands and upper body trying to climb out from under the debris.

You were in a similar position, legs stuck beneath one of the stone columns of the side of the main manor that was attached to the wooden walls of the quarters for support. You could move and feel your legs but was unable to life the column from on top of your legs. You pushed all you could, but only managed to move the column the slightest inch.

A couple of loud roars from above had you scrambling, knowing they were going to begin setting fire to the ghouls, and you were going to be caught in the crossfire if you didn’t get your legs out from under the rubble.

You became trapped in tunnel vision, no sound or feelings being noticed as you hyper focused on the column on your leg, using all your might to push it off of you. You didn’t notice the debris flying or any signs of someone coming closer, walking on the rubble until a loud growl came from in front of you and the column went flying.

You looked up to see King Min, having recognized him from one of the posters hung up in the village market. His eyes were red as he hissed through his fangs. You could just make out the outlines of his wings in the sunlight. He reached forward making you curl back in fear, your body tense as he moves closer.

“Please..” You whimper out, not knowing what the King planned to do, but you felt his hands picking you up, one arm underneath your injured legs and the other hand holding the back of your head, pushing it until your head rested against the juncture between his neck and shoulder.

“Mate.” He whispered into your hair, making your breath catch in the back of your throat. That word has you blinking away even more tears, caused by what, you have no clue as a slew of emotions moved through you. Your fingers moved to grip his button down, a few of the buttons popping loose as he moved, making you grip tighter onto the fabric.

King Min moves quickly, walking out of the rubble and into the trees, a clearing by the river coming into the view as he shifts, his wings breaking out from the back of his shirt, the rest of his shirt now loose in your grip as he begins to fly away to a place unknown to you.

-*-*-

Yoongi was already having a bad day, under the watchful eye of his best friend and personal guard Namjoon. He woke up to notices of that damned Queen setting ghouls onto two of the villages that lay on the outer ring of his kingdom. 

He was about an hours flight from either of the villages, and his advisor Seokjin, had talked to one of his father’s appointed Lord’s and set him up for the night to investigate the scenes with some of his royal guard accompanying him.

His magical advisor was named Jimin, and he had been rescued by Yoongi’s father when he was a little boy, left to die after his family abandoned him during a raid. He was one of the people going with him to see the villages, as he could sense the magical signature left behind.

He almost never went to actually investigate anything in his kingdom, too busy to leave the castle most days, but for some reason Seokjin was insistent on Yoongi going along, with Jimin bribing him special citrus pies. So, Yoongi set his work aside or gave some to Seokjin, and took the next two days off, setting off in the late morning to the first village.

The first village was completely decimated, ghouls and golems sent to destroy and ravage through the land. He even found a few left over golems still trying to use a hammer to smash a fountain. He had Namjoon burn them and Jimin found their magical signature to lead to one of the warlocks who previously managed to get away from them a week ago.

It was now early afternoon, and he along with his guard were moving to the second village when he received the alert form a scout that another village was in the beginning of being attacked by ghouls.

Yoongi gave the okay to move quickly, hoping they could prevent any more lives lost. Within five minutes he could feel his soulmark burning, letting out a painful roar as he dipped low. As they got closer to the new village, he realized it was the one he was supposed to be staying at that night, and that there was a new scent making him want to release control to his inner dragon and drag the scent to his den.

He knew his mate was close, and for the first time, he was eager to find them. Consequences be damned as he flew faster, urging himself to push through the pain from his mark. He knew his mate was in danger and he needed to be quick.

Yoongi followed the scent of honey and almond, ignoring the saliva building in the back of his throat. What it led to had the fire now building in his throat as he witnessed the ghouls had already destroyed most of the village, half eaten bodies laying in various positions on the ground. 

He chased after the scent of his mate, finding the manor he was supposed to stay in mostly intact, but when he went around, he saw a wooden building had been destroyed, fire now moving slowly over the wreckage.

He roared again when he found his mate trapped under a broken column and a ghoul only feet away from her. He would have cried in any other situation, meeting his mate finally, but now, now all he wanted to do destroy anything in his path…once he made sure his mate was safe.

He saw you moving, arms pushing with all your might as your face turned red, trying to dislodge your legs from under the column. He got so mad he growled out, pushing the column off your leg and listening to it shatter against a tree a hundred yards away.

When you were freed, it was like you only just realized he was in front of you. He recognized the look of fear and recognition on your face but ignored it and moved forward, his only instinct right now was to make sure you were safe, in his arms, and away from the dragon fire coming this way.

“Please…” His eyes almost rolled into the back of his wings as he finally heard your voice, as sweet as the scent you gave off. He just continued forward, picking you up and pushing your head into his neck, hoping you would be comforted by his own scent.

“Mate.” He couldn’t help but whisper into your hair, as if his inner dragon was speaking through him, verbally confirming what he already knew.

Yoongi ignored the way your fingers tightened on his shirt, watching as the top button popped off and flew into the rubble. He moved away quickly, holding you steady as he fumbled on the rubble and through the grass, trying to get to the clearing as quickly as he could. He knew any second his guard was going to start setting fire to kill all the ghouls.

Once the clearing comes into view, he let his wings form from the marks on his back, half way shifting so he could still hold his little mate tight to his chest, His shirt was now loose against his mate’s grip, he ignores the tingles coming from where your skin connects with his, embarrassed at the small moan he had to choke back.

He didn’t notice when you fainted, your grip still tight on his shirt. He didn’t wait for his guard; he just began to fly back to the castle. He needed for the royal doctor to see you. Yoongi didn’t like the look of the bruises across your legs, or the ones showing from the torn sleeve of your dress.

Every jostle he felt, another groan left your lips, making him wince. It was like he couldn’t fly fast enough, the burning he felt in his wings was nothing compared to the burning he felt in his soulmark.

He swooped down onto the landing outside his room once he got to the castle and held you tighter as he moved to the medical wing, yelling for his head healer. He quickly moved to the royal medical suite and placed you on the bed. He stayed close to your side, rustling the blankets and pillows to make you comfy, unknowingly making you a little nest like his instincts told him to.

Yoongi stood by your side, watching the door carefully as soon as he heard footsteps rushing towards them. His lips were pulled up in a snarl, eyes still burning red as his instincts screamed at him to protect his new mate. He could feel his claws extending as the door opens, his body still rung tight even as he sees his head healer walk in.

“Your Majesty, we were not expecting you back so…” The healers’ words drift off once he sees you in the bed, the nest made around your body, and the way the King stood next to you, his dragon features out.

“Oh my.” The healer breathes out, taking a couple of steps closer until he is about a foot away, freezing when Yoongi lets out a warning growl.

“Please, your Majesty, if you want me to heal her Majesty, I need to be able to get closer.” The healer waited before seeing the slightest of nods sent his way, moving slowly as he knew any sudden movements would set off the already tense and upset dragon king.

The healer took a good look at your legs, asking the King to gently move them so he could see the extent of the damage, knowing if he touched you, he would be dead in an instant. He noticed you had some bruising and cuts along the front of your calves, and that there seemed to be no permanent damage. Once he had Yoongi put your legs down, Yoongi pointed to your arms, his dragon having fully taken over once the healer walked in.

The healer noticed the bruising on your arms, scared for whoever caused the marks.

“It seems, your Highness, that someone had grabbed her Majesty tightly. There are handprints right here.” He pointed to the finger marks on your arm, trying not to tense at the low growl that was building in the King’s chest. He was surprised you were still out, but he reasoned you felt comfortable and safe being so close to your mate.

“I will need to give her some ointment and bandage her Majesty’s legs and arm for the bruising.” The healer warns Yoongi, not wanting to do anything to set him off.

The healer worked slowly under the watchful eye of Yoongi, wrapping up the cuts and bruising on your legs and the bruising on your arm before letting Yoongi know that you would need your legs rebandaged in the morning so he can make sure there was no infections but that you could go.

Yoongi relented, not liking the fact that this male was this close to his mate while she was unmarked. His dragon didn’t recognize the healer as safe, so he was on edge and practically flew you back to his room.

Once you were safe in his room, laying in his bed surrounded by his scent, only then could he begin to relax.

Next Chapter

[selfaware-bungou-stray-dogs]

Requests in my inbox. Part 2

Time to update my list. Few things to be noted:

1. I might mixed up anon and non-anon requests. So, don't worry, if you were sure, that you have send your request as (non) anon, but in the list it in opposite group.

2. There are few more asks in my inbox, but, they are lean closer to asking a simple question and don't require to write a fic (or bullet fic). So, I didn't include them.

3. Thank you all for all interesting ideas and requests.

Anon

1. Ayatsuji Yukito, Akutagawa Ryunosuke and Selectively Mute Reader

2. Reader commited S* because of bullying

3. Something with Self-Aware! Chuuya

4. Teen! Autistic! Reader

5. Reader are extremely beautiful and feminine

6. Reader are also a character in anime and still aren't Self-Aware

7. Child! Reader are independent, because they came from abusive family (Dazai, Poe, Fukuzawa)

8. Reader main Ayato (Fitzgerald)

9. Teen! Reader who are a straight A student

10. Ranpo is Reader's favorite character

11. BEAST AU and Guiding Light

12. Reader are like Kanade Yoisaki

13. Teen! Reader were turned into a baby (Hunting Dogs)

14. Reader have an ability, that works in a dark (Sun/Moon inspired)

15. Reader casually mention 2016 clown craze

16. Guiding Light have a cheating partner (Hunting Dogs)

17. Reader are similar to Ariana Grande (short, can ran a marathon while wearing heels, will fall after taking a step, wearing slippers)

18. Something with Self-Aware! Francis

20. Characters reaction on hearing a rap about them

21. Characters learn about Final Destination movies

22. Reader play BSD together with their best friend

23. Reader are a stage actor in BSD on Stage and play Dazai

24. Traveler-like! Reader

25. Another anime became Self-Aware (JJK)

26. Reader are underweight

27. Reader are a dub actor for someone from BSD

28. Reader are a smart 5-6 years old (Tetchou and Chuuya)

29. Furina! Reader

30. Reader gain an ability

31. Aroace! Reader

32. How BSD Characters will feel about Idol/Cosplayer Reader

33. Reader got home injured

34. Reader turned into a cat

35. Really Tall! Teenage! Reader

36. Teen! Reader who like to press buttons

37. Only BEAST AU became Self-Aware

38. Child! Reader didn't understand implications about Mori

39. Reader are like Izana Kurokawa

40. Genderfluid! GrayAce! Reader with PTSD from abusive friendship

41. Reader roast people's cooking on TikTok

42. Reader randomly mention funny events

43. Teen! Reader who came from Troubled Teen Industry

44. BSD being overprotective over Teen! Reader

45. Reader turned into a cat (2nd request)

46. Jingliu! Reader

47. Child! Reader with fear of abandonment

49. Reader have a dark past (Dazai, Atsushi and Chuuya)

50. Child Prodigy Reader

51. Male! Reader has Cyno's sence of humor

52. Reader have a mental disorder

53. Semi-romantic Chuuya x Adult! Reader

54. Focalor! Reader

55. Reader become angry because of an Imposter

56. Teen! Reader are a raging metalhead

57. Reader are a White Hat Hacker

58. SAGAU Cult AU

59. Self-Aware! Genshin and Self-Aware! BSD interactions

60. Reader died in Teyvat and returned to the real world

61. Reader have some ideas, how to help BSD Cast (Imposter au)

62. Reader are good at fitting things in places

63. Reader were SA by their Step-Father

64. Reader want to be an artist

65. Reaction to Bungou to alchemist

66. Feral! Teen! Reader

67. Child! Reader have a lung disease

68. Teen! Reader have troubles with following schedules

69. Reader are Aventurine

70. Imposter AU. Reader were SA

71. Child! Reader screaming while singing to a metal

72. Reader randomly cuddle with BSD Characters

73. Teen! Reader copy Mori's, Dazai's and Ango's behavior

74. Mori is Reader's favorite character

75. Reader has Karma's (assasination classroom) personality

Non-anon

1. Flirty! Ace! Reader

2. Reader are busy and didn't play BSD that much

3. Jouno and Tetchou with Reader, who play viola

4. Reader have an OC they ship with BSD Character

5. Platonic Yanderes Atsushi and Kyuoka with Teen! Reader

6. DOA make Mitsuri! Reader a new uniform

7. Yandere! Chuuya with Requester's OC-based! Reader

8. FNAF Crossover (Reader survived The Missing Kids Incident)

9. Reader is similar to Kagura Mikazuchi

10. Reader's favorite character is PM Dazai and Reader are ashamed because of it

11. Reader have magic

12. Reader is a very good cosplayer

13. Classroom of the elite crossover (Reader escaped the White Room)

14. Hilichurls protect Reader (Imposter AU)

15. BSD Characters react to some theories (Atsushi, Chuuya, Rimbaud, Verlaine)

16. BSD Cast arrive on Reader's birthday

17. Reader are chill person with morbid sence of humor

18. Reader is a magical girl (Logicalist)

19. Diluc and Akutagawa (Imposter AU)

20. Reader have a character-based account

21. Reader is a dancer

22. Reader is an artist with uncurable disease

24. Reader are happy to go to the beach in Genshin world

25. Ballerina! Reader

26. Male! Teen! Reader who is neglected by his parents, but have two big sisters

27. Reader are a mafioso's child

28. Nikolai vs Lyney

29. Atsushi vs Tighnari

30. Reader have smarts of Kevin from Home Alone

31. Guiding Light has powers

32. Reader in Liyue (Imposter AU)

33. Reader were executed, but returned back to life (imposter au)

34. Ranpo x Fem! Reader

35. Teen! Reader failed a test

36. Scarecrow! Reader (imposter au, lots of fandoms)

37. Reader are a BSD Character and were killed

38. Male! Reader are a voice actor

39. BSD Cast react to same voice actors

40. Child! Reader from this fic end up in Teyvat

41. Filipino! Teen! Reader singing Orange and Lemons and Eraserheads songs

42. Emo! Fem! Reader

43. SCP-999! Fem! Reader

44. BEAST! BSD and Protective! OG! BSD

Event

5. Soukoku

6. Karma

7. Fyodor, Dazai

8. Oda, Dazai

9. Mori, Natsume, Fukuzawa

10. Chuuya and Dazai

11. Flags

12. Akutagawa, Atsushi, Dazai

13. Fukuzawa, Mori, Natsume

14. OG! Soukoku and BEAST! Soukoku

15. BEAST! Dazai

16. BEAST! Shin Soukoku

17. BEAST! Soukoku

18. Nikolai

19. Port Mafia

20. Dazai, Fyodor

21. Goncharov, Shibusawa, Gogol (fem! Reader, Tsaritsa-focused)

22. Koyou

24. DOA

25. Frankenstein, Chuuya, Verlaine

26. Q

27. Verlaine

28. Dazai and BEAST! Dazai

29. Soukoku (Teen! Reader)

30. Verlaine, Rimbaud, Chuuya

31. Buraiha trio

32. Fyodor and Nikolai

33. BEAST Dazai, Yumeno, BEAST Akutagawa

34. Ayatsuji, Tsujimura, Ango

35. Organisations' Leaders (Fukuzawa, Mori, Fitzgerald, Fyodor, Fukuchi, Chief Taneda)

36. Flags