#like that is who i am right now. i am nothing else.

[saikenakoego]

Last one before I try doing it with another character (and before i force myself to get back to work on art and stuff lol)

With the usual lady herself. The scourge of the undead and the paranormal alike. Hunter of monsters. Breaker of bones (and hearts). EATER OF RARE HAMBURGERS.

The unwilling vampire, Sammy!

vvvvvvvvvvvvvvvv This gal! vvvvvvvvvvvvvvv

This one is really long, so I'll be dividing them by sections like the original!

Appearance

1. What is your favorite physical trait that you possess?

SM: If I could, I'd be feeling flustered right now. But since I can, I'll just say something at random.

SM: ...

SM: Hair.

2. What would you wear if they told you you had to gussy up?

SM: ...

SM: I AM gussied up.

3. Is there anything about your appearance that you would change if possible?

SM:

SM: Hope that answers your question.

4. Do you have a favorite material that you like to wear?

SM: Denim or leather. Easy to wash, hardy enough. Hides bloodstains.

5. What's your opinion on scars?

SM: I miss them.

6. How much do you take interest in trends?

SM: More than I'd like to. Apex predators have to stay at the top of the game.

SM: Oh, you mean fashion trends? About the same. Even if I don't feel anything, I want to look my best when I put the bloodsuckers back in their graves.

7. Is there someone you try to look similar to?

SM: Myself. From about 2 years ago.

8. Do you have a physical trait that you're known for?

SM: Take a guess.

9. What do you smell like?

SM: Wouldn't you like to know. Good enough, is what I'll say.

10. If you could splurge on a particular garment, what would it be?

SM: Sunglasses. Or a new jacket. Anything that can help keep me cool.

11. Is your favorite color a color you wear often?

SM: Yeah.

12. Have you gone through major stylistic or physical changes?

SM: I guess you could say somethin' like that.

13. What is something you would refuse to wear?

SM: Anything degrading.

14. Is there a style you're afraid you can't pull off?

SM: Average.

15. Would you wear something someone else picked for you?

SM: Silver picked this outfit for me. It's easy to move in and looks good, so I don't mind.

16. Is your appearance more telling or deceiving?

SM: What a way to ask about it. Hopefully the first one.

17. What are your thoughts on wearing costumes?

SM: It's been tainted for me, the whole "human pretending to be a monster" thing. But if it's for innocent fun, I try not to mind.

18. Do you have a favorite outfit?

SM: I feel like I already answered this.

19. If you had to get a tattoo, what would it be?

SM: Crucifix. Practical reasons.

Objects

1. Is there an item you don't like to live without?

SM: Crucifixes. Have to keep them upside down, though.

2. What gift would you give to someone you didn't like, but felt obligated to?

SM: Something as cheap as generic as possible. A card or something.

3. What object is likely to catch your attention?

SM: The answer is inside you. Literally.

4. Is there an item you liked that you can't get back?

SM: Don't think so. None that I recall.

5. Would you ever try to haggle?

SM: Depends. For what?

6. Is there something you're proud to own?

SM: I can't feel pride anymore. But I used to brag a lot about my cd collection.

7. Do you ever spend more time than you have?

SM: I have all the time in the world. But I do spend more time than I should...

8. What would it take for you to give up an item you like?

SM: A stake, or cash. Depends.

9. Do you prefer to give or receive gifts?

SM: As long as they're useful, receive.

10. Is there a type of object you don't like?

SM: Anything that can cause bodily harm. And I don't mean to myself.

11. What might an acquaintance think is a good gift for you?

SM: Burger.

12. Do you personify objects?

SM: No, but I know someone who does.

13. What do you most enjoy shopping for?

SM: Nothing in particular.

14. Is there an item you're embarrassed to own or want?

SM: Again, I can't feel embarrassment anymore.

15. Would you prefer something bought or made personally?

SM: Something that functions.

16. Are you willing to ask for things?

SM: Who isn't?

17. What is most important to you when shopping?

SM: Keeping an eye on the budget. Unlike some people I know.

Food and Drink

1. What flavor would you say your personality is?

SM: Bitter.

2. Would you prefer baking, cooking or mixing drinks?

SM: Cooking. No one seems to get it right for me.

3. Is there a food or drink you're unwilling to try?

SM: Their... "specialty".

4. How big is your appetite?

SM: One appetite too big.

5. Do you consider eating fun?

SM: These questions make me angry.

6. Would you consider eating something you didn't like just to appease someone?

SM: No.

7. Is there food that has made you sick?

SM: Not anymore.

8. What is your favorite food group?

SM: Food has groups?

SM: ...Why?

9. Do you like to try new foods?

SM: I sure hope I did.

10. What is a childhood meal you cherish?

SM: ...Burger.

11. Are you food-motivated?

SM: ...

SM: Really?

12. Which meal time is your favorite?

SM: The final kind.

13. How much do you care about wasting food?

SM: Very. My mother raised me well.

14. Do you prefer restaurant or home-cooked food?

SM: Restaurant. For the time being.

15. What food or drink do you consider a treat?

SM: Burger...

16. Is there a food texture you don't like?

SM: Liquid, viscous and slightly oily.

17. What kind of drinks do you prefer?

SM: Water.

Weather and Nature

1. What would you do if you were suddenly caught in the rain?

SM: Find a place with a roof.

2. Have you ever had a meaningful encounter with an animal?

SM: If I have, I can't recall.

3. What season would you say you're most similar to?

SM: ...What?

4. Is there a natural phenomenon that scares you?

SM: I don't feel fear. But for sake of the question, I'd rather not be involved with any right now.

5. Have you ever had an animal phase?

SM: Don't think so.

6. Do you enjoy sky-gazing?

SM: I don't mind it when Johnny asks me to join him. That's about it.

7. Do you have a good sense of direction?

SM: Yeah. Par for the course.

8. What type of environment do you like best?

SM: Not too hot, not too cold.

9. Are you good with animals?

SM: Animals tend to run away from me. Don't blame 'em.

10. How would you react to snow?

SM: Just 'cuz Vegas is in a desert doesn't mean it doesn't snow. The place is literally called Nevada, por dios.

11. What part of nature do you most resonate with?

SM: The supernatural has no place within the natural world.

12. Could you survive on your own in the wilderness for a week or more?

SM: Depends on the place. Probably.

13. What element best represents you?

SM: Darkness.

14. Do you prefer hot or cold weather?

SM: Cold. Reasonably cold.

15. Is there a creature that scares you?

SM: No.

16. What celestial body interests you the most?

SM: The sun.

17. Are you good with plants?

SM: About as good as anyone.

18. How willing would you be to nap outside?

SM: Unwilling.

19. What animal would you say best represents you?

SM: A mosquito.

Community and Relationships

1. Do you prefer company or solitude when sick?

SM: I don't get sick.

SM: ...

SM: But Silver being a pest during... that, wasn't so bad.

2. What is your favorite kind of social event?

SM: None.

3. How comfortable would you be with singing and dancing in front of everyone?

SM: I would not care. Though it would be better if I got something out of it.

4. Are you upfront about your feelings?

SM: If I had any.

5. Who would you seek first if you needed medical help?

SM: Nobody. For their sake.

6. How willing would you be to go to a party with people you don't know?

SM: If it leads to something useful, willing. Otherwise, rather not.

7. Who are you most honest with?

SM: Silver.

8. How likely is it for you to initiate a friendship?

SM: Unlikely.

9. Where is your comfort place?

SM: ...Home.

10. Is there a habit you've learned from someone else?

SM: Less learned and more forcefully conditioned into me.

11. Do you think you have people who would worry about you if you got injured?

SM: Yeah. Somehow.

12. How would you react to being put in a position of leadership?

SM: I don't like it.

13. Would you be good at providing medical assistance?

SM: Would a starving bear be good at it? Carajo.

14. Who would you say knows you best?

SM: Silver. Maybe a little too much.

15. Is there a person you would turn to for backup in a fight?

SM: The boys. Either of them, for different reasons.

16. Who would you most like to sign your cast if you got one?

SM: If I were able to get a cast? Everyone, probably.

17. How well do you work with others?

SM: Well enough.

18. What is your favorite form of affection?

SM: Minding your business.

19. Do you enjoy celebrating holidays?

SM: I really don't care.

20. What would it take for you to get into a fight?

SM: Not much.

Mind, Body and Soul

1. What is a habit you have that others might find cute?

SM: I don't think anyone would ever find me cute.

2. Are there any particular sounds you're fond of?

SM: Heartbeats.

3. Are you more prone to fight or flight?

SM: Fight.

4. Do you believe in myths and fairytales?

SM: Do you?

5. What words could tear you down?

SM: None.

6. How well do you act under pressure?

SM: Pressure isn't something I'm familiar with.

7. Are you good at practicing self-care?

SM: That's not a luxury I can afford.

8. What do you find most comforting?

SM: Not comforting, but I'd rather be left alone.

9. Do you have any allergies?

SM: No.

10. Are you a light, medium or heavy sleeper?

SM: I don't need sleep.

11. Do you have a strong willpower?

SM: Given how everyone around me remains safe and ignorant, I'd say yes.

12. Are you more likely to give advice or take it?

SM: Johnny seems to ask me for advice often, and I can't understand why.

13. How do you relax?

SM: I don't.

14. Is there a secret you long to hear?

SM: The method to end this madness.

15. Do you have a sleep routine?

SM: I used to.

16. Would you feel confident in a fight?

SM: Why would you be in a fight otherwise?

17. Are you more energized in the morning, afternoon or at night?

SM: Night. Self explanatory.

18. How often do you have nightmares?

SM: ...Often.

19. Are there scents you dislike?

SM: Blood.

20. Is there a fear you'd like to learn to overcome?

SM: I fear nothing.

21. If you had to act in a play, what role do you think you'd perform best?

SM: Background character. A tree or something.

22. Do you have a high pain tolerance?

SM: Pain is a quality of the living.

Hobbies and Activities

1. What kind of games do you most enjoy playing?

SM: Silver introduced me to Castlevania. Good game.

2. Do you have a secret hobby?

SM: Its a secret.

3. What talent do you wish you had?

SM: The talent to end this quickly.

4. Is there an activity you used to enjoy that you now dislike?

SM: ...Hard to decide.

5. Which do you prioritize more, work or hobbies?

SM: Work.

6. Do you work better with creative or technical endeavors?

SM: Direct endeavors.

7. What is a talent you're proud of?

SM: The talent to brutalize all these parasites.

8. Are you more outdoorsy or indoorsy?

SM: ...

SM: "Indoorsy".

9. What is a topic you'd be exited to talk about?

SM: Again. Can't feel excitement.

10. Is there a skill that you don't know you're bad at?

SM: I-- What?

11. Do you have any injury story?

SM: Fine. Since you're so insistent. Let's see, I've been stabbed and maimed multiple times. I've had my limbs torn one by one. I've been cut in half. Decapitated. Had my bones broken. One time I had to gouge my own eyes out. Had my tongue pulled off. My neck broken. I've been ripped apart, and one other time I was eviscerated. Then I got flayed. Had my skull caved in, my mandible displaced. And lately I had my brains blown out with my own friend's gun.

SM: Oh, and this one time a creep bit me and drank my blood. But really, it didn't hurt. Happy now?

12. What kind of music do you enjoy?

SM: I used to like pop. But lately, I've been subjected to hours of rock music by Silver.

SM: It's not so bad. The guttural screams keep my... mind off things.

13. Have you ever made something for yourself or someone else?

SM: I used to cook often.

14. What is your opinion on cheating in games?

SM: A necessary evil sometimes.

15. How good are you at following through on projects?

SM: VERY good.

16. What's an activity that reminds you of someone else?

SM: That's... I don't wanna answer that.

17. Do you prefer music or silence?

SM: Its complicated.

18. What is something you wouldn't wanna talk about?

SM: I don't want to talk about it.

🌸My Super Long Hopefully Fun Character Ask Game:

👕Appearance

What is your character's favorite physical trait they possess?

What would your character wear if they were told they had to gussy up?

Is there something about your character's appearance that they would change if possible?

Does your character have a favorite material they like to wear?

What are your character's opinion on scars?

How much interest does your character take in trends?

Is there someone your character tries to look similar to?

Does your character have a physical trait that they're known for?

What does your character smell like?

If your character could splurge on a particular garment, what would it be?

Is your character's favorite color a color they wear often?

Has your character gone through major stylistic or physical changes?

What is something your character would refuse to wear?

Is there a style your character is afraid they can’t pull off?

Would your character wear something someone else picked out for them?

Is your character's appearance more telling or deceiving?

What are your character's thoughts on wearing costumes?

Does your character have a favorite outfit?

If your character had to get a tattoo what would it be?

📦Objects

Is there an item your character doesn't like to leave without?

What gift would your character give to someone they didn't like but felt obligated to?

What type of object is likely to catch your character's attention?

Is there an item your character liked that they can’t get back? 

Would your character ever try to haggle?

What is something your character is proud to own?

Does your character ever spend more than they have?

What would it take for your character to give up an item they really like?

Does your character prefer to give or receive gifts?

Is there a type of object your character doesn’t like?

What might an acquaintance think is a good gift for your character?

Does your character personify objects?

What does your character most enjoy shopping for?

Is there an item your character is embarrassed they own or want?

Would your character prefer something bought or made personally?

Is your character willing to ask for things?

What is most important to your character when shopping?

🍽️Food and Drink

What flavor would your character say their personality is?

Would your character prefer baking, cooking or mixing drinks?

Is there a food or drink your character is unwilling to try?

How big is your character's appetite?

Does your character consider eating fun?

Would your character eat or drink something they didn't like to appease someone?

Is there food that has made your character sick?

What is your character's favorite food group?

Does your character like to try new foods?

What is a childhood meal your character cherishes?

Is your character food motivated?

Which mealtime is your character's favorite?

How much does your character care about wasting food?

Does your character prefer restaurant food or home cooked food?

What food or drink does your character consider a treat?

Is there a food texture your character doesn't like?

What kind of drinks does your character prefer?

🌤️Weather and Nature

What would your character do if they were suddenly caught in the rain?

Has your character had a meaningful encounter with an animal?

What season would your character say they're most similar to?

Is there a natural phenomenon that scares your character?

Has your character ever had an animal phase?

Would your character enjoy sky gazing?

Does your character have a good sense of direction?

What type of environment does your character like best?

Is your character good with animals?

How would your character react to snow?

What part of nature would your character most resonate with?

Could your character survive in the wilderness on their own for a week or more?

What element best represents your character?

Does your character prefer hot or cold weather?

Is there a creature that scares your character?

What celestial body would interest your character the most?

Is your character good with plants?

How willing would your character be to nap outside?

What animal would your character say best represents them?

🤝Community and Relationships

Does your character prefer company or solitude when sick?

What is your character's favorite kind of social event?

How comfortable would your character be singing and dancing in front of others?

Is your character upfront about their feelings?

Who would your character first seek if they needed medical help?

How willing would your character be to go to a party with people they don't know?

Who is your character most honest with?

How likely is it for your character to initiate a friendship?

Where is your character's comfort place?

Is there a habit your character has that they learned from someone else?

Does your character have people they think would worry about them if they got injured?

How would your character react to being put in a position of leadership?

Would your character be good at providing medical assistance?

Who would your character say knows them best?

Is there a person your character would turn to for backup in a fight?

Who would your character most want to sign their cast if they got one?

How well does your character work with others?

What is your character's favorite form of affection?

Does your character enjoy celebrating holidays?

What would it take for your character to get into a fight?

💓Mind, Body and Soul

What is a habit your character has that others might find cute?

Are there particular sounds your character is fond of?

Is your character more prone to fight or flight?

Does your character believe in myths and fairy tales?

What words could tear your character down?

How well does your character act under pressure?

Is your character good at practicing self-care?

What scents does your character find comforting?

Does your character have any allergies?

Is your character a light, medium or heavy sleeper?

Does your character have strong willpower?

Is your character more likely to give advice or seek it?

How does your character relax?

Is there a secret thing your character longs to hear?

Does your character have a sleep routine?

Would your character feel confident in a fight?

Is your character more energized in the morning, afternoon or at night?

How often does your character have nightmares?

Are there scents your character dislikes?

Is there a fear your character wants to learn to overcome?

If your character had to act in a play what role would they think they’d best perform?

Does your character have a high pain tolerance?

🎲 Hobbies and Activities

What kind of games does your character most enjoy playing?

Does your character have a secret hobby?

What is a talent your character wishes they had?

Is there an activity your character used to enjoy that they now dislike?

Which does your character try to prioritize more, work or hobbies?

Does your character work better with creative or technical endeavors?

What is a talent that your character is proud of?

Is your character more outdoorsy or indoorsy?

What is a topic your character would be excited to talk about? 

Is there a skill your character doesn’t know they’re bad at?

Does your character have any injury stories?

What kind of music does your character enjoy?

Has your character ever made something for themselves or someone else?

What is your character’s opinion on cheating in games?

How good is your character at following through on projects?

What’s an activity that reminds your character of someone else?

Does your character prefer music or silence?

What is a topic your character wouldn't want to talk about?

[cressidagrey]

It's a Love Story - Chapter 6

Summary:

Azriel's shadows find their master a wife.

Azriel would just really like his heart not to get broken again.

And Sky...well, she's just really surprised that that far too handsome male is interested in her at all.

Warning:

DEFINETLY NSFW! Rhys Bashing (as usual), I classified this as Azriel x OC, even when it't technically Azriel x Sellyn Drake (but we kinda know nothing about Sellyn Drake other than that she writes books so Sky is kinda an OC), Cassian is kinda a good guy for once, Azriel has a horrible time, as usual... Stuttering, toxic families (For once I do not mean the IC), Self-Esteem Issues, Secret Identity, Body Image Issues, Fat Shaming, People being utterly horrible.

If any of this triggers you or makes you uncomfortable, please take care of your own mental health and don't read it.

For somebody that filled her romance novels with plenty of smut… Sky wasn’t exactly as experienced as one may expected. 

Actually…she was woefully inexperienced.

There had been Admon…and Admon it had been.

The rest of the stuff in her books…well, that was just her fantasy wildly spinning stories about how sex should feel. Informed by plenty of books she had read, other authors, and of course…there were the two people that got to read every book she wrote before it was published: Orla, her publisher, and her friend Ressina, who was nice enough to take the pen to every thing she wrote that was woefully inaccurate. 

Because nothing ever felt to her like she portrayed it in the books.

Maybe that was normal. Maybe it was because of course her books portrayed something…better than reality, an escape from it. But still…sometimes Sky had just wondered…

As Azriel carried her towards the bedroom, Sky couldn’t help but feel a flutter of nervousness in her stomach. It wasn’t that she didn’t want this, she did, more than anything. But the truth was, she was…nervous.

She had written about this moment countless times, had described it in vivid detail in her novels. But now that it was actually happening, she felt…insecure. What if it wasn’t as good in real life as she made it out to be on paper? What if she did disappoint him?

(Sky knew that she had disappointed Admon numerous times…that she seemingly had never been enough for him…had been so bad at it in fact that he had instead slept with her sister…which was a whole other kettle of fish that she really didn’t want ot think to close about right now.)

Sky tried to push those thoughts aside, to focus on the here and now. 

Azriel was here with her, he wanted her just as much as she wanted him. She could feel it in the way he held her, the way he looked at her. And yet, that nagging feeling of doubt still lingered.

And then there was the fact while he had admitted to sending his shadows to search for her… Sky was still keeping a rather big secret.

“Az…Azriel…” she said hesitantly.  “There…there is one thing you should know about me.”

Azriel paused, setting Sky down on the bed gently before turning to look at her. 

"Go on," he prompted her gently, taking her hand in his as he sat down next to her and giving it a reassuring squeeze. "You can tell me anything, Sky." She believed him. he wouldn’t judge her. She was sure of that as well. 

“You…You k…know how…how I…I write… ro…romance no..novels?” Sky asked him, biting her lip.

Azriel nodded, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. "Yes, I do," he said, leaning in closer to her. "You told me.”

“I…I am Sellyn Drake,” she blurted out.

She had never outright admitted it to another person. 

Ressina had been the one who had send off her first manuscript to be published…and Orla had met with her…these were the two people in existence that knew that Skylar Alden was also Sellyn Drake. And Skylar had always been comfortable with keeping it that way. 

There was no need to tell anybody else. 

Which was why it worked so well, that Ressina was an artist and could paint the bookcovers for her. No need whatsoever to let anybody else see the hesitant first drafts until she was sure this was where she wanted to go. Just Ressina. Just one of her very few friends. If not her only. 

Azriel stared at her, his eyes widening in surprise. "What?" he asked, completely taken aback. "You're...Sellyn Drake?" There was no…outright disbelief in his voice, just shock. 

*We know! We made Master read your books!* the shadows cooed. *Lady Death, The Priestess and The Shopkeeper love them too!*

She had no idea who any of these people were but…

Azriel's eyes widened even further as the shadows spoke up. "You...you knew about this?" he asked them, turning towards the shadows in disbelief. "You knew. That’s why you gave me her books to read!”

This was just getting better and better.

Sky, who had been watching Azriel and the shadows’ exchange with a mixture of nervousness and embarrassment, couldn't help but laugh at the absurdity of the situation. 

“Do…Do they always…” she couldn’t even put it into words. 

Azriel sighed. “They like to meddle,” he said darkly. “And this time they were particularly persistent.” He shot a reproachful look at the shadows, who cowered a little under his gaze. "I won't lie, they did manipulate me into reading your books. And when my shadows do something they are rather...convincing."

She swallowed. 

“Did…did you…li…like them at…at least?” Sky asked hesitantly. 

Azriel hesitated for a moment before answering. 

"I...I did," he admitted earnestly. "Your writing...it's brilliant, Sky.” Her heart soared at his words. She treasured them, hoarding them away like a dragon. But he wasn’t done. “The characters, the emotions, the way you make the reader feel everything...it's incredible. I couldn't put them down."

Sky grinned at his words, feeling a swell of pride in her chest. "I…I'm glad you..you li…liked them," she said softly.

*Master especially liked the…*

“Shut. Up.” Azriel snapped, his ears reddening and Sky started laughing. She could just about imagine what the shadows wanted to tell her at that moment. 

Azriel groaned, burying his face in his hands. "I'm going to kill them," he muttered under his breath.

"They…they are ju…just try…trying to help you, aren't they?" she asked softly, squeezing his hand in hers. Only now she noticed the violent scars that marred them, the texture of raised and bumpy skin…but she didn’t care. Not one bit.  

*Of course, we are,* the shadows said, like any other idea was simply blasphemous. *We gave Master the best information we could. So that Master would know what you like.*

Sky probably shouldn't find it as adorable as she did. But the lengths they had gone to...the way they had made Azriel read her books so that he would know what she liked...nobody in her life had ever gone to these lengths just to find out what she liked.

"I swear I am not a total creep," Azriel told her with a grimace.

Sky laughed, shaking her head in disbelief. "No…no, no, you're not," she assured him, squeezing his, hands gently. "I…I ac…actually think it's… quite… sweet. In a weird, sli…slightly invasive kind of way. But sweet nonetheless."

"I think you are the only female that could possible think that," Azriel muttered, glaring at the shadows that didn't seem apologetic in the slightest.

Sky grinned, leaning in closer to him. "It’s… endearing,” she finally settled on. “Maybe even a lit…little bit charming," she promised him earnestly.

Azriel looked at her incredulously, his expression softening a little. "You're not just saying that to make me feel better, are you?" he asked her.

Sky shook her head. "No. No, I'm not," she said, her voice unwavering. "I…I mean it, Azriel. It iss actually really sweet that you would go to… such lengths just to try to un…understand me better. And you ad…admitted to it. And not just after the mating bond was accepted but within hours of meeting me." 

Azriel didn't keep it a secret, even when he could have, and she would have been none the wiser. 

"I don't know what I ever did to deserve you. But I'm not going to question it," he whispered. 

She swallowed. That's what she was thinking. The exact same words. 

Sky pulled him down, letting his forehead rest against hers.

"I know that...that I am supposed to cook you something...but how disappointed would you be if I gave you one of those caramel bonbons in my purse to accept the bond instead?" she asked him softly, meeting his gaze. 

His eyes widened and he stared at her in pure, undiluted wonder. 

"I could not possible be dissappointed by whatever you offered me," Azriel whispered. "But...are you...are you sure?"

"I am being utterly selfish," she whispered. "Yes. I want you." She didn't care that people would have thoughts about it...that she was rushing into this. 

They were probably right. 

But Sky really didn't care. Sky only wanted him. Sky was ready to throw caution overboard and rush into this headfirst without a thought about the consequences, if that meant that she would get her mate.

"Then let's be selfish together," Azriel whispered.

With shaky hands she reached into her purse, finding one of the caramel bonbon she kept in there...unwrapped it out of the paper and then...then she offered it to him, lifting it to his lips.

Azriel looked at the bonbon, then at her, and for a moment she thought he would say something. But then his mouth opened and he took it from her hand... He chewed it, swallowing carefully, his gaze never wavering from hers. For a moment, they stayed suspended in that moment of tension, the only sound their breathing. And then, he leaned in, closing the distance between them, and kissed her as if she was the most precious thing in his entire world.

A Mating Frenzy had always been protrayed as animalistic in every book she read. So of course, Sky had written the exact same thing.

But it wasn't...not really.

Not for them. 

And being with Azriel was also a far cry from being with Admon...mostly because then it had often been...embarrassing and painful. 

Admon had always found something to criticise on her body...foreplay had been nonexistent, even when she had tried...and while he had been more than willing to use her mouth to find his own pleasure he had never returned that favour.

With Azriel it was different. Every touch, every caress, every kiss made her feel things she had never felt before. It was like her body was coming alive for the first time.

All her senses were heightened, every nerve in her body singing with pleasure, and Sky couldn't get enough of him. She wanted more. No, she needed more. As Azriel trailed kisses down her throat, she arched her back, pressing herself against him, her hands roaming over his body, exploring every inch of him that she could reach.

"Can I...Can I touch your wings?" she asked breathlessly, not wanting to...cross some unsaid line.

"Please," Azriel breathed out. "Yes, Sky, please." He lifted his wings, extending them out behind him, giving her free rein to touch and explore to her heart's content. As Sky's fingers brushed against the contours of his wings, Azriel let out a low, guttural moan, his wings twitching and shuddering at the sensation. They were massive and pitch black.

"They are beautiful," she whispered, running her hands over the silky black skin, feeling the warmth radiating from them.

He shuddered at her touch, his wings arching and trembling beneath her gentle caress. he leaned his forehead against hers as he gently tipped her back against the bed and she went willingly, wrapping her hands over the gleaming talons at the tip of his wings as she kissed him.

Azriel growled softly in response, his hands sliding up beneath her dress, opening the lacing in one fluid motion. As the dress fell open, revealing her body beneath, Azriel pulled back for a moment, looking down at her with dark, hungry eyes. "You are so beautiful," he breathed, his gaze roaming over her body.

She didn't even have the time to feel self-conscious, not when she was drowning in the waves of desire that shot across their bond from him. Not when her whole body seemingly trembled against his and she kissed him again, opening her mouth to his tongue.

He slipped open the dress and she opened her mouth, halfway ready to tell him how he could get the corset she wore off, but he already opened the lacing. "Why?" he asked her softly, as he saw the red indents left on her body, and she grimaced.

"Claire," she whispered.

She wore corsets usually for support, because her breast could get heavy and painful without the proper support...but she never laced them as tightly as she did when she saw her family. Or her sister. Then she pulled them tight, trying to squash her body to be something…something her family could stomach, something they maybe wouldn't comment on...she always failed.

Azriel hissed softly, his fingers lightly tracing the red marks on her skin. She knew that they looked horrible, and yet he looked...angered? Almost furious. His expression softened as he looked back into her eyes, his fingers gently tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. "Why would you do something like that to yourself, Sky?" he murmured, his eyes searching hers. "You are beautiful. You don't need to change anything about your body." He leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to a particularly hard imprint the corset had left.

Sky swallowed hard, feeling a lump form in her throat as emotion welled up in her chest. No one had ever said something like that to her, had ever made her feel like she was good enough just the way she was. She opened her mouth, trying to speak, but no words came out. Instead, she just nodded, feeling a single tear slip down her cheek. Azriel wiped it away with his thumb, his other hand coming up to cup her face tenderly.

"You are perfect," he whispered, pressing his lips to her forehead. "Just the way you are. Don't ever let anyone make you feel otherwise. Not even your family." Sky leaned into his touch, closing her eyes and just focusing on the closeness, the warmth, the feeling of being cherished and protected.

With every word he spoke, she felt a weight lifting off her shoulders, her fears and insecurities melting away. She realized that maybe, just maybe, she had found someone who truly saw her, the real her. Who accepted her exactly as she was, flaws and all.

It was so easy to sink into that. So easy to trust him. So easy to just kiss him, as she pushed the shirt he wore over his shoulders...to feel acres of gold skin, dotted with scars and dark markings...to bare him for her view and see how utterly gorgeous her mate was.

He growled softy as she ran her hand down his chest, tracing the scars that marked his skin. His body was a tapestry of pain and survival, yet she wasn't deterred. She only found him more beautiful for it.

"Mine," she whispered, pressing her lips to his chest, to one particularly nasty scar. "All mine." She could feel his heart pounding beneath her lips, the steady beat matching the rhythm of her own heartbeat. Her hands trailed down his chest, his stomach, until she reached the waistband of his trousers.

It was so easy.

So easy, to shed clothing until they were bare...so easy to press against him and feel warm, perfect skin...so easy to relax underneath him as he stretched over her...so easy to simply cup his face as she kissed him...as her legs wrapped around his hips and he groaned and she whimpered as she felt him...hot and hard and huge, pressing against her...She was dripping wet without him even laying as single finger on her beneath the waist.

Azriel didn't look unaffected, his breath coming in ragged pants, his eyes fixed on hers as they were blown wide and dark with want. He didn't move, didn't kiss her, didn't pull her closer. He only waited. Waited for her. 

"I need you," she whimpered. "Please. Please, Az." He let out a sound somewhere between a groan and a growl, his hips rocking gently against her, teasing them both with the heat and friction between them.

Nothing hurt. Nothing ever even threatened to hurt...Even as she could feel him notch against her there...even when she could feel herself lewdly stretched open on his cock...

It was so soft and gentle and sweet and…

It was everything Sky had ever wanted. 

Not the rough kind of fucking...not the animalistic coupling she wrote half the time...but she had wanted this. She had wanted sweetness and adoration and...love...and to be wrapped up in her mate's arms like she was a precious, precious thing. She had wanted whispered praised against her skin and to be touched like she mattered...

"Sky," he whispered, his hands running up her side, his touch was soft and soothing, worshipping her body. He kissed her, slowly, deeply, and there was something...almost overwhelming about it.

About the way he made her feel. The way he made her feel loved and adored. The way he made her feel cherished. Her hands wandered up to his back, tracing the muscles shifting beneath scarred, scarred skin.

She could feel him trembling, feel the tension in his body as he held himself back, but still, he moved in slow and gentle thrusts, taking his time. He worshipped her - every little gasp and moan, every curve of her body. He traced her shape with his fingertips and lips, exploring her as though he was trying to memorize every inch of her body.

She didn't know how long they stayed that way, their bodies as one, but Sky didn't care. She was surrounded by him - the heat of his skin, the sound of his breath, the way he whispered her name like a prayer. Sky could feel the love and devotion pouring through the bond, washing over her in waves, and she knew that this was exactly where she was meant to be. With him, in his arms, completely and utterly whole.

It nearly came as a shock as she came.

A breathless moan fell from her lips as her orgasm rushed over her, her body arching as she called out his name. He kissed her through it, murmuring praise against her lips as he held her close, his own release following soon after.

They stayed there for a moment, tangled together, both of them breathless and sated. Azriel's wings slowly wrapped around them, cocooning them in a warm, protective embrace that made Sky feel safe and cherished in a way she had never experienced before.

***

There was not one inch of his mate's body that wasn't utterly beautiful. From the tips of her arched ears, to her beautiful eyes...to the swell of her breasts and the dip of her waist and the soft flesh of her belly and the flare of her hips...she smelled so good too...especially now that their scents had started to mix, and he could breath in caramel and hazelnuts and cedars and the sweet, beautiful scent of happiness as she laid underneath him. His head was bedded on her stomach, as she drew short fingernails through his messy dark hair. He nearly wanted to start to purr as she scratched at his scalp.

Azriel felt...content.

More content than he ever remembered feeling. He was wrapped up in her, his mate, with her gentle hands in his hair, and he felt utterly and completely at peace. He didn't care if they never moved from that bed again. He didn't care if the world outside their little cocoon burned. So long as she was by his side, he was content. He had never felt like this before. He had never felt this...happy. This...whole.

"I need to go feed Hector," Sky told him softly, trailing her fingers through his hair.

"Can I just have the shadows kidnap him and bring him here?" he asked, not wanting to move.

"You can't go kidnapping my cat, Az," she chided him gently, but even as she said the words, she didn't stop drawing her fingers through his hair, and Azriel didn't move. He was far too comfortable.

"Why not?" he complained.

"You'll terrify him," she said with a laugh. "Besides, do you have cat food here?"

"I'll have the shadows find some Tuna," he mumbled.

"Do…Do they just ac…acquire whatever you tell them to?" she asked him with some amusement. 

And lots of things he didn't tell them to, as well. They thought he didn’t know. 

Azriel raised himself on his forearms, looking down at Sky with a glint in his eye. "You have no idea how many things I've acquired that way," he told her with a grin.

She lifted her hands, cupping his cheeks and pulling him down towards her, resting her forehead against his. "You're a menace," she murmured against his lips.

"Your menace," he replied, kissing her softly.

Sky smiled, a warm, slow curve of her lips that made his chest feel tight. "Mine," she agreed, her voice soft. "But no kidnap…kidnapping my cat. He's at home."

"We could make this our home," he protested softly. "Move in with me."

Azriel had no fucking clue what was even coming over him. They should have slowed down, stopped to think...but neither of them seemed to want to.

They just…they seemed utterly content to crash through what other people considered a normal timeline and just be together right now. 

He just wanted to be near her. He wanted to share a life with her, a home. He wanted to curl up with her in front of the fire on a cold winter's night, and spend lazy Sunday mornings in bed with her. He wanted to take her flying, and watch as she wrote and listened to her read the words she wrote. 

And he wanted - Gods, he wanted her to want that too. He held his breath as he waited for her response.

For a moment, she was silent, and Azriel wondered if he had stepped too far, asked too much too soon. 

But then, Sky smiled again, her eyes sparkling with emotions. 

"...Al…Alright," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I'll…I’ll move in with you." 

Azriel couldn't help but grin as he pressed his forehead to hers. "Really? You mean it?" he asked, still unable to believe his ears.

"Really," she echoed with a laugh, before her expression turned serious. "But I…I have one co…condition." 

Azriel raised an eyebrow, waiting for her to continue. "What is it?"

"If I move in with you..." she began, wrapping her arms around his neck. "All my books need to come to," she told him seriously.

Azriel laughed, leaning back in to kiss her softly. "All your books can come, if that's what you want," he said. "As long as you're here, I don't care what else you bring."

And then the shadows unceremoniously dumped a screeching demon on the bed with them.

Sky let out a surprised yelp as Hector landed next to them with a thud, quickly scrambling away from the cat - and from under Azriel's weight. Azriel, for his part, sprang up, his wings flaring out in alarm. For several long moments, the three of them just stared at each other. Hector, his mismatched eyes glowing, his fur puffed up to twice it’s normal size, and Sky, her expression a mixture of surprise and affection as she looked at her pet. Finally, she cleared her throat. "Well, that's one way to introduce the two of you. Az, meet Hector."

...Gods, the shadows had really not been lying when they said that the cat was the ugliest thing they had ever seen.

Azriel slowly lowered his wings, eyeing the creature that was half-cat and half-demon. "He...looks like he wants to kill me," he said slowly.

Sky laughed, reaching out to scratch Hector's head. "He's just grumpy because he got teleported here so suddenly," she told him. "And he's not used to strangers." Hector's fur slowly flattened, and he began to purr, rubbing his head against Sky's hand. "Besides, he'd never hurt anyone," she added, looking up at Azriel with a smile.

Somehow Azriel highly doubted that.

Sky picked Hector up, cradling the cat in her arms as his purring grew louder. "See? He's not so bad," she told Azriel, moving towards him, and Azriel had to resist the urge to back away. "Hold out your hand, let him sniff you. He just needs to get used to you."

Azriel hesitantly held out his hand, trying his best to ignore the way Hector's eyes seemed to glow with an eerie light. After a moment, Hector moved forward, sniffing at Azriel's hand. Azriel felt the soft brush of whiskers against the palm of his hand, and Hector nudged his head against him, purring louder.

"See, he loves you!" Sky said enthusiastically

Azriel let out a laugh, slowly scratching the top of Hector's head. "I think he's just trying to lull me into a false sense of security before he scratches my eyes out, you know."

She rolled her eyes, "You are the most handsome cat I know," she cooed at him. "And you won't ever scratch out Azriel's eyes. No, you won't.”

Azriel would not quite go as far as describe the cat as handsome...but then...his own scarred hands weren't particularly beautiful either.

So Hector and him had that in common.

And the fact that they both wanted to cuddle with Sky. Actually, he was pretty sure that the cat hated him just for taking away his monopoly on that.

But Azriel would have shared a house with the King of Hybern if that meant that he got to have Sky in his bed.

She smiled at him, her eyes warm and adoring. "I knew you two would hit it off," she said, holding Hector in the crook of her arm. The cat stared at Azriel for a moment, as if sizing him up, before leaping off Sky's lap and disappearing under the bed with a soft patter of paws. "He'll warm up to you eventually," Sky assured him, but Azriel wasn't so sure about that.

He pulled Sky in closer to him, slipping back underneath the sheets with her, kissing her forehead. "I'll win him over, eventually," he promised her. At least, he hoped he would - he didn't particularly enjoy the idea of having to wake up with his throat being sliced open by an angry cat.

He would buy that damn cat all the Tuna in the world if that made Sky happy.

[gothcsz]

part six of the neighbors series. thank you to the anon who sent this angsty prompt for getting the gears turning in my head, hehe. these two are something else, i tell ya. the miscommunication is just so... i am pushing them together forcing them to kiss at this point lol hope you guys like it 🖤 and feel free to send me more things for this little au!

javier peña x f!reader. ~2k word count. nothing too extreme to tag, it's straight up just angst and yearning.

Being with Mateo is nice, sweet even. He calls when he says he will, makes you laugh, and remembers how you take your coffee. And you really do try with him. You take interest in his hobbies, hold his hand when you’re walking down the street, and even let him take you to bed.

The sex is fine, nothing spectacular and just barely above average. Being with him is normal and safe.

But every now and then, your mind drifts to what it would be like if it was Javier in his place. You shake those thoughts off as fast as they come. If you’re going to move on, it has to be for real, not half-heartedly.

It’s a little easier to bury those feelings now that Javier is caught up in something—or someone—of his own. 

She’s over at his place constantly, her laugh sometimes drifting through the walls late at night. It feels like they’re always whispering to each other, talking until all hours, and you hate how that little spark of jealousy sits in your chest.

You catch yourself wondering what her name is, how they met, if she gets that look from him—the one that he used to give you when he’d make you laugh. 

You pass Javier in the hallway sometimes, and when he offers a half-smile and rushed, “Hey,” you return it with something tight and brief, barely meeting his gaze.

But he’s always in his own world these days, buried in work, and if he notices you distancing yourself, he doesn’t show it. Or maybe he’s too distracted to care. Either way, it reinforces the choice you’ve made to keep things this way. 

Every time you pass his closed door, you tell yourself you’re doing the right thing. Him being absent is the push you need to keep stepping back, to keep looking at apartments a few neighborhoods over, just in case.

One day, Mateo notices you’re distracted during dinner, poking at your food more than eating it. 

“Querida,” he says, nudging your hand, “you alright?”

“Yeah.” You force a smile. “Just thinking about work.” You try to shake off the odd feelings you can’t seem to put to rest—the unease of Javier wrapped up in someone else and it working for him but not for you, leaving you more restless than before.

He’s become a background hum of missed chances and bad timing.

Mateo catches the shift in your expression and rests his hand on yours. “If it’s about your place, I don’t mind helping you look around. Maybe even do a little apartment tour spree together this weekend?”

His warmth stirs something in you, a pang of guilt for not giving him the part of you that’s still tucked away. “Yeah, that sounds nice. I’d like that.” 

Javier’s schedule continues to keep him out of the complex and you can’t remember the last time you saw him at the embassy.

Granted, you work in different departments but still, there was enough overlap for you to at least catch glimpses of him throughout the day. 

There’s a wall between you two—one he doesn’t even realize is there.

One evening, as you’re walking up to your door, you hear his low voice in the hallway, murmuring something to that beautiful brunette that you feel so strongly against because of your own insecurities. 

It strikes a nerve, seeing her leaned up against his door like that with Javier crowding her, his fingers tucking a strand of her curly hair behind her ear.

They don’t even notice you and that fucking stings, then you remind yourself that you’re being ridiculous and unlock your door quickly, barely giving him a second glance when he finally turns his head to acknowledge you. You just shut your door.

Later, as you sit by your window with a glass of wine, a part of you wishes you could confront him about it—how you miss having a friend even if these feelings you’ve grown for him have tainted your friendship.

But instead, you brush it off. It’s better this way, the distance and silence. Cutting him off quietly.

You have Mateo now, and maybe in time, those feelings you’re trying to force yourself to feel for him will start to feel more real.

In the meantime, you keep Mateo close and Javier at arm’s length, praying the ache in your chest will fade into something easier to ignore.

When things with Helena spiral, Javier’s entire world dips into a darkness he struggles to fight off.

He’d been steeling himself for months, pretending that what he felt for her was just a part of the job, just another way to gather intel, to stay sharp. But things had shifted, unraveled into something he wasn’t prepared for.

She had become more than an informant; something tangible and real, someone he genuinely cared about. He should have known better than to let it get personal—mixing affection with the job, letting his heart get tangled up in a life as brutal as theirs.

It’s in the wake of this disaster that you pop into his mind again. The truth is, he’d forced you out of it completely, buried you beneath his work, his duties, his time with her.

After all, what place did someone like him, wound up in the cartel’s mess, have with someone like you? You were safe, building a life with an uppity banker, someone who could give you things Javier’s world would never allow. 

Security, stability, and something close to a normal life—things he could barely imagine anymore.

And he’d see it, too, in the way you were with Mateo. He could hear it sometimes through the walls, that light laugh of yours, the one that’d once been his to hear on a quiet afternoon or over a shared meal. Now it belonged to someone else.

Javier would watch the asshole come by, flowers in hand, gifts in his arms, looking like the kind of guy he could never be, the kind of guy you deserved.

Maybe that’s why he fell for Helena so quickly, so intensely. She was tough, resilient, unafraid of the shadows he’d cast around him. With her, he didn’t have to pretend.

They shared the same night-bound existence and he didn’t care that she was a prostitute. She understood, even when he didn’t, the danger of crossing those lines in his work, the way it weighed on him, without flinching at the blood on his hands.

But now… he’s haunted by what he should have seen coming. She’d been hurt, and every part of him feels complicit.

He couldn’t protect her, couldn’t protect himself from feeling it all in his bones, and the guilt wraps around his heart, squeezing so tight it might burst. 

The weight of it pulls him under, and he finds himself wondering how he’s going to claw his way out. His work is far from over.

He's at the bottom of a bottle of bourbon one night when he realizes just how long it's been since he’s really seen you.

The ache that realization brings feels like another knife twisting in his chest. Your bright eyes, that quirky laugh you give when he actually manages to crack you up, and the way you can turn his chaos to calm without even trying—they’ve been missing from his life for months now, and he’s feeling the loss more deeply than he wants to admit.

With sluggish, heavy steps, he staggers across his apartment until he ends up at your door. He knocks, too loudly, too long, until you swing it open, looking bleary-eyed and definitely frustrated. He’s clearly woken you up.

“Hola, cariño—”

“It’s two in the goddamn morning, Javier. ¿Qué necesitas?” 

You’ve got your arms crossed, and he blinks a few times, almost impressed with the improvement of your accent. He opens his mouth, trying to form the words, but you beat him to it, eyeing him up and down.

“Are you drunk? You reek of liquor, Peña.” Your tone is flat. “You need to go back home.”

“Te extraño,” he slurs, the words slipping out before he can stop them. “I can’t be in there another second without feelin’ like I’m losing my damn mind.”

You’re sizing him up, at a war with yourself, and he lets his gaze wander even in his bleary state. You’re wearing that familiar robe with a slip dress underneath, and he has no idea if it helps or makes things worse. 

“Then you should probably call your girl,” you say, voice cool. “Or go upstairs and bother Murphy. I have to be up early.”

You go to close the door, but his large palm spreads against it, steadying himself. “Javier—”

“Please,” he says, voice softer. “Don’t do this. Not tonight.”

For a moment, you search his eyes, your own gaze conflicted, and then, almost begrudgingly, you sigh. “Fine,” you mutter, “but you’re out by the time I’m up for work in the morning.”

You let him in, and he feels that distance in your voice like a physical wall between you. It’s his own fault—he knows it, hates it, but here you are, standing back to let him in anyway.

He stumbles, almost falling flat on his face, and your smaller hands catch him with a muttered curse. Like he’s a child.

You steer him to the couch with an exasperated huff, and even as you help him settle, he’s not sure if it’s the liquor making his chest tighten or the fact that you’re handling him with more care than he deserves. 

You wrestle him out of his jacket, tugging it from his broad shoulders, then go for his boots.

The grunts you make in effort, the feeling of your hands on him—even if it’s just to deal with his drunk ass—makes him ache in a way that alcohol only magnifies.

His thoughts drift to places they have no business going. He’d tried to move past the want he felt for you, burying it under other bodies, other names, other distractions. But here you are in a thin slip dress under your robe and all he can think about is how it’d feel to have you moving against him, to finally let his hands roam your curves, bring you pleasure and fuck you like he’s sure no man has. Not even your goody-two-shoes of a boyfriend.

Once he’s settled on your couch, you leave, only to return a moment later with a glass of water, setting it on the coffee table with a quiet sigh. “If you need to puke, please use my bathroom,” you say flatly, “not the new couch.”

“New couch?” he mumbles, sitting up on his elbows and frowning at it. “What was wrong with the old one?”

You just shake your head, the patience gone from your expression. “Goodnight, Javi,” you say flatly, but he stops you before you leave.

“Thank you for this and I’m sorry—”

“Just stop,” you cut him off with a deep sigh. “You’re always apologizing and I don’t want to hear it. Get some rest.” And then you’re gone, the door to your room closing softly but definitively behind you.

After that night, he tries to make things go back to normal but the distance that happened during that time seems impossible to close now.

Every attempt he makes to lessen it only meets the cool edge of your guarded smile or your quick, polite excuses to cut conversations short. The silence between you has settled too deeply now, like it’s found a home where friendship used to be.

He doesn’t know what to do and you’re still stuck in your forced delusion that Mateo is what you want.

started a tag list for my works here, so if you're interested— pls check it out 🖤

🏷️: @persephone-girl . @almostempty . @magneticecstasy . @miss-oranje-disco-dancer . @pepperstories . @greenwitchfromthewoods . @maiyart . @pedrohoe04 . @natalieispunk . @thewisesalmon . @bitchesuntitled . @puddles221b . @swankyorange . @bbyanarchist . @thottiewinemom . @heyhihello-4771 . @danaehldy . @sunflowerfive . @libre-sol . @harriedandharassed . @untamedheart81 . @moel-jiller . @honeyedmiller . @alexxavicry . @oldenoughtoknowbettersstuff . @almodovarispunk . @southernbe . @readingiskeepingmegoing . @pedrito-is-punk7 . @mrs-hardy-hunnam-butler . @la-vie-est-une-fleur29 . @lover-of-books-and-tea . @samanthajonees . @dontlookatme121 . @thundermartini . @dinanabuu . @cherrysugarx . @dontlookatme121 . @sunshinefive . @angiewatson .

[ashwhowrites]

Hello, I love your stories and I hope you can make my fun request

Can you do Eddie Munson x Death fem reader

So hear me out let's say there in the upside down (11 and everyone isn't in California there in Hawkins and in the upside down with them and while they where chilling out in the upside down when Steve got hurt all of the sudden they heard whistling and turned and see a badass fem reader and walked up to 11 and starts toying with her (just like the wolf from puss and boots yk Death and when they figured out she's actually death they somehow get her a change of heart (after she tried to kill 11 and showed off her power a bit) and her and Eddie fall in love or Eddie falls first.

Sorry if it’s long

This was actually so fun and I loved writing the Death character. So if anyone else loves it, feel free to request ( once they are open ) for more death reader. I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it! Thank you for requesting 🫶🏻

Death was inspired by Rio from Agatha all along, won't lie. But the Death character is NOT Rio. If that makes sense. Just don't think Aubrey plaza is the reader because she's not, just was an inspiration so I wanted to give the credit to that.

Lady Death

"I FUCKING hate these bats," Steve growled. Nancy sat on her knees as she tried to cover Steve's wounds.

"What the hell is this place?" Eddie asked once he caught his breath. All he knew was that he jumped off a boat and was in a hell pit.

"The upside down," El said. She was looking around, almost like she felt the presence of something no one had seen yet.

"Oh great, so I have to fight to survive in the normal world, and now I have to survive in this sewer-type place? And this girl has powers?" Eddie asked frantically. He knew somewhat of everything that was going on, he just didn't believe it was a real place.

"Dude, I've already told you all of this!" Dustin argued.

"No offense, kid. But I figured you were full of shit!'" Eddie spat.

"Guys! Quiet," El demanded. Everyone went silent as they looked at her. She closed her eyes, trying to feel what was wrong. "There's something here," she whispered.

"Yeah, flesh-eating bats!" Steve hissed.

Before anyone could say anything, El was flung across the ground.

"EL!" Mike shouted, running over to her. But before he could come in contact with her, she was evaluated into the air. The gang watched in horror as she seemed to be held up by her throat, by an invisible force.

"What's going on?" Robin panicked. Nancy worked faster to clean up Steve.

The sound of someone whistling filled their ears. The gang all turned to see a woman walking towards them. She was dressed in a skin-tight green bodysuit, holes on the sides that showed skin, a green crown on her head, and a dangerous smirk playing on her lips.

Everyone stared at her in fear and awe. She was incredibly beautiful, but nothing alive behind her eyes.

"Poor little El, not so strong anymore, huh?" The lady mocked, she flicked her wrist and El fell to the floor. Mike raced over to her, this time able to collect her body in his arms.

"Who are you?" El asked, panting as she took air into her lungs.

"She's Death," Eddie said in awe. Everyone looked at him shocked, how did he know who she was?

Even she was surprised. She was fast, appearing in front of Eddie in seconds as she gripped his neck. Eddie tried to cover up the fact that he was incredibly turned on by her harsh touch.

"Who are you?" she questioned, Eddie blushed under her studying eyes. She took in every inch of his face, something about him was familiar.

"Edward Munson," he choked out. The gang didn't move an inch, staring at the two.

"How do you know who I am?" She released his throat to allow him to speak. She flicked her wrist and everyone in the gang was thrown to the ground. They were stuck, not able to move a muscle.

Eddie was a little scared, looking at his friends and some people he barely knew trapped under her power.

"I've read about you. You collect souls, right? El was supposed to die from Vecna but she escaped. Unfinished business and now you have to finish her," Eddie explained, "am I right, Y/N?"

Y/N stepped away from the boy. She felt uneasy that he seemed to know everything. No one was supposed to know who she was until she took their soul, of course.

With her distracted, the gang ran over to El. El was quick to use her own powers, sending Y/N in the air and harshly crashing into the ground. Her head hit the ground with a thud and her body went still.

"LET'S GO!" Steve yelled, the gang nodded and all ran to make their escape. Eddie went to follow but when he took a look at Y/N's limp body on the floor, he stopped.

"Eddie, come on!" Dustin said, gesturing his hands to show that everyone was leaving.

"We can't just leave her," Eddie argued, against his better judgement he walked towards her.

"You said it yourself, she's Death. I think she's capable of handling a bump on the head," Mike sassed. He was annoyed that Eddie seemed to care about a stranger that was more than willing to kill El.

Eddie ignored Mike's words, kneeling down as he rolled her body over. There was a gash on her head, blood running down the side of her face. Eddie didn't have anything on him to help, but he ripped the end of his shirt and tied it around her head. He watched as his white shirt began to stain with her blood, but he didn't mind.

She couldn't die, he knew that. But he wouldn't feel right leaving her behind with no help at all.

~~~

It's been a few days since the encounter with Death, and she was in everyone's head ( just for different reasons.) El thought of her as a new enemy and most of the gang were terrified to know they were that close to Death.

But she was in Eddie's mind for a different reason. When he was younger he loved reading about death and what happened in the afterlife. He learned what death was, who death was. She's been around for centuries but never aged. Still the beautiful girl, who lost her soul too young.

Eddie often felt a connection to her. She didn't have a family, or any friends. People were scared of her, banished her, leaving her alone for years and years. She was like Eddie and Eddie was just like her. He was alone and banished in his own way, but they had much in common.

He couldn't leave her behind because he understood the pain of being alone. The pain of everyone running away, terrified. He wanted her to feel cared about for once.

Something about Eddie humanized her in a sense. She hadn't felt anything in her body since she died. She didn't feel emotions, her heart, not even her lungs. But when she was near him, touching and seeing him, she felt a beat in her chest. A flutter in her stomach.

Her body felt alive

She was able to trace where he lived from the property of his shirt. She carried the blood stained shirt in her hand as she walked through the woods, looking for his trailer park.

She felt that same beat in her chest as she walked past a small trailer. Random chairs in the front and an ash tray by the door. She walked away, the beat in her chest decreasing. With furrowed eyebrows, she walked backwards, the beat increased.

"Well look at that, having a heart is good for something," she scoffed, turning in the direction of the trailer.

She didn't knock, using her powers to fling the door right off the hinges.

Eddie was brushing his teeth when he heard his front door slam a wall.

"Shit!" He swore through his foamy mouth. He figured a big gust of wind blew through the door but when he came out, he saw Y/N standing in his house. His toothbrush hung from his mouth as he stared at her in shock.

"On-mf-e-sec-mff," he said through the foam. He turned and raced back in his bathroom to spit out the paste and rinse his mouth. He jumped when Y/N appeared behind him.

"Um, hi," Eddie said, staring at her reflection. She stood tall behind him, peaking over his shoulder. Her hair was down, framing her face. She was in her death clothes, the tight bodysuit making him gulp.

"You gave me this," she spoke bluntly. She held his shirt, hanging from her fingertips. He turned around and grabbed the shirt, tossing it to the floor.

"Thanks for bringing it back," he smiled. She flinched as she felt her heart race. But recovered with a smile.

"You're welcome," she said, turning around and walking out. Eddie followed, confusion on his face.

"Wait, where are you going?" He asked, moving to cut her off. Her body slammed against his and she stepped back. Her face stone cold.

"I dropped off the shirt. That's all that needed to be done," she said. Eddie frowned, thinking about how the only time she's in someone's presence is to kill them.

"Hey, you know you can be around people for fun, not just take their souls," the comment sounded like he was a dick but he was genuine about it. He closed the door and moved to his couch, patting the seat next to him.

She eyed him, moving cautiously and sitting next to him. "Well, thank you," she smiled. "And thank you for helping me."

"You don't have to thank me. I promise my friends are kind people, they just had to fight for their lives a few too many times," Eddie sadly laughed.

"You haven't?" She asked, Eddie could feel her eyes. He turned his head to look at her, trying not to get lost in her eyes.

"I have, I just understand how it feels to be the one that's left behind. I've studied you my whole life and you're not as scary as the books made you seem."

Y/N was in awe of the softness he showed and offered her. She couldn't remember when was the last time she got to be in someone's company.

"And by far more beautiful in person," he said, softer and quieter than before. Her heart fluttered and she felt her skin getting warm.

She felt shy, moving her head to hide away but his hand reached out. She jumped slightly at the feeling of his hand on her warm cheek. The eye contact felt intense, like she was in a trance and unable to look away. She didn't want to anyway, she wanted to stare at him all day long.

"You know, since you brought back my shirt. I think I owe you for your kindness," he whispered. Her stomach flipped as a small smile formed on his face. His perfect pink lips stretched as his white teeth were on display. She turned her head to the side, questioning him.

"You hungry?" He asked, "for food not souls." He clarified. She couldn't help but giggle at his words.

"I could eat," she smiled. He smiled back, standing up and grabbing her hand. He was prepared to go right out the door but then he stopped.

"Would you maybe feel more comfortable in..uh-" he stuttered, still feeling the effects of her suit clinging to her body and showing off her figure. "Comfier clothes?"

"What are the options?"

~

"Steve, if I hear you moan and bitch about the bats one more time, I will cut you myself," Robin threatened.

"I'd like a little support here! I could've died!" Steve argued. Nancy laughed to herself as the two began to argue. Jonathan had his arm thrown around her shoulder, looking down at the menu.

Eddie walked in, his hand in hers as he looked around for an open table. He was shocked to see Steve, Robin, Nancy and Jonathan at a table.

Steve looked up and his eyes locked on Eddie, and then the girl next to him. Eddie gave him a small wave but turned the other direction, leading Y/N. They sat at a table, with her back to his friends.

Steve raced over to their table, he wanted to see if his eyes were seeing things. But as he made it to them, his eyes were right. Eddie was holding hands with Death.

"Can I talk to you?" Steve asked, his eyes on Eddie.

"One second," Eddie said, softly kissing her hand before he let go.

The two huddled over to the side, Steve whispering harshly.

"Are you insane?"

"She's still a person!" Eddie argued

"She's a killer, Eddie. You can't just get sucked into her looks. She's evil."

"She's not! It's a job. She doesn't kill randomly. She only goes when she's called. There's some human inside of her, I'm going to bring it out. She just needs someone to show her" Eddie explained.

"You are going to risk yourself and all your friends because you want to find the human in her?" Steve scoffed, "I don't believe there's any human in her," Steve looked over at the table. She sat drumming her fingers as she twirled a knife in the air with her powers.

Eddie sighed, knowing she wasn't helping his case.

Steve noticed a look in Eddie's eyes. He was desperate and he had this soft look when his eyes cast over her.

"You fell for her already, didn't you?" Steve chuckled. It was nice to see Eddie had a romantic side to him. Steve remembered the feeling of falling in love for the first time.

"Yes," Eddie sighed. "Which I know is crazy but trust me, she came to my house and do you know how easily she could have killed me if she wanted to?"

Steve sighed, he nodded his head. Sometimes he hated being a good friend.

"Well," he puffed, landing his hand on Eddie's shoulder, "Enjoy your date. And the gang will need to hear all about it."

The hand that was on Eddie's shoulder was suddenly ripped off. Steve cried out as his arm was bent backwards behind his back and slammed into a wall.

"Y/N!" Eddie hissed, taking her body off of Steve's.

The rest of the gang looked at the commotion, fast on their feet to run to Steve.

"Sorry!" Y/N said, a look of shock in her eyes. "I felt something burn in my body and lost it."

"From what?" Steve asked, his eyes huge as he sassed the girl, who he now noticed was dressed in Eddie's clothes.

"You touched Eddie," Y/N shrugged. She wasn't exactly sure herself.

"What's going on?" Robin asked. Quickly looking Death up and down, which didn't go unnoticed by Eddie. He snapped his fingers and Robin looked at him.

"Well," Steve said as he rubbed his arm, "looks like Eddie and um Y/N here are on a date."

The gang were shocked, not sure what to say.

"And she's the jealous type," Steve added through his clenched teeth.

"I'll stop by later and talk yeah? I'd like to enjoy my date," Eddie said as he slipped his hand into hers.

"Uh sure," Nancy said, still giving the two a weird look. Jonathan kept quiet, but he was just as confused.

The gang walked back to their table, Robin looking over her shoulder as the two sat back down.

"How the hell did he manage to swing her? She's way too hot for him," Robin scoffed.

"Oh little Rob, we'll get you your own little Death lover," Steve teased.

~~~

Within a few months, Y/N was around more often. She was glued to Eddie's side whenever she could be. Eddie loved it. He loved always having someone on his arm, and he wasn't mad about the kisses that were always placed on his skin.

The gang accepted her, a little on edge at times but she was mostly harmless. It was clear that the two were head over heels for each other in their own ways.

The times she was called to do her work, Eddie waited in his trailer. His heart warming when she appeared back within minutes, claiming she missed him.

Then she'd slide in his lap, Eddie's hands landing on her hips. He rubbed his thumb against her skin, thankful for the holes in her suit. He was guilty of getting hard whenever he saw her dressed in her suit. She was Death so of course she was mean about it. Rocking her hips against him as she slowly kissed his lips.

She was his and he was hers.

Who knew Death could make someone feel so alive.

@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93 @gretavankleep37 @bellaisswagger @arlxt @ineedmentalhelp123

[breadvidence]

I've dithered over making this post because I will feel incredibly silly if everyone else got this on the first go-through rather than the—Lord alone knows how many times I've read this particular scene, actually—but there I was, me and "The Seventh Circle and the Eighth Heaven"—as you do, for idle and entertainment, and I reach

If you will allow it, I will come to see her. I assure you that I desire it greatly. If I had not cared to see Cosette, I should not have made to you the confession that I have made, I should have gone away; but, as I desired to remain in the place where Cosette is, and to continue to see her, I had to tell you about it honestly. You follow my reasoning, do you not? it is a matter easily understood.

And realized that despite the character stating his reason right there in the text I have misunderstood badly. I took Valjean's intent with this confession and in his behavior afterwards to be separation from Cosette, that his desired outcome is to die alone, that he struggles against his love of her to reach that solitude, but it's—not. He says earlier that it's not, as well.

Stay, the unfortunate point is that I have a thread in my heart, which keeps me fast. It is when one is old that that sort of thread is particularly solid. All life falls in ruin around one; one resists. Had I been able to tear out that thread, to break it, to undo the knot or to cut it, to go far away, I should have been safe. I had only to go away; there are diligences in the Rue Bouloy; you are happy; I am going. I have tried to break that thread, I have jerked at it, it would not break, I tore my heart with it.

The thread—to Cosette. He can't separate himself. He would not have to make this confession if he could simply leave her. Therefore he has to confess to Marius for two reasons, as I see it: (1) a big dramatic compulsion to honesty about his symbolic status as one who cannot live in the family of men, sure, but (2) like, real literally, he cannot live in the house. Valjean is practical, he makes arrangements, he's smart, his confession draws from the saint but I think it's also the thief, and what does the thief need? A co-conspirator. Both morally and practically he's averse to living at the Rue des Filles-du-Calvaire, and with both Cosette and her "master" Marius pushing him to move in, he'd have to move totally away, as he's certainly not going to give in—but now he's got Marius' backing to allow him to stay at the Rue de l'Homme-Armé, and he can exist in the in-between space he's always occupied, there in the back courtyard of Cosette's life.

I always wondered at Valjean's vacillation—that he says "To-day, Cosette passes out of my life; our two roads part. Henceforth, I can do nothing for her.", then begs Marius for the right to visit her. But he didn't change his intent at all; he was always keen to visit, to live on the crumbs that scatter from the table. He simply can't pull up a chair.

Marius' passive-aggressive attack on that thread, the destruction of Valjean's heart, Valjean is complicit in accepting that, yes. But he did not come into this parlor looking for that outcome.

🤦‍♂️

[vampiricvenus]

If for nothing else, I'm glad that so many people went completely mask off this US presidential election because it finished drilling into my head that you simply cannot work with liberals, especially liberals inhabiting the belly of the beast, no matter how marginalized they are.

I used to have much higher hopes and expectations regarding liberals of color and LGBT liberals specifically. I was deeply deluded into the well-meaning but ultimately naive belief that those people just needed to be nudged a bit into the right path and surely at least some of them would open their eyes and act in the interest of the collective or have like... Principles. Or common sense. I used to be one of them, after all. Right? If little ol', average me, who was raised by Christo-fascist Catholic conservative parents, could go from sharing their beliefs, to then being a liberal, to what I am now, surely they all could too, right?

But not everybody wants to change! Not everybody has it in them to actually want the collective good over the instant gratification of the individual self and just happens to be misguided and indoctrinated. Most people truly have no vision for the future long term, no willingness to sacrifice immediate pleasures, and no interest in standing in solidarity that's not immediately beneficial for themselves too if it requires anything more meaningful and taxing than wearing some corny pin and typing in a hashtag onto their bios.

And being marginalized isn't inherently a teacher. A lot of genuinely marginalized, oppressed people don't see themselves as one of the many sacrificial lambs of our current systems, who must fight together so that no one else has to occupy their place again. Most only see themselves as temporarily embarrassed future tyrants or aristocrats, and that's it.

It's depressing and lonely, but it is what it is and I'm done willingly blinding myself to it.

[akirathedramaqueen]

CBT and Exposure Therapy: Blitzø Showcase

An important (really, don't skip) disclaimer

If you are contemplating whether or not you would benefit from any kind of therapy, consider consulting with your medical provider first. While I did my best to validate all the points made using publicly available resources, I am not a medical professional. At the very least, I strongly advise that you do your own research and not take some amateur's opinion about a character from a silly demon show for granted.

"Everyone in this show needs fucking therapy STAT!"

We hear fans screaming into the void every now and then. Me too. I plead guilty and I willingly put myself in custody. But I am not taking these words back.

Especially often it is being said with Blitzø in mind, who, as hinted earlier and clearly shown in the latest episode, Ghostfuckers, is not doing okay. Not in the slightest.

Which is . . . yes. Indeed, trauma-ridden Blitzø is a major problem for both him and those around him. Yes, we see him reaching his lowest point now exactly because he left these gaping wounds untreated for so long.

But the tricky question is—how, though? What to do? Will a good talking to a confidante help? Or, maybe, some kind of shock would snap him out of the spiral?

I've been pondering on this topic for more than 4 months, and, as the Ghostfuckers came out, I finally got all the data I need to prove a point. The show did all the job for me and effectively made Blitzø go through improvised versions of two popular therapy techniques. And, before I even start, I want to say—I am so glad with what we ended up with. What they did, and, more importantly, didn't do, aligns well with how it would likely happen in real life.

So buckle up, and let's see where it gets us!

Therapy # 1. Cognitive-behavioral therapy, or CBT

This is, in essence and with some corrections, your good old talking. Here you can find more information about it, so, if you're not familiar with the topic, I recommend following the link first.

But, very shortly: CBT is an extremely common approach to be tried while you're dealing with anxiety, depression, and a number of other mental disorders. What it aims to do is to help you get past unhelpful thinking (distortions) and learn not to act on it.

Looks like it fits the bill, right? Blitzø has a lot of issues with self-fulfilling prophecies, infuriatingly stupid assumptions, poorly thought-out actions . . .

But he's not like, you know . . . w-we're not, like . . . we're not doing a . . . w-we . . . what's betw— It's a transactional fucking, you see.

If you don't feel like coming, that's OK! I'm sure I can do without it for one month. :)

Stolas only cares about having a rugged peasant raw-dog him into his matress! It's nothing, ya know . . . it's nothing else.

You . . . no longer have any obligation to see me, to touch me, to bed me . . . You are— you are free of me.

He sees things which aren't truly there.

It's not Stolas giving him space after the disaster in the 'Ozzie's.' It must be Stolas not needing him anymore, getting tired of him.

It's not Stolas caring about Blitzø. He is a royal, why would he care how an imp's day he happened to be fucking was?

It's not Stolas setting Blitzø free and putting an end to a problematic transaction they had with the hope for it to grow into something more. It's him getting rid of Blitzø.

As a result, he ends up hurting himself and the relationship he had with that one sad gay bird he happened to fall deeply for but literally trashed in his own house twice, acting on nothing more than frenetic fear of losing Stolas, but in reality, driving him away even more . . . for good.

I mean, you royal fucks think you can do this every time, like you can just play with our feelings because we're smaller and not as important!

Ha! I'm right, aren't I? You get off getting plowed by people you look down on!

And I can sorry more people, everyone but you! 'Cause I don't owe you dick! Everyone, but you . . .

So, the case's closed? Let someone—say, Millie—talk to him and tell him how wrong he was about himself and the others?

Well, here's the thing. Despite him being infinitely wrong about Stolas's intentions, we can't deny the fact that every one of his beliefs was not, in fact, a distortion. It'd led him to wrong conclusions, yes, but it was built on the information he received and legitimate experiences he had in his life. Here are only some of the facts connected to only this situation with Stolas, but there are other problematic behaviors and other reasons for him acting the way he does.

Fact # 1. The circus fire did happen, and Blitzø was the reason for it. Unintentional, and of course it wasn't his fault, but it still ruined the lives of many people—him included. Blitzø cannot act like it never occurred.

Fact # 2. Hell is divided by class and race. Their situationship with the grimoire was an embodiment of that inequality. A lot of Blitzø's outburst during the Full Moon and later in the Apology Tour was connected to it, to his beliefs that Stolas is the same as the rest of the privileged circle. Beliefs, I stress, justified by the real world. Stolas is more of an exception, and even then, his behavior is only different when it comes to Blitzø. He still acts the same toward other imps.

Fact # 3. We knew about Stolas's intentions all along, but before that fateful Full Moon, what Blitzø saw was Stolas avoiding him and not communicating the issue the Ozzie's date had raised. And before Ozzie's? Stolas did act entitled and inappropriate. He was baby-talking to Blitzø and used derogatory terms while addressing him. The dude literally called him an impish plaything in the Truth Seekers.

Fact # 4. Blitzø's heavily implied (though not officially confirmed by the show) existing conditions—ADHD*, BPD**, PTSD, and dyslexia/dyscalculia***—do affect his life, and while Hell seems to be somewhat receptive of neurodivergence, he still has to deal with it every single fucking day. He is going to be avoidant and afraid to be abandoned at the same time. He is going to hate himself. His learning disabilities are going to make his life harder. No way around it.

Note: *, **, and *** contain links to separate meta-analyses from @timkontheunsure and @tealvenetianmask about the respective conditions and how they show themselves in Blitzø's case.

And my beef with CBT here is exactly that. CBT's goal is to gaslight you into believing your distortions hold no water and suggests you just ignore them. And, as I've shown with Blitzø, these reactions and assumptions aren't baseless. They are legitimate, and, in fact, sometimes help to get by. Even though it's a crooked crutch, you can't learn to walk properly by just throwing that crutch away. You're still going to limp, and oh, will it be painful.

This is oversimplistic and dismissive. Anxiety and depression don't come out of the blue, and with mental disabilities, it's even deeper. The class/disability stigma is alive and strong, and just slapping a "you're fine" bandaid on your traumatized self isn't going to help.

Therapy # 2. Exposure therapy.

Exposure therapy is another approach commonly used while dealing with traumatic past and its aftermath—PTSD, anxiety, phobias, and such. Again, if you're not familiar, there's the link for you, but very shortly—the therapist puts the patient in a safe environment and 'exposes' them to the feared object in question for limited periods of time. The goal is to eventually get rid of the targeted fear and decrease avoidance.

And Blitzø has got some phobias for sure.

The fear of letting everyone down. Again.

And the fear of abandonment. Again.

All of it is a result of self-hatred, sitting so deeply it rules his life and his vision of how others perceive him. Said it himself. Almost.

So, where and how does the show expose Blitzø to his traumatic past?

First, the most recent, and the most obvious one—Rolando and his slideshow of all traumatic events Blitzø ever had in his life.

Second—Blitzø's drug trip in the Truth Seekers. While it does not contain the events of the past as they were, it does force him to face his fears.

Are you worried I might have enough of it one day as well? . . . You're going to die alone! . . . You're going to die alone, Blitzo!

With some stretch, the third one is Verosika's 'Blitzo sucks' party. Where Blitzø was forced to see the consequences of his avoidance and rejection.

Note: to be clear, I do think the party does not show the true extent of Blitzø's actions and how much he'd hurt people. It was exaggerated by Verosika, and here I explain why this is the case.

So, what gives? Or, rather, what gives it not?

It might sound funny now, considering I brought it up myself, but I, once again, say this is not therapeutic, just as CBT kind of 'talking.' If anything, all these three events did more harm than good.

The D.H.O.R.K.S.'s goal in the Truth Seekers was to torture the information out of Blitzø. He was not supposed to overcome it. He was supposed to crack.

The Verosika's goal was to ruin Blitzø's reputation. She was working her ass off to prove he's just a heartless freak.

The Rolando's goal was to fucking kill Blitzø.

And okay, their motivations had nothing to do with helping him, but maybe it did, in its own twisted way?

No. The writers added this to push Blitzø past the breaking point, not to heal him, and to show us more of his lore. Each time he was forced to face his past or fears or consequences, he was only spiraling more.

The only thing which did him some good was . . . well, Millie finally seeing his bravado mask falling off. But the cost of it was way too high. Not worth it.

To the therapy's defense, some points why it would never work in the way it was done in the show:

Blitzø had never given his consent and was not ready to face it. I might be very rude right now, but go and try producing some explosion-like sounds in front of war veterans without letting them know first and see what happens.

The amount of fearful experience exposed was way too overboard. He couldn't possibly digest it in a healthy way.

The environment was not safe. It was straight-up retraumatizing, an intentional one.

So there's that.

But what helped then?

We've briefly brushed over the fact Millie did talk to Blitzø. While I did imply this might be an example of CBT, here are some key deviations from the classic therapy which made all the difference.

Millie didn't sugarcoat all the shit Blitzø did. He was hurting their business. He didn't pay her. He was reduced to Bethanie. It showed her opinion can be trusted.

Millie apologized for not being there for him sooner. She admitted she relied too much on Blitzø being bulletproof, unbothered by everything. She admitted she didn't support him in a way he always did.

While proving she could never hate Blitzø, she used their common story, one he knows and can recall. She used evidence to prove him wrong, not a "it's all in your head" bandaid. And more than that, later she proved it with action—not for one second did she believe Rolando and his shittalk about what Blitzø supposedly was thinking about her. Her unwavering faith spoke more than any words ever could.

Getting back to exposure therapy . . . Metaphorically, she reminded Blitzø he can handle a beating or two. And physically beat the infestor demon out of him, which, as we can see later, didn't really affect Blitzø that much. He wasn't even battered. So, apparently, when the said exposure is done by someone who genuinely tries to make you feel better and knows your limits well, it might just work?

And finally, Millie acknowledged Blitzø's pain. She didn't brush it away. She validated him.

What all of this is about?

Like every treatment, too much of a medicine can become poisonous. So are CBT and exposure therapy.

They might help, and lots of research shows they do in certain cases. But there are limitations to what they can and cannot achieve, and they have to be adjusted to each individual story, to each trauma, and they should not be applied as a way to mend the outcome of the trauma without taking into account the story it comes with. Again, legitimate concerns and experiences cannot be brushed away or ignored.

Actualy . . . we've seen where it leads in the show too. In the beginning, Millie was quite dismissive of Blitzø's worries—all of this over a . . . breakup?

And here it comes full circle.

Only when Millie started taking Blitzø seriously, did it help them progress. And look how quickly we've switched from a complete despair to a glimmer of hope! Isn't that a beautiful closing scene?

As a closing note—we do not need to 'fix' Blitzø. After all this shit he went through, there won't be a day where he wakes up and be like, "Hey, I don't hate myself anymore! And look, I'm not afraid to be abandoned or misunderstood!"

I'm sorry to break it to you, but this is a lifelong battle. Being mentally whole, healthy, and constantly happy is no more than a myth, and everyone has their own demons and skeletons to deal with.

What Blitzø needs is some good support system to pull him back when he's down.

And boy, do I hope that one particular owl will fill in that role of unyielding pillar for Blitzø each time our lizard will fall into that pit again. Look, I love Millie, but there's only so much she can do. She can't be always present, she has her own life . . . and her own disaster of a husband to look after (affectionate <3). Here and here @lost-romantique talks about Stolas's capacity of loving, with me occasionally nodding, ha-ha. But to be short—it's fucking immense. And since he loves words, I do believe he has all the energy to tell again and again and again how awesome Blitzø is. Even if Blitzø wouldn't believe it himself.

[aingeal98]

Arcane spoilers and musing

It's so interesting to me that Vi and Jinx are both not big picture people, always focused on their loved ones around them, meanwhile everyone else in the cast from Ekko to Cait to Mel have ideals and ambitions to shape society. Vi and Jinx are both aware of their place in society of course and they have thoughts and feelings about it, but it's not what drives them for 99% of the story. Jinx blows up a bridge full of enforcers and hums the song she sang to distract herself when years ago on the very same bridge enforcers killed her parents. And yet she wouldn't be doing any of it if not to get the gemstone back, which she only really wants as a means to prove to Silco that she can be strong and useful and deserving of her place by his side. Her drive is all personal and focused on the people around her, the karmic retribution towards the enforcers is a nice bit of icing on the cake.

Similarly Vi grew up hating and resenting topside but the one time she lead others in a decision to steal from them the resulting domino effect left her so weighed down by guilt that she has spent the rest of her life desperately trying to protect her loved ones from more hurt and harm and either failing or getting rejected by said loved ones every time. She is driven by guilt and the determination to make things right and being unable to see beyond that has now left her with no one and nothing. She was living for Powder and Powder said I'm a monster called Jinx now that you created. She was living to stop that monster and make things right for Caitlyn because Jinx deliberately kidnapped Cait due to her bond with Vi, and that led her to ignore every red flag and cross every moral line only to get rejected by Cait anyways. She can't go back to Ekko after what she and the enforcers did. She has no one now.

And their S2 arcs are so interesting to me because Vi finally hits rock bottom, zero hope, and now has to find a reason to start living for herself. Her decision to just make a living fighting and drinking away the pain makes so much sense but I'm so curious how they're going to get her out of that pit of self loathing and depression.

Meanwhile Jinx has accidentally tripped her way into becoming a revolutionairy symbol due to personal hijinxs and spite. Which is amazing. You never focused on the greater implications of your actions and harmed your community for years but congrats you're an inspiration and a figurehead now. You mean something on your own. There's no one person, Vi or Silco or Mylo, who you need to prove yourself to. Everyone is now determined to prove themselves to be like YOU. How do you handle that?

(sidenote if I was Ekko I would be so salty like what do you mean I spent years actually helping my community with a vision for a better Zaun fighting against both Silco and enforcers, and these two sisters who I know for a fact are nowhere near as committed to Zaun as I am and have both actively harmed citizens accidentally spark a revolution while working out family drama. Cool cool cool fuck you all I'm inventing time travel.)

[lewkwoodnco]

Okay I’m just so proud of this edit I just havee to talk abt some of the scene choices hehe🙈🙈

Mon, pine - ngl i completely forgot this scene existed until I randomly stumbled upon it while looking for some other screencaps and thank god I did cuz it fits SO WELL??? Lucy’s possessed by Annabel who’s talking abt someone else obviously but just LOOK at Lockwood’s face half of him wants to snap Lucy out of it/make sure she stays safe and the other half is just mesmerised by the sight of her looking at him like that. And the dialogue??? YOU LOVE ME, DONT YOU????? And he so obviously does but can’t say it/ is too scared to and it’s frightening to see lucy like this but he can’t look away he’s drinking in the sight like a man starved 😭 just the juxtaposition of lovkwood’s pining and the cheekily on-the-nose ‘you love me don’t you’ line creates this delicious tension ARGH the writers were sick SICKKK for this

Tue, long - as soon as he first laid eyes on lucy it’s like he can’t help but let his gaze linger over her and even though she’s the candidate being interviewed the way he tries to impress her as he gives her the tour (the basement training area, the ‘high security’ storage room, her room in the attic) it’s like you can tell he’s already desperately hoping that she’ll join as if he’s longing for company like hers

Wed, ache - love is nothing if not pain like other than the obvious physical pain of being in such close proximity to a flare explosion etc bro is HURTING with regret for putting her (and george) in danger just cuz he insisted they take the case and now they’re in so deep and its all his fault but also he just wanted to fix the 62 sheen road fallout keep his agency open (it’s almost like he wants to prove to her that he/lockwood and co. is worth sticking with) but it’s all gone so wrong and he’s just drowningggg in physical and mental anguish only love can hurt/ACHE like this frfr

Thu, sigh - but at the end of the day lockwood is still a 16 ish year old boy who sucks at expressing his innermost feelings and doesn’t know how to deal with jealousy in any way other than being moody about it/suppressing it and this scene is like yea these are kids fighting ghosts night after night but for five minutes they get to be regular angsty teenagers and have the air between them hang heavy with unspoken words and it’s all so dumb and frustrating but also they’re teenagers what ELSE are they going to do HHHHHHH like look at his face!!! bro is befuddled. dumbfounded. bamboozled even. (what do you mean you’re going out with Kipps i thought we’ve been playing house tgt what)

Fri, lament - as funny as this scene is it’s oddly sweet how he’s ranting so openly to Lucy and like the way she tries to reason with him (he probably signed the same NDA we did) and he STILL stomps around throwing a fit aurgghh it’s so adorable just kiss already

Sat, crave - just look at him. bro is down bad for every single part of lucy it’s like he can’t get enough of her, he’s not even hiding it here like look at him watch her like she’s the most precious thing in the world ughhh

Sun, yearn - ooh this scene is like the breaking point of all the accumulated hidden feelings and thoughts between them and he’s messed up so badly atp even lucy is properly pissed (where’s that incorrect quote - my girl is mad at me I am going to KILL myself) but he’s just too paralysed by 16-year-old-boy syndrome to respond to her (tho he finally gets his head on somewhat right in the next scene) so he just stares at her and takes the scolding wondering how things got this bad when all he had done was care and love and yearn for Lucy (can’t you see his heart clawing out of his chest to get to her)

Also I think it’s so hilarious that in the scene in the top gif he’s talking to lucy aka the very person that has him BOOKED AND BUSY with longing 😭😭

a week in the life of London's youngest agency head (insp.)

[knottedhearts]

Argument Pt 2: M.S

The cold air hit your face as you stepped outside, the quiet of the night wrapping around you like a blanket. The tension in your chest began to loosen, but the knot in your stomach remained. The whole argument with Matt had left you feeling exhausted, like your body was at war with itself between the physical pain and the emotional toll of the fight. You hadn’t meant to storm out like that, but you didn’t know how else to handle it.

You didn’t even know where you were going, just walking, letting the cool night air clear your mind. The city was quiet, the streets empty save for a few passing cars and distant voices, nothing but the occasional sound of your footsteps against the pavement.

You found yourself at the nearby park, sitting on a bench beneath a streetlamp. It wasn’t much, but it was a place to breathe, a space to think. Your phone buzzed in your pocket, and for a moment, you considered ignoring it. But you couldn’t. It was Matt.

You hesitated before pulling it out. There was a message: "I'm sorry. I didn’t mean it. Can we talk?"

You stared at the screen for a moment, the apology almost feeling too little too late, but something inside of you softened. You knew Matt’s pride was as big as his voice, so for him to admit that much meant something. The frustration in your chest ebbed a little, replaced by a mix of confusion and the tiniest shred of hope.

You typed out a quick reply: "I need space right now. I can’t talk."

You sat there for a while, the screen of your phone glowing in the dim light as you waited for a response. When the buzz came again, you opened it to find a single sentence: "I understand. I just want you to be okay."

For a moment, you just stared at the words, not knowing how to feel. Was it genuine? Did he really understand? You wanted to believe it, but your heart was still heavy with everything that had been said. You couldn’t shake the feeling that this fight had dug a deeper divide between the two of you.

You exhaled slowly and looked up at the stars, letting the chill of the night ground you. The silence was a comfort, though it didn’t completely take away the lingering tension. You weren’t sure how to fix things right now, but you knew you couldn’t stay angry forever.

After a while, you felt your phone buzz once more, this time with a call. It was Matt.

You debated for a moment before answering, your thumb hovering over the screen before finally accepting. "Hey," you said, your voice quieter than before, the tension still not fully gone.

"Hey," Matt’s voice came through, softer than usual, almost hesitant. "I know you’re pissed, and I know I messed up. I shouldn’t have been so loud, and I should’ve listened when you said you weren’t feeling well. I… I get it now."

You sighed, rubbing your forehead as you leaned back against the bench. "Matt, it’s not just about the noise. It’s about not feeling heard. I need you to see when I’m struggling, not just assume I’ll get over it."

He was quiet for a moment, the sound of his breathing coming through the phone. "I’m sorry. I really am. I didn’t realize how bad it was for you. I just… I didn’t know how to tone it down, you know? It’s like I’m stuck in my own head sometimes, and I forget that there are people around me who need something different."

"Yeah, well," you paused, your voice steady but tired, "maybe it’s time you start noticing."

Another silence passed, but this time, it wasn’t heavy. It felt like he was reflecting, trying to understand, really trying.

"I get that," he said eventually, his voice quieter than before. "I don’t want to hurt you, and I don’t want to make it worse. I’ll do better. I just… I care about you, and I didn’t mean to make you feel like your needs didn’t matter."

There was something in his words that made the anger in your chest loosen a little more. It wasn’t perfect, and the fight was still fresh in your mind, but you knew this was the start of something. The start of him learning how to be more considerate, how to see when you were struggling instead of barreling through with his own world.

"I know you didn’t," you said softly, your fingers tracing the edge of your phone. "But you have to hear me next time, Matt. I don’t want to be the one always having to ask for peace. I need you to understand that."

"I do," he replied quietly. "I’ll make sure of it."

You leaned back, your shoulders loosening just a little, the tension still present but not as overwhelming. "Thanks," you said, your voice a little more even now. "I just… need a little time to cool down."

"I get it. Take all the time you need," Matt said, his voice gentle. "I’ll be here when you’re ready."

The conversation ended shortly after, and as you sat there in the quiet park, the cold air wrapping around you, you realized that maybe this wasn’t the end. Maybe this was the start of a bigger change, one where both of you learned to meet in the middle, to understand each other better.

You didn’t know when you’d be ready to go back, but for the first time that evening, the idea of heading home didn’t seem so daunting. There was still work to do, but things would get better. You had to believe that.

As you stood up from the bench, the weight on your chest felt lighter. With each step, you felt a little more like yourself, a little more hopeful that the space and time would help Matt understand, and that maybe, just maybe, you could find a way to make things work between you two.

[burningcheese-merchant]

"I'm Sorry" - BurningCheese Short #9

Gonna be traveling somewhere soon, probably won't be back here for a few days. Wanted to leave you all with a story before I go. (I wrote it sometime ago, I've just been waiting for a good time to drop it. I guess now will do haha)

Plan on answering asks and posting BurningCheese kids when I get back (I have almost 100 asks in my inbox and I feel really bad for leaving them there. I'm genuinely sorry to you all, I actually am reading what you send me, I promise I won't leave you hanging forever. I answered a couple today and I'll keep it up soon). In the meantime, eat this short story where we see our favorite couple take an important step together, and Burning Spice take an important step himself

"I'm sorry."

Golden Cheese blinked. "I... Pardon?"

"I'm sorry," Burning Spice said again.

"You're sorry?" she echoed. "Sorry for... what?"

He paused for a long while before he answered. "For Beast-Yeast."

"For Beast-Yeast?" Slowly, she turned to face him, eyeing him critically. "And where is this coming from, exactly?"

"Why does it matter?" Burning Spice asked, keeping his gaze trained on the bustling city far below. "I am sorry. That is all I have to say."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "And... what? You think that means anything? You think one, single apology will change the past? You think it's enough to atone for all of your heinous crimes?"

"No."

"Then what audacity is this? Why even say it?"

"Because I want to," he said. "It's as simple as that."

Another long pause, longer than the last, came and went before Golden Cheese spoke up again. "Why should I even believe you when you say such words?" she asked. "What reason do I have to think you're being sincere?"

"Someone such as I saying it at all ought to be reason enough. You think I'd ever utter something so soft and pathetic to anyone else, for any reason? Even under penalty of death?"

"...Hmph."

A third pause came - shorter than the first two, because Golden Cheese couldn't bring herself to wait any longer than that.

"And what makes you think I forgive you? Or that I would ever even consider doing so?"

"You allowed me into your kingdom," he said, still refusing to look at her. "Into your palace, even. Here we stand together, watching your subjects from afar. You snuck me in so no one would see or notice me. Perhaps you don't forgive me at all... but you've let go enough that you've allowed yourself to do this much. Haven't you?"

"I..."

The fourth pause made itself known, hanging over the two of them as they stared down into the busy streets of the Golden Cheese Kingdom. It showed itself out when, at last, Burning Spice turned to look at Golden Cheese.

"I'm sorry," he told her one more time. His voice was soft. Quiet. In his eyes and on his face were emotions that only he himself would know how to read.

Golden Cheese looked right back at him, her eyebrows knit and mouth set in a slight frown. She said nothing, instead only nodding slowly, tentatively - unsure of how to acknowledge him, but willing to do so nevertheless.

When the fifth pause came, it weighed down on them both terribly, though who felt its burden worse was hard to tell. The silence was thick, tense, awkward. Granting cover to all the words Golden Cheese couldn't bring herself to say. Making up for all the words Burning Spice didn't have left to give.

Everlasting, like the city bathed in gold and neon lights waiting beyond the balcony railing and stretching on endlessly into the horizon.

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

I will let you all decide for yourselves what led to this moment, and what happened afterwards.

[cherrielyme]

i like you best

Rafe Cameron x Pogue!Reader | 18+ content | no other warnings wc: 2931 ∘•···············•∘ʚ ♡ ɞ∘•················•∘

It’s Liv who catches him looking first. “Don’t look,” she says, blowing the smoke from her joint out of her nose as she speaks. Someone has strung up fairy lights in the trees and she looks ethereal in their soft glow.

Of course you look, glancing behind you with an inhale on your own joint, feeling the pleasant burn of the smoke coiling in your lungs. He’s standing just outside the glass doors to the yard, staring with that single-minded intensity he gets about things. Obsession.

You blow out the smoke and look right back. He jerks his head a little, to the left, and you know what it means, know what he’s saying when you turn back around to stub out what’s left of your joint.

“I don’t know what you see in him, Ames,” Liv says, warning in her voice, her eyes tracking him as he walks back into the house.

“I know.”

She sighs, grinding out her own joint before checking her phone. 

“Hey,” you say. “You ok if I go?”

“Yeah. Jack’s gonna be here soon.” You wonder if she knows how much her eyes light up when she talks about her boyfriend, and then you wonder what your face looks like when you talk about Rafe. Actually, you don’t talk about Rafe, and nothing really makes you happy anymore, so there’s that.

“K,” you say, and move to go but she grabs your wrist and looks at you, serious.

“Be careful around him. I mean it,” she says, and your stomach warms at the worry in her tone. You guess some things still make you happy.

“He’s giving me what I need.” You give her a small smile, as if that will make it ok.

She frowns, but lets go and says “Ok. See you tomorrow.”

You trail across the backyard, not really in any hurry to get inside. Your head feels fuzzy, not too much, just a little bit, the way you like. You know he’s waiting for you. It’s quiet out in the yard, just the stoners and smokers and the Pogues who don’t care that it’s a Kook throwing tonight’s party.

The noise hits you like a slap when you slide the door open to the living room, the humidity hits you right after, and you blink a little in the dim light of the room, surveying the crowd inside. It’s a mix of people, mostly Kooks, some people you don’t recognize who are probably Tourons. There’s a harsh song playing, and someone has set up a strobe effect so you hurry through the room to the stairs.

The sounds melt away the further into the house you get, and you take it slowly, trailing your fingers along the wall. You know where he’ll be, see the room at the end of the hallway spilling soft light onto the floor.

You pause in the doorway, struck by him, just like you always are. He’s lounging on the bed, wearing a stupid pink polo and khaki shorts, and he’s barefoot, haloed in the glow from a lamp on the nightstand.

You shut the door, completely closing out the noise from the party downstairs, and you go to him.

He surges up off the bed in an instant, one strong hand around your waist, hot on the bare skin of your back in the gap between your shirt and shorts, the other tangled in your hair. He yanks your head back, and you gasp at the pain. He takes the opportunity to capture your mouth in a searing kiss, more teeth and tongue than anything else.

You wind your arms around his neck, holding him as tightly as you can. He moves from your mouth now, pressing open-mouthed kisses down your jaw before latching on to your neck, sucking and biting at the thin skin there. You moan, wanton, knowing that the pounding music from downstairs will ensure your privacy, but not really caring if anyone does hear. Distantly, you think that you’ll have to borrow one of your brother’s stupid ascots to cover these marks at work tomorrow.

He nips at you, viciously, and pulls your hair harder, encouragement to be louder. You whine, and grind down against him. He grunts, pulling you down against him, and you feel how hard he is for you, know that the only thing keeping you apart are his stupid little khakis and your cutoffs.

Suddenly, you can’t wait anymore, and you shove off of him, wincing when he comes away from your neck with a sharp sting. You sink to your knees in front of him, swallowing when he comes up on his forearms to watch you, bracketed in between his thighs. His hair is mussed and his lips are swollen and red, wet. It’s not fair, that someone like him could be so beautiful.

You touch him over his shorts, reveling in the way his eyes close and his head falls back, the way he breathes out harshly as you rub him. You go for his fly, but–

“Stop.” His hands are on yours, pulling you away from him. You’re confused, and a thin coil of embarrassment threatens. He’s not turning you down, is he?

But no, he’s speaking again, commanding. “Stand up. Take your clothes off.”

You do, reaching for the hem of your shirt, but he stops you again.

“No. Turn around. Do it slow.” 

You stop, look at him. His eyes are dark and his eyelashes are thick as he looks up at you, face expectant.

You turn and give him a show, pulling your tight tank top over your head. “Fuck,” he breathes out when he realizes you’re not wearing a bra. You hook your fingers around the waistband of your shorts next, slowly pulling them down until you’re just in your lacy black thong. You go to pull it down too, but for a third time, his words stop you.

“Leave it,” he says, and you shiver from the proximity and the need you hear in it. He’s right behind you now, breath brushing the back of your neck as he pulls your long hair over your left shoulder before licking a stripe up your neck and nipping at your ear.

Dreamily, you sigh, sinking back against him. He’s taken his shirt off, and you could swear you feel his heart beating as he presses his chest to your back. He wraps his arms around you again, caging your arms down against your sides so you can’t do anything but take it as he grabs your jaw with one hand, moving it to the side to give him more leverage as he goes back to ravaging your neck with his teeth. The other hand he puts on one of your tits, palming it and rolling the rapidly stiffening nipple in his fingers.

You can’t even drop your head back because of his grip on you, all you can do is take it, let the sensations wash over you. You can move your hips though, and you grind your ass back against him as much as you can, desperate to feel his length against you. And there it is, still tucked away in his stupid fucking khakis, but he’s shifted to, rocking gently against you.

He moves now, slowly walking you backwards towards the bed, and you think he’ll sit you both down, but at the last second he spins you so that the back of your knees hit the bed and you stumble onto your back. He goes with you, arms bracketing your head and hips snugly nestled in between your thighs. His pupils are blown, and you don’t know if it’s because of you or the coke you saw him do earlier or some combination of the two.

“Tell me what you want,” he says, barely a whisper, mouth so close you could capture it with yours if you leaned up.

“You know what I want,” you say, coy even though this is hardly your first time with him.

“I want you to say it,” he says, and your thighs clench around him involuntarily at the intensity in his voice. He notices, eyes crinkling even though his mouth stays in that harsh thin line you’re used to.

“Fuck me,” you say, barely a whisper, giving him what he wants. “I want you to fuck me so hard I forget about everything that isn’t you.”

He smiles, just a little, just a smirk, but it’s just for you so it’s ok.

“All you have to do is ask,” he says, just as quietly as you, and then it’s like a switch has flipped and he’s a maniac, pulling his dick out of his shorts and yanking your panties aside before shoving into you in one smooth motion.

You gasp at the stretch, the almost pain of it. You’re wet for him, always so wet for him, but he’s so big, and he’s rough. He doesn’t give you time to adjust to him, already setting a punishing pace, snapping his hips into yours.

He’s got one hand on your hip, fingers gripping so tightly that you know you’ll have marks in the morning. He lets go, just for a moment, so that he can yank one of your legs up to his shoulder, and you moan as this shifts him deeper into you.

“Oh, fuck,” he groans. “You’re so fucking tight and wet for me. No one else makes you feel like this.”

You barely hear him, so focused on the sensation, so good you could stay in it forever.

He doesn’t like this, and a sharp slap to your face brings you back. “Tell me,” he says, eyes hard, moving his grip down to rest lightly on your neck. He doesn’t squeeze, just rests his palm there, implication heavy and heady. “No one else makes you feel as good as I do.”

You nod, reveling in how it drags his calloused hand against your throat, how you can feel his fingers flutter around you when you take a breath. “It’s just you, you’re the only one,” you say.

“Good. Can you come like this?” he asks and before you can answer he moves his hand down to your clit, pressing in with his thumb, tracing the smallest circles.

Can you come like this? Yeah, you can, and you do, vision whiting out a little with the intensity with which it takes you, hadn’t realized how much the anticipation and his huge cock splitting you open had turned you on, how close you’d already been.

You cry out, first with pleasure and then with oversensitivity as he doesn’t relent, just keeps pounding away and circling your clit. You try to wiggle away, you’ve barely come down and you can already feel another orgasm cresting, and it’s not entirely a good feeling right now, but he doesn’t let you move.

“You’re not going anywhere,” he says, leaning close and biting your bottom lip hard and then soothing the sting with his tongue. “You’re gonna come again.”

You nod jerkily, knowing the game by now. This is what you’d asked for, when you told him to fuck you so hard the whole world was him. 

He changes his angle, just a little bit, getting a better grip on the sheets next to your head and pulling his hand away from your clit and moving it up to your throat. This time he does squeeze, just the way you like, light enough that you won’t pass out but hard enough that you can’t take a full breath.

“Touch yourself,” he demands, and his eyes shift from your face down to where he’s inside of you, to where you slip two of your fingers to the bundle of nerves. Even at your light touch, your pussy jumps, tightening around Rafe at the sensation, and he groans, hips stuttering a little.

You can tell he’s close, and you want him to come, want him inside of you, dripping down your thighs for the rest of the night. The combination of your filthy thoughts, your fingers, and his cock combine, pushing you over the edge once again. 

“Oh, fuck, Rafe!” You cry out, strangled, and you can’t breathe and your pussy tightens as it spasms, and Rafe finally pulls his gaze away from where the two of you are joined, his head dropping and eyes closing as he finally joins you, his hips smacking into yours as he falls over the edge, the sound of skin on skin obscenely loud in the quiet room.

You moan again when you feel him filling you, his cock jumping as he comes. He lets go of your throat and you realize how light-headed you were. Dragging in a full lungful of air for the first time in who knows how many minutes, you let him manhandle you, tugging lightly at your hair until you turn your face towards him so he can place a surprisingly gentle kiss on your lips.

“How do you feel?” he asks softly, and your heart hurts a little bit. When he’s rough with you, when he hurts you, it’s good. The softness is hard to handle. He seems to realize this though, because he doesn’t push you to answer, instead he pulls out of you, leaving you feeling bereft in his absence. The feeling doesn’t last for long though, because he’s already plunging two fingers into you,  holding your jaw so you can’t turn away from him.

“You only came twice. I bet you can go again.” With his hand on your jaw instead of the bedspread, he’s balancing on his elbows, and he’s that much closer to you. He doesn’t kiss you again, and you don’t kiss him, but your mouths are so close you’re breathing the same air. And now his fingers are curling, pressing through the mess inside of you to stroke your front wall and your whole body jolts at the sensation, so different from him pumping into you.

You let out another moan, still too overstimulated to do anything besides lay there and let him do what he wants. He shakes you, just a little. “Louder,” he commands. “I want everyone who comes up those stairs to know what we’re doing in here. What I’m doing to you.”

You acquiesce, your moan turning into a shriek as he does – something – inside of you that has you lifting your hips, involuntarily seeking more friction. He chuckles and you feel a blush forming on your tear-soaked face. He does it again and you’re really crying now, so out of your mind with overstimulation that there’s nowhere else for the emotion to go, both of your hands are on his arm, his wrist, clutching on because you don’t know what else to do and he twists his fingers again and tilts your head so his mouth is near your ear and you realize that he’s been saying something all this time, it’s just that it’s only now with his mouth so close that you realize it’s your name, he’s chanting it over and over again like it’s a prayer and– you shatter, screaming for real as you come the hardest you’ve come all night, practically gushing on his hand but he’s not stopping he’s still working you and you’re so oversensitive and his fingers are so big, you swear he added a third one at some point, and you don’t even come down before you’re flying again and you really and truly do black out at this point, the sensations just too much.

When you come back online he’s pulled his fingers out of you and he seems preoccupied with rubbing your thighs, massaging your combined fluids back into your skin. Of course he is, the freak is obsessed with having his mark on you.

You must have moved or made a noise because suddenly he’s laser-focused on you.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers, and it would be too much, too intimate but he knows that about you, and keeps going. “I love when you cry for me. Because of me.” And maybe that should scare you the most, that he knows what he can get away with saying to you, dressed up in language like he doesn’t really care.

He doesn’t let you dwell on it though, because he’s sliding his hand, the one that was inside of you, up to your mouth. “Open,” he says. “Taste us.”

And you do, tasting the swirl of his bitterness and salt mixed with your sweet, almost tangy juice. His pupils are still blown wide, his blue eyes deep and dark in the dimness of the room, and you know it’s been long enough for the coke to wear off, you’re not even really high anymore either, so it’s just him and you now.

You lie like this for a little while longer, letting him wipe your tear tracks away and trail his fingers over your skin and look at you, deeply, in a way he can’t do in the real world, when he’s a Kook and you’re a Pogue, and not just two people like you are now. 

He gave you what you needed. The world is quiet now, your problems feel far away. You feel sore and wrung out and sleepy. And if he can give you what you need like this, then you can give him what he needs too. Someone to lie with. Someone to be still with. Someone to take care of, even if it’s just in these quiet, stolen moments.

∘•···············•∘ʚ ♡ ɞ∘•················•∘∘•···············•∘ʚ ♡ ɞ∘•················•∘

if you made it this far, thanks for reading! this is my first time posting my writing lol if you like it please interact! i love to chat :)

[izzyy-stuff]

For your 300 follower bash, can I request a short story/drabble where the reader is either the sixth member of TXT or a member of a gg like maybe Le Sserafim or Aespa and is in a relationship with any member (I'm ot5 so it really doesn't matter who <3) I do kind of like the idea of Hyuka being the love interest and can totally picture the other members teasing him a lot, but again any member is fine <33

𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐋 - 𝐇𝐔𝐄𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐊𝐀𝐈

bf!blond!Kai x fem!reader

in which no matter how much his friends tease him about his girlfriend, he knows they love her just as much as he does.

wc 1.4k

warnings kissing, slightly suggestive

↪ izzy speaks... first fic for the 300 bash!! I am happy it's with huening too! I've been meaning to use these pictures for a while now.

event post | event masterlist

The smile on your face slowly fades away as you watch the three dots disappear, leaving you on ‘seen’. You raise an eyebrow in confusion, but you don’t get a chance to pay it any more attention as your best friend, Yunjin, wraps her arm around your shoulders, smirking.  

“Look who’s being all lovey-dovey again,” she teases, giggling as she snatches your phone. “You guys are so adorable it makes me sick.” Kazuha and Chaewon share a laugh with her, shaking their heads at the brunette. “Hey! Give it back! I’m in the middle of a conversation!” You try to take your phone back, but it only leads to more of Yujin’s laughing. 

Little did  you know that your dear boyfriend Kai is in the same situation as you, hiding his face in embarrassment as Beomgyu holds his phone. 

“Can’t wait to see you again,” Beomgyu reads out loud, running around the room. Usually, he wouldn’t dare to do something like this. It was Kai’s privacy, and there was no way he would cross the line, but a dare was a dare. 

“Just read it all! Get it over with,” Kai whines, his cheeks red as he stares down at his lap, listening just like everyone else. “Oh, god. I’m not reading that. That’s for sure,” Beomgyu frowns, catching Yeonjun’s attention. The youngest’s eyes widen as he realizes what chats one of his best friends has just stumbled upon. “No, no, no, don’t look through that! This far is enough. Give it back,” the blond looks up again, his eyes full of fear and awkwardness. 

But before Beomgyu can do as he asked for, Yeonjun is already up, stealing the phone from him. “Yeonjun!” Kai yells, his mind too clouded with thoughts to use honorifics. “Oh my god!” The eldest gasps. “How can our fans call you an angel?” He dramatizes. “You’re nasty.” 

“Just kill me,” Huening sighs, closing his eyes. Taehyun chuckles, patting his back. “It’s not the end of the world,” he reminds the blond, rolling his eyes when he notices Yeonjun taking pictures of the chats on his phone. Sometimes, he doubted if Jun was actually the eldest of them all. “It might be, though! She is going to kill me if she finds out you’ve read our chats.” 

“I won’t tell a soul,” Yeonjun proclaims, still laughing as he hands Kai his phone back. “But I’m glad you don’t act like a complete angel, at least with your girlfriend. Honestly, the whole innocent act has been freaking me out.” 

“I’m not even going to say anything to that,” Kai answers, gripping his phone tightly as if he were scared someone might take it away from him again. “Now, answer your girl. You don’t leave a girl waiting when she asks to hang out.” Hyuka rolls his eyes at him, opening his phone again, “I’m not stupid. I know what to do and what not.” 

“Right,” Beomgyu is the first to scoff, but it doesn’t move Kai a bit. Once his girlfriend had his attention, nothing bothered him anymore. 

♡⸝⸝  

You watch Sakura, Yujin and Kazuha go over the choreography repeatedly, mentally going over the steps along with them. You definitely couldn’t say you would excel the dance yet, but you’ve had enough for today. If you went through the choreography again, your legs might as well give up. 

“Okay, we’re clocking out now! Have fun!” Eunchae grins, swinging her bag over her shoulder while Chaewon stands beside her wearing the same annoying smirk. You catch Yujin rolling her eyes and have to laugh. “I am going to leave in a bit, too,” you say, and your best friend immediately turns to you. “What? I thought we were grabbing dinner together after practice!” She complains. 

You open your mouth to answer her, but all that leaves your lips is a shaky breath full of regret. You squeeze your eyes shut as you remember the plans you made, clapping your hands together and muttering a quiet “sorry” through them. Yujin sighs when she notices your eyes. She can’t even blame you. Not when you seem so genuine with your apology. “I kind of…forgot about it,” you admit. “And made plans with Kai instead.” 

“Alright then. You’re lucky I know Kai has been busy, and you haven’t seen him much lately,” she shakes her head, and you smile again, jumping up to hug her. “Thank you, thank you!” Yujin smiles as she wraps her hands around you. “We can have dinner tomorrow. What do you think?” You ask hopefully, and she chuckles, nodding. “Go hang out with your boyfriend now,” she says, pushing you toward the door with a laugh. 

“I’ll see you tonight! Bye!” You quickly wave at Sakura and Kazuha before the door closes behind you, and you stand in the hallway, beaming as you notice your boyfriend sitting on the side, scrolling on his phone. “Hey,” you greet him quietly, making him raise his head immediately. “You should have come in. No one would mind.” Kai grabs his bag from the bench, slightly shaking his head as he walks to you. “It’s fine,” he assures you before gently pressing his lips on yours, one of his hands wrapping around your waist while the other rests on your cheek. “Hi, pretty,” he mumbles his greeting against your lips, making you bite your bottom lip to constrain your smile. 

Hyuka holds your hand as you walk through the HYBE building, telling you about his practice and some of the stupid dares they did during their break – purposefully not mentioning the one involving his friends reading your chats – while you tell him about your practice and the main points of your new choreography, bragging about how fun they are. 

He only lets go of your hand when you get to the entrance, smiling as he lets you walk outside first, watching you walk to your car while he waits for a few minutes, just like he did many times before in order not to get anyone suspicious about your relationship with him. People don’t need to know that you’re on your way to his dorm. 

♡⸝⸝  

You chuckle at the familiar voices as you step inside the dorm room. You feel at home. Not only because of your boyfriend, but also his friends, who’ve never been anything but welcoming to you. 

“Don’t mind then. Beomgyu and Soobin got immersed in League again,” Yeonjun simply waves at you as he passes the front door on his way to his room. “Taehyun just finished making dinner, or you know where the snacks are,” he smiles. “Thank you,” you smile back, taking off your shoes. 

It doesn’t take much longer for Hyuka to arrive, too, pulling you in for a hug as soon as he gets to you. You giggle, wrapping your arms around him and relaxing. “Have they been bothering you a lot?” Your boyfriend asks softly, and you swear you could get lost in his eyes when they lock with yours. You shake your head, grabbing his hand. “You know that’s not possible.” You’re right. No matter how much his friends tease him about you whenever they get the chance, they love you just as much as Kai does. He has to smile, remembering all the times they had told him how happy they were for him. 

“Right,” Kai mumbles quietly, his eyes on your hand holding his as you take him to his room. 

No matter how much time he spends with you, every moment and touch will always be as important to him as when you first got together. “Get a room!” Beomgyu yells, making Hyuka snap out of his thoughts. “Shut up!” He yells back at him, hiding his flushed cheeks as he follows you. 

You never need to do much with Kai to have fun. Honestly, you prefer not to do anything when you’re with him. Being able to relax after a long day with some lazy kisses and back rubs sometimes means so much more than having big plans. And today is no different. 

Kai tugs your hair behind your ear and pulls you in for a kiss as soon as he sits on his bed. You get comfortable on his lap, grinning into the kiss as you close your eyes. “You’re so pretty,” he mumbles against your lips. “I haven’t been in the shower yet. I’m all stinky,” you laugh, cupping his cheek. “Still beautiful,” he assures you, not wasting any time and pressing his lips on yours again, unable to get enough. “I love you.” 

“I love you too,” you whisper back with a smile.

⋆✶ izzy's tags @beomiracles @seoulzie @adel222 @inkigayocamman @flowzel @love-be0m @virgo-and-libra @hwanghyunjinismybae @liaatiny @minaateez ✶⋆ Want to get notified? Join taglist here !

[unrelentingforse]

i don't like caitlyn (ACT 1 S2 SPOILERS)

the first season of arcane showed us how caitlyn was forced to face the harsh realities of people she was taught from a young age to hate. she saw how they were treated and how they survived in zaun. she changed her views...for a WHILE.

because she never deconstructed the way she THINKS about zaunites. she was about 24 when this all went down and this is concerning. because all of her formative years she spent believing that her life is more valuable than others. cailtyn is RICH RICH. so no wonder why as soon as she was faced with a loss she went back to her old ways.

the only reason caitlyn protected vi during the audience is because of sexual attraction. THAT'S THE ONLY REASON.

for cait vi was "one of the good ones". she said it herself in the first episode - she STILL sees vi as "the good zaunite" not as a person who has a LOT of reasons to hate piltover and enforsers.

they are from completely different worlds - vi is from the lowest of the low and caitlyn is from the richest family in piltover. she is privileged to a point nobody else can really conseptualize. she can NOT actually grasp how much she contributes to the oppresion of zaun and that's a HUGE roadblock in their relationship.

vi was pretty much forced into enforsers. she betrayed who she is, her beliefs and morals only for caitlyn. vi saw so many atrocities done by the enforsers and she became her own opressor. that's nothing to sneeze at.

but cait STILL thinks that vi is lower than her. it only took vi stopping her from SHOOTING A CHILD to betray her supposed lover. not only that - SHE HIT HER FOR NO GODDAMN REASON. SHE HIT HER IN THE STOMACH. WHERE SHE WAS STABBED.

caitlyn kiramman better have a damn good redemption arc because i can't bring myself to like her right now.

edit: i think i need to clarify this. i am NOT in any way, shape or form condoning her gassing the lanes. this post was mostly about caitlyn's fascism in relation to her situationship with vi. i could go even deeper into this but this is a topic for another time.

[call-me-chips]

New MHA oc! (More info below the cut :) )

Basic info:

Full name: Kyomu Mori (Mori is his surname) Nickname: Kyo Gender: Male (He/him) Sexuality: Gay Height: 6'2" Weight: 185lbs Age: 16 Birthday: April 6th Zodiac: Aries MBTI: ESTP-A Langauges: Japanese, English, Filipino Ethnicity: Japanese, Filipino Dominant hand: Right Scars: Scar on the upper center of his forehead Reason for scars: Unknown Piercings: 1 right eyebrow piercing, 1 lobe piercing on each ear Eye colour: Yellow Skin colour: Medium brown Hair colour: Light blue, white Hair style: High ponytail Hair length: Upper back Body type: Tall, muscular Special features: Anthro-like legs, long tail, oddly shaped ears, slightly sharp fingers, sharp canine teeth

MHA related:

Occupation: UA Student Hero name: Tamper Quirk: Memory Mutation. The ability to move, alter, and add to memories of both others and himself with just a touch More detailed quirk description: When the user touches another person with either their hands, feet, or tail, they are able to access the recent memories (recent being a few days) of the person and alter them. With further concentration and effort, they can access older memories (older being a week or more), but this is draining and difficult to successfully do. Although memory tampering can be performed with the hands, tail, and feet, the effect doesn't work as well with the feet. Altering memories: This action is the easiest to do. With this action, the user is able to change a specific part of a pre-existing memory. Example: They could cause you to remember leaving your keys on your desk, when you actually took them with you. Moving memories: This action makes the user practically able to delete a memory by moving it from someone's mind to his own, or from his mind to someone else's. Adding memories: This action takes the longest to perform. With this, the user can give someone a completely new memory, even if it's something that never happened. To do this, the user requires a lot of concentration, as they have to clearly invision all that happens in the memory. If their mind is not clear enough while invisioning the new memory, it may seem distorted.

Personal questions:

Is he more optimistic or pessimistic? Optimistic Is he more introverted or extroverted? Extroverted What bad habits does he have? "I have no bad habits." He can't sit normally in chairs. He chews with his mouth open (he blames the fangs). He jaywalks. Doesn't like listening to authority How does he display affection? He loves physical touch, and will sometimes purposefully touch people he likes with his tail How does he want to be seen by others? He wants to be seen as the cool older brother figure to Class 1A How does he see himself? He sees himself as a valuable member of his class How do others see him? His closest friends see him as a brother, while others see him as a rebellious teenager who's always getting into trouble How does he react to praise? With open arms How does he react to criticism? In the moment, he acts like he doesn't care and like he doesn't listen, but later, he finds himself thinking over it deeper and trying to subtly improve What is his greatest fear? "Nothing." Being forgotten What are his phobias? Enclosed spaces, mice/rats Favourite animal? Dogs. Specifically German Shepherds because of how fierce and protective they can be (And that he thinks guard dogs are fucking awesome) Favourite colour? Yellow More often than not, what is his password? "Nice try. I ain't telling that." It's usually 1234567896 "Hey! >:(" What would he dress up as for Halloween? One of those big enflatable costumes like a dinosaur or a rubber duck What would he ask a fortune teller? "Hmmm, I don't trust it. If you are so smart, how many fingers are behind my back right now?" What sport is he good at? Basketball What sport is he bad at? Golf. He has something personal against golf and anyone who plays it

Kyomu is, design-wise, basically just a compilation of physical traits that I am either bad at, or want to improve on. I'm not good at drawing men. I'm not good at drawing hands, and his quirk involves using his hands. I want to get better at drawing different perspectives of asymmetrical objects, so I gave him an asymmetrical tail. I'd like to improve at drawing anthro legs. I want some experience with drawing fangs. I'm not good at drawing updo hairstyles

Feel free to ask more questions about him in my inbox. I'm always looking to add to characters :)

[ai-the-broccoli]

I DIDN'T NOTICE YOU RB'D THE DEATH NOTE ASK MEME uhhh. 23 and 24 maybe?

ooooh thanks!!!

23. what was your favorite moment and why?

"oooh that's a very hard question" ...is what I might've said, if this wasn't the light yagami animanga series and light yagami makes me insane. uhhh. I do have several though, if that's allowed.

(update: when I said "several" I meant uh. a lot apparently. whoops)

favourite line / favourite moment in a "holy wow this is amazing thematically": the. y'know. "Tell me, Light, from the moment you were born, have you ever told the truth?" line in the anime rain scene. yeah. holy fuck that is amazing because I LOVE that sort of thing. as far as character traits go, there's like nothing I love more than characters that are liars who lie lyingly (multiple types of this apply). it's truly, truly the best.

favourite moments based on what I repeatedly rewatched immediately following my first watch of the anime: there are, uh. three (in no particular order)

light goes home from the entrance ceremony, incredibly stone-faced (like 😐) the entire way -> gets home, gets up the stairs, opens the door, shuts the door, sits down on his chair, suddenly starts shaking -> blows up "Dammit! He got me! Damn L! I have never been so humiliated in my life!" (even Ryuk comments internally that he's never seen him lose his composure so much) -> suddenly laughs and calms down talking about how it's a battle of wits now and he'll make L trust him and kill him, with his own hands if necessary. i rewatched this several times in a row which was definitely very normal of me.

look at him. grumpy but in like an extremely restrained way (his face is even hidden). until it breaks completely in the next page lol

the last episode. light trying so hard not to laugh/smirk in the warehouse, then he reveals himself as kira (a lot of laughing), and he loses and falls pathetically, shouting for kiyomi and mikami and misa after matsuda shoots him, and then runs in the beautiful sunset, passing his younger high school self by, and seeing a vision of L before he dies on the stairs. all this is great and i did an immediate rewatch of this episode after finishing it

the Relight scene where Light laughs on top of L's grave soil. it's conceptually fucked up in an amazing way that really really appeals to me. murder and grave desecration are really romantic/beautiful/erotic on principle.

as you can see I am very normal. as you can see I am a very normal Light Yagami fan. one of those two statements may be unironically true, but the two statements inherently cannot go together. anyway this particular selection of scenes totally doesn't actually say anything about me right but anyway I'm right those are totally the best please torture light some more everyone

favourite moments I didn't immediately repeatedly rewatch/reread like that but are still my absolute top favourites:

The entire first episode because DAMN did it hook me completely very, very fast. I did NOT know there was going to be Faustian contract + god complex&general big ego + everything else in one in this little and very infamous character known as "Light Yagami". my expectations were blown instantly and I got obsessed with DN right away

L and Light declaring war on each other over the live broadcast and L asking and taunting Light/Kira to kill him. amazing. it was really... gay. sorry I can't think of a better word lmfao

L's death scene oh my god. GOD I loved (and was really really amazed/impressed by by) Light rushing to him at once and basically lying on top of him for a second, so that he will die in his arms. GOD. it is SO. like yeah this is literally my favourite sort of thing holy shit it is amazing (it's to gloat to him and to declare victory before his death, and it's to pretend to the Task Force too, and yet it seemed like such an instinctual reaction really that I think his first instinct really IS to hold him in his arms before he dies. this is really good). and the dramatic performance afterwards. I love it

on a COMPLETELY different note. JESUS CHRIST I love Soichiro's death scene actually. because holy fuck the multi-layered irony. I really love it. actually I think I wrote about that scene long before I even really wrote anything else about DN. alright here:

idk if I still 100% agree with my initial impression but it should still overall hold and MAN. I definitely loved it (<- fan of irony) (<- extremely, extremely normal Light Yagami fan) (<- fan of Soichiro also, to a lesser extent)

favourite moment that gave me a lot of thoughts when I'm reading the manga: (even though I already first watched the anime and this stuff is also in the anime)

the moment where Rem is like "okay I will kill L" and Light, person who has been plotting this exact murder for ages, is like. Oh shit. he'll die...? which is. man. Light sure is Light

like look at his face here!

favourite manga-exclusive moments:

Light not considering killing Sayu. Light asking Soichiro to promise him to come back alive with Sayu. that scene afterwards where Soichiro is at home thinking he should die. (at least I think those weren't in the anime?)

the manga ending is also good

I like that the manga tells us he lost weight and has nightmares due to using the death note. (it possibly has happened to anime light too but we don't get to see it)

not a "favorite moment" exactly, but while the scene is beautiful I don't like Misa dying in the end despite how much I adore everything else in that episode, so I like that Misa doesn't canonically die like that in the manga

favourite anime-exclusive moments:

rain scene and footwashing scene yes obviously

everything about Light being "haunted" after L's death. aside from the aforementioned Light dying scene, I really like the anime

I love the anime ending too

also hmm this might be a less popular opinion, but personally I also love some of anime Light's characterization tidbits that differs from the manga (e.g. first episode). I would say it's because it's maybe very slightly more relatable for me but that probably sounds wack lmao so

favourite moments based on how comedic I find them: (not including ones I already included in other sections) DN is such an amazing comedy I'm not even kidding

the whole handcuffs thing oh my god. homophobic misa moment. I didn't think she'd actually call him gay, but there it was. also just fken. buddy. L??????? why and how and in what world was there an absolute need for this totally normal, totally appropriate, absolutely most safe and most ideal method of interrogating criminals. I was laughing because god. that's not even. yeah okay I'm happy with it but LMFAO YOU CAN'T BE SERIOUS. and Light just easily went along with it

the... the... first date scene. I was like oh my god c'MON you two. I didn't think something like this would be so like this in the actual canon manga. first date where Misa is being thirdwheeled while Light and L sit together chained together and then they focus all energy on talking to each other and then they get into a fist fight (date activity) all over the room. combined with the later dunking on matsuda. this is LITERALLY how a fucking sitcom goes at this point.

the anime's footwashing also. not the scene itself necessarily but just the fact that it fucking exists between lawlight and is. Like THAT????? lmfao like what the hell

ALSO the. fken. Matsuda fake death scene lmfao it was so wack in retrospect

live Ryuk reactions + "hey Light can we play Mario Golf? can we play Mario Golf Light? come on let's play a match of Mario Golf"

man I can't even include all of it here because Light Yagami is so entertaining to me in 85%+ of all the scenes she appears in in one way or another like his existence itself is peak entertainment to me. it's entertaining when Light is humiliated and it's entertaining when he's succeeding. and like I mean, he's the protagonist of the whole manga / show, and I mean I can't list every moment in the series can I. lmao

favourite moments that don't have light yagami in it: I'm sorry everyone else but I am especially obsessed with light. as you can see. however I love many other characters too

Kiyomisa dinner kiyomisa fighting !!!

(technically this includes light but) matsuda shooting light

misa being unexpectedly smart (compared to her wider reputation) (the higuchi car scene! and others) is also nice

idk if it makes sense but. the scene where Rem and Misa mention the way a Shinigami can die, and Misa admits to thinking about killing Rem like it's. just very Neat. I like the vibes here and Misa is very beautiful (related to the dialogue about love and killing. yeah)

also!! I love the meronia moments

and then I recently got myself into soichello so actually yeah. the soichiro mello scenes too. very good

24. any headcanons you want to share?

uhhhhhhhhhhh hmmm. man what's a headcanon I haven't properly shared on tumblr before, and also isn't like a take that is shared and often discussed by tons of people around here already?

... fine okay let's do this finally.

neurodivergence + mental illnesses headcanons

[disclaimer: please read this post first. if you disagree, you can skip over this and skip to the next section!]

aside from OCD and autism, imo Light has NPD with some ASPD traits, and also bipolar. this is because the way his mental illnesses are is like. I feel represented lol. (not as in I have every one of those things I listed, but I probably have some/most of them, and the combinations are interesting). even though this is unfortunately Light Yagami. but I really like him for that too tbh because man. I don't get to see that stuff often. (like idk how to explain it. even though I'd never even remotely pull that kinda stuff because of differences in personalities, values, background, abilities, and manifestation and degree of symptoms, etc. however some of his mannerisms sometimes feel right on point e.g. I feel like the way he is like sometimes gives me depression + hypomanic/manic vibes, in a way where I can see myself in him if it makes sense lmao)

on that note Misa 100% very BPD I agree. I wanna say on top of autism, L also seems to have some ASPD traits imo. Near is autistic but I think that goes without saying lol. Mello has like... C-PTSD and/or NPD. and then this probably not a very unexpected take, but Matsuda has ADHD or audhd vibes. OH and! Soichiro also very much has OCD and autism, imo.

other headcanons:

not a hot take, but Mello and Near are both nonbinary and/or genderqueer (and/or otherwise trans, if not applicable) to me (could be transmasc or transfem, not necessarily transneutral; I could see either or any direction among those, although I would say I lean toward seeing Near as transfem and/or nonbinary, and Mello as transmasc and/or genderqueer).

Light is demi, and has had a covert superiority complex about not feeling attraction unlike his peers (like. you can view him deciding to use porn mag reading to prove himself as a normal teenage boy as indicative of his subconscious? mental association of his more "normal" peers as, like.... unfortunate horny perverts. in a way. if that makes sense) I know how it feels because I was kinda like this in grade 6-8

man I definitely have other ideas too but I'm drawing a blank at the moment partly because it's late and I still haven't eaten lunch lmao. I will continue to post my thoughts and headcanons in the future, so tune in by clicking on the subscribe butto- *gets shot*

ask game