#mentions of self serving tendencies

[aventurineswife]

could i please request sampo and you choose who else with a dog and human hybrid reader that lives with the character? the reader would have stuff like a cage, squeaky toys, and can the fic just explore what it's like domestically for a night with the character?

The Price of Loyalty

Tags: Aventurine x Reader, Sampo x Reader, Dog-Human hybrid!Reader, Fluff, Domestic Fluff, Playful Interaction, Humor, Emotional Depth, Found Family, Gentle Themes, Teasing and Banter, Companion Bond.

Warnings: Light manipulation, Minor suggestive language, Emotional depth (brief glimpses into Sampo and Aventurine’s vulnerabilities), Mentions of past trauma, Mentions of self-serving tendencies.

A/N: Damn I'm getting a lot of sampo reqs lately🫣

It had been a long day filled with the usual mischief and deals, but tonight was different. Sampo had returned to his quarters, exhausted but still smiling that signature grin of his. His place was cozy, if not a little cluttered with trinkets and oddities collected from both the Overworld and the Underworld. You, his dog-human hybrid companion, greeted him at the door with an enthusiastic tail wag and a playful bark.

Sampo laughed softly, ruffling your hair as you jumped excitedly. "Well, well, if it isn’t my favorite little troublemaker," he teased, his voice smooth and full of affection. "You’ve been a good one today, haven’t you?"

You barked in response, spinning in a circle as he set his jacket down. There was a familiar jingle as your squeaky toy caught his eye, lying on the floor just beside your small cage—your space, your sanctuary. Sampo had always made sure you had a place to call your own, even though you often preferred to curl up at his feet while he worked.

He flopped onto the couch with a sigh, watching you eagerly as you brought the squeaky toy to him, offering it up like a gift. Sampo smirked, taking the toy and giving it a small squeeze. The squeaking noise filled the room, causing you to jump and bark with delight.

"You always know how to make a man smile, don't you?" he said, his tone light, but there was a subtle warmth behind it.

Despite your playful nature, you could tell Sampo’s mind was still buzzing with his latest dealings. He often hid his true feelings, but you knew him well enough by now to sense when he was burdened by something. You gave him a gentle nudge with your head, your eyes full of concern.

Sampo chuckled softly and leaned back against the couch, resting his hand on your head. "Don’t worry about me, little one. I’m always one step ahead," he reassured, though you didn’t quite buy it.

Later that evening, he threw a blanket over the two of you, as you curled up next to him. Your cage remained open, but it was clear you preferred this quiet moment, lying beside him. Sampo smirked, his usual sly grin softened by the comfort of your company. "You know, sometimes I think you’re the one keeping me grounded," he murmured, though his words were almost too quiet to hear over the sound of your contented breathing.

Aventurine was not the type to show weakness, but there was something about you—a human-dog hybrid—that brought out a gentler side of him. His evening began as it always did, with a reflection on his strategic decisions and the game he was playing with the universe. However, tonight was different. He had a rare quiet moment to himself, with you curled up at his feet as he relaxed on his chaise lounge, the flickering of candlelight casting long shadows in the room.

You had a way of making the atmosphere feel less tense, your presence offering a comfort he hadn’t realized he needed. Every now and then, you’d let out a small whimper, nudging his hand with your snout. Aventurine smirked, adjusting his blazer, before leaning down to pet you, fingers running through your fur with practiced care. "A little restless tonight, are we?" he mused.

You responded with a soft whine, your tail wagging slightly as you brought a squeaky toy to his feet. Aventurine raised an eyebrow, intrigued but not particularly surprised by your antics. "I suppose you’re in the mood for some amusement, then," he chuckled, the glint in his eyes never faltering.

As he squeezed the toy, the squeak echoed through the room, and you immediately pounced, trying to catch it with the speed of a predator, your eyes glowing with playful determination. His soft laughter was a rare sound—something that came not from manipulation or strategic amusement but genuine enjoyment. "Such energy," he remarked, shaking his head with a smile that never reached his eyes. "You’re a handful, you know that?"

Later, as the evening deepened, Aventurine reclined on his chair, hands behind his head. You, having tired yourself out from your playful antics, curled up at his feet, letting out a soft sigh as you made yourself comfortable. He glanced down at you, his expression shifting slightly.

"Sometimes I forget how simple life can be," he muttered, almost to himself. His fingers brushed against the delicate band of his wrist, his thoughts drifting before returning to you, curled so contentedly by his side. "You always know how to make the chaos of the world feel far less… chaotic."

Aventurine stretched, standing up to gaze out the window for a moment, and when he turned back, his gaze softened, the ruthless strategist giving way to something gentler, a hint of fondness in his eyes. "Don’t get too comfortable," he added, his tone laced with teasing, "but I suppose I’ll allow you this one night of peace."

The night passed quietly, with you curled up by his feet, and Aventurine content in the subtle companionship you offered. For once, the world outside seemed far less important, and the games of life seemed a little easier to bear with your presence.

[my-acotar-thoughts]

Amarantha and Feyre…

I feel like after book 1, Feyre becomes an extension of Amarantha. I’ve probably mentioned this before but when I look at A Court of Thorns and Roses as a retelling of Beauty and the Beast, Amarantha magically curses Tamlin and his court. There’s the classic time limit, the need for true love, the witty side characters helping things along, and even a dance scene.

But…

I think aesthetically, the curse continues through Feyre. When she goes back to the Spring Court in book 3, she destroys it. The Spring Court is now in ruins while in book 1 under the curse, it was still vibrant and beautiful. Tamlin is now in his beast form, just like the prince is stuck in beast form. Book 1 Tamlin still had hope, still had love. He was angry at his situation but he wasn’t beastly, he was charming and awkward and sweet. Now, Tamlin is broken, jaded, hurt.

Continuing why I think Feyre is an extension of Amarantha now. Amarantha modeled Under the Mountain after Hewn City. She ruled over it with fear and bloodshed. Despite the horrors Feyre experienced UtM, she somehow is okay with the existence of Hewn City. It’s the OG UtM and yet Feyre will proudly sit with Rhysand as citizens suffer. She’ll tell these people that they have enough when they are literally trapped in a mountain. She’ll mimic Mor and wear skimpy outfits to Hewn City as a person “F U”. I will never understand how Feyre could sit on that throne and allow people to suffer like this when she’s experienced that suffering first hand with Amarantha.

Feyre was always morally grey in book 1 to me. She had a very self-serving mindset when she and Tamlin talked about their moral ideals. While he would always fight tyranny, she would fight for the side that kept her and her interests safe. After becoming fae, those selfish, arrogant tendencies amplified. Especially with Rhysand’s encouragement. And she actively doesn’t want to face consequences for her actions. If she’s told she’s done something bad, she’ll turn it out just like she did when faced with the reality of the Spring Court’s destruction.

The only difference is Amarantha actually held the power herself. Feyre, on the other hand, has the illusion of power. The Night Court belongs to Rhysand. Her title of High Lady is an honorary gift bestowed upon her by a man, not the magic of the land. Rhysand’s inner circle will always look to Rhysand’s orders, not hers, and will put Rhysand’s interests first. But even with the lack of true power, Feyre has become a watered down version of the villain she fought to defeat.

[thehighpriestess1]

Make A Wish Chapter 1 : The Bet

Warning: Self harm tendencies mentioned. Dark themes. 

Genre: Angst

Pairing: Gojo x y/n

a/n: Hi! I hope you all missed me as much as I missed you. This is my first work in a long long long time so forgive me, I am a bit out of practice. I hope you like this. Leave a comment if you want to join the taglist.

30th July 2024, 12:30 AM

The neon blue lights of the club gave a grim hue to the streets. You heels barely on your feet anymore tried their best to carry you from one club to the other. You frazzled hair welcomed the gush of the wind. You took a deep breath, filling up your lungs with the cold night air. Was it even night anymore? You looked up at the sky and chuckled. What a beautiful night this was. After weeks of downpour you could finally see the clear sky. A group of boys ran past you and you almost fell but regained your balance at the last second. 

If anyone were to make a judgement on you they would probably think you are high society women drinking her sorrows away. Some would even try to get close to you to gain a few favours. But little did they know, you had nothing to offer. 

With shaking legs you made your way from one bar to the other. Some didn’t let you enter and those that were allowed were filled with men trying to get into your pants. Maybe if you were a different person you would have found a handsome man and gone home with it. You were not judgemental that way. But you had no heart or soul left to care for anything. You had things to do tonight..or tomorrow morning. Does time even matter now? You reeked of not yours but perfumes of men you had been dancing with for the past 3 hours. 

What brought you here? Heartbreak? Or did you just want the courage to do one last thing right. Having a nice quiet night at home was a suitable option but a part of you feared that you might enjoy your time at home and change your mind. You were on a mission. So you bought a new dress, wore all of your best jewelry, carried your most expensive purse and walked out. 

Now as you stood outside of your 7th bar of the night you could barely see anything. You sniffled and wiped your mascara stained tears. Every place was the same. Crowded, sweaty, and filled with men making empty promises.

Your phone buzzed in your purse. You groaned and took it out, the screed displayed Shoko’s name and a selfie you took with her many moons ago and it made you want to throw up. You cut the call and saw a storm of texts coming from Shoko and Geto. Swiping right on one the texts you opened the chat but could barely read any message. 

Gojo…help…call.. What? Were they still worried more about him?! Him?! They were worried about the one with everything in the world?! You didn’t expect this from Shoko. Even if she had to pick a side, why couldn’t it be yours? Why can’t anyone ever look at you?! You had feelings too! Your lips quivered as you tried to stop yourself from breaking down in the middle of the road. You scrolled through the text..Gojo..find..please

Please….call…

The letter moved in and out of focus and you tried your best to string the words together to just see the three words you had been begging to hear from your friends. How are you? 

Your phone buzzed in your hand but it was Geto calling. You scoffed and cut the call. There was no way you were going to pick up his call. 

You needed to forget everyone. Especially the three of them. You were a fool to think they would ever be on your side. They were thick as thieves. Friends since they were one and you..you were just a cog in the system. Put in place to help them…no.. To serve them..a toy to entertain them. You took a deep breath and walked to your next stop. 

Loud music filled the alley as you looked for the next bar that would let you drink your sorrows away preferably quietly.You didn’t have it in you to stand in queues or flirt with the bouncer .A loud neon pink light snapped you out of your pity party for one. As you looked up, you saw a large neon pink sign, Fate. You had never seen this bar before and there was no queue or bounce so you stepped inside anyway. 

Contrary to the modern sign outside, the bar had an old parlour aesthetic. Leather couches were sprawled in the sets of two and a heavy oak round table sat in between them.Two men sat in a corner silently as they sipped their beer. A woman sat alone on a velvet chair to  your right drinking a shimmery cocktail and talking to herself. The circular bar counter in the center had a halo like effect, beckoning you to have another sip. The bartender was already looking at you with a welcoming smile like one offers to an expected guest. 

“Welcome!”. He called from a distance. 

You walked to the bar counter and sat on one of the velvet bar stools. “Hi, can I see your menu?”. You tried your best to appear sober. You can’t afford to get kicked out of yet another bar now.

“How about I suggest you a drink you really need…y/n?”

“Huh?” Did he just say your name or was it your mind playing tricks again? Must be the alcohol from hours of drinking. “Ummm..yeah sure”.

The man placed a glass of clear liquid in front of you.

“What’s this?” 

The bartender chuckled. “Water”. It’s bar policy to make sure that customers are hydrated, You see our drinks are quite strong”

You looked up from your glass of water to the bartender. He was handsome with a sharp jaw and high cheekbones. His doe-like eyes had a spark to them, like it held all the stars of the galaxy. His dark brown hair stood perfectly. His clean vest and crisp white shirt fitted his toned body quite well. His kind smile made you relax in your barstool. 

As you sipped the water you felt your body getting lighter. “Wow..thank you..I needed that”.

The man chuckled. 

“Not that I am drunk…but hydration is good”.

“It is, isn’t it. It’s sad how we forget to take care of ourselves. We don’t need to have a perfect life to take care of ourselves, do we?” He smiled again. 

“This place is quite..” You looked around at the largely empty bar. “...vacant”.

“Oh it’s an exclusive bar you see”. He said nonchalantly as he shook the tumblr in his hand.”Only those you need it can visit”. 

You frowned at him,”I..what?”.

The man chuckled again. “I said our aesthetic doesn't resonate with everyone”.

“oh…I see”. 

“Maybe you can help us. You work in marketing right?”. 

“Yeah..I used to..wait how do you..?”. 

“You told me a few seconds ago”. He said as he poured the drink into a goblet like glass.

“Did I?” You smiled nervously. “But yeah…I used to..I..”

“Got fired?”. He placed the drink on a metal coaster in front of you. 

You stared blankly at him. Maybe you had too much for today. “Yeah…Thank you”. You stared at the drink, it was pink like the sign outside with a hint of golden glitter. “This looks quite pretty”. You smiled widely and took your phone out and quickly took a photo. “What is it called?”

The bartender placed both of his palms flatly on the glass counter and leaned closer and looked at you, “it’s called a second chance”.

Another flirt, you thought to yourself. “Why is it called so?”

“You will find out soon”. He winked and turned away to work on the other side of the bar. 

You sipped your drink and realized that a faint song was playing in the bar that you didn’t hear when you walked in. The song grew louder but just enough so you can hear the lyrics. You were not sure you had heard it before. Change the prophecy…redo the prophecy…cards on the table

You sipped the drink and suddenly had a deep urge to redo everything. God if you could redo everything you would not make the same mistakes again. This wasn’t anger or vengeance. It was a desperate cry for help. Your head spun as the liquor trickled down your throat. The urge grew stronger with each sip.

1st June 2024 1:00 AM

“Hello”.

Hearing your mom's voice on the other end of the line made you choke up. “He..Hello..mom?”

“Y/n?”

You pressed your lips as you knew where the conversation would go but your heart wanted to try one more time. Hoping that she would remember that you were her daughter after all.

“I..I left him”. Your words came out in broken sobs. 

The silence made your heart tighten. 

“Why?”. Your mom asked sternly.

“I..I can’t do it anymore. I tried mom. I real-”

“Well you didn’t try hard enough. Relationships are hard. It needs work. You can’t just give up every time you have a fight”.

All the bottled up emotions came out as loud sobs escaped your lips. Snot and tears mixed and rolled down your chin. Your eyes burnt from hours of crying. “But mo-”.

“You know how much he has done for our family don’t you? If it wasn’t for him your brother would still be unemployed! God y/n….”

“Please..just..I will take care of you and Ren..I ca-”

“No! I..you need to grow up y/n. I..I have always supported you. But please..for the sake of our family..you need to work on it”.

You were speechless. This wasn’t the first sob filled cry for help. It wasn’t 10th either. You didn’t know whether your mother was just sick of your sob story or she loved his acts of kindness more than she loved her own daughter. Even if you wanted to, you couldn’t deny how much he has done for your family. But you could not ignore what he was doing to you either. You knew you could never match up to you everything he had done but that didn’t merit your sad obedience to him. 

“Hello? y/n?”. Your mother called out.

“I..”. You wiped your tears away and took a deep breath. “..you know what he has done”.

You mom stayed silent for a few seconds and you hoped that just for a second she would pity you.

“So what? Men are stupid. They make mistakes. Even your dad-”.

“Do not compare him to dad! He is nothing like him! Dad cared enough to change! He doesn’t! Oh god! I..I can’t..mom I am sorry…I can’t..I can’t take this anymore. Please…just..help m-”

“Do what you want y/n. Just remember that if it wasn’t for him, we wouldn’t have any of this. He is your-”.

“Don’t say it”. You cut her off staring at the ring on your hand. What a joke. “If I stay with him for another day it would kill me..I might ki-”

“Do whatever you want then!”. She yelled from the other end. “I would rather have no daughter than have an ungrateful daughter like you!”. 

Those were the last words she said to you.

You held the phone in your hand and sat staring blankly at the wall. When a fierce thunder lit up the dark room you caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. You looked no different from a zombie with hair frizzy and falling over your shoulder in knots, eyes red and swollen, skin red and lifeless. You had been wearing the same t-shirt for over a week now. Is this life even worth living? 

Your phone buzzed and Shoko’s text flashed on the screen,

Shoko: You are taking things out of context. You should hear him out.

Shoko: I will support you in whatever decision you take. But you need to talk to him once.

Shoko: It was all planned by Mishki. 

All the texts were about him. Everyone wanted him. Everyone was charmed by him. No one cared about what you wanted or how you were doing. You had no one. No one would miss you if you were gone. 

You looked at the calendar hanging on the wall. 2 months until your birthday. What a nice way to go..on your birthday…

“Excuse me?”You called out to the bartender. “Can I get another drink?”.

The man walked over to you and took your glass away. “Sorry, only one drink per person”. He smiled.

“Wh-”

“It’s time for you to step out y/n”.

You gulped harshly. Maybe you made a fool of yourself again, it wasn’t the first or the third time. Same story every night. “How much do I owe you?”. You asked as you shot an apologetic smile.

“You can give whatever you want”. 

So it was one of those places where customers decided the price. You took the Amex card out and stared at it for a second,hoping that the payment goes through, before sliding it across the table. 

“We don’t take cards, sorry”. 

You rummaged through your purse to look for cash but had none. “I am sorry I don’t have cash”. 

“We take payments in every form”.

You were taken aback with this comment. Swate beads formed on your forehead as you realized what the situation was.

The man laughed heartily. “I mean the bracelet on your wrist looks pretty good as a payment”.

You looked down at  your wrist. You had worn all three cartier love bracelets that he had gifted you. Even the just un clou and love rings. You didn’t know why you were wearing them all at once. Should you even have it with you? Each piece of jewelry brought back bittersweet memories. One by one you took out all your jewellery and the watch and placed it on the counter. The counter was now littered with earrings, necklace, bracelets, rings, and a watch. All gifted by him. “There you go”. 

“Are you sure you will not miss these? They seem sentimental”

You stared at the bundle and shook your head. 1st bracelet for when you caught him in the parking lot, rings for when he stood you up on numerous dates, necklace for when you caught him at his grandfather’s funeral, and the watch for when he didn’t show up for your grandfather's funeral. It was time to let go of these. “Please keep all of this”.

“By the way y/n..”. 

You looked up, sweeping your hair to one side, “Yes?”

“Happy BIrthday”.

“Thank You”. You smiled sadly and hopped off the barstool. 

“I will see you again”. 

“I doubt so. Thank you once again”

You grabbed your purse and made your way to the door. Right above the door was a sign etched in golden on dark wood. Fata Viam Invenient. 

A cold gust of wind blew your hair and welcomed you when you stepped outside. You didn’t want to go home just yet and all the bars where you were not banned were shutting down now. You wanted a few more hours out of life.  Your phone buzzed once more but you didn’t bother checking it this time. You looked down at the black mini kelly and held it in your hand like a mother nursing a child, another gift from him for forgetting your birthday. Last of the painful gifts. You wanted to throw it away but a part of you wanted to hold onto it. To remind yourself that he was real. That all of it happened. It wasn’t a nightmare. It was a glorious war that you lost. But god you fought it bravely and gave it your all. 

Someone coughed loudly, snapping you out of your fantasies.On your right you saw a homeless man shivering in the cold, black soot marks littered over his face, salt and pepper hair matted to his head.He was slouching against the concrete wall of the bar .Was it winter already? Alcohol coursed through your veins and a smile grazed your lips as you found your companion for the night. You stumbled and made your way to the man and sat next to him and lit the last cigarette in your 20 pack box. He gave you a sympathetic look. 

“You alright, miss?”. He asked kindly.

You chuckled, “Are you in a position to ask me how I am doing?”. Taking a long drag you rested your head against the concrete wall. 

The man looked down and saw the red scars on your knees. “All I can offer is kindness”. He said softly.

Kindness. A concept foreign to you. “Kindness..” You rolled the word on your tongue. “....thank you..for your kindness”, you said wiping another tear.

“Heartbreak?” The man asked.

You smiled. “I….maybe..yes”.

“Who is the man…”. The man pulled his coat closer as another gust of wind swept the alley. An empty beer clanked and rolled to your feet. 

“He is..a myth….he is not real..not anymore..”. You took out your Burberry scarf and wrapped it around the man’s neck. “Take this..”.

The man rubbed the material between his fingers and gave you a questioning look. “This is real. This must be quite expensive”.

You smiled, “Keep it, I don’t want it”.

“That man must be stupid to let go of a woman like you”.

“Trust me I am not that kind..”. Your cigarette was on its last few drags and it bummed you. “Do you want to eat something?”

The man nodded. 

“Gottit! Let’s order some food!” You took your phone out and began scrolling through restaurants on Ubereats. “Aha!”. With a childish smile you placed your order.

“What’s your name?”. The man asked. 

You looked at him but he looked slightly different now. His face seemed clearer. You shrugged it to the effects of alcohol wearing out. “Y/n..what’s yours?”.

“Yojutsusha” The man smiled.

“Interesting name”

You sat in silence for a while watching drunk salary men puking in the corner, Men carrying drunk women out, some waiting for a cab, friends laughing loudly, everyone had a reason to be here..except you.

You tried to recall how this night started. But it didn’t matter. This was your night time routine. While most people preferred serums, moisturiser, calming music, or tea..you preferred the bitter taste of alcohol and stumbling from one bar to another. Drinking with strangers every night. But in every strange face you saw glimpses on him. Some had the same nose, some had the same lips, but no one was wholly him. The thought of him made your heart ache. You ruined everything. You could have had a good life, a job, a loving partner, a friend..but here you were, drunk, lost, sitting in a dingy alley waiting for your food. 

A delivery man on his scooter stopped in front of you and looked around with a Ubereats bag in his hand. You snapped out of your thoughts and raised your hand, “Oi! Here! Delivery for y/n?”.

The delivery man looked apprehensive but shyly walked over to you, “Y/n?”

“That’s me!”. You smiled and extended your hand towards him.

The man seemed unsure as he looked over to the homeless man next to you. He wanted to question you more but also wanted to get out of here as soon as possible so he handed you the paper bag.

“Dinner’s ready!”. You slurred and took out two bags of french fries, fried chicken, and two diet coke. “Here, have this”. You passed a portion to the homeless man. 

The silence between the two of you was comfortable. Neither of you said a word but occasionally you felt the man looking at you. Maybe he pitied you.

“I don’t pity you”. The man chuckled. 

You laughed with your mouth half filled with food. “Sorry..I was just thinking out loud I guess”. The warm food and his company brought you comfort. For the first time in the last 6 months you felt okay. You had a strange feeling in your heart, you were ready to give it all up. Nothing mattered anymore. You have lived your life. You touched the sun and now your wax wings were burning. The pain was your price to pay for dreaming of the glowing sun. If you fall, so be it. It was worth it. Years of pain, guilt, heart break, loss…all worth it. You had touched the sun. 

“Would you like to play a game?”. The man asked, wiping his mouth. 

“What kind of game?”. You asked.

“A bet”. He smiled with his mischievous eyes.

30th July, 2024 12:00 AM

Gojo paced frantically around your living room. He kept on checking his phone every few steps. Hoping to get some updates from you. “Did she answer your call?” He asked Shoko for the 100th time.

“No. But she read the messages just now”. She said, wiping her tears. She looked at her phone in one hand and your letter in another. What if it was too late? What if they were too late?

“That’s a relief. I am getting my men to track her phone down!”. He sat down next to her and hysterically typed instructions to his men who were in a van outside the building praying that they track you down. Their life depended on it. 

How did it all come to this? Gojo questioned everything. Few hours ago he was on his way to your home with a bouquet of flowers and a cake and now the flowers are dead and the cake box is on the floor. He remembered looking all over the apartment for you but all he found was the letter on the kitchen counter. Gojo didn’t believe it at first. But once he looked at the empty fridge, wiped out the closet, and an almost empty house, he knew…He fucked up. He realized everything too late..and now he might lose you forever. All because of his selfish pride and ego. If he could, he would kill himself over and over again before letting anything happen to you. He would take his heart out and stab it thousand times over to feel the pain he has caused you. Did he even deserve you? How could he be so blind?

“Please…god please..”. He begged no one in particular. 

Shoko sat frozen next to him and clenched the letter in her hand. She was the person Gojo called, hoping that she would know something. If she was being honest and had any will to talk she would admit that she was surprised when Gojo called her. She was surprised that Gojo cared at all. “Why did you come here?”. She asked.

“I..I don’t know. I just wanted to talk to-”.

“You turned everyone against her didn’t you?”

Gojo remained silent. He was guilty. But he wanted to make things right now. 

Shoko took a deep breath and continued, “You turned me against her. You told me that she tried to sleep with Geto. Was any of it true?”. Her heart beat loudly against her chest. She didn’t know whether she wanted it to be true or not. Either way she would not be able to live with herself.

“No”. 

Shoko broke down. She howled like a mad woman as she hit Gojo with her fists. “Why?! Why?! Why?! You are a monster! A fucking monster! You were my friend!”.

Gojo tried to hold her down to calm her and one of her fists landed on his nose. 

An eerie silence filled the house as a trickle of blood dripped down his nose. “I deserve it”. He said. “I ..I can’t explain right now…”.

“Try!”.

“I didn’t want to lose her. I did horrible things! I know! But I didn’t want to lose her! She..”, Gojo gulped harshly.”..she would have left me if she had you..or anyone…I couldn’t let that happen..I know I got selfish and made some bad decisions but I..I love her. I love her. I..love her.”.

Shoko stayed silent for a while. She had known Gojo and Geto since she was one. She trusted them. But you were her best friend. You were the friend she needed but never had.  

“If we find her, I will talk to her and I don’t want you to be near her ever again”.

“I..can’t let that happen”. Gojo said coldly. 

“Why Satoru? Why do you want to make her life a living hell again? There is nothing in the letter that mentions you. So you..and your empire are safe! Just do me the favour of finding her and leave!”. 

“Stay here until I get back”, Gojo couldn’t sit here and do nothing. He needed to find you before it got too late so he picked up his car keys and left.

30th July 2022 10:00 PM

Gojo groaned as his phone rang once again. He didn’t need to look who was calling him. He knew it was you. 

“Shouldn’t you pick it up?”. Mishki said as she sipped her red wine and looked a thim through her lashes. 

“It’s nothing important”.

“What if it’s your..fiance?”. 

Gojo let out a tired sigh and chuckled defeatedly. “You got me. It is her”.

Mishki raised a brow prompting him to go on. 

“She is probably calling to check where I am, what am I doing, When will I see her, ugh…it’s never ending…and she is not my fiance".

"Oh but that's not what I have heard"

Gojo smiled charmingly, "Do you know how many women in the city claim to me by girlfriends?"

“I see. Interesting relations you have..Satoru. I hope I can call you that”.

“You can call me anything you want. Shall we discuss our deal now?”. 

.

.

.

Back at home you sat on the couch with your face in your hands. Tear drops rolled down your chin onto the cake that had been sitting out for 3 hours. You knew Gojo was a busy man so you didn't expect him to do much but picking up your call on your birthday was the bare minimum you expected.

On clue, 5 minutes before the clock struck 12 Gojo walked through your living room door and rolled his eyes when he sae your puffy eyes and tired face. "oh come on now!".

"Where were you?", you got up and made your way towards him. "I have been calling you for-"

"For the past 3 hours? I know! Can't you get a hint?"

"Satoru..it's..".

"It's what y/n?! How many times have I told you to not disturb me when I am in a meeting? Don't you get it by now that I am a busy man! I don't have time to play house with you!"

"It's my birthday for fuck's sake!". You screamed.

Gojo was taken aback by your outburst. "So? I work on my Birthday! What is so special about birthdays anyway?!"

You stared at him blankly. "I..I just wanted to have dinner with you on my birthday. It is special to me".

"Why didn't you call Shoko then huh?".

"I did but..but she said she was busy".

Gojo scoffed, drawing the dagger deeper in your heart. "See, not everyone has the free time to sit and celebrate like kids. You need to grow up". He walked over to you and took you in his arms, "Look y/n, you know that everything I do, I do it for us right? So please be on my side here. I am really trying".

His embrace brought you comfort and you relaxed in his arms and nodded. Maybe you blew things out of proportion. "I know, you're right. It's just a birthday. It comes every year anyway".

"Exactly!". Gojo pulled back and smiled at you. "Now go wash your face and let's go to bed. I am tired".

As you lay in bed wide awake you thought about the uncut cake in the fridge. You turned around hoping to wake up Gojo but realised that he would probably call you childish for caring about a cake.

The fridge light illuminated the kitchen as you crouched down and slowly tried to pull out the cake. It was Gojo's favourite strawberry and cream cake.

You lit a small candle on a triangle piece and made a silent wish,"I want to be happy".

As you ate the cake in silence you looked around at the luxurious apartment he generously gifted you. When you first moved in it was your happy place, your sanctuary. But, lately it has been getting cold. You had everything that someone of your standing could ask for. A house, a car, a partner who supported you..financially. It all felt like a gold cage now.

You would happily trade all this comfort for a partner who wanted your company more than he wanted the next big offer on the table. You laughed to yourself. Were these really your problems now? Few years ago you would have taken this happily but now you are bitching about it as you eat an expensive slice of cake.You had touched the your amex card more than you had touched him in the past few months.Being with Gojo made you realise that how wrong you were in running after the money. Guess this was a small price to pay. People in castles are often lonely.

30th July, 2024 2:00 AM

Gojo drove at an ungodly speed across the city, hoping to catch a glimpse of you. He visited every restaurant and cafe you had mentioned. His best guess was that you would visit your favourite cafe on your birthday or maybe the place where you had your first date with him. But if he was being honest, he had no clue where to look for you. In the last two months he barely looked at you or spoke to you and it was all his fault. He was so busy fixing everything that he forgot to fix one thing that mattered the most, your heart. 

All your pleas and fights rang in his ear serving a cruel reminder of his actions. His heart raced faster than the time as he thought about everything he could have done differently. God if only he had one last chance he would do things differently. All the money in the world could not undo his actions. He groaned and hit the steering wheel thinking how misplaced his priorities were. By the time he realised what mattered the most, it was already too late. He hoped that it wasn’t too late. He prayed that you were safe and sound somewhere and that when he found you, you would find it in your heart to forgive him. But he knew deep in his heart, the best thing he can do for you is to let you go. But how could he? How could he let go of you? You brought sunshine into his life. Everything he was today was because of you. You were his motivation, his totem keeping his world stable.

He thought about your last Birthday and his actions brought bile to his mouth. He felt disgusted at himself. He imagined himself running out of the meeting to see you and how you would jump in his arms happily and he would kiss your pain away. But he didn't run out of any meetings. He didn't let you go when he should have. Instead he brought more pain to your life. He cursed you. He hurt you.

As the streetlights flashed past him, he wondered what he would say if he found you. Was it too late for a genuine apology? People gave him questioning looks as he ran the streets looking around in every direction. In this big and cold city he felt lost. He stopped and called out to women who looked like you and gave them a disappointing look when he realized he was wrong. 

He ran through alleys with questionable people waiting to take advantage of a vulnerable man. He spent thousands of dollars on strangers hoping to get some direction. He pulled his hair and screamed in empty alleys leading to a dead end. 

He never gave you the time you deserved and now time was slipping through his fingers. With each passing second, with each dead end lead, with each negative response, Gojo was slipping into insanity. 

Gojo stopped his car at a pier where the two of you would often meet. He sat on the bench where you had your first kiss. Defeated, devastated, tired, and hopelessly in love. Broken sobs filled the silence around him. “Please..God please!!”. He hung his head like a soldier who lost the war he was sure to win. His tears stained the light wood near his feet in dark brown. “Please..please..please..!!!”. He screamed. 

His phone buzzed. The message on the screen broke his cracked heart. “Found y/n’s phone by the river”. 

He was too late. It was too late. The world spun around him and then it all went dark.

30th July 2024, 4:00 AM

“How am I losing every time?”. You groaned and looked at the man hopelessly. 

The man shrugged looking at the spread of cards in front of him. “You are not playing with your heart”.

You scoffed looking at the cards in your hand,”My heart has been played enough. I should be using my brain now”.”

“In this game and in life people make the fatal mistake of not balancing between their feelings and logic. Do not force yourself to use logic where you should be listening to your heart”.

You laughed, “You are quite cryptic”.

“What do you want to bet next?”. He asked. Maybe it was the fading effects of liquor, but the man seemed wise and not as ragged as you had found him. 

“Hmm..let me see”. You pondered over his words for a moment.” So far I have lost my heels, my jacket..all I have left is my bag”

“Are you willing to part with it?”.

You held your bag in your hand and took a deep breath, “Yeah, why not”. You took your phone and placed the bag in between the two of you.

“Are you forgetting something?”

You chuckled, “what rule am I forgetting now?”

“Your keys. I am sure a girl like you has a house to return to”.

Your mind went numb. Did you even want to go back? What was the point? “No. I have everything I need”. After all, all you needed was your phone for identification. “Okay, so what do I do now?”.

“Now you pick a card from the deck?”

The deck of cards that the man had pulled out hours before was not the regular cards you had at home. Sure it was the basic 52 card deck, but they felt premium to hold. You felt the card between your fingers, turning it around to see the golden rune calligraphy on the navy blue background. “Oh…this card is blank..”.

The man smiled and began arranging his cards neatly in a pile on top of remaining cards. One can not interfere with fate. Humans think that fate is largely in our hands but little do we know that there are powers beyond our comprehension that work in cohesion to chart our life. Long ago you had cursed the fates, a curse so powerful that it compelled the fate to hear your plea. Now, you were given a chance to redo your life. An apology from the fates. 

“Is it?”

“Mmhmm”. You extended the card for the man to see. 

“What are the other cards in your hand?”.

“Queen of hearts, King of spades, and a-’

“Ace of hearts?”

You looked at the man in disbelief. Was he a con man, did you just get conned? You laughed at yourself. “Yes. An Ace of hearts”

The man smiled to himself and looked at you. A much younger version of him stared back at you.

“You!”. Your eyes widened as you realized why the man seemed familiar. “I just saw you inside!”. The same man who served you the drink was sitting in front of you. 

“What does your heart desire y/n?”

“Who are you?! And..and why..”. You felt dizzy and disoriented. “Did he..did he send you?” You stuttered. 

“Who? The god?”. The man laughed from his stomach. “You called me y/n. Did you forget?”

“Wh..what..no..I don-”.

“Yes you did. You screamed to the thundering skies above and asked for one more chance! So there you go!”. The man stared at you excitedly like a magician about to do the grand reveal.

Your hands trembled as you slowly turned the card to see three golden words appear on it out of thin air, Make a wish. You felt as if all the air had been sucked out of your lungs. 

The man looked at you with folded hands and dropped shoulders. “Well, since you were going to end your life anyway, I thought today would be the best time to-”.

Before the man could finish you grabbed your phone and bolted in the other direction. Tears ran down your face and the world spun around you. You looked back once to see if he was following you but the alley was empty now.

“Careful now”. The man appeared in front of you causing you to lose your balance. “Oops! Can’t let you get hurt”. He smiled as he caught you with one arm. 

“Please let me go..I will ..I swear I will never tell anyone about this”

“Darling even if you do, no one would believe you”. He shrugged and handed you the single card. “Take it. What’s the worst that can happen?”.

You took a few steps back and gulped hershey.

“Your time is running out y/n. You would be dead in..”. He took out a pocket watch and stared at it amusingly. “..in about 10 minutes”.

“What..why? Please don’t kill me!”.

“Aha!”. The man took one step towards you as you took one step away from him. “I can’t kill you. Since you decided to do the honours yourself tonight, I was just biding time with you. You can either accept this card and start over or…well..”, A shot of smoke appeared from his right palm, “,,poof..you can choose to cease to exist”.

You stared at the card in his left hand and his pocket watch in the right. Was this really happening? 

“Come one y/n, there must be someone you would live for..what about baby ren?”

Your eyes widened. “What..what is the catch?”.

“Oh there is no catch. It is merely an apology from me..I mean us. The only condition..you will be sent to a specific decisive moment in your life and from there…it all you..”. 

“What if..what if I…”.

“This is your last chance. You will never see me again..ever”.

Everything that had happened in the last few years flashed before your eyes. All the lies, betrayal, hurt, why did you have to suffer? You thought about the countless days where you cried in your bed curled up like a baby. Did you deserve that? You thought about all the fights you had in your mind where he gave you a chance to explain. But did he? All the dreams he showed you were all smoke and mirrors in the end. All the promises were just words spewed out in a blissful moment. He used you in the cruelest way and god oh god you missed who you used to be before you.He was a forbidden fruit that you dared to taste and you wished he had left you wondering instead. You would have died for his sins but you were dead inside. You thought about all the times you wished to redo things, to never cross paths with him again. This was your chance. 

You took the card from his hand and looked at him, “What do I do now”.

“Now you close your eyes y/n..”

You nodded your head.

“All the best y/n”. The man smiled. 

With a deep breath you closed your eyes and then it all went dark.

You opened your eyes and found yourself staring at your laptop screen. Your heart pounded in your ear and sweat beads rolled down your forehead like a string of pearls. HArsh sunlight blinded your eyes and you squinted to make sense of your surroundings. It wasn’t your room and yet it seemed familiar. Was it all a cruel dream? You gulped down the half empty glass of water kept on your table and leaned back in your chair gasping for air.

You stared blankly at the fan above and then it dawned on you. Slowly you got up and checked the date on your phone.

1st January 2021, 10:00 AM…

So it was all a dream then. But it felt too real. You ran your hands through your hair and took another deep breath. Just as you were about to get up from your desk a faint familiar blue peeking between pages of your diary caught your eye. With a quivering breath you dared to flip the page and the room got drained of oxygen when you saw the same card with the three words written. So it was all real. 

Right above the card scribbled in haphazard writing were cursed words that changed your life, Domain Dynamics Inc Interview : 01/01/21 10:15 AM. 

A team's notification snapped you out of your thoughts and saw a meeting reminder. You smiled to yourself and joined the meeting.

“Hello, y/n! Congratulations on getting through previous rounds! We are ha-”.

“I can not accept this offer”. You said as excitement coursed through your veins.

“Excuse me?”

“I..I am sorry for wasting your time but I can not accept this offer”.

“Y/n..if this is about your salary then we ca-”.

“It’s not. It’s not about the salary. 120k is a lot and I am sure you will find a better suited and more…deserving candidate for this role. I can’t accept this offer. Thank you for your time”. You ended the meeting with a wide smile on your face. Now you will never cross paths with him again.

“Good riddance”. You mumbled to yourself and opened your email. You remembered this day very very well. 

To: n.kento@goldenratiodesigns.com

Hello Mr.Kento,

It has been a pleasure interviewing with your firm and getting to know you and samantha. I would like to let you know that I will gladly accept your offer. I have attached a signed copy of my offer letter. Please let me know if anything else is needed from my end.

Looking forward to working with you and the team!

Regards,

Y/n l/n.

“Fuck Yess!!!!”. You creamed as you punched the air. “Yes! Yes! Yes!”.

“Y/n! What happened?”. You mom walked in barging through your bedroom. 

You turned around and saw the version of your mom not corrupted by Gojo but your still ached. You got up and hugged your mom like you were afraid to lose her.

She gently rubbed your back and chuckled,”What happened? I thought you had an interview right now so we were all quiet.”

“I..yes I did. But I didn’t accept the offer from Domain Dynamics”. You moved back and looked to the ground like a guilty child caught stealing.

“Why not?”

You could have lied that they didn’t offer a good pay but you wanted to know in your heart that she loved you regardless of how much you earned. 

“They were paying well but I didn’t like the company. People were quite rude and..selfish”.

“Oh, okay. What about the other firm?”.

“I accepted the offer from Golden Ratio Designs! The pay is lower than Domain Dynamics but I loved the team and everyone is really nice and supportive”. Your gulped anticipating cruel words that you had grown accustomed to,

Your mother stepped towards you and gently caressed your cheeks. “I am so proud of you. I am sure you made the right decision”.

Her words brought tears to your eyes and you wrapped your arms around her. “I promise I will take good care of you, dad, and ren! You don’t have to worry about anything!”.

“Oh my baby! If you are happy then we are happy!”. She smiled. “When do you have to move to tokyo?”.

“I don’t have to. The firm is right here in Kyoto”.

Taglist: @missybrat @lem-hhn @byakuya61085 @starlightanyaaa @inlove-maze

[midnightsmusings]

Bar! 141 AU fix

I really should make this a fic but for now it's a bunch of jumbled imagines so eat up.

(This was born of the first time I got shocked out of a panic attack by someone saying something so absurdly stupid to me and it WORKS. For sure something Soap would do, it grew from there)

-Reader getting close to Price, and bonus how the others deal with your panic attacks.

CW: AFAB Reader, suggestive themes, Ghost mentions a genital piercing like the freak he is. Panic attack descriptions.

You didn't see Price as often as you'd like. The brief appearances of him coming out to check on the bar before heading back to his office was all you got. His scrutinizing look and warm touch on your lower back lingered far longer than the man himself did.

Sure, he didn't come around often but it certainly was enough for him to get lodged into your mind, your routine. You always anticipated his next appearance with bated breath.

It wasn't until after an espically bad day that you started seeing him more. A panic attack interrupted your ability to serve the never ending crowd of customers.

Gaz's hands guided your hyperventilating self towards the secluded office, murmuring soothingly over your harsh gasps for breath as he knocked on the thick door quickly.

Price had opened, cigar hanging out of his mouth in shock at the sight of your tear streaked face before he straightened up and schooled his features. He gave a nod to Gaz as his rough hands quickly replaced the man's soft ones.

You were too focused on trying to get air into your burning lungs to register Gaz's sweet kiss to your cheek before he rushed back to the front to help Ghost drag off the man who caused all this. A touchy customer, one who got a little too friendly with their girl.

"Cmon darlin let's get you comfortable" Price rumbled, warm palm smoothing up and down your back as he got you over to the couch that sat off to the side in his office. He would admit to no one that he immediately bought an extra soft blanket--velvet even--for it as soon as he noticed your tendency to get overwhelmed on busy shifts.

He watched you carefully, keeping up a calm exterior as he squatted in front of you while dragging said blanket around your shaking and curled in shoulders. "Follow my breaths now sweetheart" he said lowly as his hand tugged your clenched one to his broad chest.

He laid it flat over his sternum as he breathed in deeply for you to feel. Your nails immediately dug into the hair peeking out of his undone buttons but he barely noticed, too focused on settling you.

You were stuck gasping for air, sobs choking your words and head pounding as you failed to draw in a full breath no matter how hard you tried.

"Focus" he said, tone turning more commanding as one broad hand pinned your palm to his chest while the other gripped the back of your neck, tugging you closer towards him.

It didn't immediately work but he was a patient man. He simply gripped you tightly as you fought past the panic, a grounding warmth.

Those moments of waiting felt like hours to John as he held steady and kept his own breaths slow and exaggerated for you to copy. Ghost once almost knifed him for trying to talk about what was upsetting the man during his own panic attack. Knowing better now, he kept quiet and steady with you.

"There ya go good girl" he sighed as soon as you took in your first full breath, your body sagging against his as your tears slowed.

He kept his hold firmly on your neck as he felt your shaking hands clutch desperately at his shirt. He understood the silent plea and kept close.

"Never gotten horny during a panic attack before" you mumbled as soon as your breaths evened out. He chuckled in disbelief and you hid your wide smile in his neck.

Bonus HC's:

Ghost, privy to a few panic attacks himself, favored Johnny's usual way of knocking him out of them. The Scott always had something stupid to say, stupid enough that Ghost got completely shocked out of his panic. So he tried it with you when he found you out back one night.

You said you were just going to take the trash out but he clocked the shaking of your hands and immediately followed.

"I have a dick piercing" he muttered, tone casual and even as he stood there despite his chest clenching at the sight.

You were leaning against the wall, teary eyed and fighting for a full breath in. There was a hidden, pleased smile on his face when he saw you stop short of a broken breath.

For a moment you just blinked up at him but to his utter delight soon a short, shocked laugh left you instead of a desperate gasp for air. Ghost was sure you'd cry harder at his attempt. He was fully prepared to fetch Gaz so the sweet man could fix his mess. Thankfully you just gave him a watery smile and his tense shoulders dropped.

"I'd quite l-like to see that" you breathed out, still leaning against the brick wall outside as you slowly caught your breath, the ache in your lungs lessening leaving way for a blush to grow over your cheeks as your eyes lingered on Ghost's pants. You knew it.

Notorious for his ease of jolting Ghost out of any panic attack, Soap was who you sought out when suddenly you were thrown into one.

It was a small one, one you could handle yourself with just a few moments alone. However, you knew he could get the job done far quicker than your painstaking process of counting breaths did.

Hands shaking as you desperately searched the back room for a familiar mop of hair. Quickly you were sobbing incoherent words at the relief of finding him combined with the frustration of not being able to explain.

"Got a wee bet with Gaz aboot what color panties yer wearin" he said quickly grasping your waist to steady you as the other propped his chin up, feigning calm as he watched you closely.

"I said yer wearin none am I right?" he asked smiling innocently when you rolled your teary eyes, a small irritated huff replacing those panicked gasps. His eyes flicked down to your heaving chest watching you take each deep breath in, relieved.

"Fuckn freak" you muttered finally, tone fond and oh so thankful before you ran a hand affectingly over his hair. A kiss was pressed in the spot you tugged on before you left to wash your reddened and tear streaked face in the bathroom.

"Aye I'm right" he nodded to himself smiling as he stood and casually followed you to the bathroom. That kiss was an invitation no?

Not many knew, but Gaz quite fancied himself a masseuse. He also became completely useless when you cried, all his charm flying out the window as your pretty eyes watered.

So when he saw you sitting in your car, hands held over your face as your shoulders shook he immediately knew what was happening. He'd gotten the brief from the others about how they soothed you out of them, but he couldn't think of anything to say that would surprise you.

Often it was the other way around now that you'd come out of your shell and only a man like Price was capable of commanding you out of them. He settled on knocking on the glass gently and pointing to the lock. He was making it up as he went, knowing you needed someone now.

Once you were able to get it unlocked he quickly slid his hands over your arms, drawing you into his chest. The pads of his fingers massaging into your tense muscles as he murmured lowly in your ear. One hand trailed gently up the side of your throat to rub into your scalp as the other worked at the back of your shaking shoulders.

"Got lots of massage oils I'd like to try on you one day doll" he said lowly as he just simply massaged, he wasn't quite sure it would work so he was watching the bar hoping one of the guys would come out soon. He knew if he tried to say something to knock you out of the panic, he'd profess his love or some stupid shit like that.

Thankfully, before he had to grab your phone and call Price, he felt you nod against his chest.

"Got any edible oils?" your voice came out muffled from where you were pressed into his pecs.

He laughed in both shock and relief. The movement jostled you yet made you relax more against him, cheek nuzzling into his soft shirt with a hum as his hands made quick work of your tense muscles.

[maybeiwasjustjade]

The way Teen Wolf (and subsequently the McCall Pack and Parents) treated Theo is probably one of the most interesting dynamics in the whole show.

And by interesting, I meant downright hypocritical .

Because sure, we can’t kill or plot against people, but hey! Let’s also have the main characters constantly work with adults who did in fact hurt them, torture them, and even murdered them! Let’s have other murderers running around teenagers without problem. Or have them date almost murderers and actual murderers. We’ll even hand out second chances and thirds like candy on halloween!

Allison. Chris Argent. Peter Hale. Aiden. Ethan. Deucalion. Hell, half the McCall Pack at this point.

But hey, we draw the line at Theo fucking Raeken.

Let’s start with Theo’s vague childhood and the events leading up to his the Dread Doctors taking him. The story itself is so nonsensical that it’s a wonder we never actually got the whole true story.

1. We know there must’ve been something wrong with Theo’s health from a young age. No child would believe his sister wanted to give him her heart unless that child has a potentially soon-to-be fatal heart disease.

2. Teen Theo is very different from baby Theo. Enough that Stiles was able to guess that teen Theo wanted something from them. If baby Theo was a burgeoning psychopath or sociopath, Stiles would have mentioned it. He didn’t; baby Theo must’ve been a normal little kid before the Dread Doctors got their hands on him

3. Tara’s death. This happened around 4th grade. We know he was nine. Valack insisted that he was ten, but Theo himself admitted the Doctors were already manipulating him by the age of nine. We don’t know how long it was before that they started whispering in his ears.

4. Theo’s parents must’ve been quite absent. All the other Chimaera subjects were kids that were taken because no one would notice them gone for long periods of time. A nine year old going missing is a lot more obvious than a bunch of 15-16 year olds. So they must’ve manipulated him either during sleep time, or after school. Either way: where the heck were his parents?

Theo might be a good liar, but I don’t believe for a second he killed Tara because he wanted to. Or of his own free will. The Dread Doctors got into his head and manipulated him into doing it by focusing on his desperation to live.

A nine year old boy is abducted and tortured into a living science lab experiment. He spends the next 8 or so years being their only success. He’s exposed constantly to death and blood and torture. He’s raised to be the perfect spy, and was probably tortured into mastering his tells. Remember: at 17, Theo had more control over his shift and powers than even most adults. He was able to hide and manipulate his chemosignals. He was able to keep his heart steady despite lying constantly. Body language, eyes, tone—all manipulated to such a degree even Malia was fooled.

That is not a talent that comes naturally. That is not something a teenager should be able to do, not to mention do it so well he was able to manipulate so many shifters at once. That is something you could be trained and tortured into doing, though.

So you get a traumatized, brainwashed baby spy with murderous tendencies, who is self-serving to a detriment because he spent nearly a decade under the thumb of murderous scientists who could kill him anytime they deemed him no longer necessary. I’m not surprised Theo ended up the way he did: no one lives true that without accepting the need to do the worst possible things to survive.

What I don’t understand is what makes Theo so different from all the other antagonists/anti-heroes/villains that the McCall Pack considers him irredeemable and thus deserving of death.

They forgave Allison for Boyd and Erica and Isaac.

They accepted Chris Argent and his history of spilling innocent blood.

They let Peter live and worked with him after his return in S2. After S4.

Meredith Blake literally got people killed via a deadpool.

Deucalion was healed and allowed to go free despite the carnage he wrought in his revenge.

Nobody hunted down Gerard after needing his help in S5. Or made sure he was indisposed.

Aiden and Ethan were allowed to walk free.

So why Theo?

Kira sent him to hell. The entire McCall Pack stood there and did nothing while he was killed, even when he begged for help. Malia constantly threatens to kill him without remorse or care. Scott told Liam to put him back underground, essentially killing him again.

Oh, but this is the same pack that hands out second chances like candy! Who refuse to take lives or even consider it a possibility. Who works with murderers and killers without issue as long as it’s needed, with far less protest than they did Theo in 6A.

Or is because Theo’s the only one that succeeded, and they can’t accept they lost? This miraculous, spunky, rag-tag pack of teenagers who somehow survived against all odds…lost miserably to a teenager their age.

Even the adults showed more disgust and disdain towards Theo than, again, the literal adults who’ve hurt and killed kids before. You never saw Stilinski threaten anyone the way he did Theo, did you?

Or is it because unlike everyone else, Theo couldn’t really be manipulated? No loved ones or best friends or exes and lovers; no parents or sister alive to be used against him. He had no bridges to be burned, was already operating like a dead man walking.

I just find it funny that Theo had to stay dead and gone, but Peter was placed in Eichen and Gerard in a care home.

[blueberrymori]

☆summary: reader relapses on a bad day and doesn't tell Bucky, leaving him worried.

☆warnings/tags: MALE!reader -he/him pronouns, angst whit happy ending, angst to fluff, suicidal thoughts, dysphoria, mention of self-harm and scars from self-harm, comfort and affection, Be careful if this triggers you, don't read if you know you can't deal with triggers, you are not alone and don't be ashamed to ask for help.

☆A/N: I didn't really know how to finish this one, it was two in the morning when I wrote it, and I dont use Y/N or variants in my fanfics

being raised in a home where your parents are emotionally absent affects various aspects of your life, when your mother wasn't prepared to be a mother and throws all the traumas and insecurities she had at you, always making a point of emphasizing this in any conflicting opinions between you. A father who doesn't know how to apologize and lives drunk and has aggressive tendencies where he only stayed married to your mother to avoid paying alimony and in his eyes you remind him of your mother, he hated being married to your mother.

When you wake up in the morning after a long nightmare with your family and the lack of Bucky in bed next to you only serves to increase the feeling of anguish in your chest.

Bucky wasn't an idiot, he knew that there were days when you were more distant and did everything you could to occupy your mind, and those days made Bucky extremely worried, especially when he saw you isolating yourself without talking to him, he knew what it felt like to distance yourself from being alone, and he, being your boyfriend, didn't want that for you.

That day when Bucky came back from one of his morning runs he saw you in the kitchen crying by the stove, he automatically thought the worst, he ran to you. - Honey? hey hey Look at me please - Bucky said as he placed his meaty hand on your cheek in a loving way.

The blue-eyed man looked into your eyes, tears blurring his cheeks - it's okay, I'm here now - the dark brown-haired man said as he kissed your forehead and pulled you into a hug.

-What happened, my love? Talk to me, or just cry and let it all out - he said as he brought his hand up to your hair and stroked it. Bucky kissed the top of your head and held you close until he heard the first trace of your voice.

- I had a bad dream...when I woke up you weren't here and when I got up to make coffee I dropped the cup and it broke - your weak voice between sniffles made Bucky bring his fingers to your chin and lift it gently so you could look at it.

- Did you hurt yourself with the broken china? - His voice was low and sweet as honey, and when he saw you nodding negatively he took you in his arms and walked over to the sofa in the living room. - It wasn't just the cup, was it? - he said as he sat you down on the sofa and sat next to you.

Your silence was the answer for Bucky, he sighed and took your hand in his and looked into your eyes. - love, please be honest with me, I can't help you if you keep quiet - he said with his expression turning into a gentle smile.

- No... it wasn't just the cup, I think I've become a little over-aware of everything, my scars, my appearance... absolutely everything I hate about myself - Bucky intertwined their fingers together and continued to look into his eyes.

-You shouldn't hate them, they show how strong you've been, that you've been at your worst and overcome it - the dark brown haired man said looking at you with a gaze full of love and affection, he's been in your place and sometimes he's still there, but you've always been there for him when it happened. - And do you want to know a secret? You're stronger than you think, you're a beautiful boy, you're kind and on top of everything you're the one who showed me the light -  he said, kissing your forehead.

-Bucky, how can you love me? - your question drew a sad laugh from him, making him pull you onto his lap and hold your cheeks between his hands so you wouldn't look away.

- I ask myself that question every day, how can you love me? after everything I've done and been through -  Bucky said looking into her eyes which were dripping with tears, he smiled slightly and kissed her lips - I love you my prince -  he said sprinkling kisses on her cheek as soon as his lips moved away from hers.

His meaty hand moved to trace the scars on your arm, he moved his fingers lovingly and held your forearm close to his lips, kissing the scars lightly. - I love every part of you, and I don't see anything as a flaw, you're perfect, from the strand of your hair to the tip of your foot - he said, leaving kisses sprinkled on her arm.

- Thanks, Bucky -  Her voice made him look at her face again, and he tilted his head slightly.

- Thanks for what? - The blue-eyed man said as he moved his metal hand to wipe another tear from his eye.

- For taking care of me... not letting me give up. - The boy said, looking down at his scarred left arm, Bucky moved his hand and intertwined their fingers again.

- You don't have to thank me for anything, my love, I'm your boyfriend, we're together and I want you well and healthy -  he says, smiling at you and pulling you to put your head on his chest as he settles on the sofa. He kisses your temple and moves his metal hand to your back.

- I love you, my angel, every part of you, even the ones you think are flawed -  Bucky says as he traces soothing circles on your back.

[unholyhelbig]

Would you consider doing vampire Kate again?

Title: Nothing but Weakness (Read part one | Read Part Two)

Ship: Female!Reader x Vampire!Kate Bishop

Warnings: Vampire tendencies, blood, dom/sub dynamics, an incident with a fork, power dynamics, mentions of murder, kind of mentions of trafficking but not really, night clubs, blood consumption, Humans as familiars, horrible grammar I don't proofread

[A/n: I got way too carried away, this is for all two of you that enjoy the vampire Kate Bishop series as much as I do. It's purely self-serving. I'm off to the South to deal with very unpleasant family matters so this is the last original thing I'll be posting for a while. Apologies.]

Main Masterlist | Read my stuff on AO3 | Leave Requests

Canine teeth dug painlessly into the grooved marks in your wrist. They’d been tattooed there from years of practiced bites, carved from habit. While Kate fed into her unpredictability, she was a creature of habit at the end of the day. A creature that liked the warmth of you in her lap and the taste of your blood against her tongue just as much as you enjoyed the way her saccharine venom lulled you into a state of bliss.

Kate’s free hand dragged patterns up and down your spine in an act of soothing you. You weren’t bothered, nor were you in need of her comfort but you accepted it willingly. Craved it in a way that you didn’t want to admit. She smelled spiced and warm like an autumn day. Your nose was in the crook of her neck, and you felt so small curled up in her lap as she handled paperwork in the low light of her office. The same office you’d broken into more than five years ago now.

Sometimes, when she wasn’t plagued with hunger, you’d simply grab a book and read while she worked. But she’d beaconed you for something more tonight. She’d wanted you in her arms and you were hardly one to refuse her requests.  

You hardly knew how she found you crowded into her lap comfortable. But she never complained. Kate withdrew her teeth and licked at the familiar wound. She was a messy eater, but never with you. She even tucked your hand against your chest and pulled you closer. Timidly going back to her work without a word, just a last swallow of her meal.

On nights like this, you drifted in and out of sleep to the sound of her pen against paper and her breath flowing in and out of her lungs. While neither of you admitted it, nor did you mention it outside of the office walls, you both reveled in the close comforts of one another.

Kate’s cellphone ringing pulled you from the hazy confines of the moment. She didn’t’ shift you, but her voice rumbling in her chest nearly made you whine. You knew better than to move unless she moved you herself. Her hand came up to the nave of your neck, scratched the back of your head absentmindedly.

“Here? Well, I don’t see why you’d want to…” You heard the air escape her lungs. “They’re insufferable. No, mother. Not all of them. A select few but when they are gathered in a crowd as you are suggesting they become a pack of wild animals that I am hesitant to entertain in my home.”

There was a beat of silence. If Katherine Bishop had a beating heart you assumed it would be thudding wildly against her chest cavity. She’d stopped working her hand through your hair and had allowed it to rest against the small of your neck in a grip that stabilized herself. You picked your head from her chest and finally got a good look at the bite on your wrist that had healed back over into the dark etching of her teeth.

Another perk of being her familiar was healing with a speed unmatched. Living in time with her as long as she allowed it. She’d grown a fondness for you and showed as much as she gently grabbed your hand with a slight frown and kissed the mark lightly.

Kate’s resolve was cracking, “Fine. Yes. Whatever. But know this, mother, if you are to step foot into my territory, you must respect my rules and that includes my property,” her stare darkened tenfold as crimson eyes met your own. “All of my property.”

She hung up without a goodbye as she often did, and you didn’t probe her for more answers. It was better to stay silent and let Kate fill the silence save for the crackling of the hearth. She huffed something heavy and threw her cellphone back on the mahogany desk.

“It seems as if I’m hosting the Romanov and Murdock clans for dinner this Friday, I guess my parents penthouse is getting fumigated.” Kate sat back, stretching her arms over her head. It exposed the pale beauty of her own neck, the soft expanses of immortality that made your own heart pound. “In other words, Jack went on a bender and can’t be bothered to find someone to clean it up in time.”

“I could, I’m sure.”

“Mm, with your eyes closed and half your own blood drained. You’re shockingly good at cleaning up my messes, darling. I’d prefer to keep you to myself. If that means playing house for an evening, I think we can manage. Don’t you?”

The three families converged once every few months and often rotated between estates. Ironically enough, the place you despised visiting the most with Eleanor and Jack’s penthouse, so this was a bit of a reprieve, if you were being honest. It would give the woman less of an opportunity to corner you on your own turf.

Something about the constant revolving door of familiars made your skin crawl. The matriarch of the Bishop dynasty took every chance to remind you of how expendable you were. Despite the swift kick in the knee Kate would deliver under the table exactly once before a glare would be leveled in her direction.

You were nothing but a ghost to the Romanovs and the Murdock families. That suited you just fine. Seen not heard, ready with decanters of chilled ichor that had been bottled and preserved in cellars for centuries. You stood prim and proper and watched for Kate’s hand signals. For her distress. You knew when she needed her coat and when she needed you.

Kate’s warm fingers, tepid from her dinner, grasped your chin and turned your focus towards her. “We will handle it just fine. What’s on your mind? You can speak freely here, pet.”

It almost felt like a trap, but you knew it wasn’t. Not with Kate. Not after all of these years as her faithful familiar. Maybe within the first two, when she was hellbent on instructing you the way she wanted to. When you were even more determined to fight her every step of the way just to see how far you could push it. You’d both learned to cohabitate. To learn what would work.

It had turned from cordiale, to actually enjoying one another’s company, to craving it.

“There should be more confidence, being here in your home. On your territory. Rationally I know that. But your mother doesn’t enjoy my presence. At the last dinner,” You swallowed, wanted to look away but knew that didn’t fare well with Kate. Never had. “Mrs. Bishop knows that you are too stubborn to let me go as your familiar.”

Kate had an adorable scowl that betrayed her confusion. The slightest lilt to her head and jut to her jaw. The problem with being nothing more than a ghost in the halls was hearing things you were not meant to and keeping your mouth shut where it counts.

“What did you hear?”

“She proposed” You drew in an unsteady breath “she would like Natalia Romanova to barter for my services. Believes that you’ll come to your senses without me clouding them.”

A low rumble pushed past Kate’s lips. It was a mix between a growl and hum that signaled thinking. Her fingers dug into your hip in a possessive show, almost like pulling you even closer into her chest would mark you with her cinnamon metallic scent. Of course, it wouldn’t. But you didn’t mind the closeness.

“My mother fears that we’re getting close to a milestone between vampires and their familiars, and I can’t help but disagree.”

It was your turn to cock your head to the side. She’d often explain things about lamia history in bits and pieces. The Bishops were rooted in the south, and she wasn’t too proud of the fact. Old money that bred old discomforts. She’d curl up in front of the fire on the floor in the living room with a glass of bourbon, the two of you passing it back and forth with stories of her ancestors. The technicalities would slip past silver tongues.

“If deemed worthy by their masters, and chosen by the familiars themselves, they can be sired. So offered the choice. It seems that my mother worries of our closeness, that I’ll present such a gift to you. Though, many deem it more of a curse than a blessing.”

“Huh,”

“Huh.”

The heat never seemed to reach Kate’s nose, but you never flinched when she nuzzled against your cheek, breathed you in. A curse. Her warm breath on your collarbone and nimble fingers at the waistband of your sweatbands didn’t’ feel like much of a curse. Neither did the handful of gentle mornings that she graced you with over the years.

But then there was the bloodlust. The sharpened teeth and the bones that were picked clean by maggots that color of the moon. You’d witnessed enough dinners to hear the way they spoke of humanity as if it were a spade in a deck of cards. Something that could be folded and put in the spokes of a bicycle or played in a hand to win a few chips, but nothing more. Certainly, something less.

Sometimes, you’d dream of the group of people you’d met the same night you crossed paths with Katherine Bishop. She’d disposed of the bodies herself, but it had been the last time. From that evening on, it was you that dug the tip of the shovel into the dirt and took care of it. People who had families; mothers, daughters, brothers and sons. More cards and more decks.

“Baby, your heartbeat is deafening. I’m not offering up a thing, not on the pretense of sending my mother into a fit and certainly not to push you into one. But you’re not going with the Romanov’s. Not after I’ve spent all this damn time teaching you.” She nipped at your ear, chuckling.

“Right, right” You reveled in her good mood, returned her smile with a soft one. “I’ll make sure to remember my lessons.”

“I can reinforce them before the dinner party.”

“No really, I don’t think that’s necessary.”

“I think it might be.” She moved from nipping to kissing a delicate spot right below your ear, one that made you melt further into her hold, eyes fluttering shut obediently. “Just to be sure.”

Yelena shed her coat with practiced ease. When the expensive fabric met your fingertips, it lacked the warmth that accompanied any human. It was for show, to keep her from collecting any moisture from the snow that fell in sheets from the sky and collected at the edges of Kate’s property.

She smelled pleasant, of mint and sage. “Thank you, rodnaya”

The younger Russian smoothed the collar of your shirt with her nimble fingers as if it were out of place to begin with. You enjoyed Yelena’s presence. The Romanov family were much unlike the other vampire dynasties. They were messy in the sense that they handled their business with a sharp edge.

Alexi laughed much too loudly, Melina rarely admonished, Yelena and Natalia bickered as if they hadn’t had centuries to settle their quarrels. If you were to be bartered into a family of lamia, you would comfortably settle for the Romanovs. If you weren’t falling steadily for Katherine Bishop and her horrible mother, you would willingly go with Natalia, should she have you.

“Do not tell Eleanor, but I hit her Cadillac twice trying to parallel park.” Yelena huffed, “We can both blame Kate, no?”

She patted your shoulder and whisked away towards the parlor before you could open your mouth to respond. You listened as her boots made muffled steps on the carpet, the influx in conversation as she joined the Murdock’s and the Bishop’s. You blinked a few times, shaking off the feel of her touch before hanging her coat next to the others and reorienting yourself.

Candlelight flickered in every room of the house, shading only the essential parts of the home. Eleanor had brought in her own chef, the same one that had been with the family for a few years on the recommendation of a family friend. Anna Ameyama, someone who was trembling the first time you’d met her, nearly slicing through the meat of her palm until you steadied her hand.

She worked with practiced ease now and her leftovers were the best thing you’d ever tasted. You often hung around the kitchen and watched as she cooked. She was the closest thing to a friend that you had. The other familiars, Eleanors toys, something she found expendable, were never around or coherent enough to form a bond with.

“Grab the thyme from the fridge and make yourself useful for once.” Anna mumbled, hovering over the stove as she stirred something with diligence. A light heat dusted her cheeks, tinting her pale skin a light pink.

“I’ll have you know I’m very useful, just not to you.” You winced at the brightness of the artificial light in the fridge. This was the fullest you’d ever seen it. Kate kept you well fed for her own benefit, but Anna was a chef of sustenance, and these were ingredients that you’d never heard of. “Yeah, which one is thyme, the green one or the green one?”

She groaned and reached around you. It was one of the green ones, so you were on the right track. “useless, absolutely useless. Can’t believe you used to work in a grocery store and you can’t tell the difference between thyme and lettuce.”

“I bagged the groceries for middle aged white women, that’s not the same thing as personal shopping.” You grabbed a serving tray from the top shelf, started loading it up with glasses that were so clear you could fix your eyeliner in them. They were chilled, burned your fingertips.

“Taste,”

Anna held a burning hot spoon to your lips, but you fought off the heat in exchange for a swallow of broth and bite of potatoes that was absolutely heavenly. It pulled a moan from your throat that confirmed whatever she wanted from you. She beamed at you, clearly satisfied.

You opened the freezer and sifted around the innate coolness until your fingers wrapped around the bottle you were looking for. Kate had pulled it from the cellar hours before, picked it by it’s sweetness alone. She had an incredible pallet; one you’d never question. You did not want to know the source of the blood, it’s clearness giving away it’s age.

Anna gave you a wary glance and swallowed thickly. She paled at the sight before she turned her attention back to the meal. You considered her lucky. She’d told Eleanor time and time again that she would be more useful as a chef than as a two-bit servant. Too many people would miss her. An entire restaurant that she had to run.

Evenly, you picked up the tray and walked into the dining room. Conversation was flowing easily. Despite this being Kate’s home, she sat to the right of Eleanor, who was at the head of the table, peering down at the rest of the guests. Melina, Alexi and Yelena sat on one side of the table. Kate, Matthew, Karen, and Jack on the other.

While you were used to being ignored, Karen’s startlingly red eyes found you right away. She was new. The promise of blood, no matter how old and exquisite, was tantalizing nonetheless. You couldn’t imagine the pull, the way Matt moved his hand to her thigh to still her. It seemed to work in combination with his easy smile.

Eleanor had been furious the second he mentioned finding love. With the secretary in his law firm of all things. Kate, of course, was overjoyed. That invisible pressure of an arranged marriage between herself and Matt dissipated, and the dinners continued just like they always had. Civil and without the families crossing lines they shouldn’t in a city that was much too big for three dynasties of immortals.

Still, you made sure to set down Karen’s glass first and pour the sloshing red liquid to the hilt to avoid any conflict. You were quite skilled at your craft, moving with a fluidity that only years serving Kate had created and once every chilled glass was placed and filled, including Kate’s, you tucked the tray against your stomach and stepped to the wall behind her, placing the bottle on the cart, ready to refill anything that was drained.

“You know, Katherine. A proper pet knows how to serve their Master before anyone else in the house.” Eleanor jabbed.

You felt your fingers tighten against the silver of the tray but kept your jaw from clenching. It would be far too noticeable. Anna came in with her own cart and you peeled yourself from the wall. Aided her in setting the food out with a diligence that demanded it. Purposely, you started at Alexi.

“Mm, when was the last time you kept one longer than a week? I know they do test your patience. Thank you, Anna. This looks divine.” She gave the chefs hand a squeeze in thanks, if only to quell the paleness in her complexion at the shop talk. You didn’t like the way she swayed at the talk of death.

“The girls got a point.” Melina dipped her spoon into broth, and didn’t take a bite. “I have not seen a single servant twice in your home, it may not have turned heads a millennium ago, but now��”

You’d returned to your spot at the wall now, Anna to the kitchen to prepare dessert, you were sure. Your eyes often watched the flames in the hearth. It was better than the floor and the patterns on the carpet. You weren’t meant to be privy to conversations as such. But you could feels eyes boring into you.

Natalia Romanov was watching you. Fern-colored and sending chills and up and down your spine with ferocity. Nails dug into your palms and the dryness in your throat was unmatched. If it wouldn’t’ draw too much attention to yourself, you would have cleared your throat.

“That was not my point.”

Natalia took a pull from her drink, finally moving her gaze. “It may not have been your point, but it’s a fair one to bring up. You focus much of your attention on Kate’s pet, but I see you in my nightclub picking out your own, only to seek out a new one weeks later.”

“Bad for business.” Yelena tsked.

“Perhaps this should have been a private conversation between Katherine and myself.”

“No, no. I’d love to hear this.” Kate leaned forward, a devilish glint in her eyes. “If you see fit to find your charges at Apex then might as well explain yourself to the owners.”

It was satisfying to see Eleanor squirm, to dunk bread into her stew and soak up broth before shoving it into her mouth without a hint of elegance. She tore off a bit with the canines of her teeth and chewed to think over her answer. No one else filled the silence. There was no need to.

“Well, how else am I meant to fill my appetite? Matthew, we’re from different times. Less civil times. The world is changing and while Natalia works hard to foster certain… impulses at her club I am well above that.”

“I appreciate the sentiment, Mrs. Bishop, but I have outgrown my boyish days of bloodlust.” Matt said.

“Fine then,” She huffed, taking another bite of bread, talking around it this time. “Just me then, that craves something more out of those we bring into our homes? You all can’t sit here and tell me that your primal instincts don’t take over from time to time. That your need to kill doesn’t overwhelm the need to feast.”

“The world is changing,” Alexi spoke in that loud and boisterous way that he always did. Yet somehow it was soft. As if the socialites statement had knocked him out of himself. “I cannot deny that it is in all of our natures to tear the throats out of those lesser than us. But it is also in our natures to love those that are more fragile, is it not?”

Jack drained his glass in two long gulps, signaling for you to refill it. You moved quickly, doing just that. “Some might argue that fragility breeds weakness, yes? Katherine has had y/n for what? Five years now. That’s certainly a weakness.”

“Quite the contrary,” Natalia signaled you herself, passing you her glass with much more elegance than Jack had. Kate tracked you with a darkness glowering in her eyes. Never angry at you, instead stewing at the subject matter of the conversation itself. “I would say that their bond strengthens y/n’s loyalty. You’ve never seen Katherine in a scandal have you? Nor have you seen anyone else at this table face the media. We all have people that not only have to fix it, but want to.”

“I’m missing your point, Natalia. I can very well pluck someone off the street and force them to do my bidding.”

“Y/n,” Matthew addressed you directly, your hand stopping just as you set the glass down for Natalia. They used your name in passing, but never addressed you directly. Never like this. You felt ice in your bones, breath stop cooly in your throat. “Answer me this, had Eleanor pulled you from Apex as you were, would you heed her word?”

You straightened, hands tightening around the million-dollar bottle of blood. Right away, your eyes found Kate for permission. To speak, to breathe, to stir up some type of rich conversation. Your thumb brushed over the lip of the bottle and smudged the brown blood over the skin.

Kate leaned back in her chair, swept over your form with her gray stare. She held confidence in you after all these years. Not from the nights when the two of you were tangled up in one another. She held all the power, so strong and nimble with your delicate body under her touch. Not as your life dwindled between her jaws and tongue and coolness. She trusted you. Her nod showed that. “Go ahead, pet.”

“No sir, I don’t think I would.”

Yelena let out a bark of a laugh and held her empty glass to you. “takoy upryamyy. Not all humans are the same, Eleanor. You used to be one yourself, you may treat them as expendable now, but I find my familiar to be quite useful. I’ve had them for twelve years and counting. They are family.”

“I see I’m outnumbered here, even by the help.” Eleanor spat out like venom.

Kate scoffed, shaking her head as you returned to your spot behind her, flush against the wall. Dessert was soon served and distracted the conversation for just a moment. Natalia had flashed a smile or two your way as Eleanor glowered, the drinks switching from brewed blood to a lighter campaign. You’d rubbed the spot of blood on the hem of your pants, trying hard to wipe away the remnants.

“Give her to me, then.” Eleanor cut down the cross section of lemon meringue that Anna had set out. She hadn’t looked up, much too focused on the way it was congealed. “If all of you are so concerned about keeping two-bit humans out of my claws, I might as well have Katherine’s pet.”

An eerie silence fell over the dinner table. Not even the logs in the fireplace wanted to shift. Jack would usually dampen Eleanors blows with a bit of humor or rational. This time he was stunned into silence. His wife had a tendency to push things too far with you, but she’d never overtly suggested that Kate give you up. Especially when the ending of that trade would certainly result in your death.

She’d tried to get Natalia to take you, and that had failed. Poking and prodding at her daughter in front of an audience was the next best thing. She mistook Kate for being weak over and over again in the last five years. If she thought that the other families being here would soften the blows, she was wrong. You could almost smell it on her.

Eleanors’ eyes zeroed in on you. “Come here. I want a better look at you.”

Kate held her hand up as if you were going to obey Eleanor in the first place. It was a show of brawn. Her multitude of rings caught the candlelight, her other hand tightening around the handle of her steak knife. The chair creaked when she leaned forward. “Pray tell, do you recall the conversation we had the other week?”

“I have many conversations with you, Kate, you must be more specific.”

Melina stabbed the tip of her pie with her fork, entirely too amused with the conversation. Karen had followed the entire exchange on the edge of her seat. She’d sat through many court cases, could feel the tension amp up like electricity on her fingertips.

In a swift movement, Kate had plunged the steak knife into the center of Eleanors hand up to the hilt. The crunch of tendon and bone was drowned out by Eleanors scream of shock. Kate had nailed her to the mahogany with sheer strength. To her credit, she schooled her face into nothing more than a grimace after a choke of air. Kate’s hand didn’t let up on the utensil.

“Damn,” Yelena scoffed. Natalia elbowed her in the ribs.

 “Perhaps you lack the emotional maturity to form a bond with a familiar of your own but that does not give you the right to take mine. Nor does it excuse your pitiful posturing. We did discuss respecting my property in my own home, didn’t we, mother?”

“I hardly see-“

She turned the knife, another squelching crack. “Didn’t we mother?”

“Yes Katherine! I apologize for insulting your mutt, can you please remove your fine China from my hand before you do some permanent damage. We have an image to uphold.”

Kate’s eyes darted around to the table. Their image was upheld just fine. Jack had smoothed out his cloth napkin until it was creased halfway to Sunday. The Romanov family was thoroughly entertained, and Karen was savoring the last swallow of blood in her bourbon glass. It had gone warm by now.

She pulled the knife from the table smoothly, set it back in place and took a bite of her pie as if nothing happened. Eleanor tamped the bleeding down with a cloth napkin that matched the deep red color of her own blood. She glowered at you. Something that was par for the course.

“This is good pie.” Matthew commented, poked at the vanilla whip. “Need the recipe.”

“Mm, good luck getting that out of Anna.” Kate replied.

He scoffed, something nervous, something that broke the tension in the air. He mentioned Kate’s interrogation skills and everyone at the table, with the exception of Eleanor Bishop, burst into laughter.

The force of water kept your feet from swaying at a normal speed. You watched the blurred image of your own toes in a daze, sipping at a glass of whiskey and reveling in the burn. An odd mix of senses between the frigid night and the heated pool. The alcohol settled like a hot brick in your stomach. All of these sensations reminded you of how utterly human and expendable you were. It was glorious. It was fleeting.

The heavy weight of a blanket being draped over your shoulders pulled you from your lack of thought. You hadn’t heard the back door slide open, nor Kate’s soft steps. She pulled her shoes off and rolled up the legs of her pants before dropping beside you, close enough for you to nail her spiced scent.

“You could catch your death out here. Weather like this.”

You frowned up at the sky. It was easy to smell the ice in the air. Clouds were gathering and there was snow collected at the edges of the property, ice on the leaves. But the wind had settled. Your breath puffed out in smoke. Kate’s was much more sporadic. Perhaps if you stayed out all night with your toes damp, maybe you would.

“Just needed a moment. I’ll clean up.”

“Please, sweetheart. I’m not entirely useless. I’ve done that myself. Even scrubbed the blood from the table.”

You couldn’t stop the look of disbelief that you pinned Kate with. She was smiling devilishly at you, plucking the glass from your hands and taking a sip before grimacing. Whiskey was not her drink of choice, and it struck you that she kept it in the house for your benefit and not her own. Little acts of kindness that did not escape your keen eye.

“This is nasty, how do you drink it?” She thrust the glass back in your hand, took in your raised eyebrow and frowned. “Okay. Silent hint taken.”

Another lapse of silence before her raspy voice filled it once more.

“I would never let her have you.”

“Kate,”

Her hand was on your chin, not something rough, but something guiding and strong. “No, I need you to know this. For centuries my mother has gotten everything she wants by means of injustice. She’s taken everything from me in terms of manipulation. I’ve never cared to fight before. But that’s all I want to do now.”

She dropped her hand into her lap, her head falling with it, a frown etching it’s way onto her features. If you weren’t so close you wouldn’t be able to hear her. To smell the way the chlorine mixed deliciously with the blood on her breath.  

“She thinks you a weakness and perhaps you are.”

In one quick movement, with the same swiftness that she’d used at dinner, she was on top of you. Your back against the cold of cement and her hand cradling the back of your head. The glass of bourbon spilled across the patio. A gasp escaped you. She was warm compared to the nights frigid temperatures. Her knee was slotted at your core. Her canines glossed in the moonlight. She panted out in feral growls.

“You have no idea what you do to me.” Her groan mixed with your own as you arched into her. “I can’t keep pretending.”

“Pretending,” You puffed out, exposing your throat to her. “what are you pretending?”

She hid her face there, nosed along your jaw but didn’t bite. You wanted her to bite. Wanted the familiar extasy of her teeth deep in your jugular. Instead, you felt the wetness of her tears, molten hot. Your fingers bravely found their way to her hair, carding through them as you held her closer to you.

“You make me weak.” She repeated into your skin. “You make me remember what it feels like to be loved. And it’s all the more fucked because it’s by my own design. It’s not by your will. Perhaps you should go with the Romanovs, if not to break my relentless hold on you.”

“Your hold on me?” You scoffed, “Katherine Bishop, I don’t think you could extract me from your veins if you tried.”

She glowered up at you, staring from between your breasts with the petulant pout of a child. You swept some hair behind her ear. She clearly didn’t believe you, fingers toying with a necklace that she had given you a year ago with her own initials engraved in the purest of gold. A marking. A claim.

“Kate, you gave me purpose. I fought you tooth and nail on it because part of me figured you’d give up on me just like everyone else had. But you never did. Five years later and you still haven’t. Eleanor might see that as weakness, but I’ve never felt anything stronger.” Your voice had faded to a whisper, the affection in her gray eyes undeniable. Breathtaking. “If I didn’t want to be here, I would have found a way to push you too far, trust me.”

There was still doubt there, something lingering. Something that you figured yourself bold enough to kiss away. You pulled her up towards you, hungrily pressing your lips against her own. She was certainly stronger, but much more pliable in this moment, allowing you to lick into her mouth and savor the tinny taste. The sharpness of her teeth. You swallowed her whimper, the vibrations in her chest.

“You don’t have to pretend.” You pulled away, reveled at how she chased your lips. “I haven’t been.”

She moaned, grinding her knee down against your core again. “Don’t get so cocky, pet. You might have me wrapped around your finger, but I still own you.”

And oh, how she did. Your heartrate picked up at the very statement, thighs rubbing together. She heard all of it. Her signature smirk overtaking her crestfallen expression. The Katherine Bishop you knew and loved, and served as a faithful familiar may have been in love with you, but you were equally as smitten.

[thelastchappie]

Coming out as an a/b/o fiend to say i have this headcannon that maybe curses in jjk have abo-ish tendencies.

Mentions of scenting and scent marking.

(i apologize if i jump from past to present tense im doing my best and time means nothing to me). The PoV might switch around bc idk what im doing.

Anyways i hope you like it idk if it’s any good this was more of a self-indulgent thing that got carried away.

part 2

~

Choso had acclimated to his human vessel while among other curses. But imagine him after everything, post Shibuya Incident let’s pretend the tragedy wasn’t as tragic for sanity’s sake, his world is turned upside down and his loyalty now to his newly discovered brother Yuuji.

And as a consequence to this new familial connection, came an involvement in the jujutsu world, and by proxy, the human world.

Everything was different once again, humans didn’t seem to pay much mind to the small things like changes in scent, or how much of their own scent they left behind. Not that humans projected much of a scent to begin with. Stress sweat, hormone fluctuations, blood, the odd moment of arousal he’d rarely catch; none of the nuance and depth he was used to.

While an adjustment, if it meant he would be allowed to see his brother, then the half-curse would take it all in stride. He didn’t care to fraternize with most of the humans around anyways. Choso thinks they probably don’t want much to do with him either, only kept around because he’s too dangerous to just be let go. He assumes his blood connection to one of their students makes getting rid of him… complicated. As it stood, Choso could count on one hand how many sorcerers were willing to come into close proximity with him.

And then there’s you.

A well-ranked, well-respected Jujutsu sorcerer to whom he’d been handed over like a possession to be traded off. The higher ups were displeased with the idea of Choso keeping permanent residency at the school, and of course they’d take the opportunity to stress that the half-curse ‘could not be trusted without supervision’.

Your technique gave the elders reassurance you could hold your own if you needed to defend yourself against Choso’s Blood Manipulation. So without much more thought or consideration, not even towards you, he was sent off to live with you indefinitely.

It’s clear you weren’t considered in the decision, you’re not even prepared to provide space for another human-ish being. You live in a one bedroom apartment- not uncomfortable by any means, but clearly not meant to be shared by two essential strangers.

It’s an adjustment for the both of you, this very odd new living arrangement. But Choso can see, beneath the tense shoulders and clipped attempts at conversation, that you really are trying to make the half-curse feel comfortable in your home. His new home, which is an odd thought but nonetheless true until further notice.

~

“Where are we going today?” A low voice, coming from the kitchen doorway, startles you from your morning routine of staring straight the wall while you drink your coffee.

“Hm?”

“You have a mission today, yes? Where?” Straight to the point, as always. The half-curse ‘needs’ to be under constant supervision, which means your missions are his missions. Wherever you go he follows, for the most part. It had become quite common to see you roaming the halls of Jujustu Tech, with a second shadow marching diligently behind you. Unnerving for most of the sorcerers around, but you had already grown accustomed to the second set of footsteps. Even if out of necessity, the tense atmosphere had finally begun to fade after a month or two, just slightly.

His unwavering stare, while not looking surprised at your wandering mind, still serves to remind you he’d asked a question.

“Ah-“ You clear your throat. “Actually i’m pretty sure Yuuji is stopping by with Gojo. You’re with them today, that sounds nice, right?”

Choso does enjoy the prospect of spending the day with his brother. Only getting to see the teen when lucky enough to run into him at the school, or on the odd occasion when your mission for the day is to sub in as a teacher for Yuuji and his classmates. So to be allowed an entire day with his brother? He should be ecstatic.

But something in the back of his mind won’t let him bask in that small luxury he’s been given.

An itch that wasn’t there before.

After a prolonged amount of time in your now-shared apartment, Choso began allowing more and more of his scent to linger around the space. Marking things; leaving his trace in the couch cushions he sleeps on most nights, hand towels in the kitchen, and most heavily around the doorway.

All of it serving little purpose aside from bringing the half-curse comfort, humans lacking the senses to detect his attempts of claiming his space. But it helps the raven haired man to feel he belongs in the place he was forced into. He doesn’t even think you’re aware he’s doing it, doesn’t know if humans even know it’s a thing.

Which brings him to his current dilemma. He’s not sure when it’s happened, hasn’t been allowed to be apart from you long enough to notice. And now, faced with reality of you going off on a mission without him; it’s the only thing he can think of.

He hasn’t scented you.

Choso can’t pinpoint why it matters, but the thought of leaving without covering you in his scent has his chest tightening and his hands threatening to shake. He’s always respectful of you and your belongings, not wanting to be bold enough to mark things that aren’t his.

Up until now it hadn’t been significant, he’s always in close proximity; his scent always nearby, even if not on you. And maybe that’s why he hadn’t noticed before; the shift in perspective. The need to have you smelling like him, a warning sign to the outside world. He’s not sure what he’s trying to warn against just yet. But it’s an urge stronger than breathing, and he’s sure he’ll die if you walk out that door without a hint of him on you.

Like a gift from the universe, his spiraling thoughts are interrupted by a soft, still tired voice.

“Not to be rude or anything but..” You hesitate, biting your lip and Choso tracks the movement with keen eyes, barely noticing the way your hands come up to gesture towards your own head. “Your hair, did you- are you planning on going like that? it’s just they’re a little… uneven” Your voice trails off.

Truthfully, Choso had simply not let down his hair from the day before in the hopes it would still be acceptable today. Though the strands he feels sticking out from each pigtail inform him he was not successful. But the dark-haired man feels something, maybe a little shameful crawl up his spine at the opportunity presented.

“Yes, i suppose i haven’t had much practice.” He admits bashfully- not a lie but not entirely truthful. He’s grown adept at schooling his own hair into its signature style. He hopes you don’t notice this fact, along with the heat beginning to flush his ears.

“I was hoping i could ask for your assistance?” He tries, his monotone voice carrying an air of hesitation that’s hard to ignore.

“Oh! Of course, yeah i can do that!” You jump, seeming eager to help. Always willing to help him navigate the intricacies of the human world. Always willing to explain anything, from the smallest social nuance to important customs he wasn’t completely aware of; eyes full of kindness instead of contempt.

He never really stood a chance, he realizes.

“c’mon, i need you to sit over on the couch if you want me to reach” You add while walking past him to exit the kitchen, a hand reaching up to lightly nudge his shoulder in direction of the living room.

Choso takes a moment to swallow the saliva pooling in his mouth before he trails behind you, as he always does.

This time thankful that you can’t smell the way his scent begins to roll of him in waves, practically smothering the entire apartment. Notes of it growing warm and heady, even if just to himself. Meant to be alluring, enticing; now it serves to remind Choso of his impropriety as he stalks closer and closer.

To any curse in the nearby vicinity it would be a statement, clear and undeniable.

Choso intended to court the human sorcerer.

[yandereunsolved]

Breath of a Yandere - ,, Yandere Wild headcanons

cw(s): yandere themes, (Wild) multiple mentions of suicidal ideations/suicide and self depreciation

ꨄ︎ Yandere Wild who met you after waking up in the Shrine of Resurrection. You were a lone traveler from Lurelin Village. You traveled countless months, with many others accompanying you at various points on your journey. You had to know the truth. You had to know if it was true. The rumors about the legendary hero fueled your adventures. You feared the worst, but you found him. He didn't awake at first. You spent weeks traveling out of the Shrine only for necessities.

ꨄ︎ He heard a strange voice coming from the darkness and then saw you. You spoke to him with such a reverence that he wasn't accustomed to. He was incredibly cautious and wouldn't allow you near him. That all changed when you offered him some glazed meat. He shoved it down his throat and suddenly you were his closest companion.

ꨄ︎ Words never leave his mouth. You thought at first it was just the surprise of awakening after a hundred years, but no. He just never spoke to you. He spoke with his hands and through his body language. He taught you most of the Hylian sign language that you know. It is probably better that he doesn't speak. You would be disturbed and greatly flattered about the things he thinks about you.

ꨄ︎ He never leaves your side unless you are both put in a life ending situation. He's like a silent but loyal dog. He is always watching your movements and standing guard over you. You have to cuddle with him before he finally allows himself to succumb to sleep.

ꨄ︎ Guardians? You are staying behind. Shrines? You may stand at the entrance as long as there are no monsters around. If there are then he will kill them and then make you wait. The Divine Beasts? Okay, fine— he allows you in all the Divine Beasts except for Vah Naboris. He allows you to ride with Riju but only because she has the Thunder Helm. However, the Ganonblights? On Hylia's name, no. You go back to the entrance and wait there.

ꨄ︎ Ganon himself? You wait. After your entire journey together, he only speaks one word to you. "Wait." He presses himself against you and makes you hide behind one of the castle pillars. There are tears in his eyes and he is shaking. You are his God(dess). He has killed and sacrificed so much. You saved him. You did. He signs to you. "I face Ganon alone. I can't lose you." His hands get shaky. "I love you."

ꨄ︎ That's the first time he ever says he loves you and his yandere tendencies only get worse from there. More possessive. More obsessive. More puppy-like. He's a wolf in sheep's clothing. He always has an eye on you and doesn't allow you out of his sight. He would never hurt you, but he'll hurt others for you.

ꨄ︎ After the battle you two embrace each other and he sobs quietly into your chest. He allows you to patch his wounds. It's difficult because he's hanging off of you. Zelda is sitting near you both around the campfire. It's a little a lot awkward because she's seen his entire journey. She has seen his feelings for you blossom. A part of her hurts because she won't have her Link back, but was he ever hers? It was just his duty.

ꨄ︎ His memories may have come back but he only has one person in his heart. That person is you. Zelda wants him to come back as a knight. He signs no. He has to stay near you. He will die without you.

ꨄ︎ He thinks the sweetest and most depraved things in his mind. He is constantly praising you within his mind. He wishes he could speak those words but he can't. So he signs them. He shows them through acts of service. His mind is just a constant track about you. Partially this is because of his knight training. He was trained to protect and serve. He was trained to help the princess. His mind still sometimes slips back into that. It's just you, you, you, danger?, you, you, you.

ꨄ︎ On that note, his trauma is constantly fueling his tendencies and how he sees you as his god(dess). He was a child knight, blames himself for failing to protect everyone before Calamity Ganon gave over, and woke up with zero memories and a mission to save all of Hyrule. You were the first person he met. You were and still are his guide to this world. Sure, you aren't fated to be with him. Sure, it could have been just a mistake— but you are the first person that ever got him. You didn't push him to speak. You took your time in learning how to communicate with him. You respected him not just as the hero but a person.

ꨄ︎ He takes interest in whatever you are interested in. He will go so far as trying to replicate what you are doing. He isn't great at art but he'll do his best to draw what you are doing. He shows it you like an excited little kid. He does little poems as well. They are all about his adoration to you and how much he wants to spend time with you. Sometimes they have some blood splatters on them. Don't think about it too hard.

ꨄ︎ He his naturally cautious when all of these goods things become interrupted with the introduction of The Chain. He is like a frightened animal with his hackles up. He has his mastersword pointed to the strange group. They introduce themselves and he relaxes a little. He stays by your side the entire time and makes sure everyone knows that you are taken by him.

ꨄ︎ It's really, really, really hard for him when you say you want to travel with The Chain. His thought process is like this: heartbreak. My God(dess) wants to be around other Links? Why do they want to put themselves in danger? Why? Why? I have to protect them. I have to. I need them near me. Why do they want to travel? Will they still cook for me and me only...? Or will I have to share? You want to travel to different Hyrules and fight monsters with them? You want to see their Hyrules? What if my Hyrule isn't good enough for you?

ꨄ︎ As much as he hates it— he'd do anything for you. He sets some ground rules though. No letting the others get too close. Stay by his side. Tell him everything. And do not, ever, put yourself in harms way. That has been his number one rule since day one. No getting yourself hurt. That scares him the most. He could live without you, but you are alive. He'd barely be alive but he could live. If you died? He'd kill himself and die right next to you. So when you get a scratch he wants, needs, aches to kill the thing that gave you that scratch.

ꨄ︎ You both begin traveling with The Chain and it goes better then expected. Wild is still the same Wild. He may even be getting a little better. The Chain is a bunch of hims. Wild is doing better in a way. He's gotten close to everyone and now knows some of their secrets. He's quiet and he listens. They are unassuming of him. Even the more cautious ones such as Hyrule, Legend, and Time bring their guard down a little. He rarely communicates with them but you know he is acutely listening. He only really signs to you.

ꨄ︎ So, it's perfect. There are a bunch of hims that stay away from you and protect you. He is getting them to trust him. You are safer than you have ever been. Safe. So safe. And if he needs to kill them for you? He's already got the information on them.

ꨄ︎ Wild always buys you things from the villages you all go to. He runs up to you and shoves them into your hands happily. It's one of the few times you see a smile on his usually stoic face. He absolutely adores buying you matching fits. He's practically bouncing on the balls of his feet. He loves matching with you. He even gets you a sword that mimics the mastersword in style. He teaches you how to wield it and everything.

ꨄ︎ He sabotages the others in The Chain if they try to spend time with you. He'll tell you things about them, dark things that he's learned. He'll write them out to you and slip them into your back pocket, your satchel, your bed roll. He'll make them look stupid in front of you. He might accidentally trip them or outbest them in sparring. He makes sure you see the worst of them and the best of him. He doesn't need words to steal your heart all for himself.

ꨄ︎ He always wakes up early and watches you sleep. He tries to resist your warmth to not fall asleep but it's too much. So he wakes up in the morning before you. He watches silently, unblinkingly. He thinks you look so adorable, so pretty, so handsome. You are even more angelic when you are awake. Your smile could even make Ganon fall to his knees.

ꨄ︎ He either makes breakfast for you or with you. He sits guard while you bathe in the river. He wants to take a peek but he doesn't! He's a loyal man. He's tempted. Very tempted though. He loves watching you do your skincare and getting ready though. His eyes rarely leave you while in eyesight.

ꨄ︎ His habits reach their most overbearing after Sage joins The Chain. His life was going so perfect with you. You got protection and he got you all to himself. Now, there's this new version of him. He is acting so... clingy towards you. He just seems so attached to you. Wild begins to get shooed away when Sage is near. You are all about being near Sage. Saving Sage.

ꨄ︎ He refuses to leave your side, even for a moment. He distances himself from the rest of The Chain. He begins to not eat. He begins to not sleep. He gets very nervous and becomes a wreck. He thinks if he does this to himself you'll love him. You loved him when he was like this before. Is this what you want? Do you want someone that needs you? He needs you more than anyone else. He doesn't see any reason to live anymore without you.

ꨄ︎ Like always, you save him. You save him from that dark place and refuse to leave his side. He cuddles into you and refuses to let you go. You feel guilty and you are worried sick about him. Wild almost died and he refuses to tell you why. You were sparring with Sage and suddenly you heard a sword slash in the woods. Wild stabbed himself in the heart with a sword... If it wasn't for Hyrule he'd be dead.

ꨄ︎ You sobbed for hours over his body and you refused to leave. You still do. You are beginning to succumb to his neediness and overprotective ways. Just like Wild wanted. He just needs to be wanted by you. He just needs your love. He just needs one person who will love him above all else.

ꨄ︎ Wild has you, but at Sage's expense. He's extremely irritated that this little boyfriend of yours is taking you away from him. A few of the other Links have mixed, upset, and possessive feelings as well. However, we'll discuss that another time.

[aphroditelovesu]

Yay! I'm so happy you write for Baldwin IV!!! Could you do general yandere headcanons for him? Thank you!💗

''Nothing is more important to me than you.'' — Baldwin IV.

❝ 📜 — lady l: I got a little excited, but I hope you like it. I've always wanted to write for him and I finally got the chance! Good reading and forgive me for any mistakes! ❤️

❝tw: obsessive and possessive behavior, mention of murder, manipulation (sorta of), unhealthy relationships.

❝📜pairing: yandere!king baldwin iv/leper king x gender neutral!reader.

Baldwin had always been shy in his obsession with you, always self-aware of his illness that had left him forever disfigured. He was afraid that you would find him disgusting, that you would hate him and he didn't want that. Baldwin couldn't handle it if you hated him. He wanted to be loved by you, but he was too afraid to talk to you directly for quite some time.

So he remained in the shadows, hidden and longing for you from afar. Even before becoming King, he already dreamed of you and these desires only became more frequent after he became sovereign. He was precocious and maintained a good shape and physical appearance and was optimistic about his illness, but as he grew older he felt increasingly disturbed by the idea of you hating or despising him.

That doesn't mean he ignored you, Baldwin never did that and never will. He can't bear to be away from you, at least not physically, and he can't even go without talking to you. Talking to you was what cheered him up when his mind was consumed by dark thoughts. You were his light.

Baldwin will make sure that once he becomes King, he can ensure that you are well, that you are living well and with the honor, the wealth that you deserve, in his domain. He will do everything in his power to make sure you are eating well and will even go so far as to offer you an official position, if you don't already have one, so he can take care of you.

Although he prefers to stay away so he can also protect you from his illness, that doesn't mean he will allow you to be taken away from him. You may not know it, but you belonged to him. Any love interests or potential suitors/lovers will be quickly and quietly dealt with. Baldwin is not cruel and does not intend to be, but he will become a monster for you.

If he could, Baldwin would marry you, but due to his illness, he is prevented from doing so, so he prefers to keep you close while giving important positions to you or your family. It's a way of ensuring the loyalty of those important to you and having you close by. There are only benefits from his perspective.

Baldwin is remembered and admired for being a competent king who brought prosperity to the Kingdom of Jerusalem, but little is known that the real motivation was you. It was you who held power over him, who influenced him to do anything you wanted. He could become a tyrant if you asked him to. But he feels proud of himself for having met your expectations for his government.

When he has to go out to protect and defend Jerusalem, Baldwin will probably take you with him. He could leave you to take care of State affairs, but he can't bear to be away from you. He is quite clingy although he doesn't always touch you physically, he still needs to be in your presence. It's a constant need, Baldwin feels like a part of his heart withers when he's away from you.

Baldwin may not be able to be with you the way he would like and this has only served to increase his possessive tendencies. He won't allow other people to get too close to you, to steal you from him. Even though you can't officially be his, that doesn't mean he'll let you be someone else's. He will have no problem sending the person who threatens his position in your life to a deadly skirmish, arrest or even executed.

He is neither cruel nor sadistic, but for your sake he will be willing to commit the most heinous crimes just to ensure that you remain by his side. Baldwin needs you like he's never needed anyone before and he knows he'll be destroyed if anything happens to you.

If it were to happen to him, Baldwin will make sure you are safe and protected, perhaps even naming you his Heir. He wouldn't want to leave Earth without you, but he's not selfish enough to want to kill you. He wants you to live a long and happy life, preferably single, even if he's not by your side. He is completely selfless and you will always come first for him. First you and then his duties.

There is nothing he wouldn't do or give to you. Titles, official positions, riches, clothes, jewelry and food in abundance, anything you wanted, he would do it in the blink of an eye. Baldwin trusts you blindly, going so far as to obey your orders on any issue, from food to military matters.

Baldwin IV is a great soft for you and you only. He may seem weak, but that's all he isn't. He is intelligent and knows how to make rational decisions and he will do that with you. Because he loves you, he depends on you and because you are his hope. His light. Don't leave him or Baldwin will go crazy and even go so far as to commit suicide if you abandon him.

You are his greatest strength and his greatest weakness.

[auren-zagarra]

Hello I actually found you through your recent riddle mommy kink post and I was actually surprised and happy to see it was a psychological analysis! My pals and I aren’t pros but we do have a big interest in psychology and mental health so sometimes we have fun trying to figure out what the characters “have”.

That being said, we think at least a few characters might have adhd. Kalim and deuce, but also more controversially Floyd. I sometimes get met with “nah Floyd is just a jerk” to which I reply “you can have adhd and be a jerk” lmao. Obviously we believe the symptoms for all the lads just express themselves a bit differently per individual.

Do you have any thoughts?

ADHD: A deeper look into Deuce, Floyd and Kalim's brains

Disclaimer: Although this post is written by a professional psychologist, it is not intended to serve as a formal diagnosis. Rather, it is a character analysis of Deuce Spade, Floyd Leech and Kalim Alasim, created out of personal interest and passion for world-building. In psychological practice, accurate assessment should never be based solely on external observation.

Author Notes: Hello! I decided to answer this ask because it’s a genuinely interesting one - and I’ve actually outlined neurodivergent profiles for both Deuce and Floyd before as a little hobby. That said, I’d like to kindly remind you to be a bit more mindful of the rules in the future. I usually cover one character at a time, as noted in the guidelines. I truly didn’t mind doing this request - it was fun to explore, and I kept it fairly surface-level... but if you’re ever hoping for a more in-depth analysis, please make sure to follow the rules.

I hope this doesn’t come off as rude! Thank you for understanding. 💙

What is ADHD

Attention-Deficit/Hyperactivity Disorder (ADHD) is a neurodevelopmental condition characterized by persistent patterns of inattention and/or hyperactivity-impulsivity that impair functioning. According to the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders (DSM-5) criteria, these symptoms must last at least six months in multiple settings and cause difficulties at school, work, or social life.The DSM-5 outlines symptoms under two core categories:

Inattention: frequent careless mistakes, difficulty sustaining attention, seeming not to listen, not following through on tasks, disorganization, avoiding tasks requiring sustained mental effort, losing things, distractibility, and forgetfulness.

Hyperactivity and Impulsivity: fidgeting, leaving the seat when remaining seated is expected, feeling restless, difficulty engaging in activities quietly, talking excessively, blurting out answers, difficulty waiting turns, and interrupting others.

Deuce Spade is described on the wiki as a hardworking, straightforward first-year student in Heartslabyul who “is very serious, but a little disorganized”. He is competitive and morally upright, and although he used to be a delinquent, he now strives to become an honors student. Deuce is noted for giving his best effort and having strong self-awareness about improving himself. These traits suggest he is generally focused on his goals. However, the wiki also notes that Deuce “had sharp tongue and often got involved in fights” as a delinquent, and that he can be “easily provoked” with violent tendencies when angry.

Arguments pro ADHD: One possible ADHD-related trait is the mention that Deuce is “a little disorganized”. Disorganization can reflect difficulties with executive function and organization, which are common in inattentive ADHD. His quick temper and history of impulsive aggression might also hint at impulsivity. However, it is important to note that Deuce’s aggression is described as reactive. The wiki explicitly says he “only picks fights when provoked”, implying his actions are deliberate responses rather than spontaneous impulsivity. 

Arguments against ADHD: On the other hand, most of Deuce’s character descriptions contradict ADHD traits. He is depicted as hardworking and goal-oriented, actively trying to improve himself, and possessing strong moral understanding. These qualities suggest good focus and motivation. Deuce’s awareness of his own flaws and his conscious effort to become better (e.g. working to be an honors student) indicate organized thinking and planning. Furthermore, the only impulsive behavior noted – fighting when angry – is context-specific and controlled. In summary, aside from a brief mention of being “a little disorganized,” Deuce’s canon portrayal emphasizes diligence and deliberate action, which are inconsistent with a typical ADHD profile.

Floyd Leech is a second-year Octavinelle student whose personality strongly suggests ADHD-like behavior. The wiki describes him as initially “very laid back and lazy”, with an unpredictable attitude and speech. Crucially, Floyd exhibits pronounced mood swings and impulsivity: “he won’t hesitate to drop something and leave the scene if he decides it’s boring or not worth the time/effort”. On the other hand, when something does catch his interest, he becomes “somewhat dedicated” to it. This pattern - abandoning unstimulating tasks and hyper-focusing on exciting ones - mirrors ADHD tendencies to lose interest quickly and focus intensely only on preferred activities. Furthermore, the wiki notes that “he’s prone to doing things on impulse simply because he wants to do them”. He is also described as having a nearly photographic memory for information he finds interesting, but “quickly forgets it” if he’s not interested, again reflecting selective attention. Floyd’s hobbies and talents also indicate high physical activity: he lists dancing as a hobby, talented at parkour and his pet-peeve is restrainment. This suggests restlessness and an “on-the-go” energy consistent with hyperactivity.

Arguments pro ADHD: Floyd’s behaviors align closely with DSM-5 criteria. His tendency to abandon boring tasks and act on impulse corresponds to inattention and impulsivity symptoms (e.g. avoidance of tasks requiring sustained effort, acting without thinking) while his memory pattern (remembering only what interests him) reflects distractibility. His physical restlessness (parkour, dancing) matches hyperactivity (as if “driven by a motor”). The wiki explicitly notes he has “infamous mood swings” and unpredictable behaviort. All these point toward a combined ADHD presentation.

Arguments against ADHD: The main counterpoint is that Floyd is described as lazy and laid-back, which might seem opposite to the typical hyperactive image. However, this can be reconciled: ADHD individuals often appear lazy or unmotivated when tasks are not engaging. Floyd’s laziness could simply reflect boredom. In fact, the evidence of his high energy when motivated (parkour, dancing) suggests that under the right stimulation he is anything but lazy.

Kalim Al-Asim, the Scarabia housewarden has a cheerful and friendly personality but also shows some traits that could be misread as inattentiveness. The wiki describes Kalim as “quite ditsy and clumsy,” requiring Jamil to help him with dorm duties. He is also noted to be “not very careful with his words,” once unintentionally insulting another student. These qualities - clumsiness, distractibility, and impulsive speech - might superficially resemble inattentive or impulsive ADHD symptoms (e.g. forgetfulness, saying things without thinking). Kalim’s hobby of partying and his large, active family environment suggest he is socially energetic.

Arguments pro ADHD: One could argue Kalim’s need for assistance (Jamil “needing to help him do his task”) indicates executive-function weaknesses, and his obliviousness could hint at inattention. His clumsiness and occasionally saying things without thinking might be seen as signs of distractibility or impulsivity. The combination of being lively (he loves parties) and somewhat scatterbrained could fit an ADHD inattentive profile.

Arguments against ADHD: Kalim’s infantilization during childhood could very well explain his clumsiness and apparent lack of awareness, without suggesting a neurodevelopmental disorder like ADHD. Kalim comes from a wealthy, sheltered background where he was deeply adored and protected, often treated more like a treasured figurehead than someone expected to handle responsibilities. This overprotectiveness likely led to:

Underdeveloped executive function skills: Since he didn’t need to manage tasks or face real consequences growing up, he may not have developed the organizational or planning skills others his age have.

Dependence on others (like Jamil): His reliance on Jamil isn't necessarily due to cognitive issues, but because he was never expected to function independently.

Naïveté and impulsive speech: If people always reacted positively to him and rarely corrected him, he wouldn’t learn to filter his words or think critically before speaking.

This kind of upbringing often results in what looks like clumsiness or absentmindedness, but it’s environmental rather than neurological. So rather than ADHD, Kalim’s traits seem more like the outcome of emotional overprotection and a lack of structured challenges during formative years.

Conclusion

In summary, the canonical evidence suggests that Floyd Leech most closely exhibits ADHD-like symptoms, while Deuce Spade and Kalim Al-Asim do not. Deuce is generally focused, diligent, and only mildly disorganized with any aggression being situational rather than impulsive. Kalim shows occasional forgetfulness and clumsiness, but is otherwise mentally sharp and empathetic. In contrast, Floyd’s profile explicitly includes classic ADHD patterns: he abandons uninteresting tasks, forgets mundane information, acts on impulse, and has high physical energy (parkour, dancing) consistent with hyperactivity. 

Don’t forget, this is a simple analysis. You’re free to keep your headcanons - this is just a quick overview of the topic! Please don’t take my analysis as a definitive conclusion, as diagnosing a neurodivergence is complex - especially without actually talking to the individual.

[lokisprettygirl]

Come As You Are (Eric Draven! Bill Skarsgard's Version x Female Reader) (18+) (Slight Au)

Read Chapter 11 here //Series Masterlist

Chapter 12

Summary : Eric realises that Mortality is a blessing and a curse, same as immortality. Melody's fiance turns up.

Warning: 18+, smut, dirty sexual thoughts,, Description of self harm, dry humping, drug use, Eric is a past drug addict with suicidal tendencies, self harm, use of cuss words, description of claustrophobia, reader is in her early thirties, mention of sexual assault, death and murder, Consumption of alcohol and weed, periods

“Okay i made the plate, can you go give it to her?” You said to him as you served the lunch on three plates, Chicken Alfredo because Eric loved it so much the last time you had made it for him, you accompanied it with a side of veggies that you wanted for yourself. When he didn't respond you looked behind,

“Eric?” he snapped out of his thoughts as he walked towards you.

He was slightly distracted at the moment. He saw it, it was red, his blood had turned red. He had been accustomed to seeing his blood in the dark shade of charcoal so no he didn't imagine it in his head.

However he knew he had to make sure of it before he got his hopes high, cutting himself again in front of you was a big no so he knew he had to wait for now.

Eric grabbed the plate you had made for Melody and turned around but you grabbed his arm so he looked at you.

“Hey” you said to him, he was staring at you in that adorable fashion with his brows crinkling.“You're so cute” you complimented him so he chuckled before he shook his head, his pale cheeks flushed in pink even though he acted as if the compliment didn't affect him at all.

Everything you said to him, did for him, did to him, it affected him in ways he couldn't even begin to describe.

Last night you told him that you'd just leave if he wanted to go back to his ex, you just wanted him to be happy even if it wasn't with you, even if it hurt you immensely, that was a selfless thought on your part, maybe that's what triggered the remission?.

God you really loved him didn't you? It wasn't how Melody loved him where her actions at the end didn't match her words, you really did love the heck out of him.

As he entered his apartment, Melody was in his bedroom lounging on his bed, wearing his clothes because she didn't bring any luggage with herself, she had left it at the hotel she had been staying at.

He put the plate down on the dresser so she looked at the food and then turned to her phone.

“I'm ordering something healthy, gotta watch my weight” she said, her voice nonchalant so he shrugged.

“It's just chicken, veggies and some pasta.. nothing unhealthy about it” he said to her so she looked at him and rolled her eyes.

“No.. my stomach is still sensitive from the food last night so no thankyou..I'll manage”

She said to him, making his jaw clench in response. Just the thought of someone disrespecting the food you made so blatantly boiled his blood, especially when he knew how much you loved cooking and how good you were at it, besides you didn't really have to feed her but you did, that's just the kind of person you were, you fed him often even though he was an asshole in the beginning of your friendship with him.

The irony of the situation wasn't lost on him, six years ago he'd have fought the universe for the woman in front of him, now he wanted to snap at her because she was being mean to you for no reason.

“I'll tell her to not bother anymore then” he said as he grabbed the plate and turned around to storm out before he'd hear another word out of her ungrateful mouth.

As he entered your apartment you were on the couch waiting for him, you had dimmed the lights and put on some candles.

“Let's have a date” you said to him so he walked towards the couch and put her plate down before he kissed you softly. “What happened?” you questioned as you looked at the full plate he brought back with him.

“She's not hungry” he lied, though you could tell that wasn't the truth, the thing was you didn't really care.

“Well more for us then” you said softly so he smiled before he looked at the candles.

“I'm supposed to be taking you out on dates sweetheart”

“Who says that?” you asked

“It's a gentleman thing to do, though I'm not sure if I even fall into that category” You leaned forward to kiss him as he said that .

“You're the most gentle man i have ever known” he chuckled as you said that.

Well you wouldn't be saying that if you saw him killing people so mercilessly when he had to..

“And you're the most delusional woman I have ever been in love with..so pretty but so delusional” his voice lowered down a pitch as he said that, making you feel all warm and tingly.

“Shutup and eat”

After lunch, you had to kill the time somehow so you put on a movie, it was something you really enjoyed doing with him. However in the middle of the movie as he began to run his fingers over your bare thighs mindlessly you got turned on immediately, you didn't think he was doing it on purpose as he was engrossed in the plot unfolding in front of him. As he caught you staring he turned his head to give you a smile before he kissed your forehead first and then your cheek.

“Do you not like this movie?” He asked you so you smiled.

“It's fine..you're just prettier to look at” you said as you straddled him and cupped his cheeks to kiss him so he moaned into your mouth, the sound was like gasoline to the fire already burning into your core.

You couldn't help but grind your hips over his crotch, his fingers curled around your throat as he let out a strangled moan. But then you both heard it, the sound of the elevator whirring and he immediately put you down on the couch to go check who it was.

You sighed deeply as you tried to calm down from the intense moment of ecstasy you were experiencing.

It was just some doordash delivery guy, she had ordered food for herself but you didn't blame him for being on guard all the time. There was a threat looming over his head and he didn't want to fail again.

Once he returned you pulled him to the bedroom and cuddled him but it turned into a nap for you, he was waiting for this exact moment so as you fell asleep Eric waited for you to fall deeper into your slumber before he got himself out of your tangled body as sneakily as he could.

He reached for his jacket he had left on the chair and pulled out the razor blade from the hidden pocket before he went inside the bathroom and locked the door.

“Okay..” he mumbled to himself, squeezing his eyes shut before he ran the tip of the blade over his forearm, wincing as he sliced the layers of his skin, blood dripping into the sink.

“Please be red.. please” he mumbled as he opened his eyes finally.

A smile graced his features as he looked at the red liquid covering the white porcelain sink. He leaned forward and placed his palms at the edge of the sink before he looked up, thanking the gods or whosoever was responsible for it. Apart from you of course.

Immortality was a curse, he didn't want to live forever, he didn't want to watch you grow old in front of him and then die.

He didn't want to be left all alone.

However the momentarily happiness he had experienced faded as he noticed he wasn't healing as fast as he usually did.

“Fuckkk..fuck fuck fuck nooo”

Okay maybe mortality has its flaws too..

He turned the tap on to clean the mess he had made before he opened the mirror cabinet to find a gauge or something that he could use to press on the wound. He just hoped it would be healed before you're up, he wasn't ready to share this with you yet, mostly because he wasn't quite ready to accept it himself.

Once his soul is bonded with him completely he'd lose his powers right? He'd become alive and human, he'd experience pain and fragility, he'd become vincible again.

How would he protect you if he was weak in front of death again?

He stood there over the sink for minutes and the wound finally healed after what felt like hours even though it's barely been a few minutes, so he still healed faster than normal people but he knew he was losing his special abilities slowly.

After cleaning the mess he went back to the bedroom and stared at your sleepy form.

Damn you.

You were so precious to him, you loved him so much he was beginning to unite with his soul but how was he supposed to keep you safe when he didn't have those powers that made him the threat he was to his enemies? He was nothing without them, he'd go back to being that scared boy that couldn't save his beloved horse or his mum or Chance or Melody.

You turned around as you felt the emptiness and glanced at him with your heavy lids so he smiled before he climbed into the bed with you.

“Do you always watch me sleep?” you asked him softly.

“Guilty ..you can't blame me for that”

You smiled as he said that but you were soaking wet right now and you didn't want him to know that. You had the sexiest sex dream about him just now, right in this bed, he was pounding into you from behind, his one hand keeping your head pressed into the mattress while the other one stayed on your hips.

You were going to kiss him but then you heard the faint sound of elevator thrumming, the closer it came to the eleventh floor the louder was the sound so he immediately got off the bed, after groaning and cursing to yourself you followed behind him

He opened your apartment door and peaked his head out only to see a man walking the narrow hallways seemingly confused. He had a pink luggage behind him in one hand and a bouquet of flowers in the other.

As you joined Eric at the door and saw the man you literally gasped.

“Hey excuse me..can you tell me where Melody Banks is?” He asked you as you seemed approachable because Eric was just glaring at him.

“Yeah ..just knock on that door..shes in there”

You said to him so he gave you a smile before he nodded.

“Thanks …you must be y/n?” He asked you.

“Wow you know my name I see” you giggled awkwardly so Eric crossed his arms and glared at you in confusion.

“Yeah she told me and you must be Eric..helllo ...I'm Bill” he said as he brought his hand forward but Eric just nodded in his usual stoic manner and made no attempt to shake his hand whatsoever.

Bill smiled nervously and just turned around to go knock on the front door.

As Melody opened up she hugged him but her eyes were on Eric. What the fuck?

As they got in you both did the same.

“What the fuck was that?” He said as he ran his hand through his hair in frustration.

“Please tell me you recognised him..he was in that horror movie we watched recently..The Airbnb one..that's Bill Olsson"

Of course you googled him the moment you saw Melody fighting with him on the phone. You were nosy like that.

“I don't give a fuck who he is..she can't just invite random men to my apartment like that.. especially when there's a killer looking for us” he said to you so you hummed.

“Well..It's not..really random though..it's her fiancé” You said to him as you crossed your arms and he got quiet for a moment. He was pissed off you could tell, for what reasons you weren't really sure of yet. He let out a chuckle before his expression turned serious again.

“So I uhhh…I have a few questions for you. Okay? Why are you defending her is one of them and why the fuck are you so excited to see some movie star?” With every word he said he stepped closer to you so you uncrossed your arms and stepped back.

“Ahhh first of all I'm not defending her..I'm just stating random information and I'm not excited at all..it's just weird seeing him in flesh”

“It's weird? That's all? Because I remember you giggling out there and you don't usually giggle do you?” He said as he stepped even closer until you were trapped between him and the door.

“Ummm..are you jealous of him?” you said it, voice so quiet as if you didn't really want him to hear it.

“Jealous of that tall lanky man with no personality..sure I am” he snickered even though he was clearly jealous.

“You know if you haven't noticed he kind of looks like you..maybe you should reconsider your words..that has to mean something right? I mean your ex got herself engaged to someone that looks like her ex-” he interjected mid sentence as you began to ramble. Did you really think he was pissed off about it because of her? He didn't give a shit anymore who she fucked or who she married.

“It's not about her..I asked you a question. Why were you giggling like that in front of him huh? Did he make your heartbeat faster? Maybe made your shy virgin cunt a little wet with his famous aura?”

He brought his hand between your legs so you swatted it away, you were definitely wet but not because of him.

“God i forgot what an asshole you used to be before” you tried to get out of his grip but he placed his hand on your waist to keep you in place.

“I'm being an asshole? How would you feel if I was the one fangirling over some famous chick?” he asked a valid question and of course you'd burn with envy if that was the case.

“I'd worry about your sanity .. more than I usually do–But do you want a real talk here? Lets talk ..let's discuss why you won't fuck me okay?”

He snickered again as you said that, how did it always come to this?

“Because you're a thirty two year old Virgin..you have waited for this all your life, sue me for trying to be a gentleman for once in my life, trying to make it special for the woman I love” you gulped as he said that but you were aroused and sexually frustrated.

“I don't think it's that..I think you just want me to get more desperate for it until I'm begging on my knees for you to fuck me with that gorgeous cock of yours” you raised your voice a little so he grabbed your chin..

“Is that a kink? You want to beg baby? Want to be all submissive and shit huh? You clearly don't respect my gentlemanly behaviour..what do you want hmm? Want me all sleazy and disgusting with you? Trust me I can manage that too” he said to you, his teeth gritting with every word he spoke.

“Yeah I dare you..go ahead”

He grabbed the back of your neck and pulled you closer, his lips clashed with yours as he kissed you roughly, he then picked you up and took you to the bedroom, he almost threw you down on the bed, his usual tender demeanor replaced with harsh touches.

It was jealousy, anger and insecurity all combined in this deadly concoction. He never felt good enough for you and now he was slowly going to lose the one thing that set him apart from the others because you decided to love him for real.

You sat up on the bed but he lowered you down as he placed one of his hands on your shoulder, taking his shirt off in one fluid motion with his other

“Eric-” you mumbled softly so he glared at you.

“What? I'm giving you what you want..are you still going to complain or are you going to be a good girl and take it like the whore you want to be for me?”

Okay that shouldn't have made you as wet as it did..

You really wanted this anger in him to take over and get over with it, you knew it would hurt the first time so you just wanted to rip off the bandaid but then you looked him in the eyes and he seemed…sad?

Why was he sad? Were you making him feel that way?

As his fingers tangled around the waistband of your shorts you grabbed his fingers.

“Eric, stop.. please”

You said to him as you got on your elbows so he stopped immediately and placed his palms over his face to calm down. You got up and grabbed his hands to push it away from his face,

“What is it baby..what's wrong?” You asked him but he kept looking down so you cupped his cheeks and made him look at you. His beautiful eyes were now moist with tears.

“Nothing..i just.. don't want to lose you too” his voice cracked as he spoke.

“Lose me? Baby..I love you, you know that right?”

“Trust me I know that now” he said “It's not that. It's not you..it's always me, I'm not enough, i could never be”

“Not enough? That's crazy talk..I'm sorry I didn't mean what I said, I do appreciate your gentle behaviour with me, trust me I have longed for this from those stupid immature boys I dated before.. and you give that respect to me without asking, you don't treat me like I'm just my body and sex, you are so good to me Eric, baby..you're so good to me.. I feel so beautiful around you when you look at me with those big pretty eyes of yours” you pecked on his lips before you wiped the tears that wetted his cheeks.

“I get frustrated at times..I just desire you so much and I'm a woman, we are cursed with hormones..I want to be yours completely in every possible way, I get wet just by seeing you do the most random things..its unreal how much you turn me on” he couldn't help but smile as you said that.

“I don't have to fuck you for you to be mine.. you're all mine” he said as he caressed your cheek with the back of his fingers.

“I know..I'm sorry”

“I'm sorry too..i shouldn't speak to you like that” he said as he cupped your cheeks and kissed you as he lowered you down on the bed underneath him.

“It's okay..it was hot..”

“Ssshhhh don't say that baby..dont let me disrespect you”

“It's not disrespect if I like it..maybe I'm a freak”

“Mmmhm?” He pulled up your t-shirt over your head, freeing your breasts from the confinement, his mouth immediately latched onto your nipples.

“Do you really want this?” He asked as he kissed down slowly so you scratched his scalp.

“I do..but I want you to take me at your pace..i have had men trying to push me into this and I remember feeling so awful about it, I'd never want you to feel that way” you said to him so he stopped and crawled up to kiss you.

“I just want it to be special, want you to remember it all your life..have a sweet memory attached to it, the one you'd often look back at with a smile”

God you loved him.

Did he really think you'd just forget your first time with him? That was impossible.

********""

“Fuck…I missed you babe” Bill groaned as he collapsed next to her. Melody gave him a small smile

“Me too” she said but her words lacked the same heat he had in his own.

“Are you going to tell me what's going on? Why are you living in this .. uhhh…place?” He asked as he got on his elbow to caress her face gently.

“It's a long story”

“I have time..got myself out of that Nolan's project for the same” he said to her softly.

What's with the men doing her favours and shoving it in her face even though she never asked for it?

“Why would you do that Bill?” She asked as she sat up and stared at him in disbelief.

“We had that nasty fight..i love you, I don't want to ruin us like this..where is the ring by the way?” He asked as looked at her bare fingers.

“I took it off to shower..it's right here” she said as she opened the bedside drawer and put it on so he smiled and kissed her before he hugged her.

In past six years since she left Eric and slowly became more and more popular she dated so many men, she fucked them all too just to get rid of the void Eric had left in her life but none of those men could compare, they didn't look at her or touched her the way he did, Eric had a way of treating her that was so different from the others, she could never replicate what she had with him until she met Bill, another gentle giant with a soft heart, they had the same eyes and nose, if she squinted her eyes enough she could almost see Eric in him.

But he wasn't Eric was he? He had no trauma, no depth, he wasn't beautifully broken. He was just Bill and she had come to realise that, she didn't love him because she was still in love with the man who had given up his soul for her.

🙂🙂🙂🙂🙂🙂🙂🙂🙂🙂🙂🙂🙂🙂

Note : Anyone else feeling bad for sweet Bill or is it just me?

Taglist: @m-riaa @erebus-et-eigengrau @peachychyy @enchantresss97 @fandomxo @mariaenchanted

[caligvlasaqvarivm]

I've been reading your Erikar posts and I think that they work really well with the idea that moirallegiance really doesn't work the way it's "supposed" to. It's framed in-universe as a very one-sided "stable person pacifies dangerous person" deal, but both Erifef and Gamkar, which are basically platonic ideals of that concept, failed independently because of how unstable that dynamic is -- one person is worn out doing all the emotional labor and the other is not interested in being pacified. Whereas the meowrails, despite also being framed as a "classical" moirallegiance, are much more clearly two-sided, as both parties consistently help, listen to, and advise each other, and the relationship is consequently much stabler and more enduring. I love the way you frame Erikar because it works really well with this by showing both parties taking and giving "pacification" and support in turn, instead of one shouldering all the work.

Yeah! I think this is a good way to talk about something Hussie likes to do that I'm a huge fan of, which is: unreliable narration. This unreliable narration has garnered Hussie the reputation of being a "troll" or even flat-out "wrong" about HS, and I find both of these to be very unfair because the use of unreliable narrator is both deliberate AND thematically fitting.

As part of Homestuck's post-modern stylings (and I mean post-modern in the literature sense, not vis. art, though it has shades of that too), it plays heavily on the ideas of narrator-as-character, author-as-character, metafiction, and we-all-know-it's-a-story-itis. Hussie himself, even in his external commentaries (Formspring, Tumblr, Books, etc.), is fully aware that his additions add to the metatextual texture of the work and change how it's interpreted - that, although his additions technically lie external to the "story" Homestuck is telling, they are also paradoxically part and parcel of that very story.

As a result, they deliberately play a character WRT Homestuck, both in- and out-of-universe, and this character is, by their own admission, buffoonish and oafish. It's really apparent in their book commentary, where they'll sometimes even drop the act, or "realize" they've dropped the act and hurry to put it back on (a standout moment is when he provides a very genuine, honest analysis of Vriska, before going "oh, wait, I forgot, she's literally my wife and has never done anything wrong ever in her life ever"). They also mention how their narrative voice sometimes works antagonistically to the characters, such as when it assures Vriska that she has no choice but to kill Aradia, subtly pushing Vriska towards that option.

Functionally, neither the narrator nor the author (and by that, I mean the caricaturized character of "the author" that Hussie plays) of Homestuck are entities that you can take fully at face value; they need to be challenged and interrogated as much as any other character, have their motives dissected, have their blind spots pointed out.

And why would this need to be the case? Because that's literally one of the main thrusts of Homestuck: malicious entities (in HS's case, LE, Doc Scratch, and Caliborn, who at various times struggle with Hussie for control of the story, before killing him and wresting it away entirely) will attempt to write the narrative. They'll push their version of events, their politics, their biases, their philosophies. They'll try to change the story to suit them and perpetuate their own power and ability to enforce that power. And you can't let them win.

Hussie-as-a-character/narrator himself is not particularly malicious, and, as the narrative prompt serving as Caliborn's guide, is even ultimately sympathetic, expressing that kids need to grow up and mature, achieve self-actualization, emotional catharsis, etc.

However, as a result of his oafishness, he has a tendency to play to the characters' worst instincts, to pick favorites among the cast. The most blatant example of this is his "love" of Vriska, which - contrary to popular opinion - isn't "real". Hussie is not actually in love with Vriska; the whole thing started because - due to misogyny - people accused Hussie of only giving Vriska so much plot relevance because he was literally in love with her. Why else would a female character with an unpleasant personality be allowed to be important, amirite? And Hussie clearly thought that this whole thing was so ridiculous that he 100% leaned into it as a joke. I'm not here to litigate whether or not it was appropriate to do so, just to point out that Hussie's "love" of Vriska was always an artifice - an aspect of Hussie-as-character that he played up to highlight the fact that Hussie-as-character is an unreliable buffoon, and, by extension, that Vriska is not blameless and perfect.

Since this is the Eridan blog, I'd be remiss not to talk about him. Hussie's commentary towards Eridan is especially fascinating to me, because Eridan is one of he characters Hussie-as-character is biased against, in a similar way as he's biased in Vriska's favor. Thus, his attitude towards Eridan is very dismissive, both in the book commentary AND in the comic itself. "Gamzee: Indulge emotional theatrics" and "Jade: Answer this douche bag" come to mind. He also spends the vast majority of the Act 5 Act 2 book mocking Eridan for being sad and alone, with nobody to care about him and nobody who listens to his problems.

Now, the reason I call this fascinating is twofold: the first is that his commentary in the Act 5 Act 1 book has a WILDLY different tone: while he's still biased in Eridan's disfavor, he outright calls Eridan a "good character" alongside Nepeta, and offers genuine insight into his characterization and the powers of Hope - comparing him at one point to Dave if Dave took a much darker path.

So when his attitude changes from "he's a shithead, but fairly complex, I guess" to "he's a loser idiot that nobody likes LMAOOOO", you're supposed to notice that! You're supposed to question that, to wonder why he has a change of heart, why he's suddenly so dismissive of a character he was genuinely writing whole paragraphs about before.

And the answer is multifaceted:

He's playing up his buffoonish character, to let you know that he's about to be wrong as hell. Every time Hussie starts really amping up the Hussie-as-character persona, you're about to be in for an opinion that SHOULD NOT be taken at face value.

He's reflecting a common fandom opinion, because one of his favorite things to do as an unreliable narrator is to speak on behalf of another character or entity, highlighting the biases and blind spots in play - in this case, the audience's. Again, he's about to be wrong as hell, so he's doing this specifically to indicate that the audience members who believe this are also wrong as hell.

Act 5 Act 2 is when we get the one conversation in all of Homestuck where somebody (Karkat) cares about Eridan and takes his problems seriously. During this part of the story, Hussie goes COMPLETELY silent. This is incredibly out of character, as he usually can't shut up, and the commentary is usually dense, packed with words, without pause. Compare:

In those blocks of silence are contained the conversation Eridan has with Karkat where Karkat literally tells him "I know it's hard being you" and that Nepeta's rejection of him wasn't a negative reflection of him. In other words, Karkat cares about Eridan and takes him seriously, COMPLETELY contradicting Hussie-as-character's assertions that nobody does, so utterly that Hussie-as-character has to completely shut up during that entire sequence because he has no way of reconciling his stance with the evidence presented.

Now, Hussie-as-an-actual-person is completely aware of what they're doing, or else they couldn't do stuff like this so consistently and so precisely. So I want to be very, very clear that this is not Hussie "not understanding his own story" or whatever BS the fandom likes to say in order to cast Hussie as the villain. This is masterful usage of unreliable narrator, like, I'm genuinely impressed.

By acting a clown and insisting that nobody likes or cares about Eridan, the audience is MEANT to glean from the text:

That Karkat is clearly an exception, and he quite likes and cares about Eridan,

That those who are dismissive towards Eridan and treat him purely as an object of ridicule are Wrong as Hell,

That maybe it's not a good thing for us - both audience, author, and characters - to be so quick to judge and dismiss others just because they're annoying and nasty - that doing so can have dire consequences, as we see with how Eridan's story plays out.

And I'm not kidding when I say that we have to be constantly fucking vigilant, that there's very, very little that can be purely taken at face value. Not long after this is one of Karkat's memos, where he attempts to warn his past friends about all the murders, only to dismiss past!Gamzee by saying that current!Gamzee going crazy murderclown "barely even concerns [him]." Hussie then notes in the commentary - and not for the first time - that Karkat has a Problem(TM) with not seeing past/future versions of people as contiguous with their current selves, which he does as a defense mechanism so as not to confront his own feelings of shame and self-loathing. Hussie then proceeds not to comment on the following:

CCG: YOU ARE DEAD TO ME CCG: PAST YOU, PRESENT YOU, FUTURE YOU CCG: AND ABOVE ALL, UGLY SCARFNECKED DOUCHEBAG HIPSTER YOU CCG: WAIT I FORGOT, ALL OF THE YOUS ARE THAT YOU

Hmmm... interesting. I wonder why Hussie points out one of Karkat's running character traits, just to "forget" to notice when an exception happens directly after? I'll let this one be an exercise for the class.

So to tie it all back to your ask: why is the exposition on troll romance done the way it is? What are the narrator's motives? Hussie even outright states in the commentary that Kanaya/Tavros/Vriska, which is used as an example of an auspicetism, isn't even a real auspicetism, as Kanaya feels no need to commit to it, and at most is putting out mixed signals - it's just used as an example because it's the closest thing we've seen.

Well, the answer I've arrived at, personally, is that the troll romance explanation is as flawed as it is because the narrator is taking on Karkat's point of view. A movie poster on Karkat's wall, the troll version of Serendipity, is used and namedropped as the ultimate expression of meeting your soul mate in every quadrant - as well as the assertion that "every" troll believes that there ARE destined soul mates for every quadrant, which Karkat definitely believes, but isn't a sentiment necessarily shared by everybody else. Moreover, the explanation ends with a tirade about how Karkat tried to explain quadrants to John, who didn't get it because "he's an idiot".

I'm not saying that Karkat is literally narrating here, just to be clear - I'm saying that the narrator (Hussie-as-character) is relaying factual information as processed through the lens of Karkat's biases, and, as a result, we can't take the explanation at 100% face value (though we can't discount it as entirely untrue, either). It's not so much that "real" moirail pairs work because they're doing moirallegiance "wrong," but that Karkat's view of moirallegiance is simplistic, idealized, and flawed, and we see this play out when he's bitter about his breakup with Gamzee because Gamzee stops "needing" him to keep him calm, even after Karkat has failed to be kept calm by Gamzee in return.

The more I look into Homestuck, the more that I'm genuinely impressed by the way it handles its writing. I hope this was interesting to everyone, too. I feel a little like I'm peeling back a curtain, or opening up a clock to reveal all the little cogs and wheels.

No, you can't trust Hussie as the narrator, but that's on purpose, and it's on purpose because why do we trust narrators? Why do we assume people telling a story are unbiased, benevolent, and have no ulterior motives? Why do we let idiots, assholes, predators, and monsters get away with their version of the truth, when a little scrutiny will have the whole ruse fall apart? Why do we let people tell us not to care about other people, why do we let them tell us that it's okay to be cruel to acceptible targets, why do we let them go unexamined?

And how about the stories we tell ourselves?

[edward-cabrini]

How To Write Characters With PTSD

This is your warning that potentially triggering topics will be discussed in this post.

First things first, this is a sensitive topic. Not all experiences of PTSD are the same, some people have very overt struggles others have something more internalized.

Writing characters with PTSD is pretty common. The struggle against personal trauma is very compelling after all. It can also be very cathartic for an author to write such characters. That's not to say characters should always succeed in overcoming their PTSD, not everyone does.

So how exactly does one write such a character? In this post we'll focus on 3 of my characters in my Dark Fantasy series. Lorcan, Maura, Ernin. As we do so I'll break down what their individual symptoms of their PTSD are. I don't think a simple how to guide could cover writing characters with PTSD. Simply googling what is PTSD and how does it present could get you those answers. Whether you agree or disagree with my representation of PTSD I hope you will agree that it is not the the totality of a character, merely one facet that can have a large impact upon them. There is no one size fits all guide for PTSD. It's a varied beast with many heads. Let your characters be vulnerable to it. Have them fight against it. Let them lose.

I will now cover each character and my depiction of their PTSD as it is presented in "The Curse of Want".

Ernin's Story Ernin plays the role of advisor and confidant to Lorcan. Some of that happens off page. What we see on page is someone who through no fault of their own had their family ripped away from them by people she was powerless to stop. Ultimately she had a good and happy childhood until her father was executed. As a fugitive she relied on her brute strength and skills to get by until she joins Fiachra's fian (warband). For an unspecified amount of time she serves in the vanguard of the fian at no point does she mention her traumatic event. Keeping silent on the topic until Lorcan joins the fian. Believing he might have had a similar experience as her. She joins him for training, tests and probes to confirm that he might understand. Only then does she reveal why she wanted to talk to him. This kind of avoidant behaviour is one of many PTSD symptoms. During a game of dice Ernin has more than a few angry outbursts and while that is also a symptom that is not part of her PTSD.

What is, is the gambling addiction. When I write scenes where she is playing dice she is always losing and always ready for another throw often explicitly stating that it's not luck that there is some skill to throwing dice. Ernin survived her ordeal though no small amount of luck. She was lucky to escape the church, she was lucky to run into Fiachra, she was lucky to have found a new home. She can't internalize that it both wasn't her fault and her escape was down to good luck. Otherwise it would mean she was entirely powerless as to her own fate. That feeling is not one easily rectified.

Maura's Story So what about Maura? Like Ernin she had a life outside of the war having grown up on a farm with her family as they they each steadily got drafted until there were too few of them to run the farm and money got tight. Maura exerts a lot of control over environment. She drills her men, she keeps the camp in order, she is Fiachra's right hand in the fian and was amongst his first recruits. What made her this way was her brother kidnapping her and then selling her to the highest bidder. Obviously all control was taken from her in violent fashion from someone she deeply trusted.

Throughout "The Curse of Want" we see her get increasingly irate with Lorcan as he disobeys orders and generally does what he wants without any care. This all stems from her phobia of losing control of any given situation. Unlike Ernin's self destructive nature, Muara's tendencies are a symptom of her PTSD. She actively puts herself in dangerous situations to try and keep some desperate grasp of control. Unfortunately for Maura she relives her experience when she finds a grooming gang. She could have called for guards, she could have called for help from the public, she could have done anything. However, the war she's fought through from childhood to adulthood has ended. Everyone is supposed to be safe. Her, Fiachra, and the fian made it so. As a result of her actions she does rescue the victims but she is now a mess, feelings of shame, guilt, terror, sickness. In an instant, Maura withdraws from everything and everyone believing she has ruined, not just her life, but the lives of her friends. Though she is entirely unharmed physically her mental state is not good, to put it mildly. What I want to point out here is that the breakdown wasn't borne of some spontaneous flashback. Maura has repeatedly exerted control and admonished Lorcan for his wanton murder and reckless behaviour; yet when confronted by her trauma head on she did exactly what he would have.

Lorcan's Story Last but not least we have Lorcan. Ernin and Maura have very internalized PTSD, it's most present in certain situations as they have had the time to try and adjust. Lorcan however is very much so. not in that same boat. He has is own personal post battle rituals to bring himself back to his baseline self. He is very action oriented and violent. He's distrustful and cynical. He makes no attempts to let anyone get close or to be closer to other people.

Lorcan has been through serval ordeals as a child. He grew up with his mother being regularly abused by his adoptive father then she was raped and murdered when illness took over. He himself was beaten by his father and raped by a member of his father's warband. After murdering his father and running away from the warband he roams the frontlines as a mercenary waiting for the next job that may or may not kill him. I don't feel great having to summarize it so succinctly but there is no gentle way to approach Lorcan's trauma. It's front and centre in a lot of his actions and needs stating clearly.

We've already discussed how PTSD can make you more reserved or reckless. There is however another side entirely that is worth considering. Maura faced her trauma in a very direct one to one situation. Lorcan however finds a lone child trying to survive winter by stealing from a wealthy family. It's his job to police the town with the rest of the fian that winter and though he doesn't want to, he must arrest the child. However, he then takes a series or risky actions in order to try and get some money to the boy in order to help. A great deal of Lorcan's trauma stems from his failure to protect his mother and the abuse his adoptive father put him through. Lorcan regularly displays a compulsion to rescue those in need and to murder those who seem to align with his abusers. PTSD doesn't make people good or bad, it just informs their decisions. Lorcan is very good at solving problems with his sword, it's all he's ever known. Unlike Maura and Ernin he was born directly into the war and had no life outside of it's confines.

[gauguinhater69]

Guys, I’ve had Thoughts.

House’s childhood isn’t really explored in a whole lot of depth during the show. The only details we get are some brief mentions of his father’s abuse and the fact that House grew up moving around a lot due to his father serving as a Marine Corps aviator.

I’m pretty sure the only countries that are directly mentioned in the show as being places that House grew up in are the States, Japan, the Philippines, and Egypt. Both of House’s parents are American, as far as I am aware? He also mentions having a Dutch grandmother in One Day, One Room, but I can’t remember if that’s ever mentioned again or if he just said that for the plot. Regardless, this makes House a Third Culture Kid (or TCK).

Third Culture Kid is a term used to describe people who grow up in a culture that's different from their parents' culture or the culture of their country of nationality. TCKs are often children of expatriate workers, including members of the military (like House), or they can also be the result of transnational marriages. TCKs often develop an identity that's based on relationships with people rather than places. 

I feel like this aspect of House’s upbringing explains a lot about his character and why he is The Way He Is. However, I think it was kind of glossed over in canon and could have been dealt with in a really interesting way, but instead they were just kind of like, “Haha, he read manga because army.”

Whether it was intentional by the writers or not, a lot of the ways House thinks, acts, and interacts with other characters is reflective of a TCK childhood. As a TCK myself, I unironically find House to be one of the best-written TCK characters I have ever come across, despite it not being explicitly discussed in the show (genuinely the only other TCK character in mainstream media that I can think of at the moment is Cady Heron from Mean Girls, who is not a good example, sorry girl).

The most compelling aspects of House’s personality, which I believe make him a well-developed representation of what it’s like to grow up as a third culture kid, include:

A complex relationship with authority and rules: TCKs often grow up in environments where they must navigate different sets of rules and authority figures, which could lead to a heightened skepticism about institutional authority. House's disregard for rules, his insubordination, and his tendency to challenge authority figures such as Cuddy, Vogler, Dr. Nolan, and even Wilson at times seem like an indication of a deeper mistrust of systems and structures. House appears to almost compulsively rebel against structure and situations where he is not completely in control, even if he knows that people are trying to help him, as seen in his time at Mayfield.

Alienation of self and others: I feel like this in particular is very central to House’s character and the show. He is constantly pushing the people who care about him away, like Stacy, Cuddy, Wilson, and the Ducklings. He avoids relationships (both romantic and platonic) and emotional connections with the people around him and believes that he is better off relying on himself alone. Many TCKs experience a sense of never truly fitting in anywhere and tend to alienate themselves (whether on purpose or not) because of it.

Detachment and critical thinking: House’s whole thing as a diagnostician is being able to see things from unconventional angles, and his sharp, often brutal, critical thinking is a reflection of this adaptive skill. However, this also contributes to his emotional detachment, as he prioritizes logic and objective analysis over subjective or cultural norms, distancing him from emotional involvement. Being exposed to a variety of different cultures, people, and cultural norms often contributes to TCKs developing the ability to view situations from multiple perspectives and come up with unusual solutions. This could also contribute to House deep desire to figure everything out, this includes the medical mysteries he solves, but also he needs to understand the actions and motivations of all the people around him. He wants to understand and know everything because this gives him a sense of control.

Deep need for control: Growing up in different places, where cultural norms and expectations may have shifted, could have made House feel like he had to assert control over his immediate surroundings to maintain some sense of stability. The trauma he experienced, particularly with his father’s abuse and emotional neglect, likely influenced this desire for control, as he may have associated control with safety and predictability. In addition to this, many TCKs create rigid systems or behavioural processes to compensate for a lack of “home”. House’s fractured sense of identity and personal trauma, which developed as a result of his experiences as a TCK, likely contributed to his need for control in all aspects of his life.

I also think these are all reasons why House is so drawn to Wilson. While Wilson is absolutely as much of a freak as House, he is the most stable and constant thing in House’s life (even more than his job as a doctor is). While medicine is extremely important to House, he works at the hospital on and off, unable to continue his practice while he is at Mayfield, and he ultimately gives up medicine entirely for Wilson. Through all the ups and downs of House’s life, Wilson is there, no matter how hard House tries to drive him away.

House values his relationship with Wilson above pretty much all other things in his life, because Wilson is one of the only constants in House’s life, which is something that House had been lacking before Wilson. House likely had developed the idea that relationships are fleeting due to his constant upheavals as a child, and this may be part of the reason why he is constantly pushing others away to try and save himself the pain of losing people.

However, Wilson keeps coming back no matter what. Despite the fact that House is rude and brash, despite the unhinged pranks, the borderline criminal acts, after House stole Wilson’s prescription pad, after House played a role in the death of Wilson’s girlfriend, again and again Wilson comes back.

I’m going insane, and I think this is very nearly incomprehensible. Does anyone else see the vision?

[hollowed-theory-hall]

sometimes I feel like we’re in the trenches as HJP fans, like wydm he gets flak from the marauder fandom for being mid compared to Jily, Marauders & Co, if not a convenient receptacle for only his parents’ traits, and he’s also getting bashed in the Next Gen fandom for being a bad dad? (again, fingers point to his hotheadedness or impulsive nature, like, what a lazy and unnuanced take but i digress) nevermind he’s undergone plenty flanderization in the general HP fandom!

Harry shaping up to be a terrible parent is plainly ooc for him imo, but I couldn’t bring myself to actually read Cursed Child, so I’m very interested in your thoughts on this!

I never read Cursed Child either, at least not in full. I read a summary + a few lines of dialogue and I felt that I didn't need to torture myself further with it.

Like, I mentioned in the past, a lot of fandoms have this tendency to completely change and mischaracterize main characters, usually for the worse. I think this tendency comes from a place of simplifications. A simplified character is easier to engage with and to place in different fanon scenarios so characters are stripped of their nuance and complexity to serve fanon. And there is an appeal in these simplified versions. They can be good for comedy, crack, and less serious stuff, but when you want to write really angsty shit, I find the lack of nuance disappointing more often than not.

Especially when it comes to Harry, who is often misunderstood by people who claim to love him. As I mentioned in the past, I don't think Harry is hot-headed the way most of the fandom thinks he is. I will die on the hill of Harry's explosive anger being a trauma response because the boy can't get a break.

In the case of Harry, I think it goes beyond just simplification though.

I used to read a lot of HP fic (stopped a few years ago) and Harry was a different character in each "genre" of fics. Like, depending on who he was paired with or the tropes of the fic, you'd get a completely different character who calls himself "Harry Potter".

It's becouse Harry isn't really written as Harry in a lot of fics, not really. See the story is about him. He's the main character who has the most interesting tale. The series is literally named after him. And everyone sees it. And fans want to write a story that won't work with Harry as a character, but they want the backstory — they want to write about a Boy Who Lived that isn't Harry — so we get OCs with the name "Harry Potter" even if I'd never call any of them Harry because they are not him. His story and name are used to make an OC the center of the story, essentially.

Now, I don't mind when people do this. People can do whatever, I'm just not gonna read or engage with it. What bothers me is when people try to pass a Harry who very much is an OC in Harry's skin (although their appearance is also often not that of book Harry, so it's not even the same skin. A pet peeve of mine is when Harry is drawn with brown hair, it just miffs me personally) as the canon one.

And I can somewhat understand where this mistake started, and like with a lot of things I'm not a fan of in this fandom — I blame the movies.

Movie Harry is passive and bland. I think he's a badly written character. But there is a reason for this huge downgrade in Harry's characterization between book and movie.

Movie!Harry was written to be an audience self-insert. Audience self-insert characters are more common in films than in books. In books, the POV characters have to have a personality to be interesting and to be able to carry the book with their internal monologue. They gotta be someone you want to read about. But in film, you can get away with a main character that has no personality at all. And that's what they did to Harry. They turned him into a character the movie audience could project whatever they wanted onto. And I think this was on purpose. So, of course, the audience projected whatever they wanted onto the bland template that is movie!Harry because that's what the movies were written to allow.

So, I think this is part of what caused a lot of the discrepancies in Harry's character. I mean, I'm sure there are a bunch of other factors, and I'm no fandom expert, but, I feel like this self-insert aspect of movie!Harry had a part in what happened to his character in the fandom.

(The negative effect movie!Ron on the portrayal of his character in fanon is similar. Though, this downgrade happened for different reasons called "the director(s) seemed to have shipped Harmony and hated Ron").