#or at least not visibly being emotional

[iztarshi]

Viktor observations (S2, Act 3)

At this point I come to the question of what to do with the Mage. I feel like he should be included in this analysis since he is Viktor (although @xenorat had a theory he was actually the hexcore which is possible) but he’s also very hard to analyse. He’s something that works on an emotional and thematic level for a couple of reasons. First as a sign of what the stakes of this are. In keeping with the Faustian themes, he’s a version of Viktor that is living in eternal torment. As such he’s a motivation for Jayce to try to save Viktor from this fate at all costs even by killing him. Revealing Viktor as the one who saved Jayce as a child also turns their whole story into a rather delicious tangle as their obsession with one another and inability to let one another die creates canon’s tragic timeline by unleashing the Arcane on it.

However, as a character with abilities and motivations, he’s an element of the story that falls apart really quickly when you look at him closely. He’s got too much power and does too little with it. What we’re given is someone who can move across time, space and alternate realities, but only intervenes in one time and place to do slight variations of one specific thing. The closeness of his own timeline to the canon one even suggests he’s intervened in his own past to save Jayce from the blizzard but then never intervened again to try to alter an outcome that has left Jayce dead and Viktor himself suffering.

*

For now the Mage shows himself as a mysterious figure in the apocalypse timeline, apparently to guide Jayce to a vantage point from which he can see that this is Piltover and see all the damage to it.

The damage here appears to be two-fold, with some people turned into the assimilated dolls and others killed by the corruption, leaving pompeii-like statues. The second event, the one that turned people to statues, was presumably Viktor placing the wildrune above the hexgates, as he eventually does in the canon timeline.

*

Ekko explaining that the timeloop is because he was “playing with inversions on Jayce’s acceleration rune” really needs to be a bit more emphasised! It sounds like technobabble especially since it doesn’t mention the acceleration rune is the one on Jayce’s wrist. This is important, because Ekko wasn’t something the Mage predicted, but his ability to build the z-drive is built on which rune Jayce was given in the canon reality.

*

Jayce’s statue seems to be a bit of a middle ground between the dolls and the statues. It’s got doll-like features, but it’s also got more of Jayce’s own features than the dolls typically retain of the people who were made into them.

I don’t think Jayce coming to the apocalypse timeline can be a normal part of whatever the loop is, not unless we’ve got recursive apocalypse timelines, because Jayce takes the hammer from his previous self. If other Jayces had come here and been through the same thing, then presumably only the first of them would be able to take the hammer.

I did wonder whether, if Jayce is possessed by anything, if there really is “another will at work within him”, it’s the last traces of this timeline’s Jayce. Because the statue’s eyes move when it gives him the hammer, which feels a little bit more like a trace consciousness than Viktor controlling it.

I really wish we got the whole conversation with the Mage at once, at some point, rather than bits of it because we don’t find out what Jayce actually promised to do! What we have here implies that the Mage is sending Jayce back to kill Viktor because Jayce is given a weapon. A hextech weapon, at that. Would any version of Viktor be likely to give Jayce the hammer to use on anyone other than himself? But then the later bits we get make it sound like Jayce is meant to show Viktor something so… I don’t know. Maybe the promise was just to stop Viktor from destroying Piltover/the world by any means necessary. (I’m not sure whether he does destroy the world or not, it might be the kind of widespread destruction of a whole area the Rune Wars caused rather than an actual apocalypse.)

Viktor seems reluctant to get close to Jayce which is leading me to theorise that maybe he’s the source of the corruption we see everywhere and that’s both why he didn’t help Jayce and why he doesn’t interact more with other timelines. I’m not sure I believe the writers intended that, but it would give him a reason.

Merging the rune into Jayce’s wrist seems deliberate, maybe as a way to make it able to go into the Arcane with him?

My theory about Viktor might be right after all, since his merging of the rune with Jayce causes corruption and I don’t think he’d want to infect Jayce further if he could avoid doing that.

*

Viktor gets really hard to understand at this point when he’s talking through his followers, I’m relying on transcripts a bit to catch everything he says.

*

I am not sure what to make of Viktor’s expression in the Arcane realm while he’s talking to Singed, talking through his followers. If he ever does seem emotionless it would be here, I think. Even his Arcane form isn’t openly distressed about Jayce’s attack. He’s creepily calm about it all.

Sky’s behaviour is interesting, if we can take it as a reflection of what Viktor wants from her, because despite Viktor’s seeming detachment she’s very solicitous right now. In the Arcane she’s helping him sit up, staying close to him, and then almost hugging him while he explains he might be dying even though he sounds very calm about it.

When Viktor makes his agreement with Ambessa, however, Sky’s not holding him. He’s also towering over Ambessa and Singed in the Arcane realm. Viktor’s size shifting with how powerful he feels is a delightful bit of visual storytelling.

*

Oh, interesting! Jayce’s hallucinations aren’t just trauma and they seem to be caused by proximity to Viktor and his followers. Jayce senses the presence of a doll before it reveals itself. Maybe it’s related to him carrying the same corruption that fuels Viktor’s magic in himself?

Listen. I have only seen Viktor being intended as asexual come up in shipping discourse. I think instead we should consider it in relation to the fact that his perfect evolved humans are shaped sexily but have no genitals. I know that sounds like a joke, but seriously, I think when “sexy” is something you learn to appreciate as a cultural beauty standard but don’t naturally connect to sex that’s a relatable way to get your wires crossed. (Talking as an asexual but obviously not for all asexuals. Maybe it’s just me.)

I think it gets a bit lost in the rest of the fight, but Viktor’s initial reason for approaching Jayce here is because if he can convince Jayce to just let him reach the hexgates then he won’t have to let Ambessa kill people in order to get there. It’s definitely personal - which is why this gets lost so quickly - but Viktor does have a reason other than the personal one for approaching Jayce.

I know I saw this in someone else’s meta somewhere, but it does seem important that Viktor’s “I’m alone no longer, I now speak with all their voices” shows a wide shot around him that has no one in it. He may think he speaks with his followers’ voices, but everything he’s saying only comes from his vision, never from anything any of them thought, and as such Jayce is right. Everything he did to these people he did alone.

I think to some extent Viktor knows that his followers are dead. That either they were dead the moment he healed them or he killed them to save himself during Jayce’s attack. I think that’s the problem, why he’s retreated further into delusion and even become violent in a way that he never would have been before. In the same way that having a hallucination of Sky for company lets him believe he didn’t really kill her, not entirely, believing his followers are now one with him lets him believe he didn’t really kill them. It’s not something he can process so he runs away from it. He wants Jayce back because Jayce is important to him, but also because if he can convince Jayce that what he’s done is a good thing it will be a lot easier to convince himself.

Viktor really is reluctant to evolve Jayce. He gets his fingers on Jayce’s head at one point and then doesn’t do it.

I can’t deny the homoeroticism of some of this. I don’t ship it, but this is homoerotic in the way a thousand superhero/supervillain fights are and there’s no denying that. Obsession meeting the physicality of a fight.

“My partner died in this room.” I don’t think Jayce actually believes this, because his determination to kill Viktor is later revealed as a desire to save him from a fate worse than death. On the other hand if he was ever going to believe it, then the way Viktor is acting right now is enough unlike himself that this would be a valid time.

While strangling Jayce (and it’s fascinating he seems to have chosen killing Jayce in preference to assimilating him as a last resort here) Viktor’s attention is caught by what looks like a small nebula and is actually the hammer. I think he’s realising the hammer exists in the Arcane as well, although as a vortex of force rather than a hammer, and that it could hurt him, although since he’s the one holding the hammer at this point he’s mostly fascinated by it. This is an interesting insight into why the Mage made sure Jayce had the hammer since it means he’s got a weapon that can hurt Viktor’s true self.

Once Jayce has the hammer back Viktor’s afraid of it. He’s been feeling invincible, halfway to being a god, but Jayce has something that can hurt him.

The hammer blast disrupts Viktor’s connection to his puppet, causing the fingerprints to become hollow and bleed gold. I love that the visual on this looks like the doll is crying due to where one of the fingerprints is placed. Especially when it leads into Viktor curled up on the floor of the Arcane.

Attacking Viktor is so much the wrong approach. He’s not really listening to anything Jayce says, so I’m not sure talking it out would be a good approach either, but attacking him is just making things worse. Making him feel alone and afraid and helpless pushes him back into the trauma that started this and he just goes further trying to gain power.

*

Time is a little wonky because we hear Viktor say “doctor, you may begin the process” in the Arcane immediately after the fight with Jayce, but by the time his followers repeat that message on screen to Singed Jayce has had time to rally the city and Mel has had a conversation with her mother.

Ambessa seems a little creeped out by Viktor, certainly wary of him, as he talks through his followers and makes things hover. Singed, by contrast, seems to feel that even Viktor with godlike power is still just Viktor.

“Thank you very much for your company in my solitude, Ms Young.” I’m holding this up against “I am alone no longer, I now speak with all their voices” as evidence Viktor did know his followers weren’t really there. Although he didn’t know Sky wasn’t really herself either. Or maybe “no, you won’t” is a nod in the direction that deep down he knew that, too. He won’t miss talking to her because he’s been alone all along.

I think destroying Vander to fuel himself is the first time Viktor knowingly and willingly kills someone for his own advantage. We see the last of Vander’s memories fade, we see his eyes go blank, this is something Viktor is fully aware he’s doing. Which is especially important since Vander was someone Viktor admired, and his insistence on saving Vander at cost to himself was one of the last ways he was holding onto his humanity in the cult. Holding onto the person he was before, who always had such clear moral lines. So it’s fitting that he kills Vander in order to give up his own humanity.

Sky too, actually. If Viktor does think she’s the real Sky then this time he’s letting her die for his benefit, instead of it being a devastating accident

*

The fact that there is, now, a hextech weapon that isn’t a personal weapon but artillery, using the same principles as the hexgates and it’s entirely for use against Viktor - is, in fact, what finally brings down the decoy cocoon - is a fascinating thing that passes by really quickly in a battle with this much going on. The argument about hextech weapons finally ends with a question. Against an Empire like Noxus, or against a potentially world-ending threat, does that make it okay? And there’s a lot of stuff here, like the fact that the Grey is used, or everyone fighting for Piltover wearing Enforcer uniforms, that raises the same question.

*

Viktor really does like confidently striding into places. First as the doll, now as his final Herald form. As a lot of people have noticed, he is far more confident in bodies he sees as perfect.

“Despite the circumstances, Jayce, I am… pleased to see you.”

“There must be some part of you still in there.”

That feels like a very weird response from Jayce, and not just because earlier he was insisting that Viktor was dead and there wasn’t still part of him in there.

*

“Choice is false. It is how we clothe and forgive the baser instincts that spur us to division. Death, war, prejudice. Energy spent only to consume itself. But we can be of one mind. United.”

I’m not an expert on League of Legends lore, but this does sound like the beliefs that LoL Viktor has, except for the desire for a literal hivemind. The idea that free will is bad because it just means giving way to emotions, which do more harm than good sounds like what he and Jayce fight about there. The main difference might be that LoL Viktor does not have world-shattering power, so he winds up mostly fighting Jayce and making useful prosthetics for objectively insane reasons.

I do see how we’ve got here from “There is always a choice” too, although as with a lot of things in Arcane season 2 it’s all gone by a little quickly.

Viktor starts out insisting that there is a choice, it’s never inevitable that you have to do harm. Only people keep making the wrong choices, and the pacifism he insisted was an option leaves his cult defenceless. The destruction of the cult leads him to decide that emotions are to blame, that the problem is that people’s choices are irrational. So here, he rejects choice itself as only the product of irrational decisions. If people were rational there would only be one possible thing to do, the most rational one, and therefore no choices.

*

“Your eyes won’t lie when your mind is open, Jayce.”

What is Viktor even talking about? Jayce is not, as far as I can tell, hallucinating in this scene.

*

Viktor and Jayce may not really want to kill one another but they are quite seriously trying. Still fascinated that Viktor seems to prefer this to assimilation where Jayce is concerned. He keeps grabbing Jayce by the neck instead of the head.

*

Viktor’s use of the wildrune seems to be for mass assimilation, with strings of light coming down from it to people who haven’t been touched on the forehead by the dolls. This makes me think the statues in the apocalypse timeline were also assimilated, they were just physically different - and the people who have been assimilated like this are the ones who are able to be freed when Viktor lets go in this timeline whereas the dolls just collapse.

I think Jayce giving in at this point and letting a doll assimilate him is less faith in the power of love and more having no other options at this point. The wildrune’s strings of light are going to assimilate him if a doll doesn’t. He’s tried fighting and it’s failed. It might even be despair, realising he’s in the same place and pose as the other Jayce and deciding that’s proof he’s failed.

(The extreme similarities between the canon timeline and the apocalypse one are actually hard to explain since you’d assume the original Jayce from that timeline didn’t go to an apocalypse timeline and therefore things would have gone differently even if Jayce and Viktor fought.)

I think Jayce is honestly surprised to be alive and conscious in any form at all when he wakes up in the Arcane.

“I know their minds, Jayce. They want better lives, but emotion clashes with reason.” I think that is, ironically, the emotional underpinning of this. Viktor’s always been sensitive to suffering and the Arcane forced him to feel everything everyone around him felt. He feels like being aware of it makes it his responsibility to fix it and so he’s tried - and there’s a lack of humility there, in thinking he was capable of coming up with an answer to the problem of human nature, but there’s also a lot of kindness.

It does feel like Jayce is listening to Viktor more, now. In a way because he’s given up. When he thought he could save Viktor he was either trying to kill him (odd definition of saving him, I know) or argue with him, to talk him out of the path he was taking. Now he just seems to be talking to him, even though he is disagreeing. If this is the end he at least wants Viktor to know that Jayce didn’t see him the way he saw himself, that Jayce admired him.

I think Jayce noting the lack of scars on his own hands is important here, at least I assume that’s what he’s noticing.

Oh, I do not like Jayce’s speech. I see what they were going for but I do not LIKE it. It’s a stupid thing to say to someone who was terminally ill and in pain, it just is.

*

Ekko’s important as an outside variable, both able to do this because of the rune chosen for this timeline and not something the Mage could predict. He’s also been emblematic of hope throughout the show, the counter to the tragedy of people becoming their worst selves, proof that it’s not just that doing the right thing under unjust systems is impossible. So it’s thematically appropriate that he provide the answer here, breaking through Viktor’s transformation, even though it’s also kind of weird that this seems to have more impact on Viktor than anything Jayce says when it’s Viktor and Jayce who share a storyline.

*

Thematically Viktor’s final form is treated very much as a mask, Ekko’s anomaly shatters it to reveal Viktor still there and hiding behind it. And he immediately curls up and hides his face, shrinking down to human size.

“I thought I wanted us to give magic to the world. Now all I want is my partner back.” Now THIS I can believe helps. There has been so much bullshit that’s come from Jayce and Viktor conflating their dream with their friendship. Viktor especially does it, from arguing that Jayce is abandoning their dream instead of asking Jayce to spend time with him, to leaving Jayce when he couldn’t keep going with hextech, to trying to get Jayce back on board with hextech repeatedly but never trying to reconcile with Jayce without doing that. It’s about time someone cut through that, and Jayce saying that Viktor is more important to him than hextech resolves a lot.

Giving Viktor a hug is also helpful. He really needs one.

*

WHAT DID JAYCE PROMISE?

This scene reveals so much and raises so many questions.

Did this Viktor become the Arcane Herald? Did he return to looking human somehow afterwards? It seems like it’s a close match for the canon timeline, so maybe we should assume he did.

“There is no prize to perfection, only an end to pursuit. In all timelines, in all possibilities, only you can show me this.”

I assume the “this” Jayce is meant to show him is that there is no prize to perfection. This does not particularly go with giving Jayce a hammer or with Jayce’s very real attempts to kill Viktor, if he was meant to be showing Viktor the worth of humanity.

Also, why can only Jayce show him this?

Also also, wouldn’t the whole situation be better if he didn’t save Jayce and give him a rune? Since it’s Jayce’s obsession with magic that captivates Viktor and leads him down the dark path that leads to this end. Even if versions of him without magic were obsessed with perfection they couldn’t destroy Piltover with that obsession.

Has Jayce successfully saved Viktor in any of the other timelines? If so, wouldn’t Viktor hand out that rune every time now? If not, then apparently Jayce cannot “show [him] this” or at least he has no proof that Jayce can.

Emotionally, Viktor having started Jayce down this path just as Jayce started Viktor down it is perfect. But in terms of anything the Mage does being remotely sensible? Not so much. As I said at the beginning, in terms of his motivations and abilities he’s a mess.

*

The Viktor of the canon timeline looks like he’s going to cry, which is a valid reaction to seeing a world in which you caused the apocalypse.

In the Arcane the form of the Herald dissolves as soon as it’s no longer something he wants to be. I don’t know if he ever really saw it as himself, it really did feel like he was hiding behind it. He was scared and it let him make himself big and powerful.

Viktor curling up on the floor, panicked and ashamed, reminds me of his reaction to Sky’s death and it is a similar situation. Coming back to himself and realising what he’s done, what he’s caused. Only this time Jayce is there to reach out to him.

I do love Jayce and Viktor’s final scene. You could argue about what it says thematically to have Jayce choose to die with Viktor, but I love the hurt/comfort of it all. Viktor’s lost, afraid, dying, and in many ways he’s been those things for the entire show, but Jayce is finally here to hold him through it.

*

If anyone wants to argue with me about any of this or share theories, feel free to send asks.

[qoldenskies]

i think its so funny when people take the way donnie acts at face value even though its a horrible lie because he's a horrible liar, while understanding leo is bullshitting very well despite him actually being GOOD at bullshitting. many such cases

[kizzer55555]

DP x DC: My Brother’s Ghost

So there are a bunch of fics where Danny and Damian are twins and Danny eventually has to go to Gotham or Damian/another bat interacts with Danny as ghost king. But I do you one better. Danny faked his death because of failing a mission/he actually died and his mother brought him back. (Or maybe he revived on his own after constant Lazarus exposure over time and knew he couldn’t go back). Anyways, Danny knew that he needed to go to Bruce Wayne in Gotham if he ever needed anything but only as a last resort as they would expect him to go there. So he’s been monitoring Bruce from afar and immediately knew when Damian joined the bats. He clocked him as the new Robin and started following his hero career more closely. He was content to watch his family from afar. Even after the accident. Then something happens where Robin was said to go missing and when no news showed up after a few days, Danny got worried so figured it couldn’t hurt to do a quick trip to Gotham.

He dresses in all black and a hood made using an old ninja Halloween costume. Not nearly as much protection as his old league uniform but with his ghost powers he doesn’t really need protection. Just anonymity. He goes to Gotham in phantom form, making sure all his white hair is carefully tucked in the black hood so only his green eyes remain. He uses his old assassin training and finds Robin drugged and captured in an old warehouse by the court of owls. Robin clearly isn’t thinking straight but Danny puts him in a simple choke hold to knock him unconscious anyways. Better safe than sorry. He quickly frees the boy and drops him off in an area he knows the other bats are searching. After watching to make sure Damian is safe and a bat finds him, he leaves.

Damian could barely remember his capture but he thought he saw a figure in black with glowing green eyes. He could have sworn the future was trying to kill him but…he woke up looking at another bat (or maybe even the manor). Did his family save him?

Meanwhile, Danny can’t stop thinking about Damian. Despite his assassin training, he was drugged and hurt. Danny thought his brother could handle himself. He thought he would be safe. But what if this happened again? What if the colony of bats wasn’t enough? So Danny couldn’t help the occasional visit to Gotham to make sure his twin was ok. Most of the time he didn’t do anything, just watched. Sometimes, though, there would be an instance where Damian got out of a dangerous situation and no one knew how. A building collapsed, Damian appeared unharmed outside. A goon was about to get a lucky shot? Somehow the bullet missed or the goon got taken out when no other bats were nearby. Fear gas? Damian faintly remembers warm hands hugging him as he struggled. And while he thought it was weird he heard his brother’s comforting voice when it should be a nightmare, he chalked it up to the fear gas anyways since there was no other explanation.

Yet every time there is a particularly dangerous encounter, he swears he sees the figure in black. Damian sees the figure more and more yet none of his family do. They swore to keep an eye out anyways in case. You never know. Sometimes the figure becomes more clear and Damian has tried to chase them but always loses them quickly. One time the chase lasted at least five minutes and Damian managed to corner the figure in an alleyway only for them to pass through the wall.

The bats suspect that this could either be meta abilities or magic. The funny thing is, there were no traces. No one sees the figure except Damian. No one hears them, and there is nothing to indicate their presence, not even footprints. It’s like they were never there and no matter how hard they try, there is no footage of the figure. Sometimes cameras glitch out and sometimes they only show Robin, sometimes neither or they seem to loop on themselves. So the bats are leaning towards Magic.

They call Constantine to give Damian a thorough check and he declares that Damian shows signs of interacting with a ghost. And that stumps everyone. A ghost? If it was a friendly specter like Deadman then he would help everyone, not just Damian. If it was hostile, it would never help Damian. So why is this ghost only focusing on the youngest bat and why? Is there even someone that would come back from the afterlife to help the demon brat, let alone have the will strong enough to manifest a ghost that can affect the living? Damian was a former assassin after all and he’s hardly the friendliest bat. So who would help him that has already died?

Throughout this, Damian is silent. Because there is one person he knows to have died that might do this. One person skilled enough to avoid the other bats and evade Damian during a chase. One person Damian would acknowledge as having a will stronger than his own. But something was wrong…because he was sure that that person didn’t have green eyes.

So the next time the figure shows himself Damian attacks. Not just a chase but an outright challenge. Hand to hand combat. And as Damian punches and kicks, the figure expertly parries each attack. And as the fight goes on, Damian watches. And he knows those moves. Those dodges. Those blocks. He can read this figure’s fighting stance like the back of his hand because he grew up with it.

And Damian knows without a shadow of a doubt as the figure disappears into he ground, that despite the changed eye color, the tan skin, the increased height, his brother’s ghost has come back to watch over him.

And for the first time in many years, Damian cries. That’s how the bats find him.

[jitteryjive]

i need to remake my cup bros ref… both cup and human designs… it’s been almost a year(?) and i’ve developed the headcanons and i would like to share with the class!!! (i wrote thirty tags. Please help me)

[hussyknee]

Idk if there's enough people talking about what a gigantic energy drain Complex PTSD is. It's not just one single traumatic event, it's having lived in a traumatic situation for a long time. And in the case of child abuse, your entire formative life period. Everything is a trigger, anxiety is your default, and your brain keeps trying to keep you safe by yelling at you about everything you're doing "wrong", which will lead to pain. Your brain is a constant war zone, braced for attack, rarely relaxed, at least some part of you always hypervigilant. The stress it takes on your body is insane. It's why trauma is linked to autoimmune issues, heart disease, type 2 diabetes, and, according to one study, cancer.

Physical disability leaves you even more vulnerable and less able to live up to the impossible standards of control and "correct" behaviour your brain insists on, not to mention the free gift given to all patients of chronic illness that is medical gaslighting and patient-blaming, all of which simply compounds the trauma. Reduced physical and mental health obviously leads to systemic risk factors such as inability to pursue academic and professional qualifications, poverty and financial struggle, malnutrition, becoming unhoused or bad living conditions, exacerbated medical issues and further lack of medical resources, reliance on welfare and care networks, and becoming trapped in codependent, abusive or toxic relationships. The knock-on effects are endless.

This is all to say— if you're wondering why you can't seem to do more than the bare minimum every day when you haven't been diagnosed with a physical illness, or you're "not that disabled", or you think your symptoms are "just psychosomatic" (which means your brain is under so much intolerable stress that it's started taking a chair to the windows and destroying the furniture just to get you to NOTICE AND MAKE IT STOP): the answer is that your body is actually struggling under the kind of stress that kills trained soldiers and disables them for life. So stop trying to convince yourself that you're just not trying hard enough when what you really, desperately need to get your life on track is community, care, rest and ease.

[aria0fgold]

FINALLY! I got to learn more about Colours in isat. I've been thinking bout that so much and I finally found the other book needed for it. So colours only appear when something "breaks" huh...

[aeide-thea]

thinking abt (1) that post abt how most censorship is preemptive self-censorship¹ (2) bras²

⸻ ¹ wow, tumblr search actually worked for once??? ² i do understand and respect that for many people bras serve an actual structural function wrt support/comfort! however, for many other people (hi!) they do not, at least in everyday non-sports contexts, and that's the set of concerns i'm speaking to here.

[fairyfleshprison]

You know what confuses the hell outta me as a Canadian being force fed American politics by proxy of having the internet ?

Is there only ever two candidates?

I could've sworn there was like 4 parties that you could vote for but like for the last eight or something years it's been like Trump or Biden then kamala or Trump or Trump and Obama. Like are there no other people running for office over there? I feel like I'm in the twilight zone, and it's just the same three people on a loop. But you guys do reelection every four years so like...what's even going on over there ????

[trickbxbes]

ᴛᴇʟʟ ᴍᴇ ʏᴏᴜ’ʟʟ ꜱᴛᴀʏ

[ᴅᴀᴇ ʜᴏ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ]

Summary: After the Mingle game, your friends win the vote and get to go home. You reunite with Dae-Ho on the outside and finally get to go on that date.

Warnings: Eventual smut, friends to lovers speedrun, fem reader, switch! Dae-Ho, handjobs, mutual blowjobs, fingering, p in v, safe sex, I don’t know what happens to them right after they vote to leave. Only what happens after,

Word Count: 3,769 words

You couldn’t believe it, was it too good to be true? 51 votes for X, 49 votes for O. Everyone around you on your side cheered, wept with joy and relief. The nightmare was over. And you wouldn’t go home empty handed either. 300 million was enough for you to clear your debt, finally start over.

And maybe, not alone.

You feel arms wrap around you tightly, shaking you like a Ragdoll. It was Dae-Ho. The two of you had formed a bond since being in here. The friendship was instant. His bright and bubbly personality pulling you in like a moth to a flame. Only, there was no pain. He looked out for you every step of the way. You were inseparable. The two of you even arranging a date of sorts once on the outside. You remember how he asked too, the boy was nervous, prepared to laugh the idea off painfully if rejected.

In disbelief, you slowly wrap your arms back around the man. Everything fell silent to your ears. Dae-Ho screams out with joy alongside his mentor, Jung-Bae, before looking at you again. He had the brightest of grins on his face. He cupped the sides of your face briefly, so happy, he could kiss you.

Could.

He lets go of your face after tenderly gazing into your eyes. You step forward and tightly hug him close, finally allowing everything to process. You were going home. You were safe.

Dae-Ho’s also overwhelmed with emotion, embracing you close. His hand gently pets the back of your hair, pressing his head against it. His heart was soaring with relief, and care, knowing you’d be okay.

“We did it…”

He murmured. You’re barely able to hear him through the cheers. “Yeah… we’re going home.” You chuckle weakly.

But the world wouldn’t grant you a moment of peace, no, not for a second.

“Please line up, you will be escorted out in an orderly fashion the same way you were brought in.”

It all came crashing down. You were leaving, now. You and Dae-Ho break apart quick at the realization. Guards were already pouring in. There’s so much you wanted to say, goodbyes you had to give! Team O did something helpful for once though, they bought you time as they started to argue against this.

“W-we’re leaving now…?!”

You see more guards taking control of the situation. People were being separated. You look to Dae-Ho, who was just as unsure and panicked. But then he visibly lightens up with realization.

“The korean barbecue place I told you about! Meet me there in two days! Noon!”

He tried to reach out to you, but the crowd began to push. You felt your anxiety beginning to slow at his request. You didn’t have his phone number, or his address, hell, you didn’t even know what area he lived in, but that was a start. You nod vigorously.

“O-Okay! I’ll see you there!”

A relived smile befalls Dae-Ho, knowing he at least got that out before he’s ushered away.

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Two days passed, and you were at the place to be. It was a tough, settling back. You swore you’d never see the light of day again. Waking up on a cold street while half naked wasn’t exactly a pleasurable experience. Neither was choking out a card in your mouth, but alas. But you got your shit sorted, and now you were here.

Only issue now was, you didn’t know what time to arrive! You wanted to play it safe and meet a little early, wearing your best. You didn’t exactly know how much effort to put into this. What do you wear to something like this? Was it a date? Or a meetup with a crush? Or, a meet with just a friend?

You wait, and wait. An hour passed, then two.

You looked like a madman from how much you kept looking about.

But then it hit you.

What if he doesn’t show?

What if he didnt feel the same?

What were you thinking? That a man you knew for three days would have such strong feelings for you? Maybe you got your hopes up. Maybe he was too busy for you. You frown to yourself, your breathing getting faster. From where you sat, you hugged yourself. You were a miserable sight.

But then, like an angel’s choir, you hear,

“(Y,n)!”

It was slightly distant. Your head snapped up at the all too familiar voice. Making their way through the bustling crowd, was Dae-Ho. His hair wasn’t tied in his usual top knot, but down, letting the fluff bounce freely. The once unforgiving sunlight was now shining on the man like a star, only making him glow. He maneuvers his way through the mass and pops out holding a bouquet of ruby red roses. He pants, standing in front of you with that nervous smile of his.

“I-I’m so sorry, were you waiting long? There’s two different ones here. The one I went to was all the way across— a-and I waited and waited before I realized you were probably here! And—“

You’re unable to stay away any longer. You stand up and wrap your arms around his neck, hugging him close. Dae/Ho stops his rambles, instead, tucking an arm around your waist and holding you close, his other arm holding the flowers. “A-are you okay?” He asks with concern. You smile ear to ear, chuckling.

“I’m just really happy to see you, Dae-Ho.”

Your response made the boy sigh in relief, happy he didn’t upset you.

“I am too, really. I couldn’t get you off my mind.”

You’d pull away, still smiling joyously. Finally, you address the flowers in his hands. “Oh my gosh…!” You take them, giddy as a kid on their birthday. Dae-Ho smiles brightly at your enjoyment.

“I hope they’re not damaged or anything… I kinda sprinted everywhere to make it here.”

He confesses. You don’t notice a single flaw, but you also don’t care to notice. “I love them.” You solidify your appreciation. Dae-Ho looks up at the restaurant sign and back to you, licking his lips a moment. “You ready to go inside?” He sticks his hand out for you to take. Your heart felt full, and you take his hand. Butterflies fluttering along in your stomach.

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⋆ ★

The day didn’t end there. Dae-Ho took you out to see all the sights there were to see in his town. The two of you hand in hand, throughout the day, you didn’t drop your roses. From checking out different shops, interacting with street performers, and getting some sweet treats. Life hasn’t been so terrible since you both no longer had terrible debts to worry about. Even if it was blood money, and came with such terrible trauma, at least you wouldn’t have to go through it alone. You had someone to lean on through it.

Now, you two ended up at one of the hotels. You were sitting outside on one of the fountains, scrolling through your phone with laughter. “Aww, this one’s cute!” The two of you were admiring photos of today. You had taken a special liking to the man giving a cute peace sign over some deserts. Dae-Ho huffs, but couldn’t get his grin off his face.

“You don’t think I look dorky? I can take a more manly photo for you if you want.”

To prove his point, he’d flex his arm muscle. You giggle, patting his shoulder before you simply rest your hand there.

“I think you look perfect.”

Something about the way you said it, made Dae-Ho gulp subtly. His dark eyes gazing at you with awe. To calm his quick beating heart, he deflects off of him.

“I… wanna do this again, sometime.”

The ball was now in your court. Your heart skipped a beat. You look down a little bashfully.

“Y’know, I was kinda afraid for a while you didn’t… Y’know… That maybe it was just the heat of the moment from the games.”

Dae-Ho’s eyes widen. He lets out a dry chuckle, casting his eyes away. “Time went by differently for me there, I think. It honestly felt like I was there with you for a lot longer than it actually was.” He says truthfully. His exterior that was once shining, was now shy. You don’t say anything, allowing him to continue.

“Every second I spent with you, is all I wanted to do with my time.”

He looks back to you, his words carried a weight heavier than any boulder. You bring your hands to your lap, setting the roses aside. A crooked smile forms on your face as you shyly glance at your thighs.

“Well, it’s good to know I’m not crazy then… because I felt the same.”

When you look back to Dae-Ho, you see him gazing with an expression you’re unable to pinpoint. A mixture of adoration, and yearing. His pupils dart toward your lips, and then back to your eyes. He gulps again, unable to meet them for long. But you got the hint. You purse your lips, and gently cup his face. It regains his attention immediately. He’s close, you can feel the heat from his skin, his breath on your hand. He looks at your lips again, and leans in. You meet him halfway, and the two of you share a loving kiss. His lips molded with yours almost perfectly, like that’s where they were meant to be.

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⋆ ★

The next thing either of you knew, you’re trading kisses as Dae-Ho tries unlocking the door to his apartment complex. Your kissing was passionate, forward. All of your want and need was transferred which each tongue exchange.

As soon as you’re both inside, the man shuts the door and you press him against it, not breaking the kiss for a sweat. He moans softly against your lips, his tone urging his desire forward. Your kiss grew sloppier, but consistent as you run your hasty hands under his shirt. Feeling his toned stomach, you press your body against him further. You drew another moan out of Dae-Ho, the male gasping and breaking the kiss so he could say,

“I-I’m sorry, I wasn’t e-expecting company so…ngh…”

You were barely listening, leaving pecks down his neck. Little nips to his skin lead to full love bites. “Fuck, I’ve wanted to do this since I watched you play gongi…” You leave a trail of hickeys on his once clean neck. Dae-Ho brings his finger to his lips, biting down to muffle his whimpers. “W-what do you mean?” He gasps as you release his skin with a ‘pop.’ You meet his eyes, lust shadowing yours.

“‘Wanted to feel those hands on me.”

You take his hands and place them on your hips. He meets your mouth again, his tongue intertwining with yours in a messy dance. His hands run up your sides and then down to your ass, finally finding a resting point to the back of your thighs. “Fuck…”

For once the male was happy to live in a studio. You push him onto the bed, letting him scramble to take off his shirt. You slowly slide down to the ground on your knees. He gazes at you with such kindness and appreciation. He wanted you to feel it, somehow. There was a sea of emotion he was withholding, but you saw lust was the strongest in the waves.

“(Y,n)…”

You look up to him with doe eyes, sending rushes of hunger through him. “Can I…?”

His breathing was uneven, trembling, he nods.

“P-please…” He pulls his pants down, allowing his cock to spring free. He was already half hard, and it only grew as you close your hand around it. You admire its length, its width, and most of all, you feel the way it throbbed for you as it grew in your hand. You gave it a few test pumps, making your man bite his lip to stifle a whimper. Once he was fully hardened, you sped up your pace. Dae-Ho whines out, ever the vocal one. But it’s not like you minded, in fact, you encouraged it.

“You’re being so good for me, Dae-Ho…”

Hearing your praise, the male lets out another moan, his eyes closing. You feel his member twitch in your hand. “Oh? You liked that didn’t you? Wanna be called a good boy?” As soon as the words left your mouth, Dae-Ho moans loudly. He looks down at you with half lidded eyes.

“Oh shit…”

You lower your mouth over his throbbing member, keeping your touch ever so soft. The man leans back, looking to the ceiling. “Oh fuck…!” He grips the bedsheets beside him. For a brief moment, he nearly grabs your hair, but he stops himself. Instead, he gently runs his fingers through your hair. The way he held back to be a gentleman, it only made you wetter. You use one hand to pump his base while you sucked on the rest. Your other hand slid down under your bottoms, rubbing your already wet cunt. When Dae-Ho notices, his face somehow flushes more. “A-are you…?” To answer, you hum an eager note on his cock, sending vibrations down it.

“Fuck~! Ah…I—“ He’s unable to really keep his train of thought on track as another low groan rumbles through him. “Oh my God—“ He just mindlessly babbled on as you took him deeper. He’d involuntarily jerk his hips upward, and you felt the tip reach the back of your throat. Your gag made Dae-Ho immediately check in, concerned. “I-I’m sorry! Are you— fuck!”

But you didn’t care much, speeding up your motions. You take him in even deeper, now deep throating him. It hurt a little, but you cared more about the sweet tune of Dae-Ho’s whines. It might be your new favorite song.

“(Y-Y,n)…! Keep going like that and I’m g-gonna…I’m…!”

He was close, you could feel it. And so you continued your usual motions before showing special attention to his tip, his most sensitive spot. Dae-Ho grit his teeth and cried out, his back arching as he came. His shadow looked glorious, the way it mirrored his position and his gasps. It was almost like a painting, a work of art.

White hot strings enter your mouth, and you swallow it all. You blink up at him, removing your lips and clicking your tongue. Dae-Ho’s expression was priceless, his vulnerability was shown, the walls were down. “(Y,n)…” He cups your face and pulls lightly, a silent gesture he wants you to rise. You do so gracefully and stop. Seeing as the man was basically naked for you, you thought you should return the favor. Dae-Ho watches you slowly strip, undoing your outfit completely. He shakily sighs,

“You’re so beautiful…”

Once bare, you meet him in a ravenous kiss. Your hands hold the sides of his jaw as he wraps his arm around your waist. He whimpers against your lips, rolling you over so you were on your back, not breaking the kiss for a second. Dae-Ho gently takes both of your hands and pin them above your head, one hand having a grip on your wrists. You lament, feeling more aroused in such a helpless position.

He pulls back, a string of saliva connecting you both. He admires you, your returned flushed face staring back at him lustfully. He leans back down, kissing down your neck. His touch was so sweet, feather light. Every kiss was gentle, as if you were delicate. He kissed down your body, stopping at your chest. His eyes meet yours again, asking for permission. You nod, gulping subtly. He’d continue, muttering,

“You deserve to be worshipped.”

He trails his tongue around your nipple and plants a peck on the top, before taking your breast into his mouth. Somehow, he knew the exact way to worship you. He sucked at the perfect intensity and rhythm. With his other hand, he massages your other breast. You loved the way he treated you.

“Dae-Ho…”

It sent waves of pleasure up your body. He started to work his way down, reaching your drenched pussy.

“God, you’re soaked…”

His tongue meets your dripping hole, running through your folds. You cry out, gripping his hair lightly. “Dae-Ho…! Fuck..” You feel his tongue swirl around your clit. The wet muscle circling as he sucked on the pearl. He started eating you out like he was damned starving. You massage his scalp, gripping every now and then. But then, you feel a wave of pleasure shoot through you as Dae-Ho inserts a finger. “Fuck…!” You whine, your eyes now shut. Sucking on your clit, he adds another, pushing them both in and curling his fingers. Your back arches as you’re shocked from too much stimulation.

“I-It’s too much…! D-Dae-Ho! Fuck. T-too m-much!”

“You can take it.”

His immediate response makes your orgasm race forward faster than you can blink. He continues pushing his fingers in an out of you, curling them each time and abusing your G spot. You cry out his name as you finish all over his face, unable to warn him in time. But he just laps up your juices like any other meal.

Dae-Ho looks back up at you with dreamy eyes. He’s met with your panting and flushed expression. You reach your hands out, trying to beckon him closer.

“Dae-Ho… j-just kiss me please!”

You didn’t have to tell him twice as he slams his lips on yours, crawling back atop your body. You grind against his now hard again cock, moaning against him. Soft hums and grunts come from his throat and vibrate on your skin. You pull back, needing to feel him inside of you for certainty. “D-do you have a condom?” Your question catches him off guard, but it’s a necessary one. Dae-Ho blinks and nods. “Yeah— one second.” He kisses your cheek, making you smile as he scrambles to grab one.

As soon as he rolled one on, he’s back on top of you, gazing into your eyes once more. You swear you could see an entire night sky in his dark orbs. “Dae-Ho…” You kiss him again, he more than happily reciprocates. He breathes in through his nose, breathing in you. He lines up his cock with your entrance, pulling back to cup your face.

“Do you want this?”

Consent is a beautiful and mandatory thing. He caresses your cheek with his thumb. You nod, resting your hand atop his with a kind smile.

“I want you, Dae-Ho.”

Dae-Ho leans in and kisses you softly. His lips softly trying to tell you, ‘I’ve got you.’

He slowly enters you, his hands now gripping your hips. You grimace, adjusting to his length. Dae-Ho intertwines his fingers with yours on the bedsheets, giving a reassuring squeeze. His eyes were clamped shut, soft shudders escaping him as he continued in. “Fuck… (Y,n)…”

He bottoms out, and you’re a whimpering mess. Dae-Ho, despite being in a similar position, slants over and kisses up your neck. His lips comforting you generously.

“That’s it… that’s my girl.”

There’s something about the way he says it that makes your heart flutter.

“Yeah… yeah, fuck, your girl.”

He starts to move slowly, his breathing shaky from ecstasy. He mewls in your ear, biting his lip at an attempt to keep quiet. But you weren’t going to let that slide. “…Wanna hear you… wanna hear how good you feel.” You order. Dae-Ho’s hips stutter before he speeds up his thrusts. He lets out a louder whimper, you match his vocals, gripping his shoulders.

“D-Dae!”

“(Y,n)…!”

He holds you closer to him, his thrusts getting faster and deeper. His body was warm. You could feel his muscles tensing with every push and movement.

“Tell me I’m yours,”

He starts, his voice dripping with need.

“Tell me you’ll stay.”

The vulnerability in his tone was enough to make you tear up. He was opening his heart out to you, leaving himself exposed. You wrap your arms around his back, covering his open wound with your own body. You cradle his head in your hand.

“I’ll stay, you’re mine, and I’m yours.”

Your words of affirmation carry in the air. Dae-Ho hugs you even tighter. “(Y,n)!” He goes at an incredible speed, pounding into you. You claw at his back, needing the support. “Dae-Ho!” You wail, overwhelmed with pleasure. The male moves from your neck to rest his forehead against his. You feel every bit of love he was pumping into you. It’s a different level of intimacy, truly seeing each other’s soul like this.

You feel that familiar knot forming in your stomach. “Dae-Ho~! I’m close!” You moan, moaning in rhythm with each thrust. Dae-Ho nods frantically. “M-me too! Fuck… fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck…!” He’s unable to control his blabbering mouth. “Fuck. (Y,n)—you’re so good. So good. Need you… fuck…gonna—“

With that, you both come undone together, your moaning screams mixing together. Dae-Ho nearly collapses on top of you as he catches his breath, his face resting in your neck again. You pant, running your fingers through his hair as you both close your eyes.

He’d roll to his side, pulling out of you and disposing of the condom, tossing it into a trash can by his desk. He lays back down, resting on your collarbone. His arm snugly tucks around your waist.

“Did you mean it… what you said?”

Dae Ho’s question was so innocent, full of hope. He looked up at you expectantly. You feel yourself melt under his gaze, smiling softly and cupping his cheek.

“Of course I did. I’m yours.”

A satisfied smile forms on his face and he rests back down, closing his eyes with contentment. The two of you play together for the rest of the night. The last thing you’d hear before your slumber was a small mutter from your boy.

“I’m yours.”

[parfaitblogs]

hard times ❀ s. reid x reader

in which spencer reid doesn’t follow through one time, and you really hate that he has a psychology degree.

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader genre: hurt/comfort tags: daddy issues. shoutout to the girls with inconsistent fathers this ones for you. established relationship. readers mentioned wearing makeup, a dress and heels. rational bf!spencer reid fuck i would hate a profiler bf. word count: 1.8k a/n: not a trauma dump fic not a vent fic do not read into this fic at all don't even start to speculate on my life and where these emotions came from they're all fake made up not real make pretend. no photos no aesthetics just me, a tumblr account, and a dream for this baddie.

In all your months of dating Spencer Reid, he had never forgotten anything. Not a date, not a work event. Or, at least, he's never forgotten to call. Even when you had been so busy one week you could barely spare him more than a ten minute phone call a day, he remembered what was going on in your life enough to be there for you. 

A false blanket of security draped over your relationship, is what it is now. 

A blanket he seemingly had no trouble ripping off you a random Friday evening, throwing it in a fire and watching it — and your trust in him — burn into dust. 

Perhaps a tad dramatic for what was happening, but you were always one for theatrics when it came to your emotions. Usually, he welcomed it. He was (abashedly) similar, after all.

Not that he was even here to welcome it. 

You'd looked pretty. You'd felt pretty. Past tense, for your shoes were strewn somewhere across the floor after throwing them in frustration, and your makeup was ruined after unwelcome tears had streamed down your face an hour ago. You had been ready for a dinner date you and Spencer had scheduled in only three days ago — penciled in, for you never knew what his work schedule was going to end up being.

You're not sure how long you sat in that one spot on the couch, mind going through every single possible scenario that could've happened between the text he sent you that morning saying he was excited to go out tonight, and the lack of his appearance this evening. 

The logical conclusion is that he got too busy, and he forgot. But Spencer Reid's whole thing is that he doesn't forget. Oftentimes he considers it a curse. You never really agreed with him. Until now, it seemed. 

The less than logical, emotionally driven conclusion, is that he actively chose to stay at work to avoid coming home because he didn't want to see you. Or he didn't actually want to go to dinner, and he didn't know how to tell you. Or his team offered to go out and he'd rather hang out with them instead of you. 

Really, the reasons are endless, and any rational conclusion was lost on you. Mind swallowing you whole as you continued to stare off into space, visibly shaking and head beginning to pound from the crying.

A glance at the clock told you it was near midnight by the time you heard the door handle rattle and twist open, tired, puffy eyes blinking to adjust to the light filtering in from the apartment hallway. 

"Hey. Why're you out here? It's late. I thought you'd already be in bed," Spencer rambles absentmindedly, voice so disconnected from you it only made the ache in your chest worse. As he flicks the light on and assesses the state of the apartment, he asks, "What're your shoes doing on the floor?"

You blink a few times. Was he pretending to be dumb on purpose? 

You stand on cramped legs, stretching them for the first time since you'd sat unknowingly on the couch nearly six hours ago, dress bunching around your waist. You didn't bother to fix it. 

Like a switch, he clicks, his bag sliding off his shoulder and falling to the floor with a thud, realisation settling into his features. 

"Our date. Oh, God, I'm so sorry, angel."

"Yeah. I'm sure," you croak, voice hoarse as you pick up your shoes pathetically in front of him, the heels clacking together as you walk towards your bedroom door. 

He calls your name, and after you make no effort to return to him, you hear his feet against the wooden flooring, carrying himself to you.

You're in the ensuite, beginning to take makeup off you probably should've removed four hours ago. It was stupid hope you held on to, anyways. 

"You're upset. I know. It was awful of me to forget our date," he stands in the doorway, staring at you through the mirror. Even indirectly, you can't make eye contact with him. 

"You forgot," you repeat back to him, almost dumbfounded. "You forgot?"

"Forgot isn't... the best word," his fingers dig into his eyes for a split second, and you watch him think. "I got caught up at work. We had a case, then we didn't have a case, then we did, so we started looking into it, and time just... escaped. From all of us."

"Time just escaped."

Your parroting wasn't doing much to further the conversation, and you watch as Spencer averts his gaze to the floor to take a deep breath, before his eyes land back on you again.

"It isn't the best reason, I know. But it's the truth," he says. 

"Uh-huh," you mumble, discarding your cotton pads stained with your makeup into the trash. 

"Can you stop being evasive?" he catches your wrist before you can return to the sink. "Talk to me."

"What do you want me to say?" you ask, almost earnestly. "It's okay that you forgot, Spencer. I won't take it personally at all, and things between us are just dandy!"

"I want to know what you're actually feeling," he replies, voice flat with his irritation, before he forces himself to soften it. "I can't reassure you if all I know is that you're angry."

"Hurt. Forgotten. Disregarded. Disliked. Irritated we're doing this in our fucking bathroom."

At that, he leads you into the bedroom, turning the ensuite light off. "Forgotten and disregarded are synonyms, so I'm assuming that's what you feel the most."

"You're the psyche expert," you mumble, bitterly.

"I'm not trying to be your psyche expert," he quips, and your heart sinks. "Why're you feeling forgotten?"

You stare at him, dumbfounded, for a beat. "Because my boyfriend quite literally forgot about me?"

"I didn't forget about you—"

"—No, you're right. You just forgot about the date that you literally fucking texted me about this morning!" you snap, voice rising in a way that makes you cringe. Yet, you can't stop it. "You! Spencer Reid! Forgot!"

"Don't yell at me, please," he takes a step towards you; you take a step back. 

"Why did you forget? Did you choose to? Are you pretending that you forgot about it all to save your ass?"

"No," he pinches the bridge of his nose. "I didn't. I told you what happened. You're choosing not to believe me."

"How am I meant to believe that? It's a shit excuse—"

"—It's the truth—"

"—God, you can lie, Spencer! Men lie!" 

He goes silent, as do you. You become trapped in an uncomfortably intense staring contest with him, as you watch his brain slowly tick over and decipher what you were saying, and come up with a response. Yours, however, splits open with your own self hatred. Disdain for what you had just said to him.

"Okay," he exhales, very slowly. "I'm going to tell you what I think, and you can tell me how right I am."

"You're going to profile me?"

He pauses. "I'm sure it'll come off that way. I'm not trying to," when you don't protest again, he continues. "I think you're less upset about the fact that I didn't come home for a date, and more about the fact that I didn't message you about it. I've not shown up for dates before. I've always contacted you prior to let you know. And I've promised I would always contact you if something came up that interfered with our plans. Ultimately, I said I would do something, and I didn't follow through. That is on me, and I'm sorry. What isn't on me, is how you're reacting. Which is childish, honey. You're acting like a petulant child, and I don't mean that as an insult, because I'm almost certain I know why."

Your silence is his cue to continue, but he pauses to collect his thoughts. Your lower lip is beginning to wobble, and he feels awful.

"You know how our childhoods affect us," he says, and the second what he's about to say to you clicks in your brain, your teeth clamp over your lip, and your eyes drop to the ground. "Reactions from parents to things we do, things others do, things they do, all builds up in our subconscious. Having a parent who didn't show up for you time and time again, built up in your subconscious. So yes, you're reacting to me not following through with something childishly. I will not take that back. But that reaction is not your fault. It's in response to a trigger, and the person in control of that emotional response is not adult you. It's the little girl who got let down by her father. I won't ever hold that against you."

Your sniffle breaks the deafening silence that follows his tangent. You allow him to envelop you into a hug, at which you break down into a fit of sobs akin to the ones from earlier. 

"I hate you," you stutter out in between sobs, voice muffled by his chest. 

"You can't say that while hugging me," he counters. It was true, as your hands had wrapped around his waist just seconds ago.

"I hate you," you repeat, punctuating your words with a poke to his back. 

"I love you," he replies, instead. His fingers thread through your hair as he cradles your head with his other hand. "I'm sorry I didn't contact you about being busy."

You swallow the lodged sob in your throat with a hiccup. "I'm sorry I acted like a petulant child. And I'm sorry that my dad sucks."

"I'm sorry your dad sucks too," you feel him kiss the top of your head. "Have you eaten?"

"Mm-mm," you shake your head, and he pulls back, hands slipping down to your cheeks, catching the tears. 

"Do you want to eat?"

"The restaurant we were going to is closed," you mumble.

"Maybe. But the Thai place isn't."

"I'm pretty sure it is," you counter, and his eyebrows furrow. "It's past midnight now."

His face falls, he waits a beat, before his hand drops to your own, and he's tugging you towards the door of the bedroom. "Okay. Fine. Well, the Spencer Reid Kitchen is never closed."

"I asked for pasta last night and you said the kitchen was closed."

"You asked at three in the morning," he deadpans, as you make yourself comfortable on one of the stools. 

"The Spencer Reid Kitchen is never closed," you mock his voice from earlier.

"The Spencer Reid Kitchen rules are made by Spencer Reid."

"The rules should be lenient of Spencer Reid's girlfriend."

"Do you want pasta or not?"

"Yes," you quickly say with a firm nod. "Sorry."

He spends the first hour of that Saturday making you pasta; and making up the missed date.

your reblogs and replies are always appreciated ♡

[evie-sturns]

avoid - Matt Sturniolo

summary: when matt calls you out on you pushing him away, until a huge fight breaks out between the two of you. a couple hours later you find him a mess, you have no choice but to make things right.

contains: angst, crying, arguing, yelling, fluff, comforting, swearing.

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you didn't realise you were doing it, you just were.

you had accidentally been avoiding him and pushing him away for the past couple of weeks, there wasn't a specific reason but you just were.

9:04pm

i'm laying on the couch alone, watching some random romcom as i stare at the screen.

the floorboards creak as i hear matt coming down the hallway, his footsteps are heavy as he approaches the living room.

he stands in the doorway, just observing me for a couple of seconds.

i hear his lips part as he gets ready to speak.

"y/n..?" he mutters softly, his voice is weak and shy.

i hum quietly as a response, not even diverting my gaze away from the bright screen. i hear matt huff slightly, a hint of annoyance in his tone.

"what- why- can you at least look at me when im speaking?" matt scoffs.

"what difference does it make?" i mumble back, still staring at the television.

"makes me think you might actually give a shit about me still." matt spits, his arms fold over his chest as he leans against the doorway,

"pfft." i dismiss him which only sets matt off even more.

"why are you acting like this? seriously!" matt exclaims,

"why are you being so sensitive." i groan,

i know i’m being annoying as shit, but i can’t help it, i’m just doing what i can to tick him off.

matt just stares at me, his breathing heavy as i see him visibly start fuming.

“you wanna know what it is? you’ve been acting like a total stranger for the past couple months and i’m done with it, i’m done with you.” matt raises his voice

i stand up off the couch, standing a couple feet away from matt as i lock eyes with him,

“me? i’ve been acting like i stranger?” i laugh dryly, not cause this situation is amusing, i’m just in shock.

“yes! you’ve been treating me like crap for the past too long!” matt keeps his voice raises,

i point my finger at his chest as i walk closer to him, “you cannot be serious? i literally do everything for you? i gave up so many things for more time with you!”

“i didn’t ASK you to do that! nobody did!” he scoffs loudly, grabbing my wrist and yanking it away from his chest.

“so it meant nothing to you? clearly you’re not appreciating my love for y-“

matt cuts me off,

“don’t even. you’re trying to make me feel bad when i’m literally trying to talk to you about my feelings!”

his eyes are narrow slits now, his fingers wrapped tightly around my wrist.

“let me go, now.” i mutter angrily,

“just listen to me!” he spits, moving his hand off of my wrist to grab my shoulders,

he jolts me back and forth harshly,

“i fucking hate this new attitude of yours, you’re the most self centred bitch ever!” matt shouts,

his voice booms through my living room, making my heart race quicken.

“would you just shut up- shut up!” i scream,

matt shoves me back gently, not enough to actually hurt me, just enough to get his point enough.

“you’re just- you’re just being ridiculous?” matt mutters, turning on his heels and walking away from me.

“i fucking hate you! i hope you get that through your thick head!” i snap

i didn’t mean it.

not at all.

i was so angry, just doing anything i could to be mean.

i hear matt’s heavy footsteps as he walks up the stairs, followed by the door slamming shut.

i flop down on the couch, running a hand through my hair as i pant.

i don’t know why i said any of that.

(35 minutes later)

i’ve just been thinking for the past half hour, about things i shouldn’t have said, things i shouldn’t of done.

i’ve held back all my emotions, feeling somewhat numb, except for the intense feeling of guilt gnawing away at me

the whole house has been eerily silent, usually it would be filled with matt and i’s endless giggles, but it’s not.

i stand up off the couch, my legs somewhat wobbly and my stomach churning with immense guilt.

i need to talk to him,

i drag my feet over to the bottom of the stairwell, knowing matt’s at the top of the stairs, locked away in our bedroom.

one step,

after another,

i slowly walk up the stairs.

my heart pounds against my rib cage, not knowing what matt would say, nor think, when he saw me in the doorway,

the same person that just screamed at him, making him believe that i hated him.

i reach his door, my hand stalling on the doorknob as i let out a soft sigh.

i couldn’t bring myself to just twist the doorknob, my hand was lightly shaking.

i swallow harshly before twisting the knob,

i stand in the doorway, looking around the dimly lit room.

there’s a discomforting feeling in the air, the room is cold.

my eyes search around the room until they land on matt.

he’s laying down on the bed, his back facing me and his still.

is he asleep?

“matt..?” i call out quietly, my voice breaking.

i walk over to the bed, my footsteps light.

suddenly i hear him,

a choked sob escapes him.

he’s crying?

i made him cry,

matt’s never cried infront of me before

and i’m the reason he now has.

“baby- are you crying-?” i whisper, reaching down and brushing his hair away from his eyes. he shivers at my touch, rolling over so his face is buried in the pillow.

i quickly crawl into bed beside him.

“please- please don’t cry-“ i mutter, my tone is panicked as i reach for him.

i sit up against the headboard as he stays buried in the pillows beside me, letting out strangled sobs.

“please look at me- darling i am so sorry, seriously.” i speak softly, my voice just loud enough so it’s audible to him

“matt, look at me please.” i say, my tone shaky as my voice cracks again.

he gently lifts his face from the pillows,

i take the opportunity to grab him, and tug him to sit up beside me.

i run my hands through his messy hair, he looks like a wreck, i feel terrible.

his eyes are swollen, his lips are a deep red and puffy and tears roll down his pale cheeks.

i grab his hands, “matt,” i sigh, “y-you’re killing me.”

matt stares down at the bed, “can- can i have a hug?” he whispers with a small hiccup.

“of course you can have a hug.” i sigh, wrapping my arms around him and pulling his body flush against mine.

i hold him close to me as i lay down on the bed, his head buried in my chest.

he sniffs shakily as he just cries, letting everything out.

i can still feel the undeniable tension in the air,

we’re both so angry at eachother still, it’s hard not to be after argument like that.

“hey, it’ll be okay- we’ll be okay.” i whisper, running my fingers through his locks of hair.

he lets out another sob against me, the noise making my heart break.

“you’re gonna make me cry.” i whisper with a small sigh, holding the back of his head gently.

“sorry.” he sniffles.

i hold him in my arms, whispering small words of affirmation while matt slowly starts to calm down.

i fight back the tears in my eyes as i attempt to stay strong for him.

“could we- talk maybe?” matt sniffs, wiping his eyes on my shirt before slowly lifting himself away from me.

he sits up on the headboard beside me, his legs outstretched and his hands still gently shaking.

“i think we need to.” i nod,

we both sit in silence for a second, waiting for one person to start.

“i know i was-“ i start but matt interrupts me,

“can i go first- i just want to tell you… how i’ve been feeling.” he rambles, his voice cracking.

i nod, “yeah..”

matt starts,

“i mean it when i say you’ve been stupidly distant for the past months, everytime i try to initiate anything with you, i just get brushed off, all of our conversations are shallow and i can’t tell if you actually care about me anymore!”

i stare at him as he rambles, trying to take all of his words to heart without getting mad again.

“i love you so much, and it’s hurting me to see you slowly drift away from me, i just want to know what i did wrong..?” he follows on, swallowing harshly,

i nod slightly, my lips parting to speak but no words coming out.

“i’m not trying to push you away matt.” i whisper,

he goes to speak but i interrupt, “i think it’s just a mix of everything, i’m just so exhausted with work after half my coworkers quit, i’ve been working long hours and i don’t mean to push you away, i swear.” i ramble on,

matt nods slightly with understanding, his hands fidgeting in his lap.

“i love you so much matt, and i’m trying to do better, i promise.” i finish,

matt just looks at me, before finally nodding.

he lets out a breath, one that i can tell took a weight off his shoulders.

“i’m sorry about the argument.” matt says,

i shake my head, “no i was being a pain on purpose, it could’ve been avoided if i acted differently.”

“i came at you with like a confronting tone- i should’ve approached it better.” he speaks,

“and i also shouldn’t have laid my hands on you, i didn’t mean for it to ever get physical..” matt whispers, his eyebrows furrowing as he breaks eye contact with me,

“it’s okay, i needed it-“ i try to defend his actions but he cuts me off,

“no- no that was a shitty thing for me to do, i feel super guilty about it.” he sighs,

the room goes silent, my heart aches as i try to apologise for that one thing i said, the 3 words that exited my mouth, which is now eating me alive.

“i’m sorry- for saying i hate you.. i- i don’t i swear, it wasn’t true at all i was just saying it to make you mad- i promise, i love you more than life itself.” i spit it out.

matt’s gaze softens,

my eyes well up with tears, “i shouldn’t have said that, i’m so sorry-“ i whisper out,

matt reaches his hands up to my face, his hands caressing my cheeks and his thumbs wipe my eyes quickly.

“no tears.” he gently coos,

“i’m so sorry- i fucked up so bad-“ i continue, but matt cuts me off.

he presses his lips to mine, his hands still firmly on the sides of my face.

he rolls us over so he’s ontop of me, keeping our lips connected.

i kiss back, distracting myself from the swirling thoughts in my head.

after a few moments he pulls away from my lips with a small ‘pop’.

a warm smile appears on his face as he peppers kisses all over my face.

i squirm with a giggle as his pecks kisses all over me, before pressing a final peck to my lips.

“we’ll always talk things out next time, i promise this won’t happen again.” he whispers comfortingly, his hands gently running through my hair.

i nod in agreement, “i love you.”

“love you too sweetie.” he whispers, before going back to peppering kisses all over my face.

-

@sturnsdoll @obvisturns @stupid4sturniolo @meerkatzthings @witchofthehour @rosalierenee43 @gabrielle-brun1 @ilovemymannnnnnnn @sturnioloxlver @buckys-goodgirl @sturniol0s @ilovemymannnnnnnn @chr1sgirl4life @luanetaluenta @sturnsssbow @mattfangirl girl @luvr4miya @luvtay111 @lolasturniolo @freshloveforthefit @ruedowney @lovingchrissposts @333michelle @h3arts4harry @jamiesturniolo o @chrisstopherfilmed @ @daddyslilchickenfingers2 @ev3rgreenxtrees @certifiednatelover er @solarsturniolo lo @mattsenthusiast t @yomamaslays4lyfe @peachmels @alinaa131 @pepsiluvr0209 @creamoncreamoncream2 @szobofc @mattscoquette @blahbell668 @sturniolo04 @bitchydragonparadise @sturni0l0tripletzz @ratatioulle @sturnsfav @mattsonlybitch @justalittle47 @sunsetsturniolos

@sturniolo04 @similartokayyz @sturnsintrouble @ilovemattsturn @raysmayhem-72 @75sturn @sturniol0s @secret-sturniolo @hfkeclnendmwodne @sturniolosass @gxldenlush @stonermattsgf @101sara @beccaluvschris @oliviasturniolo21 1 @imwetforyourmom @tylerstacobell @sunsetsturniolos @aliceloveschris @jayz4dayz 4 @sassysturniolo2008 @nyktoxs-love r @nathandoesgf @starsturns234 @chrissturnsss s @joemamaaa42069 @sturnthepot @zayyluvz @realuvrrr @livialifesblog @sturnioloblogs @riowritesitall john @raysmayhem-72

[tsuutarr]

Yandere!Hero (Chosen One) x Saint!Reader

Being the Hero – the Chosen One – means that the world’s fate is on Elias’ shoulders. He’s long since forgotten how to live for himself, his life belonging to everyone but him. He’s merely a puppet that’s being strung along by the world for the sole purpose of saving it.

At first, he was honored to be chosen as the Hero – it’s a privilege most don’t get. But everyone expects too much – everything – from him. His life is carefully shaped into what others want of him, people only looking at his role and not him as a person.

Now, he fights and saves people due to duty, not desire. There is no sparkle of pride when he helps villagers. Instead, all that is left is another thing checked off of his mental checklist. Now, he just wants to rest. He just wants things to be over.

So that’s why he despised the idea that some Saint from the Church would be his “helper.” Traveling with someone else is only going to slow him down. Not to mention the fact that he doubts the Saint has ever seen bloodshed and disease like he has.

But when he actually meets and travels with you, the Saint, he realizes that you’re actually not that bad. You’re actually kind of nice. He’d expected you to turn your nose at the commoner population, refusing to heal them, but you actively seek them out to help. You’re kind and gentle, but headstrong. Even when you’re visibly exhausted, you do your best to keep going. 

It’s… kind of impressive, actually. He had misjudged you, perhaps.

Even now, you’re helping the knights that were attacked by bandits (which Elias had vanquished), healing not only their bodies but their souls, too. He can’t help but look at you, a raw beacon of kindness that he hasn’t seen before in his travels. 

Once you’re done healing the knights, you look up at him, before a gasp escapes your lips. “Elias!”

He blinks at you, curiously.

“You’re bleeding!”

“Ah.” Elias looks down at his hand, blood dripping down his fingers. He had instinctively grabbed a knife by the blade earlier because he wouldn’t have been able to dodge it in time. “This is nothing.”

“Oh, shush!” you say, approaching him. You push him towards a tree stump, forcing him to sit, which he allows. Carefully, you take his hand in yours, frown deep set on your mouth. Your hand is so warm that it makes his heart burn.

“You’re tired,” he states, bluntly. He doesn’t tug his hand out of yours. “You’ve healed too many people.”

“I can–”

“No.” He shakes his head. “Rest for now, Saint. I am fine.” And he’s right – he’s the Hero, after all. His wounds heal much faster and better than a normal human being. He doesn’t necessarily need your healing.

“Still,” you murmur, looking up at him. “Can I at least clean and bandage it?”

It’s pointless, really, but Elias says, “Do what you want.”

So you do. You disinfect and clean his wound, before carefully wrapping his hand with bandages. For some reason, his heart squeezes painfully as he watches you tend to him so gently. He doesn’t remember if anyone’s ever treated him this kindly.

“There.” You look proud of yourself. It’s kind of cute.

“You didn’t have to,” he mutters without really thinking about it.

You give him a smile that makes his brain stop. “I wanted to. I want to support you.”

For some reason, your words almost make him want to cry. He’s not sure why – he’s seen so much death and destruction to the point that his emotions have become numb. Yet, you bring flickers of his feelings back to him – happiness, sadness, anger, love. 

You make him feel like he has an existence beyond just being the Hero. You make him feel human.

So, how can he let you go? He can’t – and he’ll do everything he can to make you his. Even if it means he has to destroy the world.

[johnbrand]

OnlyFags

With @boysmentfs

“God already? I just bought these like a month ago!”

Elliot tossed his headphones aside, annoyed. When he had bought the gaming headset, he had expected them to be excellent. So many other gamers had recommended the pair, but now they would not even connect to his monitor. Seeing that they were cordless, they were practically rendered useless.

Desperate, a risky idea suddenly popped into Elliot’s head. His older brother Trent had a decent enough pair that he could borrow. The plan was a fool’s errand if Elliot was caught; his brutish, jock brother could wipe him out in seconds for entering his room. And already loaded with emotional ammo on numerous accounts (being smaller, having intelligence, liking boys), Elliot was sure to end up at least hypothetically dead. 

But Elliot also knew that Trent was not coming home that night. He was over at his current girlfriend’s place, meaning all Elliot had to do was replace the headphones exactly as he found them. Enjoying the sense of danger, Elliot mischievously tip-toed out of his room–despite no one else being home–and carefully approached Trent’s door. His brother’s room was not any different from the stereotypical straight man’s quarters: sparsely decorated besides a poster of bimbos with a rock band, dirty clothes and foul-smelling shoes scattered on the floor, and an American flag on the far wall. 

Carefully avoiding the piles of empty beer cans, Elliot held his breath, hoping to not let any of his brother’s potent body odor enter his system. He eventually reached his destination, taking a seat at Trent’s desk and pushing aside anything that could dirty his bright-colored polo and shorts. It was easy to log into his brother’s computer and bypass the security functions, but Elliot had not expected to run into a problem with the Bluetooth compatibility. Until he disconnected the headphones from a specific site, Elliot would not be able to use them. It was a simple task, until Elliot realized it was a webcam site.

“OnlyFags?!” Elliot gasped. He would have never guessed Trent, the prime example of a cocky homophobic hetero alpha, would have been involved in OnlyFags–let alone a creator. The webcam site was practically known worldwide as a hate group–straight men teasing desperate, horny gays to make money. It was horrific, and yet it had somehow consistently exceeded expected profits. 

Trying his best to ignore this discovery and get back to the task at hand, Elliot logged into his brother’s OnlyFags account, hoping to be able to disconnect the headphones once and for all. The loading screens were long and annoying, spirals that seemed to go on for longer than necessary, but eventually Elliot navigated to the devices page. Instead of disconnecting his headphones however, he accidentally reconnected his brother’s camera.

“Oh no…please no,” Elliot squirmed. Before long, people hopped onto his feed, commenting about this new arrival. Elliot nervously tried to escape the program but every attempt appeared to fail, only booting up the loading screen once more without ever reaching an end destination. Elliot quickly put on one of his brother’s caps and held his head low, hoping the audience would think it was Trent until he was able to exit. His panic was rapidly rising, but out of the corner of his eye, something caught his attention. One of his unfortunate viewers had a request, stating that he should flex.

A sudden calm befell Elliot, and although his musculature was not visible, he surprisingly felt comfortable posing for the webcam. The timid act was not much, but it garnered a reaction from the viewers. Another requested for Elliot to flex from a different position, and he obliged, his slim frame gaining a small but fair applause from the gay audience. After succumbing to a few more requests, Elliot was soon hooked, continuously switching between the loading screen and listening to his fans. It did not take long until he started receiving messages requesting to start stripping, and to his own surprise, Elliot fulfilled them.

When one of the viewers typed that he wanted to see Elliot show off his “mammoth arms,” he willingly struck a pose. He did not hesitate to prove the next commenter wrong, who insisted his legs could not be “hardened with muscle and bloated out like massive logs of meat.” Elliot immediately tossed his legs up unto Trent’s desk, showcasing what one member of the audience guessed were Size 13 feet. The shirt was removed after Elliot had to prove his “hard six-pack,” the shorts already off before he was told to showcase the “classic bubble butt only these guys have.” 

Soon, the comments were less focused on requests and more so just stating observations. Elliot went back and forth between his live webcam and checking in on the spiral, although his panic had long subsided. “An abundance of body hair,” “Exudes arrogance and privilege,” “Only wants to play, get laid, and look good.” Eventually, Elliot even began to relish in the attention, becoming excited as his audience grew more vocal and engaged. This attention soon had Elliot massaging his member, his thick hands pumping the growing meat. It took his roused audience moments to realize this, yet Elliot was no longer afraid to respond to their excitement.

“You like that, don’t you?” Elliot’s voice oozed all-American jock. The crowd went wild, calling him irresistible, a pure stud. One viewer daydreamed what he was jacking off to, but another replied before Elliot could. “Probably cheerleaders or sorority chicks, these guys are all the same.” Elliot was about to reply differently, but a quick check in with the loading screen flashed a new image through his mind.

Tits. Touching them, motorboating them, and then finding his way down to the pussy. These images, these memories, made Elliot moan. The words almost left his mouth, but he knew his viewers would not be turned on hearing about his new and yet natural desire to breed and seed every chick he saw. No, he knew what they wanted to hear.

“That's it, you dumb horny faggot. You like this, don’t you?” Ethan smirked, continuing to pleasure his giant cock. OnlyFags terms and conditions were simple, but ironclad. Upon starting an account, creators had to “verify” they were straight, users endured the same sign-up requirements. “Blow your faggy brains out to a straight alpha like me, right now. Spend that useless cum, waste it on me.” When the system had detected Trent’s account had broken this agreement, the issue was immediately resolved. 

Quickly, a sudden rush of pleasure overran the new man. “Oh yeah BROOO!” Ethan shouted, white goo spilling forth just outside of the camera’s view. He did not want another dude–especially a homo–to see his dick after all, which was slowly dropping back into its still large flaccid state. 

Ethan, now just another dumb, homophobic, straight jock, found himself content with his work, taking pride as the tributes started rolling in. Thanks to Trent's and his system–while one got laid the other was pumped live–the twins were making bank. And why would they ever stop working if they got paid to do what they loved? Jerking off and fag-bashing had never been better.

“Tune in tomorrow, fairies,” Ethan licked his lips as he prepared to sign off. Cockily, he began grabbing at his pec. “Tomorrow’s sesh will be seeing a little more of this…” He then brought a hand back to down his massive cock. “and a lot more of this.”

[multific]

The Window of the Soul

A'Tok x Reader

Summary: They kidnapped humans to use as slaves. He saw you the day you arrived at Yautja Prime.

They took others too. You weren’t so special. 

But why was it so strange?

You noticed him from the day they took you from Earth. He was the only one who saw you more than a prey or slave. It was visible in his eyes. 

He pitied you. 

And you didn’t mind. You needed his pity to survive. 

When they started killing the others, you gave up on going home. 

But you did want to survive. 

At least live a life and not die a worthless death. 

It is what you aimed for. 

You hoped for a family to take you. 

You hoped the young alpha would take you to his care. 

He didn’t look as mean as the others. He held a certain kindness in his eyes. 

You failed to notice that this was only towards you. 

The next day, he took you home with him.

Well, you say home but your image of a home was very different from theirs.

You assumed you would be a slave to him, like the others you saw once they were picked.

You knew that he could do anything with you.

The last thing you would have guessed was that he would feed you.

He brought a huge plate filled with meat and fruits.

It was so big you ate it for two days.

But you could have it worse.

You heard the stories from other humans. You knew none survived for longer than two years.

You were already there for almost one and a half.

In his care, you were for only half a year.

Well, you say care, in reality, you took care of his home. Cleaning, and he did teach you how to cook for him.

He was a hunter, as you have learned. 

In the tribe you lived, he was a hunter along with other males. It was the highest and one of the most prestigious positions, the only one higher was the leader of the tribe.

You could only work off of your ideas as you didn't understand them fully.

You did learn a couple of words but other than that, clueless.

Although their traditions made a lot of sense, they were similar to the ones you learn about in school.

Except for his eyes. There was something about his eyes that you noticed the first time you saw him. Something different about him, something kind.

You stopped being so nervous around the time when he brought home more than enough fur for you to have a bed of your own. 

If you didn't know any better you would think that he was treating you as an equal.

You did find it weird that he didn't lock his doors, let you roam free and let you around huge knives.

Perhaps he wasn't afraid that you would hurt him, perhaps he knew you had no chance of hurting him.

He would be able to kill you long before even the thought could come to your mind. 

While you were thinking of the ways he could be hurting you, he did nothing as such.

Not even a finger of his touched you at any time.

“A’Tok,” he said one day. You weren’t sure how, but you knew it was his name. 

“Y/N,” you simply replied. When he said your name, it sounded so strange but it also sounded very nice.

You repeated back his name. 

Yautja could not show emotion on their face, but you swore you saw a small twinkle in his eyes. Those eyes spoke stories to you, even if you didn't know nor did you understand.

You chose to ignore this.

What you couldn't ignore however was the day you got sick.

You felt a fever coming a couple of days ago, and soon, you became ill.

A'Tok had no idea what to do.

He stayed by your side day in and out.

You got so hazy with the fever, that you reached out to him since he was the only living being there with you.

"Don't leave me, please." you said even if you knew that he didn't understand you.

But he didn't leave, instead, he laid down next to you and pulled you close to him.

His cold body comforted you as you fell asleep.

The next day you woke up exactly as you fell asleep, in his arms.

You still felt under the weather but you were rather hungry now.

Your slightest movement woke up A'Tok. And he soon realized what you needed.

He brought you to the kitchen and prepared a simple meal.

While eating, you realise that you will never go home. You will never be back to Earth and somehow, you were okay with that. Somehow, you didn't mind living here with A'Tok. 

It all hit you like a cold shower and yet, somehow you were okay with everything.

You looked into his eyes and you felt at ease, you felt like you could live the rest of your life with him or at least for as long as he kept looking at you like that.

Taglist: 

@castellandiangelo @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @manduse @jacalineiscomingforyou @mandoloriancookie @deliciousfestsalad @lilliumrorum @asgards-princess-of-mischief @fallout-girl219 @dracaryxzs @darlingmira @stygianoir @snowtargaryen

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

/YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO TRANSLATE, OR TO STEAL ANY OF MY WORK TO THIS OR OTHER PLATFORMS/

[sunfairiess]

𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐢 𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝, 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐞 | 𝐣𝐣 𝐦𝐚𝐲𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐤

pairing: jj maybank x fem!reader

tropes: 3rd person narration | soft boy jj | best friends to lovers | comfort | fluff

synopsis: reader’s battling against anxiety, and during one of her anxiety attacks jj’s there to help her.

warnings: heavy depiction of anxiety, anxiety attack.

wc: 2.1k

writing this as someone who suffers from anxiety and deals with it on her own, was really emotional; if you find yourself in this position too, please don’t be afraid to ask for help. mental health matters <3

song rec: breathin - ariana grande ♡

everyone fights their own monsters, some are physically visible, others are perceived. some people have to fight against their families, some against their friends. but one of the biggest and worst challenges, was to fight against your own head.

everyone is tormented by their own monsters. hers is called anxiety, the beast who had ruined her life.

at school, her grades started to drop because she was just so tired all the time she couldn’t even bring herself to open the textbook; half of the foods she used to love were cut out of her daily routine because she would get constant heartburn and stomach problems to the point where she wasn’t able to consume a full meal for days.

when it came to sleeping, she couldn’t fall asleep because her mind was always racing with awful thoughts. what if i don’t wake up tomorrow? do my friends hate me because i didn’t go out with them today? is my heart supposed to beat so fast? my back is hurting, is this a health condition? am i going to be alone forever? usually she would go on for hours, reaching three or four in the morning, until she either cried herself to sleep or she almost passed out because of how tired she was.

going out of the house became hard. she became afraid of taking public transportation because what if someone tried to rob her or kidnap her. she couldn’t take long walks anymore because what if something happens and i’m alone. she even had to stop going to parties because she couldn’t stand big and loud crowds of people anymore.

her mental pain became physical: constantly having back problems, her chest and throat always felt too tight to breathe, her body tingling out of nowhere all the time.

it would’ve been a lie to say all of this didn’t reflected onto her relationship with others; she never told anyone about her own problems, not that they could help anyway. so when she started to hang out less with her friends, she always had to lie. i’m grounded, i can’t go out. sorry, i have too much homework to do. i have the flu, i can’t come. my dad needs my help, i’ll come next time. eventually though, she would run out of excuses, and that’s how she ended up for the first time in a month at the château, surrounded by her best friends.

“girl, we haven’t see you in forever, i almost forgot your face.” kiara joked, nudging her a bit with her elbow.

“i know, i’m so sorry guys. past month has been crazy.” which wasn’t a lie per se, she had spent the last weeks having constant anxiety and panic attacks. in the morning, in the afternoon, at night. and every single time she felt like she was about to die, the impending fear of doom creeping inside her. it really started to become unbearable, to the point where she didn’t even notice how many days would go by.

“well you’re here now, that’s what matters.” pope chimed in, giving her a smile. somehow that made her feel a little bit more lighter, knowing that her friends didn’t actually hated her. anxiety made her overthink every little detail of her life.

even though she tried to appear relaxed the whole night, she still felt like she was being chocked by an imaginary hand, pressing harder every time she breathed. she was grateful that none of her friends noticed the stiffness in her body, it would’ve been to hard to explain everything.

at least she thought no one noticed. jj noticed, he always did. he would observe every little detail about her. and from the moment she stepped into the château he hadn’t been able to keep his gaze off of her, not even for a second. he missed her. he hadn’t seen her in weeks and he had become restless. day and night he would think about her, what she was doing, if she missed him, if she too dreamed about him like he did about her. that’s how it felt being in love with your best friend.

jj knew something was up with her. she was always full of joy and energy, but bow it seemed like she had lost her spark. he knew there was something wrong, especially when he saw her fidgeting with her rings, gazing anxiously around her. he knew something was wrong when she got up, excusing herself from the conversation, and almost running to the bathroom.

following her wasn’t probably too good of an idea, but jj was impulsive, so he did it anyway. amen to that, he would’ve dealt with the consequences later, like his confused friends asking him what the heck was going on.

as he entered the bathroom, she was sat on the toilet. her face so pale you would think she was about to pass out.

he sees her as she stares into the wall, her eyes fixed in front of her, full of fear. he notices as she bring her right hand to her throat, sliding slowly down her chest and pressing hard. he hears her breathing going faster and heavier, like she couldn’t catch a full breath. her hands shaking as she tries to ground herself and not slip into the arms of her anxiety.

jj had no idea of what an anxiety attack looked like, he had been fortunate enough to never had one, but he always thought they had to feel awful for whoever got them. but seeing her, his sweet little sunshine, shaking all over the place and being surrounded by a cloud of darkness around her, made his heart break into a thousand millions pieces. he wanted to help her, but he didn’t know how to do it in the right way. he just wanted to do something, and so he did.

“sunshine, hey. baby, look at me. c’mon lemme see your pretty eyes.” he kneeled in front of her, placing both of his hands on her knees and gently rubbing his thumbs against them.

everything was spinning around her, thoughts racing with all the emotions she bottled up and all the fears she always had. she couldn’t stop them, it felt like she was going to be swallowed up by a black vortex. but then she heard his voice, it was like hearing an angel talking. her gaze slowly shifted from the white wall to his eyes, his gorgeous blue eyes, usually shining like stars when they looked at her, but now they were the depiction of concern. she felt a sharp feeling of guiltiness running through her your veins, because the last thing she wanted was to make him sad.

“that’s it, baby. you are so pretty, my pretty girl.” he gave her a soft smile, slowly moving his hands from her knees to her thighs. he wanted to pull her close and hug her, but one time— and thank god for him and the one time jj actually listened to what he said— pope told him that when people had anxiety or panic attacks, most of the time they didn’t wanted to be touched. so, instead of being the usual impulsive jj he was with everyone, he took baby steps with her, not wanting to scare her or make her even more anxious.

her breath was slowly calming down, but the aching in your chest and the lump in her throat were still there, still feeling like she was going to suffocate any moment now, but jj pulled her out of her thoughts again.

“alright pretty girl, i need you to do something for me, ‘kay? i need you to take deep breaths with me, i know it’s hard but i’m here. you’re safe, i won’t let anything happen to you. breathe with me, baby.” his voice was so sweet and gentle, she actually thought she was going to cry because of how soft he was speaking to her and how he was trying to handle the situation. she nodded slightly, following his example as he took one deep breath and then exhaled. one deep breath and exhaled. inhale and exhale. and they went on, and on, until the tension she felt before started to leave her body, making her shoulders and back relax and her hands stop shaking.

jj didn’t say anything this time, he just looked as she regained consciousness of her surroundings. even though the attack was gone, it usually took hours before she could actually calm down completely. it was hard and she always handled them alone, but this time having him with her felt like a blessing from heaven.

feeling like she had just been pulled out of a dark hole, she launched herself into his arms, wrapping hers around his neck. he let out a sigh as soon as he felt her flesh touch his own, his arms reaching for her hips and his face buried deep into the crook of her neck. they stayed like this for a almost twenty minutes. he only pulled her in tighter, not wanting to let go of her because he knew as long as she was into his arms, she was safe.

30 minutes later they were laying next to each other in the hammock, her head resting on his chest, the sound of his heart beating calming her, like a lullaby. his hands were both placed on her back, rubbing small circles against the thin fabric of her shirt.

jj really didn’t want to break the peacefulness that surrounded them, but he had to ask her why she never told him anything. he felt like he was failing at being her best friend. “why did you never tell me?” his voice was low, sounding almost like a whisper.

“i- i don’t know. i didn’t want to bother anyone, didn’t want to be a burden.” jj stopped moving his hands on her back, instantly lifting his head to look at her.

“okay, know that i’m not mad, but, firstly, i’m not anyone. i’m your best friend, you would never be a burden to me.” his hands moved to her cheeks, lifting her face. “i’ve been through hell and back these past weeks. not seeing you, not talking to you for more than 5 minutes on the phone, not touching you. it nearly killed me, y/n. i was always on the edge of a breakdown, constantly snapping at everyone because i didn’t know how you were doing. were you safe? were you alright? not knowing made me go insane.”

he stopped for a moment to catch his breath. he was pouring his heart out, which he never do, but he just felt like he had to do it now. “and i’m not saying this to make you feel guilty, that’s the last thing i want. i just wish for you to know how much you mean to me. you’re the most important person in my life, you’re my best friend, my ride or die, my partner in crime. you- you’re my first love, and hopefully you’ll be my last one too.”

her eyes went wide at his words, and honestly she thought she heard him wrong. “jj, what- what are you saying?”

“i know the night wasn’t perfect, but please just lemme say this now because i don’t know when i’ll get the same courage again. i love you, y/n. i love everything about you. i love that weird sound you make when you laugh too much, i love how your eyes shine when you’re talking about things you like, i love how after surfing your hair become all curly. hell, i love even the things you do that should piss me off, like when you throw away my joint because i’ve been smoking too much or when you scream at me because i got in a fight with some kooks again. i love you so much it physically hurts.”

her eyes were watery now, tears threatening to coming out in flows. she didn’t know what to say. because seriously, what do you say to someone who sees you as the most incredible human being, when you can’t even love a quarter of yourself?

you say nothing. but you can do something.

that’s why, in the quietness of the night, under the stars and while she was feeling at peace for the first time in weeks, she closed her eyes and pressed her lips against it.

she wasn’t magically healed, she still had things to deal with. but now, she wasn’t on her own anymore.