#termination bliss

[clemsfilmdiary]

Late Night with the Devil (2023, Cameron Cairnes, Colin Cairnes)

4/27/24

[butchviking]

WHY IS IT SO FUCKING HARD TO DOWNLOAD AN ALBUM THESE DAYS IM GOING TO KMS

[wetslug]

my roommate is trying to keep the house by having a random middle aged man take over the lease and he keeps texting me 'this is complicated i dont understand' and now i have to meet him tomorrow to explain how leases work . explain why this is my problem

[cryptdoor]

Had the most surreal thought of "wow how nice of him i love butches" when I watched a (assumedly) cis man put away grocery carts when he was leaving the store

[fun-sized-owl]

I broke the tags... this was only a portion LOL

[a-b-riddle]

Runaway Love (kidnapper Price x captive reader)

cw: established kidnapping, violence, intimidation, unplanned pregnancy, miscommunicated threat of forced abortion, eventual Stockholm syndrome, housewife kink. Reader just accepts her situation at this point. Dub-con, non-con.

You couldn't think of anything except the pain that radiated with each step toward your room. You were lucky your work and home were the same place. It was incomprehensible, downright unbelievable how some of the other maids worked their shift and then either walked home or walked to the bus stop.

Granted, most of them weren't pregnant and had shoes that actually fit, but you didn't like to complain. You were lucky to have the job, even if it was back breaking. You had a roof over your head and although the pay was minimal, you were able to buy essentials and save up and with a baby on the way every penny saved counted.

Most importantly, you were free. You were safe and so was the baby. It had been the only reason that after almost a year, you had finally been brave enough to escape. Knowing that it would be hard to rebuild a life from scratch. Knowing that the consequences meant a punishment so severe you could only hope for death.

You had tracked your period religiously. Even with the stress of being held captive by a psycho military Captain, your cycles were fairly normal. So when you were five days off, you knew. In a moment in which you wanted nothing more than to be happy to finally be starting the family you dreamed about having as a little girl, fear enveloped you.

John had never mentioned kids. Only a wife. Someone to be at home waiting for him. Keeping the house in order and his bed warm while he was away.

All I need is you and the boys, Birdie. What more could a man want?

You considered telling him. Hoping that he would be as happy as you wanted to be. Yet anytime you came close to telling him over the next two weeks, horrible thoughts raced through your mind. What if he was angry? What if he blamed you even though he practically took you whenever he pleased? How would he terminate the pregnancy or would he be content in letting you give birth without any medical intervention and simply get rid of the baby after?

Would he just get rid of you altogether?

It was like the universe was telling you to run when shortly after you decided that telling him wasn't the answer, that he told you he was going on a mission. Won't be back for a couple of weeks. Sent the boys to pick up anything you'll need. I know you'll be good for me.

You had been good. For that last six months, you had behaved. Didn't pull away from his touch or put up a fuss. You lived in the epitome of domestic bliss, so John had no reason to send you down to the basement. Not when you had so many opportunities to try to escape and you didn't.

Granted, he had threatened to break your legs during your first and last stunt. You had been in the basement for three weeks. Living in near darkness as he brought all of your meals. You had been upstairs for about twenty minutes and barely made it to the door before he tackled you. Pinning you to the ground, breath hot against the back of your neck as he hissed in your ear. Ungrateful little brat.

Your apologies fell on deaf ears as he hauled you back down where you would stay for six weeks.

For months you built the relationship on a lie. A lie John deluded himself into believing. Anytime he told you he loved you, you repeated the words back. Wanting to scrub your body raw anytime he touched you and hating yourself anytime he made you come.

But it had been worth it. You were four months along, and given your ill-fitted clothes, not really showing, but knowing that in another five months you would be holding the baby you always wanted. A baby that you had went through hell for. Seeing his or her face for the first time, being their mom would be worth it.

You kept all of the lights off. It was a request of the motel owners to reduce their bills. So even if it was early December and you knew you would be walking back to a freezing room, they didn't give a shit. In truth, they were doing you a favor only charging you $400 in rent with unlimited access to their laundry services. You suppose having the pity of others did have its perks.

You hadn't even bothered to turn on the lights before pulling your shoes off your feet and plopping down on the bed. The grit and grim still felt thick on your skin, but you couldn't find the energy to care. You would shower and get on a fresh set of clothes you had gotten from the shelter when you first made it into the city, but for now you needed a moment. Just a few minutes to decompress.

A few minutes turned into five and then ten. Before you knew it, you had been laying in the bed floating in and out of consciousness for almost twenty minutes. You knew you needed to get up. Wash away the grime of the day that had settled on your skin. Your clothes smelling faintly of bleach.

Fuck you were tired.

You were always tired.

You got up and made your way to the bathroom, barely keeping your eyes opened. Not confident enough you would actually be able to take a shower without wanting to lay down in the tub and let all the strain of the day go down the train.

It's funny how the human body can make us teeter on the edge of sleep. We imagine things that may or not be there. But when you heard it, when you heard that voice coming from the corner of you room, you knew you weren't imagining anything.

"Wonderin' when you'd wake up."

[thinkingaboutbetterdays]

feelings are scary. ( gregory house x reader )

gif belongs to me

He knew breaking up over a text message was the coward's way out, but there would be questions he didn't want to answer, uncomfortable feelings he tried to bury down and pretend didn't exist. Greg House didn't have healthy relationships. Especially not with a sexy ER nurse.

Before you started dating you were often lured to the clinic under false pretenses to see someone he considered interesting but it was just a way to see you. When his team failed to give him the answers he wanted, he would follow you around the ER and discuss his latest patient. You were always bubbly, smiling at his sarcastic remarks, and when he insulted your patients you always said, "Don't mind my friend here, he hasn't had his caffeine fix for the day."

You never turned him away. You were never exasperated by the amount of times he managed to trick you and when you started dating he realized you always knew it was a ruse, and went along with it anyway because you wanted to see him too.

Greg House didn't maintain healthy relationships. But for four blissful months, you did. And it terrified him.

Saying I love you opened doors he had long since locked. You admitted that you didn't need him to say it, but you wanted him to know how you felt. The next day you received his termination of your relationship and were stunned by how curt it was.

Once the knife stopped twisting, you realized you had expected this reaction and decided to give him time and space. For a week you pushed your feelings down, focusing on your job, and while he didn't visit you in the ER or get you to meet him somewhere in the hospital, you had felt the weight of his gaze more than once. He might not have spoken to you, but he still stopped by.

You did everything you could to stop thinking about the department head. Until a car crash victim died and everything came bubbling to the surface. You tore off your gloves and changed in the locker room, washing off the blood, and slumped on the bench, fending off tears that dried up as anger set in at how unfair it was that an eighteen-year-old was dead from a drunk driver.

When you made it to his department you noticed him on the balcony talking to James and stormed outside, gaining their attention.

"Uh, Y/N, h-hi -"

"Go away, Wilson."

"Right-o." He made a swift exit as House sighed, turning to look out at the view, resting his hands on the wall.

"I thought you'd crack sooner -"

"Shut up." You barked.

House raised an eyebrow, turning to look at you and seeing the tears in your eyes.

"You are an arrogant gasbag." His eyebrows rose at the insult as you were docile by nature. "What gives you the right to tell me how to feel? You don't. Do you think falling for you wasn't scary for me? Feelings are scary, Greg, and they feel like crap and sometimes they feel great and everything is butterflies and rainbows until an ego-maniac decides to stab you in the heart because he can't let himself be happy."

House listened quietly as you moved around, gesturing wildly with your hands.

"I know you are a gigantic pain in the ass. I know you're cynical. I know you use humor to keep people at arm's length but for a second, I thought that maybe you would finally let me in the door. And then you avoid me like I have the plague like a middle-grader! I mean, what the hell?"

You stopped pacing, finally meeting his gaze, and took a moment to catch your breath.

"Can I talk now?"

You rolled your jaw, nodding reluctantly.

"Come here."

You walked closer and when you were within arms reach, he brought you to his chest, kissing you hotly. You melted into his chest as he kept his balance by leaning on the wall. His arms wrapped around you, and the scent of his cologne made tears prick your eyes from how comforting it was.

The passionate kiss was the closest thing you would get to a confession. And right now that was enough.

[avaf00rd]

Engagement bliss

Leah Williamson x arnold!reader

“You’re gonna call me when you can yeah?” Leah asked as she held both your hands while you leaned into her body. You were both saying goodbye to each other as you were travelling to Florida with your Australian teammates for camp, while Leah would stay in England for Lionesses’s Camp.

Your first camp engaged.

As well as hers, but her first camp back since her ACL injury, you were on the edge of tears at the thought of how proud you were.

“Of course I always do” you said pulling her arms down slightly towards you that held yours, placing a long kiss on her lips

“Don’t loose it ay?” Leah said with a cheeky smile, pulling your left hand up in between your close met faces. Tapping the shiny ring on your finger.

“I won’t. Promise. Ditto yeah?” You said now holding up her hand with the ring you gave to her after she proposed. She interlocked both the hands that were up and kissed your knuckles. “Proud of you” you said softly. Maybe for the 10th time just this morning

“Thank you. I’m proud of you, always, but you know that” she said shrugging with a grin.

“Okay I should go” you said looking at your Watch, “I love you” you said kissing her again, lips lingering longer.

“Love you miss you already” Leah said, causing your face to scrunch up at the corny comment, you pulled away from her embrace and grabbed your suitcase she had wheeled in for you. You blew her a kiss before you walked up to Steph, Caitlin, Charli, Kyra and MacKenzie, your ‘London Aussies’.

“Fucks sake Throw me in front of a speeding truck already” Kyra groaned, dreading the upcoming flight, as you all walked towards your terminal

“Oh?” You and Steph said, concern and confusion.

“It’s just 9 and a half hours darling” you said rubbing the young girl’s head roughly.

“Come on pick up the pace” Caitlin said to the group, skipping, as you were all walking too slow the for the given time left you had the catch boarding

“I can’t” you said slowly as you yawned.

“Leah’s excited I’m assuming?” Your sister Mackenzie asked about Leah’s return to England Camp.

“Over the moon” you smiled as you nodded “I don’t know why she was sappier than usual about me leaving. While she’s barely gonna even think about me in camp”

“Please, The girl’s engaged and captaining England again. Yeah she’s on camp but I promise you she won’t stop thinking about you” she assured you as you both smiled. “Far out I’m gonna get so many messages from that girl, frantic, because she can’t reach you” you both laughed, reminiscing the multiple times that had happened.

“That’s because you always tell her I’ve been kidnapped or something!” “It’s funny!”

November 2023

Leah

Pick up

Why are none of the Arnold’s picking up my fucking calls

Why won’t y/n answer me

Tell me Macca

Pick up

She pinky promised to facetimeeee

Mackenzie

I don’t know she went for

a walk last night in the city

to clear her head and I

haven’t seen her come back yet.

Maybe try her again?

Wasn’t at breakfast

Leah

hehe funny

Macca

I’m serious. We r all concerned

Leah

I’m on a call with her now xx🖕

————————————

You could feel your body starting to give itself out slowly as you grew tired. You had been running some basic drills as you and your national team settled into the first session of the camp.

The Florida weather was nice, felt a bit more like home compared to England, but nothing like the Australian warm weather. You were excited at the reminder that you, Macca, Lani, Caitlin and Hayley would all head to the beach as soon as possible after training.

As you anticipated, all of your teammates that didn’t live in London and could not make it to your engagement dinner were fawning over your ring. Them just as excited as you. The Matilda’s media photographer had gotten you and Ellie to pose with your left hands up for a photo with both your rings.

Heaps of your national trainers commented on the fact that the engagement was radiant on your face and your energy was through the roof, causing you to smile ear to ear.

By the end the session, you were playing a game of 5-aside oztag. You had yourself, Sharn, Teagan, Michelle and Hayley on your team.

“Games over!” You exclaimed laying on the ground, when Caitlin had shoved you to the ground for the 10th time in the 20 minute game.

“Sore loser!” Caitlin yelled as she kicked the ball to your head before you quickly rolled away to dodge Caitlin’s good aim.

“That’s not even how you play” You yelled to your best friend as she made her way back from the try line.

“Yes it is” She laughed, whilst Michelle helped you off the ground.

“Great job today girls. Have a good afternoon I’ll see you tonight” Tony smiled at you all, letting you know you could head back to the bus.

On the bus you were leaned against the window, legs sprawled out against both seats in the row. Talking to Alanna who sat across from you in the same position. “I’m sorry again I couldn’t make it to your dinner last week” she smiled at you.

“Are you kidding me. I understand completely. Getting to see you here is just as amazing for me”

Alanna just laughed. Causing you to scrunch your eyebrows at her, you had only said something sweet.

“You sound so much like her” she laughed

“Who Leah?” You smiled

“Yes!”

“How” you couldn’t help but laugh

“The accent. You sound English now! You’re picking up on her too much. Don’t be turning English on us now y/n” you both laughed. “No but it was a nice offer from her for your dinner. And I love the fact that she told me she was going to propose before she did” Lani grinned.

“Did she actually” you said smiling

“Yes! She made a group chat” she said walking over to you, shifting your legs so they were now on top of her thighs and she took up the seat. Pulling out her phone to show you.

28 March 2024

Leah

Hello

Mackenzie

Hi

Alanna

Hiya

Leah

Alanna I’m gonna do it

Alanna

PROPOSE?!

Leah

yes😌

Alanna

Oh my gosh I’m about to cry

My lord

Oh my gosh she’s gonna be so so happy

She will bawl

Just know that

Oh my goshhhhhh eek eek

Why did you just direct that towards me

Mackenzie

I obviously know

Caitlin

I obviously know

Alanna

Point of the new group chat?

Leah

I don’t know you guys are

just her closest friends and

mean a heap to her so it just felt

right all together

Mackenzie

Aw shucks Leah too kind 🥹🥹

Caitlin

When do u plan on it?

I know you don’t want many

people knowing but i can tell

Katie right?

Too late

I did

She’s tearing up

And Vic and Teyah heard whoops

Leah

Cait!

Oh and this afternoon.

Mackenzie

WHAT THIS IS NEWS

Alanna

OMG

Caitlin

HUH I ANTICIPATED A MONTH

You couldn’t help but laugh at the small group chat your girlfriend has created. The texts managed to go on past your engagement when Mackenzie shared a video of the moment all of your teammates saw you and became obsessed with the ring. Which turned into them ganging up on you about something else, “Hang on” you stopped Lani from scrolling

“Uh uh!” She shoved her phone away making you both laugh.

“You better add me to that chat!”

“Never”

———————————

“Cmon!” you squealed. Pulling Caitlin’s hand as you both sprinted down the sand, Hayley filming the sweet moment. The sunset was electric and perfect. Around 10 of your teammates were already on the beach on a large blanket. Taking loads of photographs of the scenery surrounding you that you had all missed.

After 20 minutes of laying on Kyra’s lap and enjoying the water in front of you, talking with the people you missed most. The left pocket of your shorts started to buzz.

You immediately knew it was your fiancé, so you picked the phone up as you got up and walked away from the group. Every single one of them mocking the way you blushed and picked up the phone saying “hey baby”.

“Shove it up your ass” You yelled back at them as the mocking didn’t stop. You heard Leah’s warm chuckle on the other side of the phone.

“Who was that” she asked

“Most of the girls. They are mocking the way I talk to you” you said into the phone making you both laugh. “Tell me everything! Photos aren’t enough”

Leah talked on for ages about how camp was going for her. Friends, trainings, rooming alone, being engaged at camp, travel and the ‘too spicy’ food. The more she talked the more she managed the full your heart even more.

“What about you?” I’ve talked enough”

“Oh my girl I could listen to you for moths” you said softly “yeah it’s great. I’m very excited to play on Monday. Everyone is ready already” you said before hearing a few moments of silence on her end of the call “Leah?”

She just laughed

“What?”

“I was sent a video of you from a group chat of me, your sister, Alanna and Caitlin. You’re Looking relaxed on the beach there” Leah chuckled

“That damn group chat!” You exclaimed. “Add me to it! I’ve got fomo”

You did happen to be laying on the sand, by yourself, phone pressed up to your ear. In sight of your cheeky teammates. You sat up slightly to give them your middle finger.

“No we have a truce. We can’t add you. You don’t have fomo, you just don’t want us talking about you”

“Yeah fomo!” You said making her laugh again, “ and a truce?!”

“Haven’t lost the ring yet darling?” Leah said in that tone that could send you spinning

“Nup. I’m staring at it right now. Hoping you have yours on”

“Of course” she said

“I understand what everyone means. You really just can’t stop staring at it. Like it’s not even the ring it’s like the fact that it’s my engagement ring. From you”

“I can’t keep my eyes off of it. How could I. It’s a symbol of you” Leah said softly

“I love you. I need to go now they are packing up cause it’s dark now. I miss you Lee, I’m proud of you like you don’t even know”

“I’m proud of you. You call me when you get up in the morning. I’ll be sure to be awake. Love you, miss you”

“Bye” you both said before hanging up and you made your way up to the group that were half way up the beach waiting for you, you smiling in appreciation of it at them.

———————————

Leah

“Have you gotten the photos back?” Georgia asked me as I refreshed my email account on my laptop for the hundredth time.

“No. And it’s kind of frustrating. He’s taking a week longer than he said he would”

“What photos are we talking about?” Mary asked

“The professional photos from Leah’s engagement. They are taking too long apparently” Keira explained

“Mates probably sold them to the internet first” Mary shrugged

“Don’t joke about that” i laughed, worry lingering in my tone

“I thought you wanted the moment to be super private?” Mary asked

“No it was. There was no one else. He came like 20 minutes later, as well as our families. I managed to surprise y/n with her’s” I grinned at the thought of the moment as I explained to the three girls at the table

“Well I’m very excited to see them” Keira said

Me and y/n announced our engagement on our instagram via a simple selfie we took together just 10 minutes after I got down on one knee. She laughed brightly in the photo as we both held our hands with the rings up for the camera, me kissing her cheek, and a tear stained face y/n. As well as me posting a small snippet of the moment I first asked her. I had set my phone down to video, somehow without her batting an eye. We are both all for living in the moment.

But honestly, I knew getting to look back on it in a video would be so special with her.

We agreed we couldn’t keep it in for too long the next day, so could not possibly wait for the professional photos taken. Just two very excited people.

——————————

Y/n

While your Australian Captain and close friend Sam had unfortunately done her ACL, as was still out. You had been given the position to Captain your country whilst her injury. You would also officially Captain your country at the Olympics in July and August.

You were called up alongside Tony for MD-1 press conferences at camp whilst being captain. And you actually really enjoyed them.

“Ready y/n?” Tony asked as you got out of the car and were walking into the stadium. Pulling a thumbs up to the camera crew following you both for the Matilda’s all-access video.

When you were both later settled into the conference room, you shuffled your chair in closer to the microphone before it began. Questions were at first fired at Tony, on camp call up describes and inside training decisions made by the staff.

The first question that was directed to you made you smiled when the short lady started “Hello y/n, just wanted to start by congratulating you and Leah on your engagement last week” she smiled up at you

You laughed slightly and smiled wide back “Thank you very much I appreciate it” you nodded, motioning her to continue with the question before she asked you about the preparations in the team and how the team feels about being in sunny Florida.

“And also the team just- well you know we are coming from all around the world I would say, different seasons. And I know, coming from cold London that it is such a refresher being in this weather for walking around and relaxing purposes I guess”

“And training purposes I’m hoping?” Tony asked, making the room laugh

“That’s the most important one yes” You laughed

After 15 minutes, as the conference was soon to be closed. You got asked a question mentioning your engagement once again. “It’s your first camp being engaged. How does that feel?”

You tried to keep professional and not focus on your own relationship too much, “Yeah the support is real with this team, always is, and it radiates off the happy feeling we all get when we fly to camp. It’s all been, exciting for me and some of the girls have said the same to me so that’s a nice feeling” you said nodding towards her sweetly

“I’m hoping from y/n, this gives her a happy boost to get heaps of goals in on Sunday!” Tony says to you making you laugh and agree.

“We will end it there if there are no more questions, thank you everyone” the media manager announced

“Thank you” you mumbled quietly into your microphone before stepping out of the chair.

Receiving a text from your fiancé one you reached the car outside the stadium waiting to take you back to the hotel.

Leah

Spoken like a true Captain

Y/n

How did u watch that?

Leah

YouTube live darling😌

Y/n

I’ll be sure to watch yours then

——————————

You had played both games against Mexico and were leaving the hotel for the airport. It was 2am and safe to say the last thing you were in the middle for was getting on a nearly 10 hour flight. But the idea of Leah picking you up and getting to spend time with her at the end of the day motivated you not just fall asleep and miss your flight.

“Y/nnnn” Caitlin sung out as she opened your door. Bag of chips in her hand from the vending machine. “Time to go!”

“I could have been changing” you said, unplugging your phone charger from the wall

“Mm” Caitlin nodded, mouth full of chips “you should consider locking this” she tapped the door handle behind her before reaching for your suit case to wheel it out of the room, you following behind the your other bag as you closed the door.

12 hours later, you were finally out of security after they had to open your bag as hey suspected something. Which they were wrong about and apologised. And took out 10 minutes of your time.

All was pushed off your shoulders when you saw your favourite person standing in her jeans, your sweater, her favourite cream Uniqlo bag and a yellow bouquet of flowers in her hand.

It was a tradition for both of you whether Leah was at her own camp or not, she would greet you with a different colour of flowers and open arms at the airport when you reached London once again after camp.

You picked up the pace on your feet before letting go of your suitcase and jumping into her arms, sealing both your lips together with a kiss. Before she hugged you even tighter with a smile as you nuzzled your head into her neck, kissing her shoulder.

“I missed you” you said kicking your feet like a toddler in your fiancé’s arms, which she always found adorable and drove her crazy

“I’m sure I missed you more” she smiled before stealing your lips again and setting you down

“Hmm no” you said. Before she handed you the bouquet. “I love you. Thank you”

“My honour” she patted her chest in a jokingly matter, before you wrapped your arms around her neck again and kissing her for longer, and most definitely not for the last time that evening. “Hey you’ve still got it” she said softly as she held your left hand and caressing the finger the ring laid on.

You nodded with a smile whilst Leah wheeled your suitcase to her car as you walked. “I’m starving” you said watching her lift the suitcase into the trunk before you both settled inside the car.

“Good thing there is food in the back seat” you grinned, Leah turning on the car, you shot your head to the back seat to be met with nothing but some rubbish from Leah that had been there for weeks.

“Where?” You asked

“I’m joking” she mumbled before you slapped her shoulder hard “ow I’m about to drive” Leah whined

“That’s not funny!” You laughed

“You’re right it’s not. Let’s go get food now” Leah smiled at you sweetly and rubbing your thigh whilst she drove.

“Fine with me!” You smiled contently before grabbing the hand that rested on you before bringing it to your lips and kissing it “thank you fiancé”

Leah chuckled at the comment, making her cheeks warm up “that won’t stop until we actually get married will it?” She said

“Nah”

[fushiguruuzzzz]

₊˚ෆ ૮꒰BUNNY RABBIT꒱ა

“Your brain had been proven faulty long ago. But you remembered him, you had always remembered him. Because your heart knew him—maybe even long before your lifetime—and cherishing anything so dearly was stronger than any illness.”

Now playing :: Half Right – Elliot Smith

Yuta Okkotsu x F!Reader

Words — 1.4k

Contents — doomed romance, hospital romance if that’s a thing, terminal illness but I’m not educated on that stuff so it’s probably poorly written, death, grief, angst, angst, did I say angst

Yuta will make you fall for him again and again, as long as he needs to compensate for the fuzziness of your memory. Even as his body deteriorates and the days become harder, he takes pride in knowing you found it in you to remember him.

a/n — yeah I have no excuse this time this one fuckin hurts. Saw a gif of him being cute in the middle of this and almost cried bc I felt bad

There was a certain sort of comfort in forgetting. Rather than spending your days dwelling over past mistakes and the way you’d stuttered over your words in front of the class, you focused on reliving the bliss of roaming the hospital and its wonders for the first time. “The first time” had been replayed time and time again, and though your mind was functioning enough to tell that much, the past was such a blur that it felt as if every second was a life anew. Every breath was fresh air in a chest that never had the time to fill before it was drained once again. There was a euphoria to it, but what came after was the glumness of your gapings wounds and the yearning to remember what had caused them at all.You were a sheep left in the wake of the wolfs attack, yet his silhouette was so blurry and warped he might as well have been the farmer.

Somehow though, you were always able to make out one clear picture in the depths of your ill computing brain. Every time he came into view, every disheveled tuft of black hair and every shift in his gentle, familiar voice was burned into your mind. His sunken brown eyes always shined brighter than the sun peeking in through the hospital's thick window, and that was hard to forget.

What you were not bright enough to remember was the subtle shift in his body with every passing day, the way his voice only grew weaker with each fond call of your name. You were too focused on the way he lit up when your eyes met his, and even though his name only resided on the tip of your tongue, the way his hands cradled yours was with the gentleness of a thousand lifetimes spent cradling you. Your brain had been proven faulty long ago, but you remembered him, you had always remembered him. He was a constant in your brain because your heart knew him—maybe even long before your lifetime—and cherishing anything so dearly was stronger than any illness.

His very being felt as though it was intertwined with yours. From the way his thinning fingers slotted perfectly between yours to how delicately your pinkies interlocked with the promise that you’d see him tomorrow, he just seemed to fit.

He fit the image in your mind, fit beside you on the balcony when the sorrow of the nights quiet caught up to you, he seemed so utterly right in every sense of the word. What didn’t feel right was how still he lay atop the crisp white sheets of the hospital bed, the way his hand felt limp in your grasp as you squeezed, feeling the suffocating urge to call out to him but unable to bring his title to the front of your mind.

you didn’t remember much these days. Every detail, every word spoken to you was a line traced in the sand being swept away by the tide that was your awaiting demise. Everything was fleeting, a single beat never to happen again. No, you didn’t remember much, but you remembered the way his name felt on your tongue, sweet and gentle. You remembered the way his nose scrunched up like a bunny rabbit when he thought real hard, even though the knowledge of what the rodent even was had begun to fade. you just knew it looked like his face, and that was all that really mattered, wasn’t it?

But his skin was smooth now. A little sunken, but the lines and ridges etched in by every running thought had long faded, nothing but peace lied over his face, looking touched by nothing but the soft glow of the sunlight peeking in through the blinds. The mind was quiet, so was he. Without life there isn’t stress or nightmares or confusion, without life he became nothing but a shell of what once was. Without life he was just another fleeting memory, another thing yet to be washed away. Your hands felt shaky at the realization, as the moments passed and the body before you didn’t move. It didn’t shoot up or open its eyes or even breathe, because it wasn’t him any longer.

And for the first time, you stared down at his face and weren’t sure what you were looking at.

Not long after, you found yourself reaching into that dark cabinet beside your hospital bed, pulling out the worn leather journal, frayed by countless entries. It was more reliable than your mouth by now, holding the details of every day you couldn’t hold on to on your own. It was the sand slipping hastily through your fingers, landing on the paper and embedding itself in the pages, a manuscript of your journey together.

At the bottom of the very last page, there was an entry you didn’t quite recognize. The handwriting was just a little unfamiliar, the e’s too loopy and the q had the little hook on the end. No, it wasn’t yours. And when you took a closer look, squinting your eyes just a little further to make out the words, the culprit became rather obvious. Suddenly it was much more familiar, the e’s were perfectly loopy and the q’s were just how you liked them.

To my dear Y/N,

Before I actually get to the purpose of this letter (if you can call it that), I’d like to apologize for going through your personal belongings. I know this journal means a lot to you, it's the storage of memories you can’t hold on to. I always tried to be the hand that grasped them, but if you’re reading this, I know that I’m no longer here to do that. My hands shake as I write this, one of many signs that my body is giving up on me. Giving up on us. The doctors pass by my room and spare me sympathetic glances, but they don’t understand.

I don’t mind my own death. In a way, it’s a relief. I’ve spent years dreading it, and for the ache in my gut to turn to vast emptiness is oddly freeing. But I wanted to stay for you. I wanted to spend many more days watching your eyes light up with newfound joy, watching you relive the same love and hate over and over again, because I knew I was a part of it all. I wanted to make you keep falling in love with me, remind you of my name and its meaning as many times as I had to. But the stars didn’t align that way. Not in this universe, anyway. So now you will watch the light fade from my eyes and I will die knowing I might fade from your memory just as much.

That being said, I hope that you will open this notebook and remember our nights spent staring at the endless numbers of stars in the sky, and the way your skin felt against mine. Wait, sorry, that sounded sexual. I never saw you like that. I loved you purely. I hope you remember that. I hope you remember me, and though I’d never place that expectation on you, I can’t help but hope a reminder will do something. Even if I'm nothing but a blurry face, just know that my heart will always belong to you, even once it’s stopped beating. Even if you forget it ever beat at all.

You’ll be returning soon, so I think it's my time to sign off. Goodbye. Think of me once in a while.

Tears soaked the book below, making the ink thicken and expel, the words just as blurry as your memory had become. The thing that ached the most wasn’t even the entry—the proof that he’d once lived and that he’d loved you while he did it, it wasn’t the fact that the hundreds of shared moments that you held so close to his/your heart (but somehow just couldn’t grasp them) had died the moment his heart monitor flatlined—it was what was in the bottom left corner. A tiny doodle, messy but readable and undeniably his, a mess of loops and lines and innocent love. It stared up at you like it saw right through your silence—haunting familiarity that you knew was his. Something bittersweet coiled inside you, growing tighter the longer you looked at it. Right there on the very bottom corner of the very last page of your journal was a bunny rabbit.

Please don’t kill me please don’t kill me please don’t kill me please don’t kill me please don’t kill me please don’t kill me please don’t kill me please don’t kill me please don’t kill me please don’t kill me please don’t kill me please don’t kill me

Gen/jjk tags: @sh0ot1ngst4r @azinniyaa @kashee-h @fiannee @bubybubsters @lizbix @anotherwriternamedclara @ruruisru @mayyhaps

[machveil]

alright I know we’ve all talked about how johnny is a bush guy and honestly. bars. but it got me thinking about the why (the smell, obvi) and the how and the nitty gritty details.

start off with the facts: he didn’t ALWAYS know he was a bush guy. I love my beautiful pathetic man but I also strongly believe that part of his gym behaviors and simp tendencies stem from being a Loser in his youth. man was terminally bitchless. and that means, of course, that he watched truly SO much porn. and thanks to that influence, he spent much of his early adulthood thinking body hair on a woman or man was gross.

his path to enlightenment began in his first threesome. he proudly brags about the time he banged two chicks at once to his army buddies— and he did! but the reality might do less for those guys than it did (and still does) for johnny. some femme top and her pet butch took him home for the night, a little three person party to satisfy the craving for some strange. he’d planned for SOMEONE to spend the night face down ass up, just didn’t think it’d be himself. ariana and len had taught him the joys of pegging, body hair, and pad thai that night. he still sends them christmas cards.

from that day on it was him and his love of pubic hair against the world. fascinatingly, he isn’t as committed to other forms of body hair— whatever state of shaved or not his partners come to him is fine, so long oral involves him diving face first into bliss. he likes chest hair on a man, but he won’t weep the way he does when he sees a naked twig and berries. women with armpit hair? cute, but shave it if you want. just don’t leave his poor kitty out in the cold 🥺

and when he finally settles down with his girl (gonna go cis afab on this one bc it’s wish fulfillment for yours truly), best BELIEVE he is involved in that grooming routine. not in a controlling way (or not without prior consent, anyway). but as soon as he had the green light , hes buying the mildest hair oils, cotton underwear, the most unscented soap he can find! he wants his best friend to be comfortable and cared for!!!!! also you ig, whatever. he’ll even help with trimming every few months if it’s ABSOLUTELY necessary. just be prepared for him to pout the whole time. gently massaging his “favourite forest” (that one got him a kick to the head) is his most beloved pastime. he views cotton as the cleanest canvas for an artists masterpiece, folds his darlings panties with the care and admiration of a craftsman with the tools of his trade. there’s a special sort of hum in his chest as he tucks them into their shared intimates drawer, knowing he’ll see them on the other side when they smell musky and used and perfect.

AUGH i just live for Johnny being an absolute dog when it comes to being a munch+!!!!! (the plus is the hair). him coming home from a stressful day and peeling his sweet thing out of her knickers just so he can’t put his face down and kiss and smell and nuzzle. and half the time it’s not even sexual, he just feels so CLOSE to his partner at this, the most essential part of them. short of cracking open their ribcage and climbing in, it’s the best he can get to satisfy the part of him that craves the safety and closeness and comfort of them being one. FUCK he’s such a freak I wanna match it!!!!!!!!!

anon, I’m kissing your cheek, my Johnny thoughts have been loud lately and this scratched my brain just right. I don’t even have any notes, it was just a stellar take. shoutout to Ariana and Len, iconic

[freelancearsonist]

so scarlet, it was...

➔ post-outbreak Joel Miller x afab!Reader - series masterlist

➔ 1.3k words

➔ “Go ahead, yell your fucking head off. That’ll make everything okay, won’t it?”

➔ Rated MA for dark fic kinda, a/b/o themes (alpha joel, omega reader), established... situationship? i guess, pregnancy/contemplation of termination, contemplation of self harm, reader is not in a good headspace. one instance of vomiting, joel is not very nice, this fic in general is not very nice. takes place three years post outbreak. [please let me know if i missed any warnings so i can add them in :)]

➔ thank you so much to my darling @bitchwitch1981 for the prompt, i'm so sorry this is probably very much not what you wanted 🤣 extra special thank you to @perotovar for making this wonderful joel gif for me, if ur reading this ily <3

You’ve never actually used one of these things before. You’ve only read about them in books or seen them in movies from years ago, and they’ve only ever been an object of abject horror.

You understand why now, looking down at those two little lines on the stick cradled in your hand. You’ve never been quite so terrified in your life.

You never should’ve pocketed this test when you found it in that miraculously untouched drug store. You could’ve stayed blissfully unaware. Better yet, you should’ve been more careful. Three years of living like this has been more than enough to make you firm in your decision to never bring life into this broken world. This isn’t a place for a child, this is barely even a place for you. Every day is a fight, every waking moment is a nightmare. But you’ve been so careless with him and now it’s all crashing down, this blissful bubble where you can pretend that everything might be okay because you have the pack and, more importantly, him. 

You won’t have him for much longer when he finds out about this.

You wonder what it’ll take to right this wrong before he finds out about it. It must be pretty early, so maybe it won’t take much to reverse it. Maybe all you’ll have to do is bump into something just right, or trip over the right log.

The thought makes you sick–more stomach bile than anything else coming up because you’ve hardly had more to eat than stale beef jerky and some precarious berries in the past few days. Resources have been so slim; another reason this can’t be happening. You hardly have enough to tide you over, much less a child. And it’ll be even worse once the pack abandons you.

You bury yourself into the haphazard nest of blankets and his worn clothes, letting the heavy, musky scent of him soothe your wracking sobs. 

Maybe you should just accept your fate now, sacrifice yourself for the good of the pack. Everyone is going to die eventually, after all–sooner rather than later in this world. You’ve only been postponing the inevitable. They never have to know why you do it, and it’ll be one less mouth to feed. Two, technically, but they’ll never have to know that. He won’t even really miss you, it’ll be one less burden on his hands. On all of their hands.

You don’t hear them return early from scavenging–maybe because the volume of your own sobs drowns out any other noise. Or maybe because he can sense something is wrong as he enters the run-down little shack you’ve been holed up in for the past few weeks, and he softens his approach because of it.

Joel has never been quite as tender as he is when he takes you into his arms, pulling your face out of the pile of fabric to wipe at your tear-streaked cheeks.

“My omega, shhhh, I’m here. It’s okay,” he murmurs, wrapping you into his big, strong, safe arms. He doesn’t know. Maybe he thinks you had a nightmare, or you just missed him, or a million other things except the truth. But he doesn’t know, and you know he doesn’t know because you feel the moment he connects the dots. His eyes drop to the little white stick clutched tightly in your fist and his entire body stiffens like a board. Suddenly there’s no more warmth or comfort to his touch, nothing soothing about the pheromones drifting from him. He pulls away like you’re infected, and maybe you are. Maybe the thing that’s taken root in you is worse than cordyceps could ever hope to be.

You’ve never been terrified of him before. Joel is dark and brooding and imposing, but he’s only ever fought to protect you. His omega, who wormed their way under his skin despite him fighting it every step of the way. His omega, who’s been the only source of anything remotely close to comfort he’s had since outbreak day. His omega, who’s given him purpose in this dark world.

His omega, who’s betrayed him in such an unforgivable way.

“What the fuck.” There’s nothing but venom in his tone–he looks at you with pure disgust and your resolve crumbles.

Maybe there was a little, tiny, miniscule part of you that hoped it would be different. That he would be excited to be a father, or at least be understanding. But that hope dies so suddenly when you look up into his scowling face. He towers over you, dark eyes flashing with anger, and for the first time since you met him two long years ago you’re scared.

“You were supposed to be careful.” His voice rises further and further with each syllable, as if this isn’t partially his fault too. As if he wasn’t the one in such an uncontrollable rut last month that he kept you in bed all week, losing the willpower required to pull out with each powerful thrust of his hips. As if it isn’t his seed blooming in your womb as you speak.

“What do we do now, huh?” He growls, eyes darkening, fists clenching at his sides. “I’ve fucking marked you, I can’t turn you loose! And we barely make it by as we are! How the fuck are we supposed to handle this?”

He rants for what seems like hours and you flinch with every booming word, curling tighter around yourself in a desperate attempt to simply disappear; to not have to deal with this any more because your heart shatters with each irreversible word he throws at you. You shrink and shrink and shrink in hopes of vanishing because this is undoable. No matter what happens, nothing will ever go back to the way it was and that’s the knowledge that crushes you completely.

Your voice is so small when he finally quiets enough for you to speak. “Go ahead, yell your fucking head off. That’ll make everything okay, won’t it?”

Joel stops in his tracks, white knuckles unclenching for the first time in minutes. He sees the fear and regret in your eyes, and he almost lets it soften him. He loathes himself for this look on your face–for making you scared of him.

His omega. So small and fragile, curled in a pile of his clothes because his scent brings you comfort. He’s dedicated two years of his time and effort to keeping you safe and comfortable, if not happy. He’s supposed to protect you, not hurt you. He’s supposed to give you children and raise them with you, be a family with you. That’s what being your alpha means, and he has so sorely failed you. 

But he knows he can never do that again. That’s never what this was supposed to be. He didn’t mark you out of anything but necessity–if he had let your uncontrolled scent waft every time you went into heat, every alpha in the country would be targeting your little pack of four. You’re his omega out of biological necessity–a warm hole to fill when his rut threatens to tear already strenuous ties with his brother and Tess. That’s what he tells himself because the alternative is so startlingly incomprehensible that he won’t allow himself to even consider the fact that he might care about you; that the urge to care for you and protect you is more than primal, biological instinct; that you mean more to him than anyone ever has.

Not just his omega now, but his mate. His unborn child is growing and growing and growing with each passing second inside your womb and he’s powerless to stop it.

“We’re thirty-seven miles from the Boston QZ,” he growls from somewhere deep in his chest. “We leave at first light.”

You don’t get a chance to argue or plead your case before the door slams shut behind him. 

➔ beta: @beskarandblasters and @fhatbhabie

➔ Want to see more from me in the future? Follow @freelancearsonist-updates and turn on post notifications to be notified when I post new fics

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[literaryvein-reblogs]

Writing Notes: Cliché

A cliché is an expression that was once innovative but has lost its novelty due to overuse.

Tips on How to Avoid Clichés in Writing

Clichés play such a big role in how we communicate that it may seem impossible to avoid using them in your writing. However, clichés can often be rephrased to convey the same meaning as the original expression. Here are some steps to take if you find clichés in your work:

Think about the meaning of the cliché. Use a dictionary to identify synonyms that could replace the word or phrase that is cliché.

Decide whether or not you need to include the cliché. Often, clichés are unnecessary placeholders in writing and can be deleted.

Rewrite the sentence with new words in place of the cliché. For example, if you’re describing a musical with the cliché “comes full circle,” the description could be changed to say that the musical “returned to the themes with which it started.”

Common Clichés to Avoid

There are a number of clichés that are so overused that they should be avoided like the plague (including that one). Here is a list of clichés you should avoid.

“The wrong side of the bed.”

“Think outside the box.”

“Loose canon.”

“A perfect storm.”

“Can of worms.”

“What goes around comes around.”

“Dead as a doornail.”

“Plenty of fish in the sea.”

“Ignorance is bliss.”

“Like a kid in a candy store.”

“You can’t judge a book by its cover.”

“Take the tiger by the tail.”

“Every rose has its thorn.”

“Good things come to those who wait.”

“In the nick of time.”

“If only walls could talk.”

“The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.”

“The pot calling the kettle black.”

“The grass is always greener on the other side.”

“Beating a dead horse.”

Example: “As red as a rose” —a universal descriptor for the color red that is now commonplace and unoriginal.

Other examples of clichés include demarcations of time, such as “in the nick of time” and “at the speed of light.”

Clichés also include expressions about emotions, such as “head over heels” to describe love, and the phrase “every cloud has a silver lining” to express hope in difficult situations.

The word “cliché” comes from French.

It was first used to describe a stereotype: a metal plate used for printing an image.

Both the words “cliché” and “stereotype” derive from printing jargon but now have negative connotations.

Why You Should Avoid Clichés in Writing

Overused clichés can show a lack of original thought, and can make a writer appear unimaginative and lazy.

Clichés are often specific to language and cultures and may be a communication barrier to international readers.

Some old clichés have been repeated for so many years that the original reference is archaic and irrelevant.

When it’s OK to Use Clichés in Writing

There are a few instances in which the use of a cliché as a literary device is acceptable, but clichés should always be chosen wisely. Here are some examples of admissible usage:

To sync with a readership. Clichés of idiomatic phrases and slang words can work for specific audiences. If you’re writing for a baby boomer audience, the cliché “back in the day” would make sense. By contrast, millennial readers would be familiar with the cliché “the struggle is real.”

To simplify. Clichés can be used to explain beginning level concepts. For example, a how-to guide for expectant mothers might use the phrase “Remember, you’re eating for two!”

For characterization. Writers might have a character use clichés to demonstrate that they are not an original thinker.

A thought-terminating cliché is a phrase that offers a reductive answer to a complex idea.

The term was popularized in the 1961 book Thought Reform and the Psychology of Totalism: A Study of ‘Brainwashing’ in China by physiatrist Robert Jay Lifton.

They are also known as semantic stop signs or thought-stoppers.

Here are some examples of thought-terminating clichés:

“To each his own.”

“You win some, you lose some.”

“I’ll cross the bridge when I get there.”

“Take it or leave it.”

Source ⚜ More: References ⚜ Writing Resources PDFs

[squiddy-god]

A confession to a fae

(Lilia vanrouge x reader)

Re-upload from terminated blog squid-god-supreme, this is in a similar style to captured, basically, this is more general Lilia leaning, long hair Lilia supremacy

CW : nothing much, reader is low key down bad, kinda stalking? Watching from afar? "My most cherished one"

1.5k

Who was he? That mysterious man who walked the stone path of your small cottage in the dead of night? He who stalks the trees and befriends all creatures of the night. Who is he, you wonder? 

He whose eyes glow crimson and whose pupils are not but slender slits of pitch black. You wondered who he was as you glanced with blurred vision and bated breath out the window to catch only a glimpse. 

The thought and curiosity plagued you and you worked in your garden, soft soil giving way as you dug and pulled weeds, harvested the plants you grew. The tall trees cast dancing shadows but let light flicker through, it was calm, peaceful. "Hello there my dear" you jumped and looking up there was now a figure in front of you, Dressed in a long robe the deep set hood concealed his face. He was tall, not unreasonably so but enough to make note of, he leaned only slightly against the stone wall separating the two of you. Covered in moss and discolored from years of the forest encroaching on pale stone it only came up to about waist height. He let out a chuckle at your alarm "do not fret little one, I mean no harm to you" "o-oh well 'morning" 

That was how it all began, the mysterious man showing up by that garden wall to chat, the lovely weather, the kingdom of which you hail, and the woods that you call home. He had the most pleasant stories, of dragons and swords clashing, of night walks with ghosts and of history long passed, from dusk till dawn in bliss you were held captive by the words he spoke as you tended your garden. 

"Ah drats!" You mumbled as you searched for the jar of wild herbs and mushrooms you needed, only to realize that you had run out. "Fine I suppose I'll go get more" you sighed, lacing your boots and grabbing the shallow basket you used for things like this, with that you headed off. 

Deep now in the forest and basket weighed with herbs and edible mushrooms, a few berries, and flowers you could grow you felt a cold touch on your hand. 

Stumbling back the basket landed after you, miraculously nothing split as it contacted the ground. "Apologies my dear" the cold touch was back, now in front of you kneeled the man who leaned against your garden wall, his pale hand grasping yours as it was lifted to his lips. 

Were his footsteps like rain? Silent and peaceful, you wondered as the sunlight danced with shadows if this man was the same who stalked the night with such luster. If he who held your hand in tender reverence was he who walked the path of your cottage before the sun kissed the sky. 

"It's alright, you just startled me haha" you got up, watching as he rose up, his cloak fell to conceal his ivory and alabaster pants and cuffed black leather boots. "I come here often, this tree is quite nice, perhaps I'll no longer be the only one who visits?" He extended his hand, nails sharp and pitch black. "Is that an invitation?" You took his hand. 

"Fufufu of course my dear" 

This man who you were so enraptured by was a constant question in your brain, so it was no shock that as you awoke and lit your lantern you spotted from that window by the bed, a figure dancing through the trees and got up. Heading to the kitchen then to the stone wall by the garden you left a bowl of tomato soup you had made earlier and heated up by fire. 

As morning breathed life to day you awoke again and went out to your garden, there against the wall with his back turned was the man.His vest a polished pine green embroidered with blush pink thread showing ferns and snapdragons, red dahlias and columbine flowers. The short half cape that rested on his shoulder and draped over one of his alabaster sleeves was dark slate gray and lined with silver. “Hello again sir” you greeted him like any other day and he turned to you with a fond smile. He was handsome, his striking blood red eyes set against the pale white skin and the slight dark tint to his eyes and lips. His hair was long and black, with streaks of pink and the underside bright fuchsia. His appearance was striking, especially his smile and the fangs that peaked out. “Good morning my dear, thank you for the gift you left me on the evening of last” you smiled, proud of the work you put into that soup and glad he enjoyed it. “I can't let a gift go unpaid, so before the sun bids my farewell would you invite me to repay your generosity?” “you don't have to, but if you insist!”.

Just like that he lept over our stone garden wall, his black boots lifting him up before hitting the cobblestone path. A cold hand to yours and before you knew it you were spinning, his hand at your waist and the other holding your hand. “My gift to you today is a dance through dawn.” no rhythm played in the air yet as you danced in his embrace the world seemed to be alight with beautiful melodies, his eyes held stories that ruptured your heart and made your feet sway effortlessly with his.

You wondered if this man was human, he who stalks the trees, he who dances to no music yet keeps rhythm, he who leans over the garden wall. They say you should not dance with the fae, for once you do it’ll never be the same without, you wondered if that was what he is, if his eyes hold more than lonely longing affection but his gaze always seems to silence these thoughts. 

He was beyond the garden wall now, no longer the mysterious figure but the charming man, he sat under the tree in your garden and told you stories now, occasionally he would play tunes on his bagpipe and you would dance and clap in tune when not tending your garden. He often brought flowers, lovely flowers that you had never seen, ones that never wilted and ones that bloomed in the dead of night. He also brought honeyd words and sweet glances, saying he was once lonely but had found you. The man spoke of magic and mages, you had confessed that you had no magic like others and that this was the reason you moved out to the forest. He showed you magic as you danced, the sparkling of light that spun and twirled around the air as his appearance changed before your eyes, and as yours morphed to match his own.

“I spend so much time with you now,” you pondered shifting and turning towards him “yet i don't know your name” his breath seemed to pause, a dead calm and for a moment you wondered if you had messed up. “Fufufu my my what a question to ask me, you who walk beyond thorns have not a clue what power a name holds” his answer confused you, the power a name holds? “But, you are indeed my most cherished one, so perhaps I will tell you” how he adored the way your eyes gleamed at the words he spoke. “First you must follow me cherished one~” he was up in a second and you followed.

Soon you looked down to see a stone path, the trees grew more dense and you realized you had never been this deep into the forest before. “Sir- uh my love?” “Yes darling?” Even with golden light trickling through dense leaves his eyes almost glowed the most brilliant red. “Where…are we going?” he laughed. “Fufu you will see soon enough. 

You walked deeper and deeper until only sparse light flooded in small beams and nature had entirely consumed the land, remnants of castles long taken by lakes and claimed by the forest. Even the path you realized had disappeared some time ago, your only guide was the man in front of you. The almost silent sound of his steps stopped and you ran into his back, soft fabric cushioning your blow. “H-huh?” before you in the dim lighting was what looked to be a wall of trees and thorny vine, they twisted and curved suspiciously to form a perfect circle. It was lighter on the other side but almost the same, except for the cobblestone path that emerged covered in moss. 

“This my dear, is the price for such power over me.” he stepped through and nothing seemed to happen. “Simply follow me, til the end of eternity” and before your eyes he vanished. Your eyes were wide as saucers as you stood before the circle gateway. “Alright” you said more to the memory of his figure, one foot after the other onto the other side. 

Now you stand, in a small clearing, the circle arch long gone as your feet touch the cool stone. Chilling arms and soft linen fabric wrapped around you as the ghost of a breath blew gently against your ear.

“Lillia, lillia vanrouge~” 

[ratgirlexe]

To wrap up my thoughts on HDG as horror, now that I’m no longer in severe pain and writing my thoughts at 3 am:

I think the best summary of it all is that it’s hard for me to go into any given story and feel truly horrified, because I know on a meta textual level that everything is going to work out in the end, and the characters will likely be happier than when they started. I don’t know how to suspend my disbelief in the idea that ultimately things will work out, so even if the main character goes through any number of acts which are horrifying in *theory*. I almost empathize more with the affini putting them through that experience, more so than the character who’s point of view I’m seeing things from.

Are you a rebel feralist being put through awake surgery for your haustoric implant? It might be the scariest experience of your life, but that just means you get to be a floret now! You’ll have someone to care for and love you forever, and you’ll never have to be alone. Give it a week and you’ll be thanking them for doing so.

How about if you’re a terminally ill patient at end-of-life, or in excruciating pain that even the affini can't somehow solve? That's okay! We'll get you on a nice tasty regimen of class-O's, and you'll never hurt or be afraid again. There will be nothing but unending bliss, and you won't even realize that you're hurting. Not all suffering can be prevented, and eventually it all has to end, but heaven is real, and we've placed it inside you. Even in that last situation, which is the most personally scary to me, there's a certain level of bitter sweetness to it all. Maybe it's just the pain I've been in, but there aren't quite as many ways to end someones life that are as kind as bliss never-ending.

Ultimately I think it's just the fact that I know the affini are benevolent within the story, which makes even the most harrowing or scary events take on a more lighthearted tone for me. Yes, getting to where you want to be, where you *need* to be can be really scary. I'm autistic. Change is terrifying, change is death, and some changes can feel too monumental to ever surmount on your own. But to me HDG is a true escapist fantasy that says "Even if this change is scary, even if you can't choose to change for the better, even if the process hurts or makes you feel like you're dying, I'll be here with you to hold your hand and guide you through it. You don't have to go through it alone, and by the end you'll be able to blossom into who I know you can be."

And to me that's just not scary or horrifying. That's something that I yearn for each and every day.