#the pain that is trying to make a human connection when the talking part is SCARY!!!!!!! 😱

[dustyhyena]

bbbbbbbbbbbbb how do yall talk to people and make friends

what this shit so HARD FOR!!!!!!!

[raitonsfw]

bsd men: first time edition

characters: nakahara chūya, nakajima atsushi, & dazai osamu.

warnings: 18+ mdni, smut, fem!reader, virgin!reader, loving!chūya, virgin!atsushi, smug!dazai, positions: missionary (chūya's & atsushi's) & riding (dazai's), p in v intercourse, slight clit play, premature ejaculation (atsushi's), kissing, praising, pining, slight dirty talk, consent, hint of pain, some uncertainty, new sensations, chūya's part feels poetic to me (almost cried writing it), atsushi ruins his trousers hehe (he's so cute), dazai's quite big ahem- (iykwim).

a/n: why not start a tiny bsd series with sharing their first times with you? probably a v popular idea, but we always need more variety you know? wc: 1.9k m.list

next up: bsd men: first time edition pt 2. (nikolai, fyodor, & sigma)

divider credit: @hitobaby

❝𝐧𝐚𝐤𝐚𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚 𝐜𝐡𝐮𝐮𝐲𝐚'𝐬❞ first time with you goes exactly as planned. a bottle of wine waited for you in the kitchen afterwards as he delicately hovered over you with an intoxicating smile. he didn’t want to drink beforehand– this moment was too important to get wine drunk over, too intimate to get lavished from the red liquid and you appreciated the gesture. 

the silk sheets kissed your skin, felt underneath you with a cold sheen and you reveled in the way his mouth tasted like you were his wine; sweet and delicate to the touch as his tongue lapped into your mouth. careful not to break – not to shatter you – as his gloved palms ran over the flesh of your hips, soft fingertips dipping into the innate crevices of your body. 

when he pushed into you, there was a hint of pain– but it was completely erased by the gentleness of his fingers soothing against your blushed cheeks. you felt at ease in his arms, your hands shielded over his lithe figure, and he knew his back would soon be littered with scratches. your legs wrapped around him as he settled deep inside you– waiting for you to adjust to the imploring feeling of being connected. 

“it’s okay, darling– tell me when i can move. i’ll make sure you feel so good…” 

“fuck you’re so tight around me… can’t think straight–”

and you loved that of him. you adored the way he looked at you, his rich eyes searching for any discomfort and brushing it away. his humanity shone through and you wondered how he could possibly think that such a cherished feeling wasn’t human itself? he had held back a groan when he sank into you, your walls hugging him tightly with a sharp inhale coming from you but now his voice failed him as you prompted him to move.

a low groan escaped his lips as he pulled out of you gingerly and thrusted back in, your mind nearly going numb at the first stroke. for such a tiny man, he surely knew how to curve thickly inside you– his cock nudging against the sweet bundle of nerves. you let out a quiet moan, your head tipping back onto the pillows and your entire body relaxing against his. everything seemed to have melted away as he took to a languid rhythm, soft kisses against your neck and chest littering your skin.

every time you squeezed around him, his eyes would roll back and he’d jolt inside you– his hips stuttering and a tiny curse expelling from him until he held eye contact with you. and god, did that make you feel gorgeously exposed – piercing blue staring back at you with such intimacy drawn in them, it made your heart flutter and dance. you couldn’t help but take his roseate cheeks into your hands, capturing him into a searing kiss that he thought about for days on end afterwards. 

you were so caught up within your pleasure, you didn’t have time to tell him you were close but he knew way before you did; quiet praises coaxing you closer and closer to your release.

“c’mon, give it to me sweetheart– yes…” 

and when you came, it was a blossoming feeling. your body shook with pleasure and chūya could barely hold his own, desperately trying not to cum yet but failing miserably as you let out those pretty little moans for him. 

your back arched against him, both of your chests touching and with a light hand, he subconsciously swiped it over the small of your back to keep you in place with his ability caressing you so you wouldn’t slump against the bed too harshly. 

“so good for me, y/n… had me losing my mind.”

❝𝐧𝐚𝐤𝐚𝐣𝐢𝐦𝐚 𝐚𝐭𝐬𝐮𝐬𝐡𝐢'𝐬❞ first time with you is also his first time. you knew he was a virgin beforehand, his slight jumpy actions whenever you placed your hand on his thigh– dare you try to go further with him, his whole face would turn red and you’d think it was the cutest thing ever. 

when you finally made the move on atsushi, his lips wouldn’t work properly as he stuttered out ‘a-are you sure, y/n?’ and you’d just melt at the way he laid back for you when you straddled him with a passionate kiss. you just had to shut him up or else you’d second guess yourself even though you wanted him to practically mount you since the day you met him at the agency.

you’d be so fucking careful too– careful enough as to not scare him away, he was always so flighty when it came to intimacy. but this time, he seemed to revel in every muted touch to his body. your fingers would trail down his chest, toying with his suspenders and your other hand would thread into his hair– the swayed black highlight in it slicking back as he got more needy with each kiss. 

his hands would fly to your hips, your clothed cunt flush with his stiffened cock– and you’d make the mistake of grinding down onto him. he’d cum in his trousers seconds after, a choked moan escaping him against your lips and it’d turn you on sooo much. it’s like he was reliving his teen years, freshly sixteen and barely able to contain his horniness when he felt a woman’s touch for the first time.

as you pulled away to look at him, he’d turn his head away with a quiet ‘sorry’ slipping from his mouth and god, if you weren’t wet then… you’re soaked now. you’d tease him– ‘atsushi, never had a pretty girl grind on you? how cute…’ to which he’d respond with simply rolling you two over in bed, him now on top of you.

“if you’re really sure, we can do it this way.”

“w-would you like that?”

and now it’s your turn to go red in the face, your legs parting to let him in. with shaky fingers, he’d undress you– each article of clothing ending up near the end of the bed and he’d take every opportunity he had to ogle at your figure. you looked so beautiful underneath him– him of all people – and he was certain if he touched his cock now, he’d explode. 

and when you wrapped your hand around him to guide him in, thank god he didn’t; his insides shifting as you gave him a small smile. the tip of his cock nudged up against your entrance and you both looked down as he sunk inside you. a gasped moan met you, which you swallowed up early– your own whines in tune with his as he started to move inside you. 

“l-love you soo much– you okay baby?”

you’d nod every time he asked, your mouth ghosting over his neck and his shoulders as he buried his head into yours– every thrust feeling so overwhelming to you but it felt so good… for as long as it lasted at least. his hips had started stuttering into you, quiet pants and whimpers leaking into your ear as his high caught up to him quickly. he couldn’t stop from stringing out your name in a long drawn moan either, his eyes squeezing shut as he reached his second orgasm within the hour.

“‘m so sorry… g-gonna cum–!”

he stilled in you, weakly shuddering through his release and you massaged his back softly as he collapsed against you after. his cum dripped out of you, around his own cock as he didn’t even manage to pull out and you’d pepper kisses into his skin. atsushi would mumble out some nonsense, presumably a ‘thank you’ and once he came to, you knew he’d return the favor– with your guidance of course. 

❝𝐝𝐚𝐳𝐚𝐢 𝐨𝐬𝐚𝐦𝐮'𝐬❞ first time with you goes…not exactly how you expected. with the exception of his bandages loosening underneath your grasp and his urge to just straight up bounce you on his cock, you didn’t know what you had gotten yourself into. 

he insisted on you riding him the first time– that way if anything happened you could just get off of him and that was that. definitely not because of the way your figure was practically on display for him, your breasts jiggling and your pretty pussy fluttering around him as you sunk down unassuredly. 

you didn't know where to put your hands so they ended up fluctuating between holding them against your chest and resting them against his sternum, pressing deeply as another wave of pleasure rolled through you when you leaned slightly forward. his cock nestled up right against your cervix, curved upwards long and thick and you nearly died on spot when he first pulled it out. 

you knew dazai had been packing, but you didn’t really think twice about it until it was prodding against your entrance. the head of it slipped past your folds and you had gasped out, his bandages nearly tearing from the sheer grip you had on them. and then he bottomed out and… oh, wow– you never felt so full in your entire fucking life. 

“that’s it, good girl– took me like a champ.”

“how ‘bout you put on a show for me?” 

you didn’t know what he meant, but you tried your best as you lifted yourself up on his cock– the crown catching lightly against your hole and sinking back down onto him quickly. your hands quaked, a bit of pain shooting through your abdomen before dissipating as you moved more fluidly on him.

you looked at dazai halfway through, half-lidded eyes meeting yours and suddenly, you understood why people have sex now. his entire face was smug, his mouth open in silent pants, and his bangs stuck to his forehead with his arms crossed behind his head. it was hot– the way his eyes followed the bounce of your breasts and the movements of the back of your thighs smacking down slightly against his own. 

he wasn’t very loud, which you had coined him to be before but maybe you had to wait. with his lustered personality, you were sure he’d pipe up near the end, his hips starting to work against yours with a searing grasp against your own hips. 

he practically moved them for you, lifting you up and down against him with little waver and his eyes rolled back when you clenched around him, a cry leaving your mouth as he nudged your sweet spot. 

“right there, hm? use your words, baby.”

your voice was broken apparently as you could barely form his name on your tongue, overwhelming pleasure coursing through your entire body as he fucked up into you earnestly now. you couldn’t hold back your moans anymore, same with him – you knew it – his low groans filling the air now with every thrust. 

you felt so good around him, tight and now made to fit his cock personally. he only ever wanted his cock buried deep in you from now on, no one else’s; you were his until the day you two decided the afterlife. 

your orgasm fluttered up your spine, quick and brutal until it was right there and you tried to tumble off, a sharp whine escaping you. you looked to dazai for help, a needy look too and he cooed at you with a smirk. 

“yeah, gonna cum on my cock? how darling. cum for me, y/n.”

his fingers grazed your clit, rubbing it expertly and your orgasm washed over you within seconds. you were too far gone to notice the tiny whimpers that escaped the brunette as you convulsed on his cock, the desperation that overtook him as he watched you fall apart– his vision went white when he came inside you. 

yeah, this wasn’t exactly what you expected but you wouldn’t have had it any other way. 

[sakur4ii]

Rooted Connections Pt.2

Charles Xavier x Reader x Erik Lensherr

the gender of the reader is not specified

Note: I will not make a third part, I hope you like it. Also reminder that English is not my first language, let me know if there are any mistakes I didn't notice (especially with pronouns).

Summary: feelings come out, plants love romance and you are still as blind as in the first part.

Finally, peace.

After supposedly saving the future from great chaos, Charles decided to reopen the doors of his school, offering you to stay with him. You accepted because you didn't want to leave him alone, feeling his sadness through the earth. Although in reality, he wasn’t alone; he now had his students, but the connection the three of you had created was so strong that you feared that if you also left, he would break again.

Years have passed, and now the school is full, and you are a teacher.

You walk through the halls, searching for something, maybe someone, though you’re not sure. The mansion’s plants have warned you but haven’t specified anything, so you proceed cautiously, trying to find some intruder.

"Professor Y/N,” you hear, a voice you know well.

“What is it, Jean?” You turn around; you can’t see her clearly, but you can feel her nerves and hear her heart beating faster than usual.

“Someone is approaching from the backyard.”

Before she finishes speaking, you are already running to the backyard. The plants don’t want to reveal anything, and for some reason, you don’t feel any unusual presence, leading you to assume that the earth doesn’t want you to know who the intruder is on purpose.

Once your bare feet touch the green, damp grass, you stop feeling the presence of everyone at the school except for the person sitting on the grass a few feet away from you, and Charles, who is coming up behind you.

You take slow steps toward the seated person, hearing a gasp behind you. You sit down next to him and wait for Charles to come closer until he is on the other side of the man.

“What are you doing here, Erik?” Charles asks. You can feel his conflicting emotions through his voice. On one hand, he is happy to see him again and that it isn’t to stop him from killing all of humanity and condemning mutants. On the other hand, he’d love to punch him again for prioritizing revenge and abandoning him.

But you focus more on the absolute pain you feel from Erik through the earth. You can feel him mourning, yet also very angry, seeking comfort to avoid vengeance.

When Charles doesn’t receive any response, and you can assume he also starts to feel the man’s emotions, you wrap your arm around Erik’s shoulders, pulling him into a side hug, enough for him to start crying.

“I tried,” he sobs into your neck, while Charles sits on the ground, leaving the chair aside and firmly holding Erik’s hand between his own. “I tried to live like them, to blend in, and they… they killed my wife and daughter.”

You don’t know what to say; you don’t know how to comfort him with words, so you just rub his back. You know Charles is afraid of saying something wrong, something that will only make the situation worse, so both of you remain silent, comforting your old friend (and the third missing piece of the puzzle) through gentle touches.

“I didn’t know where else to go… you’re all I have left.”

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

You weren’t born blind; you had the privilege of seeing the color of the sky and vegetation. You had the privilege of having a favorite color, but an accident occurred, and it was no longer worth thinking about things like a favorite book or a favorite flower because you couldn’t see anything anymore.

Plants are very talkative; they always have been. They love to gossip, and they love drama. The day before the accident, they were very hysterical, sensing something bad was coming, but they couldn’t say what.

Then the accident happened, and you were hospitalized. The plants felt guilty, apologizing over and over, even the plants you didn’t know but who knew you, apologizing and feeling ashamed that they hadn’t been useful, that they couldn’t prevent the tragedy.

It was when you lost your sight that your powers began to manifest: control of the earth, the ability to feel through it. Your mentors were the plants, the trees, and the earth itself. You learned that you could see through the roots of trees, and that was an easy way to find something or someone.

When you met Charles, even before the man arrived at your house, the plants were more talkative than usual. They told you everything they knew, like how Logan was from the future and needed help, your help. But they mostly talked about Professor X and a puzzle. You couldn’t understand them, but their excitement amused you.

When they freed Erik from that cell, the plants began talking non-stop again, once more about a supposed puzzle and Erik’s entire life, about how angry they were with some of his actions but how much they appreciated him.

The first time they fell completely silent was when Erik shot Raven; the second was when Erik fled to avoid being captured.

The third time you didn’t understand the silence; you were listening to Charles reading to his younger students, and out of nowhere, the plants fell silent, a mourning silence.

And the fourth time was the day after the third when Erik appeared unannounced at the school. Although it was more for drama—did I mention they are dramatic?

Erik stayed at the school, purposely obtaining the room that was between yours and Charles’.

If before the plants always talked about Charles, Erik, and his family and the children at school, now, whenever you entered your room, they only talked about Charles and Erik. You only heard about the children if you went outside.

A couple of years have passed. Erik is visibly better, happier, and that makes you happy because it’s real, he’s not pretending, and you’re the first to know that.

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

Your room is a madhouse; you feel like you’re losing your sanity. They won’t stop talking about how handsome, intelligent, and kind Charles is, or how hot, serious, and cunning Erik is. They have the audacity to tease you for not being able to see them, those bitches. When did they go from remorse to mockery?

“What time is it?” you ask, tired, sitting on the edge of your bed while putting on your sunglasses. They all ignore you, except for some jasmine flowers Charles gave you for your birthday along with some heart-shaped sunglasses.

You leave the room, grateful for the silence the hallway plants give you. You don’t know what to do; maybe you’ll go to the kitchen and eat some ice cream, you’re not sure.

When you arrive at the kitchen and take out a tub of ice cream and a spoon, you’re surprised that no plant has told you not to eat something so cold in the middle of the night, raising your suspicions.

You focus on the earth, sensing how all the children and adults are sleeping, everyone except Xavier and Lensherr, which makes you sigh tiredly.

Lately, the plants not only wouldn’t stop talking about them, but they also did everything possible to ensure you spent most of your time in the same room with them, and you only complied because deep down, you wanted that too.

You finish the ice cream and walk through the halls to Charles’ office, without any obstacles in the way (the children make sure not to leave anything lying around that might hinder you, even though they know you could easily avoid it; they fear you might get distracted and have an accident).

—“Come in”— you hear in your head, making you jump in place, and some nearby flowers laugh.

You open the door, and for some reason, they’re both sitting on a three-seater couch. Charles’ wheelchair is set aside to not get in the way, and the plants laugh conspiratorially.

«Speak of the devil…» a flower murmurs, sparking your curiosity.

“Can’t sleep?” Xavier asks. You shake your head. The other man is silent; you know he’s watching you, his intense gaze on you. Sometimes you think he has the power to read souls and keeps it a secret.

Charles laughs at your thought, but you don’t notice him elbowing Erik to stop being so obvious.

“Come sit with us, darling.”

The flowers and plants in the room react as if the pet name was directed at them, as if expressing what you don’t dare express even in your own head for fear the telepath might discover your feelings.

Smiling, you approach the couch. Erik, the closest to you, takes your hand and guides you to sit between them.

“What were you talking about?” you ask.

“Nothing important; we were just planning to take the older kids on a field trip, maybe,” Charles responds, and you know he’s not lying, but from the booing of the plants, you can tell that wasn’t what they were discussing before you arrived.

Erik remains silent; you can’t figure out why. Lately, you can’t sense his feelings, only his emotions, and you can guess that the earth is hiding them on purpose—or maybe the metal?

What you do sense is his knee brushing against yours and his gaze trying not to linger on you for too long.

You tilt your head to one side, sharpening your hearing, trying to pick up something more; you don’t know what, but you want to hear all their movements and, above all, the beating of their hearts.

Just when you perfectly hear their rapid heartbeats, the plants start making a ruckus, making you frown.

“What’s wrong?” Erik finally speaks.

“Why don’t the plants want me to hear your heartbeats?”

Unbeknownst to you, Erik and Charles share a wide-eyed look of complicity.

—“We should tell her”— Erik.

—“Now?”— Charles.

The silence between the two men creates a lump in your throat. Since that day on the plane, you felt like you were missing something in the dynamic, all because you couldn’t see. You felt out of place in moments like these, where they might be communicating with just a glance—or worse, telepathically. You hated the thought that they were having secret conversations, thinking that they were using the fact that you couldn't see to communicate in secret. And you hated knowing they were communicating because you could feel the change in emotions through the ground, but what you hated even more was that now you couldn't even feel the emotions of the two men because nature decided to turn its back on you this time.

Tired, you get up from the couch.

"Sorry for interrupting your time alone, I'm going to bed."

You avoid the obstacles you can't feel now but know are there.

"Y/N, no, wait! It's not what you think, let me explain," Charles says, while Erik gets up and runs towards you, grabbing you so you won't escape (and without you knowing, preventing you from bumping into the closed door).

"Listen to them, listen to them, listen to them," the plants chant in unison as you squirm in his grip. The earth allows you to see through your feet again, finally letting you feel the emotions of the two men, which makes you stop struggling and fall into shock at what you're sensing.

"You two are in love," you whisper.

Erik leads you back to the couch and sits you down so that you're facing the telepath, while he hugs you from behind and hides his face in the crook of your neck. He's embarrassed.

Charles gently removes your sunglasses, and you can feel his emotions not just through the ground but also inside your head. He takes your hand in his.

"We’ve been debating whether or not to tell you; we didn't know how you'd react, darling."

"So much secrecy just to tell me you two are dating? I'm not homophobic if that's what you were worried about," you say with an amused smile.

You're sure both men are rolling their eyes.

«Don't be an idiot» a flower says.

"Shush."

Charles laughs while Erik raises an eyebrow in a questioning manner towards him, knowing he's missing something.

"We're not just dating, Y/N. We love you as much as we love each other, and we want you to be a part of what we have because you're the missing piece of the puzzle," says Charles.

"And we want you to be officially ours," adds Erik.

Their words take you by surprise, making your heart race a thousand miles an hour. You're sure you're blushing, and loose words echo in your head.

The missing piece of the puzzle... ha... that sounds familiar.

At some point during the evening, you moved to Erik's room (the one furthest from the other rooms, with only one flower that you gave him a long time ago), where you shared kisses, hugs, words, and feelings. Where you expressed the great love you share, making grand plans for the future. And where you realized that you never were out of place; rather, you had always been missing, so they could feel complete.

The End.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

@djlnkaled @kindlover @only-nope @larissa1379 👋❤️

[shadesoflsk]

        MOONTALK

pairing: Leon Kennedy x GN Reader.

summary: After retiring, Leon often has nightmares about his past. Talking under the moon's gaze seems to help.

warnings: Smut MDNI, just oral (m receiving), angst to fluff to smut hehe, mentions of death, violence, and alcohol, catholic symbolism, dad bod leon hehe (x2) subby leon, reader is called spouse.

word count: 3.5k

author's note: Hello! This is very simple since I'm trying to get better at writing smut for gender neutral readers :) There's not enough content and while I improve at writing the whole sex scene I shall bring you this! (I'm open to suggestions or constructive criticism.) As always, I hope you're having a good week!

The starry night is chosen to be Leon’s witness in the middle of his stolen slumber. 

It’s a common occurrence, part of himself longs for the pain-filled activity since it serves as a reminder of his own life. Night terrors scare him more than his anxiety. The first one clings to his soul and threatens him with an inability to wake up. Helpless to his own mind, he prefers to be fully awake.

However, his brain isn’t his friend. Even when awake and aware of his surroundings, his mind would recreate scenarios he has lived before. Blood dripping and sticking to his combat boots, the smell of the iron-ish liquid filling his nostrils painfully making its home in Leon’s head, messing up with his perception of the world and himself.

Somewhere in that messed up path, he had found you. 

He didn’t intend to, it wasn’t in his plans to. He had locked his heart and thrown the key somewhere in the sea of his failures. 

A feeling of regret brimmed in Leon’s soul. How could his name be attached to yours if the sole mention of Leon Scott Kennedy brought memories of hell on Earth? A former rookie cop, ready to risk his life on duty turned into the government's best weapon.  He’s made peace with that, ever since his mission in San Francisco his life has gotten significantly better.

But that doesn’t mean it has stopped hurting.

He once heard Jesus presented his left cheek to be slapped. In the past, he’d have imagined the mere thought of being that naive was ridiculous.

“You have heard that it was said, 'Eye for eye, and tooth for tooth.' But I tell you, do not resist an evil person. If anyone slaps you on the right cheek, turn to them the other cheek also.”

Now, that passage has been planted in his heart like a thorn that wouldn't go away no matter how much he pinched the skin. But rather than being a bothersome feeling, it shaped him into the man he is now.

He would never be Jesus, he knows that much. Ever since he was a kid, his connection to religion was always dangling between trust and distrust; faith and doubt. Fear crossed his juvenile and innocent expression whenever he came across a statue of the people’s lord and savior.

God bad, Jesus good. People good and bad. The Old Testament was the backbone for Leon’s hatred towards God. If this supernatural being ‘loved’ his people, why would he punish them?

Sins are ambiguous. Killing is bad. But if he had killed creatures that were no longer humans, is he a sinner without redemption?

He’s still coming around that last statement. Were they really no longer humans?

That’s why he prefers the New Testament. A fresh start, a new life being born. Jesus wouldn’t judge him for the man that he was and is. 

And just like him, he turned his left cheek in a mission in San Francisco years ago, when he ended Maria’s life. Bitter and revengeful for killing her father, the woman made it her mission to murder Leon. But ultimately (and ironically) she ceased to exist in Leon’s arms. 

‘Revenge’ was met with a ‘Now you can be with your dad again.’ Merciful, he had granted her a last moment of peace.

The soundless night heightens Leon’s senses. As he tries to brush off his worries, some footsteps break the unnerving silence that Leon is in. His ears focus on the soft pace that he easily identifies as yours. 

Recognition turned into monotone and monotone into mundane. And don’t get him wrong, God he loves feeling he has finally found his home.

Leon’s arms are resting on the balcony railway, blue eyes focused on the starry night. 

“You should be sleeping.” He flatly says without turning to face you. Not out of apathy but guilt. Not being next to you has woken you up.

“Can’t sleep without my husband.” 

Sensing you approaching, he opts to tease, trying to divert your attention somewhere else. “Wouldn’t be my dear spouse if you weren’t clingy.”

“I’m not clingy.” But you wouldn’t allow Leon’s usual antics. You know them by heart, lighthearted jokes instead of facing reality. “I’m just worried,”

“You worry too much.”

“But I’m always right.”

A sigh. 

Teeth biting the inside of his cheek.

“It’s hard to sleep sometimes.” The phrase is not directed at you, but a response to his own thoughts. For him, safe and sound sleep is a blessing he’s not lucky enough to receive. 

“I know.” And then again, your reply isn’t about yourself. A feeble smile appears on your face out of empathy and partial understanding. Standing next to him, your elbows rest on the balcony railway, the chill air sending goosebumps through your skin. “Did you dream about something?”

Leon’s eyebrows knit in concentration as he mull over her question. When he tries recalling his past moment of slumber he is met with the usual gruesome scenario and the same gut-wrenching screams.

“Same old tale.” He exhales. In the past he would have had a glass of whiskey in his hand, tilting the content to one side as he gazed over the starry sky. But he made a promise, and as much as his past comes back to haunt him, he’d keep it. 

“Is that it?”

“Yes.”

“Why I don't believe you?”

He brings a calloused hand to his mouth as he registers your words. Under the moonlight, his expression gives away his exhausted state, a hint of darkness around his eyes, a permanent faint frown. 

“You don’t want to know.”

“Yet here I am asking.” It’s not until now that you notice Leon’s shirtless torso. Most of his scars are turning a light white color while his bruises are changing their hues. His body is not the same from a few years ago. His abdomen no longer shows off his chiseled abs but a slightly round and soft belly. 

“Feels like I’m walking in circles.” He finally answers with his eyes closed. His restless mind can’t give him a break. Unable to completely live in peace, he finds himself pondering about his own humanity.

“The past is always clearer at night.” With an expression akin to resignation, he looks at you. “And the past tells me I’m a monster.”

The faint sound of the clock could be heard even when they were both gazing into the sky and letting their thoughts be consumed by the chill night. It reaches the dreaded ‘Devil’s hour,’ 3 AM. 

“You aren’t a monster.” And it is the truth. While Leon is a complex man, it is not a difficult task to unravel and search through the layers he has covered himself in. His heart beats for the nation and therefore its citizens. 

“If I’m not a monster then what am I?” He replies, his face growing somber. “If what I’ve done isn’t destruction what is it?”

“Salvation.” 

It is far from salvation. It’s selfish to even think that way.

Sadly, Leon was the designated pawn to complete the job nobody wants to do. 

Sadly, Leon is no more than a victim in the web of despair and destruction.

“Salvation.” He scoffs, a sharp ironic demonstration that your words weren’t the best. “I used to fight while the innocents kept falling at my feet.”

A glimpse of a past self appears in front of you. Chaos and loathing unfurls. 

It’s been years since you last saw the man who used to drown himself in the deadly burning liquid. However, the alcohol no longer filled the empty spaces in his body and soul.

Truthfully speaking, nobody can fix or heal anyone. But you gladly took the role of being Leon’s partner in life. Not only romantically speaking. Silently, you made a home in Leon’s heart and he was too comfortable with you to ask you to leave him. 

“You didn’t do it in the first place.” You place a comforting hand on his shoulder. “The government did.”

“But I was just another bullet in a gun.” He replies softly, his gaze drifting forward. Even after all of these years, he couldn’t completely shake off the guilt that kept haunting him. “Another man with his finger on the trigger… I was just a man with a gun.” 

“And you’re also a man with a heart.” You respond immediately, not giving him a chance to continue his venom-filled words toward himself. 

“If you were the demon you think you are, these late-night thoughts wouldn’t be haunting you as they do. You wouldn’t be mourning every soul even after all these years.” Your words bring a sense of comfort amidst the internal battle that is occurring inside him. The weight of his burden has always been more bearable with you.

“You think I’m that much of a saint?” A faint smile tug at Leon’s lip. A troubled expression on his face tells you he is still not believing your words. Or perhaps, he feels like he shouldn’t believe you.

“I don’t think you’re a saint. Humans are much more than black or white, good or bad. We are gray.”

Your statement is true. Humans are far from being one-dimensional beings. The balance has always been there and he knows it. When he was a child and religion was still an important part of his life, he remembers when Jesus protected Mary Magdalene. 

‘He that is without sin among you, let him first cast a stone at her.’

Leon had stained his hands with blood and gore, but he had also saved countless lives when the odds were against him.

“God… I’m pathetic, aren’t I?” He laughs, finally bringing you closer to him with his arm around your waist.

“No, you’re just human.”  You reply, admiring the view your balcony provides, you think about the endless possibilities in life. If you hadn't met Leon, where would you be? And if Leon hadn't met you? How his life would look right now?

Universe works in mysterious ways, if you hadn't been in the right place at the right time, you wouldn't have your soulmate next to you.

A comfortable silence sets in as Leon finally relaxes and gives his mind a break. There were days and nights in which his brain was weak, but that doesn’t mean he hasn't gotten better.

“I would do laundry and taxes with you in every timeline.” You break the silence with a quote from a movie both of you had watched and Leon being the moviegoer he is, you know he’ll recognize it.

“That's not how the line goes, you silly.” 

Bingo.

“Then enlighten me, Mr. I know every movie by heart.”

“It is ‘in another life, I would have really liked just doing laundry and taxes with you.’” He states matter-of-factly which gains a laugh from you. But in a way, you’re used to his antics and almost nerdy personality only you get to see.

But your words mixed with the ones from the movie hold a glimmer of truth. Even in a timeline in which he wasn’t an agent and just a regular citizen, you’d have fallen for him. Because his past doesn’t make him the man he is now. 

In another life, you’d love him over and over again.

“But I’d do all those things in this life and even in the afterlife.”

His eyes fall on you, the glimmer in them now being obvious. Just a few words from his love would pull him out from his depressive nights.

“You never cease to amaze me.”

“I’m just amazing like that.” You wrap your arms around Leon's neck while his hands rested on your middle section. “Now hug me because I’m fucking freezing.”

“Let’s go inside, shall we?” Laughing, he pulls you closer in a tight embrace. “I’d hate for you to catch a cold. Besides… I need my cuddling partner every night.”

As both of you move out of the balcony and away from the cold wind of the night. Leon’s hands move painfully obvious to your rear. After his late thoughts, he only wants to feel you close to him.

“I don’t think you want to cuddle.” You remark the obvious. Leon just chuckles, nodding.

“Aside from being the perfect partner you’re also a mind reader?”

You step in your bedroom. Place that has been witness to Leon’s most vulnerable moments, from the times in which he'd come back from a mission to the ones in which both of you would get lost in each other's bodies.

His sanctuary, your heaven.

You smile at him as you motion him to sit down on the bed. Both of your eyes are locked in a gaze that says what you are feeling, love. No matter how hard his or your days could be, both of you could always come back to a partner that takes care of them. No matter the situation.

As he takes a seat on the edge of the bed, you lean closer and press a kiss to his forehead, to his nose, to his cheek, and lastly to his lips. This last one lingers more than the others, sweet and slow, like how you want to treat him tonight.

“I love you.” You whisper as you pull back from the kiss, your thumb grazing over his stubbled jaw.

“Love you more.” He responds with the same tenderness you have brought him. After saying his words, his hands traveled to where your hips were, attempting to pull you closer.

“Nuh-uh. Tonight’s about you, sir.” You have your mind set that this night is going to be all about the perfect husband you have in front of you.

With that, your lips once again found their home but this time it was on Leon’s neck. 

With your lips giving some attention to Leon’s sensitive skin, you treat him like he was fragile porcelain. 

After a few moments, you slowly lower yourself until you're between his thighs. Another reminder of how much his body has changed, his thighs were fuller and bit less toned than before.

He has seen you like this before, on your knees and with the sweetest of looks but dear God it gets better every day. 

You press your cheek against Leon’s inner thigh, your hand rubbing the flesh that is still covered with his sweatpants. He was no longer an active agent therefore he had gained some weight which you completely love. He blames the alcohol he used to drink so much and the lack of high-impact exercise.  But you always reassure him that you love him nonetheless. 

Your hand creeps to his clothed crotch, you gently trace along the bulge that has already formed. Leon’s breath is starting to get heavier but nothing too scandalous, for now. 

“I haven’t even touched properly and you’re already this hard.” You are trying to be gentle, but there’s something about having control over him even when you’re on your knees that just prompts you to tease him a hit.

“Might as well cum in the spot, don’t you think? Bet you’re already imagining me pulling down your boxers and stroking your cock.” The face Leon was making could send you straight to heaven. 

“You’re the devil…” Leon tries, he tries to gather himself by making a joke. But his high-pitched speech comes out pathetic. A rebuttal? More like a whine.

“What? My handsome husband can’t handle the spice? I expected better.” The praise seems to hit a spot somewhere in his body because the way his hips just bucked and sought the friction of your hand was contradictory to his previous words.

“Please…” And after that whimper, you no longer want to tease the man. Especially tonight in which he deserves the best. 

“Ok, ok. I gotcha…” You murmur, wasting no more time and pulling his sweatpants down. A wet spot is already formed in his gray boxers. Then again, more teasing words flood your mind but you brush them off.

With a gentle kiss on his inner thigh, your fingers hook around the fabric and slide it down. His dick springs forward, and as always, it makes your mouth water. It’s the same image as always, slightly curved lenght with veins you had memorized by now and a reddish tip that tells you how bothered and pent-up he’s been.

Marriage has always been depicted as a boring and monotonous lifestyle, in which you get bored of your spouse after a couple of years. In a sense, you understand where they come from. However, Leon and you always made sure to keep things interesting, and as corny as it sounds, both of you try to make the other fall in love again.

You press a kiss on his tip, holding back a laugh as you know how sensitive he must be. The slightest touch has him gripping the bedsheets. 

“You’re teasing.” He says as his lips form a pout. His calloused hands flatten on top of your hair 

“Am I?” You give his shaft a few kitten licks, not breaking eye contact while doing so. 

Finally, your shenanigans are followed by your lips wrapping around his tip, sucking the area. That gains a whimper out of Leon, the ones you’re so used to. 

When you first met the stoic agent, you wouldn’t have thought that he’d be so vocal in bed. Even when he was supposed to be on top, he’d let the most beautiful moans against your ears. asking for permission to continue, asking for permission to fill you up.

For a moment, your lips continue sucking off his tip. Your saliva coating the area and sloppily making out with the head of his dick. Your fingers wrap around the base of it, almost overwhelming Leon with the amount of attention he is receiving. 

“Ah — Fuck…” His eyes roll back as you finally take him whole. The previous ministrations long forgotten as your mouth and part of your throat surround his sensitive cock. 

You bob your head, slowly at first, controlling your breath as Leon involuntarily thrusts his hips making his tip hit the back of your throat. You place your hand on Leon’s thigh, to motion him to stand still. 

“Shit — sorry, sorry…” His voice gets slightly higher, now his previous words turn into pleas or straight-up moans. Drool pools at the corner of your mouth as your tongue runs on the underside of his cock. 

“Too good for me…” He’s reduced to just babbles and whines, his knuckles turn white as keeps on gripping the bedsheets, an awful attempt to drown more moans. As you continuously bob your head, Leon could feel his high coming.

Unconsciously and given his dazed out state, he brings his leg to your shoulder. You were completely focused on him and this simple action made your concentration break a bit. He’s putty in your hands, his brain no longer functioning whenever you are in control.

You’d edge him, you’d definitely tease him for that. But now, you just continue sucking him off with the inner side of his thigh brushing against your cheek. 

“I’m gonna  — Fuck…” It’s not a warning, but a comment, a needy announcement. As much as he denies it, there’s not a better image than seeing you covered with his cum, or watching you swallow it whole. It made him feel a sense of pride, knowing that his spouse is the one making him come undone. 

And as your tongue runs along a vein, he couldn’t contain it any longer. With a high pitched whine and throwing his head back, he spills down your throat.

The warm liquid fills your mouth and some of it drips from the corner of your lips. 

You stay still for a moment, collecting every last drop of Leon’s cum. When you feel Leon’s hand on your shoulder —the one that doesn’t have his leg on it— you know he was asking you for a break. 

Pulling out with a pop, you gently move his leg for him to rest. 

For a few seconds, you just massage your jaw as Leon tries to recover. Heavy breaths fill the dark room, allowing you to relax once again.

“You good?” You ask as you are sitting down on the floor. 

“Yeah — Just… give me a second.” He laughs, closing his eyes. A loving smile forms on his face. 

You laugh too, getting up from the floor, you admire the scene Leon provides you: All of his body exposed to you, his sweatpants and boxers pooling at his ankles, and his fucked out expression. 

Heaven.

After a minute or so, Leon composes himself. 

“I’ll make sure to wake up every night if this is the treatment I get.”

“Next time I will just tie you up to the bed.”

“Oh? I like the sound of that.”

Laughing, you slap his naked chest as he pulls you closer. Nights like this are a reminder of his humanity and his right to love and to be loved. The past can never be changed or forgotten, but he can learn from it.

💬shadesoflsk: Comments, reblogs and likes are very much appreciated.

author's note 2: I just had to mention eeaao! It's one of my favorite movies and I know Leon would love it. Sorry if it was too sappy of me but then again... I'm always like that.

[commandershepardvasfuckit]

An Arranged Marriage, part 3

M!troll x f!reader 1.7k words, still currently sfw and building up anything else

Part 1 | Part 2

It’s been a few days with your new husband and while he knows roughly nothing about humans it sure isn’t going to stop him from trying to take care you when you don’t feel well. Even if you wished he’d just leave you alone.

————

Every morning since then you woke up to Zen’jan making breakfast for the two of you, fish or other meat always with any bones removed and fruit already peeled and chopped for you. He was often gone for most of the day, leaving you to explore the city on your own or with Bira in tow. Every night when he returned he cooked dinner for you, or occasionally brought back food from a nearby tavern for the two of you.

He also had made no attempt to touch you since he washed your arms and face that first morning, which was a relief, going so far as to even make sure his hands never brushed yours when handing you things. Essentially, the two of you lead two separate lives, connected only by small talk over breakfast and dinner.

During the week you noticed new little things appearing around: snacks and treats left out for you when he left of the day, a bracelet placed on the bedside table by you, fancy soaps and lotions in the bathroom. Zen’jan never mentioned any of it, but you noticed his face light up for a brief moment when he saw you wearing the bracelet.

You woke that morning in pain, your joints aching and a familiar cramping low in your belly. Forcing yourself to your feet, you staggered to the bathroom to situate yourself and then returned to bed and yanked the blankets over your head.

“What is the matter?” you did not hear him approach, but you tugged the blanket down to see Zen’jan sitting cross legged next to the bed and watching you closely.

“Nothing” you snapped, “Just time for my period”.

Zen’jan did not say anything at first, he just watched you with his head tilted slightly, “I do not know know the translation for that, sorry”.

You often forgot human common was not his first language, or even his second or third. He spoke the troll language, orcish, the minotaur language, and human common. Most humans you knew only spoke the common, maybe an ambassador might speak some dwarven or a bit of elvish, but you had never heard of someone in your kingdom knowing four languages.

“It’s fine. I’m fine”.

“No, something is wrong. Let me help you” he insisted.

“Fine. Get me a hot water bottle and something to help with pain”.

Zen’jan practically leapt up and began digging through the cabinets, grabbing the bag of grains he often used to make breakfast and sitting next to the lit hearth before calling that he would be back as quick as possible while he bolted out the door.

Once again you were alone. Alone, and in pain. You tried to doze off, but any time you finally got comfy another wave of cramps would disturb you, making you toss and turn endlessly.

When he finally returned you heard him clinking about, mixing things from the sounds of it.

“Here” once more he was at your bedside without you ever hearing footsteps. You hated how quietly he moved.

He handed you a cup of bitter smelling, thin, white liquid that tasted even worse than it smelled. You choked it back and he handed you a second cup, this time some sort of tea.

“That will help with any pain, and the tea is just for comfort. My mom used to make it for me when I was little and did not feel well”.

“Thanks” you muttered.

“And here, should be nice and warm now” he handed you the bag of grain that had been sitting by the hearth.

The warmth of it felt good against your sore muscles, you curled around it laying on your side.

“Will you talk to me now? Tell me what is wrong?” Zen’jan asked.

“I’m fine. Thank you”.

He was close to you, much closer than he had been all week. He was sitting cross legged on the floor next to the bed, his arms folded on the edge of the bed and resting his head on them. Like this his face was very close to yours, the tips of his tusks nearly touching you.

“Don’t you have things to do?” you asked him.

“I do, but you are in pain, I am not just leaving you here alone all day. Especially since you will not tell me what is wrong”.

“I told you what’s wrong”.

“Yes, but I do not know what that means though, this is not my first language. I do not always understand everything you say”.

“Period. Monthly bleeding. Cycle. Menstrual! Whatever you want to call it! That’s all!” you barked at him.

He held your gaze, his brows knitted together still trying to follow what you said.

“You really have no idea what I’m talking about, do you?” you asked, exasperated.

“I am sorry, but no”.

“Troll women, they don’t bleed like once a month? No cramps? Nothing?”

“No? Is that normal for humans?”

“Yeah! Either you’re pregnant, or dealing with this once a month!”

“Oh” he said.

“So sorry if I’m in a bad mood, but I’m in pain and currently bleeding out of my vagina, so I think I’m allowed to be grumpy” You were pretty sure he still had very little idea of what you were talking about, but you were hardly in the mood to give a full biology lesson.

“What can I do to make you comfortable?” he asked.

“You’ve already done it, it’s fine. You got me something warm and pain medicine. You’ve done your acts of service, you can go now”.

“I am still staying here with you. You may as well tell me how I can help” he insisted.

You were annoyed. While you were thankful for the medicine and makeshift hot water bottle, what you really wanted was to be back at your family’s manor. Your maids taking care of you, cozy with a hot water bottle that would be swapped as needed, favorite foods and treats brought to you, medicine brought to you, just pampered while you waited it out.

“Fine, help keep me distracted while the medicine kicks in” you snapped at him.

“Can I tell you about where trolls come from then?”

“Sure”

That seemed to perk him up a bit. Once more you had no idea why you felt the need to comfort him or indulge him, but he had been looking at you so sadly and worried.

“Before there was anything else, there was the Nothingness” he began, “The potential of everything that would ever exist was there, but it needed to be made. First there was Owa, the spirit of the worlds. She created the land and seas and all the plants and she was happy for a time, but she grew lonely and cried.

“From her tears grew Oja, her sister. Oja created the animals and for a time the sisters were happy. But they grew lonely again with only having each other. The same way Owa’s tears made Oja, their tears together made the first troll, Reli. Owa and Oja loved Reli, they watched her grow and change in a way that they did not, but living and growing means dying one day.

“When Reli died their grief pulled her spirit back from the Nothingness, and no longer bound to the world she stood as their equal. She could not walk the earth with them anymore, so instead she made herself a new home, a realm within the Nothingness where a once mortal spirit could dwell.

“Owa and Oja created more trolls, who grew and multiplied, but as mortal life grew on the planet it became harder for the gods to step foot here, the planet was no longer for them.

“Now the gods watch over us from the Nothingness, sometimes visiting or appearing when they can. And Reli carries us to her realm when our time here is done. She is the Great Mother of us all, and welcomes us home”.

“So there are three troll gods then?” you asked.

“Owa, Oja, and Reli are the most powerful, but there are many more. Hundreds probably, but many are gods of little things, or gods of certain regions”.

“Huh”

“What about humans? Where did humans come from?” he asked.

“The Light created everything, it’s always existed, it will always exist. It banishes the shadows and protects from the darkness” you answered.

“And are shadows and darkness such a bad thing?”

“Yes! Of course they are! The Light is hope, healing, life, protection! Everything the shadows want to destroy! The darkness wants to destroy and consume all it can! The Light is the only thing keeping it at bay!” you snarled at him.

“I was only curious” he muttered, a bit of a wounded tone seeping into his voice, “I do not know much about human culture or beliefs, and I want to learn more about about my wife”

Wife. The word made your skin crawl a bit when he said it. It had only come up a few times, him referring to you as his wife, and while he was entirely correct it still felt uncomfortable.

“Maybe one day you would like to come with me to visit the shrines? Just to see?” he asked. “And I would like to learn more about your Light, whenever you are feeling up to it”.

You fidgeted uncomfortably at the idea. There was nothing inherently against visiting the shrines of other gods, but it still felt a bit sacrilegious to you.

Zen’jan was watching you expectantly, his head still resting on his arms, again doing a fantastic job of looking rather small for a man of his stature.

“Fine, when I’m feeling better I’ll go with you, but just for a quick look around!”

He smiled, his facial expression softening and relaxing considerably, “Thank you, I do not want to be a mystery to you, or for you to be a mystery to me” and extended out a hand to you, which you ignored.

It probably would not be the worst thing to learn a bit about trolls or your husband.

Part 4

[doe-core]

INFODUMPING ABOUT JOHN DOE<3

Regular guys are fully grown and were never children

His species is a regular guy (hair ball)

He likes burgers

He doesn’t like sweet things, but would eat anything you made him

He prefers bitter stuff

His favorite snack is teeth

His likes include you, teeth, eyes, baby rats, television, and static

His dislikes are under stimulation, being alone, “That Guy”, You ignoring him, and baths

He is afraid of water (reason being that regular guys have to swim through large bodies of water in order to escape the motherball which causes a fear of water in a lot of regular guys)

Doe nearly drowned in the river when escaping the motherball, which is why he’s afraid of water

Regular guys don’t need to take baths. If their fake body needs to be cleaned, they will simply eat it and reform it again!!

His fake body will melt if it touches water, but his actual body (hair ball) won’t die, it will just be very painful and traumatic

He feels through his hair which means that he doesn’t like combing his hair, tieing it up, and cutting his hair is the equivalent to cutting off limb

He has many teeth

He has the power to manipulate reality and get “You” to say and do anything he wants, as shown in ending 4 “Yes”

He is gender-fluid, bisexual and goes by any pronouns. “His gender is just as mysterious as he is!!”

He has no organs or bones, but he can create them if you wish!

He eats materials to make up his fake body. Harder materials lead to a harder form, as softer materials make his body softer. His form also can freeze in extreme cold and melt in extreme heat

He is around 20-40 years old (Regular guys are already grown when made)

Regular guys produce asexually

They are classified as pests due to how fast they spread

Doe’s IQ is slightly higher than the average in uncanny valley, but slightly lower in the human realm

Doe’s scars are not due to him being “sad”, they are a kink/reminder

The reason he can feel is because strands of hair are spread throughout his body

His hairball form is 2 ft tall

Cartoon physics apply to him and he is described to move like a claymation figure

His voice claim is Weird Al and Fox (the creator) stated that “his voice sounds like when someone is talking to you in a dream and you forget how it sounded”

He states that creating 2 eyes is difficult and it can cause him to have blurred vision, but “he will do it if you think it will make him perfect”

Even though he is a sexually active adult, that is not his main goal. He strives for genuine connections and affection

His shirt changes based on how he’s feeling and it can say words or have pictures!

He doesn’t have pain receptors, so he didnt know that stabbing you in ending 2 would hurt you

He slightly pefers taller and bigger partners because it makes him feel protected, but he will love you no matter what!! He will love you no matter what body type you are!!

He leaves you a gift no matter the ending (ex. even when doe loses interest in ending 3, he still leaves you a parting gift)

He is a sadistic masochist

His interest increases when you choose to not take a shower (he prefers your natural scent)

He also likes to scare you because “you’re cute when you’re scared” :3

If you were to kiss him, he would be very happy and his reality will reflect that!!

Everything about you is appealing to him. EVERYTHING. When he is in love, it is HARD to make him fall out of love, but if you are firm enough with him, he will eventually take the hint.

Doe is a hoarder and is hinted to be very messy. If you had baked him something, (ex. cake, cookies, etc.) he would ether eat it, or keep it in his endless pile of shit <3

Speaking of which, he will most likely lose you in his house :p

He’s not rlly good with comforting people with depression, but he will try his best!! He will give you all the reassurance you need by giving you “gifts”,(i use that word very lightly) affection, and watching tv with you!!

He repeats words to emphasize how he’s feeling!! (ex. “I just love love love you!!”)

He loves the feeling of static from when you lick vintage television (whatever the fuck that means 😭)

Though, he doesn’t need to blink and only blinks when he wants to, when he does blink, it sounds like something else. (ex. car crash, glass breaking, screaming, metal clanking together, etc.)

His birthday is November 35th!! (people celebrate it on the 5th of december!)

He behaves like he’s in a cartoon and can be a little slow… (in a loveable way ofc)

He’s allergic to pollen and certain types of flowers </3

He’s also more prone to abdominal pain and nausea;(

Even though he is odd, he is NOT the creepiest creature in the valley

If doe were an animal, he would be a Bullet Dog or a Bark Cat <3

If you were to die, he wouldn’t notice it right away *_*

Doe likes the classic series!!

If you try to comb his hair, his hair WILL absorb it

He watches you sleep :3

He has no ears ^.^

He can drink anything as thick or thicker than oil or blood!

His favorite colors are bright red and burnt orange

He LOVES insects!!

He has no blood and he is naturally hard as clay

Speaking of clay, he doesn’t smell bad or good, he smells like clay or wet rain.

He feeds birds when he’s lonely in the valley 🥲💕

He can’t cry, but he can melt and whine as if he were crying

He is a demonic entity (good luck, buddy!)

Because regular guys reproduce asexually, he can create a mini doe!!

He has no friends or family (besides you ofc <3)

He’s goth but he doesn’t know it >_<

He is 5’8 :3

He weighs 50 kilograms!! (110lbs)

His skin is uncomfortably warm to the touch

If you ever tried to stab him, the knife would get sucked into him and would reappear in his hand.

He does not taste good! His fake body has no nutritional value and in fact REMOVES nutrition from yours!!

It’s hard for him to close his mouth lol

You meet him in House Hunted 2, then see him in HH 1, then finally in the John Doe game!

Idk if I said this, but his nails are naturally black and his teeth are naturally yellow <3

He doesn’t know how to wear his jacket properly

Idk if this is true, but his scars may represent how many times he’s tried to get with you-

If he got piercings, they would melt into his body within 20 minutes 😭

He can express sadness, but not in the way others can

His voice would probably be really deep in the middle of the game

When it’s his birthday, streamers and balloons randomly appear in his house and he celebrates it with his meat effigy of You!

Although he’s not the most dangerous thing in uncanny valley, he’s very hard to kill.

Things he finds cute: Everything “You” does, when “You” is scared, baby rats before they grow hair, heartbeats, and eye contact <3

His favorite candy would be hard candy (or glass 😭)

His hair is slick and uncomfortably warm

Saying “I love you” is his way of flirting

He’s not mentally ill, it’s just the way he acts

He will talk to you about his favorite shows

If he gets to eat you, he sees it as a bonus <3

If you were upset, he would stare at you, call you cute, and wrap his hair around you

He would never hurt you out of strong negative emotions 🥩🖤

He has many rows of teeth that are just collected teeth to try to mimic a human smile

He would never hurt an animal, but they’re scared of him :(

He pefers eating things raw <3

His tongue looks like a lil heart in his mouth, but it’s very long

Whenever he uses human like materials for his body, he looks a lot older and crusty, so he consumes things like metal to create a cleaner body

He stops smiling when someone makes him mad or upset

He has many outfits, but his main outfit is his favorite

He’s a stalker, but not an insane stalker

He weights about 2.5 pounds in his hairball form

He doesn’t have a belly button

He hates Maison Talo because he gets too close to the MC

regular guys are actually pretty clean and they don’t need to bathe! if his human body does get too dirty, he will eat it and craft it over again, but if his hairball body gets dirty, he can take a dust bath! regular guys usually tend to each others hygienic needs too!

The creator stated that they see doe as "trans in representation," but they want their fanbase to have fun and make him whatever they want him to be!

If doe were on a boat, would he get sea sick? The answer is no, but he would be extremely terrified.

He has no preference for the gender of his partner, so he could be considered Pan or canonically, Bisexual.

John doe can drive! Here’s his license:

[sanest-bsd-delegate]

──SOULMATE [Part-1]

⪩oneshot: Soulmates are meant to be with each other, even if death do them apart.

⪩pairing: Dazai x reader

⪩a/n: soulmate au where the soulmate will feel other's pain in form of flowers blooming in the hurt area

Nothing seemed to make Dazai happy. Sure the fake mask of his personality he wore everyday could deceive others, he could fool everyone but himself, and maybe his soulmate too. Dazai viewed it like a curse. Soulmates shouldn't exist in the first place. He couldn't help but empathize and feel sad for his soulmate, for every suicidal tactic he survived, his soulmate will be somewhere, getting hurt or injured by the flowers and thorns that grew. And yet, with no sign of revenge, his soulmate never sent him a flower when he sent a bouquet of them. Human mind is weird. Should he be happy about it? He didn't knew.

You were tired. You were so tired of this life, this soulmate link that existed between you and your soulmate. Whatever his job was, how could he be so reckless. At first, you thought maybe he is still in his teen spirit dirtbag era, but it wasn't the case. For every flower that bloomed on your skin left the scars of the openings. It pained a lot at first, but you got used to it. You wanted to end this connection. It was tiring for you. As you would sob about how tough your life get, another flower would bloom open in your arms, like a lover sending his love a bouquet of flowers. You would smile a little, maybe you weren't alone in the sufferings of this world, maybe your soulmate is too, and maybe, just maybe you both could fill the emptiness in your heart with each other.

You were walking on the street returning from your job when suddenly a sharp throbbing pain arises in your forehead. Did you forget to take your medicine? Is it because of you using your phone? Are you getting heartburn? What ever the reason was, it pained so much, it felt like someone wants to burst your head open with all the forces they got. You drop on your knees, holding the pain, it hurts so much, and you didn't even know what was the cause of that. People surrounded you, calling for an ambulance, and shifting you to a hospital. The last thing you remembered were the shocking faces of people and the concerned medical team trying to talk to you. And then, you lost consciousness.

Dazai was devastated, how could chuuya shoot his head thrice? "CHUUYAAA HOW COULD YOUUUU" Dazai whined, forgetting that his soulmate existed somewhere. Maybe he was selfish, maybe people would call him a person who lacked feelings, but did it matter when the world's fate was in his hands? Chuuya did nothing but shake his head in disapproval, as both of them were on their way to walk out of the prision. Dazai whistled led all his way walking, annoying chuuya every second he got. "Can you stop being annoying?" "Come on shorthat, we have been doing this since the long time" Dazai replied, his arm around Chuuya's shoulder as they walk, "Cant believe i still have to bend my knees to get to your height".

A brief moment of silence passed when Dazai wined in pain….No it wasn't the usual physical pain he felt for the first time, it was something intense and deep, an emotion he had never felt before….it felt like his soul would ripe apart if he breathe any longer and then he felt numb.

"Are you going to just stand still? we have the world to save you know?" Chuuya remarked, rolling his eyes as he opens the door stepping outside for others to see that infact they were alive. Dazai does nothing but remained silent at his remark, before walking out the door. Suddenly he felt something on his forehead, it was a withered leaf, sticking on his forehead. Maybe it came with the wind, yeah maybe.

His soulmate had died and it was way to long gone before he could have realized.

TAGLIST: @averagehisoilluenjoyer @high-on-dazai @ruru-kiss @kissesmellow21 @just2normalperson

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[theladyofmanyfandomsafterhours]

More Than We Thought.

Shanks x Reader

Explicit | NSFW | 18+ only

Warnings: Heavy (but ‘delicate’?) smut under the cut - trust me. There’s no build up, we just dive right in.

A/n: It’s purely self-indulgent. I’m hiding under my covers so you can’t see me - is it working?

Inspired by Dirtier Thoughts by Nation Haven.

I’ve written clean fanfic over 6 years so I’m terrified to post something so explicit. But we’re allowed to branch out right?

For less steamy fics, try the main blog.

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

Shanks pressed his hand just under your belly button, his fingers lightly tracing the outline of where his hard length had entered the most intimate part of your body. He could feel himself squeezed inside. He moved forward slightly and saw the bulge underneath his palm follow the movement.

He glanced up at you and saw your head laying on the mattress, chin tilted up and lips between your teeth. He pushed in deeper and the bump grew slowly. You hummed at the sensation. Heels adjusting on the edge of the bed as you spread your legs as much as you could to let him in.

Taking the positive signs, Shanks kept going further - keeping an eye on the way your hand gripped the sheets. But his main focus was seeing how high the bulge under your skin could go before there was no more space. He wanted it to reach your belly button but even the human body had its restraints.

Bit by bit, he pushed until you let out a soft gasp when he had hit capacity. Shanks looked down at where you were connected, a small frown settled on his face - there was still a bit more of him left.

“Shanks.” You whispered. “What’s wrong?”

The Red-Haired pirate smiled. “I’ve filled you but I...” he leaned forward to kiss your neck. “I’m bigger than we both thought.”

There was a pause before you gave a breathy response. “Push it in.”

Shanks peppered another slow kiss beside the first letting his tongue linger just a little. “Are you sure?”

Looking down, you finally met his eyes since it all started. “Push it in and then repeat it.”

Shanks laughed softly and caught your mouth with his. Nipping the bottom lip when he pulled back. “You’re not going to be able to walk tomorrow if I start.”

Lifting your head up slightly, you copied his kiss and tugged at his lip lightly. “I dare you to have me not walk for a whole week.”

The grin on Shanks’ face distracted you for a split second until there was a sudden harsh pressure in your core as he forced the rest of himself inside you. The fit was undeniably tight and Shanks knew it. He hit the one sensitive spot that made you react in a way that made his heart race. Head thrown back, eyes closed, your mouth opened but was unable to voice a desperate scream. Only managing a short and sharp, “A-Ah!”

“Are you okay?” Shanks asked just to be sure.

You took a few seconds to catch your breath and adjust to his size. “Fine - a little warning would have been nice.” You told him honestly. When his smile dropped a little, you grabbed his chin and smiled. “But where’s the fun in that, right? Do your worst.”

“Looks like you’re not going to be able to talk for a week either.” Shanks returned with a smirk.

He pulled out carefully and when his hips moved a second time, he slammed himself into you - this time getting one hell of a scream from your lips. Then he did it again - pulled out to the tip before ramming back inside - and then again, determined to make your legs tremble until they wouldn’t hold you upright for the next week…or more.

Each thrust sent your voice screaming spirals into the air sometimes as a cry of pleasure other times just his name - and it only spurred him on. When Shanks started to speed up, your hands found his body. Nails clawing into his skin with a dull pain but it was nothing compared to what he was pounding into you.

If it became too much, you would shout the designated safe word but until he heard any part of that phrase, you were at his mercy. His hard length diving in and out of your body -

…until you couldn’t speak.

…until your legs quaked.

…until you had no more of your juices to release.

…until your insides were drowned in his hot spend.

And until your body was newly shaped to fit all that he was squeezing.

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

A/n: Still in shock I wrote that. Sweet dreams x

[fictionalslvr]

Part one. Part three.

SYNOPSIS:"Ghost" is your new neighbor in your apartment complex, everyone is afraid of him, but not you. You're the only one to be kind with him.

PAIRING: (Based of comic but that's not 100% canon) Simon Riley neighbor x F¡Reader

WORD COUNT:3.212k

WARNINGS: Fluffy, angst, mentions of blood, war, s.a (not directly) etc.

NOTES:There we go, back to the crying season. I literally cried while writing this one, so i really hope you guys like as much as i did. Remembering, this is the part two of this mini serie. And i HIGHLY recommend to listen to 'happier than ever' by Billie Eilish while reading this.

PREVIOUS PART

It’s been almost a month. Almost a month since Simon appeared at your door, he drinked some coffee with you, had a long talk that showed little things about him. And after he left your door to work, it’s been days since you don’t hear footsteps on the apartment above yours. You can’t help but worry, he said his work was hard, tiring and had big choices. You pace around your house, feeling a weird knot on your stomach, a strange sensation of anxiety consuming you, not seeing his eyes, hot hearing his chuckles, not smelling his unique scent…all of this makes you feel strange, he’s just a neighbor…right? So why are you feeling this way? He’s used to doing this, staying out, working and coming back, he’s fine that’s right. Then why couldn't your heart understand this?

The only thing keeping you calm is your little cat, her fluffy fur on your legs as she brushes herself against you, looking for some caress. You sit down on the couch and sigh, trying to think better and your cat jumps on your lap, purring while your fingers brush her fur gently. It’s almost like she can sense you’re not well at the moment, and tries her best to distract you.

—”You’re a smart kitten, no?” A sad smile flows out, and you can only breathe deep for a moment. You don't know why you’re feeling like this, he’s only your neighbor who’s a bit mysterious, you shouldn’t be worried about him. And yet, your last talk with him made you think all those days about him. He seems like someone who suffered a lot, even if he didn’t tell you what exactly. You can see it, his baggy eyes carrying a sad sparkle on it, like he saw so many things you can’t even imagine. Somehow, you appreciate his bravery, without even telling, you supposed that he suffered, only from his eyes.

He’s always using a balaclava, so there must be a reason for this. Maybe he’s insecure about his face, maybe he just wants to protect his identity for someone, or he just doesn't want people to read his emotions. If the last one is the answer, he’s terribly wrong, because only from his eyes, you could sense how this man carries a lot of weight on his shoulders.

Since when he moved in, you’re caught about his whole figure, everything about him was a mystery, like he can’t really trust anyone. You look around for a while, looking at the pictures on your home, you remember how Simon was staring at them non stop the last time you saw him, his eyes were painful to see, his eyes narrow to the frames as his eyebrows furrowed as your voice called his attention back. Something about family pictures made him perplexed.

It’s weird to say, but damn, you missed him. His raspy voice, his tall figure towering over yours, his short words, his eyes never leaving your face as you talk, he’s a great listener, you could say. Even without knowing much about him, you wanted to see him again, hear his voice, feel his scent, make eye contact, feel this weird human connection you two created quickly. You groan and roll your head back to the couch, staring at the ceiling while your mind don’t stop not even for a second, your mind filled with Simon and everything you noticed about him, like how calloused his hands are, how he seems to be a terrible sleeper, how he looks to hold himself back while he talks, scared he will expose more about his life, how he has a habit of shakes his legs every time, how his eyes don’t stop still, they’re always looking around, as if he’s making sure he’s safe. Every little detail that you could think of, you paid attention to him, like you never did before, you never was this detailed about someone, neither that interested about someone. He has something special, something that curls you up in his hands.

As for Simon? Being on a long mission wasn't that easy. Staying hours awake, the reason why he’s a terrible sleeper, sleeping in uncomfortable tents, thinking only about his objectives all day. It was awful, but, the only thing that reminded him he’s still human, is his friends, his teammates, the only ones he can say some dad jokes sometimes, the only ones who remind him he’s only doing his job, and nothing else, and somehow, that made him feel better. Knowing he’s not alone in this, that he’s not the only one making his hands dirty with blood, the only ones who made him feel less guilty for the blood dripping on his mask. Besides that, sometimes he caught himself thinking of his neighbor, the only one who had the courage to talk to him, that looked him in the eyes, that listened to his short talk, his voice and saw his miserable life. And yet, you don’t even know the whole story, if he did tell you…would you still smile at him? Would you still look him in the eyes? Would you still not be afraid of him? Would you still think he deserves to be loved? Because, he, himself, doesn't think he does. After all he did, all he passed through and lost, he didn't have a chance to be happy and live an ordinary life, he always had to remind how useless he was at protecting his family once, how he was a cowardly kid, how he suffered in dirty hands, how he felt used. Nothing more than a war machine, a big, strong and scary man that everyone frightens, that’s what he is, in his mind. As for you, such a gentle, kind and delicate woman…why would you listen to someone like him? He thinks he doesn’t deserve your kindness.

For now, there he is, stepping back to his apartment, his heavy boots making some noise as he's not even looking at the way he’s doing. It’s always like this when he’s back from a long mission, he felt like he was on automatic. His mask, a bit dirty like his gear, and he had some wounds too. He made his way on the halls, going to the elevator, it’s late, like 4AM.

And a soft voice calls for him before the elevator comes, the creaky wooden door behind him making noise.

—”Simon…?” —It’s your voice, he’s already used to that sweet melody. He doesn’t turn to face you, not wanting to scare you with his actual state.

—”Hello.” —Without noticing, you left a sigh of relief.

—”You’re back. I was worried.” —Your words make him disbelief, he turns to face you, and you can see a mask on his usual balaclava, his eyes widened as his pupils shake.

—”You shouldn’t.”

—”If I could control that. But I couldn't, and I'm happy you’re back." —His eyes fall to your figure, rubbing your eyes as you’re still sleepy, your pajamas from that day, and your voice sounds like honey.

—”What happened to you, Simon?”

—”I was working.”

—’Not this, these wounds…” — Realization crawls up to his mind, you shouldn’t be able to see him like this.

—”Shit.” — He mumbles under his breath and looks away. Your figure walks closer to him, it’s dark to see properly.

—”Please, come in. Let me take care of this for you.”

—”No need, I'm fine, thanks.” —How could he say no to your cute little eyes, looking up and down on his body, looking for every wound. Your fingers go to his arms, gently touching and pulling him inside your apartment. Without a word, he just follows, he could easily get rid of your hands on him, and he didn’t.

You close the door and make him sit on your couch, picking up a med kit in your kitchen, sitting beside him.

—”You’re not going to ask why I'm like this?”

—”Only if you want to say why.” — Your eyes meet him, looking for his approval before you lift up the sleeves of his gear, finding a very bad wound on it, how he wasn’t feeling the pain? He just nods, and you lift his sleeves gently. He loved how caring you are, always searching his approval for everything, even simple things like this. He loves how gentle you were towards a man like him.

—”Then…can we not?”

—”Of course, Simon.”

He always enjoyed how his name would sound in your tongue, in your voice. It made his heart skip a beat everytime. With caution, you clean up his wound, and he doesn't hisses, doesn't frown or groan, he just watches in silence, looking into your eyes all the time. Nothing matters now, not the pain, not the blood, no. Only you, and your kindness.

—”What were you doing awake?”

—”I wasn’t. I heard your footsteps.”

—”How did you know it was mine?”

—”I guessed. You’re the only one who would walk around at this time.” —His dark brown eyes were staring at your face, you looked so concentrated now, even while sleepy like this, you managed to do this. To take care of him.

—”Why are you doing this?”

—”Because I care about you, Simon.”

Those words, it’s been years since he heard it, seem unreal. Why would you care about him? What did he do to deserve such kindness? Is God finally hearing his prays he did when he was young? No, you’re only his neighbor, this is normal…right?

—”Why?”

—"Do i need a reason?" —He only looks away, his head nodding at your words. You were right, you don’t need reasons to do what you’re doing. Though, he really wanted you to have one. He needed you to have a reason to help a man like him.

A comfortable silence creeps in between both, it’s a silence that yells inside, so many questions on both sides, but no one wants to ask it. Simon looks on your window, the curtain flowing and showing the moon bright in the sky, giving him a feeling he never felt before…love, in its truest form, just pure love. Being taken care of like this, he doesn’t even know why he accepted this, normally he would ignore it and go to bed, sleeping only two hours or less. But you, have your gentle fingers wrapping his wound now, gently patching it with a gauze, you had some talent for this, he wondered…have you ever taken care of someone else? Because you seem to be used to this.

—”Well done.” —You mumbles under your breath, your eyelids blink slowly, you’re so sleepy…it’s adorable.

—”Thanks.” —Oh really? Is everything he can mumble after this help? He can’t express anything more than this. Honestly, he didn’t need to, his eyes locked with yours, your body painted with the moonlight and the dark blue sky, and you can see how he feels grateful for you. You smile gently.

—”No need to, I was just worried when I saw you like this.”

Simon sighs, taking off the skull mask on his covered face, leaving only his balaclava as you’re used to.

—”It’s normal for me to get back like this.”

—”With wounds?”

—”Not only on my body.”

—”You know you can’t live like this forever, right?”

—”I always did.”

—”And this will hurt you eventually, Simon. You can’t hide emotions and think everything is okay. They will overflow.”

—”You don’t know me well for this.” —Simon gets up from your couch, his voice getting rougher, and looks at your door. You felt a twist in your guts, he’s worried you might figure him out, because you’re already doing.

—”If you’re being kind only to know my past, forget it. I’m not a storyteller.”

—”Who told you I wanted this? I’m pretty sure it was yourself.” —Now it’s your time to get up and meet his eyes, his eyes can’t lie to you.

—”You’re tricking yourself with this, Simon.”

He hated this, how pretty you look while your skin sparkled with the moonlight, how your eyes made him nowhere to run, how you would read him like a book, even if you two don’t know for a long time.

—”You don’t know me enough to say that.”

—”Being cold won’t keep me away, if that's what you’re trying to do.”

The only thing Simon does is curse under the black silk on his face. He didn’t like to look so predictable, so vulnerable like this. But at the same time, he just wants to be taken care of by you, and only you, no one else. He stays silent for what seems like an eternity, there's nothing else to say. What would he do now? Being cold wasn't going to keep you away, and he knows he will only hurt you, and lose someone like you would be dumb. All of his thoughts were making him dizzy, it was too much, he didn’t feel like this in years, and now it just makes him confused, he doesn't know how to deal with this anymore.

—”Look, Simon, it’s okay. You don’t have to agree with what I say. I just want you to know that even if I don't know you too well, you’re already someone I care about.” —You whispered to him, this tone was enough to bring him back to reality. His heart skips a beat at your words, he didn’t deserve you. At least he doesn’t think so.

—”Do you even realize what you’re saying? I’m a stranger at your house. Aren’t you scared?”

—”Not of you.” —A cute smile spreads on your face, and poor Simon, he feels his legs weaker, his heart melt at the same second.

—”You’re crazy. I can’t understand you.”

He’s being genuine on this, he can’t understand how optimistic you are, how cute, pretty, kind you are. And damn, that hairs of yours, the smell makes him insane, he always tries his best to stay away.

—”And I can't understand you as well, we’re even now.” —Simon can’t help but chuckle in disbelief with your words. Oh God, why couldn’t he have a normal life…by your side if that’s possible?

—”Look, [name], I appreciate the help. I should go now, I already messed up your sleep too much.”

—”Wait…can’t you stay just until i sleep? I can’t go back to sleep alone now.”

—”Uhm…sure.” —He looks away, and you giggle. Quickly, you make your way to the couch again and make yourself comfortable there, laying your body and closing your eyes. He watched every movement, not really wanting to look like a perv or something, he wouldn’t ever want to make you embarrassed.

—”Goodnight, Simon.”

—”Night.” —Simon clears his throat, looking while you find a good position to sleep, you look so peaceful. Maybe having him around makes you feel this way. His eyes are glued to your face, so delicate and calm while you breath slowly, it was an adorable sight, he thought to himself. His thick accent was the last thing you heard before falling asleep, quicker than he thought you would. Simon looks around and sees a blanket on another couch, he takes it and gently puts it above your body, making you nuzzle into it as the cold breeze was a problem your sleeping figure didn’t know it needed help. “How stupid” he thinks to himself, he’s a war criminal, why the hell does he have a soft stop for a person he doesn’t even know the age? His strong arms could rip you apart, since you’re so fragile like this. Correcting himself, he could, but he couldn’t even think of doing it, you’re so delicate, he just wants to protect you, not the contrary. He sighs, and notices he’s been looking at your sleeping figure for a long while now. He walks to your door and holds the handle, but something curls on his legs before he can walk outside, it’s your kitten. That lazy female cat who decided to greet the man on his second visit here, her white and orange fur on his gear.

—”Bloody hell.” — Simon caught himself watching his tone for you, not wanting to wake you up. The little kitten meows while twirling around Simon’s legs, he sighs and rolls his eyes up, one hand holds his mask, the other rubs the cat’s chin with his gloves on, so rough, and yet, bent down to caress your cat.

—”Now…let me leave, lil’one.” — His strong accent keeps there, while he…whispers with your cat. He gets up and opens your wood creaky door with caution, giving a head nod to your cat and closing the door when he steps away.

It’s so hard to leave, to leave that warm, cozy, happy place. To meet his dark and cold home, he can only sigh with the thought. Why is it so hard to leave? Why is his heart throbbing? That’s stupid, he’s not a teenager anymore, he’s a grown ass man that can deal with his feelings, he thinks so. He’s only trying to fool himself into that idea, because he knows when he steps his foot inside his apartment, he will crave for the sound of your voice, your warmth and your damn smile, and mostly, your words. So well chosen like you know exactly what to say to make him fall. You’re clever enough for his rudeness. He knows you will be just below, living your life peacefully and he will get back to his miserable life, alone, with his bad thoughts. If only he was open to his own feelings, he would see how fucked up he is now. Already missing you and wanting to stay by your side. His delusional mind wanders to a life together, you would say him goodbye when he’s out for missions, calls him, send letters, and he would keep a photo of you on his pocket, only so when he’s not motivated, he looked at it and remembers why he’s there, to make you safe. He would come back to your arms and stay beside each other, you would see his face behind that balaclava and smile, knowing the real Simon, while he leaves Ghost on the job.

That’s when he comes back to earth, being on his balcony, his balaclava lifted up a little bit as he smokes, taking a puff of his cigarette and sending it back into the sky with a blow. The breeze makes him shiver even with his gear still on, and the thoughts consume himself.

—"I'm fucked up."— Simon realizes when his thoughts wanders too much. He tosses the cigarette on the floor, stepping on it as his raspy voice talks to himself. Going to bed at 6AM, and not even being able to sleep, because his heart decided to throb about someone he doesn’t even know well, his brain decides to play with his sanity once more. He can’t take this feeling growing inside of him, it’s weird. Simon stares at the ceiling, laying at bed, his hands caressing his chest as he feels pain inside, right on his heart. Not even his patched wound would hurt like this.

What is this feeling...is he...falling in love? You leave him in tatters. And even while he's thinking you're perfect, you still have your problems as well, he's not the only one broken, and he will discover this soon.

[bookshelfdreams]

There were two great posts about Izzy yesterday, and I would like to expand on and add my 2 ct to the things said in them a little. One, by @celluloidbroomcloset (with additions by several others), about how Izzy immediately falls back into old patterns of manipulative behaviour after his supposed redemption in 02x07, only this time with Stede as the focus of said behaviours instead of Ed. The other, by @batsarebetterthanpeople, about how Izzy's behaviour in 02x06 and onward is more akin to the development a homophobe coming around to a queer loved one, than an arc of queer self-discovery.

Izzy's story isn't about himself. I think this is the first, fundamental mistake people make when engaging with it. He's not a protagonist; he doesn't exist in the story for his own sake. So when ofmd asks "How to reform a toxic person? What does it look like and is it even possible?", the starting point isn't one of empathy with Izzy.

It's one of empathy with Ed. ofmd is asking these questions not because it wants to understand Izzy better. What it wants to explore is the possibility of Ed having the relationship with Izzy Ed wants. Whether Izzy can be brought around to understanding Ed's wants and needs, whether he can understand the hurt he caused him.

This is a fundamentally different approach to how these stories are usually told. Usually, we start out with the unspoken assumption that the toxic person is well-intentioned, good at heart, and whatever pain they caused our protagonist is more akin to a misunderstanding than deliberate harm. Yes, they may have have caused hurt, but if you just see things from their perspective, you'll understand that they only had your best interest in mind, and that will enable you to forgive them.

Obviously this can't not veer off into victim blaming. "The abuser had a good reason for what they did, and therefore, it's your own fault. Or at the very least not theirs."

ofmd fundamentally rejects this. It is very careful to never let the bullies and abusers have a valid point. Abusers are abusive because they get something out of it. To truly reform an abuser, they would have to be willing to build a life for themselves that is a lot less comfortable. Where they have to consider other's feelings, communicate and compromise, meet other people on equal footing, instead of putting themselves in a position of authority. It means letting go of patterns of behaviour that they have so far been quite successful with*.

And Izzy - tries. He is interesting because part of him clearly wants to leave the toxicity behind. He gets to see what positive relationships, human connection, being part of a community look like; he's offered an outstretched hand, and, after biting it a few times, tentatively starts to take it.

But he can't quite get there. The temptation to fall back into what he knows is too strong. celluloidbroomcloset's post linked above talks mainly about 02x07, so I'm not gonna repeat all that, but I'm going to add two little scenes from 02x06 that further cement this. In the beginning of the episode, Izzy finds Ed as he's standing on deck, watching the sea, and the conversation that plays out is a clear mirror to, almost repeat of the Frankfurter clouds scene from 01x04. Ed tries to share an observation with Izzy in an attempt to reach out to him ("Something's wrong. Feels like a storm's coming but I can't see it."), which Izzy, of course, immediately dismisses ("Or maybe you're just a mopey twat and there is no fucking storm").

The second scene is, when Izzy is the only one discouraging Ed from following Stede to his cabin after he kills Ned Lowe. Discouraging support, discouraging connection and emotional honesty; Izzy will continue to try to isolate Stede.

Now, I do not think this, or the things happening in 02x07, are put in there deliberately to show that Izzy has ulterior motives. Rather, they are an illustration of how deep these maladaptive patterns of behaviour go. Izzy isn't able to fully admit to himself the extend of the harm he caused and this is what prevents him from truly changing his behaviour - even when he has just experienced the benefits of a loving, supportive community!

All of this is the explanation to the answer the show gives to our starting question: Is it possible for Ed to have the relationship with Izzy that Ed wants? And the answer is: No. Just because growth is possible, doesn't mean it is enough. Doesn't mean anyone's entitled to forgiveness. Sometimes, the only compassionate thing to do, is to take yourself permanently out of the other person's life.

But Izzy did learn, and he did grow. It's just that the purpose of said growth wasn't to heal him; it was to enable him to understand the hurt he caused to Ed. That doesn't have to mean people like Izzy can never be reformed, it just means that this isn't a story about the reformation of a toxic person. It's the story of leaving this toxicity behind.

And this is why Izzy's heartfelt apology followed by his immediate death is a positive ending. It represents the conviction that no relationship is so broken it can't be mended, but also the assurance that no relationship is so important it can't be ended.

Ed gets to hear the things he needs to hear most - I am sorry, I was wrong, you didn't deserve this - and then Izzy disappears from his life, and with him, all the toxicity he represents.

They can part on good terms, but part they must. So Ed can go into the rest of his life, unburdened.

*read Lundy Bancroft's "Why does he do that", seriously. The whole thing is on archive.org.

[remembrancer-of-heresy]

The thirst to subjugate (Part 2)

Summary: You find yourself under the wing of Corvus but soon realize that his love is killing you.

Corvus Corax/fem!Reader, Alpharius and Omegon/fem!Reader

Warnings: yandere, obsession, power imbalance, masturbation, forced captivity

Word count: 1463

Song: Hatari, CYBER - Hlauptu

@kit-williams, It was only at the end of the fic that I realized that I was very impressed by your yandere Corvus. I didn’t think it would be so enjoyable to describe him almost as Perturabo. In the next chapter there will be twins.

You always knew how to notice small details. When the pipes began to leak, small details were hidden in the shadows from prying eyes. As one of the serfs began a secret affair, the officers hid information from their subordinates. Or how one of the Space Marines often looked at the young soldiers, apparently not understanding his actions.

But you didn't think you could tell your primarch's mood. It was surprising even for you. But what was even more unusual was that he detained you. And then on other days, talking to you on abstract topics. It was as if he was trying to make friends. The thought alone was ridiculous, but you couldn’t resist it. It was so nice and cozy with Corvus.

Safely.

Although at some moments when he looked at you for a long time. Stroked your hair or hugged you. It was a bit strange. It was as if his care and desire to get closer to you were overflowing. He consumed you, craved your connection so badly.

But you couldn't refuse. He is your primarch. And he's your friend. You saw him as a brother. Desperately denying your suspicions about his feelings. But when “Alpharius” paid attention to you and you told Corvus about everything... it was no longer possible to ignore it.

You could no longer be in the serf section. Walk freely along the corridors. Even carry out your usual duties. Corvus said it was dangerous and he must take care of you. The Alpha Legion is alarming and they will probably want you. You never asked why his brothers brother needed you.

“But Corvus, what about my family? My parents, younger siblings, my friends. I can’t leave them.”

You pronounce every word firmly, putting a clear meaning into them. You are glad to be friends with Corvus. But he shouldn’t take you away from your family, or appropriate you as a thing. He's a primarch, he can do it. But if he values ​​your friendship, if he values ​​your connection, then the lord of the Raven Guard will retreat. But Corax’s face takes on a martyr’s expression and you want to howl from the melancholy that suddenly washes over you.

“But aren’t I your family too?”

His voice slides through your insides, opening your veins. Suffering and pain fill your soul with warmth. You want to get rid of these emotions. They are not yours. You whimper, allowing the primarch to embrace you, wrapping your arms around his massive shoulders.

“Of course you are my family, Corvus.”

You can't say no. You can't resist. You allow yourself to be surrounded by care and love. Hide in the dark, away from the light, where the monsters lurk. Corvus promises to be your savior, and you want to believe.

Your new chambers are so different from your previous life. It's spacious here. You never thought you could live in a room like this. But it's so empty here. There is no usual laughter and conversations. Human warmth. These chambers are yours and only yours.

It was warm at home. The darkness was dispelled by the light of bright lamps. You constantly heard the sounds of the ship working. A pleasant feeling of something alive, even though it was made of metal. But in the new chambers, even the smallest sound becomes loud. There were few lamps here and they were switched off according to a schedule. The portholes were not intended as security. It was almost always dark here. And it's cold.

You didn't have anyone. You haven't seen the serfs, the servitors. There were no Space Marines here. You only had Corvus. He made sure to get you food and clean clothes without using other people. Without drawing attention to you. The most important thing is that you had him and you could spend time as before. You even had too much time now as he once said.

It was suffocating. It was scary. This tormented you and you didn’t notice how you began to feel depressed. But even in those moments when you really wanted to be alone. Corax was nearby. He stroked the top of your head, wiped away your tears and cooed. Cooed over you like a crow over a baby bird. Saying that you will be safe here.

And you so wanted to fly away to freedom.

***

You were drowning in your bed. It was too big for you. All black and disgustingly soft. And too many blankets and pillows. It's like a nest. But you almost liked it. They enveloped your little body so much. As a child, in the most terrible moments, you always hid under the covers. And it seems as if your bedroom should become a real fortress against nightmares. Not a single monster will be able to see you under this heap of fabric.

But he sees you.

Watching.

Waiting.

You snuggle up to the pillow at the head of the bed, pulling the blanket up to your chin. You need to close your eyes. Need to hide. Run away. But you can't help but look. The chambers are pitch black and yet you can see it sitting at the far end. Hunched like an old man, it was huge and feathered. Black eyes that your brain shouldn't see shine brightly in the room.

But worst of all were the sounds. Heavy breathing, which the monster tried to hold back behind clenched teeth. But it still echoes in your brain. As well as obscene sounds of self-pleasure through clothes. It doesn't touch you, but you still feel so helpless.

When did it start? You couldn't even count accurately. It’s just that at some point you realized that while you were sleeping you weren’t alone. You were being watched. It studied your peaceful face, listened to your breathing. It touched you with their eyes.

And once, when you were lying half asleep, you clearly felt a hand running along the curves of your body. How someone else's nose buries itself in your curls. How it licked your open shoulders and neck. It almost kissed your lips but then stopped as if it was too soon. And this terrible heavy breathing.

You wanted to wash away this terrible feeling and convince yourself that it was just a bad feeling, fear of the unknown, stress. Anything! Just let it not be real. You should be safe, not afraid of anything. 

Corvus promised you! He did it. He took your life and you believed him. But why are you scared? Why do you tremble like this? It's not fair! He promised to save you...

From others, not from himself.

A long groan is heard in the chambers and the lord of the crows finally unleashes its lust. If before it came when you were sleeping, now it watches you while you are awake. But everything is also in the shadows.

You whine in horror and perversion. It freezes and rises sharply. The haze in its eyes dissipates and it tries to curb his inhuman nature. You hiccup from such changes. Doesn't he understand that you see him? That it is hidden from the eyes of other people, but not from you. You know what it did, you know what its thoughts were. Thoughts that he cannot turn into reality. For now.

The Raven Lord rushes towards you and you whine and cover yourself with a blanket. You hunch under the fabric, pressing one of the many pillows. Animal fear has curbed you and you are trying to bury yourself. Further away. Deeper. Where he won't get you.

And still you feel his clawed paws on your body.

“Hush, hush,” the primarch cooed softly, as if he was not the reason for your behavior. - “Everything is fine, you are here with me. No one will touch you or offend you.” - you think you hear the rustling of feathers.

"C-corvus, please" - you desperately and quietly sob. -"Stop it. I beg you. Y-you said we are family but I'm scared."

You sniffle and burst into tears that have been accumulating for all the time he... loved you from a distance. It was unbearable. But Corvus didn't think so. You felt him smile tenderly, touched by your hysteria.

 “My dear, don’t cry, don’t be afraid. You're safe. And if not, then I will hide you even further.”

Corvus presses you to the bed, hugs your body. And you become unbearably hot from his mass and the blanket. But you won't dare to show yourself. You are again a little girl who is afraid of monsters. Only this time the monster loves you. The cold voice in your ear sends a flock of chills down your spine.

“No one will find you.”

But he was wrong.

[glamdringwlv]

Unchain my heart: Prologue

Unchain my heart series. Logan Howlett x oc!fmale Summary: Mia Green has grown up in a lab, subjected to numerous experiments due to her status as a mutant. When she manages to escape, Charles Xavier takes her in at his mansion, giving her a new life and helping her regain her memories. However, the arrival of a new resident at the mansion threatens to destabilize everything she believed.

Warnings: Violence, foul language, a mix of various canons, X-Men movies, X-Men animated series, X-men comics.

Part 1.

. Prologue .

How long had she been in this state? Floating, in a cloud. She couldn't tell if she was up or down, or where her body ended and the liquid that kept her suspended began. She couldn't hear or see anything; she had been completely isolated. All she could hear was the beat of her heart.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

Her mind was blank; it had been a long time since she’d had any thoughts beyond mere existence. This made it more bearable.

“We don’t pay millions for you to torture people,” a voice argued.

“Sir, it’s not torture. It’s for the benefit of science and our security.”

“Is that what you tell yourself to sleep after doing these things, Stryker?”

She would remember that name for the rest of her life. Stryker. When she got out of this pit, she would drown him in it.

“These ‘people,’ as you call them, are a danger to themselves and the rest of humanity. It’s our duty to investigate how to stop them or end their mutations.”

Mutant. That’s what had brought her here. That and fear.

“We’ll give you a demonstration. This one here is our most dangerous weapon. We’re still trying to find a way to control it without it getting out of hand.”

“How did that go with Weapon X?”

Mia had heard about Weapon X. The scientists who pushed her to the brink of consciousness and sanity mentioned it frequently when talking about the enhancements they’d made to her DNA.

“That was a minor setback. We’re making progress with controlling the specimens, partly thanks to Subject 23.”

Subject 23. They had stripped her of so many things that they didn’t even refer to her by name anymore. She focused on keeping a part of herself safe, away from the sterile hands of the doctors trying to strip her of her identity. They didn’t want anything interfering with their commands.

“She has great potential. Unlike before, we’ve implanted a device in the frontal lobe of her brain. Only we can remove it; if anyone else tries to extract or destroy it, a neuronal pruning will be triggered throughout the brain, leading to the subject’s death.”

Mia was aware of that thing, feeling it buzz in her head, even though the lab staff claimed it was impossible to perceive. Surprise, not for a telepath. It interfered with her ability to enter the minds of those present, the only thing keeping them safe from a stroke or brain hemorrhage. She tried to move, but the device prevented it. It controlled her body, not her.

“We’ll start the demonstration. Proceed.”

Everything was set in motion, and she felt the need to writhe in anticipation of what was coming. Her muscles wanted to contract, echoing the pain they had experienced before. She wanted to scream, to rip off the electrodes binding her, but all she could do was bite down hard on the respirator supplying her with oxygen while she was submerged. On the outside, nothing had changed; her face showed calm, as if being in this situation didn’t faze her.

She felt the hum of the machines around her, unusual since she typically couldn’t tell when the shocks would start. This time, the hair all over her body stood on end, expectant. She felt the energy in the room move from the generators to the devices, sensing its intensity and location. A strange attraction connected her to the charge sustaining the room. She focused on it, and instinctively began drawing it into the tank in small amounts. She felt the electricity filtering through the conductive liquid that usually kept her suspended as the shocks constricted her entire body. Instead of contorting, she started absorbing everything around her. She felt stronger than ever.

“Sir, it seems something is diverting the energy from the room into the tank.”

“Locate the drain and stop it.”

Mia began channeling the new power towards the area where the device hummed and felt a terrible fear at Striker’s words. A neuronal pruning would be triggered throughout the brain, leading to the subject’s death. If she destroyed it, she would die, end everything. The dread sunk deep into her bones when she realized she didn’t care if it meant ending everything; she would be free one way or another. She focused and tried to overheat the implant.

“Sir… it’s Subject 23, she’s absorbing the electricity from the complex.”

“Impossible, that’s not her mutation.”

“Progressing with control, huh?”

She felt an unbearable pain in her head as the implant’s circuits began to fail. It was like a hive of wasps had settled behind her eyelids, distracting her from the task. The buzzing grew louder, resisting destruction and threatening to deafen her in the process. She felt dizzy, on the verge of losing consciousness, but she didn’t give up. This was her last chance to get out of here.

Chaos erupted around her as the lights suffered a surge and everything exploded with her decisions. She needed more; she couldn’t stop now. With a blood-curdling scream, she used all the fear she had felt up to that moment to gather the strength she needed. As the device overheated, an unbearable pain spread through her head. Suddenly, the buzzing stopped, and her mind was silent for the first time, despite the screams of those outside the tank.

The tank. Now her body was hers again. She felt numb but managed to move her fingers and toes, regaining control. She continued redirecting the electricity toward herself, causing sparks to fly around her.

“Turn off all the devices, initiate the containment system!”

But it was too late; there was no energy to cut off because all of it was within Mia’s body. With a powerful movement, she released a wave of electricity that made the container burst, scattering shards of glass and waves of conductive liquid around the room. In pain, she opened her eyes, but everything spun uncontrollably. She squeezed them shut and managed to get on her knees. She heard people surrounding her, could hear the thoughts of all the agents and the fear they emitted, still pointing all kinds of weapons at her. She fumbled for the respirator tube and with a tremendous effort, removed it. She felt it slide down her esophagus and her lungs begin to burn. When she finally got rid of it completely, a violent coughing fit overtook her.

She leaned on her hands, trying to remember what she was doing here or what was happening. There was only one command in her mind: run, escape. Her muscles were failing, and the pain in her head kept her dazed. She could still feel the energy coursing through her veins like liquid fire, giving her a strength she had never experienced before. Despite the noise and the light that hurt her eyes, she managed to place her hands on the ground, touching the liquid that had tortured her so many times.

Show them what it feels like.

With a cry of pain, she released more electricity, and anyone in contact with the fluid received an electric shock that left them paralyzed. She wanted to stop; she just wanted to immobilize them, but something twisted inside her wanted them to pay for what she had suffered. Someone had to be blamed for all her bones hurting at once.

A loud crash sounded as everyone present fell to the ground, immobilized. She could still hear the emergency alarms and people rushing towards her. With extreme difficulty, she staggered up and felt everything in her brain beginning to deteriorate.

With her last remaining strength, she began to run, not knowing where. Something inside her began to pull her, showing her the way. She surrounded herself with the remaining energy in her body so that no one would get in her way. With each step, threads of energy shot out, seeking a body to impact, taking down her pursuers.

She was exhausted and disoriented, barely remembering why she was running. Who were all these people? Who was she? There was only an animalistic instinct in her mind urging her to get out of there and destroy everything in her path. Her vision started to fade, and as she moved forward, she had to lean on the walls of the base to regain her balance and breath.

She heard footsteps behind her and panic struck again. She couldn’t go back; she wouldn’t let herself be caught again. She closed her eyes and, through the pain, saw the trail of all the minds hunting her. With superhuman effort, using a strength she didn’t have, she projected a thought through them, spreading like a virus.

Stop. Kill each other.

She heard the sounds of weapons firing and the cries of pain from those present. No one would follow her now. She waited for a wave of guilt to overwhelm her, but felt nothing, only desperation, which drove her to keep moving.

After stumbling aimlessly, she reached what she believed was an exit—a metal door separating her from freedom. She leaned with trembling hands and destroyed the system keeping it closed. When she emerged, the cold night air made her shiver, but she didn’t care. A tear fell down her cheek as she felt the sensation of being outside for the first time in years.

She continued running into a deep forest, her bare feet bruised and cut by the glass shards. The pain didn’t stop her; she had grown accustomed to it. However, her muscles began to fail. After a few more missteps, she fell to her knees, trembling from exertion and energy loss. With the night’s silence, she had time to feel her brain shutting down gradually, dying piece by piece. The faces she had seen, the conversations she had overheard—all faded to incoherence and eventually disappeared. Everything she once was was extinguished, drowned like a fire without oxygen.

Before losing consciousness, she heard a voice in her head: “We’ve found you. You’re safe now.”

[fellthemarvelous]

Invisible scars

(TW: religious trauma)

Looking at me, you wouldn't know that I've survived religious trauma. The marks of religious trauma are seldom visible. In fact, I had no idea for the longest time that I had religious trauma (I thought it was a thing that happened to other people). I simply spent decades questioning the reasons I felt like I was so broken on in the inside. I kept trying to figure out what I was doing wrong and why I never felt happy or like I was never able to connect to anyone. I had no idea that my experience with the church as a small child is what shaped me into the anxiety-ridden, majorly depressed disaster creature I am today.

I spent 12 years learning inside of Catholic schools. It has taken me more than 20 years to process and deconstruct, and I am always going to be a work in progress. I was brainwashed into believing the very worst about myself, and I was always just beyond saving because I had the misfortune of being a woman in a church that taught us that women experience pain during childbirth as a natural consequence of Eve eating the apple, which is why they enjoy making us suffer in the first place. They taught us that Adam ate the apple because Eve seduced him, so even though Adam also ate the apple, his sin still wasn't as bad as Eve's because she did it first and used sex to get him to do the same. They placed the blame for Original Sin squarely on Eve and thus onto every single girl who entered the church. If a boy did something to me that I didn't like, it's probably because I did something to provoke him first.

Do you know what I learned to do at a very young age just to be able to cope with that?

I learned to use humor to deflect when I was struggling. I smile when I don't want people to know I'm sad. I laugh at inappropriate times, especially when I'm uncomfortable. I learned to bottle up all of my emotions because expressing anything other than happiness is bad. I learned to compartmentalize. I taught myself how to pull out the right emotion for the right occasion because I was always striving to be who I thought everyone else wanted me to be. It was exhausting.

In the midst of all of this, I'm trying to figure out which parts of me are really me and which parts of me are things that were put into my head. If you've experienced indoctrination, you know what I'm talking about. They pulled us apart as small children and placed us in specific boxes and told us that deviating from the norm was bad.

Crowley is a fallen angel. His change from angel to demon is drastic on the outside.

You know he fell and that his wings turned black and he ended up in a pool of boiling sulfur. It's the reason Crowley is so easy to sympathize with. He suffered unfairly because of arbitrary rules that deemed him unforgivable. He's accepted that part of himself. He's clever and creative and it has helped him find ways to get out of doing his job for centuries. Hell doesn't care how jobs get done just as long as someone does them, and at this point humanity is doing more to damn themselves than the demons are able to keep up with. They're tired and overworked. Hell is overpopulated even though it should be infinite in size. Crowley wants no part of that system because he sees it for what it is, just as he sees Heaven for what it is. He has the marks to prove that he is one of the damned, but that has given him all the perspective he needs to see that both sides are fucked up and toxic and "irredeemable" (just like him). He has yet to fully let go of the hold Heaven has over him because of how badly he got hurt.

Aziraphale is still an angel.

He never fell, and he doesn't know why. He has lied to God. He has lied to Gabriel repeatedly. He lies to protect Crowley. He lies to protect humanity.

Remember, Crowley and Aziraphale started off in the same place.

They both started off as angels who were created to do God's bidding. Aziraphale is the one who told Crowley what he'd heard about everything shutting down in 6,000 years. He was simply trying to make conversation. He didn't think it was something Crowley would object to. Angels were just supposed to go along with God's plans, but Crowley had a different opinion and was vocal about it. Where did Aziraphale get his information in the first place? Why does nobody ever ask this question?

Aziraphale knows Heaven is toxic. He's not blind. We need to move past this idea that because he still has love for God that he doesn't know Heaven is fucked up. He never fell, and it's something he still fears because who the hell doesn't fear the thought of eternal torment, especially if you know it's real? God has never cast him out of Heaven though and he doesn't know why. It's probably something that hangs over his head like the Sword of Damocles.

Letting go is not an easy task. Aziraphale has always been an angel. He didn't have his identity ripped from him the same way that Crowley did. Crowley had to adapt to a brand new way of existing because he was cast out of Heaven.

Crowley's trauma is evident on the outside. Aziraphale's trauma is hidden on the inside. Just because you can't see it doesn't mean it isn't there.

Crowley was an angel and then he was a demon, but he doesn't want to be labeled as either.

Aziraphale has only ever known how to be an angel. He's only ever known the ways of Heaven.

I'm only in my early 40s. It has taken me 20+ years to undo 12 years of religious abuse. Aziraphale is immortal. He and Crowley have abandoned their jobs, but four years in the space of millions isn't a lot. No one overcomes indoctrination in four years. Especially when you had millions of years of blind obedience indoctrinated into you. It simply does not work that way no matter how much you want to believe it can.

It has taken me more than two decades to learn how to stop hating myself. I still have no idea how to love myself, but it's something I'm trying to learn.

My entire identity was wrapped up in what the church told me it would be. Once I fully denounced it and all organized religion, I found out I had no idea who I was. No one had prepared me for a life outside of this one very specific identity and role that I was expected to fill based on a very specific box I was placed into.

I still struggle with black and white concepts. It's hard to unlearn when you have no other basis for comparison, but that doesn't mean it's impossible. It means that these changes do not and will not ever happen overnight.

The fall didn't just affect the demons though. It affected the angels as well. Look at how tightly wound the angels are. They're always trying to do the good thing, but they have no idea what that actually means, and you realize this when Uriel asks The Metatron if they had done something wrong. They are scared of making mistakes, but none of them know what they are supposed to be doing since Gabriel disrupted the status quo. You can see they are unsure of themselves and of each other. The concept of free will is so foreign to them, but Aziraphale showed all of them that it was in their grasp when he allowed Gabriel and Beelzebub to decide where to go so they could be together.

It takes a lot of audacity (and sheer ignorance) to dismiss Aziraphale as power-hungry and abusive.

Aziraphale did nothing to punish Gabriel and Beelzebub. He allowed them to leave because they were in love with each other, and he knows what that feels like. He thought he was about to get the same fate with Crowley until The Metatron showed up and refused to take no for an answer.

He doesn't want to fix Heaven because he thinks it's perfect. If he thought it was perfect he wouldn't want to fix it.

Aziraphale is going back into the Lion's Den. He knows what he's going up against. He's been humiliated and belittled and abused by Heaven for thousands of years.

His scars are there even though you can't see them, and he hides his pain with humor and silliness.

When I see people advocating for Aziraphale to suffer even more because they don't think he has suffered enough, I find myself sitting back in one of those classrooms in Catholic school being told that I deserve the bad things that happen to me because I somehow failed to measure up to some impossible metric. The cruelty of that mindset aimed at Aziraphale is kinda the reason Crowley hates Heaven in the first place because he's been there too.

And as someone who is processing religious trauma, it's disheartening to see people say that because Aziraphale has yet to fully let go of Heaven that he deserves harsher treatment. Crowley would definitely not agree with that sentiment.

[oasiswithmyg]

A New Friend

So'lek x Sarentu!Reader

Summary for this part: You worry for Nor, who is like a brother to you, But the RDA keeps you on your toes as they destroy a Resistance field lab. It's up to you to help them and you might just meet a new face in the fight.

Word count: 4.1k.

Prev - Masterlist - Next

The back door to the resistance base opened and you were greeted with the scenery of Pandora once more. However, you were on a mission of your own, which was to find Nor. His state after the connection with the Tarsyu, was concerning to say the least.

You used your Na’vi senses to track his scent, rushing through the forest in order to not lose it. You scale up the lands, seeing a beautiful Ikran fly by, you follow it, hoping it would lead you to where you need to be. You feel that you are reaching closer to Nor, but there is something you want to ask of So’lek, so you contact him through the radio that he had given you.

“Hey, So’lek. You there ? I think Nor’s nearby. Maybe, you could talk to him like you did with me? About your clan. How it feels. Just as I felt your pain and understanding, maybe Nor could too ?”. However, no reply comes through the radio, which makes you worry, you stop in your path and hold the radio close to you “So’lek?”. Then finally came alive with his voice.

“Alma and I are checking into one of our other camps. It’s gone quiet, Sarentu” HIs tone seemed urgent and distressed. Like he wasn’t focused. “You sound worried”, you state as you continue on your path up. So’lek replies in anger, but not at you, “The Sky People continue to spread”.

Concerned as well for your fellow Resistance allies, you ask him, “You think they found it?”, but only static somes throught the radio. “So’lek?!” The radio cuts off, you look at it in disbelief. ‘After I speak with Nor I need to find So’lek, I’m worried about him’ you think to yourself.

At last when you reach the top hill, you are greeted with the clear vast sky at first, as you can see the other planet looming in the distance as well as the floating lands. You are awestruck for a moment, unable to help yourself as you walk closer to the edge.

You see Nor from the corner of your eyes as he walks in front of you, closer to a small campfire, his whole body seemed tense and confused. He notices you as he looks back, his words anxious as he questioned you, “What must our ancestors think of us? Do you think they pity us? Sad to see what we have become?” his face turned back around, his gaze looking straight ahead yet there seemed to be no focus on anything in particular.

“We’re still Sarentu..” You try to reassure him, but Nor is quick to interject, “Teylan barely speaks our tongue Y/N!...but then he always preferred human words”, he sighed, as his voice almost came out as a defeated whisper at the end.

You frowned, it is not Teylan’s fault that he is this way. He was barely past the toddler stage before they were all forced into The Ambassador Program. Being taught the human words as well as to behave like a human are all he ever knows. Although, you were a biased as you always saw him as a younger brother that needed to be protected. “You know you cannot blame him for that, Nor. Alma says we all need time to adjust” you gently rebuked his words as he crouched near the fire, his body still looking tense, you went over to him, bending down a bit and placing a comforting hand on his shoulder, to let him know that you were there for him, your friend.

Nor placed his right hand over yours squeezing it once, thanking you for the support you provided. You gently removed your hand, slowly getting back up and looking over the lands of Pandora, thinking out loud, “Why did the RDA come back?”

“They wanted more of Pandora” Nor replied, as you looked back at him and him to you, he continued, his voice filled with hatred “They always do”.

“Then we’ll need to fight!” you declared as your stance became more confident, knowing that this was the only way to protect and save Pandora. Nor voiced his agreement, “Yes. Aha’ri would have wanted us to fight'', the conviction in his eyes becoming stronger. Hearing your sister’s name from Nor just made you believe in this plan.  You nodded at him, only you knew how much he cared for your sister, being his confidant whenever the pain was too much. He smiled shakily in return.

BOOM

A loud booming sound was heard to the west of where you stood, both you and Nor flinching at it. Turning your head towards it, only to see some kind of bombs going off and the forest lit on fire. You were shocked, wondering what happened. Then you could hear your radio, crackling to life, with Priya’s frantic voice coming out.

“Hey, can anyone hear me? Listen, Alma’s got a problem over at our western camp…one of ours is hurt!”

“I’m here!”, you reply hurriedly, not wanting to waste any time as the problem would become only worse.

You could hear the relief in Priya’s voice as she spoke, “Oh, thank god Y/N. I’m picking up more RDA heading that way”, just as she said those words, more of the RDA scorpion gunship flew by to the location. You and Nor looked on in worry. Nor turned to look at you, his voice firm and reassuring as he declared, “Go Y/N. I’ll find Ri’nela and Teylan. We’ll make sure the HQ is safe, come back to us safe”. He then rushed past you to head back to the resistance base, as you looked over at the smoke rising in the distance.

Luckily, you had brought your short bow that So’lek allowed you to keep after he had given it to you. You did not have a gun or rifle because you did not like using them, but if it protected those you cared about from the RDA then you would only use it on them. You jumped down carefully and as quickly as you could, hearing Priya’s voice once again through the radio, her voice sounding as if she was almost close to tears, “Please, please hurry. It sounded really bad Y/N - I don’t know what to do…. I’m scared, Anqa’s out of the field labs, and Dani-”

“Calm down Priya, take deep breaths, I’m on my way. Do not worry!” you tried to calm her down as you rushed past the forest, the site of the smoke steadily coming into frame. “All that smoke-It’s going to draw more RDA to that camp!” She continued anxiously.

“I’ll get to them first, I promise you Priya” You say as you cut off the radio, redoubling your efforts in order to reach there as quickly as you could. You pulled out your bow as you arrived at the area, shocked to find upon reaching there that the land was scorched and the field lab was on fire, with several members of the Resistance injured scattered. Your ears twitched, hearing a deep voice in the distance say somberly, “Alma, It is too late”. You could immediately recognize who it was as it was the voice of someone you could not keep out of your head.

So’lek.

You could also hear Alma, her voice frustrated and distressed as you drew closer. She was doing compressions on one of the fallen members of the Resistance. So’lek was scanning the area carefully for any more signs of the RDA, you could see his ears twitch in your direction, his body which was strung tight in tension, loosened a bit as he registered your presence.

So’lek felt relief as soon as he noticed that the Sarentu had arrived at the research station. He knew could trust her to have his back in this. Although he does not know where this trust comes from, nonetheless, he chooses to ignore it, deciding to deal with it later once they’re safe from danger.

“Damnit. How’d they find this place? It’s not on any of their patrol routes” Alma frustratedly questioned, angry and disturbed to see her fellow members injured. So’lek could only reply, his voice grim.

“They are looking for us now”.

Another member, Hajir, let out a cry of pain as he leaned against the almost destroyed research field lab. Alma rushed over, her voice stressed as she reassured him, “Okay. You’ll be fine, all right? Listen to me. You’ll be fine”.

You looked away from the scene in order to search for So’lek, only to find him holding out some sort of thick vultsyìp (Stick) weapon out to you in one hand, looking at you with trust and confidence in his eyes with the fire in the back casting an intimidating scene  on him.

“Here. Have you seen one of these before?” So’lek questioned as he passed it to you, your hands nervously grasping it, while looking at him, you spluttered, “Uh, n-no”. So’lek could hear the apprehension in the Sarentu’s voice, his gaze became gentle as he tried to reassure her, not wanting her to be in distress.

“Don’t worry, It’s easy”, he stated as he looked back, scanning for any signs of the RDA, the fire now casting a orange glow on his face because of this you were able to see the two scars that you hadn’t noticed before on the left side of his face, one which ran down from the top of his ear to his cheek and another just below his ear. "Even with them, he still looks very handsome," you thought, before coming to a realization of what you just thought “Wait, handsome. What am I even thinking?! Oh Eywa, Y/N focus!” 

You shook your head to get rid of the thoughts, just in time before So’lek’s voice brought you back, “We’ll have more on us soon”, his eyes looking towards the sky in search of any gunship.

“We’ll need to stabilize him” Alma stated as she looked over the injured.

So’lek turned to you and came closer, “Don’t take too long”  he gently declared, as he came even closer to you, you had to look up at him slightly. He resumed stating, “There’s an oil refinery ahead. I’ll make sure the RDA come running to it. Keep them off Alma and Hajir till then” You could see Alma in the background carrying Hajir inside the station.

You must have looked anxious, because So’lek gaze became focused on you with a soft and reassuring look. He came closer and placed a hand on your shoulder, his voice gentle as he said, “You can handle this Sarentu, I trust you. Do not worry, I’ll be quick”, he steps back and just before he rushes off, his face turns to look at you straight in the eyes and his voice, which was already deep and low in tone, became serious and demanding, as he stated “Stay safe for me”.

Your stomach fluttered and your tail started curling around your leg, a giddy and curious feeling arising in you. “What is he doing to me?”, you thought, as heat rose to your cheeks. For some reason though, those words from him were all you needed to be strong to face the RDA head on. You looked over the new weapon that he gave you. It looked like it could throw something, maybe a bomb. 

Your radio started with So’lek stating, “I see more soldiers coming. Be ready”. Well that made you nervous, you exclaimed, “What? Where ?!”.

“Breathe Sarentu. Use your surroundings. Look for any openings. The humans will stumble into your traps”. He reassures before cutting the radio off, presumably to cause the distraction he stated.

You close your eyes for a moment and take in deep breaths just as So’lek said, calming yourself down. His words became an anchor to steady you. Helping you think straight and focus on the incoming fight. You looked around the research station and the area surrounding it, you could tell that standing up on the lab would give you more vantage points to look out for, so you did just that. Just as you jumped up So’lek’s voice could be heard again through the radio, “I left more ammo for the staff sling on the airlock roof. I trust you to make good use of it” and saw a few boxes that contained supplies, bullets and spare parts that So’lek said there would be, making sure to collect them knowing you’ll need them for the fight.

Then you started searching for the openings that could be used by the RDA, especially the Gunships to land. Those vehicles and AMP suits would require steady ground. Finally finding some places, you put in the sensor bomb in the net of the staff sling and draw back as you sling it across the area strategically. They would go off if anyone or anything stepped on them,

Just then, you can hear the blades of the Scorpion Gunships getting closer, as they descend from the sky and just as you predicted, they landed exactly where you expected them to, right on the traps you had set. The gunship exploded, instantly destroying it and killing off the RDA. You tell more would be arriving, and this time not only the gunships, but few Amp suits and stray RDA humans around. However, Alma called you through the radio, asking for the medical supplies that were over at the other lab nearby. You rushed over there, entering the lab and collecting the supplies as well as finding an assault rifle. You were low on arrows, so this should help you in the fight. You notify Alma that you got them, she sounds relieved that you did.

As you head out of the lab, a gunship comes into view and aims the machine gun at you, just before they can, you look in awe when a Na’vi on an Ikran flies into the scene and tries to destroy the ship, causing the RDA ship to retreat. You rush back to where Alma is, radioing So’lek on the way.

“So’lek! There’s another Na’vi here! They’re helping me” you exclaim in surprise and excitement at a new face.

When So’lek heard his radio turn on and your voice filtered through with the shout of his name, he was worried that something happened, that something went wrong and you were hurt. He wanted to rush back to help you, but luckily You continued to relay what had happened. So’lek chuckled in relief, his voice sounded more confident as he said, “Good. Explosives are done. That should be enough to distract the rest. Make sure the camp is clear. I will deal with a few of them on my end. Contact me when you are done”.

As you reached the camp, you could see some AMP suits milling about. You used the same strategy as before, wherever there was a cluster of RDA you used your sling staff. You made sure to examine your surroundings, running back and forth, scanning for more signs of danger. Killing the stranglers with your bow. Once the coast was clear, you headed to the entrance of the airlock doors.

The door opens with Alma coming out with Hajir in her arms, “That was close” she sighed, as she explained, “They have plenty of AMP suits, more than I’ve seen around before. One of Mercer’s favorite toys” She grumbled the last sentence as if remembering something bitter. You frowned as well, just hearing that man’s name made you angry. Alma turned to look at you, her gaze on you was filled with happiness and guilt, “You were always quick. Always so ready to help anyone, even back at TAP. I’m sorry you had to face them alone Y/N”, she said as she took the medical supplies from your hand and started working on Hajir.

“I wasn’t alone. So’lek distracted them..” You were quick to inform her, knowing that if it wasn’t for So’lek you couldn’t have done it. However, you tried to keep the worry out of your mind for him, knowing that he can handle himself, you continued with a question, “and did you see that Na’vi?” your excitement of seeing another Na’vi was through the roof.

“Ikran are fierce, and very protective of their riders. An RDA scorpion is no match for them” Alma explained as wrapped the bandages around Hajir. Then you heard a growl come from behind you. You immediately turned around to see the same Ikran and Na’vi from before land near you. 

The Na’vi warrior hops off the Ikran, her voice rings out amused as she calls out to you, “A Na’vi, dreamwalker and human. Fighting the Sky people alone? You are very brave” she walks toward you looking at Alma and Hajir, her gaze then shifting to you, smiling when you exclaim “That was amazing! The way you took out that thing…Thank you”, you could not stop yourself from gushing. She truly was amazing when she fought.

She comes closer to you, however her smile drops as she sees you face, her eyes fixated on the mark below your left eye. “Wait..” she mumbles, her hand coming closer to inspect your face, “You have the mark”. The Na’vi warrior’s face slowly turns into shock, her eyes widening and her tail curling in surprise. She leans closer to you,questioning you in disbelief, “You are… Sarentu?”. She takes your hand, her voice becoming more animated, “The storytellers. Bringers of peace. My father said your clan disappeared years ago. We thought you were dead!”.

“It is a long story but the Sarentu spirit is not so easy to kill”  You declared, standing proud that you defied their beliefs, that your clan, although so small in numbers, still survives.

The Na’vi warrior smiles at that, she speaks to herself in awe, “I had hoped to find the Resistance here, but a Sarentu…”. She then focuses her gaze on you, standing formally as she introduces herself, “I’m Etuwa, tsahik (matriarch/Interpreter of Eywa) of the Aranahe.” She brings her hand to her forehead and moves it towards you, the motion of saying Oel ngati kameie (I see you). You do it as well.

Alma interrupts, sharing her condolences to Etuwa, “I knew your mother…I’m sorry”. Etuwa looks at her, acknowledging Alma’s compassion, she then states grimly, “Our home suffers too. The sky people grow bolder and the land falters under their feet. And yet, my people…Our Hometree”, her voice shakes, “We are not warriors. But war has come”. Etuwa then turns to you, the hope in her eyes strong. “My father still needs convincing but he knew the Sarentu. He will listen to you. He must” She speaks with hope and determination in her tone, as she heads back to her Ikran.

“I need to get them back. The others…They should know what happened here”. Alma explains to Etuwa, helping the injured.

“Of course, I’ll help with your wounded” Etuwa stated calmly as she lifted Hajir and took him back to her Ikran, hopping on them. She calls out to you, “My Hometree isn’t far from here. Tell them I sent you. But not all see as I do, so please do not mention my part in…this” she whispers the last part. Etuwa looks towards you, “May your spirits soar with the currents of the wind”. Her Ikran takes off into the sky as you look at her in awe.

After a couple of moments gaining your bearings, you contact So’lek immediately in excitement and hope, “So’lek, another Na’vi showed up to help! Etuwa. From the Aranahe clan. She asked me to visit her Hometree. Maybe more Na’vi will join us now?”

So’lek replied, feeling the relief spread through  him that you were safe and hearing that it was Etuwa that helped, he knew that she would understand you and your nature. However he felt slightly sad as well that he had to lower your expectation about the Na’vi joining, “Not likely. I tried before. It did not go so well. Their leader, Ka’nat practically threw me out. He is not easily swayed.”

“He’s not afraid of the RDA?”, you were confused as you questioned. How can a Na’vi not want to stop the Sky people that are destroying Pandora for their own benefit?

“Rather, they have already caused him great sorrow. He will protect his people from further suffering. That, I can understand.” and So’lek did, having lost his own clan to the very same people. However, he could not understand what it was like to lose a mate like the Aranahe leader and he didn’t intend to find out. For a brief moment he wondered what if he had lost you. He quickly shook his head from those thoughts, finding them painful. He continued with his explanation, trying to avoid his thoughts, “The Aranahe are normally united in all things, but the war has sparked some friction. Many will close their eyes to an uneasy truth. But a Sarentu may help them see”

You could hear the strong faith he had in you, that you could accomplish such a task and you felt the ‘butterflies’ in your stomach flutter, as Priya once said when she felt really happy. However, it seemed neither of you wanted  to cut off contact, there was something you wanted to ask him, just as he, to you.

“So’lek, are you hur-” “Sarentu, are you injur-”. Both of you spoke at the same time, concerned filled in your tones. You stopped, feeling that flutter feeling again. Feeling too flustered you quickly mumble to him, using the words he said to you before, “Come back safe to HQ for me, So’lek” and you cut the contact, covering your face as it heated up, you squatted down on the ground, your tail swishing so hard, feeling shy yet happy.

On the other end however, So’lek was standing at the oil refinery with defeated RDA lying around him, he hears the line cut and honestly cannot fathom what had just occurred, his face hot and his heart racing from the adrenaline of the fight as well as something he dares not to acknowledge. He covers his eyes, his head tilted to the sky as he sighs.

So’lek connects with Priya through the radio, before he could say anything however, “So’lek, oh my god! Is everything ok now? Did Y/N reach there in time? Is she and Alma okay ? Are you okay? Is-” he interrupts sighing, knowing that if he didn’t she would go on with her ramblings, “Priya there is something I need you to do” He can hear her immediately stop her previous talk to listen to him. “Yeah sure! What can I do for you?”

“I need you to check on the Sarentu for me when she comes back to the base. See to it that she is not hiding any wounds or pain. She has fought well.” So’lek asked, knowing that the Sarentu trusts Priya out of all the humans in the base and that he could too. The only he asked for this was because he could see that the Sarentu always cared more about others than herself. While running from the RDA in the TAP facility as she is asked about her friends and him even when she was alone, her getting the Dapophet plant for him when he was hurt, her first mission and now. He just wanted her to acknowledge herself as well.

Priya for once was astonished because this is the first time S’lek has asked anything or for anyone ever! It felt like some cogs were turning in her mind as to what could be the reason for him to ask for such a thing and definitely felt excited about it if she was correct!. Priya replied back quickly, “Okay yeah, I can do that! I mean I was gonna do that anyway cause she’s like my friend you know? Y/N’s like really nice, she listens to me and stuff! Also this is the first time you’re asking something, is there something going-”

“Thanks Priya”, So’lek interrupts her train of words, not wanting to hear her theories about him and the Sarentu and cuts the line off. He sighs again for the nth time, feeling drained mentally. He could only stare confusedly at the sky, his thoughts jumbled with the Sarentu and his revenge against the RDA,  but one question in his mind stood out.

‘What in Eywa’s name is going on with him?���

Thank you for reading through and I hope you like it !

[anti-the-glitch-bitch]

The Phantom Soldier 2

The first thing that Danny notices when he comes back to consciousness is the sound of a machine beeping. The second thing is the smell of cleaning chemicals, making his nose wrinkle in disgust. He hurts everywhere, but he couldn’t deny the cool warmth surrounding him. He just wants to go back to sleep. To avoid the pain that he knows is coming any minute now. The pain that has happened every day since he’s been captured.

It takes Danny a moment to realize that he’s lying in a semi-upright position in a comfortable bed. Shock filters through his battered brain and he slowly opens up his eyes in the dimly lit room. It doesn’t look like any room that he’s been placed in before. If he’s being honest, it kind of reminds him of a hospital room, but that’s not possible. His kidnappers would never let that happen.

Continuing his inspection of the room, Danny notices a large window with shades pulled down to dim the bright light trying to come through. It almost looks like sunlight, but it could also be a trick. 

Danny slowly removes the blanket covering him, wincing from the pain that shoots through his body as he does so, and notices the IV in his arm taped down so that it doesn’t move. He can only imagine what these people are pumping into him this time, but he's learned it's best not to fight it if he doesn't want a beating later.

Hopefully it doesn't make him sick this time. 

Danny is weak from the lack of human food and ectoplasm. While he doesn't really need to eat that much anymore, he still needs a good amount of ectoplasm to survive. Hydra wanted to see how long he could last without either, and now it's taking everything he has not to completely collapse. It doesn't help that he had put so much of his energy into his ghostly wail before he passed out. 

Slowly, he positions himself on the edge of the bed. The IV bag is connected to a pole that he grabs with weak hands so he has something to help hold himself up. He isn't the steadiest, but hey, he's standing. 

With a deep breath, Danny moves towards the only window in the room trying not to die again. He's too focused on trying to put one foot in front of the other to look around. He's not even sure how much further it is to the window. 

Honestly, Danny's surprised a scientist or guard hasn't come in by now. This has to be another trick on their part. Something else to force him into obedience or get him another beating. He shudders at the reminder, almost losing his grip on the pole. 

He's nearly to the window when the pole wheels catch on something, tripping Danny up. He loses his grip on the pole and cries out as he falls. He's too weak and too hurt to be able to get up and now he'll never feel the sun on his face. If that's even what the light was. 

Tears don't come as Danny lies on the tiled floor in despair. Hydra made sure to beat those out of him long ago. No, he simply stares at the wall that he's fallen next to, hoping that he isn't punished for getting out of the bed they put him in. He holds onto that hope as he hears the door open and footsteps rush towards him. 

Voices swirl around him, but he's disassociating and can't understand them. Danny remains limp as someone picks him up and gently places him back on the bed. More voices sound, but they slowly stop when he doesn't respond. He doesn't look at them. Doesn't acknowledge them in any way as he stares at the wall. 

Just that little bit of activity has exhausted him, and he doesn't hesitate to fall back into the comforting darkness of sleep. 

~~~

Murmurs coax Danny out of his sleep. Murmurs that sound unfortunately close to him. Like, right next to him close. 

He tries not to stiffen up, to stay as relaxed as possible but the machine next to him gives away the rapid beating of his heart. The flurry of activity surrounding him makes him afraid of what is going to happen next. Nothing good ever happens when there are this many people around him.

The strangers try to talk to him. To get him to say anything. A few even try to get him to open his eyes, but when he remains still, the voices slowly dwindle until there is only the steady beeping of the machine. 

Danny can feel the IV taped to his skin. Can feel the way the gown shifts across his many wounds that stopped healing a long time ago. He can feel the thin blanket draped across him as he adjusts to find some kind of comfortable position (no position is comfortable).

Danny slowly opens his eyes, blinking his eyes rapidly at the bright light. He closes them and tries again after a few moments, letting himself adjust to his surroundings. 

It appears to be the same room as the one he woke up in last time. With its white walls and large window with the shades closed, though this time there’s no light coming through the shades. Danny doesn’t see any cameras in the room, but it’s best not to test the limits of his freedom.

It’s best not to catch their ire.

So, Danny lays in bed waiting for whatever terrible things the scientists have in store for him today. Maybe, hopefully, if he does whatever they want without complaint, they'll start to feed him again. He doesn’t even know how many weeks it's been since he's had anything to eat.

Voices outside the door catch Danny’s attention. They must be right outside the door because he can hear them clearly. Though, it’s not like they’ve ever tried to keep their voices down around him before. He’s just an object to them anyway.

“-doing?” a male voice asks.

“He woke up a few hours ago, but won’t respond to anyone. He flinches away when we touch him, but otherwise doesn’t object. He wouldn’t even open his eyes to look at us. He’s been through a lot, Tony. It’s going to be a long time before he’s ready to pretend to be human again. Be patient with him. If you upset him, I’ll have no problem kicking you out.” a stern female voice replies.

There’s a small laugh but it doesn’t sound happy to Danny. “Doc, I’ve been through all the files. That kid was an experiment to them. Bucky was more of a person to them than that kid was. They did things to him that I’m not sure even a Super Soldier would survive. I sent over the files but to tell you the truth…from what the files say, I don’t think that kid is alive. If he is then he’s made of tougher stuff than all the Avengers combined.” Tony (Danny thinks it's this Tony person the doctor is talking to) says.

Danny hopes they aren’t talking about him, but he sincerely doubts it. They’re outside his door, after all. 

The door starts to open and Danny panics. He doesn’t want to know what they’ll do to him. Doesn’t want the pain to start again, but knows if he doesn’t let it happen, it’ll only be worse in the end. The machine next to him goes haywire as his heart picks up its pace again.

A stern Asian woman in a white lab coat rushes over to his side, checking the machine and silencing the alarm. Danny takes no notice of her, but he does watch as a shorter man in jeans and a t-shirt comes trailing in behind her. He doesn’t look like a scientist and maybe he isn’t. Maybe he’s the person in charge of the scientists. The person that the scientists always talk about.

“Hey. Can you tell me your name?” the stern woman says with concern and it draws Danny’s attention. Sometimes, they pretended to be nice.

Danny wants to tell her, but at the same time, he doesn’t. His throat aches from the ghostly wail that he hasn’t used in some time. He isn’t sure when the last time he spoke was. He’s not allowed to speak unless ordered. Like the lady wants him to do now, but his throat hurts.

He opens his mouth and��nothing. Trying to talk just causes him to cough. Danny starts to panic, because he knows that punishment comes when he doesn’t do what they want.

“It’s okay. You don’t have to say anything right now. I’ll get you some water and we can try again later. Right now I just want you to rest.” The doctor looks concerned with her soft oval face and the wisps of brown hair that have fallen out of her bun but that’s probably because he’s broken.

 A broken asset is a useless one.

Danny watches the doctor give the man a stern glance as she leaves. The man is staring at him and it’s making Danny nervous. He doesn’t know what the guy wants. He wishes the man would give him an order. Say something. Do something. Just…

“Hey kid,” the man finally says. His voice is concerned and his body language screams awkwardness as he rubs the back of his neck. “Listen. I know you’ve been through a lot, but the people here are good people. You won’t have to deal with anything like what those Hydra goons did.”

The man walks a little closer to Danny’s bed. He doesn’t seem at all concerned that Danny hasn’t said a word to him, he just continues to talk.

“We’ll get you all fixed up and then when the Doc okays it, you can live on the compound with me and the rest of the team. How’s that sound?” The man's eyes soften from that intense stare to something sadder and his smile disappears when Danny doesn’t give a response.

Not answering a question usually gets him a punishment, but the lady told him not to say anything. Is this man in charge or the lady? Who is he supposed to obey? Danny opens up his mouth to try and say something, anything, so the man won’t get angry with him, but nothing will come out. Just a wisp of air and a cough. 

The cough hurts his throat and he tries to swallow the dryness away but it's no use. Thankfully, that doctor comes back. Unfortunately, she comes back with a whole tray of items and it scares him. Danny doesn't show it, though. He just watches with a blank expression. 

“Tony, I told you not to upset him. This is the exact opposite of that,” the doctor says, glaring at Tony as she puts the tray down on a rolling table near the window. 

Tony takes a few steps back, giving the doctor space to roll the entire table over to the bed. “I'm offended, Cho. I didn't do anything. You can even ask Friday. I'm being a good boy. All I did was say that once he heals up enough and you give the okay, he'll be moving into the compound with the rest of us.”

Danny watches the back and forth happening between the two people trying to figure out the dynamics. They talk to each other like equals, making this situation a bit more confusing to Danny. 

Doctor Cho grabs a white styrofoam cup and hands it to Danny gently. He takes the cup and looks inside, finding it filled with little chips of ice. “You are severely malnourished, so no real solids or liquids right now until we can get your body used to nutrients again. You can munch on ice for now to help with your throat, but do it slowly so you don't overwhelm your body.” Danny gives a nod to the doctor and immediately puts a few pieces in his mouth letting the ice melt to help ease his throat. 

The doctor gives Danny a nod and a smile. “That's good. If you need more ice, just press this button here,” She grabs a remote from beside the bed and hands it to him, pointing out one of the buttons. 

“I need to take a look at your bandages and change some of them. Is it okay if I touch you?” the doctor asks, as if Danny has any real choice. He has no idea what their plan is, but it’s best to just go along with it until someone gives him a direct order or his handler comes in to get him.

He looks between Tony and the doctor before giving a small nod. The doctor turns to the table again, putting on some gloves before grabbing a few things. Danny doesn’t want to see what this lady is about to do to him, so he watches Tony instead. Watches the way Tony messes with his phone for a few minutes before putting it up and turning his attention to him. 

“So, you got any parents out there missing you, kid? If you know their number, I can give ‘em a ring so they don’t have to worry about where you are anymore. I looked through all the files but it never mentioned a family and facial recognition can’t seem to get an ID on you. Friday’s still looking, but it’ll help us out if you can tell us anything.” Tony’s eyes never waver from Danny’s and it makes him uncomfortable.

This is a trick that Danny knows well. The trainers and scientists used this trick all the time to see if his time in the chair had any effect on him. They’d pretend he was rescued, ask him really personal questions about his life and family, and then, if he didn’t answer how they liked, they would punish him and put him in the chair. They’d done it so many different ways and times that Danny no longer trusts anyone that asks those sorts of questions.

Danny stares at Tony, swallows, and then says the required response. “This asset has no family.” It comes out raspy and barely audible, but he manages to get the words out. 

Tony looks away for a moment with a frown that he quickly hides. Danny catches glimpses of several other expressions, but he isn't sure how to interpret them. 

A gentle poking in a particularly painful area makes Danny wince and look at the doctor. She’s putting some sort of cream on a nasty gash that’s bruised. “Sorry if I hurt you. I just need to wrap this back up and then I’m done.” She’s very quick with her work, and soon Danny is bandaged back up and bringing his gown back down.

Doctor Cho places the blanket and flips the end of the blanket back over Danny’s waist with a smile. “There. All done. I’ll leave you alone now, but if you need anything, push that little button I showed you." She picks up the tray, leaving the table next to his bed and walks towards the door, whispering something too low for Danny to hear as she passes Tony and leaves the room.

When the door closes, Tony drags a chair over to Danny’s bed and sits down. “I feel like there’s a misunderstanding between the two of us so let’s start over. My name is Tony Stark, also known as Iron Man and a member of the Avengers.”

There's a brief pause from Tony as he waves a hand toward Danny in a flourish that Danny really isn’t sure how to interpret. Is he waiting for a response? There was no order given or question asked for him to answer.

“Are you my handler?” Danny’s head cocks to the side as he watches the man’s shoulders slump just briefly. It isn’t a response that Danny expects or can decipher, but he briefly worries that he might have made a mistake asking that question.

“Oh, kid.” Danny’s maybe-handler sighs, giving him a sad smile. “This isn’t Hydra. I know you don’t believe me, but you will eventually. Do you remember your name? Cause I know it isn’t ‘asset’.”

Another trick.

“My name is the Phantom Soldier. What are my orders?” Danny asks, placing the cup on the table and readying himself for whatever this man demands.

“Just focus on getting better, okay?” 

Not a request that Danny is expecting, but if they want to use him for something, then he’ll need to be in peak condition. He gives Tony a small nod in response.

Tony looks at his watch and his phone before returning his attention to Danny. “Look, I gotta go do a few things, but I’ll check on you before bed. I know Cho said you can use the button to call her, but if you need anything, anything at all, then just let my A.I. Friday know. Say hello, Friday.”

Danny jumps as a female’s voice comes from nowhere. “Hello. If I can be of any help, please do not hesitate to let me know.” Danny can’t see any cameras or speakers, but that doesn’t mean they aren’t there.

With no other response, Tony leaves the room.

The minute the door shuts, Danny relaxes. Picking up the white cup, he sucks on a few more pieces of ice. A tentative touch on his neck with the hand that doesn’t have an IV tells him that he doesn’t have that horrible collar. Not that it means much. His throat is still messed up from his last ghostly wail that he can’t even do a small one. He’ll have to hope these people don’t put the collar back on before he can gather his strength again.

Danny’s throat is rough, but his actual neck doesn’t feel bad. He would say the gash on his chest hurts the worst, but honestly he’s so used to being in pain at this point that he isn’t particularly bothered by it. No, the worst is the bone deep fatigue that never seems to go away. The kind of fatigue that can wear a person down until they give up. The kind of fatigue that Danny’s been dealing with for years now.

Settling into the bed a bit more, Danny looks around the room. There isn’t much aside from the medical equipment. The walls are a bright blue that lightens the room up. There are no lights in the ceiling that Danny can see, but the entire room is lit up. The room is also large enough that another bed sits on the other side of the room. Far enough that each person can have privacy and yet close enough that if there was another person, they wouldn’t have to shout to have a conversation.

Two large TVs sit on the wall opposite the beds, though they’re both shut off at the moment. Danny can’t remember the last time he was allowed to watch television. His kidnappers always tell him that objects don’t get to have luxuries, and that’s what he is, isn’t it? 

An object.

A weapon.

Certainly not a person. At least, not anymore.

They’ve made sure of that.

Danny lays his head back, and even with the lights on, falls asleep to the sounds of his heartbeat beeping on the machine next to him.

~~~

Tony paces back and forth in his lab as the anger boils underneath his skin. If he could go back in time, he absolutely would just so he could destroy those fuckers again. Except he’d make the pain last longer. Maybe employ Natasha to use her skills in torture.

“This asset has no family.”

Watching that suspiciously blank face on the kid's face as he’d said that had made Tony's heart shatter. He never wants to hear anything like that come from the kid ever again. Unfortunately, Tony knows he'll probably be hearing things like that a lot until the teams are able to earn some trust and reprogram the brainwashing. 

He's not sure if his B.A.R.F. program will work on the kid as easily as it did on Barnes. From the files the genius had read through and Cho's reports, the poor kid isn't completely human. He isn’t a mutant or Inhuman either, lacking the genes to be classified as such. Something about his DNA is hard to test and his blood deteriorates too quickly to really do anything with. By the third test, it’s deteriorated so much that none of the normal markers will work. 

Tony needs Barnes. As much as he hates to admit it, talking to the guy might give him the insight Tony needs to help the kid.

“Friday, can you ask Barnes to come to the lab?” Tony sits down and pulls up the footage from the kid’s (he really needs to come up with a name for him) room.

A moment later, Friday responds, “Mr. Barnes is on his way down, Boss.”

Tony doesn’t reply, instead he watches the entire interaction between Cho, the kid, and himself, trying to get a clue on what to do. He knows it’s not really going to help, but he needs to do something or he’s going to start throwing things.

Tony is on his third playthrough when Barnes walks through the lab doors. “Friday said you needed to talk to me but she didn’t say why.”

“C’mere and watch this,” Tony replies. “I figured it’s best to go to the expert on brainwashing. Maybe you’ll be able to tell me the best way to help this kid.” Tony restarts the video, not giving Barnes a chance to object.

Barnes sits down on the nearest chair, his eyes not leaving the hologram. If Tony hadn’t been watching the guy, he’d have never caught the rage and fear that passes over his face. It’s quickly replaced with guilt, but Tony leaves his questions until the video is done.

When the video is done, Tony stops it. “What did you see that I didn't?”

The super soldier turns to Tony with that same guilty look. “Tony, I don’t think I'll be able to help you. I don’t remember much, but I do remember them using me to beat the shit out of that kid. He heals from just about anything and I was used as punishment when he wouldn’t do what they wanted. He’d been there maybe 6 months by the time I managed to get away. Anytime they wanted to put him in the chair, they had me beat him within an inch of his life.”

Tony stares at Barnes thoughtfully. If that's the case, then introducing Barnes to Phantom (ugh it's better to just call him ‘the kid’) will be a horrible decision. God, everyone on this team needs therapy.

Except maybe Sam.

And Vision. 

And maybe Rhodey.

Who is he kidding, everyone on the team needs therapy.

“I'm not telling you to go into his room and interrogate the kid, Barnes. I'm asking you what I can do to help this broken and brainwashed kid that's not even fully human.” Tony gestures from the ex-assassin to where the hologram used to be. “From a previously broken and brainwashed person to another. I need suggestions that I can use to help earn his trust so he can get better.”

That seems to surprise Barnes, probably because Tony has never asked for his help before. They usually avoid each other like the plague. 

Tony sees the surprise and shrinks in his chair just a little. He turns and rests an arm on his table. Fiddling with a few metal pieces strewn around, he avoids Barnes’ questioning look. 

“I know we haven't gotten on the best of terms and I know it's not your fault. What happened in Siberia never should have happened. A lot of anger and secrets were thrown around and none of it was your fault. It was equally Steve’s and mine. We both made mistakes.” He runs a hand through his hair, messing up the perfectly styled locks. 

“The two of us have too much pride, and so we walk around on eggshells while trying not to step on each other's toes. I should have talked about this sooner with you, but you run away from me everytime we’re in the same room together and I just didn’t want to bring up something so painful.” Tony drops the piece he’s playing with and turns to look at the ex-assassin. “You went through a lot of pain with Hydra. You had to go through so much on your own just to remember a small part of your past. I’m sorry about what happened that day.”

This appears to completely blindside Barnes. He clearly never thought something like this would happen. Clearly didn’t think he deserved an apology. “I thought you hated me and were just doing this because King T’Challa asked,” Barnes says. “I didn’t want to bring up any bad memories, so I just stayed out of your way. I know things are still a little tense between the teams and I didn’t want to make it worse.”

“Well, gee. Now I feel even worse for not talking to you sooner,” Tony says with a small chuckle. “Nah. Don’t worry about it. If anyone is gonna make things worse, it's probably going to be me. Don’t worry about it, really. Pepper and Rhodey know how to make sure I don’t put my foot in my mouth.”

When Tony doesn’t get a response, he pulls up the hologram again. “Now, how do I help this kid so he doesn’t have to go through the deprogramming alone?”

[thisisnalkan]

What if Harry Dubois had the Cultlist Sim Aspects in his mind?

Cooking up a Cultist Sim x Disco Elysium Fanfiction that involves the aspects of Cultist Sim rattling around in Harry's mind. Here's how I plan on writing/characterizing each of the aspects.

Heart [Challenging: Success] - You walk down the street with a pep in your step. Your heart is beating. It feels good to be alive.

Heart would encourage Harry to have fun in the non drug fueled ecstasy way. Dance, skip, feel alive. Heart would also be steadfast in it's resolve against, persevering you even when the right move is to give up and come back.

Grail [Formidable: Success] - Tis alright, but thy are craving more. This... commoner shit won't do anymore. Thy needs real stimulation.

All the worst parts of Pain Tolerance mixed in with Electrochemistry? Grail is the pleasure seeker of... exotic flavors. It understands high class vices, none of this lower class speed in an alley way that other skills(Electrochemistry) suggest.

Moth [Medium: Success] - The light of the watchman twinkles in the night sky. Their lights guide your way. Perhaps they may guide you farther than you think.

In-between Inland Empire and Shivers. Moth makes more esoteric / occult connections than Inland Empire, but both work in tandem often. They both start long monologues together.

Lantern [Legendary: Success] - You feel a presence behind you. The large mirror on the wall. Look at it now.

Lantern is a light in the brain. A guiding force in the dark. Lantern picks up higher order thought from the Pale and the Universe at large.

Forge [Godly: Success] - THE LIGHT OF THE CRUCIBLE BURNS BRIGHT. YOU CRACK YOUR HANDS AS YOU OPEN THE STONE WALL.

Forge is creation, and destruction. Forge is the power to tear down a wall, to build something, to shape the world around you. Forge let's you leave your mark on the world.

Edge [Medium: Success] - This man in an honorable warrior. He has chosen the endless war rather than surrender. He is worthy to be in your presence.

Edge is Marshall prowess. Swords, knives, guns, all the expertise of Edge. It demands the utmost of honor from Harry and from others. Would adore the Deserter and Rene to a lesser extent.

Winter [Challenging: Success] - The soft sprinkling of snow flakes against your skin. You inhale chill winter air, and let the sensation of pain and anger pass through you. And then, there is silence.

Winter is reverse Volition. Instead of trying to change, Winter is about accepting the way things are now. It is letting all emotion pass through you and deciding that sometimes, things must come to an end.

Knock [Formidable: Success] - And with a click, the padlock falls away. The purpose of the door has been fulfilled. You are in.

Knock is about opening things up. It is not just locksmithing in the tradition sense, it’s also the ability to open up people and get them to talk. Knock is the human can opener mixed with regular can opener