#when wishing for full health he says something like 'heal me would you?'

[dailycupofcreativitea]

I know Cell has a bit of Vegeta in him but I don't think he'd be too proud to ask for help 😂

Based on my word vomit in a discord chat:

[heliads]

want you, need you - minho

Ever since you became a Med-Jack, Minho can't seem to stop collecting random injuries that absolutely require your attention. You might be catching on.

masterlist

The Med-Jack hut is either overwhelmingly busy or frustratingly slow, no in between. There are days when every single room in the place is crammed full of patients– somehow, every Slicer manages to cut themselves, and every Builder breaks a bone– and you wish you had picked any other job than this one. The busy days are rough. You start wondering what might happen if you stopped being able to put people back together as quickly as they fall apart. You think about the endless cycle of injury and healing until everyone wears out entirely, a map of bandages and skin pressed thin like dead leaves.

Those are the hopeless days. Then, you’ll have a dry spell, when everyone manages to get their stuff together and no one complains of sprained ankles or excessive sunburns. At that point, you start twiddling your thumbs and mindlessly organizing and reorganizing the medical supplies. By the end, you almost start wishing people would get hurt just so you’d have something to do. It’s an uncharitable thought, certainly, and one you regret once you’re stuck in the middle of another hurricane of aching Gladers, but when there’s nothing else to do, it comes nonetheless.

You’ve found yourself in the middle of another boring week. For the past few days, the Slicers have remembered how to hold their knives so they chop the animals and not themselves, the Builders hit their nails with their hammers instead of their thumbs, and the Runners don’t give themselves cramps and stay in perfect health.

Well. Not every Runner.

Even during the most boring stretches of your admittedly short career as a Med-Jack, you can guarantee that you’ll have one specific patient. Just like clockwork, every few days a certain dark-haired, teasing someone shadows your door, complaining of overworked tendons, pulled hamstrings, heatstroke, and every other medical condition under the sun. If Minho can think it up, he’ll say he’s got it.

It’s honestly becoming ridiculous. For someone who’s such a capable Runner, it is truly remarkable that he survives so many ailments. One would think he would give up running entirely if it gave him this much grief. Yet every day, Minho sets out for the Maze with a cheerful disposition, and at least two times a week, he appears in the Med-Jack hut, sporting some new injury that materialized at some point during the day.

So, when you look up from labeling the medicine cabinet for what must be the dozenth time this month, and realize that you haven’t seen the Keeper of the Runners in a few days, you know that it’s about time for him to come down with the flu, a severe migraine, or maybe both at once.

True to form, you’ve barely finished going through the medications on one shelf of the cabinet when Jeff, one of your fellow Med-Jacks, comes into the room. “You have a patient,” he says impatiently. “Guess who?”

You roll your eyes, although you can’t help a small smile. “Can’t you handle Minho yourself?”

Jeff gives you a look. “I tried. He told me he wanted to wait for a professional. Figures.”

You snort. “You’ve been here longer than I have.”

“I told him that,” Jeff complains. “This might surprise you, but he didn’t care.”

“Tell him again,” you say, turning back to the pill bottle you’re labeling. “I’m busy.”

Jeff heaves a dramatic sigh. “I’m not wasting my time with that. He’s your problem, go fix him.”

You shoot him a confused glance. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You know exactly what it means,” Jeff retorts, reaching over to grab the bottle out of your hands. “Ever since you started here, Minho randomly comes over all the time. You know he used to hate visiting the Med-Jacks before you arrived? Now he can’t stop showing up.”

“That doesn’t mean anything,” you protest weakly.

Jeff sighs again, so deeply you swat him on the shoulder. “That’s klunk and we both know it. The data doesn’t lie, Y/N.”

“There’s no data,” you argue, but Jeff’s already waving you out of the room. 

You make a face at him, then go down the hall until you find Minho waiting in one of the smaller rooms meant for patients. He’s poking at some supplies on a small table in a corner of the room, but he straightens up excitedly when he sees you.

“Doc! I’m so glad you’re here.”

You fight the urge to roll your eyes. “What have you done to yourself now, Minho?”

“That’s no way to treat a patient,” Minho frowns exaggeratedly. “Whatever happened to bedside manner?”

“You got bedside manner the first ten times you showed up for no reason,” you tell him pointedly. “After that, you get whatever I feel like. You should be happy I’m still giving you bandages. We only have so many, you know that? Maybe I’ll start charging you a fee.”

“I can pay,” Minho says lazily, leaning forward so you can feel his breath hot on the side of your face. One of his hands starts to curl around your side, pulling you closer to him.

Dangerous, he is. You idly push him away with your palm, pretending to examine the supplies he’d been poking at earlier so you have time for the heat to leave your face. “How about you just tell me what’s wrong with you this time?”

Minho sighs dramatically. “Well, since you care so much, I’ll have to tell you that I’ve broken an ankle. It hurts so bad. This might be it for me, Y/N.”

You arch a brow. “Which ankle?”

He pauses a moment, thinking. “Left.”

“You’re standing on it just fine right now,” you point out.

Immediately, Minho shifts all of his weight onto his right leg, grabbing the back of a nearby chair for support. “No, I’m not. Look, I can’t bear the pain. It hurts.”

You just look at him. Minho looks back at you, unable to stop the corners of his lips from curling up into a proud half-smile. “Do you really expect me to believe that?” You ask.

He gasps. “Y/N. Are you trying to discredit your own patients? Some Med-Jack you are. I bet Clint would trust me.”

“Then go talk to Clint,” you say, making for the door.

Minho hurries over, flinging out an arm to close the door before you can open it. “Wait, wait. I didn’t mean it, sweetheart. You’re the only Med-Jack for me, I swear it. Clint is nothing to me.”

You take an obvious glance towards his feet. “That ankle sure seems to be healing fast, huh? You moved over here like it was nothing.”

Minho leans his back against the door. “Alright, you got me. Nothing’s wrong with the ankle. Still, my lungs have been feeling exhausted lately, that might be something–”

“That’s because you run everywhere,” you say, grinning in spite of yourself at his antics. “Come on, Minho, you’ll have to get a better excuse someday.”

“My bad for wanting to see you,” he returns. “I feel like I haven’t talked to you in forever. I miss you,” he adds a little quietly.

It makes you smile in earnest this time. “So you’re here to be a good friend, then.”

“Yeah,” Minho says, and you might be kidding yourself but you swear he sounds almost disappointed, “A good friend. That’s me.”

You tap him gently on the arm to get him to move from the door. “How about I promise to find you straight after my shift ends, and you agree to leave without using any more of my medical supplies? Jeff’s going to kill you if we run through anymore bandages, I swear it.”

Minho pretends to think this over. “Straight after? You promise?”

“I promise,” you repeat. “So? Do we have a deal?”

“We do,” he intones solemnly, and at last lets you open the door and usher him out, but only after extracting one more promise that you won’t delay to talk to Newt or anyone else once Jeff lets you out.

When you get back to the storage room, you find Jeff waiting for you, grinning knowingly from ear to ear. It bothers you for some reason, not the fact that he’s on this topic again but worse, the thought that he might not be entirely wrong for it.

“Wipe that look off your face,” you mutter.

Jeff’s grin just broadens. “How was your star patient?”

“Fantastic,” you assure him, “And I’d be fantastic too, if you could stop bothering me with whatever weird thing you’re thinking about right now.”

Jeff shrugs exaggeratedly. “Of course. I don’t know why anyone would think about Minho being unable to go three days without talking to you. That would be crazy.”

“It would be,” you add darkly. People in the Glade have said that you have a tendency for killer death stares. However, Jeff seems to be impervious to it, because he just keeps sitting there, proud as anything, as if he were in the right about this.

As if. This isn’t the first time your friends have tried to suggest there’s something going on between you and Minho, and the honest truth is that nothing has happened at all. Yeah, Minho’s your best friend, and yeah, your days are significantly better when you see as much of him as possible. What about it? It doesn’t mean a thing. Life is hard. If you want to talk to the boy who makes you laugh like no one else, you should be able to do it in peace.

You can’t deny that the rumors stay on your mind, and recently, you haven’t been able to deny them with as much conviction as usual. You’re not blind, Minho is good-looking, and maybe you start thinking about something past friendship when he makes another excuse to get in your personal space when you’re sitting together by the fire or walking through the Glade. 

You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t thought about it before, but as good as it might be to have Minho in every way that matters, you’ll still be perfectly happy with just the one. You can’t risk your friendship, even if, two drinks of Gally’s brew into a Bonfire Night, you start thinking about what it would be like to kiss him, or worse still, when Minho drops by the Med-Jack hut again, you convince yourself that maybe he’s not just doing it because he’s a good friend but because he wants you just like you want him.

It can’t be, though. For one thing, Minho is notoriously confident. If he liked you, he would have told you by now. You’ve seen him argue with Gally for the fun of it, not to mention the fact that he chose to be a Runner of all things. Minho lives on a constant adrenaline rush. Compared to what he does on a daily basis, confessing his feelings has to be nothing major. If he wanted to tell you, he would, and he hasn’t, so obviously there isn’t anything to tell at all.

For another, and this might just be in your own head, but Minho is so brave and capable that he seems to eclipse everything around him. Maybe it’s just the force of your own perspective, but you swear the entire Glade orbits around him. When he gets back from a run, he’s immediately swarmed by Gladers asking him about how it was, if he saw anything important. He’s always the first person people talk to, the immediate choice for a dinnertime companion. Minho could have anything he wanted in the Glade. So why would he want you?

You’ve managed to force the whole thing from your mind as best you can. Minho is your friend. At least you can have him like that, even if it kills you sometimes to look at him and imagine all the ways you would love him if he would just give you the chance. Any good medic can keep their feelings internal when they need it, and you’re the best there is.

You meet Minho later that night as promised, and you do your utmost to pretend everything is normal. You stay with him until the sun sinks below the horizon, until the Doors slam shut, until the moon begins its familiar path across the sky. You talk the whole while, idle chatter that occasionally drifts off into comfortable quiet. You’ve never been able to do that with anyone before, feel so at ease that you can stay silent for minutes at a time and have it not be awkward, but with Minho, it’s so simple. Then again, you can hardly remember anyone at all. Maybe there was someone in the past who mattered to you just as much as Minho does now. Even without your memories, though, that feels impossible. Minho could have no substitute, not to you.

You’re expecting the next day to pass in a breeze of idle hours, but around midafternoon, your dreary day of organization and the occasional bad paper cut is harshly interrupted by the sound of chaos outside. There’s shouting for a Med-Jack, and then several people are rushing someone in. It’s a Runner, apparently, you hear the details as you run for supplies. The Maze started moving during the day and he got hurt.

You can tell from the way people start nervously looking at you that it’s bad. At first, they don’t say any names, but then you burst into the chamber that serves as your operating room and you know that it’s worse than you could have possibly imagined, for not only does it seem like there’s enough blood to drench the Glade, but the victim isn’t Ben or one of the other Runners, it’s Minho. Your Minho. Your Minho, bleeding out on your table, who will need you to save him.

You stand there for one fragile moment, drenched in horror, then spring into action. Clint and Jeff have surfaced by now, and you direct them to anesthetize Minho. You want him to feel as little of this as possible. After carefully cutting open his shirt to determine the source of all that awful blood, you determine that it’s not as bad as you thought, more of a broad surface wound than a deep puncture. That much blood loss is dangerous, though, and he’ll need several stitches to close the flesh.

About an hour and a half later, you’re done. You and the other Med-Jacks lean back, panting heavily. Your hands and clothes are smeared with red, but color has crept back into Minho’s cheeks, and he’s starting to breathe evenly again.

“How long until he wakes up?” You ask Clint.

He checks a nearby clock, then Minho’s pulse. “Fifteen minutes, probably, but he won’t be fully conscious for up to an hour.”

You nod. “That’s good. Clear out, you guys. Get some rest.”

Jeff stops by you on the way out. “You can stay with him if you want. He’d be glad to see you when he wakes up.”

You let out a slow breath. “Thanks, Jeff.”

He pats you on the back then leaves to wash up. You spare the time to scrub your hands and get on a fresh change of clothes, but head back to Minho as soon as you can. Ben was with him when the accident happened, he said that everything happened so fast he hardly knew what went down. You don’t want Minho to wake up alone and confused, covered in bandages and unable to shake the scent of blood.

Once the immediate danger is over, you’re left sitting in a chair by Minho’s cot. His chest is swathed in bandages, but no red has flowered through them yet, which is a good sign. As you watch, the fingers on his right hand start to twitch. Clint said he would start to stir around now, and you’re glad to see the signs of movement. Watching him there– so still, so motionless– it made you wonder if he would wake up. It made you wonder if there was any way you could survive if he didn’t.

Minho is starting to make small sounds of distress under his breath, so you lean over and take his hand, squeezing it carefully but comfortingly. “Hey, hey. It’s me. You’re safe.”

You hear the ghost of your name in his whisper, and then Minho starts to quiet down again, restless rustles turning back into quiet breathing. You check his heart rate with your free hand and are glad to see it returning to normal, shaking off the lethargy of the anesthesia.

Minho sleeps for a little longer. Afraid to upset him, you keep your hand in his. You can tell when he wakes again, because his fingers start to press against yours. Consciousness comes upon him like a wave beating upon the shore. All of a sudden, his eyes are blinking open, and then he’s trying to sit up too fast and is forced back down to the cot by a bout of dizziness.

“Easy,” you tell him, pressing him back. “Don’t try to sit yet. The meds aren’t out of your system.”

“Y/N?” Minho asks, voice hoarse.

Hearing the scratchiness of his voice, so totally removed from the usual confident cadence of his words, makes your throat close up. “Yeah, it’s me. I’m here.”

“Hey, Doc,” he says roughly. “Jeff won’t give me klunk about the bandages now, will he?”

“No, he won’t,” you say, torn between laughter and outright sobs. “How do you feel? Any pain?”

“All good,” Minho tells you. “What about Ben? Is he okay?”

“Ben is fine,” you assure him. “You’re the one we’re worried about, Minho. I knew the Maze was dangerous, but like this–”

He cuts you off, squeezing your hand. “Hey, all in a day’s work. I knew the risks when I went in.”

You shake your head, hot tears starting to well up in your eyes. “No, no. This isn’t fair. You’re not supposed to get hurt during the day. Minho, I didn’t even know anything happened, and then they brought you in, and there was so much blood– I thought I was going to lose you, and I didn’t even get to tell you–”

Even in the midst of your tears, you have the presence of mind to stop yourself before you give yourself away. It’s just– the thought had not abandoned you the whole time he slept, even the whole time you operated, that you could lose him without ever having him at all.

Minho shakes his head as best he can. “I’m okay, sweetheart. I’m okay.”

“But you almost weren’t,” you whisper. “What if Ben hadn’t been able to get you back in time?”

You take a ragged breath, trying to keep the tears at bay, but it’s no use. Your shoulders shake, and Minho leans up slightly, as if drawn to it. To you.

“You’re pretty even when you cry,” Minho says, one hand weakly rising up to brush a tear from your cheek. “How is that fair?”

You laugh haltingly, in between the tears. “Barely awake five minutes, and you’re already flirting.”

He grins. “It’s all I want to do.”

If this were any other day, you would be able to brush off that comment, but something about this moment, this space– no one else in the room, Minho’s palm still tenderly cradling your cheek, your heart still erratic from the stress– you can’t help but turn the words over and over in your mind. All I want to do. All I want to do.

“Minho–” You start.

“Shh,” he says. “You already know that. Don’t tell me you haven’t seen through it. My smart girl. All those times I came to see you. Don’t say you haven’t realized.”

“Minho–”

“Newt says I’m being stupid. That I shouldn’t keep trying to have something that isn’t mine. But I’ll tell you something, Y/N, I’m selfish, and I’m greedy. I want you, and I don’t want to think about you with anyone else but me.”

Your breath is harsh in your chest, heart beating so loud you’re certain they must hear it echoing all across the Glade.

Minho’s eyes are fixed directly on yours. He sits up carefully, enough to reach his other hand up past your waist to the small of your back. “Tell me you don’t want me, or I’m not going to stop trying to keep you. Tell me to stop.”

Your lips part as you try to form an answer. Minho’s eyes dart down to the movement, and they only rise to your gaze with great reluctance. “I don’t want you to stop,” you tell him at last. “I want you, Minho. Only you.”

Two years now, you’ve known Minho. You’ve seen him proud and defiant, laughing and joyous and as happy as anyone could hope to be. Still, you don’t think you’ve ever seen him smile as brightly as he does right now, right before he kisses you.

Every touch is electric, and this is the most powerful of all. Your mind is reeling from the moment your lips meet, sending you far beyond the reaches of the Maze to the sky itself. You could be floating forever if you wanted, and you only start to gradually come back to earth when he slowly breaks away.

“Minho,” you say, hesitating over every syllable.

“Y/N,” he mimics, lips turned up in an irrepressible smile.

“They’re going to want to know that you’re awake. I promised I’d get the others,” you tell him.

He considers this for a moment. “They don’t need to know immediately, do they?”

You smile. “No.”

Minho’s eyes glint. “Then kiss me again. You can tell them after.”

It seems like a fair deal to you. You kiss him to make sure of it.

maze runner tag list: @blondsauduun, @ellobruv, @retvenkos, @neewtmas, @mayfieldss,

@hiya-itsamber, @gods-fools-heroes, @hope92100, @23victoria, @w1shes43, @imwaysthelastchoice, @fadedver, @il0vebeingdelulu

all tags list:

@wordsarelife

[babyblue711]

Redemption

Will (Salad Days) x Reader - Part 2 Read Part 1 Here Summary: You and Will reconnect after spending some years apart and learn that each of you has gone through their own difficult circumstances in that time. Your friendship develops into something more as you help each other heal from the past.  Words: 7.2K

Warnings: NSFW, language, sexual content (18+), mild BDSM, miscarriage, prison, divorce, alcohol, infidelity, mention of death A/N: I am absolutely overwhelmed by the response to Part 1. Thank you all so so much. My heart has never been so happy reading your comments. Things get steamy here, it was my favorite part to write - I hope you all enjoy! Thank you to my beta readers @megatardisbaby and @arcielee; And thank you to @myfandomprompts for making those incredible gifs for me. Dividers by @firefly-graphic Distance, inches in between us I want you to give in I want you to give in Weakness, tension in between us I just wanna give in And I don't care if I'm forgiven - "Shameless" by Camila Cabello

A Couple Months Later

Late summer is in full swing and you are the happiest you can remember being in a very long time. Your mental state has greatly improved. Although you still had plenty of dark days and hard nights, they no longer held you captive as they once did. You didn’t feel as crushed by your grief anymore and had begun to feel hopeful again, waking up and looking forward to the day.  

You still hadn’t defined your relationship with Will yet, worried about messing up your dynamic. Although you very much acted like a couple since you spoke every day and saw each other almost every weekend, sharing a few more sweet kisses and intimate make-out sessions. You could tell Will wanted to take things further, but it was important to you to take it slow and he respected your wishes. You were finding it more and more difficult to hold yourself back though, with a fire that ignited in your chest and desire pounded through your blood anytime he was near. 

A pivotal moment came when he invited you over to his house to have tea with his Nan. Observing him doting on his aging grandmother was a testament to his kindness and compassion and it melted your heart. Despite the decline in her physical health, her mind and spirit remained undimmed, a fierce flame that illuminated the room; engaging with her had always been a delight, her wit sharp and her laughter infectious. You felt so comfortable sitting in their tiny kitchen, sharing a cup of tea together while listening to her tell stories of the past. With her, it felt like “home”. 

Before you departed his house that day, his Nan pulled you to the side, gripping both of your hands with her wizened ones and looked up at you with watery eyes. 

“Now you be sure to always take care of my boy as I know he will take care of you,” she said when Will was out of earshot, a small tremor to her voice. 

The weight of her words carried an unspoken gravity, a plea for your unwavering care. Your throat felt tight. What would become of Will once his beloved Nan departed this world? Your heart constricted with worry as you felt he had suffered so much already, but you knew this day would inevitably come. 

In response to her heartfelt plea, you squeezed her hands in return, smiling warmly, and vowed that you always would care for him too. The weight of that promise settled upon your shoulders, but you didn’t feel burdened by her request. You wanted to be there for him the same way he was there for you. The commitment of your pledge resonated deep within your soul, but your heart had never felt so full as you made your way back home.

It’s a beautiful day in mid August and you are back in the city for work, when you glance down at your phone and see a text from Will:

[Will]: Hey, fancy grabbin’ a pint at the pub in a bit? Drinks on me.

You smile as you reply.

 [Y/N]: Sure, looking forward to it - let’s say around 7pm and maybe we can make Happy Hour? 

Summer was quickly fading into autumn and you were eager to catch the last of the warm summer sun. You text your parents quickly that you would be home late and not to expect you for dinner, then gather your things and leave for the pub.

Your phone buzzes as you approach. 

[Will]: I’m back in the pub garden. 

As you make your way through the crowd towards him, you can’t help but admire just how good he looks in this moment. He’s trimmed his hair a bit and combed it back, the summer sun adding a few copper highlights to his usual light brown. His freckles stand out on his tanned, toned arms. He’s chosen another white t-shirt today with black jeans and black Adidas trainers, while you had taken advantage of the last days of warm weather to wear a cute sundress, navy with small vertical white stripes, buttoning down the front and tied at the waist with a cute little sash. 

He’s relaxing in his chair with ease, something about his posture is mature and confident. It suits him so well and you can’t help but smile to yourself, pleased to have known the boy that this man has grown into. He already has a half-finished pint in front of him, his phone occupying his attention. He takes a drag from his cigarette as you approach. 

His eyes light up when he sees you. “Took you long enough,” he says and playfully blows the smoke in your direction. Having never been much of a smoker, he knew that you hated it. Amused but slightly irritated, you arch an eyebrow at him and give him a sharp look, which soon dissipates as he leans in and gives you a kiss on the cheek, a smug smirk lifting the corner of his lips. Between the warmth of his lips on your cheek and his scent washing over you, smokey with the hint of his masculine shampoo, you couldn’t find it within yourself to be mad at him. 

You cough a little for emphasis of your feigned irritation, “Thanks, you fuckin’ wanker, now where’s the pint I was promised?” You try your best to sound stern but you know he sees right through you. He continues to smirk at you, amused, then turns to go to the bar to get your drink. 

You sit down and take in your surroundings. The seating arrangements are thoughtfully organized, with long communal tables and cozy nooks tucked away amidst lush greenery. Wooden benches and wrought-iron chairs invite guests to settle in while soft lighting from twinkling string lights adds an enchanting ambiance as day transitions into night.

Sun-kissed faces dot the outdoor seating area, as the other patrons try to catch a breeze in the shade, sipping on chilled beverages and enjoying idle chatter. You turn to see Will approaching with your drink and another for him in his hands. His eyes are on your tanned legs and you were glad you had chosen a light cotton sundress to wear that day.

Several hours later, darkness has fallen and several rounds of drinks have been enjoyed, laughter echoing through the air. A game of pool had turned into a friendly competition between you and Will. 

You both had flirted incessantly with each other the whole night. As he showed you the proper way to hold a pool stick, you couldn’t help but notice his body heat radiate off of him, a tingling at the bottom of your spine at his proximity. When he leans over you and adjusts your grip on the pool stick, you give a small wiggle underneath him and he immediately notices. Leaning in close, he whispers “behave” into your ear while a long fingered hand squeezes your hip. Feeling sassy, you side-eye smirk at him, letting him know you absolutely did it on purpose and catching his shy, smug smile in return.

As the final ball sinks into the pocket, punctuating the end of the game, a triumphant smile spreads across your face and you declare yourself the winner. 

“Taught you too well I guess,” Will teases, crossing his arms. “Or maybe I just let you win.”

“Oh, don’t be a sore loser,” you say playfully back as you nudge him in the ribs just for good measure. “I won fair and square!” You giggle and lean into him, the alcohol making you feel a little giddy. As you look up at him, you notice the way the string lights create a halo effect around his head; he looks like an angel fallen from heaven and you have to catch your breath for a moment. 

He smiles down at you and hums in amusement, rubbing your bare arms from the chilly air now that the sun has set. You can’t help but feel a sense of satisfaction and contentment, safe in his arms, and you wanted him to know it. 

“Thank you for the drinks and good company tonight,” you say sweetly. “I had a lot of fun.”

He seems pleased, his eyes warm. “Me too. Are you sure you didn’t just meet me here to pay for the drinks?” he banters, smiling. 

“I bought the third round!” you exclaim in mock outrage, hitting his arm in jest. 

He chuckles, surprising you with a quick kiss on the lips. The small gesture lights a fire in your belly; you can practically feel the heat of his gaze burning right through you. 

You gather your things and he takes your hand as you make your way out of the bar, both of you feeling as if you didn’t want the night to end. You don’t want to let go of his hand. 

Once outside, he hesitates a little, “You know, Nan and I live right over the way, it’s a short walk from here. Given the hour, would you want to come and stay?” You consider him for a moment; it was later than you intended and you aren’t looking forward to taking public transportation back home alone at this hour. 

“Are you sure we won’t be bothering your Nan?” you ask in a hushed tone. 

“Nah, not at all. I have the whole downstairs to myself since Nan lives upstairs. She’s a sound sleeper, won’t hear us at all,” he reassures you. 

You look up into his pleading puppy dog eyes and agree to go home with him, never having been able to turn down those eyes. Will lights another cigarette as he walks you home, burning end in one hand, the other placed on the small of your back, guiding you home. You swear you can feel an electric current thrum between the two of you as you walk side by side in a comfortable silence.

A short while later, you arrive at his doorstep; he unlocks the door and steps back to let you in. The threshold reveals a small landing, offering a choice of stairs that split in opposite directions. To the right, the stairs ascend to the upper level and to the left, they descend to the basement. 

“Do you mind if I check on Nan real fast? Since it’s late, she probably won’t be in the visiting mood, if she’s still up. I’ll be downstairs in a minute,” Will says.

“Of course,” you say easily, as you wouldn’t want to be disturbed by visitors at this hour either. You wander downstairs and flip on a light, the soft glow of the lamp illuminating his space, tidier than you would have thought for a guy. A black leather sofa sits up against the wall, furnished with squashy grey pillows, opposite a big, flat screen TV. Trinkets and old photos adorn the bookshelf in the corner of the room. There’s a door to the left to what you are assuming is his bedroom. You sit on the sofa and make yourself comfortable while you wait. 

Within a few moments, you hear footsteps on the stairs and Will reappears carrying two glasses of water for you both. “Nan’s fast asleep, didn’t even hear us come in,” he says. “Thought you might need some of this,” he gestures to the water. You accept your glass gratefully and take a few sips, the ice cool on your tongue.

Emptying his pockets onto the coffee table and kicking off his shoes, Will plops down on the couch next to you and makes himself at home. You follow suit by removing your sandals, still feeling a little chilly from the cool nighttime air. He notices you shivering slightly and gets up, heading into his room to get you a hoodie of his to put on. 

You can hear him rummaging around to find you something acceptable to wear. You sip your water, eyes glancing to the bookshelf in the corner. Framed ornately in gold, the largest photo catches your eye and you can tell, even from a distance, it is probably the last recent photo Will has of his mum and dad. You wander over for a closer look, studying their happy faces, smiling at how much Will resembles his mum.

“Think this’ll do?” he says suddenly from behind you and you turn to see him holding up a grey hoodie; you are fairly certain it is the same one he always wore when you were in school together.

“Yeah, that’ll do, thank you,” you say, reaching for it. He moves closer, noticing the photograph that must have caught your attention.

With a deep sigh, he stares at the photograph for a moment before turning his eyes on you. Without saying anything, he cups your face in one large hand, staring intently into your eyes. You gaze back steadily, worried that you had upset him by looking at this photograph, afraid to have accidently brought up the past. For a moment, you both breathe in unison together, you inhale his exhale and he, yours. Finally, he leans down and kisses you. 

The kiss starts out slowly but quickly becomes heated. At last, you think to yourself with a sigh. You didn’t come home with Will with the intention of hooking up with him; you were pleased at his generosity to invite you to stay the night rather than traveling home alone by yourself. But, now that you were getting lost in his kiss, you didn’t know how you were going to stop, reveling in the feeling of his lips and the taste of his tongue on yours. 

You suck his bottom lip into your mouth, pulling on it slightly before giving him your bottom lip to suck on in return. You gently slide your tongue along his lower lip, enjoying the smoothness of the kiss as he languidly pushes his tongue into your mouth. He slides his tongue over yours and you do the same back to him. After another moment or two of blissful oblivion, he pulls back, looking down at you with hooded eyes. 

Desire stirs in his blown pupils and you are certain he can see the fire reflected in yours as the savage storm inside of you threatens to spill over from your carefully maintained control. You have tried to be good...have tried to give your heart time to mend before going any further, but tasting his kiss was slowly breaking your resolve. 

Setting his forgotten hoodie down on a nearby armchair, he leads you by the hand towards the leather sofa, pulling you onto his lap to straddle him. His head tilts on the back of the couch as he watches you settle yourself in his lap, your dress riding up on your thighs. Staring into his fathomless blue eyes, you find yourself getting lost, sinking to the bottom of those ocean-blue depths. 

Time seems to slow down. Your fingertips caress his face lightly, over his cheekbone and down his sharp jaw, ghosting over his perfect lips, tracing their shape, and reaching up to run your fingers through his hair, tugging a bit at the back. His large, warm hands rest on your hips, squeezing lightly. You watch his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows; his breathing steady, he seems content to watch you while you stroke his face. 

Your eyes flicker back to his and you both simultaneously resume your kiss; you trail kisses along his jawline towards his right ear, purposefully tickling it lightly with your breath. He shifts slightly under you, fingers tangling in your hair, and he huskily whispers in your ear, “Tell me how you like it.”

Those simple words ignite the fire in your chest. You chuckle softly while unbidden, dark thoughts race through your mind. Oh…you knew perfectly well what you wanted him to do. The deepest part of your subconscious mind ferally roars to be let out of her cage. Your heartbeat picks up as you momentarily remember what it feels like to be alive again and your hunger for him quickly begins to overpower any common sense you still possess. 

Slow down, don’t move so fast, your inner voice whispers to you, echoing in a distant chamber of your empty brain.  

You pause, pretending to contemplate his question as you lick the outer edge of his ear, needing to taste his skin. You press your body close to his, absolutely sure he can feel your heartbeat thunder in your chest. 

Ignoring your inner warning completely, you whisper into his ear in turn, “I want you to hurt me.” The words escape your lips before you have a second chance to think about it. You bite down on his neck, not enough to hurt but definitely enough to get his attention by emphasizing your meaning.

He jumps a little at the unexpected pain and sucks in a breath. “Hurt you?” He pulls away, his blue eyes searching yours, a slight frown creasing between his eyebrows. You knew it was not in his nature to be rough with a woman and what you were asking was probably pushing his limit.

“Please, Will?” you beg sweetly, not wanting to completely scare him at this point. 

Your mental sanity was slipping but you knew he could help you, you just had to show him how. How could you tell him that, by wrapping his long fingers around your throat and squeezing, you could finally have clarity again? How do you explain to him that you want to see bite marks and bruises on your skin without sounding like a total psycho? That, by giving yourself completely to him, when he has total control over you, releases your anxiety and frees your mind? You are sick of the mental anguish, the voices in your head, always at war with yourself, always trying to do the right thing, the pain of your past always simmering just below your surface. All you wanted was for it all to stop. Just for a moment. 

He regards you intently, his tongue darting out, moistening his bottom lip as you see his decision form in his eyes. “Are you sure you want me to do this?” he asks quietly as he studies your face. His change of tone is subtle but you immediately pick up on it. He’s turning the tables like he’s the one asking for permission now. 

“I’m sure,” you breathe, voice barely above a whisper. “Do your worst,” you challenge. “But I gotta warn you, I may bite and scratch a little,” you tell him seductively.

He smirks. “Good, because you’ll crawl and beg too,” he promises ominously, his gaze darkening so his eyes almost look black in the low light as his face hardens. “Well, well, well, who knew you had this side to you, Y/N?” he purrs at you, voice low and deep.

Considering just how quickly he acquiesced, you silently find yourself thinking the same thing about him. You didn’t expect this side of Will, but the sultry tone of his voice has your heartbeat racing, longing to know more of what he could do to you.

His hands roam over your body, up from your hips, over your ribcage and back down your spine, moving lower to grab a chunk of your ass and squeeze. Lifting you suddenly by your ass, he suddenly flips you over, so that he’s on top of you on the couch. Propping himself up on his elbows, he kisses you deeply, his tongue moving over yours as he dominates your mouth. You feel his length stiffen against your core and you can’t help but grind your hips into his, seeking friction, moaning involuntarily at the way he is consuming you. Moving from your mouth down your body, he places hot, open-mouth kisses and sharp bites to the delicate skin of your neck and collarbone.  

Hindered by your cotton sundress, he reaches for the buttons that lace the front, undoing them slowly, kissing and sucking every inch of new skin that he exposes. He unties the sash at your waist, continuing lower as you run your fingers through his hair, squirming underneath him.

Suddenly, he stops and sits up. “I have an idea,” he says as he finishes the last button on your dress, laying it open, exposing your matching bra and lace panties to him. His eyes roam over your curves, dark with longing. “And I’ll need the sash on your dress,” he adds. 

He rises from the couch to allow you room to remove the sash from your dress and you wonder what’s coming next. He moves to the coffee table where he had dropped all his things earlier and you notice him picking up his lighter. Eyeing him apprehensively, you think to yourself "what the hell?”

“Will…are you sure we won’t get caught?” you ask, feeling like a teenager all over again hooking up in your parents’ basement while trying not to make any noise.

“Nah, Nan doesn’t do stairs well anymore,” Will shrugs, unconcerned. You hand him the sash from your dress.

“One more thing,” he says as he cleverly unhooks your bra with one hand. “Good, now lay back down,” his tone leaves no room for argument. 

Obediently, you do as you’re told, shivering slightly as your bare skin rests on the cool leather of the couch. You feel open and exposed as you watch him drink in the sight of your appearance, his eyes lingering on your breasts. Being topless on his couch where anyone could see suddenly feels so erotic. Your breathing picks up speed as you realize he intends to blindfold you with your sash and you decide to play along. Once it’s secure, he kisses your lips lightly, abruptly biting down on your bottom lip. You gasp in surprise, pleasure coursing through your body at the unexpected pain. 

“Remember, you asked for this,” he growls into your ear.

Straining your other senses, you feel him move away from you for a moment, hearing the sound of clinking ice. “Now, don’t scream and stay still,” he says in a low tone as ice cold liquid suddenly moves over your skin, first near your neck at your collarbone, and then down between your breasts, circling each nipple, their peaks stiffening immediately. You jump and gasp at the unexpected cold sensation, a shiver running through your body as your skin melts the ice. 

You moan quietly and almost miss the next sound, the snick of his lighter. You freeze in place, fear momentarily clutching at your heart…Surely not? Did he intend to burn you? You curse internally, Does he know what he’s doing? Your breath becomes rapid as you wait for the pain, senses heightened by the blindfold. 

Instead, a warm liquid drips onto your skin, everywhere the ice cube had been moments before. It immediately hardens upon contact and you realize what it is: candle-wax. You feel the liquid drizzle on your breasts and stomach, warm but not unpleasant, it cools almost instantaneously when it touches your skin, cold from the ice.

Repeating the process, Will continues dripping some down your inner thighs, alternating between cold ice and hot wax. You quiver and whimper in pleasure, your chest rising and falling with each breath. You unexpectedly feel his breath on your left nipple as his warm tongue caresses the sensitive bud, while he massages the other breast with his hand. Your back arches off the couch, the sensations between hot and cold and his mouth on you starting to become overwhelming. 

You squirm as you feel him climbing on top of you, settling between your legs, brushing away some of the hardened wax. Tantalizingly, you feel his fingertips skate under the band of your panties.

“God, you are so fuckin’ beautiful,” he breathes and you can feel the heat in your cheeks at his compliment. “Lift your hips for me,” he murmurs as he pulls your underwear off, discarding them on the floor while placing a pillow under your bottom, elevating you for him. Panting as the cool air hits your hot pussy, you ache for him to finally touch you there. 

“Hmm, such a pretty, perfect little pussy you have,” his fingertips part your folds, opening you up to him, “Already so wet for me,” he growls as you feel him gather your slick on his fingers, bringing it up to your pearl, rubbing it with light circles. As much as you want him to touch you, it takes everything in you not to close your legs, keeping them open for his inspection, his actions made ever more sensual as you are still blindfolded and can’t see his expression at all.  

You feel him lower himself between your legs as he wraps his strong arms around your thighs. You hear him inhale, then he blows cool air directly onto your aching core. Jesus Fucking Christ, you think as your pussy automatically clenches down around nothing, and you mewl pathetically, practically begging for more. 

Ignoring your wishes, he begins kissing the insides of your thighs, biting and sucking and making sure he leaves bruises behind, just like you secretly want him to. After what seems like eternity, you feel his sharp nose run through your soaked folds, his luscious lips attach to your pearl and he sucks deeply.

Ecstasy at finally being touched the way you want, you slap a hand over your mouth to stifle a loud moan, fearful of waking his Nan at the most inopportune time. You know you’re in trouble as you’ve never been quiet in bed and you hated the thought of having to start now. You quickly shove a pillow over your face, muffling your noises as he fucks you.

Will chuckles at your struggle, his tongue pushing into you, lapping at your folds, sucking your clit. You suddenly feel a finger at your entrance, sliding in easily given how wet you were for him. He strokes inside of you for a moment before inserting a second finger, wiggling them on the way in, stretching your pussy and brushing that spongy spot inside. Electricity zings through your core and into your chest with his touch, causing you to let out a muffled cry. You’re sure your heart skips several beats as he continues stroking inside of you, curling his fingers and beckoning your orgasm forward. Writhing and moaning like a slut, you buck your hips up into his face, the pleasure consuming you. 

“Hmm, so tight. Just the way I always imagined,” he whispers, almost to himself. The fact that Will, your sweet Will, was talking so dirty turns you on even more. The room is full of your pants and moans and lewd noises coming from your wet core.

Expertly alternating his tongue between flicking your clit and sucking on it, he sets a steady rhythm with his fingers, consistently brushing that rough patch inside of you, your orgasm approaching almost embarrassingly quick. Breathing heavily into the pillow, you let out a muffled cry as your release washes over you, shattering in his face, legs trembling uncontrollably. You feel your walls pulse around his fingers as he continues to fuck you through your peak. 

Coming down from your high, you remove the offending pillow from your face, panting heavily and muttering a string of curses. You rip your blindfold off so you can see his face. He’s still crouched between your thighs, his lips wet from your slick, looking indecently triumphant at making you cum so quickly. Without hesitating you reach for him, pulling him back up your body, slamming your lips against his. You revel at the salty taste of yourself on his tongue.

You can’t remember the last time a man ate your pussy so well. Crazed with lust, you reach to undo his pants, with Will suckling at your neck. There was nothing that you wanted more in this moment than to have his cock in your mouth as you unzip his jeans. 

Realizing what you are trying to do, he rises above you, assuming control once again. “So eager for my cock now, are you?” a devilish smirk plays on his lips. “I need you on your knees.”

Christ, you think to yourself as you hastened to obey. You had never experienced this dominant side of Will, but you could feel the slick forming between your thighs again from his simple command. 

Sitting on the couch, knees spread, he’s pulled his cock out but his jeans are still on, pumping himself with his right hand. He watches your expression, breathing deeply through his long, straight nose. 

Your hands slide up his thighs and you finally get a good look at his cock - thick and veiny, his length stands proudly erect against his stomach, the head weeping slightly; he’s impressively large. His patch of hair is kept trimmed and neat, his balls round and smooth with a light dusting of finer hair.  

You gulp involuntarily at the sight of him; you had no idea he was so big. Your eyes flick up to meet his own and he raises his eyebrows at you, as if to say yeah, I know it’s big. 

You smirk at his audaciousness as you tug at his pants and he lifts his hips, allowing you to pull his jeans and boxers completely off. You were naked, why shouldn’t he be too? you reason with yourself, eagerly removing his clothes, although he still had his t-shirt on.

Kneeling between his legs, you gently wrap your hand around his cock, enjoying the soft velvety texture of it, swiping your thumb over the weeping head, watching his face. You pump him a few times, feeling the weight of his impressive length heavy in your hand. 

He sucks in a breath when you wrap your lips around his cock and begin taking him as far as you can, your hand continuing to pump the rest that won’t fit in your mouth. You breathe through your nose and relax your throat, attempting to take him further. His breathing is quick and shallow as he moves his hips gently, matching the rhythm of your mouth as you move up and down his length. You can feel the tip of his cock hit the back of your throat and feel momentary pride that you never had much of a gag reflex. Your other hand gently cups his balls and gives them a gentle massage. 

He groans in pleasure and closes his eyes, tilting his head on the back of the couch as you continue your ministrations. Slurping noises fill the room as you repeatedly swirl your tongue over the tip. Flattening your tongue, you lick a strip up the vein in the middle of his shaft like a lollipop before fastening your mouth around the head and sucking harshly. You moan around his cock as you feel your core start to ache all over again, so turned on by giving him pleasure. 

As you work him, his fingers tangle in your hair; he doesn’t use force, only guiding your motions as you slurp and suck on him. After a few more passes with your mouth and tongue, his fingers tighten on your hair, pulling you away from his cock. Confused, you look up at him with pleading eyes, wanting to continue.

“If you keep doing that, I’m not going to last very long.” He stands suddenly, dragging you up from the floor by your hair. You whine at the pain but an insane smile plays on your lips, impressed how committed he was to this dominant role and you secretly love the pain.

He hauls you towards his bedroom, flipping on the lamp at the bedside table. Letting go of your hair, he turns to you and removes his shirt, grabbing from behind his neck and pulling it up over his head. The first thing you notice is the silver necklace he’s always worn, even years ago during your school days, hanging around his neck. You glance at the cross, before your eyes drink in the sight of his naked body, admiring his strong shoulders, muscular chest, and toned abs. 

Prowling towards you, he presses his body to yours, the heat coming off of him in waves and warming your naturally cooler skin. His hands reach for your hips as he holds you close to him, a moment of tenderness, your arms circling around his neck. 

Just as you think he’s leaning down to kiss you, suddenly he’s bending down, grabbing you by the thighs, and unceremoniously throwing you onto the bed. The bed makes for a soft landing but it momentarily stuns you as you crash down upon it, having no time to recover as he’s suddenly on top of you again, caging you in with his muscular arms, resting between your thighs. He lowers his mouth to yours, ravaging you again, his fingers in your hair, holding you still for him. 

You whine loudly into his mouth, needing him, your core aching for him, desperate for more. You want to feel his large cock stretch you, the anticipation eating at your patience. He’s moving back down your body again, biting harshly on your nipple, then moving his tongue over the sore spot to ease the pain. His thumb finds your clit as he repeats the bite to your other breast. You arch your back towards him as he continually switches between giving you pain and pleasure, your mind going blissfully numb. 

Suddenly, he's kissing back up your body, but your core is still aching to be touched. You mewl, rubbing your thighs together. “Don’t worry, I’m not done with you yet,” he whispers darkly.

Laying down on his side next to you, he slides a hand between your breasts, down your stomach and onto your aching core where he doesn't waste time, inserting two fingers and setting a brutal pace. The palm of his hand rubs your clit and his long fingers reach deep inside you, repeatedly stroking that rough spot. Your heart jolts again at the sensation, you’re panting and moaning uncontrollably as he fucks you ruthlessly with his fingers. Just as soon as your walls begin to pulsate, he takes his hand away and you look up at him in horror.

“Oh, no worries, love, you’re gonna cum again, but it’s gonna be on my cock,” he purrs into your ear.

You huff and pant, deciding to tease him a little in return. You reach for his fingers that were just inside of you, his middle and ring fingers coated with your slick. Maintaining eye contact, you watch his face as you insert each finger into your mouth, licking him clean. You close your lips and hum around his fingers, enjoying your salty taste. His mouth hangs open and you observe his chest rising and falling more rapidly as he stares at your hot mouth sucking on his fingers.

“Fuck,” he murmurs hoarsly, suddenly positioning himself between your legs once his fingers are clean. Laying his body on top of yours, you relish in the feeling of his warm weight pressing you into the bed, chest to chest, skin to skin, your hips cradling his. Your hands caress the broad planes of his back and shoulders as he sucks on your neck, leaving a hickey you know you won’t be able to hide. Your hips buck up into his, your patience gone, you need him to be inside you.

“Will, please,” you beg pathetically, reaching down and stroking his cock, attempting to guide it to your entrance.

“Didn’t I promise you would beg for it?” he whispers, a smug smile on his lips as he knows what a pathetic, mewling mess he has already made of you. 

Sitting back on his heels between your legs, he pumps himself a few times, his eyes hooded and dark, raking over your body that’s laid out on the bed before him. He takes his thumb and circles your clit, guiding his cock with his other hand to your entrance. He teases you, sliding just the head in and back out again. His mouth is open slightly and he pants a little as he tortures you by not giving you what you want. You inhale sharply at first as his thick head stretches your pussy, but soon start to squirm and whine, needing his cock to fill you up. Without warning, he grabs you by your hips and thrusts into you, your pussy clenching down on his cock at the intrusion, your back arching off the bed, you suck in a sharp breath and let out a small cry at the pain of the sudden stretch as he hurts you so good. 

He lowers his body back onto yours once he’s buried himself to the hilt in your wet heat where he pauses, allowing you to adjust to him. You take a few deep breaths through your nose, pulling him closer to you, nibbling on his neck and shoulders to distract yourself from the stretching of your pussy around his thick cock. You can feel every ripple, every vein, every ridge of his cock inside of you. 

“Fuckin’ hell,” he groans into your neck at the sensation of being squeezed, filling you so deliciously. Capturing your lips again with his own, he doesn’t move above you, hips still against yours.

You moan into his mouth, tugging at the back of his hair, raking your nails down his back, ready for him to finally move. He gives a few shallow thrusts, watching your face, making sure you’re okay. Satisfied that you aren’t in any more pain, he pulls out and slams his hips back into yours and you cry aloud as another jolt of electric pleasure courses through you.

His hips roll into yours with a steady rhythm and you pant as the drag of his cock continually rubs against your g-spot, sending more electric currents through your pussy. His face is still in your neck and you grab the back of his hair, breathing harshly into his ear, overwhelmed at the sensation of his cock inside of you.

He adjusts positions to hover over you, his damn silver necklace swinging in your face. He grips your thigh with one hand as he drags it up over his hip, the other hand slides up your chest, his long fingers wrapping around your throat as he slams into you relentlessly, holding you in place for him. He’s careful not to push on your windpipe, rather putting pressure on the sides of your neck, giving you room to breathe. 

The noises of heavy breathing and skin slapping erotically fills the room, the smell of sex in the air. You grip the wrist that’s wrapped around your throat, the better to hold on as he picks up the pace, snapping his hips into yours. You feel the strength of his arm holding you down, corded with muscle, watching as his abs flex with every thrust into you. The primal knowledge of his strength and power, the thought that he could easily crush your windpipe without even trying, the feel of his cock stretching your walls, the scent of his body, the heat radiating off of him takes over your senses until there is nothing left but him. Your body submits to him, your numb brain surrendering as you allow him total control over you.

Grunting and breathing heavily, he curses under his breath, “So tight…..fuckin’ hell,” he says between thrusts.

With his punishing pace, you can feel your walls fluttering around his cock, constantly sucking him back in as he repeatedly hits your spongy spot. You reach between your bodies to rub circles on your clit. 

He glances down at your hand, “You gonna cum for me, love? God, I can feel you clenching, your pussy doesn’t want to let me go,” he groans, voice seductively deep. “Look at you taking this dick so well. Who does your pussy belong to?” he asks suddenly, squeezing around your neck a little for emphasis and thrusting into you harshly.  

Your breath coming out in gasps, his question only fuels the pleasure building deep within, his possessive energy consuming you.

“Y…you, Will,” you whimper his name, barely able to form a coherent thought. 

“That’s what I thought,” he grunts back, never slowing his pace. 

You can feel your orgasm approaching, ecstasy building steadily, you start babbling uncontrollably, willing him to keep going. 

“Will,” you pant, your breathing harsh, “I’m - I’m coming, Will. Please… don’t stop….” 

A moment later he practically growls as your cunt clenches around his cock, pistoning his hips into yours as your orgasm hits you like a freight train, waves of pleasure crashing over you, one wave rolling into the next. You cry aloud, hardly hearing the volume of your own voice, your eyes rolling into the back of your head, your breathing fast and labourious and you don’t think you’ve ever come so hard in your life. 

He pounds into you, sustaining your pleasure through your peak, somehow managing not to cum himself until your cries die down. He pulls out of you, pumping himself the last few strokes, squirting his hot seed all over your belly. “Fucking perfect little pussy, took me so well,” he pants, breathing heavily. 

Your body feels like a limp noodle and immediately your eyes feel heavy, all you can manage to do is continue laying there, trying to catch your breath while Will retrieves a warm, wet washcloth from the bathroom. He cleans himself off of you, gently rubbing over your stomach, even wiping the mess of slick from between your thighs. You jump and whimper a little at the sensation as he brushes over your abused pussy, so sensitive after multiple orgasms, but you can tell he is trying to be as gentle as possible. 

After your thorough cleaning, you both slide down into the sheets of his bed, still naked, facing one another. Neither of you speak, content to only gaze at the other. Reaching for him, you trail your fingertips over his shoulders and chest and down his arms, as if by touching him, you are making sure he is real. His eyes blink at you slowly, calm and content. 

“Was that too rough for you? I didn’t do too much?” he asks quietly after a moment, you can hear the concern in his voice, worried that he took it too far with you.

A smile tugs at the corner of your mouth. You lean over to him, placing a sweet kiss on his lips. “Not at all, you were perfect. You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for that.” 

He gives you a small smile of satisfaction in return, brushing the hair from your face. You snuggle back down into his chest, both of you falling into a deep and peaceful slumber. Wrapped in his arms, curled into the heat of his body, enveloped in his smell, it was the best night’s sleep you had had in a very long time.

>>>Part 3

Tags: @sylas-the-grim @peonamay @quinnquinn317 @multyfangirl @aemondsscar @highinthetower @cyeco13 @chainsawsangel @boundlessfantasy

[incandescentflower]

When I first yelled about Doctor Slump to my friend she said to me "I love that your narrative kink is mental health" and despite me being yes, I know, but hey about it, it's true. I was trained as a mental health professional and the majority of times I've seen therapy or psychiatry depicted in either western or eastern media it has been for dramatic purposes and often ethically questionable.

Doctor Slump wasn't perfect for me in that area, but it was pretty damned close. It depicts therapy and psychiatric treatment as pretty mundane. It's not big and dramatic. It's small steps as you work to get healthy. And yes, drama is happening around these characters in pretty big ways, but their work on themselves is something required every day, consistent and steady, and taking time to heal.

And somehow Doctor Slump was very serious about mental health but at the same time was sometimes absurdist in it's depictions of the emotional roller coaster of life. I appreciated this dichotomy. It allowed the viewer to face the reality of very familiar emotions in a humorous, non-threatening way. Every time Jeong Woo would kick his feet in a full on tantrum I would think dude, get it together (even while I was laughing) but he would always face the conflict as an adult, even if his first impulse was to melt down.

The emotions were extremely relatable to me as I try to adult. I have those reactions all the time internally. I tell my therapist how I have "don't wannas" constantly and this show simply dramatized those feelings in actions. I liked that it showed that even if you've matured it doesn't mean you don't have those impulses anymore, it just means you're working to manage them. And what is ultimately important is how you act as you face your emotions.

Doctor Slump comes to a close with a message about mental health that is quite powerful. They say outright that being mentally healthy doesn't mean being happy all the time. It means having the coping skills to manage the hard times.

My only wish is that they had left it a bit more open. They do make it sound like mental health treatment is one and done and once you learn how to cope you are cured. That is where I wish Ha Neul's psychiatrist would have said she was ready to move forward but she could come back if she need to. Healing isn't a straight line. It can ebb and flow when you least expect it.

That wish doesn't detract from how nice it was to see mental health treated with kindness, empathy and respect as a significant part of this drama. I really truly loved going through the highs and lows with Jeong Woo and Ha Neul and I am going to miss them very much, but I'm really glad they have each other for the future bumps in the road.

[mistfallenmemes]

𝙿𝙸𝙲𝚃𝚄𝚁𝙴 𝚃𝙾 𝙱𝚄𝚁𝙽

"State the obvious."

"I didn't get my perfect fantasy."

"I realized you loved yourself more than you could ever love me."

"So go and tell your friends that I'm obsessive and crazy.

"By the way, I hate that stupid old pickup truck."

"You're a redneck heartbreak."

"You're a redneck heartbreak who's really bad at lying."

"Watch me strike a match on all my wasted time."

"As far as I'm concerned you're just another picture to burn."

"There's no time for tears."

"I'm just sitting here planning my revenge."

"There's nothing stopping me from going out with all of your best friends."

"My daddy's gonna show you how sorry you'll be."

"If you're missing me you better keep it to yourself."

"Coming back around here would be bad for your health."

𝙵𝙸𝙵𝚃𝙴𝙴𝙽

"You take a deep breath and you walk through the doors."

"Say hi to your friends you ain't seen in a while."

"Try and stay out of everybody's way."

"You're gonna be here for the next four years in this town."

"You know I haven't seen you around before."

"When you're 15 and somebody tells you they love you, you're gonna believe it."

"Feeling like there's nothing to figure out."

"Count to ten, take it in."

"This is life before you know who you're gonna be."

"Soon enough you're best friends."

"We'll be out of here as soon as we can."

"He's got a car."

"You're feeling like you're flying."

"Your mama's waiting up."

"You're thinking he's the one."

"And (you're) dancing around your room when the night ends."

"Your first kiss makes your head spin round."

"In your life you'll do things greater than dating the boy on the football team."

"But I didn't know it at fifteen."

"When all you wanted was to be wanted."

"Wish you could go back and tell yourself what you know now."

"Back then I swore I was gonna marry him one day."

"I realized some bigger dreams of mine."

"And we both cried."

"Don't forget to look before you fall."

"I've found time can heal most anything."

"You might just find who you're supposed to be."

"Take a deep breath, girl."

𝚂𝙿𝙰𝚁𝙺𝚂 𝙵𝙻𝚈

"The way you move is like a full on rainstorm

"The way you move is like a full on rainstorm, and I'm a house of cards."

"You're the kind of reckless that shoudl send me running."

"You're the kind of reckless that should send me running, but I kinda know that I won't get far."

"You stood there in front of me just close enough to touch."

"My mind forgets to remind me you're a bad idea."

"You touch me once and it's really something."

"You find I'm even better than you imagined I would be."

"I'm on my guard for the rest of the world but with you, I know it's no good."

"I could wait patiently."

"I run my fingers through your hair and watch the lights go wild."

"Just keep on keeping your eyes on me."

"It's just wrong enough to make it feel right."

"Lead me up the staircase."

"Won't you whisper soft and slow."

"I'm captivated by you, baby."

"Drop everything now."

"Meet me in the pouring rain."

"Kiss me on the sidewalk."

"Take away the pain."

"Gimme something that'll haunt me when you're not around."

"'Cause I see sparks fly, whenever you smile."

𝚁𝙴𝙳

"Loving him is like driving a new Maserati down a dead end street."

"Loving him is like trying to change your mind once you're already flying through the free fall."

"(It's) like the colors in autumn, so bright, just before they lose it all."

"Losing him was blue, like I'd never known."

"Missing him was dark gray, all alone."

"Forgetting him was like trying to know somebody you never met."

"Loving him was red."

"Touching him was like realizing all you ever wanted was right there in front of you."

"Memorizing him was as easy as knowing all the words to your old favorite song."

"Fighting with him was like trying to solve a crossword and realizing there's no right answer."

"Regretting him was like wishing you never found out that love could be that strong."

"Remembering him comes in flashbacks and echoes."

"(I) tell myself it's time now gotta let go."

"But moving on from him is impossible when I still see it all in my head."

"And that's why he's spinning 'round in my head."

"(It) comes back to me, burning red."

"His love was like driving a new Maserati down a dead end street."

𝙱𝙻𝙰𝙽𝙺 𝚂𝙿𝙰𝙲𝙴

"Nice to meet you, where you been?"

"I could show you incredible things."

"Saw you there and I thought 'Oh, my God, look at that face.'

"You look like my next mistake."

"Love's a game, wanna play?"

"I can read you like a magazine."

"Ain't it funny? Rumors fly."

"And I know you heard about me."

"So hey, let's be friends."

"I'm dying to see how this one ends."

"Grab your passport and my hand."

"I can make the bad guys good for a weekend."

"So it's gonna be forever or it's gonna go down in flames."

"You can tell me when it's over if the high was worth the pain."

"They'll tell you I'm insane."

"'Cause you know I love the players and (you) love the game."

"'Cause we're young, and we're reckless."

"We'll take this way too far."

"It'll leave you breathless or with a nasty scar."

"You're the King, baby, I'm your Queen."

"(I'll) find out what you want, be that girl for a month."

"I can make all the tables turn

"(I'll) keep you second guessing like 'Oh, my God, who is she?'"

"I get drunk on jealousy, but you'll come back each time you leave."

"'Cause, darling, I'm a nightmare dressed like a daydream."

"Boys only want love if it's torture."

"Don't say I didn't, say I didn't warn ya."

"'Cause you know I love the players."

"But I've got a blank space, baby, and I'll write your name."

𝙴𝙽𝙳 𝙶𝙰𝙼𝙴

"I wanna be your endgame."

"I wanna be your first string."

"I wanna be your A-Team."

"You and me, we got big reputations."

"I got some big enemies."

"You and me, we'd be a big conversation."

"You like the bad ones too."

"I don't wanna touch you."

"I don't wanna be just another ex-love you don't wanna see."

"I don't wanna miss you like the other girls do."

"I don't wanna hurt you."

"I know what they all say."

"I got issues and chips on both of my shoulders."

"The truth is, it's easier to ignore it, believe me."

"Even when we'd argue, we'd not do it for long

"I've made mistakes, and made some choices that's hard to deny."

"After the storm, something was born on the Fourth of July."

"With four words on the tip of my tongue."

"We tried to forget it, but we just couldn't."

"I bury hatchets but I keep maps of where I put 'em."

"(My) reputation precedes me, they told you I'm crazy."

"I swear I don't love the drama, it loves me."

"I can't let you go, your handprint's on my soul."

"It's like your eyes are liquor, it's like your body is gold."

"You've been calling my bluff on all my usual tricks."

"So here's the truth from my red lips."

𝙲𝚁𝚄𝙴𝙻 𝚂𝚄𝙼𝙼𝙴𝚁

"Fever dream high in the quiet of the night, you know that I caught it."

"Shiny toy with a price, you know that I bought it."

Killing me slow, out the window

"I'm always waiting for you to be waiting below."

"Devils roll the dice, angels roll their eyes."

"What doesn't kill me makes me want you more."

"And it's new, the shape of your body."

"It's blue, the feeling I've got."

"It's cool, that's what I tell 'em."

"No rules in breakable heaven."

"It's a cruel summer with you."

"You say that we'll just screw it up in these trying times."

"We're not trying."

"So cut the headlights."

"I'm always waiting for you just to cut to the bone."

"And if I bleed, you'll be the last to know."

"He looks up grinning like a devil."

"I'm drunk in the back of the car."

"And I cried like a baby coming home from the bar."

"Said, "I'm fine, " but it wasn't true."

"I don't wanna keep secrets just to keep you."

"And I snuck in through the garden gate every night that summer just to seal my fate."

"And I screamed for whatever it's worth 'I love you'."

"Ain't that the worst thing you ever heard?"

𝙲𝙰𝚁𝙳𝙸𝙶𝙰𝙽

"When you are young, they assume you know nothing."

"But I knew you; dancin' in your Levi's, drunk under a streetlight."

"I knew you; hand under my sweatshirt. Baby, kiss it better."

"And when I felt like I was an old cardigan under someone's bed... you put me on and said I was your favorite."

"A friend to all is a friend to none."

"Chase two girls, lose the one."

"But I knew you; playing hide-and-seek and giving me your weekends."

"I knew you; your heartbeat on the High Line once in 20 lifetimes."

"To kiss in cars and downtown bars was all we needed."

"You drew stars around my scars but now I'm bleedin'."

"'Cause I knew you; steppin' on the last train, marked me like a bloodstain."

"I knew you; tried to change the ending, Peter losing Wendy."

"I knew you; leavin' like a father, running like water."

"But I knew you'd linger like a tattoo kiss."

"I knew you'd haunt all of my what-ifs."

"I knew everything when I was young."

"I knew I'd curse you for the longest time."

"I knew you'd miss me once the thrill expired."

"... and I knew you'd come back to me."

𝙲𝙷𝙰𝙼𝙿𝙰𝙶𝙽𝙴 𝙿𝚁𝙾𝙱𝙻𝙴𝙼𝚂

"(You) booked the night train for a reason, so you could sit there in this hurt."

"Bustling crowds or silent sleepers, (you're) not sure which is worse."

"Because I dropped your hand while dancing, left you out there standing crestfallen on the landing."

"Your mom's ring in your pocket, my picture in your wallet."

"Your heart was glass, I dropped it."

"You told your family for a reason, you couldn't keep it in."

"Your sister splashed out on the bottle, now no one's celebrating."

"Your hometown skeptics called it 'champagne problems'."

"You had a speech, you're speechless."

"Love slipped beyond your reaches."

"I couldn't give a reason."

"Your Midas touch on the Chevy door, November flush and your flannel cure."

"This dorm was once a madhouse"

"I made a joke, well, it's made for me."

"How evergreen, our group of friends."

"Don't think we'll say that word again."

"And soon they'll have the nerve to deck the halls that we once walked through."

"One for the money, two for the show."

"I never was ready, so I watch you go."

"Sometimes you just don't know the answer 'til someone's on their knees and asks you."

"She would've made such a lovely bride what a shame she's fucked in the head." "But you'll find the real thing instead; she'll patch up your tapestry that I shred."

"You won't remember all my champagne problems."

𝙼𝙰𝚁𝙾𝙾𝙽

"When the morning came we were cleaning incense off your vinyl shelf 'cause we lost track of time again."

"Laughing with my feet in your lap like you were my closest friend."

"How'd we end up on the floor anyway?"

"Your roommate's cheap-ass screw-top rosé, that's how."

"I see you every day now."

"And I chose you."

"The burgundy on my T-shirt when you splashed your wine into me and how the blood rushed into my cheeks, so scarlet."

"The mark you saw on my collarbone, the rust that grew between telephones, the lips I used to call home, so scarlet, it was maroon."

"When the silence came, we were shaking blind and hazy."

"How the hell did we lose sight of us again?

"Ain't that the way shit always ends?."

"You were standin' hollow-eyed in the hallway."

"Carnations you had thought were roses, that's us."

"I feel you no matter what."

"And I lost you."

"And I wake with your memory over me."

"That's a real fucking legacy."

"And I wake with your memory over me; that's a real fucking legacy to leave."

"It was maroon."

[kholnt]

I just wanted to say how much I looooooovvveeee your Lost Link fic! I love the idea of what would happen if Wild remembered his past. I wanted to know how you think his knight training went? I definitely think that it was a terrible experience that gave him a whole wagon full of horrible coping mechanisms and bad habits(and from where the fic is going, I'm guessing you think similarly), but I wanted to know how you thought his training went. Anyway, just wanted to say how much I appreciate and love your work, Thank You!

WAAAH THANK YOU FOR YOUR KIND WORDS!!! (but give all of the writing credit to @/eponatheestallion <33 cannot emphasize that enough) BUT! you basically got it in one! his knight training was NOT kind to him in the slightest. i mean, even with the canon material we HAVE it still doesn't particularly spell a good time. (staring at mipha, zelda and purah's diaries respectively. and creating a champion. and possibly aoc but thats a different timeline + i barely know anything abt it so its there In Spirit) i will warn you that this ones gonna be long bc botw diaries TEND TO BE YAP SESSIONS! AND im a yapper so i'll just give you the tldr:

lost's knight training was abhorrent for his mental health and plays into a LOT of his mannerisms and why he is the way he is

ANYWAY! i'll just talk abt things that have been established either in the au or in botw canon :) any blanks you can fill on your own

as for canon things heres some things that stood out to me (formatted to be paragraphs for my sanity):

"A youth named Link was brought to me a hundred years ago, covered in wounds and on death's doorstep. Link… So young, yet so courageous. He was the youngest knight to have ever been appointed to the Imperial Guard at Hyrule Castle. He was also a gifted swordsman who was selected as captain of Princess Zelda's personal guard. I thought his skills would be enough to defeat Ganon in glorious fashion…

It was the best we could do…" -Purah's Diary

~~~~~

"When I finally got around to asking why he's so quiet all the time, I could tell it was difficult for him to say. But he did. With so much at stake, and so many eyes upon him, he feels it necessary to stay strong and to silently bear any burden.

A feeling I know all too well… For him, it has caused him to stop outwardly expressing his thoughts and feelings. I always believed him to be simply a gifted person who had never faced a day of hardship. How wrong I was… Everyone has struggles that go unseen by the world… I was so absorbed with my own problems, I failed to see his." -Zelda's Diary ~~~~~

"At the request of Hyrule's king, a group of outsiders came to greet us at the domain. One of them was a Hylian child of only about four years of age. His name was Link. He made quite a first impression. He was curious and full of energy, with a ready smile. Are all Hylian children that way?

One thing that surely sets him apart is his swordsmanship, which I hear is exceptional. He has even bested adults. He must be somewhat reckless, however, as he was covered in bruises. Wishing to be helpful, I healed his wounds for him." ~~~~~

"Link came to visit the domain. It feels like forever since he was here last. He no longer resembles the child I first met. He is now an accomplished knight and keeper of the sword that seals the darkness. I am so proud. However… He hardly speaks anymore, and smiles even more rarely. He is still the kind soul I knew, but something has changed.

I asked him if something had happened, if something was wrong. He merely shook his head. Perhaps it is his newly acquired height, but I feel he is ever looking past me, into the distance beyond…" -Mipha's Diary

~~~~~ "The details of how Link obtained the sword a hundred years ago have been lost to the mists of time, but since he was in possession of it for a number of years prior to becoming a Champion, he was likely around twelve or thirteen years old when it happened."

~~~~~

"After the Champions for the Divine Beasts were chosen, there was an incident at Hyrule Castle. A Guardian went berserk during a test run. Link deftly defeated it, earning himself a great deal of recognition. Impressed, King Rhoam made him Princess Zelda's appointed knight. With no regard for his own personal safety, he loyally fulfilled his duty to guard Princess Zelda with his life." -Creating a Champion

(there will be another thing later but its separated for a Reason.) ANYWAY! these are like. BIG things in canonical material that I feel like are important, especially if they're highlighted. i'm not really going to elaborate much since its kind of spelled out already but i'll say a few things nonetheless (also for consistencies sake i'm going to say lost but do know this ALSO applies to wild) he was the youngest knight appointed in history. like even that alone is FUCKED??? i don't remember if it was something in canon, fanon or something kay n i made up (but it doesnt rlly matter since its canon to the lost hero au ANYWAY!) but he became a knight at TWELVE soon after pulling the sword. then proceeded to become a royal guard at 17. this is a kid surrounded by adults in a generally Unsafe Environment, that alone is enough for some level of fucked. ill explain the "hes been training since he was four" later since i have Thoughts about that, but on a unrelated note do notice that mipha makes the assumption that lost is reckless and not through actually seeing him being clumsy. hyrulean guard when i get you now, to me the vow of silence was something that stemmed from before the calamity and started up in his training. because thats a twelve year old being forced to be a hero when he never got the choice to. OBVIOUSLY hes going to shut down. again, this will be expanded upon later also. lost is canonically self sacrificial. VERY self sacrificial. no further comments, just saying OKAY. NOW ITS LATER BC ITS TIME TO YAP ABT THE "inspired by canon but like. its canon plus." canon is bent in specific ways bc the way link is characterized (in cac specifically) makes him very uh,,,, inhuman i suppose. i love looking at scenarios where decisions have consequences, and it's that specific reason why i enjoy "what if" aus so much.

yes, lost was still trained when he was four. no it was not formally. to me, lost had an interest in swordsmanship because his dads a knight! hes going to be exposed to at least a little bit at an early age. he was insistent on wanting to learn, so with the power of sticks, pot lids, and a lot of positive reinforcement, he learned how to do the movements of swordfighting. he'd never been given a proper sword until the guard brought him to zora's domain. lost's dad never wanted to force the position of hero onto him, so he never gave him a sword. everyone knows that he's the hero except him, and lost's dad would rather keep it that way until he's old enough to climb mount lanayru (it happens much earlier than that) now abt the fucking "According to tales told by the long-lived Zora, Link visited Zora's Domain when he was younger and formed a bond with them, defeating a Lynel and teaching various skills to Zora children. This story sheds light on both his physical abilities and his strength of character." from creating a champion just like. isn't canon in this. the only other recorded time lost fought a lynel in zoras domain was when he was already zelda's guard and he was not younger. so by proxy it must've been when he was four WHICH ISN'T HAPPENING SORRY GUYS!!!! i'm not having a four year old fight a lynel hero or not!!!! it's referenced in lost hero canon (the soldiers accompanied made jokes and tried to egg lost on but it got shut down real quick since a. his dad was there and b. literally anyone who have thinking caps would go "yeah um... no actually!") and now its fanon time :))) when lost was in the army, he was usually trained separately from the other knights, mostly because of skill difference. as a CHILD he was able to clear soldiers, he needed different training period. as for the actual formal training, it was extremely strict. terrible conditions stemmed from an awful reward "system" (that usually led to lost being extremely fatigued and starting an endless loop of punishment. there is a reason why lost can push through awful conditions: hes used to it) all blanketed with the justification of "he's the hero of hyrule." they trained him to be a weapon, not a person. he doesn't have a sense of self nor an identity outside of "hero" "champion" or "weapon." things like "brother" got stripped from him when he joined the academy. they didn't bother with setting up a future for him. he eventually figures his shit out but thats YEARS down the line, and even then he's still suffering from this,,,, self objectification? idk how else to describe it when he wasn't getting grilled for "not swinging his sword hard enough" or having his foot a centimeter off even though he hasnt had the privilege of Basic Necessities To Survive in (insert timeframe) he was usually doing something in the coliseum. as it turns out, having the hero show off in front of an audience by fighting a lynel (or multiple) is a GREAT money maker! shame he wasnt usually told beforehand!

being forced into heroism is a big reason as to why hes the silent knight. he never wanted this. being separated from his family (whom of which i have Many thoughts about. same for his childhood honestly) and surrounded by strangers who have no care for who he is but rather what he stands for was absolutely awful, and only made worse by his age. being silent and just dealing with it is how he coped, and its eventually going to boil over (just give it a few years) his knight training was one of THE worst things to happen to him, right under failing to save his kingdom and inadvertently being the cause of hyrule's demise. it's the reason why he acts the way he does. he wasn't allowed to forget, so instead it influences almost everything he does, says and thinks. SO YEAH IT WASNT A GOOD TIME

[quaranmine]

Art Symbolism in The Incandescence of a Dying Light

Okay, I want to talk about art symbolism in Firewatch AU tonight, so I can finally add this post to the masterpost. This is something I did accidentally at first, and then on purpose later when I realized how perfectly I set it up. It's a happy accident that I ran with. I wish I'd incorporated it more clearly throughout, but as it stands it's a nice little small detail.

Visual art is used throughout the story as symbol of healing and recovery. I think I can speak for most of my fellow artists/writers/etc that not only is our art an important part of our lives, but it helps us process things. I know it's that way for me. Tracking the mentions of art throughout the story paints a picture (lol) of Grian's journey.

Specifically, the very first moment we're introduced to Grian, he's drawing.

He's doing this as part of his job, but it's implied in this scene that he's not drafting anything technical and is just coming up with exteriors. He enjoys the drawing. But significantly, this is a scene before Mumbo disappears. It's a snapshot of the before, a snapshot of normal.

The next time art gets brough up is in chapter four, when Grian learns for the first time that Scar is an artist (while having his breakdown about Mumbo.)

He says, I used to draw. This is an intentional revealing of Grian's mental health in the AU, because depression will literally steal away all your creativity and desire to engage in things you love. I know that from experience, and I'm sure many readers do too. Grian used to draw, but now he doesn't. He used to be an architect--a career he loved--but now he isn't. That's all a mark of his past, which is a person he doesn't feel like he is anymore.

But once we get to chapter eight, after a few weeks of getting closer to Scar and chipping away at finding Mumbo we get:

Scar asks Grian to draw something for him, and Grian actually does it. He picks up the pencil again. This is also when we start to dip into Scar's backstory, because this leads into Grian asking Scar why he's an artist. Scar picked up the hobby after his accident, as something to help him. He stuck with it. (Scar also offers to mail Grian a painting here, an idea that gets "satisfied" in the last paragraph of the story.)

But really it's just...the act of picking up a pencil here that does it for Grian. It's an indication that he's already in a slightly different mindset than he's been in for the past year. He's not healed yet. But he's tangibly in a different place than he was before he met Scar. He's not only willing to try and draw something again, but also listen to a friend's suggestion (after famously ignoring his other friends for months in an attempt at self-destruction.)

It's not a perfect drawing. He throws the first attempt away. But he actually tried again!

Then in chapter twelve we get more art related things, starting with Grian getting to see more of Scar's paintings. We also get another mention from Scar about how picking up art helped him:

For Scar, art is a big part of his identity now. It's a passion he's held for years, and it was something that he could fall back on to help process his trauma and grief. He has insecurities about his art (he's not all confidence all the time) but it is something that he finds important. He finds it important enough to recognize that it would benefit Grian, too.

Then, of course, we have Grian giving Scar the picture of his lookout that he drew in chapter eight. I just knew I had to fit it into the last chapter somehow, to bring it full circle. It's sort of a physical thank you.

It's not just a drawing Grian is giving him. It's the first thing he drew again after months of motivation went down the drain from grief and depression. It's the physical signfier that Scar had a huge impact on his life. It's the proof that maybe Grian can salvage this. He's not going to be his old self. But he doesn't have to abandon everything. He can keep engaging in art. He can get his career back. He can draw a new life for himself.

[lulu24784]

washing machine heart | part 1

"I know who you pretend I am."

[AO3 Link]

next chapter

synopsis: | You're absolutely infatuated with Stan Marsh and have even started dating him! It should be a dream come true, but the truth is, he's only with you to make Wendy Testaburger jealous. To help you work through your emotions, you turn to Kenny McCormick, your best friend.

pairings: | kenny mccormick x fem! reader ; stan marsh x fem! reader ; wendy testaburger x stan marsh

cws: | angst, drug use/drug mentions, explicit language, sexual content, unrequited love, mental health themes / sh everyone is aged up to be 18+

Wendy Testaburger is everything you aren’t.

South Park High’s A+ student, Student Council President, and volleyball team captain. In addition to all of that, she is also incredibly sweet and beautiful. You didn’t have a single thing going for you against her. Everyone adores her. Everyone... And that includes your boyfriend, Stan Marsh.

Not long after Stan and Wendy’s past break-up, you two began dating, and you realized right away that he was taking advantage of you to make her jealous, fill the void, and have somebody nearby... But that was all right. You didn’t give a damn as long as you were standing next to him. But you knew.

Unfortunately.

You were willing to go to any length to help him heal his wounded heart and, in the process, make him fall in love with you. But your wishful thinking was simply that.

There was no denying the pain. You wanted to cry every time you saw Stan sneaking looks at his ex. In your mind, plenty of shouting and sobbing, along with large crocodile tears. Asking, “Why? Why not me!?”

Yet as Stan leans in for a kiss, your heart would snap you back to being the love-struck idiot that you are. The kisses caused your heart to race, but only briefly. He wasn’t nervous or on edge being near you. He wasn’t on the verge of vomiting every time you so much as spoke to him. Such feelings were reserved for his true love. You were merely a placeholder.

But oh, how you adored him. His black hair peeking out from beneath his red and blue beanie, his blue eyes gleaming when something piqued his interest... How cozy his hands felt as he took hold of yours. It wasn’t fair. How could someone so lovely exist if you knew you could never fully be with them? The tightness in your chest grew stronger with each passing day that you were next to Stan’s side. Sooner or later, there would come a point where you would no longer be able to play the part. Your emotions would eventually reach a boiling point and explode.

For now, you were content. Content with this little thing you had going with the person who you considered the love of your life. Even if he had eyes for another. Someday, you’d make him see you.

“[Name]...?”

It dawned on you that you had been daydreaming for far longer than you had planned and you blinked. You grinned sheepishly as you turned to face the person who had asked your name. “Haha, sorry Kenny. What were you saying?”

The blonde gave you an unimpressed look and pointed to the barely nibbled-on sandwich in front of you. “Are you going to eat your lunch? Or can I have it?”

“Ah, you can have it. I’m not feeling very hungry.” You murmured gently, clearly troubled by something.

Kenny gave you a raised eyebrow as he grabbed the sandwich and chomped it down like he hadn’t eaten in days. You knew that wasn’t entirely true, though, because you frequently offered him the majority of your lunch. Being his closest friend, you knew his family was having a difficult time. He has always gone above and beyond for you when you needed him most. Not paying it forward would be rude.

“So, what’s on your mind, princess?” Kenny spoke while still having a full mouth. How charming. “Don’t tell me it’s more bullshit about Stan.” His gaze averted.

“Honestly, it’s none of your business, McCormick... But yeah.” You exhaled a long, dramatic sigh of defeat as you hung your head. You didn’t even need to elaborate. Kenny was well aware of how you felt. “I just... He’s just so sweet! Ya know? Like, when he looks at me, I just...!” You cradled your face in your hands as you tightly closed your eyes. “He’s so cute.” Kenny grimaced as a lovely sigh escaped your lips.

“When’s the last time he took you out on a date? Or, y’know, treated you like his girlfriend?” Kenny gave your forehead a light flick.

The mention of a date caused your eyes to glisten. “We’re supposed to hang out today after school! When he’s done with football practice!” You began smiling warmly. “I think today will be the day! I’m gonna get him to fall for me. For real! He won’t even remember Wendy when I’m done.”

“Are you going to fuck him or something?” Kenny snorted and waggled his brows at you.

You stammered, blush forming on your cheeks. “Jesus Kenny! Is that all you think about?” Standing up from the lunch table, you gave Kenny a timid smile. “I’m gonna take him on the best date ever.” Kenny stood to lend a hand as you started to gather up the leftover lunch garbage from the table.

“And what does the best date ever, without sex, look like?”

You gave Kenny’s arm a little smack. “God, you!” Kenny laughed.

He just knew how to push all your buttons.

The two of you have been friends since you moved to South Park in 5th grade. Now, in your senior year, the two of you were inseparable. Naturally, Kenny continued to hang out with his other friends, Stan, Kyle, and Eric, but he still made time for you. It was a bonus that you could spend more time with Kenny now that you were dating Stan. He was your best friend. Your ride or die. The one you could go to for anything.

It was also natural for Kenny to despise your relationship with Stan. As close of friends as they were, Kenny wasn’t too thrilled with Stan using you to make Wendy jealous. Especially because Kenny was aware of your massive crush on Stan. He knew Stan was depressed and possibly just looking for something... Or someone to help. But that wasn’t a good enough excuse. You deserved to experience true love. Someone who genuinely gave a shit about you and cared. Someone who listened to your issues and could make you feel protected!

While you rummaged through your locker to get your books for your next class, Kenny gazed down at you. You fluffed your fringe in the small mirror on your locker door before looking up at Kenny. He was looking down at you wistfully, as though he were lost in a daydream. With a sweet smile, you lightly prodded his nose.

“Hey, sleepyhead. We gotta get to class.”

When Kenny awoke from his daydream, he flashed you a dopey smile. “Whoops.” He leaned against the lockers with his hands comfortably tucked into the pockets of his orange parka. “I think I’m gonna skip. I’m just not feeling it.”

You shook your head and shut the door to your locker. “You’re gonna fail if you skip too much.”

He just shrugged and smiled as he walked towards the door.

“Don’t come crying to me when you gotta go to summer school!” You shouted and smiled briefly. “That boy, sometimes.. I swear.” With the books in your arms, you headed to class. Thoughts of your upcoming date with Stan quickly fill your head.

[wetcatspellcaster]

For the ask game!!

Rose faked a quick smile, though she knew it probably wasn't up to scratch. She remembered that particular ‘proposal’. It had been the first time they’d faced Cazador - the first time, the one where they had royally fucked it. Astarion had been sprawled out on the ground, bleeding out. She was wrist deep in his opened stomach, trying to keep his innards on the inside of his body, tears in her eyes, yelling out desperately for Shadowheart across the battlefield. He’d been crying blood, barely conscious, and as always, she’d found herself wishing he’d just shut the fuck up, and keep his breath inside his body. Not that he needed breath in his body. But she had always been a fan of Astarion not superfluously using up energy in order to annoy her.

Oooooh, thank you for the ask, anon!

Oh, Party Favours my beloved, you truly were just my excuse to say the most self-indulgent shit without having to back it up with evidence, for my own mental health. <3

Now, let me try and back up this most self-indulgent shit with evidence!

So, Party Favours was written in Early Access, before full Cazador lore. I never really assumed you'd fight Cazador twice, but I approached this hypothetical scene from two angles: 1. where me, the player, has fucked up and is about to go back to a previous sav for a second attempt or 2. In D&D campaigns, often you'll have a test fight with the BBEG first, to learn about their capabilities and strengths so that you can then make a more fully realised plan to take them out when you go for them a second time. Inevitably, you probably get your ass a little beat. So this was what that was.

In this hypothetical scene (w/o full access lore) I assumed that Cazador would be able to charm/Dominate Person Astarion and try to get him to fight the rest of the party (another classic D&D Campaign trope), bc I didn't realise the tadpole rendered Astarion immune. I was also imagining a Cazador with Legendary Resistances, Regeneration, and Legendary Actions, etc... all in all, a bit beefier than what we got.

In this imagined fight, the party attempt to take out Cazador but find themselves far outclassed, bc they are too low level. Astarion was ordered to attack the party by Cazador. He refuses and resists the command (for mutual pining reasons), but his resistance weakens him and renders him incapacitated bc of the effort it takes to ignore a direct command. Deeming him utterly useless (again, no Black Mass context in this case), Cazador gutted him - the organs were on show - and left him to bleed out like trash.

While Cazador flees (Shadowheart chasing him, bc she's the cleric with all the anti-undead arsenal) the others (Rose) ran to Astarion, who is on death saves but is conscious bc, again, this fic was solely for my mental health and my mental health alone. Obviously the poor fuck is already in love, but the proposal actually came when Rose immediately offered up her arm to try and force him to drink so that he could immediately heal. Which is also why she doesn't fully take it seriously: 1. he's dying and she thinks he's mental for even talking 2. he definitely says something like "straight from the vein, when there's a veritable surfeit of potions on hand? maybe I should just marry you, or you should at least buy me dinner first"

Look, at this point this poor OC is established as a Wisdom 10 queen (I love how much flak she gets in Pieces when truly, this fic is her Low Wis Era) but I do think a lot of the flirting - and a lot of the proposals she received - were not very serious, bc Astarion is Astarion but also bc he was too scared to act seriously. So this first proposal is an absolute dud tbh, she's right not to take it seriously bc it isn't very romantic, it's definitely a half conscious man being like "do you think I'd disintegrate, if we walked into a church together?" meanwhile she's screaming for a medic.

DVD commentary ask

[lokiwhitewolf]

Red Hot Winter- Chapter 13

Trigger warning: sex scene, blood sharing, death scene- minors dni Also, Elijah being such a cute boyfriend, I wish he was real <3

Chapter Text

Chapter 13- Darkest Heart of Men

" 'C'mon, Elijah, you have to chase me' Said Rebekah.

Elijah was chasing his sister through the woods, almost at nightfall, when the sun was just setting. He could feel the wind in his long hair, and the braids in front of his face that his sister made that morning. They were still grieving the death of their brother, Henrik, who was mauled by the werewolves when he and Niklaus went to watch them a few weeks prior during the full moon.

His father, Mikael, was taking the hardest. He was always hard and severe on all of them, but Niklaus took a lot more punishment than the rest of them. Whenever Rebekah would do something that would make their father mad, Niklaus would take the fall for it. He would never let his little sister take that type of beating, even though at this point the poor man had several scars across his back from his father's belt. Their mother would never do anything to stop it, so it was up to Rebekah and Elijah to nurse Niklaus back to his health. At this point, Elijah had learned some magic both from his mother and the witch Ayana to make Niklaus' punishment hurt less and make him heal faster, to which his father was less than pleased, saying that 'real man' needed to feel pain.

Later that night, was the night that everything changed.

Elijah couldn't sleep. Being an older sibling, he had a room to himself, and he had brought Tatia there many times, and would only touch her if she let him. He would immediately stop if she said so, he wouldn't take what wasn't his, like many men in his position would do. It wasn't right and for the life of him, Elijah couldn't phantom how that was still normal.

His father barged in unannounced, bringing a cup, and an unknown woman with him, being followed by Rebekah and Niklaus.

'Good, you're awake boy.' His father said. Elijah sat down. His sibling's clothes were stained with blood and they looked sick.

'Father, what happened? What is this?' He asked.

'Drink this, now boy!' Said Mikael, demanding, forcing the cup into Elijah's mouth, making him drink whatever was on the cup. It tasted so bittersweet, almost unbearable at first. But he drank all of it. As soon as he was done, Mikael put the cup beside him and stabbed Elijah in the chest, right in his heart.

When Elijah woke up, Mikael grabbed the woman, and took out a knife from his belt, cutting her arm. Niklaus and Rebekah's eyes turned black, and their veins popped up and they had fangs now.

'Stay back!' He hissed at them. 'Drink boy, drink now!' Mikael almost pushed Elijah's head to the woman's arm.

As soon as the exotic, sweet flavor of the woman's vein hit him Elijah felt the change. His head hung back and he groaned, his eyes turned black, his veins popped up and his fangs came down. It was a moment of pure, unparalleled sensation for Elijah, and it marked the beginning of a journey that would forever define him as a vampire. He leaned back down and drank all of the woman's blood, and it gave it so much power, he felt he could do anything."

"Elijah, Elijah, wake up." Said Elena, trying to wake him up from the dream he was having, or nightmare. "Elijah, wake up!"

He opened his eyes, scared. He never thought of that night fondly.

"Elena!"He said, pulling her close to him. "Oh my love, you're here."

"Yes, I am," She said, a bit coldly. "Who's Tatia?" She asked.

Elijah sat down, resting against the headboard. He knew this was coming. While Elena knew the spell of vampirism had been made by Esther using Tatia's blood, she really had no idea the story behind the meaning of it. He brought her closer to him. If there was one thing that he found out about himself in his relationship with Elena is that he needed to have physical contact with her at all times. He made her sit on top of him, and she let him. She also felt like she needed him touching her at all times.

"Tatia is part of your bloodline." He started, putting a loose strand of hair behind her ear as an excuse to caress her face. "Her blood was used to make the vampirism spell but also, me and Niklaus were fighting over her. Killing her to create vampires was just Mother's way of punishing me and him. Father also didn't like that I wouldn't just take her, as he had done with Mother. I could never do that, it isn't right."

"You loved her."

"Yes, I did."

"Did you want to turn her into a vampire?"

"Yes, but I found out she was gone. I thought she had left the village until Rebekah told me the blood we had drank to turn into vampires was hers."

"So falling in love with me… had nothing to do with her?" Elena asked, looking anywhere but him.

He gently lifted her face and brought her back to him.

"Elena, falling in love with you had nothing to do with her. I mourned her death, and I loved her, but what I feel for you, I haven't felt for anyone else until I met you."

She gave him a small smile.

He wasn't convinced that she was convinced, so he put his hand on her back and turned her around. They weren't wearing any clothes after Elijah had made her his the night before. Elena could see their reflection in the full-length mirror on the wall.

Elijah put her hair to the side and started kissing her neck, his hands holding hers.

"Can I touch you, my love?" He asked, whispering in her ear.

She nodded.

"Use your words, Elena."

"Yes… yes please, Elijah." Elena said, breathless.

Elijah held Elena's gaze as his hands moved to her chest. He cupped her breasts and began a gentle massage. His fingertips circled around her nipples, teasing them into taut little peaks. Elena felt her pulse pounding in her ears and her breath coming in gasps. The heated sensation left her weak in the knees and her heat was becoming wildly aroused. Elena moaned softly as Elijah's skilled touch continued.

His caress was gentle and caring, each move sending flutters of pleasure through her body. Her breathing deepened and she leaned her head back and closed her eyes, enjoying the sensation of his hands on her body.

When he moved further down, Elena gasped as she felt him between her legs. He started by lightly caressing her around her most sensitive area, eliciting a moan of delight from her.

He continued to tease her with swirling circles and tantalizing strokes, and she began to arch her back in arousal. He then began exploring her further by playing with her sex, and she let out a mixture of pleasure and pain. He knew he had her in the palm of his hand now and he kept intensifying the sensations until her body was shaking uncontrollably.

His fingers stroked her clit, sending waves of pleasure throughout her body. His touch was gentle yet insistent, and soon the heat between her legs was almost too much to bear. As he continued to massage her warmth, she could feel her desire building, and before she knew it, she was shaking with ecstasy.

As she began to reach her peak of pleasure, she let out a scream as she suddenly released her essence all over his fingers. He kept playing with her until every last drop of her was on his fingers.

"I love you." He said in her ear, while she was coming down from her high.

Elena had her eyes fixed on her reflection as she slid her body onto Elijah's arousal. She notices him squirm slightly as she slides herself onto his shaft, feeling it all the way through. She has never been so aroused — every single inch of his thick member is inside her and she can feel every nuance of his movements. She moves lower and lower until she feels fulfilled, her body radiating pleasure. Elijah's eyes are wide with desire as he looks between Elena and the mirror, his hands gripping her hips tightly.

She moves her body in a circular motion, pushing her hips back and forth and rotating them around. Elijah groans with pleasure, his thrusts becoming more and more urgent. Elena knows he is getting close and she starts to move faster, feeling her own pleasure reaching a peak. Elijah's grip on her hips tightens and with one last thrust, his essence explodes inside her as she reaches her peak all over him.

She fell forward with the intensity of her orgasm, Elijah holding her back. They stayed entwined in their moment for a few seconds, savoring the pleasure they had just shared, before collapsing in exhaustion against each other in the bed.

Elena rolled herself away from him, feeling all shorts of sensitivity.

He pulls her face towards him.

"I love you, Elena."

"I know, and I love you too." She said, smiling, pecking him on the lips. "It seemed like you were having a nightmare."

"Yes, about the night I was turned into a vampire. Mikael forced all of us to turn."

"I'm sorry honey."

"It's okay, at least now I've got you." He said, bringing her closer to him.

They'd stayed like this the entire day, had they not heard Klaus screaming.

They quickly put their clothes back on, Elena stealing Elijah's button-on, making him choose another one. They were coming down the stairs when Elena thought she saw something. Not something, someone. Katherine.

"Stealing my man, are you?" She said, before disappearing. Elijah called to her and she followed.

"Oh brother, Elena, thank you for finally joining us today," Klaus said, in the living room. "Now Elijah, am I going mad or is dear old Dad back to haunt us?"

"Wait Niklaus, you had a nightmare with him?" Asked Elijah.

"Uh, I just saw Katherine when I came down." Said Elena.

"Really? What did she say?" Asked Caroline.

"She said I was stealing Elijah from her," Elena said.

"You're not going mad." Said Bonnie, coming into the room with Davina. "The other side is falling apart. All the souls that had unresolved issues are coming over to deal with them."

"Didn't Monique say Katerina went to hell?" Asked Elijah.

"She had unresolved issues with Elena." Replied Bonnie.

"How do we make it stop?" Asked Klaus.

"We can't. There's nothing we can do." Bonnie replied.

"Thanks for absolutely nothing. Bonnie." Said Klaus, leaving the room.

"Don't take it personally." Said Caroline. "He's afraid he'll be a bad father like his father. I'm trying to convince him he won't, but he is not listening."

"Caroline, he is." Said Elijah. "I've seen everything Niklaus went through, I know he won't be like our father, he'll die before letting anything happen to his daughter."

Later that day, Elena was in the living room, waiting for Elijah so they could meet with Klaus, Caroline, Hayley, Bonnie, and Davina to go to Father Kieran's procession when she saw her again.

"I understood why you dated Stefan, because of the doppelganger course, but did you steal my original?" Said Katherine, standing in front of her.

"Don't you have someone else to haunt, like Damon? Wasn't he the one who killed you?" Asked Elena, sitting down on the couch.

"I could haunt Damon, but it's so much more fun to haunt you." Said Katherine, smiling. "Does he touch you like he touched me? Or like he touched Tatia?"

"Elijah loves me for me, Katherine. I'm not using him to get forgiveness from his brother for running away for 500 years like you have."

"But you seemed to have so much fun pretending to be me!" Exclaimed Katherine. "Did you ever wonder why you had to pretend to be me, and you couldn't be you?"

Elena was speechless. She actually didn't know.

"Oh, they didn't tell you?!" Katherine laughed. "Guess Elijah hasn't been so noble and honest with you after all, and may I point out something? He was always honest with me."

"Elena?" Said Elijah, getting to the living room, ready to go. Everyone else had left while Elena was talking to Katherine. "She's here, isn't she?" He asked, sitting beside her. Elena turned to face him.

"Yes, she is. And she said you and your siblings weren't honest with me when you told me to pretend to be her. It wasn't just because the vampires of New Orleans thought you and her were together, was it?"

Elijah touched her face. She leaned into his touch. It was like magnetic, she couldn't pull herself away even if she wanted to.

"Rebekah brought you here, not only because the vampires of New Orleans thought me and her were together, but also because… Katerina and I used to reign over this city in the past. For a while, when Niklaus was away shorting some curse business, he'd be away for a decade, a decade and a half. I found her, brought her here. and made her my queen. We used to rule over the quarter, and she was revered. That's why Marcel had so much affection for her. When my brother came back, he daggered me for months for it. It wasn't until a few months before Mikael found us that we left the city for good."

Elena knew Elijah had other women before her, she knew he'd probably dated all of the supernatural before her, she had been with two vampires before him, but to know he had been with two women who looked exactly like her was something else.

She didn't know she had been in silence for a while until Elijah called her again.

"Please say something, my love." He pulled her against his body, making her sit on his lap. She put her arms on his chest, not knowing if it was to keep some distance from him or to ground herself.

"You… you fell in love with Tatia and Katherine, and now with me, and the three of us look exactly alike." She tried to move, but he held her down. He was not letting her get away until they sort this out. If he could see Katherine, he'd kill her with his bare hands for doing this.

"I thought that what I had with Tatia and Katherine," He said the last name the way she said it, knowing that if he said Katerina would be worse. "was love. I was trying to find something, some light that I couldn't find until you. I was looking for you, all along. You were the one that I wanted. I fell in love with you for you my love. Not because you look like Tatia or Katherine. I've never touched either of them like I touch you, I've never made love to either one of them like I make love to you. I choose you Elena, and I'll always choose you. You said you found something worth living for here, I found it all the way back in Mystic Falls when I first laid my eyes on you. I would never give you to Klaus. You already had me wrapped around your heart when I saw you. I loved you then, and I love you now, and I'll never stop loving you." And to seal his words, he kissed her.

He kissed her as if he never wanted to let her go, pouring all his love and adoration into that single kiss.

Elijah was in love with Elena and it felt as if time had frozen as they embraced each other in that passionate kiss. He wanted her to know just how much he loved her with this one single moment. His lips eagerly tasted hers as if it was his first time, and still, his heart was pounding faster than ever before.

His arms moved around her waist, pulling her closer to him as they explored new depths of passion together. He felt like he was in another world, and he never wanted the moment to end.

In this single moment, his only goal was to love her unconditionally. With each passing second, he was more certain of his feelings and knew that she was the one for him. He could feel it in his heart and soul, and with each kiss, he was overcome with emotions of joy, love, and adoration. The kiss was unlike any other he had experienced with her, the connection they had going beyond anything he was ever able to imagine.

When they parted, Elijah kissed down her neck and smelled her scent, the most exquisite he had ever felt. Leaning his head back, he let his eyes turn black, his veins popped up and his fangs came down. Looking at him, wanting to taste him, knowing Katherine was watching Elena had an idea.

"He is mine, Katherine." She said, letting her eyes turn black, her veins pop up and her fangs come down. Simultaneously, both of them bit each other's neck, drinking blood from each other. It was true, Elijah had drunk vampire blood before, but never from Katherine. He felt Elena's blood coming down his throat, the most delicious blood he ever tasted and couldn't live without.

Elena felt Elijah's blood inside of her and felt powerful. Not only did she feel that, but she felt loved and all the admiration he had over her. She knew he'd never let her go, like he had promised before, no matter what happened.

When they were done, both took great pride in the marks they left on each other's necks.

Elena caressed Elijah's face.

"I'm sorry." She said.

"What for, my love?"

"For being so insecure, and letting her get between us."

"It's not your fault. You were not being insecure, honey. You just wanted to know what happened in the past, and that's okay. I don't blame you for wanting to know, I understand. And I love you."

"Thank you, for not letting me go."

"I keep my promises." He said, smiling.

She smiled, and gently kissed him.

Sometime later, Klaus and Caroline showed up in the compound with Hayley, who had passed out, Genevieve following them.

"What is she doing here? What happened?" Asked Elijah, moving to stand in front of Elena, while Klaus put Hayley on top of the dinner table.

"Bonnie and Davina were kidnapped, and Hayley passed out in the middle of the funeral." Replied Caroline. "We need a witch, and Genevieve was the one who helped us."

"Not out of the goodness of her heart." Said Elena, holding Elijah's hand.

"Don't worry Elena, she knows if something happens to my heir, she dies." Said Klaus in a threatening tone.

Genevieve started to recite an incantation over Hayley, who after a few minutes, woke up sweating in fear.

"Klaus, Klaus, he tried to kill me!" She said. "He said he wouldn't let any 'spawns from the bastard' walk the earth"

"Now Mikael wants to kill my daughter? Not even dead he'll leave me alone!" Shouted Klaus, punching the wall. Caroline trembled and let out a gasp in surprise. That immediately disarmed Klaus.

"Oh love, I'm so sorry."He said, calming down, and going to her. He held her face between his hands. "I'm not that monster anymore, love."

"You never were." She assured him, giving him a weak smile, and kissing him lightly. "You're not the villain, Klaus."

He smiled, turning to Genevieve, holding Caroline close to him.

"Genevieve, I need you to make me moonlight rings. If you do, I won't kill you. If you don't, I'll have my day walkers kill you and your coven"

Genevieve agreed to make the rings, while the stones were provided by Francesca on short notice. But that didn't work as well as they expected. Genevieve gave Francesca the stones, which in turn killed her security guard, her action being repeated by all of her family. They were werewolves. Elijah had Elena hide in the crypt since the venom couldn't kill him and he'd kill every last one of the wolves. That was the night Marcel decided to attack the Mikaelsons. Since the moonlight rings took its energy from Klaus, he was significantly weaker but still put on a hell of a fight. The wolves killed all of Marcel's nightwalkers, while Elijah killed all of the wolves.

Caroline was locked inside of Klaus's office until she heard him cry out in pain.

She broke through the window and ran to him, only to find him beaten up and weak inside Sophie's bar.

"Klaus!" She screamed, running to him.

"Caroline, love." He said. "We were doublecrossed."

"This is war Klaus, what did you think?" She said, sitting down on the floor, and dragging him to her lap. "You need your strength. We need you Klaus, your family needs you, your daughter needs you."

"There's no blood around here love." He said, closing his eyes.

Caroline bit on her left arm and offered it to him.

"It's okay." She said. "I want you to drink from me, love," She said. He looked at her, and her wrist. Not wasting his chance, he brought her wrist to his mouth and started to drink her life force, not only feeling their bond going stronger but also his own life returning to him. The possibility of being a better father, a better partner for Caroline, perhaps one day take her as his wife.

He drank until he was satisfied, and Caroline wasn't stopping him.

When he was done, he kissed the wound on her wrist, feeling himself getting healed. He stood up with her help and hugged her.

"I love you, Caroline." He said, and kissed her forehead.

"I love you too." She said smiling.

He held her hand and they walked out of the bar, at the same time as Elijah was getting Elena out of the crypt. That's when they heard it. Hayley screamed.

[vivianbernadetteaurora]

Aaron carter

Alan Carter who's gone out with many different girls and he is very toxic himself, and he loves himself to act that way and who knows he's got many family issues with his father and his mother I do definitely believe though Family trauma on a bigger level If you see this film I think it's called Max and Harry Or something like that if you put it into YouTube is literally based on Lightly his relationship with neck Which in the film is incestuous.

the Aaron character from such a young age Just Is coming onto his brother and other people And those too much for his age sexually so he improving that he's being groomed In real life he said Leslie his elder sister one of his older sisters Because he's a trend He said that she molested him but the older sister said it's the other way around And there is you never know what to play but And I don't like to invalidate Um someone's plumber but if you look back onto the videos of Aaron we have to agree that he lied a lot about things he did and it was proven one minute he'd say he was like reading the next minute he said he was Swedish And then he came out saying that everyone my family was blue eyes is a crazier ones So are you neck BJ And Leslie Which is weird now because now the youngest and the oldest of the only two left that family definitely had some Trauma of Could be lifetime death of it and the mum is now lost three of her children imagine What am I feel like So at the same time I really wish when things bied up into neck or Orange you want to stop because after Loop it's like what can you do Won't can you do you can't support someone like that and then same happen with Brooke Hogan She didn't deserve that and she got into it the Florida man like I'm not from America but when they talk about Florida G's guys he's crazy .

But when he tells these stories about me and Beyonce and Britney Spears, They are all true The sad truth is The sad truth is is the fact that Aaron Carter reminds me of CoreyHaim, Which by all accounts came to Hollywood from Canada, Like a lot of big stars do.

By the end of his life He was living quite a simple life in a block of Flats In California I kind of out the way He will make girls boys whatever and he would like from time to time be on TMZ but he did not die from drugs he died from complications that made from drugs But sometimes guys we just don't have the answer Healing to working child. I do not believe that child actors should do much work and I believe they should be around someone who loves them at all times If you see these Studios and you hear the same stories you want to keep your child safe We will see Shirley Temple We've had the Corey Felburns We I've had Paris Hilton who is going to Provo Canyon where they treated her really badly like an MK Ultra victim We have had the time full of Britney Spears and them trying to take her down same with Michael Jackson They just struggling him up and made him as a full guy, And had a family that loved him So Kanye West is one I'm on the fence by the mirror and I've always been the biggest Kanye West fan ever I've had all his albums everything not into his clothes so much but I just respect him as a person But this film of his whole new wife I'm not too sure there's something weird going on there and I don't like it she is either seeming like a traffic to victim To the sense of her just being his human doll And Kanye obviously has mental health problems and he's trying to deal with that but when you have a mind like that that takes you to all different spaces it can be absolutely exhausting for the the person who has it and the person who lives with it so You end up with like three people in a relationship.

So to all the card to children So to all of them I send love resting power rest in peace Leslie Carter, Bobby Jane , Their father also And obviously Aaron who died around Halloween a couple years ago Peace body And rest to lose people and love Releasing so many people to drugs

Therefore

[levil0vesyou]

i'm so sorry for that monday production story, i hope it doesn't affect you as much now. adults really do say some wild shit and don't even realize how damaging it can be. my dad would point out all the broken and abandoned houses and dirty cars on the street and say they were mine, and i always replied they were his, and we'd start bickering, and then laughed it off, and i only thought about it recently and have no idea why he would say such a thing? i think it subconsciously got ingrained that i'm not good with housekeeping and generally don't deserve nice things (sorry for trauma dumping). just, adults are so weird with their kids and don't realize the damage

(ask is in reference to my tags on this post)

(there's more trauma in this reply btw, fair warning. under a cut bc long)

Thank you, it actually means a lot!! I wasn't even sure if anyone was gonna read it lmao, tag rambling sometimes feels like just straight up screaming into the void lmao

Hate to disappoint, but its effect on me has been increasing for years 😎👍 It's so weird how you can have shit like that lie dormant for ages until you one day go "hang on" and then it starts eating away at you

It also goes really well with her "Niemand wünscht sich ein behindertes Kind" (lit. "Nobody wishes for a disabled child" but can more accurately be translated as "Nobody wants a disabled child") which she only said once and not even about me but basically one shotted me and has been squatting in my brain evilly ever since. Top ten fucked up sentences to completely devastate your disabled child, number 4 will surprise you 😎👍

(I actually did bring that one to her attention years later but she dismissed any effects it had on me on grounds she didn't mean it that way 😎👍)

Yea, that's some bullshit tbh. Like, that's not the kinda shit a father should be saying to their kid, like bro this is an impressionable young mind in your care who trusts you blindly, not your fucking sibling or highschool bestie you can shoot the shit with. Parents give like zero shits what they say to their children, it's wild. And very concerning sometimes

And it would probably be possible to heal that shit more easily if they actually recognised that, maybe even apologised, but at least in my mum's case, she categorically refuses to acknowledge any instances of one of her children being negatively impacted by something she's said or done if we're the ones bringing it to her attention.

Like, I think she recognises some of the stuff she's said and done as not great but any attempt to amend that list will result in her "oh so I'm a horrible person and at fault for all your problems and you refuse to take responsibility hmmm?" spiel 😔

For the record tho I wanna say I don't think she's a horrible mum and especially when it came to material well being/physical health/etc she really did try her best and I could've had it much worse. She was an underpaid nurse raising three children (two of them disabled) mostly on her own while also caring for different sick elderly relatives over the years.

It's a miracle she made it work and while I do think some stuff was unnecessary, some of especially the later stuff that was more affective (not like hitting or anything, the only parental figure who ever hit me was my grandma who did it exactly one time tho even that took many years to process which is how I know "it's okay to hit your kids" ppl are full of shit) which I can far more easily understand & forgive. That said, if your own child says "[thing you did or said] had a negative impact on me" maybe believe them lmao

...yea this is a bit too long huh

[littlekiara96]

Meet Rose, my HSR OC :D

Her kit is based on life-stealing through DoTs and she's part of the Stellaron Hunters :D

I'd love to get asks about her (anything, really) ^^

I've tried to make her kit not too OP because she is meant to be a 4-star but huuuuh... Not sure I managed that...

[Kit, Eidolons (titles only) and voicelines under the cut]

— Ability

Basic ATK: Flying Thorns

Shoots 3 needles out of her umbrella to one enemy target, with a 70% base chance of inflicting them with Wind Shear for 3 turns, up to 5 stacks. Each DoT applied life-steals for 30% of her max health and 10% of her attack.

Skill: Lovely Sacrifice

Heals all allies by downing her own health by 30% of her max health. Each ally receives 20% of her max health.

Ultimate: Sweet Revenge

A blast that hits up to 3 enemy targets, life-stealing for 70% of her max health and 30% of her attack.

Talent: Unbearable Loss

Revives one ally per battle at full health but she sacrifices 70% of her Max HP in the process. She cannot go lower than 1 HP.

Technique: Delicate Touch

Attacks her target, applying one stack of Wind Shear on all enemies at the start of the battle.

— Eidolons

Under the Umbrella

Means to an End

Gentleness Aplenty

Irreplaceable Ire

Love Abounds

— Character Lines

First Meeting: “Hello, darling~ Don't fret; the name's Rose and I'm merely here to help you. Do tell me if anything hurts. If you behave, I might even kiss it better~”

Greeting: “How have you been since last time? Tell me everything!”

Parting: “Aww, don't worry~ I'm not going anywhere without you.”

About Self: “Oh? I’m not all that special! I just take care of the people dear to me, and I make sure nothing bad happens to them. Just what any good friend would do, right?”

About Self - Pendant: “You wish to see…? I'm sorry, but it's very precious to me. It's… a souvenir of sorts.”

Chat - Flowers: "I can't help but like the smell of roses… It reminds me of… old times…"

Chat - Love: "I say I love everyone, but in fact… There is one person I despise. Who? I'm not telling you~"

Hobbies: "I mostly read whenever I have nothing better to do. Do you know about a romance writer from Jarilo-VI? I just love her work!"

Annoyances: “Anyone who hurts my friends, be it physically or not… shall face the consequences.”

Something to Share: “Isn’t life just so wonderful? All the little things that make up the universe… It’s a beautiful, chaotic miracle, don’t you think?”

Knowledge: "Have you heard about the Knights of Beauty? They are quite the interesting bunch. I wonder what they are up to, nowadays…"

About Sam: "Oh, funny Sammy? He's a bit all over the place, but he's always there when I need help with anything. Sometimes, it's like he pops out of nowhere… I whacked him once with my umbrella reflexively. He asked for compensation. What was it? Oh, hum… Heehee~"

About Silver Wolf: "She's a good kid, once you explain things to her like it's a game. She has a passion for high scores and such, so she just needs a feeling of competition and she'll do anything for you!"

About Kafka: "Aaah~ I always go shopping with Kaykay! She has impeccable taste in fashion, and she even helped me train with my umbrella!"

About Blade: "I wish Bladie would stop telling me not to heal him. I don't even want his thanks, I just want him to… Ah! Don't tell him I called him Bladie!!"

About Elio: "Now, now~ If you think I will tell you anything about my boss… You're dead wrong."

About Argenti: “Wh- Why would you want me to talk about him?! N-No, I am not blushing! Who taught you to be so rude to a lady?”

— Combat Lines

Battle Begins - Weakness Break: “Careful not to prick yourself.”

Battle Begins - Danger Alert: “That's a thorny situation…”

Turn Begins I: “Time to reap what you sowed!”

Turn Begins II: “Let’s pluck some petals!”

Turn Idling: “Is there a problem, dear?”

Basic ATK: “Stay still!”

Skill: “Please, don't look…”

Hit by Light Attack: “Just a prick.”

Hit by Heavy Attack: “That one hurt!”

Ultimate: Activate: “Do not interfere.”

Ultimate: Unleash: “The constant flow of change in all that exists… How poetic!” - x2 “The flow of change… Wonderful!”

Talent: "Not on my watch!"

Downed: “Should've been… better…”

Return to Battle: “Did you miss me?”

Health Recovery: “How sweet of you~”

Technique: “Here's a gift~”

Battle Won: “Does anyone need a magic kiss?”

Treasure Opening: “Oh! How nice~”

Successful Puzzle-Solving: “Keeping one's mind sharp~”

Enemy Target Found: “Beware. That flower has thorns.”

Returning to Town: “We can rest whenever you need to.”

[luv-eddiediaz]

This may not make a lot of sense at the moment, because if I stop to gather my thoughts, I will lose my thoughts. And I don’t usually do this, but my 911 friend doesn’t believe in Buddie, and normally, I’m totally cool just reading everyone else’s takes and keeping to myself, but something about this episode is sticking with me and I just can’t. 

First, Buck’s recovery being the secondary story line makes absolute sense - I don’t know if I expected it to be so equally shown, and I damn sure didn’t expect there to be so much Eddie (or at least to have the impact he did), because, like there didn’t need to be? Obviously, Eddie would show up to check on his friend, but he could have easily been one of the scheduled faces behind the door (which, every time that door opened, I was expecting him), but no, he never knocked. Instead, our boy full on ran away to Eddie’s house when he was overwhelmed from all the company that wouldn’t leave him alone and then fell asleep on his couch in half a second, because he couldn’t fall asleep on his own (I blame the pretty pillows - they looked scratchy). 

So, then Buck asks about being shot, and holy shit, I was not expecting that either. And I know, I know, we all held our breath waiting for him to take a line from all of our fan fictions and say I remember seeing you. But he didn’t, and I think I know why: If 911 is going to do the Buddie thing, they’ve made it pretty clear they will not do it until both of these men are healed and in perfect condition for one another, and so, our newly therapized and slightly wiser Eddie would realize that Buck looking a little like the mess that is so obviously inside his brain while sitting lost at his kitchen table is not the right time to make an admission about that. It’s not the time for Eddie to hint at his feelings lest he give Buck more to worry about. 

And can I just rant here for a minute? Because, like I wish sometimes the writers would let Eddie take off the white gloves he’s always handling Buck with and just drop the damn hints and then when he’s thoroughly adorable and confused, grab him by those broad shoulders and kiss him. I get that in order to be in a healthy relationship, we ourselves have to be healthy, but come on! If they’re going to keep collecting traumas like baseball cards, they’re never really going to achieve true, perfect health.

Anyway, for the first time, maybe ever, I felt pretty good about the Buddie of it all. I can’t put my finger on it exactly, maybe it was just because the scenes we got took me by surprise in a way the many others we’ve seen of them haven’t. 

[id-rather-be-an-outsider]

My Ex

summary: Mikaela Reid reflects on a past relationship that damaged her psyche.

word count: 620

a/n: this was a very fun challenge suggested by one of our amazing group members! the song I picked is called Trust, listen here! Without further ado, enjoy!

“not only that, but you fucked with her head // you broke her trust and she wish she was dead”

I trudge through the woods and reflect on the words of a fellow survivor. He’d said, “You don’t trust people, yet you’re so eager to please people and teach.” It was Adam who’d said it. He was right, I suppose. I don’t trust people. But how can I? I can’t even trust myself.

Imposter syndrome practically lives in me. Before I came to the Fog, I told my best friend, Julian, that I felt like a hack. That I wasn’t the storyteller I thought I was. That my interest for all things strange, and the beauty I found in the darkness was just me overcompensating. Even now, with the physical evidence right in front of me, I still can’t trust if teaching the other survivors my methods is me wanting to share just to help, or if somehow, I’m secretly being selfish. How? I don’t know how. But it feels like it.

The self-doubt had started when I was younger, and worsened when I lost my dad, but as time heals all wounds, so too does it heal a broken spirit. Except mine didn’t. Not until I moved in with Julian after a bad breakup. He nursed me back to health. Not physically. Emotionally. My ex was… a scumbag, to say the least. He cheated on me more times than I can count on my own two hands, and even when I had the evidence right there, he could convince me otherwise.

Convince me I was just jealous, that I was crazy, that I was insecure and didn’t want him to leave me because my dad was the only person who loved me and he was gone. The fights were full of him screaming at me, me crying, me begging him to please stop lying to me, that we could work through things if he’d just be honest and work on himself, and he’d tell me that everyone thought I was crazy and I should’ve realized that I was the problem when nobody came to help me. That I must be the one cheating, otherwise why would I be so paranoid about him? And somehow, I always found myself in the guilty position, even when I knew I’d done nothing wrong. I found myself apologizing for being upset with his actions. One day, I couldn’t take it anymore.

I started having… thoughts. Scary thoughts. Not thoughts like the stories I would tell in high school, but… really dark ones. About how easy it would be to disappear. That no one would notice, or even care. It terrified me. But Julian was my light at the end of the tunnel. He sent me a text, and all it said was, “Are u ok? I’m worried abt u. Luv u bestie, please text me back <3” Something told me to call him. So I did, when my ex wasn’t home to hear. He was always jealous of Julian, no matter the fact that me and Julian were like siblings. “Hello? Mik? Is that you?” Julian had said. I broke down in tears, telling him everything, and he said we would come get me.

I miss Julian. Adam reminds me of him, in a way. Nothing physical, they look very different from each other. But the tenderness they use to talk about life lessons and hard truths is the same. I’m not so standoffish as to never speak to anyone, like Najma is. She only has one friend here. But I probably don’t interact with people as much as I should. Nevertheless, I’m glad I can call Adam a friend. He reminds me of home, and I need that here. Even if I can’t trust myself, I can at least trust him.

[starryskys-posts]

My name is Skylar Starr Lima 💖 I'll always be open & honest about my experiences in life. I'm such a strong resilient person who has been through a lot of tough times. I've had plenty of truama in the past but I recently went to Eloria AAA not because I have a drug or alcohol problem but because I had a mental break down. I was admitted there voluntarily so I could grasp what was happening in my life & going on in my own head. I don't think that's something to be ashamed of either. I remember being so scared going into an unknown place not knowing anyone else other than knowing myself. I seen this all as a lesson & it actually restored my faith in GOD, whoever he, she or what they may be. At first it was a place full of scary people until I got to know them & it was such a different environment I've never been used to before. I prayed all the time for safety & protection. I really didn't want to be there in the beginning & thought it was a waste of my precious time. I was in so much pain with a ongoing medical condition at the time that wasn't being treated up until now so the experience wasn't easy for me. I had to have so many checks done for my physical health such as MRI's, blood tests, regular obs done & meetings. I wasn't aloud my phone & had to document everything in my own notepad. Literally, I was just a tiny fish in a pond of big fish.

I would sleep with my daughters teddy, constantly ask for the ipad codes, sing in the shower, eat all the time, do art, read the bible & annoy all the nurse's with all my questions. I'm sure they got sick of me.

Some of the people I met inside there became my inspiration to help others with mental health problems. I met all da boyz. They became my friends & we bonded over art, music & food. They all had my back & I had theirs. We were all from different walks of life but we're all one in the same in there & it didn't matter what you looked like or how much money you had. One other lady in there even reminded me of my mother. I still wish her well. I even wish the lady who kept trying to steal my make up, bra & clothes well. I remember telling her she didn't have to take she could just ask & I would give. That really changed my own perspective of people & why people do the things they do. Hearing them say I helped them with just a smile or some kind words. I was even amazed how my art would calm the mind of my boy Danny. He even hung it all up on the walls & would show me when I came back from my 'vape & phone leave'. Michael ( different one lol ) helped me heal my broken heart & Vanilla would share his smokes & have a chat. Peter helped me seek help for my physical health. Mark would bring in chocolates for us all. It helped me get through my own days. Da boys aren't bad or corrupt, they've just been in a system that failed them & wasn't made easy for them. We just all helped each other out of a dark place. Cracking jokes over cheese & crackers at supper. We all have rights, you can decide who you are & who you want to be no matter where you come from or the tough trials you have faced in life. Just need to have manners and take ownership of who you are & what you want. Even if I helped only one person during my time. (I know I tried to help more) I am proud of it all. Even the psychiatrists, nurses & doctors became like a community all the way to the people who served food or helped me meditated with sensory lights. Every person & everything mattered to me on a deeper level because everyone had a reason to be there or a job to be doing. So now I am going to be furthering my studys next year in peer work for mental health because these people deserve someone who listens & cares about them no matter what situation they are in. I'll never forget one of the boys calling me when I got home to tell me he missed me & how much "better" I was then him ( not true my brah ! ) Our lives & thoughts truly do matter. I do not consider myself 'mentally ill' or believe I should be locked up inside a ward because the world thinks I'm a little different. I am who I am & I am not an addict but I still have to cope with my toxic addictive tendencies & I feel I understand things much more clearer now.

I know what I want to do now. I'm a great mother, friend & business owner, I have rights to my own body & what medications I take. I have rights to make my own path & shape my own future. I have rights to learn from my mistakes. & I hope these lads never forget how important they are to me.