#wish you had cared enough to not hurt me so

[hyperfixiation-station]

Behind Enemy Lines Pt.1

CW: Torture, Canon-typical violence, talk of derealization, disassociation Summary: You were a friendly medic, captured years ago and held prisoner, forced to do do the bidding of your captors. Years later, a man by the name of Ghost is dragged in and changes the trajectory of your life. A/N: I had severe ADHD, and i am unmedicated rn, and it makes it really hard to work on things unless I get the hyperfocused drive for it, so I'm sorry I'm so bad at making the other parts to my fics. Know that I will never abandon them. it just might take me a while. idea part 2

You fought back, at first. Way back when you first got captured, taken from your base camp and dragged through miles and miles of harsh terrain, blindfolded and bound. A medic you were, yes. But your team had trained you with the best of them. You spent the whole time trying to escape, kicking and screaming until they bound your legs and gagged you. You spent the first month of captivity refusing to talk to them, hissing and spitting and pretending their punches didn’t hurt. But it didn't take you long to realize it was better to cooperate, or to at least be civil. Civility got you less broken bones, less pain, more rations, more sleep. Cooperation didn’t come till later, when you finally realized your team wasn't coming for youthey were dead but you didn't know that.

Surprisingly, the whole mouth-getting-sewn-shut didn't happen till a couple years in... they were torturing someone, a man who said he had kids and a wife at home, whose only wish was that they left something recognizable of him so they could get some closure. You begged them to stop. Begged them to stop when his wounds became too numerous to count, too much for you to handle. Begged because you started to care for him as he told you about his son and daughter, how they want him home for Christmas(You didn't have the heart to tell him Christmas was 6 days ago) Told them that he would die no matter what you did if they continued. Well, they didn't stop, and he did die... and you found yourself ringing in the new year by being strapped to a table.

“We warned you to stop talking with him.” They said as they clamped the metal shut over your forehead and chin, holding you in place. “We told you to not get attached, but since you can’t seem to do it on your own, we’ll help you.” The feeding tube came 2 weeks later, shoved up your nose when they realized you were starving...they couldn't lose their favorite medic of course.

You stopped paying attention to the passage of time after that, spent most of your days drifting in and out of reality, moving through the motions with a practiced ease. And it would have remained that way, if it wasn’t for a man in a skull mask with a team- a family- looking for him. 

Your first introduction to him ended up with you getting a broken nose. Per usual, you were shoved into the cell, medical kit in hand, ready to fix up whatever damage your captors had done the their poor prisoner.

The mask he had been wearing when you saw him dragged in was gone, and he had a gash that went all the way through his cheek that would need stitching up. You pull out your equipment, moving slowly towards his bleeding face. 

he headbutted you the moment you got close enough for him to reach, and the crunch of bone and the gush of warm blood followed, not that you noticed. You were still in that dreamlike state, not quite tether to reality in the way you should be. You barely noticed when they tranqued him, and the only reason you didn't finish his stitches is because you passed out too(it’s hard to breathe through a bloody, broken nose)

The next time you approach more carefully, but he’s no trouble. Mostly because they left him completely strapped to the table this time. Today was a rare day, a time when you  could actually feel your feet on the ground rather than just see them. You feel bad as you wipe him down, your eyes flicking over the myriad of scars on his body. What’s one more you think to yourself as you get to work stitching a stab wound to his thigh. Just barely missed the artery here…that could have been bad news. Okay tie it off and- there we go. I think the only other thing that need to- oh, is he…talking to me? I should probably pay attention to that.

“-here?” His voice is gravely, though you suppose yours would be too after being tortured. He stares at you expectantly, and you shrug. You don’t know what he said, and even if you did, you couldn’t answer. You just move to his wrist, snapping the bone back in place. He inhales sharply, but doesn’t make an actual sound, which surprises you. But you don’t dwell on it, wrapping a bandage around his arm and moving to exit the room. 

“Y’ no’ g’nna lemme off?” His voice sounds, “they said y’ would.” You spin around, staring at him. You're not stupid. And even if your…bosses had said that, you still wouldn’t do it. Being trapped in a room with a man who is at least a foot taller than you and looks like he could kill a man with his glare? No thank you. 

You take a step back, heading towards the door. The man lets out a sound you would barely qualify as a laugh. “Sm’rt then.” He says to himself, “No’ gonna be that easy.” 

The next time you go in, you can't help but wonder what they want from this man. By now they usually would have killed him off. Oh well, not your job to wonder. You clean him up, splinting the fingers they had broke when he talks to you again.

"why don't y' let me die?" He says, voice just as gravely as before, "Put me outa m' misery?" You don't respond, just keep taping his hand. IT's something you ad asked yourself, right at the beginning. It would be kinder for you to just let your patients die. But you couldn't do it. Partially because you were punished anytime someone died before your captors wanted them to, but also because you were a medic. YOu were there to heal. You couldn't stomach letting someone die by your hand.

"Answer me!" The man snarls, bringing you back to the present, "For god's sake y' never talk, fuckin' mute." You don't respond, of course. Just finish your task and leave him to his thoughts.

He’s angrier after that time, you’ve noticed. The few times you're actually present, he’s fighting you. Usually not with words, but he bucks and doesn’t hold still. He’s tried to grab your medical supplies countless times, and one time you actually had to be pulled out because he jerked his arm while you were stitching him and somehow managed to drive the needle into your own hand. The few times he does actually yell at you, you’re usually not paying attention. You can catch words like “Dishonorable”  and “Disgraceful”. You aren’t entirely sure of the context of the words, but you can guess. You’ve treated enough prisoners who think that you are the world's worst human being, a blight to the medical field, to guess what he's trying to tell you. 

It's funny though, this man so full of hate. Because, for the first time in goodness knows how long, your feet are on the ground, and your head is level. Something about this man, his angry, uncrushed demeanor, even after weeks of torture, stirs emotion in you that you can’t quite identify. And maybe you should be grateful, thankful your head is on right, but you're not. You so desperately want to go back to that place of apathy and detachment, where your emotions weren’t so strong, were the pains of mishealed bones and poorly healed scars didn’t plague your waking moments. 

Or maybe it wasn’t the man- The Ghost, as you found out he was called. Maybe it was the fact that something in the air had changed. The air was electric, charged with tension so thick you could feel it even alone in your cot. They were watching you, you could tell. Could feel their eyes tracking your movements in a way they hadn’t since first giving you freedom to move around. 

You're not sure why. It’s not like you have anyone to go home to. You were an only child, and your parents had died long before you reached 18. All you had was your team, a team that had seemingly abandoned you. So why would you leave? There was nowhere to go. And yet they watched you. Was it because you were becoming more aware, more grounded then you had been in a long while? Was it the man, Ghost, who had them on edge? 

The answer came two days later. You were in Ghost's cell again, desperately packing gauze into a gaping hole on his side. You don’t know what had happened, but for the first time in years you were dragged from your cell, your captors muttering under their breath in a language you still didn’t understand as they thrust you into his cell. Blood was everywhere. Your best guess was that Ghost had been struggling and an instrument had slipped and gouged out a hole in his side. So here you are, packing gauze into the wound as you try to figure out what to do to keep him alive with your rudimentary supplies. 

You pack another piece of gauze in just as the door goes flying open. Men, dressed in black, wearing the same mask Ghost was, come bursting in. 

“Get back!” The one in the front yells at you, gun pointed in your face. You shake your head, hands pressed against Ghost’s wound. 

“Now!” You make a protesting noise, trying to gesture with your chin. The man looks down, eyes widening. 

“Aw shit- are you the medic?” You nod almost desperately. The man looks at you again, staring at your hands. They are shaking, pressed against the wound as you try to keep Ghost from bleeding out. 

“Fix him.” The man snaps. You shake your head and look up at the man, trying to communicate that you need more supplies. 

“Use your words.” The man gabs the gun at you, indicating he wants you to get on with it. You stomp your foot, shaking your head again. 

“What, what's that supposed..…you can’t speak, can you?” You nod, glad he finally got it. The man groans, lowering his gun.

“You’re coming with us, but you make one wrong move, and I mean one, I will put a bullet through your brain before you can even speak. Got it?” He gestures to the other two men with him, and together you lift Ghost up, carrying him out to safety.

A/N- anyways, here's part one. Sorry if it disappoints anyone

tags, sorry if i missed any:

@redzluvvesage @just-a-harmless-potato-05  @vesna-the-spring @princess312 @norsehorseofcourse-blog @bonniperinktrance @soggywafflezz  @littlebunie @sirbonesly @havoc973 @mommymilkers0526 @thegreyjoyed @pinkiliciousgunp0int @poopoobuttsy @darcellethedreamer @kamote-kuneho

[imujings]

Talk Talk by Charli xcx gives me so much vernon vibes!! every time i listen to it i just make up a little scenario with him in it! CONGRATS ON 100 FOLLOWERS!!💗

but we've been keepin' this a secret and you're surrounded by friends and i'm just wonderin' what they know

wc <1k. warnings some cursing, party scene, suggestive (mentions of mutual masturbation, allusions to sex lol), petnames (babe), situationship. jay’s musings thank u ml :,) here is buzz cut vernon for u!!

The bass of the music makes your ears ring, vibrations reverberating through your nerves down to the bone. It’s blinding here in the club, the neon lights hurting your eyes and forcing you to squint through the heavy smoke filled air. Your drink sloshes around in your cup unsettlingly.

Your outfit feels a little bit too tight, like you can’t get enough air, and you try to steady your breath. There was no more time for feeling self-conscious. You were on a mission tonight—no matter how much you usually hated this kind of scene, you were determined to see it through.

Or rather, see him through.

You hear him before you spot him. It’s embarrassing, really, how your body reacts to the stimuli that is his presence. The music gets a little duller, the lights a little dimmer, and your senses become heightened. Laughter that could belong to no one other than Chwe Hansol reaches your ears, clear and resolute.

He’s standing around people you can only assume are his friends—there’s so many of them it only makes the situation even more overwhelming. One in particular is leaning against Hansol, his arms wrapped around the man’s bicep, and something in your heart stirs.

Flashes of green alight your vision, and only by blinking do you realize it’s caused by the club lights rather than the jealousy curling in on itself inside of you.

Hansol and you were, for lack of a better term, talking.

You two had met on a dating app a little while ago, swapping movie recommendations and indulging in jokes about how the world has gone to shit. Conversation between you two was easy, light; he never made anything feel forced and it left you reeling every time a notification popped up on your lock screen.

However, what did leave you frustrated was his poor attempts at hiding that he was making any excuse possible not to see you.

You asked to grab some coffee downtown at a new place that opened up? He was coincidentally quitting coffee for awhile. You wanted to go see the screening of a newly released movie? He already made plans to see it with some of his other friends. Every offer to meet up in person was shot down, not unkindly, by the man.

And quite frankly, you were tired of it.

You wished—no, craved—that he would just talk to you about what he was so seemingly afraid of. It was evident that he harbored enough care for you to send you updates about his life, from a reel he found funny to what retirement plan he wants to follow.

That, and he would FaceTime you during after hours, spent from long days at his work but still awake enough to hear you whine about goodness knows what. There were even nights that ended in you gasping for breath, your fingers sticky from your release, Hansol’s own groans echoing softly through the speakers of your phone.

“I wish I was there with you,” you murmured once after such an intimate moment. “To touch you. Make you feel as good as you make me feel.”

He was silent on the end of the line for a breath, before his voice, still shaky and low intoned, came through the call. “One day. Promise, yeah?”

That was maybe two weeks before tonight. Hansol, of course, then rejected your attempt to ask him out to dinner, saying he was out of the state at the time visiting family.

Convenient, wasn’t it?

When you heard that he was attending a party this weekend, one hosted by someone you recognized as a mutual friend, you practically begged your bestfriend to let you tag along.

So, here you were, looking dumbfounded at the man only a few feet in front of you.

His buzz cut looked better on him than it did in the pictures. You knew he had gotten one, him excitedly sending you selfies of before and after—it was the most wound up you’d seen him since the initial conversation you two had about Star Wars. But you didn’t think that his new hairstyle, paired with a silver chain and thin white tank, would instantly make heat churn in your lower stomach.

Focus, you remind yourself.

Taking a deep breath to recollect yourself, you walk with purpose towards him. His friends take notice of you first, their eyes widening, and the one that’s wrapped around Hansol’s arm backs away slightly.

His eyes meet yours, and time stands still.

“Hello,” you drawl, leaning into his personal space as you blink up at him with what you hope is a charming smile. “Fancy seeing you here.”

Hansol’s mouth is parted, eyebrows raised, his eyes drinking in your club outfit and the way the light reflects in your dilated pupils. He swallows. Hard.

“Hey,” he says, arm reaching around your waist and giving your hip a squeeze. “Didn’t know you’d be here.”

Your lips curl into a smirk and you slowly trace a fingernail along his knuckles. “Yeah. Heard of it and wanted to see what the commotion was all about.”

“Not much commotion until now.” Hansol’s hand doesn’t stop his ministrations, making you hum as your body moves on its own to press against his.

Your eyes catch the way his jaw tightens imperceptibly. A giggle slips past you.

“I’ve been wanting to finally meet you in person,” you pinch his bicep. “You keep escaping my traps.”

Hansol’s eyes, wild and wide, flicker around to see if anyone is watching you two. When his gaze meets yours again, it’s dark.

“Well, I’m here now. Wanna get out of here?”

You toss your head back into the air and laugh, a sound that makes Hansol tighten his grip on you and grin at.

“To do what? Talk about why you’re avoiding me?” you tease.

He leans in close, breath tickling your ear.

“Nah, babe. We’ll talk later. Gotta show you just how lucky I am first.”

want to queue a song?

[traumadumpwriter]

JJ Maybank X Reader ~ Relapse and a Half

Summary: The Pogues feel betrayed by the readers sudden relapse into drugs, but they're unable to be angry at her for too long as something terrible leaves her needing their support more than ever.

Trigger warning for: drugs (obviously), guns, sexual assault, violence

Part One

Part Two

Part Three:

After the confrontation at your house a night prior, JJ had only been able to see red, quickly pacing past your mum before making his way to the Chateau, kicking over some bins and verbally abusing some kids on his way.

He couldn't believe that you liked him. That you wanted to be with him. The thought stressed him out and made him regret doing whatever he'd done to get you to fall for him.

It wasn't that he didn't like you back. In fact it was quite the opposite - he'd been entirely obsessed with you ever since you'd arrived in the Outer Banks. His issue was that he'd seen up close just how damaged you were, just how sweet and kind you could be, just how much you deserved the world and everything in it - but not him. He wasn't good enough; not cool enough, not smart enough, not clean enough.

"Why him?" He thought. "Of everyone on this island, why him?"

You could've gone for Pope or John B or even one of the Kooks, at least they would treat you right. It might've killed him inside to see, but it would've been better than the pain he was feeling now, knowing that he'd been unintentionally hurting you this whole time, knowing that he was the one who bore the responsibility of your heart.

He stormed into John B's without stopping, going straight for the blunt in the ashtray and then storming back outside. From his behaviour, the Pogues feared for the worst and Kie's eyes were quickly tearing up, panic settling into her chest.

"She's okay, isn't she?" She followed JJ outside in a pleading tone, shortly followed by Pope and John B. "Please say she's okay."

JJ didn't answer, angrily sucking on the blunt and staring out at the sea, his mind racing.

"Answer me JJ! What's happened?" Kie demanded.

"Is she alright? Was she at home?" Pope questioned.

"JJ- fucking answer us man! Is she at the hospital? Is she- is she okay?" John B shouted.

JJ took another sharp drag on the blunt before solemnly answering.

"She's fine. I mean, she's not, but she's alive."

Kie shoved him with some frustration, her tears quickly drying up but her teeth gritting.

"Why the hell would you scare us like that? What happened?"

"We had an argument... I- You were right Kie. It is my fault."

She blinked incredulously, double taking as she tried to suss out what was wrong with the boy.

"What are you talking about?" She questioned angrily.

He took another sharp drag, even sharper this time, ran his hand through his hair and then turned to the Pogues with exasperation.

"Y/N likes me! And I've been a fucking idiot to not see it. I shouldn't have rubbed all those girls in her face. I didn't think she cared, but.. I guess she did."

"So you're saying that like it's a bad thing. I thought you liked her too." John B proclaimed in a confused tone, shooting a look to Pope who had also been aware of JJ's crush.

Kie was kicking herself for not picking up on that, wishing she’d known and she could’ve told you weeks ago - before you even had the chance to get depressed and pick up a pill again. But she didn’t focus on that thought for too long, more focused on your current wellbeing.

"I do, I just- We all know I'm a piece of shit, okay? I don't deserve someone like her. Hopefully she sees that now." JJ tutted, his eyes darting between each of the Pogues.

The uncertainty of his statement made them all nervous. 'Hopefully she sees that now' - what the hell did that mean?

"What do you mean? What did you do?" Kie hissed, her heart in her throat.

"Nothing! I was just rude. I guess I rejected her. Called her a junkie-"

Kie hit him again, seething with the boy at that point.

"What is wrong with you? Why the fuck would you do that?" She snapped, grabbing the blunt from his hand and throwing it onto the floor. "Go back there now and tell her you love her! She's probably crying her heart out right now."

JJ shook his head, thinking about picking up the blunt from the ground but not bothering. Weed wasn't strong enough to make him feel better anyway. He wanted to follow Kie's instruction, he wanted to hold you and tell you his truth, but he could think of too many reasons why not to - too many reasons why you were better off without him. The rejection may hurt now but you would get over it. You had plenty of other options. You would get sober again and you would be fine. His issue was that whether he was sober or not, he was never fine.

"Being with me would only fuck up her life more and you all know that! You should just convince her to like someone else, someone whose good for her. I can't do this." JJ protested.

"You're not a bad guy, man. Come on." John B said but JJ just shook his head again, walking towards his motorbike.

"So you're just gonna leave?" Pope scoffed as JJ got onto the bike.

"I told her to turn on her phone. Try calling her again." He said numbly before kick starting the bike and speeding off.

Kie groaned, unsurprised that when she called your phone moments later it didn't go through. She sat melancholically next to Pope, leaning on his shoulder whilst John B stressfully kicked a stick around.

"Well that's not what I was expecting." Pope sighed and then turned to Kie. "How long has Y/N been crushing on JJ exactly?"

She shrugged and shook her head.

"I don't know. Forever. But that doesn't matter anyway. I'm worried. It must've taken a lot for her to admit that she likes him, so she's either really manic or.."

"Really high." John B finished her sentence, not looking up from the ground.

"How much do you want to bet it's the second one?" Pope groaned.

"I just don't get why she didn't talk to me if JJ was upsetting her this much. She promised us she'd never use again. She's never broken a promise before." Kie sighed and then stood up. "I'm gonna go to hers. I'm annoyed but.. I'm more worried than anything. I wonder if her mum has clocked on yet… I’ll see you guys tomorrow."

"Love that woman but she's clueless so I doubt it." John B scoffed dryly. "See you tomorrow Kie."

Kie picked up her bike and rode it to your house, her mind racing with all the possibilities of what you could be doing.

"Most likely passed out or crying." She thought, her chest aching as she thought of your pain. You'd been through a lot together, and though she was beyond frustrated with your relapse, she wouldn't stop being your friend because of it.

When Kie eventually knocked on your door, your mum was surprised to open it to her.

"Isn't Y/N at yours? That's where she said she was going. JJ upset her quite a bit earlier." Your mum questioned and Kie was quick to catch on to the lie.

"Oh yeah- yeah she is. She's just so upset right now. She forgot some stuff and I said I would come and get it for her."

"You're so lovely Kie. What would she do without you?" Your mum smiled, letting her in.

When Kie went up to your bedroom and picked up a bag to strengthen her lie, she was concerned to see that your phone was still on your bed. Wherever you'd gone, you hadn't brought it. She turned on the phone in hope that it would give some clue as to where you could be, but all that came through were the missed calls and messages from the Pogues.

Kie couldn't let herself panic though. You were grown enough to look after yourself.

"Maybe she just went on a walk. Or a bike ride even. That's most likely. She probably just went to clear her head. I'll try again tomorrow." Kie thought to herself, but she took the phone anyway, hoping that when you came back you would have to come get it off her. She scrawled a note onto your mirror with an eyeliner from the side; "Got ur phone. P4L. - K"

The next day, Kie waited until the afternoon to leave her house, waiting for your knock on the door that never came. She decided that she would go back to your house and confront you there, but when she arrived there was no one inside. Your mum would be at work - that made sense - but after pounding on your door loud enough to wake you up from whatever slumber you might be in and getting no answer, she started to panic.

All of the worst possibilities sprung into her head - a horrific vision of you overdosed and alone, bent over the toilet and throwing up uncontrollably or even passed out and foaming at the mouth - so she quickly rushed to find the spare key under one of the many plant pots and slammed it into the door. She ran up the stairs, loudly repeating your name as she did, and paced into your room.

"Y/N, please be okay." She said before opening the door, her heart dropping when you weren't in the bed.

Nothing in the room had moved, not the crumpled up bedding, the pile of clothes in the corner nor the note on the mirror. You hadn't come back.

"Shit. Where the fuck is she?" She muttered to herself before pacing around the house, desperately searching for you but finding nothing. "Need to find her."

Now her mind raced to even darker corners. Perhaps you'd fallen into one of the many bodies of water on the island, high and uncoordinated, and drowned. Or maybe you'd crashed your bike into an oncoming vehicle. Maybe you'd passed out somewhere and someone had called an ambulance, or maybe you’d put yourself in danger without even realising it. She had no idea how spot on she was with the last prediction.

Kie had told Pope of her plan to force you to come to hers by keeping your phone, and all of the boys had assumed that the confrontation had been over and done with by that point, so they were confused when she turned up at the Chateau without you.

"Did you speak to YN?" JJ asked, springing up from his seat as soon as he spotted Kie.

He'd hardly slept, tossing around in his bed all night as he thought of all the things he wanted to say to you but couldn't. "It was better this way." He tried to convince himself "She's better off thinking I don't want her. Maybe she didn't even mean what she said. Maybe she was just high." He couldn't push the image of him holding you and loving you from his head though.

"No. She never came to mine." Kie huffed, wheeling her bike over with furrowed brows. "And before you ask - yes I went to hers, she's not there. Doesn't look like she's been home at all since I went there last night."

"So where is she?" John B questioned, his posture tightening.

"Do I look like I know?" Kie snapped. "I'm seriously worried."

"Shit." JJ hissed, instantly jumping into a panic. He was quick and erratic. "Okay. We should all split up and look for her. I'll check the marsh and the forest, Kie you should check figure eight, Pope you check town, and John B you take the boat and check the waters. Report back here in two hours."

He rushed towards his motorbike before anyone could even answer, but stopped in his tracks when Pope suggested a disheartening idea. It was an idea that had occurred to both John B and Kie as soon as JJ had announced his plan, though it didn’t surprise them that he didn’t think of it. He was someone who always lived in a somewhat state of denial.

"Don't you think one of us should check the hospital too? You know, just in case."

JJ swallowed, catching the lump in his throat before it could properly form, and nodded.

"Y-Yeah. You do that." He said without turning around. He wanted to argue - to say that the idea was ridiculous and a waste of time - but he couldn't find it in himself to do so. Pope might be right, and if he was... JJ had to cut his thoughts off before they got too hard to bare. He jumped onto his bike and sped off, heading straight to the marshes.

His search was obviously fruitless. He waded through knee high mud and lifted up heavy logs. He dug through thick bushes and climbed up trees. He shouted your name at the top of his lungs and prayed to God that you would appear.

But none of it worked.

By time the two hour mark had hit, he'd searched miles of forestry and worked up quite a sweat. Still, he wouldn't stop until he knew you were safe.

"Maybe one of the others have found her." He thought desperately to himself, jumping on his bike and heading back to the Chateau. They'd all tried to convince themselves with the same hopeful thought and been sorely disappointed when they eventually returned to their friends. JJ was the last to arrive.

"Any luck?" He shouted from his bike before he'd even got off it, springing across the lawn.

The rest of the Pogues were stood in a circle, also damp with sweat and breathing heavily. They looked upset which was understandable given the situation, but JJ felt his heart jump into his throat as he worried that the unimaginable had happened.

"Pope! She wasn't in the hospital, was she?" He asked with urgency, pacing over to the boy.

Pope was breathing heavily, still catching his breath from the run back to the Chateau.

"Pope!" JJ repeated in an almost shout, shaking his friends shoulders.

"No- No." Pope panted out.

"Chill, JJ. None of us had any luck." John B patted him on the back with a sympathetic look.

It didn't calm him down though. Instead he started to anxiously pace, running his hands through his hair and repeating to himself "Think, JJ. Think!"

"She might just be at someone's house. Who knows, she could be having a great time right now while we're thinking the worst." John B suggested which Kie rolled her eyes at.

"The only people she’d ever hang out with other than us are druggie degenerates, so it's not exactly great if she's with them either. Those people wouldn't care if she was on the floor foaming at the mouth."

"Well I don't know what you want me to suggest, Kie! We've looked everywhere else. Should we start banging on the doors of every junkie we know? Because that could take a while!"

As John B and Kie bickered, JJ continued his pacing, racking his mind for ideas until one shot into his head like a bullet.

"Wait-Wait. What did you just say?" He turned to his arguing friends.

"That she's probably with some drugged up degenerate?" John B answered in a sarcastic tone.

"That's it! She's probably at her dealers house. And I know only one scum bag who sells that prescription shit."

JJ ran back to his bike without saying another word, ignoring the questions from the Pogues as he kick started it and sped off - some hope finally in his mind though it was still mostly clouded by worry.

"Should we follow him?" Pope asked.

"Probably." Kie answered, heading towards the Twinkie with a sigh.

It was ten minutes later that JJ pulled up by Barry's house, carefully parking his bike around the corner so that the dealer wouldn't see him. They'd had their fair share of arguments already about JJ's dad and due to this JJ knew that he had a gun. It wouldn't do him any good to get caught on his property.

The blonde paced through the overgrown front lawn and almost jumped for joy when he saw your bike strewn lazily into one of the bushes - the signature ugly green paint instantly catching his eye. You would just be sat on the sofa smoking a joint or something. He could knock on the door, distract Barry without getting shot somehow and get you out of there in no time.

Then the sound of a large vehicle coming towards the house reached his ears, and he quickly ducked around the corner and crouched under one of the windows, anxious to not be caught by one of Barry's customers either. They typically weren't the most reasonable people after all. He was relieved with his decision when Rafe Cameron jumped out of the truck, music blaring and obnoxiously announcing himself as he knocked loudly on the front door.

JJ's ear pricked as he heard Barry's voice from inside, not having realised that the window on the wall above his head was open.

"Shit." The dealer tutted, followed by the sound of a zip. "Why now?"

Barry's breathing was heavy, like he'd been doing exercise, and it peaked JJ's curiosity. Was he working out whilst you watched from the sofa? That would be fucking weird. There was no way you would be lifting weights with him.

JJ listened carefully, waiting for the sound of the front door to open and the start of a passive aggressive conversation between the two men before he stood up and looked in the window. If either of them caught him, that would be a lot of trouble.

He wasn't at all prepared for what he saw through the glass though.

The sound of the zip suddenly made sense, and the heavy breathing. You were there, lying in an unmade bed, stripped naked and seemingly asleep. Even unconscious your face looked so sad and your body looked tired; thin, with random bruises scattered about your limbs and dirty looking hickies on your chest.

Had you let Barry do this? Surely not. Surely you had more self respect than that.

The thought of any other man touching you was enough to make JJ feel upset, let alone a scumbag dealer that he knew you would never have any real feelings for. But then it dawned onto him - that if you hadn't wanted Barry to have sex with you, that didn't make it any better. In fact, it made it a whole lot worse.

It meant that... you'd been tricked or forced or coerced in some way. It meant that you'd been raped. And maybe you didn't even know it. Maybe you were so knocked out that you would have no idea what Barry had done. Maybe he had drugged you on purpose so that he could do it.

JJ's blood boiled, so much so that he felt himself getting physically hotter, his teeth grinding and his fists clenching. He tapped on the window, hoping to get a response from you, but you stayed stiff and still, your eyes closed and your breathing shallow.

How much had you taken? Had he given you something too strong? Did the dealer even know if you were on the boundary of never waking up? Did he care? Either way, there was no way you could've rightfully consented to doing anything sexual with anyone. Not when you were clearly out cold.

"Fuck. Fuck. Fuck." JJ hissed to himself, trying to quickly brainstorm a way to get you out of there without getting killed by Rafe or Barry.

He pulled out his phone and went to text John B before remembering that he'd ran out of data, cursing himself for not paying his bill once again. Then he decided to creep around the back and listen in through another window, hoping that he'd overhear something to help with his plan. All that he heard didn't serve to help though, in fact it made his rage all the more fiery and his brain even less able to come up with a good idea. The desperation was becoming torturous.

"Where's Y/L/N then? I can see her ugly ass bike out the front." Rafe asked in a mocking tone.

"She's in bed, sleeping. What's it to you country club?" Barry answered.

Rafe scoffed. "I caught you mid fuck didn't I? Sorry for being a cock block bro. Can't say I'm not jealous. Bet she's a total freak in the sheets."

JJ could practically hear the smug smirk on Barry's face.

"Yeah, tits like you've never seen. And pussy like a vice grip. You wanna come take a look? She's out cold."

"You already know my answer to that, bro." Rafe chuckled.

JJ's eyes widened, a deep panic settling into his chest. You would be mortified to know that Rafe Cameron had been ogling your exposed form, let alone the potential that Barry might actually let him sleep with you. He ran back around to the other window and banged on it one more time in hopes of waking you up before quickly ducking down again just as the two men entered the room. He couldn't stay down and listen to their crass remarks this time, he couldn't bare it. He had to cause a distraction.

With a rush of inspiration, he picked up a rock and lobbed it at Rafe's truck, creating a loud thud as it dented the exterior. The two degenerates stormed outside at that and JJ heard the sound of a gun clicking.

"What the fuck was that?" Barry muttered whilst Rafe angrily proclaimed "Something dented my ride!"

"If there's anybody out there, you better come out now!" He shouted, his voice echoing around the vacant lot of overgrown swampland.

Then right on cue, the Twinkie pulled around the corner, a very confused looking John B in the drivers seat with Kie and Pope sat behind him. Rafe scoffed something bigoted about the Pogues before stamping over to the van, knocking so hard on the window that he was almost punching it. JJ would've been glad for his friends arrival if not for the pistol in Barry's hand.

"You dented my fucking car. Get the fuck out here!" Rafe demanded as Kie slid open the door, pacing at him with a scowl.

"We didn't do shit to your car. Now where the fuck is Y/N?"

"Didn't do shit? Look at the dent! You're paying for this Kie - since I know you're the only one with any money."

"I'm not paying for something I didn't do. Now tell me where my friend is. I can see her bike there and I swear to god if either of you have hurt her-"

"What are you gonna do? Huh?" Rafe cut her off with an intimidating smirk, stepping so that he was inches from her face. "You can't do shit."

Pope jumped out of the van and quickly got in between them, his nostrils flaring as he eyed the sociopath. John B quickly jumped out too, though before he could open his mouth to say anything Barry had cocked the gun and pointed it at the trio.

"Y/N ain't here. She bought her pills and wondered off into the marsh. Left her bike behind. Now if you want to find her before the gators do, you lot best be on your way."

No one moved an inch, horrified by the revelation of Barry's statement.

"And you just let her go? What is wrong with you? She could be dead!" Pope hissed, an unexpected volume to his voice.

JJ could no longer sit and silently listen knowing that his friends were about to embark on another wild goose chase. You were there, mere feet away. This was their best opportunity to do something before anything else could happen to you.

Feeling that the dealer was sufficiently distracted, JJ decided to fully open the window and climb inside, struggling slightly with the old frame as he pushed it up. Once he was in, he instantly rushed to your side, gently shaking your shoulder in an attempt to wake you up again.

"Y/N it's me. We've got to go." He whispered, only getting a groan back from you.

Your hair was splayed messily around your face like the petals of a flower, making him think to the mornings he'd spent with you in the past. How he'd woken up beside you after a night of drinking and wanted to kiss you, but held himself back in fear that you would find it weird. That you would remind him that you were only friends with the occasional benefit. That you'd laugh in his face. If only he'd known how wrong he was.

Perhaps he didn't deserve you, but if being by yourself meant that you were going to do this to yourself... he would have to fight until the end of the earth to be with you.

In that moment, he regretted so many of his past actions. From the random girls he'd kissed in front of you to his recent rejection of you, he knew that once you were safe and awake he would do anything and everything to take it all back.

You would be his. No one else's... This could never happen again. No one other than him would touch you. He wouldn't allow it.

He looked around the room in a panic, picking up your shirt from the floor and lifting your head so that he could pull it over your body. Your body weight was resisting his actions, dead and heavy, but when he found your underwear and started to pull them up your legs, you finally flinched awake - even if it was only slightly.

"No Barry. Not again." You mumbled, lifting your leg to kick him away.

"It's me - JJ. We're gonna get you out of here." He said quietly, pulling your panties up so that you were covered and then slipping his arms underneath you to hoist you up bridal style.

Your eyes shot open at the sound of his voice, your heart jumping into your throat.

"JJ?" You whimpered, struggling to keep your eyes open.

"It's me baby. It's me." He repeated in a hushed tone. "You're safe now."

Then he heard the sound of the van starting outside and knew that he had to be faster. He looked around the room for a weapon and was pleased when he spotted a shotgun leant against the wardrobe, an idea springing into his head. He quickly put you back down on the bed.

"No. No. Don't leave me." You choked out, your breathing becoming rapid with panic. It broke JJ's heart to hear.

"I'll be two seconds. I promise you'll be okay." He mustered the softest tone that he could, stroking your face and placing a delicate kiss on your forehead before picking up the gun and charging out of the room.

As soon as you were out of his sight, his bubbling anger returned. No longer would he be able to put on a calm front, that time had ran out. Adrenaline coursed through his veins and his skin went hot again, thinking of the vile words he'd overheard.

He pumped the gun one time, making sure it was loaded, and then slammed open the front door, quickly drawing the attention of the bickering degenerates outside. John B also quickly noticed his friend too, instantly stopping the Twinkie from reversing and jumping out again as he watched JJ in disbelief. The scene moved so quickly that none of the Pogue's were able to immediately process it.

With a cry of anger, JJ lifted the gun above his shoulder and then slammed the butt of it as hard as he could into Barry's head, knocking him out instantly. The dealer fell to the ground and dropped his own gun, and before Rafe could reach for it, JJ pressed the barrel to his chest. Rafe held his hands up in nervous surrender, though it didn't mean much.

"I should fucking kill you both!" JJ shouted. "You fucking piece of shit. You like girls when they're passed out? Huh? You like girls that can't say no?"

"Woah man. Chill. I didn't touch her." Rafe tried to calm him down, his eyes wide with fright. "It was all Barry. I just got here!"

At the realisation of what JJ had alluded to, the three other Pogues ran to join in the confrontation again. They felt sick at the idea that you might've been hurt - especially by two such unsavoury characters.

"Where is she?" Kie shouted, throwing punches into Rafe's side whilst Pope picked up Barry's pistol from the floor and kicked his body a few times.

"Inside." JJ answered through gritted teeth, staring Rafe down and struggling to not pull the trigger. "Tell me why I shouldn't kill you."

Rafe stumbled for a moment, swallowing before he collected himself and answered confidently "I didn't even touch her. Kill me and you’re going away for life! There’s not gonna be any of my DNA on Y/N, I can promise that! I’m not into passed out chicks. That’s all Barry.”

JJ didn’t move for a second, thinking on the boys words before lowering the gun slightly. He would make him suffer another time. In that moment, Barry deserved his attention much more.

"Get the fuck out of here." JJ eventually hissed.

Rafe did exactly that, backing away quickly to his truck and speeding off. The blonde turned his attention to Barry now, who was groaning as he slowly arose from the ground. Without hesitation, JJ bent down to his level and started to throw punches, blinded by fury and bloodlust. His nose cracked first, then his cheekbone, then his eye socket. JJ didn't know how long he'd been attacking him for when he felt John B's touch on his shoulder and heard his voice in his ear. The brunette had found you in the house and lifted you into the Twinkie during JJ’s raging, stood and watched for a moment and then decided to stop his friend, worried for your welfare despite enjoying the show very much.

"Come on JJ, that's enough."

Barry's face was an unrecognisable bloody mess, but he couldn't stop.

"J, you're gonna kill him."

That didn't matter.

"We need to get Y/N out of here. Let's go!"

The sound of your name did halt him. His knuckles were bruised and his chest was panting.

"He raped her, John B. She was passed out in there and naked when I found her!" He turned to his friend with a desperate expression. "We need to kill him."

"I know, I know. But he's not worth the prison sentence, J." John B struggled to bite back his own rage but managed to do so, speaking in a soft tone as he tried to calm his friend. "We'll make him suffer, don't you worry. But right now we need to go."

The blonde boy finally nodded in agreement, feeling somewhat dizzy from the adrenaline as he stood up and made his way to the Twinkie. Once he saw you inside, your half dressed body curled up on Kie's lap as you cried, the guilt came back to him in an agonising gut punch.

"This entire thing had been practically all his fault." Was all he could think. "From the relapse to this. He'd fucked you up without even trying."

He ignored his friends shouts as he paced back to his bike and said nothing as he rode off, deciding that he would go to a bar and drink his thoughts away for the night. As John B had said; it wasn't worth getting a prison sentence for murder, but that didn't mean he couldn't find some other random people to fight.

Hiiii I hope y’all enjoyed. I might make a part 4 depending on feedback. Stay safe!!

[tender-rosiey]

WE’VE SEEN SUKUNA WITH A SHY DAUGHTER, BUT WHAT ABOUT..SUKUNA WITH AN EXTROVERTED ENERGETIC HUMOROUS DAUGHTER⁉️⁉️

mischief reign — ryomen sukuna x f!reader

a/n: I HEAR YOU ANON

sukuna, the king of curses, master of terror and destruction, sits cross-legged on his throne with a look of pure exasperation carved into his features.

his crimson eyes follow the whirlwind of energy that is your daughter as she darts across the room.

“stop running, d/n,” sukuna orders, his voice heavy with authority. “you’ll trip over your own feet and break your neck. then what will you do?”

d/n skids to a halt in the middle of the hall, her little arms spread wide for balance.

her grin is as wide as her father’s, though hers is filled with boundless mischief rather than malice.

“then you’ll fix me!” she chirps without a second of hesitation, twirling on one foot.

sukuna pinches the bridge of his nose, muttering under his breath. “you’re too much like your mother.”

“is that supposed to be an insult?” you call out, stepping into the room with a knowing smile.

sukuna’s gaze flicks to you, and though his expression doesn’t soften, you can tell he’s relieved by your presence.

“it’s a warning,” he retorts. “one is enough. two of you? that’s a curse even I don’t deserve.”

d/n bounds over to you, her tiny hands clutching at your robes as she peers up at you with wide, excited eyes.

“mama, did you see me? I ran so fast! like this—zoom!” she dashes in a quick circle around you, nearly tripping over her own feet in the process.

“I saw,” you reply with a laugh, steadying her before she topples over. “but your father’s right. you’ll hurt yourself if you’re not careful.”

she pouts up at you, her brows furrowing in an uncanny imitation of sukuna. “papa’s always telling me to stop. he’s so grumpy!”

“because you don’t listen,” sukuna snaps, his tone sharp but not unkind.

“because you’re always grumpy!” d/n shoots back, sticking her tongue out at him.

the audacity of her response earns a low growl from sukuna. “insolent brat,” he mutters.

you stifle a laugh, knowing better than to let sukuna see you encouraging her sass. d/n, on the other hand, has no such reservations.

she scrambles up the steps to his throne, plopping herself down beside him with all the confidence of someone who knows they’re untouchable.

“why don’t you smile more, papa?” she asks, leaning her chin on her tiny hands as she gazes up at him.

sukuna stares at her like she’s just suggested he grow a third ear. “I don’t smile because I have to deal with you,” he replies flatly.

“you’re so mean!” d/n huffs, crossing her arms. “mama, tell him he’s mean!”

you step closer, your hands resting on your hips as you give sukuna an amused look. “you are so mean, sukuna.”

“I will show you mean later,” sukuna counters, eyes focused on you before they narrow as he turns to look at your daughter. “the world isn’t soft and kind. you might as well learn that now, you brat.”

d/n puffs out her cheeks in defiance. “but the world isn’t just mean either! there’s fun and happy things too! like flowers, and festivals, and—” she pauses, a sly grin creeping onto her face. “—frowny grumpy old men like you!”

sukuna’s eye twitches, his patience visibly wearing thin. “old?” he echoes, his tone dangerously low. “do you have a death wish, child?”

“maybe!” d/n chirps, completely unfazed.

the sheer audacity of her response leaves sukuna momentarily speechless, and you have to turn away to hide your laughter.

“d/n,” you say gently, crouching down to her level. “why don’t we give your father a break? he’s had a long day.”

“but he doesn’t do anything!” she protests, pointing an accusing finger at sukuna.

the cursed king leans forward, his crimson gaze locking onto hers with a dangerous gleam. “do you want to find out what I can do, little girl?”

“sure!” d/n replies brightly, hopping off the throne and striking a playful fighting stance. “let’s see what you’ve got, old man!”

sukuna’s lips curl into a predatory grin, and for a moment, you think he might actually take her up on the challenge.

but then he leans back with a huff, crossing all four of his arms.

“you’re not worth the effort,” he declares.

d/n pouts, clearly disappointed. “you’re no fun,” she grumbles, flopping onto the floor dramatically.

“and you’re exhausting,” sukuna fires back.

you step between them, shaking your head with a fond smile. “

“alright, that’s enough. d/n, why don’t you help me in the garden?”

“but I don’t wanna leave papa!” d/n whines, clinging to one of sukuna’s lower arms. “he’s fun to tease!”

sukuna pries her off with minimal effort, holding her at arm’s length like a particularly annoying kitten.

“I don’t need your help to be teased,” he growls. “I’ve got your mother for that.”

you chuckle, reaching out to take d/n from him. “come on, troublemaker. let’s go pick some flowers for your father. maybe that’ll cheer him up.”

“good luck,” d/n mutters, allowing herself to be led away. “papa doesn’t like anything.”

“except for you,” you murmur under your breath, glancing back at sukuna.

his eyes meet yours, and though his expression remains unreadable, there’s a flicker of something softer in his gaze.

as you and d/n move toward the door, sukuna’s voice follows you, low and gruff. "you're both in the same lump to me," he says.

your eyes widen slightly at the admission. your raise your head to look at him, suddenly right in front of you. you’re about to respond.

but without waiting for a reply, sukuna lightly bumps his shoulder against yours as he passes, the motion almost casual but undeniably intentional.

his gaze never wavers from the throne, but you catch the small, reluctant smirk that tugs at the corner of his lips.

"don't forget that.”

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[swordduels]

Circe could feel the most destructive parts of Greed loosen its grip on Regalia. What was left in her beautiful heart were memories together with new wishes free from painful darkness. What had once been drowned in poison started to grow with a tender glow. Former desires of domination had less meaning and attraction now that she started to connect with her newfound humanity. This was an incredible turn of event worthy of praise and more love.

“I’m glad to hear it and I’m so excited to discover new things together with you. I want to spend the rest of my days loving the new you as much as I love your past self.” She smiled happily while inhaling her scent of blossoming lavender. “Your heart is free from poison, love.” This moment of dream and distant memories couldn’t be more soothing. Each scent was filled with experiences from a different life filled with security as well as hardships. Every touch of grass against bare legs came with pictures of a heart warming community that no longer exist. It was a perfect place for them to rest and enjoy the company of each other. They were safe to express feelings of fear or happiness. She could hold her closely and speak clearly without a physical body in the realm of a beautiful fantasy. All of this was Regalia’s creative mind bringing them closer together. There were no walls keeping Circe out anymore. This was now the place of their wedding ceremony to take place before they would start over as a married couple. Circe looked into her eyes with fluttering eyelashes and cherry colored cheeks as Regalia made her wedding vows. It was spoken with a warm honesty that could mop the floor with every other proposal attempt Regalia had ever done before. “Oh, Regalia.” She chuckled softly while leaning to have their foreheads together. “There is no debt to pay because you saved my life as well.” If it wasn’t for Regalia’s bravery she might have been swallowed by the sin of Greed and absorbed into an empty shell of herself. “You better not take another woman but if you do I will demand us to be equally loved.”   

Circe followed her wandering gaze and took part in every memory that followed each sensation. It was a calming atmosphere bringing her to tear up with how empty it would be to leave. Regalia’s temporary hiding place was a far cry from this sunny paradise of warmth and belonging. It would be a brutal awakening after their engagement and wedding in a fantastical landscape with fluttery emotions rising high between them. There was a longing in her to build a similar lifestyle sometime in the future. A beautiful house surrounded by nature. Somewhere close to the coast with a beautiful ocean view. Maybe she could start over with a water sanctuary that would preserve marine animals back to health. 

Circe had a hard time holding herself back from peppering Regalia with tender kisses. But she managed to wait and give room for her to speak up. “Those days lay in the past and it’s about time we move on for a better future.” Someday in a brighter future after solving the problem of Greed they would work out their shared future and patch every hurtful moment into distant memories. “You are the strongest woman I’ve ever met, with or without the sin of Greed.” After speaking up she couldn’t hold herself back from leaving more butterfly kisses on Regalia’s cheeks and nose. Both hands moved to massage and caress with great care. She couldn’t get enough of touching every inch along Regalia’s back with slow movements while pressing herself closer. “The world can wait, I need you, right now.” Circe whispered against her lips. “Kiss me like there’s no tomorrow.”  She looked at her with warmth glowing in her brown eyes. There was a tremble to her parted lips as she waited for the kiss that would seal their marriage bond. It felt as if she was about to get kissed and make for the very first time. This was their own moment. Away from prying eyes and nefarious schemes. @fallesto

Regalia felt something shift within her, something she hadn’t felt in a very long time. The greed, the desire for power, and the need for more wives had been a part of her for so long that she had forgotten what it was like to be content. As she stood there, embracing Circe, she felt the last vestiges of that greed slip away like leaves in a gentle breeze. Her heart swelled with something other than desire—it was love, pure and untainted by the darkness that had once consumed her.

“I’m beginning to feel a bit different now that the darkness is no longer inside me. I’m starting to feel better and feel more like the person I was before I earned that title and the associated power. I’m gradually regaining my clarity of mind.”

Her breathing evened out as she took in the tranquil scene around them. The farm was a picture of peace, and the animals all seemed to look at them with knowing eyes. They had witnessed her transformation, her fall from grace, and now her rebirth. The air was sweet with the scent of apples, and she could hear the distant sound of laughter from the farmhouse. It was a sound that she had longed to hear again, a sound that made her feel like she belonged. Her donkey form, while simple, felt right. It was a stark contrast to the monstrous creature she had become, and it was a reminder of who she truly was deep down.

"Then, right here under this tree, just like it was a thousand years ago when I was happy and had something good, I’ll give you my vow. You're the only person that I want; you're the only one who means something to me. Your love is everything in my life, and you've saved me. I’ll forever be in your debt. I’ll never betray you, and I’ll never be with anyone else, I swear it."

She turned and looked into the distance for her memory. As a donkey, Regalia had been forced to work alongside the farmhands, to till the fields, and to carry the weight of the world—or rather, the weight of the apples—on her back. She had felt the sting of the sun and the ache of her muscles after a long day's labor. But there was something profound in that simplicity, something that had been lost in the grandiose life she had built for herself. There was a sense of respect and camaraderie that she hadn't experienced since, a time when she had truly lived and not just existed in a haze of power and desire.

The farmhands had treated her kindly, despite her being different. They had spoken to her as an equal, sharing their stories and their laughter. They had not feared her, nor had they coveted her. They had seen her for what she was—a creature doing her best to survive. And she, in turn, had learned to respect them, to understand the value of hard work and companionship. It was a stark contrast to the fear and adoration she had been surrounded by in her castle, where everyone either cowered before her or sought to manipulate her for their own ends.

"I cannot undo my past actions, nor can you. We both made mistakes and lost many people, creating a lot of enemies along the way. However, we now have a second chance. While I might not like feeling weak, I realize I am more valuable on my own. I can finally think clearly without the urge to lash out at the world."

As she reflected on her time as a donkey, Regalia felt a strange nostalgia. It was a simpler existence, one where the biggest decisions were about the work that needed to be done and the food that needed to be earned. The bonds she had formed with the other animals and the humans on the farm had been genuine, untainted by the need for power or status. They had all just been creatures living their lives, and she had been one of them. Circe’s arms around her felt like a warm embrace from that past life, and her gentle kisses were like whispers of those lost moments of innocence. Regalia’s heart fluttered in her chest, and she leaned into the witch, feeling the love that had been growing between them become stronger with every passing second. 

“It's you and me against the world.” The warmth of the setting sun painted the sky with a palette of oranges and pinks, casting a soft glow over the couple. The air was filled with the sweet symphony of nature, a stark contrast to the cries of battle and the clanging of swords she had grown so accustomed to. As she rises up and kisses her again. Her kisses were tender and filled with a love that had grown from the depths of their shared experiences, a love that had survived betrayal and anger, and had blossomed into something beautiful. Regalia felt her heart swell with every touch, with every gentle caress of the witch’s hands. It was a feeling she had never truly appreciated before, one that she had been too blinded by power to recognize.

[valenhui]

i know the end

you both know how this ends. might as well make the most of it, right?

pairing: joshua jong x reader

genre: ?? to ??, hurt/no comfort, angst, this is just angst. that’s it.

wc: 0.8k

warning(s): unedited, gender-neutral!reader, one sentence implies that reader is shorter than joshua, this is literally just angst that’s the plot of the drabble.

notes: i can’t sleep and then this happened. i’m sorry if this makes no sense

It’s 10:46pm and Joshua is yours.

Sitting together on a hill, hidden away from lingering eyes under dense bushes and trees and yet high enough to see the city skyline sparkling beneath you.

He had picked you up earlier, hours before sun was to set with his car keys and a bouquet of red camellias in hand. When you asked of the destination the only answer you received was far enough.

Even now, as you both sat miles away from your apartment you wondered if anywhere would really be far enough for either of you. You could move cities, he could move countries, but would that distance really be far enough?

“You’re thinking again.” Joshua pointed out, eyes set before him on the skyline but you knew he’s been sneaking glances in your direction. You pretended to not notice. “I thought we agreed we wouldn’t think about it tonight?”

A beat passed, and then a sigh escapes your lips.

“Sorry.” You mumbled.

It’s 11:29pm and Joshua is yours.

You’re back in his car now, your shared playlist playing softly as he drives down the empty streets. He has a destination now, your apartment, but he’s not too eager driving this time. He’s barely reaching the speed limit and actively avoids the GPS recommending faster routes.

“I’m sorry.” He suddenly apologizes in-between songs.

You hum in response, turning to look at him as he continues driving, eyes never leaving the road.

“I was thinking about it. I’m sorry.” It’s all he’s been able to think about since he showed up on your doorstep earlier.

After a moment, Joshua silently takes your hand with his right one and laces your fingers together. He’s still looking at the road ahead of him but when you give his hand a squeeze, he glances down at your interlocked hands and allows the smallest crack of a smile onto his face. He squeezes your hand back, and you notice that the next song is almost over.

You try to savour the rest of it until it’s done.

It’s 11:51pm and Joshua is still yours.

He’s standing in front of your side of the car, opening the door and extending a hand for you to take.

It’s almost second nature to expect him. He’s always pampered you and ensured you were comfortable and happy before even thinking about worrying for himself. You wished he would let you take care of him sometimes. Now more than ever.

Walking you to your front door, he keeps his fingers laced with yours. He doesn’t let go once you complete the short walk but rather, tugs gently so that you’re forced to turn to look at him. This time, he’s finally looking at you and your heart wants to drop when you notice how tired he looks.

“Thank you.” He starts, tugging you again to pull you closer. You’re just a step away from him now. So close, yet so far. “For coming with me tonight. I know it’s late and we’re both going to be busy tomorrow so I really appreciate it.”

You smile up at him and for a spilt second you see him mirror the action before he’s suddenly bridging the gap between you two and his lips are on yours, clouding your mind until the only thing you can focus on are the way his lips feel against your own and the taste of salt on your tongue.

You hadn’t realized you were crying or the fact that he was mumbling sweet nothings against your lips. It didn’t quite matter right now though. The only thing on your mind was Joshua.

“I’m sorry.” He mumbled softly, pulling away from you just enough so that you’d hear it.

“Shua-”

“I’m sorry.” He repeats, and this time he takes a step back. “I’m sorry.”

It’s 11:59pm and you’re not quite sure if Joshua is yours.

He’s standing barely an arms length away from you but he looks at you as if you’re someone else. As if you’re not his.

“Shua, please. Come inside-”

“I think we should call it a night. I kept you up quite late, I’m sorry.”

“Joshua, please.”

Tears brimmed your eyes, almost blurring your vision as you watch the silhouette of Joshua hang his head before he’s turning on his heel and heading towards his car. It’s not long before he’s reaching for the drivers side door and despite your pleas for him to turn again and just talk to you, he opens the door with a shaky sigh and gets inside.

You watch as he drives off, standing frozen in your spot in front of your door until he’s out of your line of sight and your face is wet.

It’s 12:08am and as you shut the door behind you to your apartment, you come to the fact that Joshua is no longer yours.

[priyal-d123]

A Dead Poet's Cry

I saw this girl the other day

And it felt like I had seen her before

As if I'd known her somewhere in some way

She smiled when she saw me

And I knew that's what she did for everyone

That was the thing about her,

She loved smiles; it reminded her of battles won

But there was something wrong

She knew I could see it too

So she wore that smile further

But just for a moment there, it faltered

And just for a moment then, I could see through

I saw it all in front of me then; laid bare

How far she'd loved and how bad shed lost

How much she'd had to suffer, when all she'd done was care

I felt broken then, as if I were the one who'd been betrayed

I felt hurt on her behalf

I couldn't understand who would do this to someone

Who didn't deserve to cry, but to laugh

I felt angered ar that someone

And I think I knew who

And I wanted to hold her, and tell her

'don't leave, I still love you'

Something told me that's what she wanted to hear too

Just once, not for me or anyone else, but for THAT person to care

To whisper, 'don't worry, I'm not going anywhere'

I reached out; to be that person for her, i tried

But the closer I got, the worse, for the loss, she cried

They say she wears her grief well

Or is it the other way around?

Cause that's what they'd taught her to do

To bear it all, and yet, not make a sound

She assured me; 'its fine' she said

Even though it was clearly not

My heart hurt to see her

Waiting for someone who'd succumbed her to this rot

And I wondered if that's what love was

I'd never believed in it; now I detested it even more so

Because it has killed her alive

And even still refused to let her let go

I pleaded her to forget; to somehow just live

But she just shook her head sadly

And I knew there was nothing left in her to give

I saw it slipping

Her facade giving away

And I saw what once was beautiful

Fading with people who didn't stay

What justice is this, I asked

I wondered why she so stubbornly held on

There came that smile again, full of pain and loss,

And something told me, she's never accept they're gone

Her eyes dimmed then

And her smile finally dropped

Tears rushed to fill her eyes to the brim

And my heart just stopped

And she stared back at me

The girl behind the glass

Her hope had been the end of her

Her innocence, her love, her smile, now gone

Lost somewhere in the blur

[arcane-ish]

I get people can wish for what they want but imo any "Silco was a perfect Saint before Vander traumatized him" just never made sense to me because if how base on dialogue Vander clearly thinks Silco is capable of terrible things.

If the last thing he remembers of Silco before hurting him was Silco being just sweet and idealistic and only thinking of helping people then it doesn't make sense that he would accuse Silco of doing things for pride.

And even if you headcanon that that is Vander like diverting from himself what of him pleading with Silco not to hurt the Lanes?

If Silco was the Saint of the Lanes then people would remember him more positively, then it wouldn't make sense that Sevika goes to him because Vander is not extreme enough and Vander would not have reason to assume that Silco would ever hurt the Lanes.

"For what? Pride?" Why accuse him of that if Vander knows that Silco was motivated by kindness before?

"that was never enough for you" Suggesting that Vander remembers Silco who was demanding in their together days.

"In fighting topside, you'd sacrifice everything that we are." Again, if Vander was the violent one before and Silco was the peaceful one, wouldn't Vander say "you sacrificed everything you are/were"?

"Kill me if you have to, but please spare the Lanes." Again if Silco was the sweet one who protected people, why would Vander fear for the Lanes? If he remembers a sweet Silco why would he assume Silco would ever take things out on the Lanes?

Imo a characterisation where Silco was the nice one and Vander was the evil one who ruined him, feels guilty about that and ironically became peaceful just doesn't make sense with what we saw in season 1 where Vander very clearly thinks Silco is capable of doing bad shit.

Again this doesn't mean I assume that Vander wasn't violent or saintly before. Like I can funny buy that maybe as the more physical one he had a higher body count.

I'm not the biggest fan of the Felicia addition but the characterisation that Silco was the pushier one (but maybe still with moral qualms/still capable of being swayed) and Vander was having moral qualms or became more hesitant earlier, before their falling out imo makes perfect sense with what we were shown in season one. So, yeah, the idea that Silco was the "dove" and Vander was the "hawk" before the Drowning just imo makes no sense with the characterisation seen in season 1. The idea that they already were moving in different directions, that there was a turning point and they afterwards went more extreme in the direction they had already been moving into always was the more realistic option with what s1 showed.

To me all the people disappointed that we didn't get an arc about Vi hating Vander and realizing Silco was actually the bestest ever usually strikes me more as people being possessive/territorial about Silco rather than doing realistic extrapolation of what we saw in season 1. Especially imo the show still did do a version of "Vi doesn't follow Vander's path and Vi does gain a more nuanced view on Jinx", it's just more subtle.

Vander's "order" was protect the family/take care of Powder. And her arc is still about letting go of that idea of taking care of Powder/centering her life around protecting others. That arc wouldn't be made better by "Vi realizes that Vander was bad actually and that's why she shouldn't follow what he said".

And no, Vi never sits down and says "actually Silco was awesome/Silco was the better man/Silco rules, Vander drools". But imo she does gain a more nuanced view on Jinx. (And yes they share that moment in the mines with Vander's letter, but I don't think it's that weird that Vi is too stubborn to just turn around openly 100% but imo that she asks Jinx to use her powers "for good" shows her turnaround on Jinx the most). And with how linked Silco is to Jinx in Vi's mind imo that is all mingled together, even if it's Ekko is the one who gets explicit "seeing a different side if Silco" story rather than Vi.

(imo both girls have an arc about choosing their own paths where they don't abolish the influence of their fathers but also don't follow what their fathers would have wanted)

What I wanted from the Vander and Silco flashbacks was subversion and heartbreak.

I wanted younger Silco to be fairly peaceful, someone focused on building up resources and separating Zaun from Piltover with minimal casualties on their end. I wanted him to be someone who says "wait, bid your time, don't push until your ready" type.

I wanted younger Vander to be hotheaded, impatient, someone focused on immediate action and immediate results. Someone who says "don't wait, act, do now rather than later" type.

I wanted Vi and Jinx meeting someone who was part of the failed rebellion while trying to help Warwick-Vander. I wanted Vi to be forced to recognize that Vander wasn't always a good person and Silco wasn't always a bad person. I wanted Jinx to accept that Silco became a bad person and so did she, but people change and so could she.

I wanted a flashback where Vander tries to get rid of Silco because despite being the "Hound,' Silco is the one with the leash and is the one people follow. I wanted Vander, the bigger "brother" to take leadership by force after years of looking up to Silco and growing disillusioned by the constant "wait, we're not ready." And the fail spectacularly and see all the misery he wrought and would continue to contribute to - because the aftermath of failed uprisings involve way more death than the ones directly involved.

Imagine Vander trying to become more like Silco. Patient, contemplative, community focused. And not truly hitting the mark because he still doesn't understand that patience and pacifism aren't the same thing - the goal was war, but with preparation. Acknowledge Vander's failures and shortcomings as a leader, have him compare himself and be compared by others to what Silco once was.

Silco built the Lanes so people had a safe place. Silco owned the Last Drop and funded the rebel group through it. Silco led a rebellion in the mines. Silco got them breathers or plants to clean the air. Silco never worked with Enforcers. Silco never let a death be in vain.

I especially wanted Warwick/Vander to struggle with his past while coming back to himself. An episode just of this and nothing else, tied together by the chain of violence building up to a proper war between Zaun and Piltover with Silco's voice in Jinx's head encouraging her to become Zaun's champion. It would've been a lot better than what we got.

Making it boil down to Felicia's death just sours it all. Vander adopting random children he orphaned and changing because of HIS failure was interesting characterization. It being for his close friend's children is major downgrade. Him trying to kill his other friend because of it and NOT for a greater reason is straight trash.

Seriously, no hate to Felicia, but her being part of the friendship was pointless. How do the kids not know who Silco is if she was so close with them? Her being someone they knew through their rebel group would've been fine, but so close as depicted and yet no ties to the story otherwise? Her death being Vander's reason for trying to kill Silco? Dude claims the events on the bridge changed him - but he still ends up being a violent monster betraying Silco.

[chibishortdeath]

Ya know, Castlevania tackled the concept that life after defeating Dracula could be difficult for a Belmont with Richter feeling like he’d lost all purpose and reason to go on living if not for saving others and fighting against something—

But, do you think any of them before him felt that way too?

I mean it sounds kind of miserable, being raised your whole life to be solely relied on for one moment… and then what? How do you handle the sudden shift to ‘not being needed anymore’? Evidently, most of them didn’t have very much happen to them after the events of their games since we don’t get to know—

But, do you think any of them ever got better? Do you think anyone before Richter ever learned how to live for themselves? Did Richter?

Anyway it’s 8 PM and I’m sitting around wondering if any of the Belmonts were still happy after their happy endings (debatable if certain ones got happy endings tbh but anyway), Konami can u check on them, I’m worried—

[skunkes]

the bad: i have been raised without much warmth from my parents in childhood, but also pressured to conform to familial authority, doubt myself always, and value familial connections above all else (<- failed at this, and feel guilt about it.)

but also in experiencing this i have been so isolated from the entire rest of the world and others, that it will be nearly impossible to create my own "family" -> find safety and comfort in anybody else once my family is Gone. despite dis i find it really difficult to break away from the familiar, disobey and disappoint, because, well, why are my wishes more important than anybody else's. why would I cause upset and distress in anybody, and exert so much effort into my doubt filled half decisions, for my meaningless little Wishes. being away would also mean less time with these people who I'll never see again once they're gone. being raised this way is definitely paying off for those who did so.

the good: yaaaay adjacent inspiration for writing talon lore

[vaguely-concerned]

just going about my day idly contemplating how some of the ways hawke can interact with a romanced anders are not at all unlike how they interact with leandra (and a bit of carver too, especially with a purple hawke), and then thought about my hawke in the timeline where he romances anders and was hit straight in the face with 'was he ever actually in love, or was he just desperately trying to renegotiate with his mother's ghost in any way he could' and now i need to lie down. this is the power of dragon age 2

[talesfromawannabewriter]

@beef-brisket

(Sorry again for making you all wait so long. I’ll try not to let it happen again)

at the hotel

Vaggie was on guard duty making sure everyone was safe and sound. Especially Charlie. Her sweet, gentle, and loving girlfriend.

A person that Vaggie was lucky enough to have. She just wished that she had been more careful. But one could say that it was more her fault than Charlie’s.

She should have been more thorough with Charlie. Try to explain to her that Heaven wouldn’t be willing to listen. In fact if this hotel and this dream of redemption never happened then they wouldn’t be in deep shit.

Vaggie shook her head.

Vaggie internally: No, no don’t think those things. You swore you’d do anything to make her dreams come true. Even if…even though there would be trouble.

A sound from the hallway caught her attention. Her head snapped to the door as she heard footsteps approaching. Her eyes narrowed and she summoned her spear.

Silently she crept toward till she was standing right in front of the door. Just as the footsteps ceased. Standing on the tips of her toes she looked into the peephole to see who it was.

It took all her power to not gasp when she saw Adam standing there grinning.

Adam:(quietly) I know it’s you Vagatha.

Vaggie swallowed back the spit that was forming in her throat.

Adam: I am not going to harm the princess. I took an oath to the Lord himself not to strike down any of the Hellborn. I only merely wish to speak to you. And to give you a gift.

She was about to refuse and tell him to piss off before she heard this.

Adam: But refuse to and know that I will bring wrath upon the sinners. I know you don’t give a single damn about any of them. But your girlfriend wouldn’t like her pets gone would she?

Vaggie glanced over to where the others and Charlie were deeply asleep. Her eye held so much longing at the demon girl. Just wanting to keep her safe.

Vaggie: …Damn you Adam.

Carefully she opened the door and stepped outside. Once closing the door she immediately pointed her spear at him.

Vaggie: You made a grave mistake coming here you bastard!

The first man merely pulled her spear right out of her arms and snapped it in two. He threw it to the side as Vaggie watched on in horror. All with an eyebrow raised from him.

Adam: Really? Vagatha or Vaggie as you prefer now, do you really think that would even put a dent in me?

Vaggie didn’t say anything only try and place herself in a fighting position. Even as she shook in fear. Never once had that happened to her once in her life.

Adam: Now, (claps hands together) you must be wondering what I’m doing here. Fear not I am not here to bring harm to any sinners in fact this discussion is about that. And you.

Vaggie: W, w, what d, d, d do you w, w, want?

Adam: Simple, I want to know one thing. Do you even believe redemption? Or are you just doing this, all of it, for her?

Vaggie: ….What?

Adam: Don’t fool me Vaggie deep down we both know that you don’t believe all that redemption crap. You’re just apart of this failed experiment because you cannot say no to your girlfriend. I see the way you bow to her every whim. All for a girl that would never give you a second glance if she knew the truth about you.

Vaggie: She knows that I am an angel, you made sure of that.

Adam: USED to be an angel, you have fallen Vaggie.

Vaggie: So have you.

Adam: Maybe but the Lord gave me a purpose for my falling. You? You’re as equal as the ground we walk on.

Vaggie: Why? Because I refused to be one of your pawns in a twisted game.

Adam: No. because you are a liar Vaggie. A liar that has aid in the deaths of angels.

Vaggie: You have murdered the innocent!

Adam: Innocent? In what way?

Vaggie: They were defenseless and you’ve been raining down terror on them for centuries!

Adam: And so have you, you truly are a hypocrite.

Vaggie: I’ve changed! I haven’t hurt a single soul since you banished me!

Adam: While you may not have killed anyone I can still see your sins dear and you have terrorized others. Especially that little spider friend of yours. Always making him feel as if he was never enough. While simultaneously claiming yourself as higher, more pure than him.

Though she hated him saying it Vaggie still felt more shame than she ever had in her life.

Adam: Not only that but you abuse your strength over others. You think I should be ashamed for what I’ve done? The thing is you don’t even understand half of what you have done is wrong. From the moment you started letting sinners go.

Vaggie’s eye widened to the size of a dinner plate.

Adam: Yes, I had a feeling you’ve been a traitor long before you were caught. Yet I didn’t say anything. I’ll take the blame on that. I should have shown you the truth, the full truth. Because maybe then this whole mess would have never happened in the first place. I have a gift for you Vaggie.

Vaggie: I want nothing from you.

Adam: I’m afraid this gift is non refundable.

He then placed a gentle hand over her X. What happened next would forever change the way she would see the world around her.

It started as an itch, then a burning, then soon it felt as if the left side of her head was on fire. She could no longer hold it in and screamed as loud as she could. Unable to handle the pain she writhed on the ground.

Her head was starting a deep migraine and she could barely hold on.

Then it was over. The pain stopped. And the once proud girl was left a drooling mess on the floor.

That’s when she felt it.

Something opening and fluttering behind her patch. She scrambled to rip it off and her hand flew to touch the once vacant spot now filled with an organ. Slowly she took her hand away and blinked.

For the first time in over three years she could see with both of her eyes. She heard someone approaching and gasped kneeling beside her.

Charlie: Vaggie! What happened!? Are you hurt? Was it…oh my God.

Oh my God was right. Charlie saw both eyes as Vaggie saw her girlfriend with full vision. She was even more beautiful than before.

However, the once happy moment turned sour when the others came out to check on the princess and her little soldier. The moment Vaggie saw them, all three of them, she opened her mouth and screamed once more.

Because all at once she saw all the sins they’ve committed in their entire existence.

Tormentor of souls au

Darkness surrounded him like a blanket. Only he was no way comfortable or felt safe. He felt fear grip him like iron as he tried to make even a sliver sense of his situation. He could barely a muscle, if he had any muscle to pull. It felt like he had nothing to move, was this what happened to the souls he exorcised? 

Were they to end up here for eternity, slowly being drove insane with nothing but your thoughts to keep you company? Adam couldn’t even try to open his mouth to speak, well he did try, but the only words that would escape from him were from within his mind. In his mind he sighed, he was just so tired, he didn’t have any strength to fight, to argue that he shouldn’t be here. Yet what exactly was the point? He’d only tire himself further out. 

He had to admit it, he was stuck here, for all eternity. Much the same as a sinner. 

That was when he saw it a flicker of light. Not just any light, a pure white light. A light that was so familiar, one that brought him joy when it spoke to him in his booming voice.

His creator 

“GREETINGS MY SON. IT HAS BEEN SO LONG SINCE I HAVE LAST SPOKE TO YOU AND FOR THAT I APOLOGIZE”

Adam didn’t care he was just so thankful to be in his creator’s presence.

“MY SON I KNOW THAT YOU HAVE LIVED A LIFE OF HARDSHIP AND THAT IT DID NOT STOP EVEN WHEN YOU PERISHED.” 

He tried to not flinch at that. Thinking about his first life brought too many unpleasant memories.

“THAT IS WHY IT BRINGS ME PAIN TO ASK YOU OF THIS, BUT I NEED YOUR ASSISTANCE ONCE MORE. I KNOW OF WHAT YOU HAVE DONE THESE PAST FEW CENTURIES, AND I HAVE TO SAY THAT IT WAS NOT THE SOLUTION”

Adam could not believe what he was hearing. His own creator believed that they, the murderers and rapists, deserved to be redeemed!?

“HELL IS MEANT TO BE A PUNISHMENT, ETERNAL TORMENT OF THE SINS LUCIFER CORRUPTED WITH HIS WAY OF FREE WILL. HOWEVER MANY OF THEM DON’T SEE IT THAT WAY. TO THEM HELL IS MERELY A PLAYGROUND WHERE RULES NO LONGER MATTER. I HAVE SEEN TRUE MONSTROUS ACTS THE WICKED HAVE BROUGHT WITH THEM FROM LIFE. THEY CARRY IT MOST OUT ON THE TRUE CITIZENS OF HELL, THE ONES THAT HAD NO SAY IN BEING THERE OR NOT.”

The hell born, Adam thought taking in the Lord’s words

“I KNOW I AM NOT THEIR CREATOR, NOR DO THEY CALL ME FATHER, BUT I HAVE HEARD THEIR PLEAS FOR HELP TO BE SAVED FROM THE ACTS OF THE WICKED, OF ALL WICKED. UNFORTUNATELY THERE IS NOTHING I CAN DO ABOUT OTHER PEOPLE BORN DOWN THERE, BUT I CAN STOP THE SINNERS FROM HURTING THEM AND THAT IS WHERE I NEED YOUR HELP”

Adam had never put much thought into the hellborn. To him they were simply there and as long as they got in his way during the exterminations they weren’t a problem. There was the princess, but he didn’t really count her. He was curious however as to what the Lord wanted him to do.

“THE SINNERS NEED PUNISHMENT, AND THE HELL BORN NEED PROTECTION. YOU CAN BE THEIR PROTECTOR BY BECOMING THE PUNISHER.”

 With a simple snap of his creator’s fingers Adam felt something shift within him, in his very essence he changed. A warm feeling engulfed him whole and then he knew no more.

((Oh shit- I love everything about this! God needs to fuck off and let our boy rest!

Sorry this took me a hot second to get to- and I hope my reply does yours justice 😝))

Charlie is in full work mode and has been since the failed extermination ended. Since finding out Sir Pentious ended up in Heaven.

For months, she had been working hard. It was so hard that she somehow missed the latest gossip going around the Pride Ring.

Sinners ending up missing, only to resurface months later completely different. Scared. Traumatized.

Many didn't think much of it. This is Hell. There's always some crazy bastard out there doing shit.

But, it was when they became too scared to even function, too scared to ever be normal again, too scared that they would rather turn an angelic blade on themselves than to live with the possibility of going through whatever it is they've gone through.

Charlie was actually getting quite concerned. Especially when she heard Angel talking about it one night at Husks bar.

Angel: I fucking tell ya, kitty. People a shit scared. I've never seen the clubs so empty!

Husk shook his head: Must be the worst of the worst, huh?

Angel scoffed, downing his drink: Nah, babe. It's something else. It ain't no sinner.

Husk: Hellborn?

Angel: Those guys are freaky. Don't get me wrong, but their not THAT freaky. I had a client who said he was taken for three months. Three. That's fucking child's play. But the shit he said happened to him... fucking skinning, to pouring acid down his throat. Fuck mam, the sick ficker even dug around I'm his muscle and tendons!

Angel shook his head: There's something going on... even Val has lowered the workload.

Husk: Pft. Fuck. That's how you know it's serious.

Angel: Damn fucking right.

Charlie stood at the top of the stairs, listening to Angel's story. She was shocked but not surprised. She wasn't sure why this person has the sinners so scared, but sury it's nothing new.

She probably should make sure Al isn't behind this. She's only heard a few tales of his exploits so she wouldn't put it past him.

-

Alastor: Hm. So you've heard the rumors, too. While I'm flattered, I don't appreciate being confronted in such a way.

Vaggie: Just- fucking answer her, Alastor.

Alastor sighed, leaning on his cane: No, it's not me. I've been too busy here! And my kills stay dead when I'm finishing them~.

Charlie wasn't sure if she liked that answer, but it was good enough.

She apologized to Alastor, ams watched him leave.

Vaggie: ...I don't know, Charlie.

Charlie: I don't know either...

Vaggie: I'm sure it's nothing. Besides, you have more important things to deal with here, hun. You shouldn't get mixed up in sinner issues.

Charlie sighed: I know. I just... surely, it's a coincidence that this starts after the failed extermination... that was my fault. Simmered died because of me- I put my friends in danger! I feel like I owe it to everyone to at least try and solve it.

Vaggie smiled and pulled her girlfriend onto a soft hug.

Vaggie: I know you feel like that, hun. But you don't owe anyone anything... besides, if it's that bad, you could just ask Lucifer. He said he was looking for something to do.

Charlie: Hm... that's... a good idea, actually! I'll get dad on the case!

-

Lucifer: Me on the what now? Charlie, why should I care about whatever is going on with those sinners? Their... you know... sinners.

Charlie: Dad, please? Our guests are sinners. We need them to be safe. So please. Look into this for me? Even just a little bit?

Lucifer sighed. He really didn't want to do this. But, seeing the hopeful, pleading look on his daughters face, eventually changed his mind.

Charlie: Oh- thank you, dad, thank you!

Lucifer smiled as Charlie pulled into a hug. But when she felt and heard his back crack, she slowly put him down.

Charlie: S-Sorry dad!

Lucifer laughed through the pain: It's okay, Charlie - nothing I can't handle! I-I better start hunting a... whatever the fuck this is!

[tenwhiteandalusians]

pertaining to the idea of tenax’s band of strays i do think it’s touching that the kids are the ones who saved him and waited outside the door to make sure he’s okay. for all tenax claims to be harsh and cruel it’s a fine indicator of his character that the kids won’t rest without him and are there every time he’s in danger.

[h3avyhound]

i’m reaching the end of dndads s2 and i have So Many Thoughts and Feelings but i can’t articulate them well enough so im just gonna cry tbh

[koka-mi]

vent under the cut you don't need to read if you don't want to!!!!!!!

I honestly hateee opening up or oversharing with ppl. it's kind of like eating for me where it feels okay in the moment but then afterwards I just feel awful. it feels like I'm attention seeking or saying someone else's experience isn't valid for some reason and it sucks. I don't do it at all with ppl I just met but with friends I tend to get carried away with it sometimes,,,

It hurts even more because I've been distancing myself from ppl bcz I'm scared of this exact thing happening. People have messaged me before, saying I seem cool and they want to be friends. And I get happy in the moment, but then I get really anxious about accidentally getting too comfortable and blurting out personal things, because then their opinion of me will wane and they'll think I'm annoying or ungrateful. So I subconsciously begin to distance myself and take a while when responding to messages, because I'm scared of getting too comfortable with them. But now I'm anxious that they think I'm cold or distant and that I secretly don't like them. It's just a lose lose situation mannn </3

I have so many DMs I've put off responding to, and I've stopped talking in servers as much bcz I'm scared of getting close with ppl in them. I really feel bad for it, though. I've drifted from friends bcz of that and it sucks because I genuinely love them a lot. I love everyone I talk to a lot and they always make my day better--I just wish I could be the same for them. I feel like it's a chore to talk to me. I honestly don't know what to do. It's even worse when I get close to someone bcz they like what I make/post because again, now that they've seen how I really am and I've opened up, they more than likely see me as annoying or a bad person. Like it hurts enough whenever we become friends naturally talking, but if it's with someone who's seen me at my "best" and has seen things I work on or stories I've created, they ofc associate me with those things, and their expectations of me are through the roof. So when I disappoint them it hurts a lot more. I hate getting attached to people it hurts so much

[acourtofquestions]

Boots crunched in hay, and then he was knee to knee before her.

Aedion.

There was nothing kind on his face. No pity or warmth.

For a long minute, they only stared at each other.

Then the prince growled softly, "Your plan was bullshit."

She said nothing, and couldn't stop her shoulders from curving inward.

"Your plan was bullshit," he breathed, his eyes sparking. "How could you ever be her, wear her skin, and think to get away with it? How could you ever think you'd get around the fact that our armies are counting on you to burn the enemy to ashes, and all you can do is run away and emerge as some beast instead?"

"You don't get to pin this retreat on me," she rasped. The first words she'd spoken in days and days.

"You agreed to let Aelin go to her death, and leave us here to be slashed to bloody ribbons. You two told no one of this plan, told none of us who might have explained the realities of this war, and that we would need a gods-damned Fire-Bringer and not an untrained, useless shape-shifter against Morath."

Blow after blow, the words landed upon her weary heart. "We—"

"If you were so willing to let Aelin die, then you should have let her do it after she incinerated Erawan's hordes!"

"It would not have stopped Maeve from capturing her."

"If you'd told us, we might have planned differently, acted differently, and we would not be here, damn you!"

She stared at the muddy hay. "Throw me out of your army, then."

"You ruined everything." His words were colder than the wind outside. "You, and her."

Lysandra closed her eyes.

Hay rustled, and she knew he'd risen to his feet, knew it as his words speared from above her bowed head. "Get out of my tent."

She wasn't certain she could move enough to obey, though she wished to. Needed to. Fight back. She should fight back. Rage at him as he lashed at her, needing an outlet for his fear and despair.

Lysandra opened her eyes, peering up at him. At the rage on his face, the hatred She managed to stand, her body bleating in pain. Managed to look him in the eye, even as Aedion said again with quiet cold, "Get out."

Barefoot in the snow, naked beneath her cloak. Aedion glanced at her bare legs, as if realizing it. And not caring.

So Lysandra nodded, clutching Ansel's cloak tighter, and strode into the frigid night.

"Where is she?" Ren asked, a mug of what smelled like watery soup in one hand, a chunk of bread in the other. The lord scanned the tent as if he would find her under the cot, the hay.

Aedion stared at the precious few logs burning in the brazier, and said nothing.

"What have you done?" Ren breathed.

Everything was about to end. Had been doomed since Maeve had stolen Aelin. Since his queen and the shifter had struck their agreement.

So it didn't matter, what he'd said. He hadn't cared if it wasn't fair, wasn't true.

Didn't care if he was so tired he couldn't muster shame at his pinning on her the blame for the sure defeat they'd face in a matter of days before Perranth's walls.

He wished she'd smacked him, had screamed at him. But she had let him rage. And had walked out into the snow, barefoot.

He'd promised to save Terrasen, to hold the lines. Had done so for years. And yet this test against Morath, when it had counted ... he had failed.

He’d muster the strength to fight again. To rally his men. He just ... he needed to sleep.

Aedion didn't notice when Ren left, undoubtedly in search of the shifter with who he was so damned enamored.

He should summon his Bane commanders. See how they thought to manage this disaster.

But he couldn't. Could do nothing but stare into that fire as the long night passed.