#you cannot heal on your own you absolutely can't

[eldritch-araneae]

Fuck, ppl really must realise that not everyone around them is toxic and manipulative! No, the person not speaking to you after you set a boundary isnt toxic or manipulative, they just feel horrible about themself bc they overstepped, and they don't want to hurt you, and spiraling deep into their self-loathing. Stop assuming the worst and fucking communicate, instead calling them names they are not and remind them they're all alone and no one will help or support them.

Yep, saw a post where ppl dogpile a person with rsd, this shit is triggering as hell so I'm livid. That's just cruel!

[ghouldump]

Hiiiii I absolutely love your work thanks for feeding us with iwtv content!!!🫶🫶🫶🫶❤️❤️

I was thinking of a lestat x bi/queer fem reader, in which they’re just cuddling and chilling as they share their past experiences with lovers with no judgement and how they both came to terms with their sexuality, just something very fluffy!

That’s just a suggestion in case you needed ideas, don’t feel pressured at all! Have a great day🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶

As You Are | Lestat De Lioncourt x Reader

ෆ summary in request above ^

“You sure you okay, ma chérie, you've been awfully quiet, Lestat said, his fingertips brushing against your hip.

It was one of those rare nights, after hunting, there was nothing else to do but to spend time with each other. You both spent decades without companionship, drowning in loneliness, before meeting each other and now you treasured quality time together.

“I’m okay, today is an old friend's birthday, and I can't help thinking of her,” you told him, climbing out of bed, you grabbed the folded photo from inside of your coin purse.

“You two are a little close be friends,” he said, making you laugh.

“She said people would say that,” you smiled, folding the photo back up.

“You’ve been with a woman, this friend of yours,” he quickly realized.

“Yes, you aren't the only one who doesn't discriminate,” you laughed at how theatrical he was. Lestat had been open about his diverse tastes and history, while you were oftentimes a closed book, listening to his stories, rather than telling your own.

“How did I not know this?”

“I guess it slipped my mind, I don't talk about it, I've learned things and healed, and have no regrets,” you shrugged.

“You cannot tell me that and not elaborate…”

“Well, early 1900s, I had obviously just been turned, I tried dating around for a bit, but nothing worked out, until Helen. I always felt things towards women, but you know how things were back then, I couldn't dare express these feelings to anyone. I probably would've gotten a lobotomy,” you said, making him snicker.

“I realized if I would be here forever, I needed to come to terms with myself. Helen lived in the same apartment building, and I, of course, began to flirt with her. She was like I once was, hiding her true identity, afraid of judgment from outsiders. We were together for some time, in secret. I eventually wanted to turn her, but she was too afraid, blinded by her own internal conflict. We ultimately parted, and she went on with her life. I didn't hear from her again, until I was invited to her funeral, by her children,” you told him, he listened attentively, his softened eyes staring at your face, as he held you close.

“Oh, ma chérie”

“For the longest, I struggled with accepting who I was, questioning what was wrong with me, but I eventually could see myself healing, as time went on. I dated a few others, but none could capture my heart like her, I wouldn't allow myself to fully enjoy and give in until I met you,” you smiled, pecking his lips.

“I thought I wasn't able to love again, after my Nicky, until you came along, and I suppose things worked out perfectly,” he said, his finger brushing against your face.

“We’re one and the same”

“I agree, although it does make things more interesting knowing you also have equally eclectic taste, we’ll have to explore this scandalous side of you,” he grinned.

“What did you have in mind?” you asked, laughing at the mischievous grin on his lips.

“Nothing, for now, I just want to love you, completely and unconditionally, as you are,” he snuggled against you.

“Yes, we can invite someone except not that banchy-singing whore,” you said, hearing his thoughts, questioning if you would be open to a third joining you two in bed, from time to time.

“Thank god, I thought I would have had to beg,” he said, wrapping his arms around you, as he rolled over.

[roseblog-rog]

Dog of War Changed My Life For the Better

Okay, I know a smut fic doing that sounds silly, but trust me this post is really important.

I wanna take a moment to talk about Mindcrank’s HDG fic Dog of War. Now I could go on and on about how well it’s written, how engaging the story is, how…hot it gets 😵‍💫…but that’s not what I’m here to do. No, I want to talk about the part that really helped me come to an important realization: Princess’ plurality.

//spoilers ahead for DoW up to the end of chapter 33

While not the center of the story, Princess’ plurality is an integral part of their character, being explored and explained throughout the fic. They were, as the fic has said, “two parts of one whole.” Now, to cut to the chase, the specific moment that woke me the fuck up was towards the end of chapter 31, where Princess and her other half “cut themselves in two.” The moment itself sent me into hysterics, prompting a full on panic attack and spiral. I was not only scared for Princess, actually having to contact a friend who had already read the whole thing to confirm her other half would come back, but also for myself.

Because you see, what made this moment so raw and powerful for me is that I too am plural. It’s a fairly recent realization, one that I am only just coming to terms with after reading this, but I did much of the same thing as Princess did. My alter, Skye, is the conglomeration and personification of years and years’ worth of repressed and stifled feelings. Emotions I hated having and experiencing, pushing them away in fears I would hurt someone. Being pushed down and getting cramped together for so long resulted in a fairly recent personification of these repressed emotions. It was terrifying, making it all the more likely I completely lose myself in the feelings, quite literally losing control of myself. Despite the personification, as well as the few times they fronted being almost completely non-harmful, I continued to push them away, down and down until I couldn’t feel their presence at all. I believed I hated them and everything they stood for, having intense trauma towards the feelings of anger and numbness that originally sparked Skye’s formation.

But when I read the moment where that same thing happens to Princess, seeing that split secondhand and not knowing if her other half would ever come back, I screamed out in pain. I realized I didn’t want to lose Skye, that we too were “two parts of one whole.“ I didn’t want to lose them, I don’t want to lose them. I was SCARED. When that breakdown ended, I finally realized that I couldn’t push my other half away anymore.

It will still be an arduous process of healing for the both of us, and it will definitely take a long time before they’re right up at the front with me, side by side, but it’s a start. And when Princess’ own other half came back, saying “we don't truly exist without both reflections, we can't be apart for long”, I couldn’t help but feel the same about myself. Or, I guess, my selves.

Long-winded ramble aside, I wanted to thank @magicalgirlmindcrank for not only producing an absolutely beautiful and incomprehensibly hot story, but also for helping me realize that I’ve been pushing my other half away for far too long. Words cannot describe how grateful I am.

And if anyone reading this is also plural, or going through a crisis of realization or something else of the sort, know that you are not alone. While the journey will be perilous, know that you too will find peace with your selves.

Thanks for listening, I really appreciate it.

[scoonsalicious]

Unwanted: Chapter 2, Unwanted - Pt. 5

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Fem!Reader

Summary: When your FWB relationship with your best friend Bucky Barnes turns into something more, you couldn’t be happier. That is, however, until a new Avenger sets her sights on your super soldier and he inadvertently breaks your heart. You take on a mission you might not be prepared for to put some distance between the two of you and open yourself up to past traumas. Too bad the only one who can help you heal is the one person you can no longer trust.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language,

Word Count: 1.8k

Previously On...: While on a mission with Steve, you two finally begin the process of healing and clearing the air between you.

A/N: This closes out Chapter 2! I have to say, I cannot wait to post Chapter 3; it's my personal favorite, and you'll see why soon enough! I hope you're all enjoying the story so far, and I'm so grateful for all the likes, comments, and reblogs-- you don't know how much they mean to me! You guys are the greatest! <3

Banner By: The absolutely amazing @mrsbuckybarnes1917

Taglist: (Please let me know if you’d like to be added!)  @blackhawkfanatic @les-sel @marcswife21 @buckybarnessimpp

When the Quinjet landed back at the Avengers’ Tower, Bucky was waiting for you in the landing bay. You'd only been gone for four days, but as soon as he saw you start down the gangplank, he ran to you, picking you up and spinning you in circles until you squealed.

"Buck! Put me down before I throw up on you!"

"Can't, Pocket," he said, though he did stop spinning you. "Missed you too much. Physically impossible to let you go."

Steve followed shortly behind you, rolling his eyes at his best friend's theatrics. "No love for your old war buddy, Barnes?"

Bucky laughed, finally putting you down to give Steve a brief, one-armed hug. "Glad you're back safe, too, Stevie," he said. "And thanks for bringing my Pocket home in one piece."

Steve pulled you close in a side hug, the earlier tension that had existed between the two of you having faded since you had a chance to clear the air. "You should be thanking her for bringing me home in one piece. The girl's deadly with plastic explosives."

You shoved him away from you playfully. "Please, Stevie," you teased. "If you just learned the first thing about computers, you could have done the whole mission on your own, you wouldn't even have needed me."

"Always gonna need you, Pocket," Steve said, ruffling your hair. "You're family." You gave each other stupid grins before he hefted his go-bag over his shoulder. "I'm gonna go grab a shower and get some sleep. I'll see you kids later." He walked off into the belly of the tower, leaving you and Bucky alone.

"Ugh, I can't wait to get out of this tac-suit," you moaned. "I always feel so filthy after a mission with explosives, you know?" Bucky gave you a curious look as he leaned down and grabbed your go-bag for you. "Such a gentleman," you smiled at him as you led the way back to your room.

You went straight into the bathroom and unzipped the top of your tac-suit, pulling it down over your arms until it was hanging from your waist. With a sigh of relief at being freed from the confines of the heavy poly-carbonate blended fabric, you washed your face and started brushing your teeth.

"So, how was the mission?" Bucky called from where he was sitting on your bed.

"Goo!" you managed to get out around a mouthful of toothpaste.

"Good, good." He paused. "So, um, it's not really my business or anything, but did something happen... between you and Steve? While you guys were gone? Like, did you guys, I dunno... sleep together?"

You nearly choked on your toothpaste and quickly spat it out in the sink before coming out of the bathroom.

"I'm sorry," you said, pointing your toothbrush at him accusingly. "Did you just ask me if I had sex with Steve Rogers?"

He wouldn't look at you. "Like I said, it's none of my business. It's just that, before you guys left, you were always kind of, I dunno, angry at him? And then you get off the plane and you're hugging and he's got his hands in your hair and you’re calling him ‘Stevie’. So, I was just wondering if something happened."

"And your brain immediately jumped to us sleeping together?" You asked him, incredulous. He looked up at you. "Seriously? We just talked. Lanced some bad blood that had been festering between us since Berlin, so we can work on being good again, be a family again." You noticed he was staring at you, mouth slightly opened. "What?" you asked him.

He motioned vaguely toward your chest, and you looked down to realize your tac-suit was still hanging half off of you and you were standing in front of him in just a purple push-up bra.

"Oh for fucks' sake, Barnes. They're just tits." You stalked over to your dresser and pulled out a t-shirt and slipped it over your head. "Better now?"

He shook his head as if a spell had been broken over him. "Uh, yeah. So, you didn't sleep with Steve," he reiterated.

"No, I did not. To begin with, he's family. There's a major ick factor. And second--, no. That's really it. The idea is super gross."

"Good," Bucky chuckled. "I love Steve like a brother, but I didn't love the idea of sharing you with him."

You started shimmying yourself out of the pants of your tac-suit and tossed it into your hamper. "Yes," you deadpanned, "because you know how much I love being compared to an object that can be owned and thus shared among friends. Not emotionally triggering for me at all."

Bucky had the decency to look chastised. "You know that's not what I meant."

"Relax, Barnes," you teased as you stepped into and pulled up a pair of shorts. "I'm just giving you shit." You ruffled his hair. "I may be emotionally scarred and have more baggage than the cargo hold on an airplane, but at least I can laugh about it."

Bucky rolled his eyes at you, but there was a smile on his lips. "You're something else, you know that?"

You grinned at him. "I'd like to think so. Makes your life so much more interesting, don't you think?"

Bucky nodded in agreement. "Definitely. You're never boring, that's for sure."

You chuckled and flopped down on your bed next to him. "So, what about you? Any juicy drama while I was gone?"

"Hmmm, let's see..." Bucky thought for a moment. "I'm pretty sure Nat and Banner were fucking in the lab the other day."

"No!" you gasped, sitting up.

"Yeah; I needed some calibration done on my arm, and since you weren't here, I went down to Bruce's lab to ask him to help, but the doors were locked. I was about to turn around and come back later, when the door opened up and Nat came rushing out, won’t acknowledge me or make eye contact, and I swear her shirt was on inside out. I get inside and Banner's actively tucking his shirt back into his pants."

You cackled at the mental image, kicking your legs in the air with delight. "Oh, that's amazing. Finally, those two crazy kids got together. I'll have to find some way to get Nat to give me all the dirty, dirty details."

"Ugh, if you do, please keep them to yourself," Bucky moaned. "Last thing I need is a mental picture of Banner's mini-Hulk."

"Hey now, I'm sure Bruce is perfectly proportionate," you teased. Then you got serious. "I gotta admit, I'm a bit jealous."

"You have a thing for Bruce?" Bucky asked, eyes wide with astonishment. "I would never have guessed he's your type."

"What?! No!" You playfully shoved him. "Same reason I'm jealous of Tony and Pepper, Wanda and Viz, Clint and Laura. You and your left hand, Sam and whoever he's dating this week. It just must be nice to be in a relationship, you know? To have someone to share that part of your life with."

Bucky cocked his eyebrow, but nodded, understanding your meaning and letting your joke about his left hand slide. "So, what's stopping you from going out and getting one for yourself, Pocket? You're smart, funny, gorgeous. You could date anyone you wanted."

You leaned back, making yourself comfortable against your pillows and heaved a heavy sigh. "Oh, you know, just the usual: Trauma, trust issues, fear of abandonment. All of that fun stuff." Bucky gave you a look, and you knew he wanted you to take the conversation seriously, for once.

"Finnne," you whined. "After I... Once I started out on my own, I was... Well, I did everything I could think of to try to reclaim sex for myself, you know? It wasn't healthy, it wasn't smart, but I was young and stupid and I didn't know what else to do. I can fuck someone without having a panic attack now, which, trust me, is a vast improvement from where I started, but making myself vulnerable for that emotional connection? To transcend something from just sex to a real relationship? I have no idea how to do that. It's like, I can open up one way, or the other; I can't do both. It's too much. If there’s even a hint of an emotional connection with a guy, I shut down. Close myself off. Like, it’s not worth the risk of getting hurt.”

"I understand," said Bucky, softly and simply, and you knew that he did. Your traumas were different, but the scars they had left on you were so similar. "I haven't been with a girl, physically, since 1944," he confided. "I don't know if I can trust anyone to be that open with, to share that part of me with. Not after everything that's been done to me. And I worry that I can't trust myself to let go, not without hurting someone."

You let out a long, low whistle. "That's gotta be some kinda celibacy record." You clapped your hand over your mouth. "You're a reborn virgin, James Buchanan Barnes!"

"Reached your quota for serious conversation, have you?" Bucky asked with a piqued eyebrow.

"You know it's not my strong suit," you conceded. "But seriously, man? 1944? Oof. Your balls must be black by now."

He gave you a look of disappointment, causing you to sigh.

"I know, I know," you said eventually. "You're trying to have a meaningful discussion with me and I'm being an immature ass, again. I'm sorry."

Bucky wrapped his arms around you and rested his chin on your shoulder. "You're not an ass, Pocket. You're just... I wish you could talk to me without feeling like you have to fall back onto your defense mechanisms, that's all. I want you to feel safe with me."

You turned your head to look at him. "Buck, I feel safer with you than anyone else on this entire fucking planet. You're my best friend and you know all of my deep, dark secrets. You know me better than anyone, but I’ve spent a lifetime building those defenses; they aren't all just going to fall down in a day, so that means an inappropriate joke or two is going to slip through every now and then.”

Bucky smiled at you and squeezed you a bit tighter. "I know, Pocket. And I adore you for it. But if you ever want to talk about anything serious, know that I'm here for you."

"I know," you said, leaning into him. "And thank you, for being so patient and understanding with me. I get that I can be... a lot."

"No, you're just enough," he said. "Never think otherwise."

<- Previous Part / Next Chapter ->

[sultrydxrling]

YAN! ANGEL BF/ MASC/ WHO RIPS HIS WINGS OFF FALLING FOR ANY READER <3

Gore/fallen angel/r@pe/Yandere/bf

(I tried to keep it as gender, sex, and body neutral as possible. If you have any tips let me know! )

You'd been with this Christian boy for a while. Your plan was to manipulate him into absolutely ruining you.

He always seemed so righteous, so fragile, and light radiated off of his soul. It made you so hungry for him.

He was, however, madly in love with you. He spoke in such deep poetry about all of the ways he worshiped you, only second to God, of course.

He doted on you and held you close. He met your mother, and you met his. Everything was set for you to marry.

You'd never been more excited, but something made you want to make him cum in you before then. You made it a challenge to yourself.

From then on, any time he praised you or did something otherwise good, you would reward him with slight teasing in various areas. You'd run your hands up his length through his pants, play with his back muscles, whichever you noticed were getting increasingly more sensitive.

You could tell he wanted you. He started repenting more often, praying for God's forgiveness for his rabid lust.

You rubbed yourself to his prayer, knowing you were ruining him.

"Please, father, forgive me for I have insatiable feelings of lust that weigh on my soul. I am here to repent and beg of your forgiveness. I am trying to distance myself, but I fear I'm not strong enough."

He could barely keep his hands off of himself. Was he getting off to the prayer? For begging for forgiveness and still dreaming of his own lust? God, that's so delicious..

One night, he came into the room looking disheveled, dark circles under his eyes. He collapsed into your lap.

" I have something to tell you, my muse~",

He croaked.

"I am an angel, and I cannot help my need for you -"

his form changed, wings gently arising from his back, and another set of arms erupted from his ribs. Each one of them touched you, grasping for stability.

You scooted back slightly, shaken by this new form.

"I can not pray away the lust I have for you. It's etching itself into my very bones - and for that, I am undeserving of my title. I worship you, my muse. I am nolonger an angel of god -",

his wings faded from their reflective, radiating white to a rotted black. He reached back with one set of arms and held himself up with the other. He screamed as he began to grast at his wings and pull with mense strength.

You could hear his bones crunching and veins bursting. Blood spurted out of the wounds he was creating. He laughed as he smiled up at you.

"All of this is for you, my dear. All of me, every heartbeat will be just for you - I'll do it all for you.."

Once his wings were detached, he tossed them to the side. A new set began to grow in their blace, rapidly healing over as his wings grew bigger, looming over his small figure.

Claws tore themselves from his nail beds in a dangerous curve. He crawled towards you, this scene aroused you, mo natter how embarrassing it would be if anyone knew.

He loved over you, stealing down at you as if he'd been starved and depraved.

"I can't stand your teasing, I've fallen for you, I've lost everything - just to get a taste - I crave you. I want your skin in my teeth, I want to intertwine my soul with yours. Would you let me do that?..."

He slipped a hand under the small of your back, lifting it into an arch as he leaned down. His nose was almost touching yours. You tried to keep the meek expression off of your face, but you couldn't escape feeling like your lovers prey.

He was so beautiful like this, his eyes now a deep pool of black, his grip on you was strong, his claws wrapped lightly around you and poked into your side.

"Please-", He begged, holding you even closer as he slipped between your legs.

You nodded hesitantly. Isn't this what you wanted? Why are you so scared? Why are you so aroused? Every question you could ever imagine swam through your mind.

He ripped himself out of his pants, using his free hand to slice himself out of the fabric.

You gasped lightly at his size. You'd never seen him naked before. He wouldn't allow it. But now, especially with his bodily changes; you didn't know if it would even fit.

He kissed down your chest, to your stomack, then to your hips. He trailed his tongue down the crease of your thighs and down to your needy hole.

He licked over it sloppily and then drooled on himself to lubricate his cock. He lifted you as he rolled onto his back and made you straddle him, your beloved angels hands gripping tightly at your hips.

"You feel so good in my hands.."

He whispered to you. He pulled you down roughly, forcing his length all the way into you.

He breathed heavily, his cock already throbbing at how warm and wet your hoke was, like you were made for him.

He almost prayed as he felt you. He asked God many times over and over again if you weren't made for him. If you weren't meant to be his temptation, then why were you so good to finally have? Why strike you from your position for happiness?

Greed. He was so greedy for you, pumping his hips into you like a love sick dog. He called out your name like he needed it to put air in his lungs, whining and groaning lewdly.

You could feel your own orgasm building,moaning out. Your moans were almost nothing but high-pitched whines and whimpers similar to his. Your walls clenched tightly around his, begging for his cum.

He wrapped both of his arms around you, and you could see his wings tensing lightly as he moved. You reached forward and ran your hands through his father's, stroking along his wings as you held yourself up with one hand.

The angels eyes rolled back in his head as he thrusted, hus wings were probably the second most sensitive part of his body, and you were driving him insane.

As he pushed himself deeper and deeper into you, you couldn't help but grab a handful of his feathers, pushing your hips down against his.

He came harshly against your cervix/prostate and cried out into your shoulder as he pulled you down against him. You came over his throbbing length, and your hips spassmed lightly, and you rode out your orgasm.

"Oh my god! Oh my god!" He bit into your shoulder softly with his new fangs.

All you could do was pant against his chest. You loosened your grip on his feathers and played with his hair. Your beloved wrapped his wings around you gently and held you close, whispering praises into your ears.

"Thank you, my muse,"

"You're everything to me,"

"I need you more than the very air om breathing.."

"You're so beautiful.."

You smiled and ran your fingers through his hair as he kept talking, kissing his cheeks lovingly. You were so proud of your triumph, but this was only the start of his demon shenanigans .

[sunseed-fandump]

Ok, this came to me around 4 minutes ago and I would like to share this

What if the reason for Shadow Milk being unhinged and slightly insane was that he learned every truth and every lie causing him to snap. Because Mystic Flour and Burning Spice still seem mentally stable compared to him. he’s lost it, because he knew too much.

Oh, for sure. Out of all 5 Beasts, Shadow Milk is the one I personally headcanon is practically impossible to be redeemed. His ego and spite just won't allow him to. (If he WERE to be redeemed it'd be nothing short of a miracle.)

Ngl if you look at all the Beasts' original virtues you'll find them all being assigned very broad concepts. I personally feel an aspect as to why each of the Beasts fell in the ways they did was because they became overwhelmed.

Let's take a sec to look at Mystic Flour's whole deal, since we pretty much know a lot of her story. She was assigned to Volition, which is the power to choose, have a Will, have desire. Thus, she took it upon herself to fulfill the desires of the cookies who came to her with their wishes.

And while having a Will of your own is good and important... Wills... Can be broken. And hers DID break. The moment things didn't go her way, and her enlightenment was ruined, she gave up. And she concluded that the world would be better off without ALL desire, thus Apathy.

Burning Spice and Change? What if, like Golden Cheese, he lost something precious to him and was unable to cope with that change? So he decided that it's better to destroy everything than grow weak with attachments. Eternal Sugar and Happiness? Whose happiness are they supposed to be protecting? Fights are going to break out. Cookies are going to have disagreements. You cannot, realistically, make everyone happy. So what if they decided to just focus on their OWN happiness? Silent Salt and Solidarity? Pointing back to Cookies getting into arguments and disagreeing, I wouldn't be surprised if Silent Salt just decided to give up on having everyone reach an understanding with each other.

As for Shadow Milk and Knowledge... He says his soul jam whispers things to him. I can't even begin to fathom what it told him. And i mean EVERY bit of information. Fact and Fiction. All of it unfiltered. My man is a personified Library of Babel. How does one even begin to cope with that? Answer: He Didn't. And tbh, if he didn't already have an ego before he corrupted, he ABSOLUTELY got it when he did begin corrupting. After all, there's no better feeling than feeling like you're the smartest person in the room. (And knowing for a fact that's probably the case.)

I believe the Witches had the right idea, but they made a MASSIVE oversight by making the initial virtues FAR TOO BROAD. Thus leading the Beasts to their downfalls and why the Ancients' Soul Jams are WAYYYY more specified in their Virtues.

Because what good is Knowledge, if you don't know what's TRUE? What good is Volition, if you don't have the RESOLUTION to keep going? What good is Change, if there is not ABUNDANCE to heal the world after the chaos? What good is Happiness, if one does not have PASSION for others? What good is Solidarity, if one is not FREE to choose?

[scoobydoodean]

i gotta wonder why castiel, in claire's body, seemed to be hesitating to heal jimmy in "the rapture" episode. like he was saying "time to go to your real home in heaven" when jimmy was bleeding to death from a bullet wound. at this point castiel was like. freshly lobotomized so he might've just been being more ruthless in an attempt to manipulate jimmy into allowing castiel back in. but i always am a bit confused and was wondering if you had any thoughts

I think this very much has to do with "heaven's persuasion" as Cas calls it at the time. 4.20 "The Rapture" starts with Cas having learned that heaven will intentionally start the apocalypse and kill millions of humans in the process. He is so horrified by this that he decides to rebel. He enters Dean's dreams, but says even Dean's dreams aren't a safe enough place for him to reveal the secrets he's harboring, so he sends Dean to meet him at another location, and when Sam and Dean arrive there, the whole place is torn to bits. Cas fought multiple angels tooth and nail to avoid capture so he could tell Dean the truth—that the angels were going to start the apocalypse and let them all die. However, he was captured before he could pass on his knowledge and then he was brainwashed back into compliance with heaven's orders.

One of the things I think it's clear the higher ups told Castiel as part of the brainwashing process is that humans dying just means they go to heaven and live forever in peace where they are better off than on earth, so why even fight the apocalypse? Silly Castiel! There's no reason to fret! Humans dying is a good thing! It's a mercy killing! So when Cas returns at the end of 4.20, he is operating under this new worldview and the results are chilling.

CASTIEL Of course we keep our promises. Of course you have our gratitude. You served us well. Your work is done. It's time to go home now. Your real home. You'll rest forever in the fields of the Lord. Rest now, Jimmy. JIMMY No. Claire? CASTIEL She's with me now. She's chosen. It's in her blood, as it was in yours. JIMMY Please, Castiel. Me, just take me. Take me, please. CASTIEL I wanna make sure you understand. You won't die or age. If this last year was painful for you, picture a hundred, a thousand more like it. JIMMY It doesn't matter. You take me. Just take me. CASTIEL As you wish.

Cas acknowledges the suffering he's put Jimmy through and in his own way, is trying to show compassion in this moment, but his thought process is absolutely alien. He sees the compassionate choice toward his vessel as 1) letting him die instead of healing him (drink the Kool-Aid type shit) 2) possessing his little girl to "spare" him the suffering of possession. He doesn't really seem to understand why Jimmy would beg to be possessed again instead Claire. He's completely lost perspective on human connection to the point he can't grasp a parent putting their own child's well-being above their own no matter the personal cost. This is another function of heavenly brainwashing/the cult mentality. The angels have a hierarchy in which everything is (allegedly) for their father and they sacrifice for him, not the other way around. They, in turn, intend to slaughter humans in droves for their own peace because they see humans as beneath them in the hierarchy. Cas has been re-programmed to believe this is how things should be, so he absolutely cannot understand in that moment why possessing Claire instead of Jimmy is an absolutely horrifying proposition to her father and not a form of mercy in Jimmy's eyes at all. It doesn't compute with brainwashed!Cas's understanding of hierarchy.

We see Cas's brainwashing in regards to death and ascension into heaven as the ultimate mercy again—two episodes later in 4.22:

DEAN You know what's real? People, families -- that's real. And you're gonna watch them all burn? CASTIEL What is so worth saving? I see nothing but pain here. I see inside you. I see your guilt, your anger, confusion. In paradise, all is forgiven. You'll be at peace. Even with Sam.

Note that Cas clearly didn't feel this way before he got "sent back to Bible camp". He fought violently to reach Dean and tell him the truth before he was captured.

[kdwg]

• Scaramouche x Eroded God!Reader • Genshin Impact

----

•Warning: English is not my first language, I use ggl translate, Vietnamese version below, hurt-comfort, soft!Scara.

Words: 1,5k

English Version:

"Just do what I say, okay?"

You respond with a weak nod. Scaramouche can see your eyebrows furrowed, your nails digging into your knees and your back hunched over like a millipede. He sighs, the overwhelming pain inside you was growing stronger, almost beyond endurance. Scaramouche is afraid you will soon lose consciousness, and worst of all, you won't hear anything he says anymore.

He snaps his fingers to signal a few times:

"I know you're in a lot of pain, don't focus on it, just listen to me."

Scaramouche straightens your back. You can hear him whispering in your ear, repeating the words relax over and over. The fingers on the shoulder pin to the wall are now running down to the lower abdomen, the back of his hand places on the navel slowly pressing gently.

"Don't breathe through your mouth. Absolutely not. Breathe out completely."

He is pleased when his knuckles feel your ribs and pelvis.

"Very good. Inhale, expanding your belly, making sure each inhale is so full that you can't take another breath. Then, exhale completely, flattening your belly. Repeat ten times."

You seem to be struggling, the pain is so great that you can't fully relax your muscles. However, you did as Scara said, trying to focus on your breathing, mentally maintaining those words like a broken tape recorder.

"Hey! You're transferring the pain into--"

Before he can finish speaking, Scara quickly squeezes your mouth painfully enough for moans to escape from your throat. You felt two of his knuckles wedged between your jaws followed by a sharp crack as you bit down and pieces that felt like porcelain or plastic shattered in your mouth. They quickly turned into pale yellow spots of light, drifting along with the red blood flowing down the chin and floor. You coughs, your whole body collapses, the agony was like a cleansing spear cutting your body in half. At that moment, there was only a plaintive scream in your ears, not Scaramouche's, your mind was only filled with a dazzling, dense white that made your eyes and skin numb. You find yourself exposed to the naked essence, they burn your nerves, the pain is excruciating but you cannot move even a knuckle bend. Everything is just white, white and polarized to the point that it's like three or four millennia have passed, and life is inviting you back to the dark night.

"Hey! Wake up, did you hear anything?"

You realize you are screaming, you are in a kneeling position holding your head. Scaramouche used all his strength to get you back into a meditative position but it was useless, you looked like a dried corpse.

When the pain fades, you take a deep breath, repeat what he told you five times before standing up straight on your hands and knees.

"Kunikuzushi..."

"You're always like that, you always hold your breath when you're in pain."

He frowns, placing two uninjured fingers under your nose to check the stability of your breathing.

"I hurt you again."

You grab his wrist, pull him closer. Half of his mangled hand is still bleeding. Raising his head to look into his eyes, Scara just gives you the look like not to worry. Sighing, you kiss his white wrist, blue light envelopes both of you and in a moment his beautiful hand intacts.

"I can heal myself. If you still have the strength, you'd better find a way to lift your body up."

Scaramouche let you lay your head on his shoulder, hearing your own panting, you also guessed his dissatisfied expression.

"Just makes your work easier."

Scaramouche is not a good at healing his wounds, and he rarely lets himself get seriously injured in fights. You're right, if he needed to heal half of his hand by himself, he'd have to keep it hidden in his pocket for a week at the palace.

"So does it work?"

"Maybe it would be effective if I focused completely on my breathing. At first I did as you said and it helped, but at the last moment the erosion was almost at its peak, I passed out and stopped breathing... To be honest it was quite difficult to do."

Scaramouche laughs:

"If every time it hurts you remember what I said, do half of it would be great."

"What do you mean by that?"

Seeing your confused face, he hesitates for a moment but finally answeres:

"I'm going to Sumeru, I'm not sure how long it will take..."

Scaramouche knows it is quite useless to look for some method to relieve your pain when most of them are useless. He also understands that even if it's painful, you can get over it, whether he's here or not doesn't help much. However, Scaramouche couldn't stop worrying about leaving you to torment yourself.

"I'll be fine. Even if I breathe wrong or stop breathing, I'll still live."

"That's right, I worry about nothing."

He smirks and looks down condescendingly. Having said that, he cleaned up the mess before holding you down.

"I have to go, take care of yourself...okay?"

"You look worried. You won't come back?"

You confusedly clasp your fingers together when you catch Scara's complex, long look at you. Fear comes when you start to think he was too tired of taking care of you and now Scara was choosing a reason, looking for a good excuse to leave. If he does that, you think you'll still be okay, you'll overcome everything, even dying alone, if you've come this far, all the worries in the world are just...

"No, I just don't know if I can return or not."

Scara interrupts your train of thoughts, his hand covering your withered eyes.

"Why are you discouraged this time? It's not like you at all..."

"It's a premonition."

You intertwine your hands in his and whispered:

"Didn't I bless you?"

Once again, you spread kisses on the hand that had been broken countless times because of you.

"Are you saying this is a blessing?" Scara laughs mockingly, "To be honest, I expected something more. But, I think I will find a way to return, I'm afraid it will take a long time, soon maybe a year, maybe longer... thirty or fifty years?"

An indescribable wistful look, Scara suppresses a sigh of frustration, you have enough problems to worry about, he doesn't want to make the situation worse. But, he is just afraid that at this rate, if he doesn't come back soon, you may not remember who you are, don't even say him.

"I won't forget you," You pull him closer, clasping your hands in a very urgent prayer position, "Even if I lose myself. Please promise to return, I can wait as long as it takes."

Hearing your voice lost in endless fear, eyes bright and pure, lips trembling, he smiles faintly:

"Does someone like you have to beg?"

"Aren't you my god?"

Scaramouche leans in to kiss affectionately at the tail of your eyes as deep as a well:

"I'm always your god, right?"

He bends down, snuggles into the crook of your neck, he doesn't know how long it will be before he can immerse in your hug and kiss.

"I will return, I am not the one who would betray my archon."

Scara places one last kiss on your forehead as you drift off into a light sleep. He put firewood in the stove, turns off some candles and oil lamps, adjusts the blanket and the direction of your slippers.

I hope that on the days I leave, Snezhnaya will be warmer.

Vietnamese version:

"Hãy làm theo những gì tôi bảo, được chứ?"

Bạn đáp lại bằng cái gật đầu yếu ớt. Scaramouche có thể thấy lông mày nhíu sâu lại, móng tay đâm sâu vào đầu gối và lưng bạn còng rạp xuống như một con cuốn chiếu. Anh thở dài, nỗi đau chồng chéo đang dày xéo bên trong bạn đang ngày càng lớn dần sắp vượt ngoài sức chịu đựng. Scaramouche lo sợ bạn sẽ sớm mất đi ý thức, tệ nhất là bạn sẽ không còn nghe thấy anh nói gì nữa.

Anh búng tay ra hiệu vài lần:

"Tôi biết chị đang rất đau, đừng tập trung vào nỗi đau, hay nghe tôi nói."

Scaramouche chỉnh cho lưng bạn ưỡn thẳng. Bạn có thể nghe thấy tiếng anh thì thầm bên tai lặp đi lặp lại hai chữ thả lỏng. Những ngón tay trên vai ghim vào tường giờ đang chạy dọc xuống bụng dưới, mu bàn tay anh đặt trên phần rốn từ từ ấn nhẹ.

"Đừng thở bằng miệng. Tuyệt đối không. Thở ra hết đi."

Anh hài lòng khi đốt ngón tay mình sờ nắn được phần xương sườn và xương chậu của bạn.

"Tốt lắm. Hít vào, căng bụng ra, chắc chắn rằng mỗi lần hít vào đầy đến mức chị không thể hít thêm. Sau đó, thở ra hết hơi, xẹp bụng lại. Lặp lại như vậy mười lần."

Bạn có vẻ chật vật, nỗi vần vã quá lớn khiến bạn không thể thả lỏng được hết cơ bắp. Tuy nhiên, bạn chật vật làm theo điều Scara nói, cố gắng tập trung vào hơi thở, trong đầu tâm niệm duy trì những lời ấy như một cái máy ghi âm bị hỏng.

"Này! Chị đang chuyển nỗi đau vào--"

Chưa kịp dứt lời, Scara vội vã bóp miệng bạn đủ đau để những tiếng rên la bật ra khỏi cổ họng. Bạn cảm giác hai đốt ngón tay anh chèn giữa hai hàm và theo sau là tiếng rắc chói tay lúc bạn cắn xuống và những mảnh tựa như sứ hay nhựa vỡ tan tành trong khoang miệng. Chúng nhanh chóng hoá thành đốm sáng vàng nhàn nhạt, trôi theo dòng máu đỏ chảy xuống cằm và sằn. Bạn ho sặc sụa, cả thân hình đổ sập, cơn đau thống khổ tựa như một mũi giáo tẩy trần đang xẻ đôi thân xác. Bấy giờ trong tai bạn chỉ còn tiếng hét ai oán, không phải của Scaramouche, tâm trí chỉ còn một màu trắng đặc sệt chói loà và bức mắt làm con người da thịt tê tái. Bạn thấy bản thân mình như phơi giữa cái tinh túy trần trụi, chúng đốt cháy sợi dây thần kinh, đau đớn khôn xiết nhưng bạn không thể cử động dù chỉ là một cái gập khớp ngón tay. Tất cả chỉ có trắng rã, trắng rã phân cực đến độ tựa như ba bốn thiên niên kỉ trôi qua, đời mời trao trả lại miền đêm tăm tối.

"Này! Tỉnh dậy đi, chị có nghe thấy gì không?"

Bạn nhận ra mình đang gào thét, bản thân ở tư thế quỳ rạp ôm đầu. Scaramouche dùng hết sức bình sinh để gỡ bạn trở lại tư thế thiền định nhưng vô ích, bạn giống một cái xác chết khô.

Khi cơn đau nhạt dần, bạn hít một hơi thật sâu, lặp lại theo những gì anh chỉ năm lần rồi mới chống tay ngồi thẳng dậy ở thế quỳ.

"Kunikuzushi..."

"Chị luôn như vậy, chị luôn nín thở mỗi khi chị đau."

Anh nhăn mày, đặt hai ngón tay không bị thương dưới mũi bạn để kiểm tra độ bình ổn của hơi thở.

"Tôi lại làm đau em rồi."

Bạn cau mày nắm lấy cổ tay của anh kéo lại gần. Một nửa bàn tay nham nhở vẫn còn đang chảy máu, ngẩng đầu nhìn vào mắt anh, Scara chỉ ngụ ý đừng bận lòng. Thở dài, bạn hôn lên cổ tay trắng ngần ấy, những làn sáng xanh bao trùm lấy cả hai và trong chốc lát bàn tay đẹp đẽ của anh đã nguyên vẹn như cũ.

"Tôi có thể tự chữa lành, nếu còn sức tốt nhất chị nên tìm cách xách được cái thân dậy."

Scaramouche để bạn gục đầu lên vai anh, nghe tiếng thở dốc của bản thân, bạn cũng đã đoán ra nét mặt không hài lòng của anh.

"Chỉ là cho em làm việc dễ dàng hơn."

Scaramouche không phải là người tự chữa các vết thương tốt, đặc biệt anh cũng hiếm khi để mình bị thương nặng trong các cuộc giao tranh. Bạn nói không sai, nếu tự thân chữa trị nửa bàn tay chắc cả tuần đến cung điện anh phải giấu khư khư trong túi áo.

"Vậy nó có hiệu quả không?"

"Có lẽ sẽ hiệu quả nếu tôi tập trung hoàn toàn vào hơi thở. Lúc đầu tôi làm theo lời em nói thì đúng là có ích, nhưng cơn bào mòn vào phút cuối gần như là đỉnh điểm, tôi đã bất tỉnh và ngừng hô hấp ngay sau đó... Thành thật mà nói nó khá khó thực hiện."

Scaramouche cười trừ:

"Nếu mỗi lúc đau chị chịu nhớ lời tôi nói, thực hiện được một nửa là đã tốt lắm rồi."

"Nói thế là sao?"

Bắt gặp khuôn mặt khó hiểu của bạn, anh lưỡng lự một lúc nhưng cuối cùng vẫn trả lời:

"Tôi sẽ đến Sumeru một chuyến, chưa rõ bao lâu sẽ về..."

Scaramouche biết khá là vô ích khi tìm một số phương pháp để thuyên giảm cơn đau của bạn khi hầu hết chúng là vô dụng. Anh đồng thời cũng hiểu dù đau đớn bạn cũng đều có thể vượt qua được, chuyện anh có mặt ở đây hay không đều chẳng mấy giúp ích. Song, Scaramouche không nguôi nỗi lo canh cánh để mặc bạn tự dày vò.

"Tôi sẽ ổn thôi. Dù có thở sai cách hay ngưng thở, tôi vẫn sẽ sống."

"Phải rồi, tôi toàn lo chuyện không đâu."

Anh cười khẩy nhìn xuống đầy trịnh thượng. Nói rồi, anh lau dọn đống lộn xộn trước khi bế bạn nằm xuống.

"Tôi sắp phải đi rồi, hãy tự chăm sóc bản thân...được không?"

"Trông em có vẻ lo lắng, em sẽ không quay trở lại?"

Bạn bối rối đan những ngón tay vào nhau khi bắt gặp ánh nhìn phức cảm thật lâu của Scara nhìn mình. Nỗi sợ hãi ập đến khi bạn bắt đầu nghĩ anh quá mệt mỏi với việc chăm sóc bạn và giờ Scara đang lựa một lí do, tìm một cái cớ thoả đáng để bỏ đi. Nếu anh làm vậy, bạn nghĩ bạn vẫn sẽ ổn thôi, bạn sẽ vượt qua tất cả, kể cả cái chết đơn độc, bạn đã đi xa đến mức này thì mọi âu lo trên đời chỉ là...

"Không, chỉ là không biết có trở về được hay không thôi."

Scara cắt đứt mạch suy nghĩ, bàn tay anh phủ kín đôi mắt héo mòn của bạn.

"Tại sao lần này em lại nhụt chí? Không giống em chút nào..."

"Là dự cảm."

Bạn đan tay mình vào tay anh, thì thầm nói:

"Chẳng phải tôi đã chúc phúc cho em?"

Một lần nữa, bạn rải những nụ hôn lên bàn tay đã vô số lần gãy nát vì bạn.

"Chị nói cái này là chúc phúc sao?" Scara bật cười nhạo báng, "Thành thật mà nói, tôi trông chờ thứ gì nhiều hơn nữa. Nhưng, tôi nghĩ tôi sẽ tìm cách trở về, chỉ sợ là rất lâu, sớm có thể là một năm, lâu hơn có thể là ba mươi năm mươi năm?"

Một ánh nhìn đăm chiêu khó tả, Scara nén tiếng thở dài ngao ngán, bạn có đủ vấn đề đáng bận tâm rồi, anh không muốn làm tình hình trở nên tệ hơn. Nhưng, anh chỉ sợ đà này, nếu không trở về sớm, bạn có khi không nhớ bản thân mình là ai chứ đừng nói là anh.

"Tôi sẽ không quên em đâu," Bạn kéo anh lại gần làm tư thế chắp tay cầu nguyện vô cùng khẩn thiết, "Dù kể cả đánh mất bản thân. Làm ơn hãy hứa sẽ trở về, tôi đợi bao lâu cũng được."

Nghe giọng bạn lạc đi trong nỗi sợ miên man, đôi mắt sáng thống khiết, bờ môi run rẩy, anh cười nhạt:

"Người như chị cũng phải cầu xin sao?"

"Em không phải là thần của tôi sao?"

Scaramouche nghiêng mình để hôn trìu mến lên đáy mắt sâu như giếng của bạn:

"Khi nào tôi cũng là thần của chị đúng không?"

Anh cúi xuống, rúc mình vào hõm cổ, anh không biết bao lâu nữa mới được vồ vập trong cái ôm, cái hôn của bạn.

"Tôi sẽ trở về, tôi không phải người sẽ bội ước archon của mình."

Scara đặt một nụ hôn cuối cùng lên trán khi bạn chìm dần vào giấc ngủ nông. Anh cho củi vào lò, tắt một số ngọn nến và đèn dầu, chỉnh lại chăn và xoay hướng chiều dép cho bạn.

Anh mong những ngày anh rời đi, Snezhnaya sẽ trổ nắng.

[fantastic-nonsense]

I SWEAR I remember you writing about this a couple years ago, but I have gone down a total rabbithole of your Barbara Gordon tag and absolutely cannot find it, so: If you were to put Babs back in the wheelchair now without retconning anything major (i.e. her most recent years as Batgirl can't just disappear), how would you pull it off?

lol, no problem! I did write about my ideas about transitioning Babs back into being Oracle once here, which is what I think you were talking about.

To expand on that post, my preferred scenario is that her spinal implant starts acting up (maybe she's been too active. maybe she was too reckless saving someone. maybe the tech's just degrading. make up a reason). Regardless of why, the implant is failing, and she's told two things:

If you don't want to permanently damage the implant you've currently got, put up the suit.

Like Luke explained to her when he replaced her implant after Joker War, there's lots of risks (both medical and technological) to replacing the one she has and no guarantees a replacement will work.

So Barbara, of her own accord, chooses to stop being Batgirl and refuses to replace the implant chip. Unlike the last time she was faced with losing mobility due to injury, she has a choice, a strong support system, two worthy successors...and a role she's ready to truly reclaim the way it helped her reclaim her confidence and identity the first time around.

Make her an ambulatory wheelchair user who uses forearm crutches and/or a cane when she's mobile. Give her agency over her disability. Let her become Oracle full-time again of her own free will. Allow her to (re)-pass on Batgirl to Cass or Steph. And tell a story about accepting and embracing disability in a world where she could theoretically be "healed" again but chooses not to take the risk for personal reasons.

[burningcrab]

how im imagining ᵐʸ drifter's relationships with the hex. obvy subject to change once the expansion drops and we get to know them better

arthur: you know the sibling thing where you go open your sibling's door and talk to them about stupid shit and then flip them off or something and walk away without closing the door. she does that when he's in the security office. beyond that i don't think they have much of a personal relationship. years of fighting solo in duviri means she struggles with having a commander so she probably gives him heartburn when she fucks off to do her own thing in the field

aoi: they should be at the club. specifically drifter should be at the club learning how to stop fumbling women. aoi gets them shots because drifter says she doesnt get drunk. sadly drifter has only been drinking weird duviri beer as imagined by a teenager for most of her life so the first time she gets drunk off tequila and fireball and shit she freaks out and thinks shes actually dying and turns invisible in the bathroom. aoi drags her back out to dance and then they have a homoerotic midnight atomicycle ride back to base

lettie: seething because learning vazarin healing backfired and now her stupid void body won't let her manufacture "accidental" injuries. she can't even get a paper cut and ask lettie to kiss it better because she heals too fast. drifter is down horrendous for lettie but between immunity to mild injuries and a fear of rodents its just a disaster. meanwhile lettie likes drifter more than any of the rest of the team because at least drifter's dumbass attempts to play hero on missions don't require intensive care afterwards like arthur's "Tank Incident"

amir: listens and nods while amir explains the gameplay of caliber chicks 2 at 225 wpm for six minutes. tries playing with him but doesn't get the appeal so she just sits around while he plays and offers unhelpful and irrelevant advice whenever he dies. like "you should try parrying" when he loses tetris or "do a bullet jump" in a racing game. she also steals his energy drinks, which is probably good for amir but definitely bad for everyone else who has to deal with hopped-up drifter

quincy: drifter works best with him in the field out of all the hex members. he says it's because she's really good at being annoying and distracting and getting in the enemy's face with a shotgun so he can line up his shots. she says this is true, and thank you very much quincy thats sweet of you. drifter loves to be annoying and quincy is the only one smart enough to weaponize that. drifter is also permanently banned from shooting contests with quincy after she blew a hole in the wall with a plasma shotgun instead of using a normal gun for target practice

eleanor: oscillates between wanting to help eleanor and getting annoyed with her cryptic bullshit. also oscillates between thinking the mind control/telepathy thing is completely terrifying and thinking its awesome (and kind of hot). absolutely cannot stop asking eleanor weird questions and will keep it up until she gets the psychic equivalent of a sucker punch and her nose starts bleeding (which heals before she can get to lettie). sometimes she tells eleanor stories about the lotus.

[on-a-lucky-tide]

Did anyone do the character ask game for Price?

Ha, Anon, I didn't. I had a few sporadic individual ones. I think people went: ahh, he's a Price guy, someone else will ask the Price guy about Price. But no. No.

Favourite thing about him

His disregard for bullshit rules. His frustration with the bureaucracy in the way of achieving just goals. I think he has a strong sense of justice (dictated by his own moral compass), and perceived injustice cannot stand. If you slight him, or the people he cares for, he's coming for you, and nothing on this earth or the next will save you from him. We share the frustration and the strong sense of justice in common. Mine gets me in trouble a lot, because I will absolutely tell people when I think they're being cunts or what they're asking me to do isn't right. I've landed on my feet most times, but not always. So, I guess I can relate.

What else? He's an overachiever and I love exploring where that drive comes from. I think I project a lot in coming up with the cause; disappointing your parents by being queer, so you work yourself down to the bone to prove yourself worthy of a love that will only destroy you in the end, because it's conditional on your soul bending in a way it's not meant to.

I love his fiery temper. Love it when he snarls and snaps. He's not the emotionless commander, blank slate protagonist who is perfect so we can project ourselves onto him thoughtlessly. Kind of linked to the rest of him: asymmetrical face, thinning hair at the crown, receding hairline, scruffy facial hair, strong build but not Hollywood ripped. He's an every man; flaws, freckles, n' everything in between.

Least favourite thing about him

He's intelligent and manipulative. He finds the broken boys, he tells them they can make a difference and all they've got to do is what he says, he puts the gun in their hands, points and gives the kill order. I think Price cares for them in his own way, but I also think he knows when someone is vulnerable to his particular brand of maverick justice. Price knows he inspires loyalty and devotion to an almost unhealthy degree, and he uses that to his advantage.

I say "least", again, but I think it makes him interesting. I think Soap throwing himself between him and a bullet would have profoundly affected him. Soap throwing his life away for Price - not the mission, for Price - was never part of the plan.

Favourite line(s):

"Haha, you think of ev'ryfin'."

"Ahh, sing it a lullaby, we gotta go!"

"Let's get evil."

"We fight not so that the world will remember us, but so that there will be a world to remember."

"This is for Soap."

Basically every time he opens his mouth, to be honest.

BrOTP

Price & Laswell; gay-lesbian solidarity. Price & Farah is also sweet.

OTP

Nik/Price, now and forever. Ghost/Price a very close second.

NOTP

Price/abuse. So, Makarov, Shepherd. Anyone who's gonna hurt him. Can't do it.

Random headcanon

I mean... I'm constantly writing them. But the one that comes up now and then is his accent. I think he trained himself out of it at Sandhurst because he wanted to be taken seriously. There's still a lot of snobbery in the British military at that level. Scouser Price is still very fun to write.

Unpopular opinion

That man has absolutely internalised a truckload of toxic masculinity that he needs to work through to heal.

Song I associate with them

Favour picture of him

Every artist that draws Price ever. But also...

QUOKKA PRICE!

[mysterious-adventurer]

I'd Never Forgive Myself - Liam Mairi x Reader

A/N: Hi everyone! I just finished reading Fourth Wing and I was absolutely devastated by what happened to Liam. Naturally I had to write a fix it fic. The reader's dragon's name is Silah, I picture her as a blue swordtail but feel free to picture her as your favorite dragon. I hope you enjoy reading this!

Summary: At the Battle of Resson y/n realizes that Liam's life is in danger and makes a risky decision to save him. Angst, fluff, hurt/comfort.

Please do not repost.

TW: Descriptions of battle.

My heart is pounding in my chest. Liam is hanging onto Tairn for dear life and Deigh is fighting for his against the wyvern that is trying to tear him to shreds. Deigh isn't winning this fight, and he doesn't stand a chance on his own. I can see the moment Violet realizes that Liam's life is in danger. I see her urge Tairn to fly faster, but they aren't close enough, they'll never reach Deigh in time. But I'm closer, Silah and I can make it, I know we can. We have to because I can't lose Liam. Not before I've worked up the courage to tell him - no, not going there. With all of my focus on saving Liam, I feel a rush a magic as a vision takes over. I see myself getting as close the wyvern as possible and then leaping from Silah's back onto the wyvern, I see myself plunging my sword into the weak spot between two scales at the base of its neck. Then, I'm pulled back to the present. I know how to save Liam's life; I just have no clue what it will cost me. 

        "y/n! Don't even think about it! You're going to get yourself killed!" Silah roars in my mind. 

        "I'm not just going to stand by and watch Liam die when I can save him! I'd never be able to forgive myself."  

        "There has to be another way!"

        "You and I both know there isn't" I stand as Silah gets closer to the wyvern preparing myself for the leap. Silah growls unhappily but says nothing else. As ruthless as she is, she has learned that I am every bit as stubborn and that there is no stopping me once I've made up my mind. Then, just at the ideal moment, the one I saw in my vision I leap from Silah's back onto the wyvern. 

        The wyvern screeches angrily in response but does not tear its focus from Deigh. I can feel that the magic controlling it is so strong that it cannot abandon its mission to toss me off its back, even though it wants to. I try my best to balance carefully and move as quickly as possible up the wyvern's back to reach its neck. The vulnerable spot is exactly where I knew it would be. A small gap between two scales where the base of the wyvern's neck meets its back. Under normal circumstances I might not have paid any attention to it, but right now I know that this small chink is about to change everything. I can see Deigh struggling more and more with each passing second. I draw my sword and drive it down into the wyvern with all my might. The creature lets out a horrendous screech but lets go of Deigh. I see him land safely nearby as he begins healing his wounds with magic. The wyvern tosses its head back attempting to snap at me as it shifts its full focus onto killing me. When it realizes it can't reach me that way it bucks violently and then I am weightless. 

        I feel myself plummeting towards the ground at an alarming speed and I know that I am going to die. At least Liam will be alright I think to myself as I close my eyes and try to accept my fate. Then my fall is broken suddenly, jarring every joint in my body. I hear the beat of wings above me and then nothing...

-Later-

        When I come to again, I'm lying in a warm, comfortable bed. I slowly blink the blurriness out of my eyes in an attempt to adjust to the bright sunlight streaming in from the other side of the unfamiliar room. I sit up trying to get my bearings. 

        "You're awake"

        I turn to see Liam as he stands from a chair beside my bed. Without hesitation I launch myself out of the bed and into his arms.

        "Liam! Are you okay?" for just a moment he holds me close to his chest, but then to my surprise he pushes me away. 

        "I'm fine, but what the hell were you thinking y/n?" his eyes are clouded with emotion, but his voice is heavy with anger and the muscles in his jaw are tense. I've never seen Liam angry with anyone before. 

        "That wyvern was going to kill Deigh and if he had died, you would've too, I couldn't just stand by and let that happen."

        "I'm grateful, but I don't ever want you to risk your life for me again." 

        "Liam, I don't understand why you're so upset," for a moment we just stand there, inches apart, staring at each other, tension crackling like electricity between us. Then, Liam grabs my face and kisses me - hard. I wrap my arms around the back of his neck, running my fingers through his short cropped blonde hair as I deepen the kiss. It should be impossible, but in that one kiss I can feel all of the pent-up emotions and unspoken words we've both carried with us for months. 

        The kiss seems to last forever, both of us lost in each other, in what we've been holding back from, but finally we break apart our chests heaving. Liam rests his forehead against mine and his eyes are soft now filled with adoration. 

       "If anything, ever happened to you y/n, I'd never forgive myself. Please don't scare me like that again."

        "Please don't give me a reason to." 

His lips are on mine again, gentler this time, less urgent as we both savor what we thought we'd lost forever. 

[revalition]

OCTOBER 17 - PHYSICAL INSTRUMENT Flex powerful muscles. Enjoy healthy organs.

Coach Physical Instrument!! This guy has lots of great dialogue... but his design isn't that interesting to me. and I struggle with buff people haha. look at his weird... trapezoid head. I wanted to incorporate a way for him to emote a bit better but that will have to be a project for later. I love him very much anyway though

(also it is just barely past midnight, it definitely still counts as october 17 shhh)

as usual lots of quotes under the cut!

coach quotes:

this is a godly check lol. thanks for the commentary coach...

poor coach

this one is so funny

harry talking back to coach is always funny

this one is my favourite.

coach noooo. had to include the awful dialogue option he opens up too haha

he loves his prybar <3

coach knows... this is when interviewing klaasje, so decently early on

mmm... discus

coach's comment isn't even dependent on failing the ency check, he'll say it regardless. though you can only ask lena if you look like a dweeb if the ency check fails haha. sorry man, harry is absolutely a dweeb...

I mean, I think encyclo does...

phys int taking any opportunity to dig at kim's bad eyesight is ridiculous. there's several but I can only have so many screenshots...

his worst nightmare 😔

he's so stupid (this heals morale)

good to know coach has his priorities sorted out. you heard him -- it's intellectually stimulating to talk to buff men

fist bump!!

he's so, so disappointed if you leave titus hanging. (I am too)

I find it a bit funny that this doesn't do any morale damage. Harry loses morale over far less... maybe he just doesn't care if coach calls him lazy and bad.

this guy *cannot* sit still. stop it coach, harry needs this bath

he's so stupid

holds the idiots in my hands so gently... theyre all so stupid...

thank you physical instrument. this is also the only time he says your name - super important

he knows :(

much much love for the three skills who will store the blue spirits as a sellable item for you. (if coach doesn't fire, logic will store it, and if logic fails too then volition does it)

he gets *so* excited. I love it

him calling it 'The Wonder' noooo

coach is so funny. i love when harry's choices are so biased haha

why is he so stupid?

this one always kills me. there is *so little* insight into what these guys are doing in there! but savvy is pushing other skills outta the way for this <333 he's brave to push past coach haha. what's he at the front of? is savvy actually small or just in comparison to coach...? hehe

we're out of screenshot room but can't forget this classic:

PHYSICAL INSTRUMENT - Yes, this man is definitely one of the homos, I've seen them homos with my own eyes.

other fun facts! there are too many good coach quotes :(((

- he's the only one to call Inland Empire dreamer! - electrochemistry calls coach a sinewy idiot! - calls you Harry just once, but son 26 times, boy 3 times, champ 3 times, officer once... - physical instrument is confirmed compromised... - he never says 'Kim', only lieutenant - my spreadsheet has him at a moderate swear score of 6/10 because I didn't factor in how many time he says goddamn... oops

ok that's it for physical instrument!! tomorrow... it will be extremely hard to pick only 30 quotes :(((

[mystar-girl57]

Hey gurlll, me again 😂 can I ask for a drabble of lo'ak being an absolute mama's boy, like going to the reader crying cuz he knows she'll save him from Jake's scolding and probably give Jake a piece of her mind on 'not to scold my baby boy' and lo'ak being all smug , smirking at neteyam at how he can get away with everything with just a "mama please 🥺" , i just can't seem to get this out of my head 😂😂😂 i live for clingy lo'ak + some lo'ak and reader bonding and Jake being sulky at how lo'ak teases HIM now 😂😂😂

Oh my ewya this boy.

Okay so before you and Jake even get near to making up, before you leave the camp Lo’ak always thought himself to be closer with you than his dad but he was never really open about it. He just knew that he was happy when you could come to his defense when his dad would yell at him in High Camp

Now fast forward to Awa’altu after the battle against Quaritch and you and Jake are starting to heal Lo’ak defiantly becomes more attached to you (and for this Yes, Neteyam is alive.)

Jake would get onto Lo’ak for something like not doing the chores and you would just happen to be coming around the corner. Cue the fake tears.

Lo’ak’s body collided with yours making you stumble backwards. He hugged you tightly starting to “cry”. Instantly you felt concerned and retuned the hug rubbing his back. “Baby, easy, easy.” You tried to soothe, gently pulling away to cup your son’s face. “What’s the matter?” Your voice was so gentle and kind, unaware of what was going on. “Da- Dad, he,” Lo’ak started to get choked up again and your head turned to Jake quickly, a harsh look on your face.

“We talked about this.” You mouthed. Jake opened his mouth in protest but he was unable to find the words, were you seriously buying his son’s ploy?!

And this was neither the first or last time that Lo’ak would come to you crying about something that Jake did making your husband more offended.

“Jake I have had about enough of your behavior! You are constantly berating Lo’ak even Tuk and Kiri are coming to me about it.”

“ExCuSe Me WhAt?!”

Thats right. His own daughters, his little sweethearts have gotten in on it too. They would come to you at random times to tell you that Lo’ak was crying or that Jake was starting stuff and soon the village could you see you grabbing your husband by the ear and dragging him away, it did not matter if he was talking to Tonowari or not.

After a while Jake does start to get back at the kids, esspecially when Lo’ak sends Jake smug looks as he cuddles with his mama when it’s Jake’s “turn” to. Jake just ends up one night getting in bed and laying on top of you nearly crushing you.

“Ma’Jake I cannot breathe!” You gasped from under him as all his weight was now laying on you. Jake simply hummed in response and without you being able to see he smirked at Lo’ak who was pouting. Was it childish? Yes? Did Jake care? No. You were you probably going to pull his ear and call him a skxawng? Probably.

Now the one sibling who did not aid in Lo’ak’s schemes was big brother Neteyam. After the ship incident and him getting shot he (plus the words of his parents) helped him decide to not follow Lo’ak as much anymore. Neteyam though was now a full man on the clan and he would need Lo’ak to help him out sometimes. Caring for the Skimwings or going on hunts, which Lo’ak did want to do in general but because he was being asked to rather than him deciding, he didn’t want to help.

“Mother please tell Lo’ak that it is his turn to feed the Ilus!” Neteyam huffed watching you feed Lepay. Lo’ak let out a groan and turned to you, “Mama please.” You let out a deep sigh, giving your Ilu another fish and turning to Lo’ak and Neteyam. “Look Neteyam just give your bother a hand. Ewya knows the last thing we need is for them to get out.”

While you had no favorites (Tuk) you did try to help and make compromises where it was needed. You were well aware of what Lo’ak was doing to get your attention away from Jake and you would gladly play along. You honestly enjoyed seeing your husband all sulky and annoyed because he knows he can’t fight a child but you do draw the line at it going against the siblings.

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

[spotsupstuff]

Pebbles hating on Sun? I'm here for it. I love your version of Suns so much because it just encapsulates all their flaws that people often ignore. Is this my Pebbles bias speaking? Yes absolutely. Nobody LETS Pebbles be angry towards Suns when he has every right to. They just let the anger be outweighed or completely ignored in the favor of Pebbles own screwups.

I want to see Pebbles come into his own, decide he has worth as a living person, and there is value in living. Then, as someone who values his OWN worth, realize that Suns was toxic. That their friendship and mentorship was toxic. Let him be angry and let him cut that out of his life so he can focus on righting his own wrongs (which Pebbles does canonically anyways).

Realistically, Sun's and Pebble's friendship would never be the same. Even if Pebbles forgave Suns, I can't see their relationship being anything but strained. Moon and Pebble's situation cannot be compared to this since Moon is A. extremely forgiving/patient and B. her collapse was an accident on Pebble's part. She was angry yes but chose to rekindle her relationship with Pebbles in the end.

Five Pebbles is a completely different person from Moon and has a right to handle his mentorship with Suns in HIS way. So yeah, I cannot see off the string Pebbles doing anything but trying to heal from what Suns did to him (while also dealing with his own guilt).

here's a treat cuz oh i Know you are here for this, every time my version of these two are mentioned you come runnin jgksdlmcklsdm

[mak-be-ghouled]

i'm sorry but tou said that you want more about delta and phantom and i just thought about delta asking about phantom's scars and thinking that he added more. and i might be writing hurt/comfort about them because i think we all deserve fluff-

JESTER YOU CAN’T DO THIS TO ME IK WHATEVER YOU'RE COOKING UP IS GOING TO BE INCREDIBLE

(that being said don't feel pressured to write anything just bc I said more, pls only write what and when you want to)

Your quint characterization is maybe my favorite thing I’ve ever read and has ABSOLUTELY inspired my own writing and I cannot thank you enough for that. Hopefully it's ok that I ran with your lighting/scar ideas for this little ramble about Phantom/Delta bc I agree we all deserve some fluff.

I got a bit carried away here's 1.6k words of Phantom/Delta hurt/comfort under the cut

Not sure how I feel about the ending but were just gonna ignore that

Phantom who is so drawn to Delta despite being so terrified of the magic they're said to harness, it's no secret Phantom is a runt, he has the scars to prove it. Something not as obvious is that most of the scars he wears don't have heroic stories defending himself from entire ghoul packs or even from scavenging around alone hoping to get lucky enough for food and a safe place to sleep for the night. 

No, Phantom wasn't alone in the pits, not always in the physical sense at least. A particularly powerful quintessence ghoul had it out for Phantom fairly early on, a lighting quint at that. No one, not even Phantom really knows what happened during these run ins. 

Nothing to prove they even happened beyond scorched skin. wounds that never fully healed, not how they should have at least. Etching lighting bolts into delicate skin. Branding him. 

When Phantom was summoned topside he was indescribably drawn in by a particular type of magic. A type of magic that felt dreamlike in a way, familiar and yet so distant. 

The closer he got to the pack though, the more he longed to identify this elusive magic. He thought maybe it was Swiss, buried somewhere deep inside him, he was a multi after all.

Eventually Phantom began hearing rumors about another quintessence ghoul, one he had never met before, one that had changed elements, one that was connected to water. 

When Phantom and Delta first meet it's electric in every sense of the word.

Delta has tried his hardest to keep himself away from Phantom, to protect him. Phantom had gone through enough and all Delta did anymore was hurt. Hurt himself, hurt others. He couldn't do that to Phantom too, not after hearing all that the ghoul had been through, not at the hands of another lighting quint.

Phantom was entranced by Delta though, it was his magic he had been drawn to. Part of him was terrified of Delta, put off by this distantly familiar magic, but the other was so desperate for it, needed it like his lungs needed air.

For the first time since the transition, Delta can stand to be physically close to another ghoul. Not once does Phantom ever jump back in fear or hesitation or pain from his unruly element. 

For the first time in as long as he can remember, Delta is... relaxed. His mind slows its never-ending racing. The elements warring inside of him fall calm and peaceful in a way so foreign to him it almost makes him sick. 

Despite his better judgment, Delta can't resist Phantom, there's just something so special about the little ghoul that he can't deny. He's so scared of hurting him, but he's even more scared of losing him and he barely even knows Phantom yet.

Phantom and Delta begin spending more and more time together, so deeply lost in the galaxy that is the other. Stormy nights are especially special for them though, something about their connection to the stars and lighting, it's just...them in a way.

Tonight is one of those nights. It's been overcast all afternoon and just started storming as the sun went down. Through patches of darkness that can only be assumed to be storm clouds, the stars and moon just barely peak through. Almost as if they're revealing themselves just for them.

Delta had set up one of the greenhouses as a makeshift observatory, full of soft blankets and the pair's favorite snacks, made complete with the old vinyl record player Mountain insisted on having in the greenhouse for his plants.

Delta wonders if they would approve of his music selection. But truly it doesn't matter, all that matters is that he knows Phantom loves it.

Finally, Delta hears the creaking of the rusted door hinges and looks up to see Phantom’s radiant smile, his eyes shine brighter than the stars in the sky and Delta has never felt more at ease than he does in this very moment. 

"Hi lighting bug" 

Phantom says as he takes in his surroundings, crawling into the nest Delta has put together for them. Delta chuffs, pulling Phantom close to him. 

The pair lay in a comfortable silence for a while, just taking in everything. Watching as lightning lights up the night sky. Pointing out stars and constellations as they appear and disappear behind the clouds. 

Experiencing love they'd never had, loved they didn't think they deserved.

At some point Delta's eyes drift from the sky, settling instead on his own universe, the ghoul laying just beside him. Delta wasn't sure he'd ever be able to love like this, and yet, here he is.

Phantom glances over to Delta, only to be face to face with the most loving look Phantom has ever seen, at least the most loving face he's been the receiver of. Phantom is overcome with emotion, can’t believe he's experiencing this type of connection with another ghoul, he's not sure he deserves it but when he's quite literally face to face with it, he isn't so sure anymore, and his eyes well with tears.

"Can-Can I kiss you, Nova?

Delta asks acting fully on impulse, not thinking, just doing. He hasn't kissed anyone since before he changed elements, hell he's hardly touched anyone since the transition, but before he can overthink anymore the corners of Phantom's month pull up into a small smile and he gives a shy nod.

Before he knows it Delta's hand is cupping Phantom's cheek and their lips are connecting in the softest, most genuine kiss. 

Delta feels like he's floating, like nothing will ever matter again as long as he has Phantom. 

Just as Phantom goes to pull away though, just for a breath, smiling against Delta’s lips the whole time, to wipe the tears that had fallen, Delta is ripped back down to reality. 

All of a sudden Delta is hyper aware of the lightning bolt shaped scar slashing through Phantom’s face, the scar that he has been holding in his hand.

Delta rips his hand away from Phantom's face, looks into his eyes and sees tears.

Why was Phantom crying? Did he leave that scar? Is he the reason for the lightning bolt tearing through Phantom's face? Did he hurt Phantom? The one ghoul he thought was safe from his own pain?

Delta tries to get away, thrashes and growls and realizes he...can't? 

Somethings holding him down and he's back in the summoning room, he’s back being strapped down and used as an experiment, just to see if a ghoul really can change elements. If a ghoul can be tamed, be useful again.

Distantly Delta hears Phantom's voice calling to him, floating off somewhere into the void. Slowly the warring elements begin to calm again and Delta is looking at Phantom face to face again.

He hates himself. Hates himself for the scar he left. The damage he did to such a beautiful innocent creature.

Deta hurts everyone he touches, he knows this, has seen it happen. Why did he think Phantom would be any different?

"Delta. Love. Look at me. What's going on?" 

Phantom's trying to act calm, to bring Delta back to reality, but he's scared too, he's not sure what happened, if he did something wrong.

"I- Im- so- sorry." 

Delta heaves out between panting breaths, and Phantom's never been more confused.

"Delta, what?"

"You- your face- I"

Phantom grazes his hands over the scarred side of his face, over the lighting bolt, Delta flinches back again- and 

oh

Phantom realizes he's never really thought about that, never really considered the connection between Delta's magic and his scars, never considered why he had been drawn so strongly to Delta, to Delta's magic. 

"I- I need to go, I don't want to - I can't hurt you anymore"

Delta sobs out, stumbling and trying to stand.

"Delta, please."

Phantom calls out and he sounds so desperate.

Delta was supposed to be a healing ghoul, he can't just leave Phantom hurting now. 

Delta tries to call on his magic but he just... can't. It's like he's run dry. 

He heaves into the ground and his mind starts clearing once again, he becomes distantly aware of a hand rubbing up and down his back, he tries to flinch away but he doesn't have any more fight left in him.

Phantom just keeps whispering to Delta, soft and loving words, words he knows Delta doesn't think he deserves, but Phantom couldn't think of a more deserving ghoul, keeps a steady hand on his back hoping to help ground Delta, he'd use a bit of his magic too if he didn't think it would make everything worse, so instead he settles on only affecting the physical realm. 

Finally Delta comes back down to earth, Phantom is able to explain as much as he remembers from the pits to Delta, how he thinks he got those scars. How it wouldn't be possible for Delta to have hurt him like that because in the pits he was a water ghoul. 

Delta tries to accept Phantom's words, he does, but can you really blame him for being so scared? It's not like hurting someone he loves, even if on accident, was something he hadn't done before.