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#Actually let's give everyone therapy
azeriairis · 10 months
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Alright I'm just going to go ahead and share a Theory I have
This involves the dynamic between McKay and Zelenka, more specifically why McKay is such an asshole when it comes to Zelenka. I'll summarize it because I don't think y'all want a long essay (though I will write one if y'all want), the main Argument essentially goes like so, McKay has a Ego problem, and part of that is being unable to accept that he is not the best person working in whatever field he is in, meanwhile Zelenka in comparison to McKay has a lot more general leadership skills (such as communication, trusting in the skills of his team, and evaluating decisions) which would make him better suited as the head of the Atlantis Science Department, because it's a role that requires good Leadership skills, and he's also a great scientist in his own right. This obviously would cause a issue for McKay's Ego, so in order to resolve that threat to his Ego he lashes out and the only thing his ego can latch onto as a Justification for why he is better suited for the role is, that his skills as a scientist maybe be slightly better than Zelenka's so that's the main thing he target, attempting to convince himself that Zelenka is incompetent enough at science to justify that he got the position over him, despite the fact that that's is blatantly not the case, and he inadvertently externalizes it.
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ganja-hq · 21 days
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Wait a minute. I just thought back to my child psych ward days and good golly gosh did they. commit a lot of hmmm,, medical malpractice,, that might've had some effect on my psyche
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hate it when the annoying self-care advice actually works
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razzle-zazzle · 1 year
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I've seen some people give their take on what they'd like in a 3rd psychonauts game. What about you?
Junior Agents True Psychic Tales, is one way to put it. Just. Give me these characters going on further adventures in this world. Give me the Aquatos healing from their trauma give me Junior Agents learning to work together like a pack of raptors give me Raz continuing to collect parental figures.
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endusviolence · 2 months
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Rowling isn't denying holocaust. She just pointed out that burning of transgender health books is a lie as that form of cosmetic surgery didn't exist. But of course you knew that already, didn't you?
I was thinking I'd probably see one of you! You're wrong :) Let's review the history a bit, shall we?
In this case, what we're talking about is the Institut für Sexualwissenschaft, or in English, The Institute of Sexology. This Institute was founded and headed by a gay Jewish sexologist named Magnus Hirschfeld. It was founded in July of 1919 as the first sexology research clinic in the world, and was run as a private, non-profit clinic. Hirschfeld and the researchers who worked there would give out consultations, medical advice, and even treatments for free to their poorer clientele, as well as give thousands of lectures and build a unique library full of books on gender, sexuality, and eroticism. Of course, being a gay man, Hirschfeld focused a lot on the gay community and proving that homosexuality was natural and could not be "cured".
Hirschfeld was unique in his time because he believed that nobody's gender was either one or the other. Rather, he contended that everyone is a mixture of both male and female, with every individual having their own unique mix of traits.
This leads into the Institute's work with transgender patients. Hirschfeld was actually the one to coin the term "transsexual" in 1923, though this word didn't become popular phrasing until 30 years later when Harry Benjamin began expanding his research (I'll just be shortening it to trans for this brief overview.) For the Institute, their revolutionary work with gay men eventually began to attract other members of the LGBTA+, including of course trans people.
Contrary to what Anon says, sex reassignment surgery was first tested in 1912. It'd already being used on humans throughout Europe during the 1920's by the time a doctor at the Institute named Ludwig Levy-Lenz began performing it on patients in 1931. Hirschfeld was at first opposed, but he came around quickly because it lowered the rate of suicide among their trans patients. Not only was reassignment performed at the Institute, but both facial feminization and facial masculization surgery were also done.
The Institute employed some of these patients, gave them therapy to help with other issues, even gave some of the mentioned surgeries for free to this who could not afford it! They spoke out on their behalf to the public, even getting Berlin police to help them create "transvestite passes" to allow people to dress however they wanted without the threat of being arrested. They worked together to fight the law, including trying to strike down Paragraph 175, which made it illegal to be homosexual. The picture below is from their holiday party, Magnus Hirschfeld being the gentleman on the right with the fabulous mustache. Many of the other people in this photo are transgender.
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[Image ID: A black and white photo of a group of people. Some are smiling at the camera, others have serious expressions. Either way, they all seem to be happy. On the right side, an older gentleman in glasses- Magnus Hirschfeld- is sitting. He has short hair and a bushy mustache. He is resting one hand on the shoulder of the person in front of him. His other hand is being held by a person to his left. Another person to his right is holding his shoulder.]
There was always push back against the Institute, especially from conservatives who saw all of this as a bad thing. But conservatism can't stop progress without destroying it. They weren't willing to go that far for a good while. It all ended in March of 1933, when a new Chancellor was elected. The Nazis did not like homosexuals for several reasons. Chief among them, we break the boundaries of "normal" society. Shortly after the election, on May 6th, the book burnings began. The Jewish, gay, and obviously liberal Magnus Hirschfeld and his library of boundary-breaking literature was one of the very first targets. Thankfully, Hirschfeld was spared by virtue of being in Paris at the time (he would die in 1935, before the Nazis were able to invade France). His library wasn't so lucky.
This famous picture of the book burnings was taken after the Institute of Sexology had been raided. That's their books. Literature on so much about sexuality, eroticism, and gender, yes including their new work on trans people. This is the trans community's Alexandria. We're incredibly lucky that enough of it survived for Harry Benjamin and everyone who came after him was able to build on the Institute's work.
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[Image ID: A black and white photo of the May Nazi book burning of the Institute of Sexology's library. A soldier, back facing the camera, is throwing a stack of books into the fire. In the background of the right side, a crowd is watching.]
As the Holocaust went on, the homosexuals of Germany became a targeted group. This did include transgender people, no matter what you say. To deny this reality is Holocaust denial. JK Rowling and everyone else who tries to pretend like this isn't reality is participating in that evil. You're agreeing with the Nazis.
But of course, you knew that already, didn't you?
Edit: Added image IDs. I apologize to those using screen readers for forgetting them. Please reblog this version instead.
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I mean I'm not goin back to him I'm not(!!!) but at this point I got no idea why
Literally just screaming into the fucking void
He already broke me to the point where all the shit he's said are my only core beliefs n even if I try to shut down the voice in my head repeatin it all I still believe every damn word
So no matter how long I cut him off for it's always there just the same. But no one else can always be there to make it go away. W/ him I at least go from a total waste of oxygen to the one thing I'll ever be any good for. It's an upgrade I can almost live with.
So what's the point? What do I or anyone gain from me stayin away?
I've been tryin so fucking hard n it's just not getting any easier. I don't know where to put all this fucking self loathing, I can't keep pouring it onto other people. I always need to keep so damn much inside n some of it still spills out n that's already bordering on too much. I don't wanna be a burden. I know everyone is, to some extent, but not like this. Not all the time. Plus they have something to give in return, I only have things no one else wants, just Val's happy to take em if offered.
I still feel the pull all the fucking time. It's like the chain he used to have around my neck but I know he's not doin the pulling, he doesn't care if he has me or not anymore. It's all me now. I'm the one who keeps wanting to go back. The rational part of me is screaming no cause I know he'll just hurt me n find new ways to cut even deeper but. What's left that he hasn't already done?
Maybe this time he'll make the feelings n the noise go away. Maybe this time he'll make it all quiet.
#i know i can't expect anyone else to save me that's something i'm supposed to do myself but#what if i can't? i don't know how to#best i've managed is a somewhat stable daily life but that relies on practically zero triggers n i don't actually get anything done ever#there's no progress. none. it's just me drowning out the noise w/ distractions n booze#everyone i see struggling w/ this shit that's made actual progress has made it w/ the type of healing experiences i can't seem to find#n cause it's all just pseudomemories n shit we can't really even unpack it in therapy cause it doesn't rly get to the real causes#it's always just 'have you had experiences in real life where someone made you feel like this?'#i don't know!! we don't have our actual trauma memories!!!#i just. i wish i didn't need so goddamn much more than what's reasonable to ask of anyone.#i wish i wasn't wired so completely fucking wrong i can't have those needs met#i wish i wasn't so fucking worthless. only ever barely keepin my head above water.#i tried to list any skills/positive traits/things i like about myself n the only thing i could come up w/ is i give great head#n i guess the way i'll let you act out any fucked up fantasy on me if you don't mind that i cry or dissociate#but i don't have anythin else to give. my body's all i have to offer n it's not even a very good one anymore#i still wish someone would use it. make me feel like i still have a use. give me some way to make up for even fucking existing#i guess i was doin some good back when i still let val take all his aggressions out on me so he had an outlet aside from doll#i'd be ok w/ him just usin me but he's always so fucking cruel about it.#i really really really wanna cut but he'd be so fucking angry i'm scared of what he'd do#i just. can't someone just fucking use me. do whatever you want to my body n tell me i'm not a waste of space cause i make you feel good#tell me i'm a good boy#spdrvent
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strawbebyjam · 7 months
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truly cannot tell if lc/nc has been poison or antidote for me LOL
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misfortunegirl · 8 months
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anyone who is inlove with me 👉👈
#Im sorry im having a bad episode rn and am most likely going to be embarrassed but oh well. i need validation.#also im like mostly aware nobody gives a rats ass about me on here but . still.#theres like a tiny part of me that wishes theres a person on here that actually cares about me very deeply thoufh they dont show it#but also i get anxious when i remember that literally anyone can access my crazy ramblings.😀#/⁠╲⁠/⁠\⁠╭⁠(⁠•⁠‿⁠•⁠)⁠╮⁠/⁠\⁠╱⁠\#finak thoughts for now HOPEFULLY: if youre like me . listen to your intuition. its never been wrong for me. yes i feel crazy and paranoid#but guess what i am also? always right. so. yeah. if something feels off its because it is. ☝️ stop beinf a dumb bitch like me and ignoring#your intuition. dont be like me please. ive been aware about so many things way before they happened but always disregarded my suspicions#bitch my suspicions have never been wrong. those whove made me out a crazy paranoid bitch. EAT SHIT.#anywho anywho. if something feels off and wrong. its cause it is off and wrong. people cant be trusted ever. most suck . truthfully.#see this is why therapy doesnt work for me. unless ive written thoughts like these down these revelations come and go on ther own and in th#meantime im as dumb as a rock!!!! because i literally forget everything that ever happens to me#anyways. the verdict is. i need someone who is obsessed with me so that i can be obsessed with them without being made out to be crazy😌#i cant love normally because at the end of the day nothing about me is normal.#im unsatisfied because normal life doesn't fit me.#normal life is made for normal and sane people. not for weird bitches like me who share their delusional ramblings on Toomblr dot com.#thats actually a sort of. calming realization. im constantly trying to fit into the mold of a normal person#when clearly im not. ive neverbeen. ive turned out this way because everyone ostracized me for not being like them#well. suddenly i feel better. dont get me wrong i still hope theres at leasr one person on here whois madly inlove with me🥶#but yeag. im jughead coded at the end of the day. Riverdale writers found outt about me and were like lets makes jughead based on her is#no “is” .sorry#based off on actually. i know english well i swear
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actual-changeling · 9 months
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So, I was rewatching the kiss scene frame-by-frame, as one does, and I realized something. First I thought, well, Alex, you probably saw that wrong, let’s keep going. A minute later, however, I was confronted with the reality of no, not mistaken. 
Maybe I am late to the party and everyone has already seen it and knows about it, but in case there are people that haven’t: Aziraphale not only puts his hand on Crowley’s back, he puts his left one on his waist BEFORE that.
Not just that, he slides it up and also uses it as leverage to pull Crowley closer. I could go through those few seconds one frame at a time, but that would take forever, so I will give you the highlights in chronological order.
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His hands flutter around at first and don’t settle anywhere, which is actually really useful since it shows us what the angle for that looks like.
Now, the next time his left hand moves up, look at the progression. It does not go down the same way as before. Instead, it moves inward and against Crowley’s waist. And it STAYS THERE right up until he moves both of his hands away.
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Look at the angle!!!! Look at how it moves INWARD and towards Crowley instead of straight down like before.
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Still moving towards Crowley with a slight downwards drift because he is aiming for his waist.
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Now it is too low for us to see but I think it is very obvious where his hand has settled. Maybe I am going insane after only thinking about this show for almost a month straight. Maybe not. Call me crazy but the angle here is DIFFERENT. The second one very much looks like he is holding onto Crowley.
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Aziraphale kisses back. Fully kisses back. Somehow, that wasn’t enough for Michael Sheen, no, he had to fully commit to it and *close his eyes* when he reciprocates, too. Look at this!!! The way his eyes flutter shut when Crowley first grabs him, then open, and then CLOSE AGAIN when he starts holding him in return. Kissing back with his eyes closed and his arms wrapped around him. The last picture is right before he moves his hand to his waist/the frame after the camera angle changes.
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Anyone else losing it right now? No? Just me? That’s fine, although I most definitely am not. Fine, that is. Michael Sheen I’m sending you my fucking therapy bills.
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whyamihereat4am · 23 days
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my favourite thing about chuuya nakahara is that he's just kind of. chill. about everything. he's like, my tragic backstory has no hold on me, i went to therapy and i'm all good now. i'm a bad guy cuz it pays good and my found family happens to be here. what do you mean that's not a good reason, you a cop or something?
someone will betray him and he'll go ok well that's pretty upsetting. they probably had a good reason though. i'll forgive them if they let me get a good punch in. if they're really just a hater they're giving me bad vibes and i don't wanna deal with 'em at all tbh.
things have been done to him that would warrant a lifelong crusade of revenge for anyone else, but for chuuya nakahara it's just, that was super not cool but i'll let it slide if you get therapy with me.
chuuya is down for any crime and thinks moral boundaries are for losers and stuff but he's the nicest guy in the port mafia when it comes to not mistreating his subordinates and probably helps old ladies cross the street. he shows up for a solid 10-20 minutes of screentime per season and makes all the fans fall in love with him while doing the bare minimum, and despite technically being a villain i don't think he's worked against the agency a single time (although to be fair this is often not on purpose). he also does the bare minimum every time he's asked to help in-universe and clearly isn't even trying, and he sweeps anyway because he is ridiculously overpowered and could probably kill literally everyone if he actually wanted to, and i just. no one is doing it like him. you go you unbothered king.
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keefechambers · 2 months
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I wanna be blunt about this ongoing James somerton suicide threat issue but I don't want to connect it to my IRL Twitter to comment on the dogshit takes I'm seeing there or the good and well meaning but maybe too kind takes I'm seeing here.
Obviously, I hope that this is a false alarm cry for help fake threat. Yes, it would reinforce that Somerton is a self-centered egomaniac who can't handle consequences but that's preferable to dead.
But I work in local news and let me tell you something. I've covered half a dozen family annihilating murder suicides and heard hundreds of men making suicide threats over police scanners and a huge swath of these don't happen because they're depressed or because people are mean to them on the Internet. They're punishment. A person with an enormous amount of entitlement towards people around them gets backed into a corner and they punish the people closest to them by killing themselves or threatening to kill themselves.
No one wants to talk about this feature of suicide because...you want to help people who are struggling and guide them away from this path and being blunt about the fact that sometimes people die of suicide as a consequence of their own shittiness towards the world does not really help actively suicidal people. But suicide rates are higher in men not just because they have higher rates of untreated mental illness (a societal issue we must address for the sake of all) but because some people, often men, use suicide (but more often the threat of suicide) as a tool of abuse and control.
I'm not saying somerton is like, an icky abuser bad guy, he's just a run of the mill grifter scumbag, but his actions in the past show a clear pattern of escalating behavior that aligns with this.
Somerton gets called out -> somerton alleges physical threats of violence against himself and his fans rally around him supportively -> Harry calls somerton out in a bigger way -> Somerton says he's hospitalized but there are inconsistencies with the story but no one wants to talk about that because you wanna be nice-ish about a guy who just tried to kill himself and now he's trying to be framed as tragic but it doesn't really stick -> somerton apologizes again but his apology is rightly called out for lies and manipulative framing as well as his continuing attempts to profit off the community he betrayed -> James posts a suicide note publicly putting the onus of his own suicide on the loss of his friend Nick who he repeatedly threw under the bus and now everyone is rallying to say nice-ish shit and wring their hands in concern over poor james -> indefinitely repeat this vicious cycle forever until he actually does die or finally gives up and gets real, intensive therapy and a day job.
Thats not to say anyone's concern is misplaced, it's 100% better for him to be a living scumbag than a dead one. He deserves the chance to grow and learn and have a life outside of youtube.
But you don't have to portray this as the action of a sad depressed man who got bullied off the Internet. It's manipulation, whether he intended to go through with it or not and whether someone intervened or not. Not denying that internet bullying is a thing, I'm sure there were some people who were shitty directly to James but he made the choice to not unplug from this and to try and keep being a public figure rather than taking care of himself. He could have deleted Twitter, blocked anyone who was an asshole, gone to therapy and tried to move on with his life but if he'd deleted his channel he'd have lost monetization... Can't have that, right? So he posts some apology videos so his channel stays active and then complains about how ruinous this is while never trying to take real accountability.
But the reality is that people would have forgotten about him so quickly and maybe his job prospects would've been impacted but...that's on him, and that's for him to figure out but it's not actually life ruining. He chose to continue to engage knowing he'd get backlash and hate and he'd feel worse and worse and things would never get better without the time and space for people to forget.
He made the choice to make a public spectacle of his own alleged suicide. That is the action of someone who wants to put the weight of their suicide on someone else's shoulders and is morally wrong. He can be held to account for that, alive or dead.
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smoft-demons · 1 month
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MC needs some extra love
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You’re having an off day. Your demons have asked to make sure nothing’s actually wrong, just to be safe, but they’ve seen you like this a few times before. They understand. You’re just feeling down for no particular reason. Just sad and low energy. Extra tired.
Nothing happened, no one hurt you, nothing’s wrong… you just woke up in a low mood. Because it simply be like that sometimes. You just… need some extra affection today. No reason. It’s okay, they’re not judging. They’ll do what they can to cheer you up a little—they love you, you know. They want to see you smile at least once today.
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Lucifer:
When Lucifer notices your mood, he softens towards you a lot. He asks if anything is wrong first of course—they all do—but once he learns that there’s nothing he needs to correct and no one he needs to punish on your behalf, he just softens. He treats you more gently than usual.
He expects you’ll get fed up entertaining all his brothers, with their endless chaotic energy. So he invites you to hide out with him in his office. You are invited to just sit with him and read, or put on some music, or play a game on your DDD, or just rest… or whatever it is that will help.
He’ll even let you curl up in his lap and cuddle with him if that’s what you want. That cheers him up too.
He quietly redistributes the most taxing of your chores for today amongst the seven of them, to give you time to recharge.
You’ll find Levi and Beel doing the dishes for you when it’s your turn, or if you’re supposed to make dinner you’ll find that Mammon and Asmo have already ordered everyone takeout, and they’re already in the middle of setting it all out on the table. You won’t have to do a thing! If you were supposed to clean up a common space in the house, it’ll already be done by some of your assorted pact partners. You might even find sticky notes placed amongst your homework in Lucifer’s, Satan’s, and Belphie’s handwriting, suggesting edits and books titles to check for better information, and pointing out any parts in your work that are particularly well done.
When you check your DDD later, you see that Lucifer had instructed his brothers to take on what they can from you to make your life easier today. He was not planning on letting you know that, clearly—because he sent that in the brothers group chat. You only know because Karasu’s spy feature showed you.
His support is shown in all these soft, quiet details. Peaceful moments. Simple, but unmistakable reminders of how loved you are. It’s okay if you don’t smile today, even though he would like you too. He will verbally remind you that loves you anyway.
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Mammon:
Mammon’s first instinct, of course, is retail therapy. He offers to take you shopping. He’ll even pay for your stuff! He doesn’t mind if it makes you happy!
You appreciate that very much—and maybe you’d be happy to take him up on that if you were sad for a reason, but… you just have no spare energy. Just thinking about going out exhausts you more. You’d have to deal with looking at things! And forming opinions, and deciding on stuff to buy! There’s crowds and cashiers and bright lights and just… stuff outside! You can’t, you just can’t. You have no energy and you can’t.
The first time Mammon sees you like this, he’s confused. You don’t wanna go out? You don’t want any new stuff?? He sure hasn’t felt like that before!
He puts effort into figuring out what will actually help cheer you up instead. He’s considerate that way.
He tries taking you for a long drive. He tries taking tasks off your to-do list. He tries trailing after you all day to keep you company, holding your hand, chattering all day so you can’t hear your thoughts, staying quiet so you don’t get overstimulated. He cycles through every possible approach over the months, on every random day you happen to wake up like this.
It’s all greatly appreciated—and hey, some of his ideas work better than the rest! You feel loved and cared for regardless. It’s impossible to miss how much he adores you.
Eventually though, he strikes gold!
That particular day, he had been telling you a stupid joke every time he ran into you, in an attempt to make you smile. He gets a weak grin for his troubles just about halfway through the day. He beams at you triumphantly at that, impulsively scooping you up for a hug and repeatedly kissing the top of your head, and—aha! THERE’S the smile he was looking for!
From that point on, he knows what to do!
The next time you wake up in this mood, he takes the first opportunity to give you a playfully over the top show of affection. Over the course of the day, he keeps doing it!
He runs into you in the hallway between classes, he (gently) aggressively ruffles your hair as he passes you. He finds you aimlessly walking through the house, you immediately get snatched into his arms for a nice long squeeze. You sit with him as he’s scrolling through devilgram, he sets it aside for a moment to squish your cheeks between his hands and cover your forehead and nose with loud, playful kisses. You go up to him and request attention? You get kiss attacked, and he won’t let up until you crack a smile!
Your brain hurts, he says, echoing your very first explanation. It’s okay though, he says. He’ll kiss it better, he says.
He is MORE than happy to completely discard the tsundere façade to lean into this… over-the-top affectionate silliness, as long as it continues to make you laugh and smile like that.
He won’t admit it, but… this is more honest. This is much closer to who he is at heart than his usual behaviour is. Try as he might, he can’t hide how much he cares to save his life.
The realest aspect of Mammon is not the dumbass, not the money-grubber, not the uncaring cool guy that he pretends to be… no, it’s the goofy dork who loves you SO much that he’d go to any amount of effort to cheer you up.
He’s damn good at it too! HE was put in charge of your well-being for a reason! He’s the best big brother/guardian/friend/pact partner ever, and you’re his to take care of. He’s not letting HIS human go without smiling once for a whole day! You’re the sole member of his family he can openly dote on, and dammit, he will!
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Levi:
Levi’s go-to is, of course, distracting you with media. He tries games first, but if you’re too low-energy for that, he gets it. He tries anime, movies, shows, videos, manga, whatever you seem to respond best to.
You’ll notice a theme of letting others help, confiding in friends, opening up to people. There are repeated instances of characters asking for support from the rest of the cast and then being helped and taken care of. Lots of power of friendship stories, lots of hurt/comfort and “it’s rotten work” “not to me, not if it’s you” and team-as-family.
Maybe, just maaaybe, he’s trying to tell you something!
He relaxes when you explain that you just woke up like this, sometimes this just happens and it’s no one’s fault, there’s no problem, he doesn’t have to worry about you. He gets that! Sometimes he wakes up like that too. It does happen!
But… you’re his player two! He wants to worry about you!
So he takes care of you the way he wishes someone would take care of him when he gets like that. Gives you the extra love he knows first-hand that you need right now. He lets you choose the entertainment, he holds your hand, and mirrors what you do to self-soothe.
If you wanna lie on the floor and stare at his jellyfish decorations, he’s right next to you. If you wanna tell Henry how you’re feeling, he’s right there with you doing the same so you don’t have to feel self-conscious. If you’re stimming, he will too. That one makes him happy as well! If you wanna burrow into a pile of blankets and plushies like a hognose snake, he totally gets it and will also do that. He does that anyway sometimes, just because it’s comfy.
There’s not a hint of judgement from Levi. Ever. He gets it.
When you guys HAVE to leave his room, like for meals and such, he lends you his headphones. So you don’t get overstimulated from all the noise his brothers make. He never goes far from you, either. He always stays close enough that you can reach for him if you want to.
After dinner, when you’re tired and done with trying to act normal (not that even one of your demons is fooled), Levi brings you back to his room. He asks if you have any requests, anything you want to do, anything he can do to help you. If you know what you need, he’ll just do it. If you don’t, he’ll offer comfort in some form that makes sense to him. He understands that all you really need is some extra love when you’re like this, so he’s not at a loss. He gets it, he feels the same way sometimes, he can do that!
You end up curled up in his lap, hiding your face in his shoulder as he watches an anime you’ve both seen before at a low volume. Familiar and comforting. He’s happy to just sit and chill with you until you feel like you’ve recharged enough. He knows you’d do the same for him.
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Satan:
Satan’s instinct, once he learns what’s going on, is to bring you to the quiet spot outside where the stray cats he has befriended gather and then plonk the chillest one in your lap.
Cats are perfect fluffy little warm purring bundles of free therapy, after all. How could you not be recharged by this?
He’s not wrong, the cat definitely helps. It is in fact a perfect creature.
But… well, you don’t bother to spend the energy on saying so, but being outside isn’t really helping. You cringe at every loud noise. The wind ruffling your clothes every so often is annoying you. You’re sitting on concrete and it’s making you cold. The streetlights feel particularly aggressive to your eyes today. Very stabby. There are smells outside! No one wants that!
You love the cats, but Satan is giving them all his attention and you’re getting just a little bit jealous. You as well are giving the cat in your lap all your attention, and—as stupid as you feel about it—you’re getting a little bit jealous about that too. You want attention too! All the cat has to do is be cute and soft and it can have all the petting and cuddling it wants! As it deserves, yes, but… don’t you as well, though..?
You try to push that feeling away and just pet the cat. The cat did nothing wrong, you still love it, you’re supposed to be feeling MORE recharged from this! Not… whatever it is you do feel. At the end of the day you still enjoy petting the cat and you don’t want it to leave. That’s still true and that’s what matters, you tell yourself.
Eventually the cat decides it’s had enough petting for now, and gets up. Satan checks on you, fully expecting you to be thoroughly cheered up! Instead he sees you staring forlornly at your hands, mostly zoned out. Confused, he asks if you’re okay.
You nod once, giving him a hollow smile.
Now he’s concerned. He takes a minute to finish petting the cats surrounding him—noting the hint of jealousy in your eyes as you observe him—then comes to sit on the concrete stair next to you.
He gently points out that he knows you well enough to detect a lie. Especially an unconvincing lie like that. You give a noncommittal hum in reply. That’s all you have the energy for.
He wraps an arm around your shoulders, letting you slump against his side. Your head leans against his shoulder. His other arm comes up to stroke your head for a moment, then drops down again to take your hand.
In a small, tired voice, you thank him. He gives your hand a gentle squeeze in reply.
Eventually he adjusts you so he can hold you more comfortably. Every so often he kisses the top of your head, or rubs your shoulder, or squeezes your hand, or says something quietly to you. Pointing out a interesting leaf shape, telling you something inconsequential about his day, prompting you to look when one of the cats does something cute, reminding you that he loves you and it’s okay to feel like this. That he enjoys your company no matter what mood you’re in.
This helps a lot more. Eventually you have enough energy to reply to him in full sentences! He’s visibly relieved at that. Still, he continues to hold you.
It’s after this point that a different cat comes up to you. It sniffs your shoelace then rubs itself against your leg. It flops over your shoe, stretching adorably with its little paws reaching up. It looks up at you all wide-eyed and cute, and finally you give a short puff of a laugh. Satan feels it more than hears it, but still!! He feels successful!
You pet this cat as it stands up and sniffs at your free hand. You look at it with a little smile. There’s a bit more soul in this smile, to Satan’s relief.
Later, as the two of you are leaving, he slips the cat a treat and whispers a thank you to it. Then he takes your hand again and leads you back home.
(He makes a mental note to himself for next time: pet the sad human first!! Then go see the cats!)
_______
Asmo:
Asmo notices that you’re having one of those days today, and he rushes to spoil you. Like Mammon, his first instinct is to take you shopping—but specifically for clothes and makeup and skincare products. Stuff that would cheer him up.
But you’re tired, and he understands that. It’s okay, he still knows what to do!
Asmo brings you into his room. You curl up in a sad, tired lump on his bed. He lets you chill there while he gathers up the stuff he wants.
He returns to you with his arms full of stuff! Nail polish, face masks, a hairbrush, moisturizer and hair oil, etc etc. Stuff for taking care of you.
He makes a point of only doing stuff that doesn’t sting at all. No plucking eyebrows or messing with your cuticles or anything like that. Just the stuff that feels nice.
Asmo quietly chatters about people he knows and stuff he’s used and whatever the latest gossip he’s heard is. Not even really to inform you this time, because he knows you’re probably not gonna remember much when you’re like this, but more to provide you with a constant, grounding backdrop of his familiar voice.
He speaks softly to you as he wipes your face with cleanser and then proceeds with his skincare process. He gently brushes your hair, spending twice as long as necessary just because it feels nice. He insists you don’t bother to move as he sits next to you and paints your nails.
At some point he runs out of stuff to do, so he ends up just brushing over your face with a clean makeup brush. No product on it at all, he’s just doing it to make you relax, because it’s soft and it feels nice. It’s meditative, honestly. For both of you.
He spends a good long while doing that.
He finishes up and lies down next to you. He pulls you into a cuddle. You offer to return the favour for him. Do his skincare and hair and nails and stuff for him, spoil him back—because he deserves the best.
For the first time ever, he declines. He shushes you and holds you tighter. This is the only situation in which he would ever refuse that!
He says you’re more than welcome to return the favour tomorrow if you like, but for now he just wants you to rest. He did all that for you to get you in this relaxed state you’re in right now, don’t get up and un-relax yourself so fast! Keep your brain turned off! It’s good for you sometimes!
… yes, Asmo is surprised by his own selflessness too—more surprised than you are by now, knowing him. He’s always been selfless for your sake since you first became his friend. It still surprises him though.
_______
Beel:
Beel is your best guy for validation. For quiet, thoughtful, unwavering support. He’s a lot more insightful than he’s often given credit for. He’s one of the best people in this family in terms of emotional intelligence, no question about it.
He knows just what to do. He observes you as the day goes on, taking the first opportunity to pull you aside and check on you without any others around. Just to make absolutely sure there’s nothing else going on.
His voice is soft, his hands are gentle, and he puts effort into understanding you. You’re family, he loves you so much! So of course he would.
He’ll share his food with you of course—both because he wants you to know that he loves you that much, and because he’s trying to remove a task from your to-do list. You don’t have to think about getting food and preparing it and any of that if he just. Does it for you. You can spend your very limited energy elsewhere.
He’ll take you with him on his routine walk, just so you can have a change of scenery and an opportunity to chat uninterrupted.
He listens to you complain about being outside with his characteristic placid sympathy—a combination that would be a bit contradictory if it came from anyone else, but somehow makes perfect sense for Beel. It’s soothing. Reassuring, somehow. He helps a lot, just by being himself.
When you inevitably run out of energy—much quicker than you usually do, but you expected that—he offers to carry you. Or rather, he automatically goes to do it on muscle memory, because that’s just what he does with tired loved ones (Belphie usually). He catches himself and realizes he should ask first in this case. Just to make sure. He’s considerate like that.
You are very tired… and you want contact. So of course you accept the offer. How could you refuse when he offers so earnestly?
He walks in measured, consistent steps as he carries you. The sway of his movement is deliberately relaxing. He’s trying to lull you into a meditative haze, or maybe put you to sleep. Either is good, he thinks.
The warmth of him makes the… everything about being outside when you’re feeling this way a lot more tolerable. The sounds of his footsteps, his breaths, his heartbeat… all of that drowns out the background noise just enough. Your face is pressed into his jacket, so the streetlights don’t stab your eyes and all the distressingly inconsistent outside smells are entirely covered by the spices-aromatics-soap scent of Beel. It’s a smell you know very well, and the familiarity of it is grounding.
Everything about him is grounding, really. He really did know exactly what to do.
At the end of the day… it’s okay if you don’t smile. He would like you to, of course, but he will meet you where you’re at. Anyway, it’s more important to him that you feel like it’s safe to show however it is you actually feel around him. He understands the amount of trust that takes, and he’s honoured by it. Nothing is more important to him than that trust.
So, you don’t have to smile. It’s okay.
Don’t be strong, he tells you. There’s no need, for now. Just let him. Rest, lean on his strength—he’s got more than enough for both of you. He’s got you. He’s not going anywhere.
_______
Belphie:
Oh, you’re tired? A bit sad, a bit grouchy? Damn. Looks like even HE has more energy than you today. That’s not something he sees often! Well, that’s fine. He knows what to do.
It’s straight to baby jail with you!
In his arms, that is. In bed, surrounded by his best pillows, covered by the least warm heavy blanket he has, so you won’t overheat but will still feel nice and covered.
He positions you so you’re facing each other, with your head tucked under his chin. So you have room to comfortably breathe and talk, but your face is still as covered as possible so you won’t be bothered by any lights.
Emotional intelligence may not be Belphie’s strong suit, but he is observant and he understands exhaustion. This may not exactly be the usual kind of exhaustion, but still! There’s no demon better equipped to understand what’s going on with you right now, just by nature.
He’s totally fine with cuddling you in silence if you don’t feel like talking. That really works for him, actually, because it allows him to nap.
Not that he doesn’t WANT to listen to you. He does. He’d be happy to. But he gets it if you don’t wanna bother with that. It’s okay.
He will, however, delay taking a nap until you doze off first. He just wants to make sure you’re okay. He’s not about to just fall asleep and abandon you if you still need attention.
If you’re not falling asleep very fast, he will help. Not with magic, surprisingly. He’s being more… gentle, he supposes, than that in this situation.
He talks quietly about nothing important. The soft drone of his voice, kept consistent and deliberately soporific, melts into your brain like butter, slowing it way down. Blocking everything else out. Gradually turning it off. One hand rubs your back slowly, almost as if to match the rhythm of his voice.
It’s so relaxing. You feel like you could stay like this forever and never want to move, you’re that comfortable.
Belphie knows what he’s doing.
It works really well! He makes sure you feel loved and cared for, then makes sure you get some extra rest. Mental and physical recharging.
Of course, you wake up feeling a lot better. Maybe not entirely back to your normal self yet, but definitely better. How could you not?
You’re a lot less tired after you’ve slept, and less sad too… so he’s succeeded—but you’re still not smiling!
He can fix that, right?
He lets you get up and stretch first, of course. He does the same. Before you leave the room though, he wraps you up in another hug.
He pulls back to examine your face after a minute or two.
Hmm… you look comfy, but still no smile! He can’t have that! So he hugs you tightly again, but this time his fingers start to lightly poke and brush over your sides. He’s trying to force you to smile by tickling you. He’s not gonna do too much, he’s not trying to overwhelm you. He stops as soon as you crack a smile.
There we go, he says as he gives you one last gentle squeeze. That was all he wanted, he tells you.
He doesn’t let go of you for long, over the rest of the day. Always holding your hand, giving you random hugs, draping himself over your shoulders—but without making you take all his weight for once, because he knows you’re still kinda tired. Enough of it to be soothing, but no more. Just so you don’t get lonely. He doesn’t want you to get all sad again.
If you do get sad again though, it’s okay. He will squish the sadness out of you all over again, as many times as you need. He doesn’t mind.
_______
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darklordofthesimp · 1 year
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Anything V (König x Reader)
The 5th instalment in the Anything-Verse
Main Masterlist 
Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4
Like the characters? 
Sunshine Masterlist  || Saint Masterlist
Series Summary:  A lack of information from the chain of command results in König mistaking you for an enemy sniper.
A/N: Ya’ll are in for a treat with this series. I just figured out the plot like 10 minutes ago hahaha
Category: Angst || Hurt/Comfort || Unrequited Pining || Tension 
Warning: Graphic Language 
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You glared at the woman before you, fury simmering beneath your skin. You felt like you were on fire, you felt like you could commit heinous crimes- you knew that you could kill them.
“I understand that you may feel like this isn’t needed,” the stupid fuck soothed. “But therapy is a proven solution. I can help get you back up and running.” 
Therapy. 
Your fingers dug into the armrests.
“They told me this was training.” You were chewing on the words, jaw tight and eyes narrowed. Deep down you’d known that this was coming, you’d declined ‘help’ after the initial incident but now there was no hiding the darkness that plagued your mind. Everyone had seen it. 
Everyone.
“This is training,” the doctor smiled. “Training of the mind.” 
You visibly cringed. They’d made sure to give you the most disarming person they could find. Kind eyes, an easy smile and a relaxed posture. They looked vulnerable. If the doctor was the most fragile in the room, then it would encourage you to step out and spill your trauma with tears and snot bubbles. Not you. 
You sneered, leaning forward to rest your arms on your knees. “Being chosen to be my therapist is a shit go, Doc.” 
“Actually,” the corner of their lips curled upward. “This’ll piss you off more but I’m doing a friend a favour.” 
You blinked, surprise snatching the next crude words from your tongue. The doctor leaned back into their chair, clicking the pen a couple of times as if emphasising a point. As you stared at them, they stared back, and you suddenly realised that maybe they weren’t as vulnerable as they seemed. 
“Laswell?” You queried. 
The therapist snorted softly. “Price.” 
Your spine straightened, a deep sense of anger twisting violently within your chest. 
Price. 
“Ooh,” the doctor tutted softly, leaning forward in their seat. “Didn’t like that one, did you?” 
You sneered at them, your eyes narrowed and your walls higher than ever. What did they know about what you liked and disliked? What did they know of your relationship with Price? 
“I don’t want to talk about him,” you snapped, crossing your arms over your chest.
“If you had it your way, you wouldn’t talk at all,” the doctor frowned. 
“Then take the fucking hint.” 
Their gaze trailed over your body, taking in the way you leaned away from the conversation. You were an open book and no matter how aggressive the mask you wore was- you were readable. With a huff, the therapist tossed their notebook over their shoulder lazily. It clattered onto the bench behind them, scattering the miscellaneous items in its path. 
“Alright, Birdy. Let’s go off the record then,” they gave you a smile that didn’t quite reach their eyes. “You’re shitty with Price.” 
“I said I didn’t want to talk about him-” 
“You feel like he’s betrayed you.” 
You blinked, fingers trembling even though they were curled into fists. The overarching thought that had been plaguing you for weeks was picked apart by some random fucking doctor. The words were out, you weren’t the one that had said them but they were in the air anyway. It felt good to hear them aloud rather than the screaming thought over and over in the recesses of your mind. 
“Yes.” The confirmation was bitter on your tongue. You waited for the doctor to shut you down, you waited for them to monologue about how your feelings were childish and unprofessional. They were providing you this service as a favour to the Captain, you could only assume that they were friends. 
Instead, the therapist simply nodded. “I would too, Birdy.” 
You loosed a breath that you hadn’t realised you were holding. 
“What was your name again, Doc?” You rasped, eyes narrowing. They shifted in their seat, taken off guard by the sudden change in subject but willing to share nonetheless. 
The doctor shot you a smile- genuine this time.  
“They call me Saint.” 
____
While you didn’t appreciate being ambushed with it, therapy hadn’t been as bad as you’d imagined. Your fingers clenched and unclenched in an attempt to release some tension as you walked.
Every day, you were required to present to the doctors office for a psych appointment. 
Every day, Saint had picked your thoughts apart bit by bit. 
Although you hadn’t intended to talk, you realized quickly that Saint didn’t just look disarming- they were disarming. There was no judgement as you spoke, not when you told them about your murderous nightmares and not when you told them that you’d wanted to beat down the new sniper. 
They only nodded, explaining that it- surprisingly- was natural to feel like that after what you’d experienced. 
You felt validated. 
Less like a liability and more like a recovering victim. 
Your thoughts stuttered to a halt as you laid eyes on the kitchen, the light spilling from the open doorway and out into the hall. You raised a brow at the sight, knowing that only one person would really be awake at this time of night. 
Ghost. 
The flutter in your chest caught you off guard, the thought of seeing Simon had you excited. It’d been a while since you’d both last spoken, a hand on the shoulder as he muttered a “see you soon,” and a “be safe.” All that, right before he boarded a plane with Sunshine in tow. 
“Yeah,” the newest sniper had winked at you with a curved smile. “See you real soon, gorgeous.” 
You hated them, you were sure of it. They were nauseatingly glib, each word rolling off their silver tongue with all the ease but no truth. You couldn’t believe anything they said, you’d be stupid if you did. 
As you approached the kitchen slowly, you heard hushed voices. They were arguing- aggressive and quickly spoken. 
“Is this how it’s going to be?” Sunshine snapped, their words breathless. “For the rest of our time here, this is how you want it to be?” 
From what you’d seen, the new sniper had a reputation for being self-posessed and controlled. They wanted to watch you unravel beneath their sentences, but in order for them to do that they’d have to be unphased by whatever’s thrown at them. 
Right now, there was no sign of that person. 
“What “I want it to be” is you doing your fucking job and me doing mine." The hostility in Simon's tone had you taken aback. You’d never heard him so aggressive towards a teammate and for a split moment, you felt bad for Sunshine. 
“It was!” The sniper shouted, their exhaustion and frustration painstakingly clear. 
“You were reckless.” 
“I was saving you!” 
“I don’t need you to save me!” Ghost finally snapped. The sound of something clattering followed by Sunshine’s sharp breath had you tense. “I don’t need anything from you.” 
There was a soft touch against your shoulder and your heart stuttered in your chest. Fear electrified your body as you spun around. A hand pressed down firmly against your lips, suffocating the scream rising from your throat. 
König’s eyes were narrowed, his head ducked so that he could meet your gaze head on. The look he gave you was accusatory and shame quickly flooded your cheeks. Your fingers came to rest shakily against his wrist, pushing weakly against his hold. 
His brows pulled into a frown. 
“Are you asking me to just let you fucking die?” Sunshine rasped, their seething voice reminding you of where you were. König’s eyes drifted from yours to over your shoulder aimlessly as he listened to their conversation. 
“Don’t flatter yourself,” Ghost drawled. You could hear him struggling for control, the way he drew each breath like it was painful. 
“What the fuck is wrong with you people?” The sniper exclaimed. “If it was Birdy instead of me today you wouldn’t have an issue with it-” 
“But you’re not Birdy,” Ghost snapped, “are you?” 
Silence flooded the space between you all. 
You felt ashamed of yourself. You were somewhere you shouldn’t have been, you were listening to a conversation that you were never intended to hear. This was something personal, the hatred and electricity between Sunshine and Ghost forbidden for your understanding. 
König must have come to the same conclusion. The man shot you a hard stare, his hands falling from your lips to grip your shoulders. He guided you backward quietly, trying to provide an escape that wouldn’t alert them to your presence. 
“No, Sir,” Sunshine’s voice was faint now as you pulled away from the two. “I’m not Birdy.” 
You knew then that something had changed. It was in their voice, it was in the air, it was in the venom of their words- it was a suffocating emotion that you knew too well. 
They were hurt. 
But, hurt breeds bitterness and there was nothing but hatred in Sunshine’s final words. 
I’m not Birdy. 
König sucked in a breath and you knew that he’d heard it as well. When he finally managed to pull you both through the doors of your dormitory unscathed, he let you go. There was no gentleness in his expression this time when he appraised you. 
“What were you thinking?” He growled, running rough fingers through his hair. “That was wrong.” 
“I know,” you whispered, shaken. 
“You shouldn’t have been there,” König continued with a large step away from your quivering body. He was riled up and his anger stimulated your own. Who was he to lecture you? 
“You shouldn’t have been there either,” you said, crossing your arms over your chest. 
König shot you a stern look. “I wouldn’t have stayed if I didn’t find you eavesdropping, naseweis.” 
You rolled your eyes, turning on your heel. While you weren’t falling apart at the sight of him anymore, it didn’t mean that you wanted to be around him. You still wanted nothing to do with König, no interaction, no contact- nothing.
“I don’t need you, of all people, lecturing me on being in the wrong place at the wrong time,” you threw over your shoulder as you walked. There was a huff from the man behind you, then the fall of his footsteps following in suit. 
“Doesn’t the incident make me an expert on that?” König questioned from beside you, keeping pace as though it were a leisurely stroll. You glared up at him, forcing the growing rage clawing at your chest to stay caged. 
“You think it’s funny?” You hissed. “Am I a fucking joke to you?” 
“Of course not!” König’s voice hardened. You both rounded the corner towards your room, it felt like the quicker you moved the easier it was for him to keep up. Another infuriating feature that the Austrian possessed, you’d add it to the already mile-long list. 
“Then why can’t you just leave me alone?” You spun on your heel, facing the beast head on. “It’s like you’re everywhere, König. I can’t escape you, I enter a room and you’re there. I turn a corner, you’re there. I go to sleep and there you fucking are.” 
König raised a brow, leaning his shoulder against the frame beside him. “I’m not stalking you, Birdy. If that’s what you’re trying to imply.” 
“Is that why you’re standing in my bedroom doorway?”
The man’s spine straightened as he took up his own weight, emerald gaze pinning you to your place. It was as though he were surprised, as though he was just now realising that he had been following you. Your chest was heaving as you glared up at him. You wanted him to deny it, to tell you that you were imagining it all- you wanted to be angry. 
“You’re a worrying person,” König finally said. The words almost sounded like an admission, although of what you were unsure. You jaw tightened as you retreated another step back into the safety of your room. 
“No,” you corrected, “you’re a worrying person.” 
König sighed, letting the silence fall in between you for a beat. There was conflict across his expression before finally his eyes narrowed. He stepped into the room. 
Your heart leapt into your throat. 
“Do you think I want to hurt you?” 
There it was. 
It was the question that plagued you as you lay in bed every night, staring at your bedroom door. Or lack thereof, you should say. There was nothing on the hinges, not since König had kicked it down. 
He’d thought you were in danger. You lay before him, unconscious and dreaming. He could have done anything, he could have finished the job. 
But he didn’t. 
König’s head tilted as he observed you, watching you struggle for an answer. His fingers lightly brushed against your forearm and you froze, eyes wide as you stared up at him. He was so tall, dominating every space he entered. He was a giant amongst men, a god. 
“Do you think I want to hurt you, Birdy?” König said again. He didn’t lean down, didn’t drop down to your height this time. He wanted your answer, he wanted you to look at him and take him as he was- he wanted the truth. 
“No,” you whispered. 
The truth. 
Your body trembled as though the room had dropped to subzero temperatures but your skin was on fire. Heat bloomed across your chest, racing the length of your spine, neck and cheeks.
König’s eyes softened and he swayed backward lazily, as though he were drunk fighting for his balance. Neither of you said anything for a long moment. He didn’t ask why you were still afraid, he knew that was an unfair question. He never expected you to be comfortable with his presence. 
But the shift between you both was tangible. 
“Am I right?” The words tumbled from your lips before you could stop them, desperate and vulnerable. An offering, an olive branch an extension of trust. 
 Something washed over the man before you, something you’d never seen before. His gaze was ferocious, jade fire burning beneath those lashes as it scorched your skin. Determination tightened his jaw and his thumb brushed across the skin of your arm like a promise. 
An unspoken response. 
Yes. 
Your breath left your chest as you took another step away, suffocating in his presence. König inhaled heavily, his hands falling back to rest at his sides. 
“I still-” You began, twisting your fingers anxiously. 
“I know.” 
You still hadn’t forgiven him. 
There was a long way to go, but now the path had changed. Rather than there being a straight road, shrouded in hatred, there was a fork. A split in the path that required a decision, one that you weren’t quite ready to make yet. 
König cleared his throat, softening his stance with conscious effort. It was as if he remembered that he was meant to be disarming. Watching the huge man try to shrink himself for your comfort was surreal, nothing like what you’d imagined when you’d first laid eyes on him after your recovery. 
Ghost had never made himself smaller for you when you came out of hospital. He was slower, gentler, as though dealing with a frightened animal- but he never pretended to be something that he was not. 
“Do you think they heard us?” You changed the topic as your mind fell back to Ghost and Sunshine. “How would we explain that?” 
König blinked, clearly glad for the break in intensity. He shifted backward, moving to make his escape as your interaction came to a close. For once, he was the one running from you.
“Wrong place, wrong time,” he muttered, an ironic smile playing at his lips. “They won’t have a hard time believing that given our history.” 
 The man offered you a nod, fingers tapping against the door with finality- his own farewell. You were glad that he hadn’t said ‘goodnight’, that he hadn’t bothered with niceties. You were not friends. Not allies. 
You weren’t sure what you were. 
When he disappeared around the door, his footsteps retreating down the hall, you finally let yourself relax. Jitters skittered across your body, the remnants of electricity from your confrontation buzzing beneath your skin. 
Wrong place, wrong time. 
The words struck a chord of discomfort within you. 
They followed you through your night routine, plaguing you in the shower, lingering as you made a cup of tea, whispering sickness as you laid in bed. They made you nauseous, they made you dizzy, they were disconcerting. 
Wrong place, wrong time. 
The whole accident had been such a tragic coincidence, a monumental mistake. Almost impossible in an environment where communication is key, everything working in perfect tandem to ensure your demise. 
Throughout the length of your military career, you’d always been taught to never take anything as chance. If a bush rustled beside you, there was a possibility that it was an animal- but also that it could be an enemy. If there was a light beneath a door, it could have been left on or there was someone waiting for you on the other side. You were taught not to trust coincidence. 
The failure of comms, the false intel of a sniper on a roof, the unexpected of KorTac, the largest soldier of their team being sent to find you- all of it was a perfectly timed but tragic coincidence. 
You tossed in your bed, trying to drown the thoughts from your crumbling mind. It seems you didn’t need a nightmare tonight to bring on terror. Your resolve began to slip, the sudden sense of dread gripping you by the throat. 
Wrong place, wrong time. 
You wanted to rake the thoughts from your brain with your bare fingers. You wanted to rip out the connection you’d made and go to sleep in bliss ignorance.
Wrong place, wrong time. 
The way König had brought it up, the way he’d said it, maybe he was feeling it too. Maybe you weren’t as insane as you felt. Maybe your thoughts weren’t as unreliable as they seemed. You clenched your jaw, nails digging into the skin of your palm hoping that the pain would pull you back from the edge you teetered on. 
Wrong place, wrong time. 
Wrong for both you and König … but, as you lay staring at your missing door, you couldn’t shake the thought that maybe it was all just right for somebody else.
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hypewinter · 2 months
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You know Duke doesn't get nearly as much love within the dp x dc fandom as he deserves. That man has as much potential as the rest of them and to prove it, I give you the following scenario we see a lot of:
Danny as Duke's brother
Danny reincarnates because after a long time as a full ghost, he wants to experience living again. The only problem is that he reincarnates to some pretty crappy parents. They never wanted him and they make it blatantly obvious. Luckily, Danny's best friend and his family are incredibly nice. They celebrate his achievements when his parents are too drunk to care and let him sleep over all the time. One day Duke's parents make the sleepover permanent and Danny never has to go home again (it isn't until years later he learns the Thomas's persuaded his parents to give up their parental rights).
Thus begins Danny's life as the second Thomas son. And honestly life starts going pretty good for Danny. Who knew having healthy and loving parents would do such wonders on Danny's development and mental health? But then tragedy strikes. Their parents disappear and the two are placed in foster care. Duke reassures him that everything will be fine. That they'll stick together no matter what. But Duke keeps disappearing at night. He claims he's looking for their parents, but he never lets Danny go with him (This is to protect him). And suddenly all of Danny's unprocessed trauma from this life and the last comes flooding in and he gets this intense urge to keep Duke in his sights at all times. So he becomes Duke's shadow.
He sneaks out after Duke and gets back before he does. He makes sure to keep just the right distance so that Duke doesn't notice him but he can also jump into action if need be. Anytime Danny loses sight of his brother, he panics. He practically goes feral until Duke is in his sights again. Danny is determined to keep his brother safe. He doesn't want to end up all alone anymore. He wouldn't be able to handle it.
As time passes, Danny begins to believe this will be their new routine. Him constantly chasing after Duke. Constantly worrying if this is the day he'll be left all alone. And things only get worse. Because it turns out their parents were jokerized and there's nothing to be done about it. So Danny's hope that one day he could get his perfect little family back in dashed on the rocks. Then Bruce Wayne comes and offers to foster them and Duke agrees but Danny silently doesn't.
He knows who Bruce Wayne really is. He knows that he's training his brother. He knows that he's taking Duke away from him. He knows there's nothing he can do about it. So Danny sinks even further. He stops following Duke around. Then he stops going outside all together. He starts pushing everyone away (that way it'll be easier when they eventually leave him).
Meanwhile on Duke's end, he notices his brother pulling away. He noticed for a while actually. He just thought that Danny was having a tough time during this transition period so he gave him some space. But then Danny keeps shutting people out and so he starts taking things a little more seriously. Duke starts trying to coax Danny out of his room. He tries to get him to talk about his interests again. But all he gets is angry lash outs instead. Finally Danny says something that makes Duke angry and a massive confrontation ensues. This of course leads to a heart to heart confession time and finally Danny opens up. He spills everything and the two brothers embrace in a tearful heart to heart. We end with Danny slowly starting to interact with the others at Wayne Manor (And getting some much needed therapy too).
Whether Danny joins Duke on patrol is up to you
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selineram3421 · 3 months
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*stumbles in and door slams into the wall* Ding-dong💘
Soft Love
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Alastor X Chubby Reader
Warnings ⚠
⚠ food mention-desserts and strawberries, hurt/comfort, italics=thoughts, insecurities, mentions of murder, mention of cannibalism, slight implied/suggestive ⚠
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Life in Hell was hectic.
Love in Hell? Nearly impossible to find.
Especially if its real.
Alastor knew you as the kind, soft demon that everyone got along with in the hotel staff.
Kind even to him.
Your work at the hotel was mostly in the arts. The Princess has you in the therapy area to help sinners express their emotions with different mediums.
Such an interesting demon you were with many hobbies. Painting, singing, dancing, baking, designing, cooking, knitting, photography, drawing. The list could go on possibly for a while, you haven't shared all of them.
He was curious, wondering exactly what damned you to Hell.
"Alastor!"
Speak of the devil, you called.
"Yes dear?", he looked up from his book.
He sat on the lobby couch that was just across the bar, patiently waiting for you to speak.
"Could you try something for me? I made some lava cake for desert but I want to make sure yours is the right amount of bitter."
Yes, you were also very considerate and attentive.
"Of course dear!", he stood from the couch and whisked his book away into the shadows. "You know I always look forward to your baking."
He followed behind you, smiling a little wider at the pep in your step.
The Radio Demon knew that he had feelings for you. It took him a while to come to terms with it but let it happen anyway.
You were also the only person that he touched (respectfully) often. Holding your hand, linking your arms together, squishing your cheeks, holding you close for a dance. All excuses just to feel your warmth and softness.
Sure, he's let his friend Rosie touch him but she knew that he didn't like physical contact too often unless it was needed for dancing.
"I made your cake less sweet too!", you turned to look back at him with a smile.
"I appreciate it."
Once both of you entered the kitchen, you showed him the cakes and got out two different chocolate mixes.
"The lighter one is the sweetest, and the darker one is quite bitter.", you placed the bowls on the counter. "I actually want to try it with strawberries too.."
"Sounds appetizing!", he stepped closer and placed his hand on your lower back, leaning forward. "I wouldn't mind having a bite."
You blushed and avoided his gaze.
How adorable.
"I'll get a spoon for you to try the chocolate.", you said before walking out of his hold and over to the drawers near the door.
One thing he noticed was that when it came to his touch, you'd shy away. When he gave you compliments regarding your appearance, you would brush him off or put yourself down.
It upset him greatly.
Somewhat impatient, he swiped up some of the dark chocolate with his finger and tasted it.
"Alastor!"
Like a child, he quickly held his hands behind his back as if to hide something.
"Yes?"
You sighed and got a napkin before walking up to the red man.
"No use in hiding what you did.", you held out your hand.
"But I'm not hiding anything.", he shows you his hands by placing them on yours. "See?"
You hum and pull him down by his hands. "You've got chocolate on the side of your lip deer.", you point out and laugh.
He let's you clean him up with the napkin.
When you pull back, he stops you by taking a hold of your hand with the napkin. Calling your name, the Radio Demon looks you in the eye.
"I have a question for you"
"What is it?", you ask.
"Why is it that whenever I give you a compliment, you disregard it?"
In a second you stiffened and stared at him wide eyed.
"W-what? I don't do that..", you tried to pull away.
Alastor places a kiss on your fingers, still not letting go of your hand.
"Don't lie to me my dear, I always remember everything about you."
You look away with a sigh.
The frown on your face makes his unbeating heart ache.
"I don't like to talk about it.", you say and pull away.
Instead of leaving, you move the bowls and hop onto the counter to sit. Then you take a moment before speaking.
"I wasn't always treated right because of how big I looked.", you said with a sad smile. "I wasn't beauty standard perfect, or had a body that someone could ogle."
The red demon listened.
"When I did get into a relationship, it wasn't good. I was belittled, abused, and cheated on. But I still loved with my whole being..", you moved your hands onto your lap. "I was stabbed to death by them."
Alastor had to hold back his anger.
He wanted to find the person who dared treat you like nothing. To torture and rip them apart. To eat them alive.
"Silly, isn't it?", you smiled sadly, staring down at your hands. "Its what got me killed in the first place but yet I'm still chasing after it."
The Radio Demon slowly took your hands and gently rubbed them.
"You just put your heart in the wrong hands.", he said and lifted your hands to kiss your knuckles. "If I was the one who you loved, you wouldn't have to worry about any affairs."
He kissed the inside of your wrist.
"I'd compliment you everyday."
You were blushing madly at this point, too shocked and flustered to stop him.
He kissed your shoulder.
"I would never hurt you.", he says and kisses your cheek before whispering. "Unless you asked me to."
"Alastor-", you got one of your hands out of his hold to cover your mouth and some of your red face.
He leans back a bit to get a good look at you.
"I don't know how they couldn't see you for who you are. You're absolutely divine and worth so much more than anything anyone else could offer me."
You were tearing up at this point, still covering your mouth.
Carefully, the deer demon moved your hand away and caressed the side of your face. Wiping away a stray tear from your cheek.
"I love you."
You start tearing up more and he sees them start running down, some wetting his hand.
"I love all of you.", he smiles genuinely. "And if anyone dared try to insult or belittle you again, I'll make sure to torture them a million times over until you ask me to stop."
You've begun to quietly sob, wiping your tears as best as you could with your free hand.
"May I kiss you?"
You laugh at that.
"I'm a mess!", you say with a breathy laugh before sniffling.
"No, you're adorable.", he kisses the top of your head.
He let's you take a minute to calm down and helps you wipe your tears and snot away.
"Can you ask again?", you give him a shy smile.
"May I kiss you?", his smile widens.
"Yes please."
Both of you share a soft but long kiss.
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I found the merch!
~Seline, the person.
Taglist@
None for right now until I can fix how to add more tags.
ML for Alastor🎙
Extra:
You confess to Alastor that you've had a crush on him for quite a while.
"How long?", he asks, deer ears perked up.
"Uh..haha.", you look away with a blush. "After a week of joining the hotel.."
Doing the math, he realized that you've fancied him four months before he started growing feelings for you.
"Is that why you would ask what my favorite meals are? And how much sweetness I could tolerate?"
You nod.
"I can't believe how oblivious I've been. You've been gifting and making things for me.", his deer ears droop down and his brows furrow. "I must make up for all the time you spent on me."
"It's alright love.", you smiled.
"No, you can't change my mind.", he says and steals a kiss. "I'm going to spoil you."
🫀
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spookysteddie · 4 months
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Text Me The Details
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Modern!Rockstar!Eddie Munson x Influencer!fem!reader
18+ MINORSDNI
cw: gossip magazines, reader being horny on a live stream, cocky!Eddie, drinking, drugs mention
a/n: I kinda want this to be a series? So expect a part two at some point. But yeah this isn't an original idea so, credit to literally everyone who's done this before me. I gave reader a last name because if I have to write y/l/n one more time I'll sob. ANYWAY I hope you all enjoy and let me know if you like this!
WC: 1.2k
...
You are never drinking again. Ever.
Your management would agree after what happened last night. You didn’t mean to spill the secret you’d been keeping. It wasn’t even that big of a deal, however, you had an image to keep up. The party girl, the kind one, the one with lots of friends, the girl who had good grades in college, the one who always donated most of her fortune to various organizations. 
Now, every tabloid was writing articles about your celebrity crush. 
Party girl and influencer drunkenly admits she’d love to sleep with lead singer of Corroded Coffin Eddie Munson. Sources have said they’ve been together for a while but decided to keep it under wraps. 
The dating portion of that article wasn’t true and you silently vow to figure out who the fuck these ‘sources’ were. However, you admitting to wanting to fuck Eddie… did happen. You have no one to blame but yourself. 
Now, there are three reasons why you’re so stressed about this. First, even though you party all the time, you were good. You know, like only went out on the weekends, did every single assignment, tutored people on the side, was probably the most unproblematic influencer out there. Second, the last thing you wanted was Eddie Munsons attention. You had this thing where you didn’t want the people you were fans of to perceive you. 
Theoretically you knew they did, most of them followed you on social media. But there was a difference between being a fan of someone, and them semi-knowing you vs your actual crush who you own a poster or two of? That makes you want to throw up and pass out at the same time. 
But, finally, the third reason this stressed you out was because Eddie and his crew were not good. You know like, partied every single day, smoked a lot of weed and snorted coke off of his groupies and fans. It was all over the tabloids and the band has even posted about it a time or two. You didn’t do that. And if the tabloids caught you doing that, you’d lose everything you worked towards.
“So this is how we’re going to fix it,” Case, your manager, says from where she’s standing next to the fireplace in your apartment. “You’re gonna go back on live and say it was an accident.” 
You look up from the article you were reading, eyes finding his. “That is the worst idea ever. I was tipsy not black out drunk. No one will ever believe that was an accident.” You huff, locking your phone, “and I have tickets to their show next week.” 
You loved your team, but sometimes they made the most insane comments on how to fix the unfixable. 
You stand, pacing the room, “he isn’t one to read gossip magazines. And-and I’m not on the same level as his band. They’re A listers and I’m C list at best.” 
Your manager and publicist look like fish after what you said. Anna, your publicist speaks first, “I swear to god if you ever say that again I am uppin your therapy appointments. You hear me?” 
You huff, sitting back down on the couch, “I’m not kidding though. I’m not giving up this ticket. It’s one of the few things I’m looking forward to.” 
Case answers after rubbing her temples, “you better pray this blows over without him seeing it. You may party but his partying is a whole other level.” 
… 
The call came two days later, an unknown number popping up on your phone. 
You knew, you knew before you even accepted the call who’d be on the other end of the line. 
It felt like it started in slow motion, first came the gossip mags with the original story. Then came Eddie following you on instagram. He’d like a few photos and stories you put up. Then came his interview. The interview where he said, “of course I know who she is. I’m flattered really. I hear she’s a sweet girl.” 
Now, your phone is buzzing in your hand and you can’t bring yourself to answer the phone. 
“Yes just a fucking person. Just like you’re a person. Answer the phone.” You look down at the phone and are thankful it’s just you in your house. You tap the answer button, a fake smile on your face, as you put the phone to your ear. 
“Hello?” you use your best interview voice, the one Anna has drilled into you. 
You can hear him breathe in before letting it out, long and slow, it’s clear he took a drag of his cigarette. Is he nervous too? There’s no way. Eddie always seemed to be this cool and calm guy, never afraid of anything or anyone. He gets into more fights in a week than you have in your entire 25 years of existence. 
“Good afternoon, Miss Asher.” You can hear the grin in his voice and it sends a shiver down your spine, your heart pounding in your chest. “It’s Eddie.” 
He didn’t have to introduce himself to you, you’d be able to pick out his voice in a crowded room. But only because you’ve listened to his music so often… only reason. 
“Oh! Hi! I’m s-surprised to hear from you.” You cringe at the stutter that came out of you. You had more than enough practice dealing with any situation thrown at you. From the funny to the uncomfortable to the scary. You were trained for this and you were fucking it up. “How can I help you?” 
“The band and I will be in town next friday, we’re playing a show.” You know where this is going and it makes your heart beat faster, so fast you’re scared it’ll burst. “I was wonderin’ if you were goin’?”
Oh fuck. Oh fuck. Oh fuck. Oh fuck.
“I am, actually. Me and a few of my friends actually.” You rub your hands down your sweatpants, nerves making them sweat. 
“Oh! Well that is fantastic,” his tone is chipper as hell and you know he’s high. On what, you have no idea. “I was thinkin’ that maybe ya friends and you’d wanna join us backstage. VIP area for the show? What cha think?” 
All of sudden you forget how the english language works, your tongue sticking to the roof of your mouth. This is what you’ve been wanting for so long. Well, in your dreams of course. But looking at it from a business perspective, it could bring his fans to your page and your fans to his page. It was kind of a win win. Well, win win lose because then Corroded coffin knows who the actual fuck you are and you arent just some fan. And that, terrified you,  
“Heeeeeeello? Are you there?” 
His voice breaks through your clogged mind, forcing you to respond. 
“Hi, sorry. I’m here! I um I got distracted. But, yeah that sounds great, actually. We-we’d love that.” 
“Good! I will have my people call your people, yeah?” 
“O-or you can just send me the information,” you say it before thinking and now you really want to punch yourself. 
He chuckles to himself, “okay, sweetheart, I’ll text you the information. See you next friday.” 
He hangs up before you can say another fucking stupid thing. You press the phone into your hands, foot bouncing on the floor with nerves. You can think of seven different ways that conversation could’ve (and should’ve) happened. One of which was with your entire team, another being with your friends, another being with your parents. Not alone to make a fool out of yourself. Your management team was really going to kill you.
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