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#I either feel nothing at all or everything at once and I can’t balance it
hobisexually · 11 months
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#i! feel! so! disconnected! from everything and everyone#and it’s so god damn annoying#I either feel nothing at all or everything at once and I can’t balance it#but if I take the time to sit with the things I’m scared of I’ll just keel over I don’t have time for it#Im just on autopilot moving ahead#because I have to! if I don’t my fear will win from me and that will Not be pretty#and that’s what I’m so upset about like I didn’t get something I really wanted#and it’s fully because of anxiety but the alternative is WORSE#and the people involved don’t KNOW I have anxiety but I can’t tell them either because it will make them look at me differently and I can’t#afford them to. I can’t let that happen and I think this is the first time I’m realising how much it holds me back even after uni#and I’m so angry over it dndndnd so so so angry and if they KNEW how much I had gone through no one would ever doubt my ability to —#bounce back and take charge of a situation ever again. they’d know I can do that. But it’s too private to share so now it’s up to me to#BELIEVE it and just show them but it takes so much out of me every time#and if it weren’t for the pandemic I would’ve been much further along and if it weren’t for my fucking burnout I’d have been further along#and it weren’t for my Fucking dad I’d be further along. I’m just so mad#so mad that I have to undo and tackle so much when people just sail through things but for me EVERYTHING takes effort#also I have not seen or spoken to my dad since December and I have a wedding he’s attending and I can’t get out of it#and I constantly pingpong between ‘its for the best I broke off contact I needed the space to heal’ and ‘I am a horrible person for taking#his only daughter away from him instead of talking’#but I’ve TRIED the talking and he just never LISTENS????? and made me feel so unsafe in this world at all times#I’m constantly trying to undo all that and it’s exhausting and no one gets how much effort that takes and I can’t tell them either#like. not gonna unload my trauma on people but if they KNEW they’d get why I don’t always react optimally to things the way they do#aaarffggHhhhHHHhHhhh#also I’m not even enjoying festa I’m not tuned in at ALL and that’s also deeply upsetting but there’s no other way atm#Also. did a thing in PFPT today that. I feel complicated things and I’m just upset about the way my life’s been until now#its making me feel worse than I was expecting#oh AND I was on a trip with friends I’ve had for 16+ years and they all were so happy to be together#felt so connected with each other and it was familiar and safe and lovely they said#meanwhile I cried at 3am in the bathroom because I had never felt more alienated from them ever#I know who /I/ am and what I want and don’t want but the dissonance with the rest of the world….. what the fuck man. What is my place even
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norman-fucking-reedus · 2 months
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More GirlDaddy Daryl cause the love I have for him is actually not funny
I thought of a name a longgg time ago for his daughter that I think is super cute, It was gonna be Darylina but then I thought how Daryl would hate that THEN I thought how DARYL would make CAROL the grandma so obviously Carolina is the perfect name
She’d be called Lina for short, Carol as a joke and Carolina when shes in buttfuck trouble (which teenege Lina gets into a lot of but shes her mothers child)
I feel like she’d be a total badass, a good balance between Daryl badass and Y/n badass. She’s a hardcore daddys girl so by age ten she was already mastering the Dixon way of hunting.
“Ya got light steps naturally, let’s keep em tha’ way kiddo”
“Okay daddy!”
Lina would be more like Daryl as a kid, and I feel like Daryl was a rowdy kid.
She practically bounces off the walls from the assigned hours of too early in the morning to too late in the evening. Getting jumped on before he gets out of bed wasn’t exactly on Daryl’s bucket list (but he wouldn’t have it any other way)
Yes, she constantly climbs onto her father like a cat. No, there’s nothing he can do to get her squealing giggling frame off him. His only option is to accept his fate and play 21 questions directly over his shoulder.
“Lina! M’working, get offa me”
“Wha’cha workin’ on?”
“Stuff”
“Wha kinda stuff?”
“Adult stuff”
“Wha kinda adult stuff?”
Daryl uses her whenever he works on his bike, and his massive fingers can’t fit to reach something. She feels very important when her tiny fingers reach it, and she lets Daryl know how very useless he is.
“Daddy yer not gonna be able to fight if ya can’t fit yer fingers in stuff”
“Really? Damn. Good thing yer gonna protect me”
“No daddy, yer have to protect yerself because m’gon go protect mommy”
“Tha’s good idea, mommy can’t protect herself”
“But mommy can fit her fingers in stuff”
“Then why ya protectin’ her ‘nd not me?”
“Because I like mommy”
“I like mommy more”
Oh maybe I should mention they bicker over EVERYTHING. And guess who has to be the tiebreaker?
“Babe! Tell this rat tha peanut butter is indefinitely better than tha jelly!”
“Daryl she doesn’t even know either of those are and everyone knows jelly over butter”
“See mommy is always right!”
“Are ya cheatin’ one me??”
There’s a very strong love-hate relationship between him and teenage Lina, especially when hormones start to change and tempers flare.
Once again, Lina is a mini Daryl and Y/n, so when she shoots back during arguments, she’s aiming for the head.
“For tha last time, no. Too dangerous and m’not gon be able ta keep an eye on ya. End of discussion, quit pushin it”
“M’not a fucking kid anymore. I didn’t want ya keepin’ a damn eye on me in tha first place?!”
“Gettin real ballsy there little girl, I said wha’ I said”
“Ballsy? Little? Clearly I got more balls than ya since yer too fuckin’ scared to take me”
“Carolina. Wherever this is comin’ from, cut it the fuck out.”
“I’m gonna cut you the fuck out.”
“Scuse me?“
“Good luck on the battlefield when ya can’t even fuckin’ hear”
After every hard slam of her door, Daryl is left to stand in the deafening silence feeling like an utter failure.
Obviously, he gives her the time to decompress before going to apologize, this time with his crossbow in hand.
The door creaks slightly open before all the way, however there’s no little girl that comes running out into his arms. She stands tall in front of him, mirroring his expression of anxious discomfort.
“Ya stay close, no matter what. Understand?”
“Okay”
Daryl hands her the crossbow.
“Look- I know yer not a kid, but yer still my kid. Yer gon always be m’little girl an yer growin’ up scares tha livin’ shit out of me”
“Ya’ve killed people.. isn’t tha’ scary?”
“Wha’s scary tha’ if I didn’t kill ‘em they might’ve killed ya”
Lina hugs him tearfully.
“M’sorry fer arguin’ with ya”
“Nah, m’sorry fer not givin’ ya a chance”
。・:*:・゚★。・:*:・゚☆ 。・:*:・゚★
(Daryl’s inner child definitely gets healed each time after apologizing and talking it out. He breathes so much better and just feels so much better AUGH my baby)
© norman-fucking-reedus 2024. I do not give permission for my works to be copied, modified, or adpated to any other platform. You may translate my works with my asked and given consent.
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matryosika · 3 months
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Johnny; Power Dynamic and Other Analysis
Wordcount — 1,086 words Includes — Headcanons Genre — Smut 18+ ✉️ Author's Note — Took me forever to fulfill this request, but here it is! I honestly felt like I got too immersed into the power dynamic bit, but honestly I had plenty to say about Johnny. Please keep in mind that these are headcanons and I'm just free-associating for a thousand words straight; this is fiction and in no way I'm claiming this is real. It's honestly the vibes I get from him, and that's pretty much it.
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Nurturing, guiding and a natural giver —a soft and service dom. 
I picture Johnny as someone dominant, both in sexual and non-sexual contexts. He likes to take the lead, to guide and might even love to teach others —during intimacy, he is no different.
He doesn’t strike me as a sadist at all; Johnny is tender when it comes to the physical aspects, and practices such as impact play might not be his cup of tea. Not even when it comes to punishments.
Because as much of a soft and service dom he can be, I sense Johnny likes it when you submit entirely. He can switch from being a soft dom to a brat tamer, but it’s not what he likes best —he likes it when you behave and, willingly, submit to him. He finds it endearing, and he might even think it is somewhat romantic to be in complete control of you.
Because yes, he enjoys being in complete control of you. In and out of bed. 
If you’re loyal to him, behave and submit in the ways Johnny wants you to submit, then he might reward you with the pleasure of having no responsibilities. Would even take the weight of deciding anything (from what food to eat, to which clothes to wear) off your shoulders, if you want and allow him to.
In that sense, I see Johnny as someone who takes his role very seriously —he is the type to “whatever my baby wants, my baby gets” as long as you behave. If you’re good to him, he will be good to you.
But Johnny can be quite stern, and he is not one to let things slip. Not once. 
If you're good, then you're safe. If you do him wrong, expect some retaliation from his side.
Johnny is something of an extremist —either he gives you everything or nothing at all. Denial might be his favorite way to punish you, and he doesn't even flinch at your begging and crying whenever the punishment lasts for a bit too long.
He also doesn't mind abstaining from sex because he is really in control of himself. Johnny doesn't bend easily, and that's why his punishments denying you are way worse than a couple of spankings or other forms of physical punishments. 
Onto the practices he likes, I feel very strongly about dumbification, but like, it comes naturally. There’s something about this man that just screams to me that he might phrase his sentences and perform his actions in a way that could make you feel you silly, that you know nothing —it’s the perfect balance between humiliation and guidance. He is overstimulating you so much to the point that you can't form a coherent sentence? Don't worry, Johnny can help you find the words. You're too embarrassed to say what you want? He might make you repeat word by word after him. You can no longer come without his help? “Do I have to do everything for you, baby? Don’t worry, I got you”. 
Johnny needs you to need him. And he is okay bearing the responsibilities such a thing entails. 
But even whilst being a service dom, when his pleasure mostly derives from yours, his own physical pleasure can’t be neglected. Johnny is very talkative about what he wants and how he wants it, and he doesn’t mind teaching you what he likes, taking his time shaping you into the perfect submissive for him. 
It's not that he wants someone who is well-experienced, and that they know what they're doing —he wants someone that is willing to learn everything there is about him, to teach them what he is into and how he likes it. 
He wants someone perfectly made for him, and him only; so this is probably a good time to talk about his corruption kink.
The corruption for him would be introducing you to his lifestyle, the things he likes. He isn't necessarily interested in teaching you what sex is about, no —he wants to teach you all the things he knows, the way he lives, the things he enjoys. He wants to corrupt you into finding new pleasures, into finding satisfaction in things you didn't think could satisfy you before. There's also some corruption into moving the power dynamics you two might have in bed into non-sexual contexts —corrupting you into “behaving”, into following rules, into trusting him enough to give him your freedom of will and choice.
However, with everything mentioned above, please note that consent means everything to him. And albeit stern when it comes to rules and punishments, Johnny values input. He will never act without your consent, and will never move forward with such a dynamic without any sort of negotiation. He would also respect it if you're not willing to offer him what he wants, and might want to work together to get to a common ground.
And just like he wants you to learn about him, he takes his role as a dom very seriously as he learns from you. He knows everything, from the smallest little things such as your favorite snack or color, to things that might have to do with your emotions or thoughts. Johnny wants you to rely on him, and might offer you intimacy as a way of treating yourself from dealing with the stress and anguish the real world can cause.
He is tender and loves taking his time with foreplay. Sex can last for hours with him, and I'm not talking precisely about penetration —petting, masturbation, oral sex, dirty talk... he likes to take his time with you and your pleasure. Because of this, I don’t feel like he enjoys quickies, nor fucking in uncomfortable places. It’s either the bed or nothing.
And although he might be picky with all that stuff, you should know that it is for a reason. His priority is that you both feel comfortable, in a safe space where you two can unwind. Johnny doesn’t mind to show the dynamic you two have to the world —however, sex is a whole other issue. Such intimacy is between you and him only, unless discussed otherwise.
Because yes, if you want a threesome, Johnny will agree. 
If you want to experiment with a new kink or fetish, Johnny will say yes.
If there’s something you’d like to try out, Johnny will comply.
To whatever you want, actually.
You know —with him, what you want, you get.
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snailmail444 · 4 months
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After reading the Masturbationen headcanons for the Bachelors… Can we get masturbation headcanons for the bachelorettes? 🫶🏻
Bachelorette Masturbation Headcannons
18+ 🌱 NSFW 🌱 MDNI
This took soooo long. So so long. But it’s HERE! I’ll probably be double posting today since the poll said post as I finish and I actually have two asks done hehe. Hope y’all are ready for a double feature! NSFW under the cut!
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Penny-
🧡 It’s all or nothing for penny. Either her mom is out and she’s got all the time in the world, or her mom is home and she can’t hide a damn thing.
🧡 Luckily Pam has a solid routine every night, so Penny has been able to find time for herself when the mood strikes.
🧡 It’s not a usual occurrence for Penny. She’s got a lot of deep-seated repression that makes it tough for her to follow through on any sexual urges. She’s still undoing the small-town-youth dynamic that it’s dirty and shameful for women to pleasure themselves.
🧡 Sometimes though she’ll be reading fanfic (because let’s be so real you know she does), and she can’t ignore the ache in her center anymore.
🧡 Bites down on her lip and edges her bottoms off anxiously, still a little worried someone might jump out of the shadows and damn her in the name of Yoba for sinning.
🧡 Settles in pretty fast though, and lets herself get lost in the story. Pretends she’s the character being ravaged, typically in a highly romantic setting.
🧡 Penny seems like a total pillow humper to me. Gets all flushed and red and tries to muffle her moans as she grinds against the fabric.
🧡 Really sensitive so she doesn’t need much more than that. Maybe a free hand to play with her breast, but honestly not even that.
🧡 One and Done. The guilt sets in and she feels embarrassed all over once she finishes, so she throws everything in to wash and showers off the evidence ASAP.
Maru-
💜 Doesn’t have a ton of personal space/boundaries during the day. She has to wait until nighttime to even think of letting off some steam (thanks, Demetrius)
💜 Once she’s certain her parents are asleep—thank god Sebastian doesn’t ever leave his room, the night owl—Maru climbs down into the privacy of her workshop and allows herself to unwind.
💜 Maru is a woman in STEM. A gadget queen, if You will.
💜 She only has a couple of toys, but they’re high-end splurges. Quality over quantity.
💜 Could make her own if she really wanted to, but she’s got more robotics projects on her plate than she can finish. The last thing she wants is to have to wait to finish making her sex toy before having fun with it.
💜 Her favorite is just a plain blue toy that looks unassuming, but it feels like it’s thrusting inside her, and she can just lay back and enjoy it.
💜 Girls arms and wrists are tired after a day of engineering, so it’s a lifesaver to not have to do that work herself. All she wants is to feel fucked full and nothing else.
💜 Maru’s mind is always going, which is good and bad when she’s trying to get off. On the one hand, it makes for some vivid fantasies. On the other, sometimes she doesn’t want to have to think at all.
💜 Her fantasies are often of whirlwind, desperate romances. Stolen away in the nearest closet, shoved up against a tree, spread out on top of her workbench. She dreams of reckless, passionate, I need you this minute sex. It gets her so wet she’s soaking.
💜 On the days when she wants her brain to go quiet, she’ll make sure to keep going until she’s cum three or four times. Until her ears are ringing and her body is completely exhausted. Kind of a stamina queen, to be honest.
💜 She sleeps like a baby on those nights.
Emily-
💙 Lowkey I think Emily would be a licensed sex therapist.
💙 She’s very well educated in the importance of sexual health. For her it’s a spiritual practice of keeping herself balanced.
💙 Haley’s home like all the time which sucks, but she gets an okay amount of privacy regardless because their rooms are on opposite sides of the house.
💙 Lights incense that has properties good for sexual energy or something I dunno.
💙 Has a (body safe!) crystal wand that she fucks herself with.
💙 Loves how cool it feels at first and the fact that it warms to match her body temperature.
💙 Little miss active imagination doesn’t need porn or anything, she just gets right the hell off on her fantasies.
💙 As for what she fantasizes about? Girl goes wild thinking about having three or four partners. Ideally it’s three or four people all focused on pleasing her, every sensation hands and mouths and skin on skin—she gets really hot thinking about it.
💙 Her nipples are really sensitive so she makes sure to stimulate them a lot, pretending she has someone to focus on each one individually.
💙 Enjoys being present with her body and engages her senses. Really wants to sit with all the sensations and draw them out.
💙 Doesn’t cum every time, but that’s not the point for her. Unless she’s specifically trying to cum, it’s an added bonus. Something nice, but not necessary. It’s all about the journey for Emily.
Leah-
💚 Leah has it MADE in terms of getting off.
💚 Queen of living alone in the woods.
💚 Full privacy. Loud noise never carries from the solid insulation and the dampening of the trees. She can’t full out scream without being heard, but almost.
💚 Has a collection of dildos she’s made herself out of scrap wood. She started making them as a joke, but then she was like actually…this could be great for me.
💚 Don’t worry, she’s taken great care in making sure they’re body safe. Made with love and all that.
💚 Her favorites are the ones that she’s left knots on. A smooth fuck is nice, but she loves the added sensation from the bumps.
💚 Her internet isn’t great, but she’s lucky to have a collection of artsy porn films. Again, something that started as more of a fascination, but to be honest it’s super hot.
💚 One in particular is her favorite, with a long shot of eating pussy. It’s supposed to be a love story, the way it’s framed, but more than anything it’s just hot. Reminds her of some of the best oral she’s ever gotten.
💚 Takes her a long time to get off, but she’s learned not to rush it. She’ll finish when she finishes, and it’s always worth it.
💚 Needs a nice, long, relaxing shower afterwards, and unwinds with a cup of herbal tea.
Haley-
🩷 Emily is gone a lot working at the bar until late, so she doesn’t have to worry about finding time.
🩷 Definitely has a collection of toys for whatever mood she’s in.
🩷 Quality AND Quantity babe Haley will not deny herself pleasure.
🩷 Absolutely will treat herself too. A nice glass of wine and some mood lighting. Big fan of setting the vibe (pun intended).
🩷 Soft BDSM girlie. Adores any porn where the sub ends up a whiny desperate mess
🩷 It’s an ego trip. She absolutely wants to think that whoever she’s with would be reduced to absolute pathetic begging for her.
🩷 She finishes faster than she would like sometimes, so she’s mastered the art of edging.
🩷 She’s not gonna put all that effort in for nothing. If she’s set taking her time to enjoy herself she’s going to be TAKING her TIME.
🩷 Finds it really hot to be able to watch herself so sometimes she’ll set up in front of her floor-length mirror. Not as good as it is with a partner, but it’s got a similar draw.
🩷 Really quiet when she cums, her cheeks flushed and a gasp stuck in her chest while her body seizes with pleasure.
🩷 Might go a couple more times depending on how hot and bothered she is.
Abigail-
🖤 Abby has the least privacy out of the bachelorettes.
🖤 Her situation isn’t horrible (read: better than Sam’s), but she’s always got low-grade anxiety that she’s going to be caught and absolutely mortified.
🖤 Never home alone either, but Stardew girls make do. Waits up until midnight or later and makes sure to be radio silent just in case her dad is roaming around.
🖤 Once she gets into it though…she gets into it.
🖤 Little miss visual aid over here be Watching porn. She almost can’t get off without it. She CAN but she doesn’t want to. Which is so real of her.
🖤 LOVES videos of people getting themselves off. Solo masturbation videos are so hot to her because it feels like a steamy mutual session when she touches herself.
🖤 Totally ends up imagining past experiences or current crushes taking up the same as the person in the video. Pleasuring themselves while she watches and watching her get off too…she’s practically gone.
🖤 Sometimes she likes to watch really hardcore, desperate railing if she’s feeling particularly needy or submissive. Every now and again she just wants to be told she’s hot, get spanked, and fucked within an inch of her life. Girl me too the fuck—
🖤 Gets off pretty fast and once just because of the anxiety thing. If she had more peace of mind it would be a marathon for her because with the adventure training she’s got stamina for days.
🖤 Still sleeps way better after and ends up having some very, very pleasant dreams with all of that imagination fuel.
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namazunomegami · 6 months
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emperor!sukuna x imperial concubine!reader
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a/n: part 2 of my self-indulging mess. I had a lot of fun writing him and his drabble got finished way before I developed the whole plotline for Geto lol. I'll try to complete Gojo today or tomorrow and Toji is in the works yaaay!!
Also, I'm so surprised my Geto drabble got so many notes in such a short time!! I wouldn't expected people to be remotely interested in my writing but now I'm getting confident.
And finally, I can guarantee that this reader is gender neutral.
Likes and reblogs are appreciated <33
wc: 674, I know, I know, Geto got the princess treatment from me but sometimes less is more <333
cw: historical AU, scheming, mentions of pregnancy, mentions of sudden infant death syndrome, betrayal, accusations of abortion, execution, nudity, mentions of poisoning, suggestive
credits: i used a colored manga panel instead of a fanart but I have no idea who did the coloring so feel free to help me credit their work. And again, my precious @notveryrussian did the proofread, luv ya mwah <33
MDNI PLEASE! I'm gonna find you and kick you in the butt if you do. If you’re not comfortable with dark content or anything mentioned in the warnings just scroll, there's nothing wrong with that.
His mandate of heaven is very different from Gojo and Geto. Sukuna is a ruthless tyrant, he enjoys crushing any nation he deems either threatening or undeserving to even exist next to his borders. His palace is a snake pit, full of betrayal and backstabbing. Executions are frequent and he needs no valid reason to sentence someone to death, he enjoys the bloodshed and the sight of lifeless bodies. You can’t survive that place acting kind and humble. Sukuna specifically torments his concubines physically and mentally for the sheer enjoyment of it.
His court is probably the most competitive. You need to be as ruthless as he is, you need to become a schemer. One of his high-ranking consorts takes you under her wing. She lets you spend leisure time with her, and somehow, she ends up telling you way more sensitive information than she should. She once managed to give him a child, but the infant sadly died days after they were born. She complained about how hard that pregnancy was and that she’s afraid of going through it again, even though she’s attached to him. And not long after this conversation, she fell ill. Retching out everything she ate, her stomach burned and ached. She was so weak her cycle was two weeks late. She trusted you enough to have you fetch her a specific herbal tea to ease her pain and grant her some dreamless sleep.
And that’s the moment you decide you’ll use everything you know about her to cast her down and take her place.
You accuse her that she’s pregnant but wants to abort her baby. Your story is so intricately constructed from all the details you knew that his officials are on your side without hesitation. She watches you horrified, desperately telling him that nothing could be so far from the truth. Sukuna decides to believe in your words and orders for the consort to be executed. Finding pure joy in how she wails and begs for forgiveness. At the execution, he studies your face, every little detail and reaction and you were aware of that. It’s time to impress him. Your face is still, you don’t even flinch when her head is severed by the neck. The eunuchs come for you at night.
He loves and loathes this tradition at the same time. The servants want to protect him, so they deliver you stark naked to ensure you won’t carry any weapons. Fools, as if a weak and trembling creature like you could ever hurt him with a mere dagger or a sharpened hairpin. Yet it makes you look like an offering. A sacrificial lamb. Maybe because you are.
Some primal instinct tells you to balance your inner strength and innate fear of him. Pull back your shoulders, straighten your back, don’t even think to conceal your private parts. Let your fingers quiver and the sheer dread in your eyes seep through. He mocks you. Almost laughs at you while sitting comfortably on the intricately carved shelf bed, wearing a loose bright yellow robe, leaving almost nothing to the imagination. There’s no reason for him to not do this though, he’s a god, the son of heaven, therefore, everything about him is perfect.
The first thing he asks you is if you’re satisfied with your pathetic attempt to improve your position. You don’t dare to tell him that you feel the guilt rotting your insides. He confesses that he was poisoning her meals, he wanted to watch her wither away slowly and enjoy her suffering, but you ruined his plans. He might spare you, you’re a stupid little thing, you couldn’t have known. He warns you that you need to do so much more if you want to be on his good side. You need to be absolutely despicable to earn his praise. Though you feel content having reached your goal and getting to spend a night with him, somewhere deep down you hope you can leave his chamber in one piece or, at least, alive.
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luffyvace · 2 months
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HIHIHIHI TYSM FOR DOING MY REQUEST ^U^ I hope u Don't mind me dropping another one u :'))
Can I have kusuo reaction to Reader-chan being mostly know for her gore/angst/horror series but looks like nothing for a person to write this stuff (she looks absolutely innocent) yet having a (technically an old man) friend who is also anonymous writer for one of kusuo favorite series yet the said look absolutely opposite of it (the reader-chan and her friend are like Junji Ito and hayao miyazaki)
I'm sorry if u couldn't understand the request:')) my English isn't really the best-
HII DARLING! No problem at all! Of course I don’t mind! Request at any time as long as they say open <3
ohhh so she’s a horror writer :> OHHH I was confused at first but as soon as I searched them up and saw the memes I understood 😂💓
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This is such a cute and funny topic! Enjoy your hcs anon 💖 ⚠️ Gore mentions⚠️
Kusuo isn’t easily scared.
there are very few things that actually do scare him, considering he can sense everything coming from a mile away
But shows and books are an exception (given he doesn’t stare at the pages to see through the book-)
he’s not normally into horror but your manga is actually very interesting to him!
seeing a bunch of mutilated corpses packed together is quite a gripping sight for him!
and honestly he is obbsessed likes normalcy but your case is a type of unique he doesn’t mind :)
it’s funny since you have this friendly and kind personality and your work is the exact opposite of that 🤗
it’s giving the cute core girlies!! (and guys!! <3) 💓💗💖🌸🌷💞🎀
he still gets the perk of reading the chapter before publish and giving small ideas for stuff
You once put his favorite character from another series in one of the manga panels and he when he noticed it he had a little smile on his face! 💗
he wasn’t excpecting you to do that at all and it was a pleasant surprise ;3
your introduced him to your friend and he also likes his work now!
Y’all are literal polar opposites- and ngl? He enjoys the balance!
like when he wants some exhilarating and goosebump-giving action he’ll pick up one of your mangas’
and when he’s feeling mellow while eating some coffee jelly on his bed his new (second) favorite author to read from is your friend!
His number one author is of course you ♥︎
would recommend his friends (specifically Kaido) one of your mangas to freak them out
they definitely won’t be expecting it seeing as though your such a cheerful person! 🌸🎀🌷
I feel like Torisuka would genuinely enjoy your manga as well!
he doesn’t get scared easily by creepy stuff for obvious reasons 😋
so you’ve got yourself another supporter !!
I have a feeling my girl boss Airua would get creeped out but 1) she wants to support you so she would probably buy and either never read or 2) read it anyway because it’s so interesting
like you captivated people with your work!
just as much as your friend does with more gentler topics
but in a different sense
You make your audience quite literally cover their eyes in fear yet still peak through they’re fingers with anticipation !
like that’s how good it is!
a “I can’t look away” type of thriller!
also you know that really talkative guy with the bob?
yeah he over analyzes your manga once he finds out about it
(which let me tell you- Kusuo tried his hardest to keep him away from it—but much to his luck- he got a hold of it anyway)
thankfully he likes it!
he’s scared- but once again- he just can’t look away :)
he comes to you and gives your extremely detailed compliments and (positive) feedback after each chapter is released and says he can’t wait for more
he also tells his expectations and predictions for the next one and hopes you’ll live up to them
so when your exceed them he’s more than thrilled (GET IT?? Ok..)
he’s practically able to predict every book or manga he reads because he analyzes everything
so when your able to surprise him he’s impressed!
after Kusuo he’s the first one to buy a copy
(cuz yk Kusuo gets those special you-get-the-first-copy-before-it’s-published-because-your-my-boyfriend-privileges)
LOL
the bob guy is low key jealous of him for getting it before it’s even PUBLISHED
tries to bargain you to get that too but it’s strictly reserved for Kuu ♡
okay I looked up bob guy’s name
it’s Akechi Touma (oops)
LOL “bob guy”
enjoy!! Pretty short but I think they’re a delight~
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thearcanawearcrocs · 5 months
Text
As a poly person myself I find the potential dynamics of an mc who is dating two or more of the main 6 fascinating so I’ve decided to rank them. For simplicity’s sake I’ve decided to only do the dynamic of an mc dating two of the main 6 for now but I’m happy to make more later if people are interested
Asra and Nadia
Interesting but I see them more as friends
I think they would both be eager to provide mc with anything they could possibly want
Nadia clearly values Asra’s opinion and they have a mutual respect and friendship
I think they could pretty easily share mc
4/10
Asra and Julian
These two have a lot of history together
I think it would be fascinating to watch them rekindle their old relationship but this time with more healthy and open communication and under better circumstances
Julian and Asra bonding as two people who have given everything to keep you alive/bring you back
Overall I really enjoy this one
Lots of potential for angst
9/10
Asra and Muriel
Childhood besties who only have each other for so long and now they are both dating the same person? Absolutely
I love the idea of mc dating both of them
It makes a lot of sense for them to become a triad
I think it would be a very positive experience for everyone involved
10/10
Asra and Portia
This would be fun but I personally don’t see a lot of romance coming with it
Asra and Portia would be adventure buddies and drag mc across the earth to show them the world
I think Faust and Pepi would get along
3/10
Asra and Lucio
Now this is fascinating to me
These two do not like each other at all in canon and have had almost no positive interactions
However I find the idea of them strangely compelling
I think it a world where mc chose Lucio it would be neat to watch Asra struggle to put aside his own feelings about Lucio to keep his apprentice close
It would get messy but honestly that’s part of what makes it interesting
7/10
Nadia and Julian
Another one that I think would come fairly easily
Nadia and Julian have chemistry in canon and I don’t think either one of them would object to mc also being in the mix
As countess Nadia can afford to take care of two partners
5/10
Nadia and Muriel
This one’s cute
Nadia who lives to shower her loved ones in gifts and luxury vs Muriel who struggles to believe he deserves basic comfort
You can’t tell me Nadia wouldn’t love to slip away into the woods from time to time to get away from the stress of her work
Also Nadia proving herself to be nothing like Lucio as a leader and taking steps to correct the issues in the city that hurt Muriel most
9/10
Nadia and Portia
I mean yeah absolutely
The two of them already fall in love in routes where mc doesn’t choose either of them so why wouldn’t they also fall in love in a route where mc did?
The trust and affection they already have for one another would be a pretty solid foundation to add mc to
10/10
Nadia and Lucio
I mean they were once married
Nadia would hold Lucio to his word and encourage his efforts to make amends for what he’s done wrong
I think she is one of the main 6 who would be able to forgive him fully with enough time and if she saw him putting in real effort
I also love the idea of her knowing Lucio the way he was before dying and being able to truly see and appreciate the difference
Lucio seems to harbor no real ill will towards Nadia either and I think they could make peace with one another
7/10
Julian and Muriel
The loudest most dramatic man you know breaks down the door of the most introverted quiet guy in existence
This can only end well
I think that they honestly would end up getting along but it would take a while
They would balance each other out in some respects
I think they would also eventually bond over trauma. They both lost their families at a young age, were both hurt by Lucio and have permanent physical marks of that trauma, and both struggle to see themselves as worthy of good things
If they don’t kill each other in the first month I think they could be great together
8/10
Julian and Portia
I mean they’re siblings so
I guess mc could just be dating both separately but that still feels weird to me
0/10
Julian and Lucio
I love these two together a lot
Julian “I only consider others and never myself” devorak meets Lucio “I only consider myself and not others” morgasson
It would be so incredibly messy
They will absolutely hurt one another but I think they may also help one another grow a great deal
They are both very dramatic and passionate and would play off one another well
10/10
Muriel and Portia
This is cute
I think Portia would be incredibly understanding
Her constant optimism and belief in those around her would be very good for Muriel I think
Also they are both animal lovers which is important
7/10
Muriel and Lucio
Oh god no
I don’t think Muriel ever could (or really ever should) forgive Lucio for what he’s done to him
I love Lucio but what he did to Muriel is beyond fucked and I truly could not see the two of them ever being able to be so much a friends
Could be an interesting dynamic to play with in a dark fic though
1/10
Portia and Lucio
Lucio would be like her silly little guy
I think Portia would be fine with having him around
Lucio would think she was a lot of fun
Portia is the character who was hurt by lucio the least and so I believe she would be one of the first to be able to forgive him
6/10
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poemnic-tarot · 1 year
Text
Channeled Message from Your Soulmate’s Higher Self
(Disclaimer : This is a general reading please only take what resonate. For entertainment purposes only)
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🧚🏻‍♀️ 💕 🍀 🌷 🌸 You are Loved 🌸 🌷 🍀 💕 🧚🏻‍♀️
Pile 1🌠 “Twin flames”
“I want to acknowledge your mastery of your own emotions. I love that you’ve learned not to control or shame your emotion but accept them for what they are. Your inner strength really shine through and it wasn’t easy so I want to congratulate you on that hard earned achievement, my love. Now your emotion can’t hold you back anymore from taking action. They do not dictate what you can or cannot do because frankly, there is nothing you can’t achieve in this world. You can basically manifest anything.
You are very intuitive and even psychic when we first met and I noticed that about you. I was surprised by how much you were able to pick up on. My feeling particularly because I was not that expressive. You’ve showed me how to balance between true inspired action and just doing things for the sake of doing it. It was hard for me to give something up or abandoned things I’ve started, even when I know it was passed due to do so. Leaving things,letting go of attachment is hard for me. I am the type to keep on reading a book or watching a movie till the end even when I am dead bored of them. There’s no reason for me to continue but there wasn’t a reason for me to leave either. So I’m stuck I guess, I’m very good at getting myself stuck, in the middle, hanging in- between staying or going. But you told me you found that endearing for some reason and gently took my hand and guide me out of my self- imposed prison. You have helped me heal my wound of abandonment, maybe that’s why it was hard to say goodbye to things and leave them, even though they do not serve me anymore.
I admire your sense of adventure, you are the most expressive person I’ve ever met. Even if you don’t know that about yourself. I feel quite a strong kinship with you, like this is not our first rodeo on this earth. Perhaps, we often have more adventures in our dreams, I know I do dreamt of you quite often. I just want to let you know that I love you, I love who are and who you were and who you are trying to become. Every versions of you amazed me cause your true strength alway shines through every time and I will alway recognised your bright essence anywhere.”
Love,
Your Soul Family
Signs: Rose, Lion/big cats, 111, Infinity, Pine trees,Crescent Moon
Love Quotes: "In the end, we all just want someone that chooses us over everyone else under any circumstances."
Song: I See the Light from Tangle
“….And at last I see the light
And it’s like the fog has lifted
And at last I see the light
And it’s like the sky is new
And it’s warm and real and bright
And the world has somehow shifted
All at once everything looks different
Now that I see you
Love Poem verse : Twin flames by @cant-find-my-name
…I recognised negative traits needed
To be discard,
When we met, I think I’ve found myself
The missing piece, part of my soul
Ah, you’re my Twin flames
When I met you I know
We’re one and the same
🧚🏻‍♀️ 💕 🍀 🌷 🌸 You are Loved 🌸 🌷 🍀 💕 🧚🏻‍♀️
Pile 2🍄 If Magic Was Real
"I hope you are taking time to fully sit in your emotions and grieve. It is okay to express your emotion, in fact, it is crucial if you need to cry or break down or just lose it emotionally. Give yourself that permission to do so. You might think that it's strong of you to keep it together for the sake of others or yourself. That it is so mature of you to do so but darling, there need to be a balance. You need to heal but you won't be able to heal if you won't let yourself feel all of your sadness. If you need to cry, cry it out I will be here with you. You are not alone in your sorrows. I would like to give this song to you, maybe it would help "Chiquitita by Cher". It seem you have broken a feather but don't worry, we will try to patch it up together.
I want to tell you that a renewal is coming to you. It was a hard chapter that you just experienced and I hate seeing you pretending to be fine. But your sad eyes is not fooling anyone. It is okay to be sad,to be angry, to let it all out ( in a healthy way not in a self destructive way please). I admired you for holding it together for this long, but more than anything, I want you to let go. Be vulnerable with yourself, I think that is the most beautiful thing. Witness the spectrum of human emotions, it is beautiful. It is time to rest in your nest for awhile until you’re able to fly again. Take all the time that you need, grieve all that there is, broken relationships, friendships, nostalgia. Whatever it is, I am alway there. Listen to music because I love sending you messages through these songs, it has really helped me through my hard time. So I’m hoping music could be a little comfort to you at this time. Take some time for yourself love, cause you definitely need it. Trust me that the sun will rise once more, and all that happened will just been a hard learned lesson and you’ve definitely learn a lot from it.
I know that the real you is not a sad person. You are the most vibrant, radiant, happiest soul I know. And sadness doesn’t suit you one bit, as well as pretending to be happy. You shine best when you are true to your feeling. Winter is over and I cannot wait to welcome you back into the season of spring.”
Love,
Your Soulmate
Signs: Black feathers, birds, 55, Tears drop
Love Quote : “He’s more myself than I am. Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same.”
Song : Chiquitita by Cher
Chiquitita, tell me the truth
I’m a shoulder you can cry on
Your best friend, I’m the one you must rely on
You were alway sure of yourself
Now, I see you’ve broken a feather
I hope we can patch it up together
Love Poem verse: If Magic Was Real by @cant-find-my-name
.. The world seem kind
When you’re around
To believe again
Is easy
When you’re with me
If Magic is real
It is where you’ll be
🧚🏻‍♀️ 💕 🍀 🌷 🌸 You are Loved 🌸 🌷 🍀 💕 🧚🏻‍♀️
Pile 3🫧 I’ll Never Forget
“You’re working so hard and so am I. We’re trying to do our own work, slowly building strong foundation for the future. Maybe out of fears than anything. This anxiety to keep on going, to do better and better, to improve, constantly striving for a better future. I get it, I feel it too, however, if we keep on going like this eventually our life forces will run out. And physically we can become ill and I really don’t want that for you. So I’m here to let you know that you can slow down, what you feared will not come true. Your deep, dark fears will not come alive. If you think you can’t stop because you think that the fears you feel will transpire. No, it will not, you’ve work hard enough. Outwardly and internally, I’ve watched you tried and tried and alway striving to do better. To be better, but honey, you are already enough for me. You alway will be, regardless of what you did or what you didn’t do or what you will do. I will alway believe that your existence alone is enough for me. To sooth my soul, to lift my spirit up. You don’t have to do anything for me, I am happy just to be with you, to exist with you, to be by your side and bath in your lovely presence
I know you have struggled from a lack mentality, I don’t know if you notice that about yourself. And that is nothing to be ashamed of , I‘m struggling with it too. I understand how you feel, no matter how much you have or how much you do, you just feel it’s never enough. True abundance come from the inside. And you are already enough with the proof that your heart beats for you, the blood flowing in your vein is proof that we meant to exist here as we are. No more, no less.
Please rest assured love, and take a break once in a while. Do something that’s not related to work. I want you to practice winding down, practice letting go and relaxing. No one ever teach us how to truly relax and it is a skill, it doesn’t come naturally to us and we can help each other relax. We can practice together, practice just existing without shame or guilt, or a pit in our stomach that things will go wrong if you don’t do anything. I want you to learned to have fun because when we’re together, it’ll become a skill that will help our relationship a lot. I want to have fun together with you and for you to tell me all about your adventures, your travels and your crazy journey. I can’t wait to just sit down and be with you. Take a vacation with you and have the time of our lives. You are my vacation home.”
Love from,
Your Honey bear
Signs : 88, Roses, Games, Festival, Spider, Designer brand
Love Quote : “I know from that first moment we met. It was not love at first sight exactly but familiarity. Like ‘oh hello’, it’s you. It’s going to be you.”
Song : Voyage by Kep1er
“The sound of waves surging in
Far beyond the horizon
Between the clouds, we going high
Follow me in my way
When the gentle breeze blows
Close your eyes and feel it
We arrived to an unfamiliar island
slowly open your eyes
Love Poem verse: I’ll Never Forget by @cant-find-my-name
Loneliness is a disease
But I think you’ve just cure me,
You make me so happy
I don’t recognise myself,
You warmed my hand
Around your coffee mug
And asked if I’m alright
Your voice sounded worried
And there’s concern sincerity’s in
Your eyes.
🧚🏻‍♀️ 💕 🍀 🌷 🌸 You are Loved 🌸 🌷 🍀 💕 🧚🏻‍♀️
Pile 4🌙Each Night
“Good evening, I hope to meet you again in our dream. I know you dreamed of me and questioned it. Believe in yourself my little star. Your dream is not lying to you. It is alright to hope, to wish, to believe in the impossible. Please don’t think that it’s ridiculous or childish to believe in true love, in soulmate and fairy tales. Because you’re not wrong to hope. Your soulmate exist and you know that but your fears trying to convince you otherwise. I am your soulmate and my message to you is to believe in me. I want to validate your feeling, your extraordinary senses. Your wish in that little star?, I heard it, the universe heard it too and we listen. To all of your wishes and it was not ridiculous of you to wish for love, true love. It is not unrealistic, or rose colour glasses. It is just something that you know you deserve and want to feel. We do not shame or guilt ourself for asking for more love.
I am alway with you, in your dream, in your waking life, in our past lives. That is why you can feel my presence so strongly. It is not just from your imagination. I want to assured you that, it is real. I am as real as the bark of a tree. I can feel you too but truthfully, my 3D self is not as intuitive as you. I tend to brush things off when they don’t make sense, so please don’t be like me.Things doesn’t need to make sense now,it will eventually come together. Unfolding naturally, beautifully. I know you see my signs everywhere and is questioning reality. You are not going mad, just a head up from me. We will meet soon, in a way that you won’t believe. I won’t either but we both know that we wish for this desperately. Earth has been achingly lonely for me. And knowing you exist have helped alleviate the ache a bit. I want you to take your time with life, don’t rush cause when we come together, we can continue this journey together in an even pace,step by step.
Love,
Yours
Signs : North Star, Dove, Diamond shape, Cocoon of a butterfly, 8910, 2020
Love Quotes: “He loves you very much” she said, but more than that, he cares for you. Sometimes love is not as important as truly caring for the other person.
Song : Surefire by John Legend
“Let me breath you in ‘till gravity bends
And we fall through the hole in the light
Make this our kingdom
Somewhere where good love conquers and not
Divides”
Love Poem verse : Each Night by @cant-find-my-name
Oh distance shore
I beg of you
Please no more,
Please don’t keep us apart
I can’t take it
This is destroying my heart,
We are one and it’s time to be
Together again
Next to each other
Hand in Hand
Feel you touch my skin
Smell your scent
I breathe you in………
🧚🏻‍♀️ 💕 🍀 🌷 🌸 You are Loved 🌸 🌷 🍀 💕 🧚🏻‍♀️
Thank you so much for reading!. If this resonate please leave a tip if you like. See you soon!
Check out more of my original poems at @cant-find-my-name .
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neophele · 1 year
Text
How They Comfort You When You're Anxious – NCT Dream Headcanon
This is absolute self-indulgence at this point. I need a Mark in my life I hope any other anxious and sensitive dreamzens out there are having a good night ;-; <3 Words: ~1k Genre: Fluff, comfort, headcanon Warnings: mentions of anxiety, nothing too specific though c:
Mark
Absolute sweetheart… would not let his arm leave your side as soon as he noticed you feeling bad, and would be whispering comforting words in your ear for the next several hours, even after you finally felt okay again. He’d hate seeing you feeling bad, but all of the comfort wrapped in a person called Mark would be there for you, no matter what the problem—simply holding you, softly easing you down from that knife’s edge of nerves with his gentle words and sweet-tempered touches. And he has the best words, somehow, no matter the situation. Even if he’s rambling complete nonsense, it makes perfect sense in contrast to your spiralling thoughts, countering any and every fearful tangent your brain tries to take you down. The perfect man. I think he’d just be the biggest sweetheart and look after an anxious partner so patiently. 
Renjun
Incredibly practical about it! Brings you water and your favourite snacks, and rubs your back with soothing little circles to ease the tension in your body. If you’re out in public, he’ll hold your hand and let you squeeze his as much as you need, thumb tracing comforting patterns on your hand to try and focus you on something else. In private, however, he’d be much more hands-on – very literally. He would hold you, either sitting across from you and clasping both your hands in his or hugging you from behind and wrapping his arms around your waist, focusing your breathing and slowly counting the seconds until your lungs evened out. Tethers you back to the physical sensations of reality to draw you from those dark thoughts, and when you’re finally feeling a little bit better, absolutely insists you eat your favourite food or at least some kind of warm drink to bring back the internal balance you need at that moment. 
Jeno
He might be a little bit slow to pick up on your feelings at first, not realising your reticence is coming from anxiety rather than the usually quiet, loving moments you fall so easily into. Once he does pick up on it and overcomes that moment of oh my god, what do I do, however, he holds you and reassures you that absolutely nothing can get to you whilst he is there. Tells you he’s strong enough to fight away any of those fearful thoughts you have and gives you the biggest smiles with his crescent eyes, such a contrast to the muscular body hidden away under his jumper. Speaking of jumpers, he’d wrap you up in one of his, finding the biggest, cosiest clothes that smelt perfectly of him and tugging you into bed so you could lie on his chest and listen to his heart’s rhythm keeping you in time with reality until you can’t help but fall asleep in his arms. 
Haechan
Somehow, Haechan would be the perfect balance of comforting and entertaining. He’d say anything and everything to distract you, doing anything to make you laugh and just pull you out of that deep well of anxiety. Hugs you and strokes your hair, kissing every open patch of skin he can find. As soon as you're able to voice your fears, he listens, denying any anxious thought that ever crossed your mind and reminding you how perfect you are. It might come across a little patronising, but only because he wants to show how completely unfounded your fears are. A huge believer in comfort food, ordering your favourite take out or a sweet dessert and sitting you between his legs whilst watching something light-hearted, spoon-feeding you with silly noises and playful commentary on your chosen entertainment. 
Jaemin 
Looks at you with those big eyes and wants to hear every worry on your mind. He’d never tell you that your thoughts were silly or unfounded, no matter the anxiety. Would simply listen until the root of your problems were unearthed and rationalise in a perfectly unpredictable Jaemin way how you needn’t fear anything. He’d want you to be able to cope on your own and would absolutely try and instil secure thoughts in your mind, especially when you weren’t anxious – so in the darkest moments, even if he weren’t there, you would be able to find strength within yourself. Other than that, he would want you to feel physically comfortable, so he would suggest a warm shower or bath where he washes your hair and massages you gently, followed by wrapping you up in a soft blanket and feeding you little nibbles of something sweet, all the while keeping those round eyes of his perfectly in line with yours. 
Chenle
Chenle would have the instinct to listen and deny any anxious thoughts you had, though would also realise that somehow these things can’t be rationalised away. He would want to cook you something comforting and warm, homemade and full of love. Would also offer to buy you anything he could to make you smile. A little ring to twist on your finger to dispel some anxious energy? Yours. A soft toy to hold while you curl up in a ball? Yours. A way-too-big jumper to hide away in when the world is too much? Yours. Sings you a little song or plays something gentle on a piano (even if it’s just an app on his phone) to quieten down the sirens in your head. Wants to ease you through the anxious moments as smoothly as possible, knowing that they’re bound to come up at some point, but also knowing that means they will leave as well. 
Jisung
At first, he’d have no idea what to do. Seeing you anxious and scared would just send him into a momentary meltdown, much like Jeno, but in an instant, he’d be hugging you, keeping you close to him and gently stroking your head as if to smooth out those little blips in your brain. He asks you what you want or need, and if you can’t answer, brings you a favourite hoodie of his and some of your favourite snacks, all ready to put your favourite comforting show or music on so you can hold him whilst distracting yourself from whatever’s chasing you at that moment. Despite all the effort into finding your most comforting favourites, he gets distracted by continuing to speak whatever words come to his mind, anything that could possibly ease your soul and make you feel more at home in your trembling body. It works, too, whatever he says punctuated with soothing strokes against your head, pulling you back to the reality that is the loving embrace of Jisung. 
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withlovewriting · 2 months
Text
All I Ever Knew, Only You 12: The Return
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Chapter Twelve.
Now I see you, trouble, it's coming up ahead, Black dogs running through the fields, They're dripping red, The world is quiet and there's nothing left unsaid, A million image, million capture, million dead.
Summary: Hawkins was your typical quaint, mid-western town where nothing ever happened. People were born here, lived their entire lives within the town limits, and eventually died here, peacefully in their sleep. But one cold November evening in 1983 would change everything.
Despite a child with psychokinetic abilities and ravenous monsters that lacked faces, stranger things had definitely happened in the small town in Indiana. One of them being your reluctant and slightly imposed friendship with Hawkins High’s own King Bee, Steve Harrington.
Characters: Steve Harrington x Non-descriptive F!Reader (eventual)
Words: 5,028
Chapter Warnings: Explicit language, mentions of death (incl. murder oopsie daisy), bonding, Dustin is my whole heart, but also a little a-hole sometimes.
Series Warnings: Strong language, mentions of underage drinking, mentions of drug use, canon-typical violence, mentions of alcohol abuse, mentions of possible mental health disorders, child abuse, slow burn, kinda enemies-to-friends-to-lovers, I like to call it ‘two idiots who begrudgingly befriend each other only to realize… ‘wait a damn minute…’, eventual sexual content, no use of y/n, canon-typical time-period bullshit. 18+. Minors DNI.
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Chapter Twelve: The Return
Watching as Mike was held back by some kind of invisible force, shouting and pleading to be let past, Hopper’s concerned brow as the pieces of whatever puzzle he was trying to solve finally fit together in his brain, their voices were drowned out by a continuous banging sound.
Slowly turning, Eleven’s breath caught in her throat when she saw you, your body trying in vain to keep something closed, to keep something out. And one ferocious, shrill growl told her exactly what it was that was after you.
The growl echoed in the back of El’s head as she realized it wasn’t just one. She could hear the grunts and shallow breathing of the others, but your body pining something closed was all she could concentrate on. The fear and horror in your eyes, the banging shoving you forward, little by little, as you quietly prayed to not lose your balance, your sneakers slowly sliding across the floor.
You were all going to die.
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“They’re going somewhere.”
Steve’s voice was the only sound that hadn't been drowned out by the blood rushing around in your ears. The monsters had run into the woods, and El had been missing for God knows how long. You prayed she’d found Mike and was safe with him, even if it meant she had broken her promise to Hopper, but a heavy, sickening feeling in your gut told you she wasn’t. And if El was still missing, traipsing around the woods, then there was a good chance those monsters would find her, and although you knew Eleven could stand her ground against one of them, you didn’t want to think about what a group — albeit, smaller — could do.
Especially if she didn’t know they were coming.
“Your stupid pet could’ve eaten us!” Lucas yelled, his eyebrows furrowed together at Dustin’s sheer stupidity at keeping a damn Demogorgon that had eaten his cat.
Storming back over, you pushed between the two, “Hey, assholes. I don’t care who broke your loser code first, alright? And I don’t give a shit about Dustin’s cat, either. But unless you wanna end up like Mews, I suggest we leave. So if you can’t argue and walk at the same time then just shut up and let's go.”
“We should’ve waited in the bus like I said. Waited until someone came through on the radio-”
“And if nobody answers? If those things come back? We’re dead.”
“Steve has the-”
“Dead, Dustin. We’re lucky we got out of there once, I don’t wanna take my chances again.”
“You protected us last time!” Dustin’s voice cracked a little at the end, but the desperation in his voice was enough to stop anyone from mentioning it.
Your eyebrow cocked, but your mouth settled into a thin line, part of you daring the boy to say the words while the other part of you wanted to shove his hat in his mouth, knowing exactly what he meant.
“Last time? What happened last time?” Max questioned, a frown still painted on her face from Dustin’s previous insult.
“Last time we were on the bus... That’s why you didn’t wanna stay there, right? Because of what you did to that man-”
“-Dustin,” Lucas warned, his large eyes darting between you and his friend,
“Maybe we should-”
Steve was cut off by the curly-haired boy who couldn’t seem to keep his mouth shut, “What you did-”
“What I did isn’t important right now,” you painfully swallowed the lump that had formed in your throat, “We need to get out of these woods and… Harrington? What the hell are you doing?”
“Dude, that was not cool,” you heard Lucas whisper to Dustin as the boy stuttered, trying to explain himself.
But you were too concerned with Steve, and the fact he was now staring off into the woods, clearly straining his ears in an attempt to hear… screeching?
The boys continued to bicker until Steve finally shouted for their attention, his flashlight pointing off into the woods. Everyone remained silent for a moment, and Steve’s gaze turned toward you as if asking for permission to continue.
Squeezing your eyes closed for a moment, you exhaled deeply and sent the boy a short nod before following after him.
“Guys… Why are you headed towards the sound? Hello? Shit…" Max grumbled, finally following after the two younger teens who had begun to rush behind you and Steve.
The noise led you out to a large opening upon a hill, looking over a large majority of the town.
A town full of people who were completely unaware of what had been released into Hawkins. Again.
Lifting his binoculars, Lucas looked around the open space, over the treetops of the surrounding area. Nothing in sight but… “It’s the lab. They were going back home.”
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Steve’s body felt warm as it hovered next to yours, and you felt your brow pull down slightly because, of course, he’d be able to keep himself warm on a cool evening like this. Huffing out in annoyance, you rubbed your arms over your denim jacket, trying to preserve as much of your body heat as possible.
The walk down through the rest of the woods had been easier than anticipated, most likely due to the fact you were heading downhill for a large majority of your travels. And now you knew that a Demogorgon wasn’t going to pop out from behind a bush, you felt a little safer. But still, your pace remained hurried, head-turning every few seconds to check and re-check that the kids were still following along behind.
At the end of the woods, you heard a familiar voice that you really weren’t expecting. Nancy and Jonathan stood not far from the latter’s car, calling out as you all emerged through the tree line. Your eyes darted down toward where Jonathan's grip was protectively clinging to Nancy's sleeve, before he quickly dropped it, realizing she was safe as they made their way toward your group,
“What are you doing here?”
“What are you doing here?”
“We’re looking for Mike and Will,” Nancy clarified, confusion etched on her face.
“They’re not in there, are they?” You asked, head nodding toward the large, grey building.
Jonathan’s brow furrowed slightly, realizing you knew something he didn't, “Why?"
The screeching reverberated around you, carried by the chilly November air, causing everyone to turn their attention to the building, a few windows lighting up from flashing lights.
Just like how the Christmas lights had flickered around Joyce's house last year before the whole building suddenly lit up.
“The power’s back,” Nancy said before you all made your way toward the entrance gate. Jonathan sat inside the control box, tapping a button in vain, but the gate remained closed. Bickering with Dustin for a moment, the older boy finally allowed Dustin to bash it, and the gate slowly creaked open.
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You stayed back with the kids and Steve, Nancy explaining that there simply wouldn’t be enough room for everyone in the car if they did manage to find their families. So instead, you ungracefully threw yourself down on the curb and ran a hand over your face.
You felt exhausted. Physically and emotionally drained and somehow, this night felt far from over.
“Are you okay?” Dustin settled on the grass next to you, his sneaker scuffing yours slightly.
Taking in a deep breath, you looked up toward the star-filled sky and nodded, “Yeah. I’m good, Henderson.”
The boy was silent for a moment, trying to pick his next words carefully, “What I said earlier, you know? About last year…”
Your jaw clenched as you turned your attention to the grass next to you, plucking a few strands.
Max and Lucas stood only a few feet away in the road, and you could tell that they — along with Steve, who stood even closer — were listening, only Lucas being aware of the impact of Dustin’s words.
“I’m sorry if it upset you. Brought up some bad memories. I just-”
“It’s fine, Henderson-”
“-I just think it was totally badass of you, you know?” The boy refused to let you cut him off, his eyes boring into the side of your face as you cautiously turned toward him, “That guy… El said he was bad. He would’ve killed us in that bus… Probably would’ve dragged El back here, and nobody would’ve been able to stop the Demogorgon last year.”
When you remained quiet, despite your slightly softened expression, Dustin continued, “Will would’ve never been found, Joyce would’ve probably been sent to Pennhurst, and we’d all be dead. I know it probably felt really shitty, but you killed him to save us.”
Your eyes returned to your shoes, eyebrows pulled together as you tried to breathe around the large lump that had clawed its way up your throat.
It wasn’t like you hadn’t had this exact conversation with Hopper already, the man explaining that what you had done was brave and heroic and a bunch of words that made your skin crawl.
You had killed a man, without any hesitation. And if Jim hadn’t caught that metal pipe, you’d have probably accidentally killed him too. The thought still choked you, even a year later.
“He’s right,” Lucas spoke quietly, “It was all he would talk about for a solid week. Will had come back from the dead, El had superpowers, but all he could talk about was how cool you were.”
“Yeah, alright. We get it, Lucas.” Dustin scoffed, standing up as his cheeks reddened, obvious even under the dark sky. The boy placed his cold hands into the pockets of his hoodie and looked at you one last time, “Like I said… Badass. So uh, on behalf of us all... Thanks.”
The silence between the group felt like it stretched on forever, and you could feel Steve’s gaze on you, even after he took Dustin’s seat on the curb. His shoulder bumped yours a few times on accident as he fiddled with the bottom of his jeans, pulling at a loose thread.
Thankfully the screech of tires stopped whatever conversation he was gearing up for, and caused you all to stand and rush toward the gate.
Jonathan’s Ford came barreling down from the lab, horn blaring as if he didn’t already have your attention, causing the five of you to rush out of the middle of the road, his car not stopping as it passed by.
Hopper, however, slammed on the brakes of his Chevvy before it could pass you, “Come on, get in.”
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Your group poured into the Byers’ home, eyes wide and suspicious as you all peered at the unusual drawings strung up along the walls, everyone feeling a little too uncomfortable to ask Joyce what had happened as she made her way into the back of her house alone.
Will was resting on the sofa, still unconscious as Jonathan pushed back the fallen hair from his face, softly reassuring the boy and apologizing for his absence, Nancy stood behind him with a gentle hand of her own placed on his shoulder, squeezing every so often.
When Steve turned away from the two, pinching the bottom of his nostrils, you sent him an apologetic glance, and despite knowing next to nothing about the argument that had occurred on Halloween, you knew he hadn’t expected this. The dying red roses in the bottom of his passenger side foot well told you as much.
Blinking a little too quickly for your liking, Steve bypassed you quickly and instead made his way into the kitchen and away from the scene unfolding in front of him. Instead of listening to any more of Hopper’s incessant — and frankly, pointless — yelling down the phone, you followed Steve, leaning against the counter as you poured a glass of water from the tap.
“You good, Harrington?”
The boy released a sigh, taking the glass from your offered hand before taking a few sips, his eyes refusing to meet yours as he looked at the paper lining the rooms, “Fine. I just, uh… I thought all this shit was over with.”
You couldn’t be certain if Steve meant the Upside Down situation or the Nancy and Jonathan situation. Either way, you didn’t dare to ask
“They didn’t believe you, did they?” Dustin questioned once Hopper had replaced the telephone.
“We’ll see,” he sighed, already knowing the answer, but trying to keep even remotely positive for the kids.
His bullshit, however, wasn’t sitting well with Mike, “We’ll see? We can’t just sit here while those things are loose!”
You’d caught Hopper’s attention before everyone made it into Joyce’s, both hanging back in his car as the rest made their way inside, a sight not unlike the one last year. You’d told him about El, and how you hadn’t been able to find her. You’d had no idea when she’d left, but you’d thought maybe she’d be with Mike. But if the boy had seen her, he wasn’t letting on, seemingly still in the dark about her well-being as he was at the beginning of the week.
After that, you’d rushed back inside and away from Hopper’s worried eyes. If you were surrounded by people, maybe he wouldn’t get the chance to question you.
“We stay here, and we wait for help,” Hopper grumbled, making his way down the hallway toward where Joyce had shut herself away. He’d mentioned on the drive back that Bob had sacrificed himself to make sure they all got out alive. He nearly made it and then… Then those monsters tore him apart.
Releasing a deep sigh, you rubbed your hand over your face before watching the four children at the table. You would be sitting ducks if you remained here, let alone the rest of the town who had no idea what was out there.
You jolted slightly when you felt a warm palm over your other hand, gripping to the counter with such intensity that your knuckles were beginning to ache.
In Steve’s other hand, he held out the same glass of water to you, now only a quarter full, “You’re shaking.”
Taking the drink, you slipped your other hand from under his own and placed it against the cold glass. Despite the chilly November breeze, the air in this house felt stale.
“I just… I feel so useless, you know?” Steve’s eyes remained on you, sad and all too soft, waiting as you continued, “They’re kids. They shouldn’t be sitting here waiting to be… hunted. Because let's face it, the same government that caused this isn’t about to break down the front door and help us.”
Steve didn’t know what to say, feeling just as helpless as you. So instead he remained leaning against the kitchen counter, staring out the window as Mike began to tell them about Bob, and the fact that he alone had started the AV club and that they couldn’t let the man’s death be in vain.
“I mean, when it was just Dart, maybe…”
“But there’s an army now.” Lucas sighed in defeat.
“His army,” something seemed to click in Mike’s head, “Maybe if we stop him, we can stop his army, too.”
The boys looked around at each other, clearly catching onto whatever Mike was babbling on about much quicker than you, Steve, or Max.
“Who’s army?” You dared to question. Mike didn’t respond, instead rushing toward the table where more pictures were set and showing you one of some kind of… spider monster.
“The shadow monster,” Dustin began, only to be cut off by Mike.
“It got Will that day on the field. The doctor said it was like a virus, it infected him.”
“And so this virus, it’s connecting him to the tunnels?”
“To the tunnels, monsters, the Upside Down, everything.”
“Whoa, slow down… Slow down.” Steve sighed, eyes darting between the paper and you, glad he wasn’t the only one in the group to be completely oblivious to whatever the kids were discussing.
“Okay, so, the shadow monster’s inside everything. And If the vines feel something like pain, then so does Will.”
“And so does Dart.”
“Yeah. Like what Mr. Clarke taught us. The hive mind.”
“Hive mind?”
“A collective consciousness? Like... Bees?” You questioned, one eyebrow cocked in almost disbelief. Snatching the drawing from Steve’s hands, you inspected the drawing, and what you assumed they thought was the brain.
“...Like the mind flayer,” Dustin announced, causing the other boys to look at him with shock.
Max, yourself, and Steve were once again on the outside of Nerdville looking in, “The what?”
Dustin rushed into Will’s room, grabbing a large book from his desk without a second thought and calling everyone else to the kitchen before slamming it onto the table, already opened to the right page, “The mind flayer.”
“What the hell is that?” Hopper questioned, brows pulled down, clearly unconvinced.
“It’s a monster from an unknown dimension. It’s so ancient that it doesn’t even know its true home. Okay, it enslaves races of other dimensions by taking over their brains using its highly-developed psionic powers.”
“Oh my god, none of this is real,” Jim sighed, “This is a kids’ game.”
“No, it’s a manual. And it’s not for kids. And unless you know something that we don’t, this is the best metaphor-”
“Analogy,” Lucas interrupted almost accidentally.
“Analogy? That’s what you’re worried about? Fine. An analogy for understanding whatever the hell this is.”
“Okay, so this mind flamer thing-”
“Flayer. Mind flayer…”
Nancy’s jaw ticked in annoyance before she continued, “What does it want?”
“To conquer us, basically. It believes it’s the master race.”
“Like the Germans?” Steve stammered, finally hoping he understood anything going on, only to be met with confusion around the table.
“Oh my god,” you mumbled under your breath, “We’re in the same history class, you are not this dense.”
Steve’s mouth opened and closed a few times, brows pulled down low as he scoffed at you.
“Uh, the Nazis?” Dustin sighed, watching as Steve stuttered once more.
“Uh, yeah, yeah, yeah… The Nazis.”
As Dustin continued, your eyes shot across to Hopper who was rubbing at his eyes in annoyance, and you could count down the minutes until he lost it.
“We are talking about the destruction of our world as we know it.”
“That’s great. That’s really great. Jesus…”
“Okay, so if this thing is like a brain that’s controlling everything, then if we kill it-”
“We kill everything it controls.”
“We win.”
“Theoretically.”
“Great, so how do you kill this thing? Shoot it with fireballs or something?” Hopper asked, grabbing the book from Nancy, annoyance still etched on his face.
“No, no… No fireballs,” Dustin’s slight amusement vanished the second the Chief turned his disdained glare to him, “Uh, you summon an undead army, uh, because… Because zombies, you know, they don’t have brains, and the mind- the mind flayer it… it likes brains. It’s just a game…”
“What the hell are we doing here?” Jim questioned, more to himself than anyone else, slamming the book back onto the table. There it was.
“I thought we were waiting for your military backup.”
“We are!”
“Even if they come, how are they going to stop this? You can’t just shoot this with guns.”
Rubbing at your temples, you tried to drown out their arguing as thoughts seemed to whoosh past you. Something the boys had said had rubbed you the wrong way, you just couldn’t put your finger on it.
“-And we know it’s only a matter of time before those tunnels reach this town.”
“They’re right,” a croaky voice interrupted them. Joyce made her way toward the table, eyes red from crying, “We have to kill it. I want to kill it.”
And a plan was set into place.
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You helped Hopper clear out the shed in the Byers’ backyard, tables and old fans thrown carelessly on the floor as you quickened your pace, untrusting of the dark night.
“Do you really think this is going to work?”
Sighing, Jim threw the last box to the floor as everyone else passed you, nail guns in hand, in an attempt to make the small shed look unrecognizable, “I don’t know what I believe anymore, kid.”
“We’re gonna be able to save him, right?”
Hopper stood back up to his full height before turning toward you and placing his hands on his hips, “We’re gonna do everything we can. Now hurry up and start-”
“I’m sorry,” you interrupted, unable to hold the words down, despite how acidic they tasted on your tongue. You weren’t used to apologizing, normally any arguments with your mother were over as soon as the morning came and she sobered up a little. And despite your vicious tongue, you often refrained from apologizing to anyone else, whether or not you wanted to. 'Sorry' had never solved anything for you before.
Hopper’s features softened slightly before he released a long sigh, “You don’t need to-”
“About everything. I’m sorry, for everything.” You reaffirmed, hoping he understood.
You were sorry that El had left, and you hadn’t been able to find her. You were sorry that you had broken the frame that held the only picture of his daughter that he dared to have on display. You were sorry he had to go through this again.
You quickly turned, marching out of one awkward conversation, and right into another.
Steve nailed the top corner of a tarmac sheet to the wall as Nancy peeled off some tape. You knew it was only them in the shed, but your mind had been distracted from the seemingly endless drama between the two. Before you could make a silent exit, Nancy turned, wide, blue eyes on you,
“Oh, hey.”
“I didn’t mean to come in here I just… Uh, I didn’t wanna be out there anymore.”
The girl sent you a shy smile, shaking her head as she continued to rip off pieces of tape. Steve, however, held out the nail gun in your direction, “Promise you won’t staple me to the wall if I let you have this?”
Huffing out a barely concealed laugh, you carefully took the staple gun out of his hand and shrugged, “No promises, Harrington.”
Once the rest of the gang had finished their jobs, collecting newspapers and flattened cardboard that would help to conceal the small shack, you all made your way back into the house as Jonathan carried Will into the shed.
Placing a gentle hand on his shoulder, you squeezed reassuringly before taking your exit, faces of the others peering out from the kitchen window.
As time ticked by, Steve made his way toward the lounge, practicing his baseball swing, feeling almost certain that he’d need to use it again tonight as the rest of the kids, bar Mike were scattered around the house.
You stood in the kitchen with Nancy, the girl staring blankly at the wall as you slowly washed up the dishes in Joyce’s sink, trying to make yourself feel a little less unhelpful.
“Jonathan and I… We, uh… We planned on meeting with Barb’s parents to tell them the truth.”
A plate slipped out of your grip, landing back in the soapy warm water and splashing your shirt. Looking over your shoulder, you didn’t manage to get out a word before Nancy cut you off,
“We didn’t… But, we did do something else. We met with someone else. That’s where we were this weekend. Why we ditched school.”
You’d heard the rumors that the two had been seen rushing away from school Thursday afternoon and hadn’t shown back up Friday morning. Billy and Tommy had been cackling about it whenever Steve had passed them in the hallways, causing the rest of the school to mumble and giggle about it, too.
But you knew how rumors worked, especially in high school, and decided to keep your nose firmly out of their business. But this? Well, this was your business…
“Please tell me you didn’t do anything stupid,”
“We met with the detective that Mrs. Holland told us about-” Dropping your head forward, you let out an exasperated sigh, “It’s fine he… He isn’t what we thought he’d be like. We told him… Everything. Had proof, too. But he made a very good point-”
“At keeping your mouth shut?”
“At telling the right story. You were right… The truth wouldn’t do anything for Barb, or her parents. It would just put us all at risk. But if we tell some of the story, the important parts… Then we can make sure they don’t get away with what happened to her.”
Squeezing your eyes shut briefly, you placed the clean plate onto the side and dried your hands before finally turning to the girl, “Okay. So they go down for… something?”
“Murray’s taking care of that. But, yes… They won’t get away with what they did, even if it’s only a half-truth.”
Your mouth opened but quickly shut as the lights above began to flicker, a sure sign that something was here.
Turning back around, you peered out of the kitchen window, unable to see anything in the shed. Your heart was pounding like a drum, pushing against your rib cage in what felt like an escape attempt. A hand pressed against the middle of your back, just firm enough to notice it was there, as two dark eyes peered down at you.
The nailed bat in his hand was a strong reminder of what had happened here almost a year ago, and somehow, shit hit the fan whenever you stepped foot in the Byers home.
But Steve was here, again. And if need be, he would protect you. Again.
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Once the flicker had settled, you remained at the kitchen counter, hands folded over your chest as you stared off into space with Steve standing nearby like some kind of guard dog when Hopper pushed through the back door, causing everyone to jump slightly, Joyce and the boys following close on his heel.
“I think he’s talking, just not with words.” Jim began writing something down on an old envelope, lines and dashes and-
“Morse code?” You asked, your brows pinched together as you peered over Max’s shoulder.
“Here.”
“Will’s still in there. He’s talking to us.”
You sat around in a group at the table listening to Hopper over the walkie-talkie, tapping out the morse code as you all tried to decipher it,
“Dash, dot, dash dot.”
“C,” you sighed, not needing to look at the paper that came with the radios, watching as Nancy waited for the kids to double-check, a quick nod before writing down the letter.
“Where the hell did you learn Morse code?” Lucas questioned, not meaning to sound so rude.
“Hopper made me learn it a while back. He has some stupid code to get into his cabin.”
When the group sent you a confused glance, you simply shrugged, “He lets me stay there when I need to get away from my Mom. That was an L, by the way.”
Nancy quickly wrote down the letter, and the rest of the group seemed to let your previous comment slide, now much more focused on the task at hand.
C L O S E G A T E
There was another gate. And El was the only one who could close it.
The sudden, blaring ring from the house phone caused you all to leap from your positions, Dustin lifting the receiver only to place it back down. When the phone rang a second time, Nancy ripped it right from the wall, ensuring it wouldn’t happen again.
“It’s just a phone. It could be anywhere, right?” Steve questioned.
But in the silence that surrounded you all, you heard it.
The screeching in the distance that haunted your dreams, and now your reality.
They knew where you were, and they were coming.
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Jonathan rushed back into the house, a once again unconscious Will in his arms as he laid him on the bed in his room as if that could keep him safe from the monsters that would be barrelling through his front door any minute now.
“Can you use this?” Hopper asked, holding out a gun toward Jonathan as he returned. Looking as if the Chief had just spoken an old, ancient language Jonathan simply shook his head. Thankfully, Nancy stepped in, taking the gun. If anyone had a chance at hitting those things, it definitely wasn’t Jonathan.
Your hands gripped the ax that Joyce had stowed away next to the bookshelf, your grip clammy but tight as you held it up high, ready to swing it, throw it, or… do something. Anything.
Standing between Hopper and Steve, you waited with bated breath for the monsters to get closer, hoping to God that at the very least, you would fill the monsters up before they had time to start munching away on the kids.
The screeching grew louder and louder, turning into groaning, a yelping almost, and then… it stopped.
You all swiveled around the room, unable to tell which direction they’d be coming from when suddenly, one flew through the front room window, smashing the glass and lying, unnervingly still on the floor.
A collective gasp fell from the group's mouth as the kids were pulled back by Joyce, Steve shoving you behind where he stood next to Hopper, the two watching silently, almost expecting the monster to stand up, shake it off, and then attack them.
But it didn’t.
Something, or someone, had killed it.
“Holy shit,”
“Is it dead?” Max asked as Hopper nudged its head with his boot.
The door creaked slightly, a force from the other side began to turn the locks, and before you knew it, you had shoved Hopper’s gun downward, pleading for him to not shoot.
And there, with blood running down from her nostril, stood Eleven.
Her name had barely fallen from your lips when she propelled herself forward, meeting you halfway across the room as you wrapped your arms around each other, a soft sob falling from her.
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msmischief101 · 1 month
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chapter 58: it's not the devil at your door Warnings: violence
You can read it on AO3 as well.
[a/n: sorry for the very long wait. Life got in the way. Thank you so much for your patience. I hope you're enjoying the new chapter💖]
---
“John, with all due respect, I don’t think you have any idea what you’re dealing with.”
“I’m dealing with two traumatized teenagers, Noshiko.”
Stiles watches the spot on the ley line where his father most likely stands, watches as Jordan puts his head in his hands. The conversation must’ve been going on for longer than he’s awake. They’re all exhausted, Stiles can hear it in their voices.
“I think,” Brett pipes up from where he sits on the kitchen counter, “you’re underestimating Sheriff Stilinski.”
Noshiko makes a small impatient noise. “I think your personal feelings are clouding your judgement.”
“Funny, I could say the same about you.”
“Brett.” Satomi’s voice is calm, but it does have the desired effect of shutting her second in command up. Still, there is anger vibrating through the ley line connected to Brett. It’s not surprising. Although Satomi has always seemingly maintained a neutral balance. This time, however, it feels as if she’s choosing a side – a side Brett does clearly not agree with.
Stiles can’t blame him. He’s not agreeing with Noshiko either, but that’s nothing new. They haven’t really agreed on anything for most of the time. Well, aside from killing him in case he’s going to become a hazard for the people around him. That has been the case only a couple of days ago. Now, however, things are different again. Plus, killing him always comes with the price of killing every single chimera still alive and kicking.
Jordan leans back in his chair. “Locking him up in the Hale Vault is only going to re-traumatise him.” He curls his hands around something. A mug, perhaps, or a glass. If Jordan were alone, it might’ve been a glass of whiskey but with Stiles’ dad, Satomi, and Noshiko around, it’s probably some sort of calming tea.
Stiles wonders if he wishes for something stronger. He certainly would.
Noshiko doesn’t sound happy with that, “if we don’t, we put the whole town at risk.”
“You make it sound like Stiles is some sort of monster,” Brett remarks icily.
“He killed-“
“Enough!” His dad slams his hands on the table. The sound startles Stiles enough to pull away from the ley lines accidentally, returning to the quiet of his bedroom with his heart hammering as if he’s run a marathon – not because he’s scared or surprised. Noshiko has proven more than once that she’s absolutely willing to kill him if the need arises, or perhaps as a precaution. While he would’ve agreed with her a while ago, now, the thought of it only makes him want to rip her head off.
Maybe that’s proof enough of her being right.
“You know, it’s rude to eavesdrop.”
Stiles nearly jumps out of his skin. He whips around, spotting Isaac sitting on a mattress on the floor next to his bed. He’s wrapped in a blanket, wearing a sheepish grin. Stiles stares at him, speechless for a while then he settles back into his pillow. The movement jostled his wound, and he grinds his teeth. With a soft sigh, he closes his eyes, trying to ignore the pain. It feels as if someone set his whole upper body on fire.
Next to him, Isaac shuffles under his covers. “I’m angry too.” Again, he’s silent, and the night grows heavy around them. “She’s got no idea what you had to do down there.”
A tight first curls around his heart. No. She doesn’t know. Not everything, that is. But neither does Isaac. Nobody knows the full story of what happened in Eichen House’s basement. Isaac is aware of most of it, but he’s got no clue about the worst part of the story.
Without replying, Stiles pulls his covers up to his chin, fighting the urge to roll onto his side and hide away from the world for a little while longer. He’s not ready to face it yet, or anyone in it.
-
Tracy screeches as she steps on a broken flashlight in the darkness and loses her footing.
“Quiet,” Theo snaps. There’s an edge to his voice. It’s not quite fear yet, but he’s certainly worried.
Once Stiles is done with Tracy, he’ll deal with Theo. Mates or not, nobody will take away his food ever again. Some lessons clearly need to be taught as early as possible so shit like this will never happen again.
Stiles turns his head to the right. Even if Tracy were as quiet as a statue, he wouldn’t have any issue finding her in complete darkness. The scent of her sheer panic acts like a neon sign.
“Quiet!” Theo orders again, and his voice carries through the dark hallway. “Stiles, stop it.” Red eyes flash in the darkness, darting back and forth as if looking for him. They pass right over him, but his aura doesn’t give him away like it would Kira or perhaps even Noshiko and other foxes. The night is his kingdom. It bends to his will.
Tracy shrieks then hits the ground hard. She makes it almost too easy.
“Miecio!” Theo’s voice is calm, but his scent is spiked with fear now. Is he afraid of him, or what he might do? “You wanna be pissed at someone, be pissed at me. I killed Deaton, remember? She didn’t do anything.”
Stiles whips his head around and stares at the vague shape of his boyfriend, his mate. It’s getting easier to see him by the second. He can almost make out his features now. Under normal circumstances, Theo wouldn’t have any issue finding him. But now, Stiles doesn’t want to be found. By anybody. He narrows his eyes, following Theo as he moves to the left as quietly as possible. Away from him. Towards Tracy. He grinds his teeth. “Don’t tell me you’re protecting her.”
Theo’s red eyes snap towards him, and he stops moving. It’s hard to tell if he sees him or merely fixes on a spot in the dark, he assumes to be Stiles. “I’m protecting you.”
“From her?” Stiles scoffs. “Don’t insult me.”
“I’m protecting you from yourself.” Theo takes a step forward. Judging by the groan of pain, he hit one of the orderlies instead of the ground. It doesn’t deter him from moving, much less talking. “I know you’re angry, but-“
Stiles shoots his hand out, curling his fingers around Corey’s throat. “Do you consider me stupid, Theodore?” He tightens his grip, digging his fingertips into the soft skin without looking away from Theo. It would be easy, so very easy. But Corey is innocent in all this. He’s merely following orders. With a sigh, he lets go of the kid. “I’m awfully sorry about this,” he says, and, for what it’s worth, he actually means it, before shoving his hand against Corey’s chest.
A surge of energy rushes through Stiles’ body and hits Corey square in the chest. It sends him flying and crashing straight into Theo.
Stiles chuckles. “Now,” he whispers, finally stepping out of the doorway. “Oh, Tracy.” If only he could hear her heartbeat now. He can only imagine it would match the panic filling all his senses. “Come out, come out, wherever you are.” As if she could hide from him. Nobody can. Not in here. However, there is nothing quite as sweet as the taste of hope ripped away.
“Tracy~” he sings. He raises his brows. He can see her now, crouching next to one of the guards, a hand pressed over her mouth. She’s holding out her right hand, claws dripping with venom, probably hoping Stiles is stupid enough to run into her.
Stiles stops on the other side of the body. “Boo,” he whispers and kicks her in the face.
She screams out in pains as she sprawls on the floor.
Could he have used magic? Yes. But this is so much more satisfying.
“Theo, please. Help!”
Stiles sets his jaw. Without hesitation, he grabs her by the hair and slams her into the wall. “I’m done with this.” Done with her dragging Theo into her business. Done with her acting like Theo cares about her. She isn’t even supposed to be here. She was supposed to rot. “Just because he got you out doesn’t mean you’re going to stay.” He leans closer and places his mouth right next to her ear. “I’m going to get rid of you one way or another.” But not quite yet, first, he is going to have a fun time with teaching her a lesson. Everything would’ve been so much easier for her if she finally realised that Theo isn’t hers to touch.
Something shifts in the darkness, striding closer by the second. Flames lick around the corner and illuminate Theo, staring at him, and Corey, both hands pressed against the wall but now frozen like a deer in headlights.
“Welcome to the party.” That certainly makes everything a lot easier. Smirking, he slams Tracy’s head against the wall and lets go of her, not bothering to wait until she’s crumpled to the ground, whimpering softly. Instead, he returns to his spot by the door, watching in amusement as Corey shuffles towards Theo again. Keeping his distance isn’t the worst idea. There will be a point when even following orders isn’t an excuse for getting to Isaac any longer, and Stiles really doesn’t want to hurt Corey.
Theo reaches out for him and puts a hand on his shoulder. “Jordan,” he calls just as the hellhound rounds the corner, “we need your help.” It’s not hard to imagine how much this admission must’ve hurt his ego.
Try as he might, Stiles cannot suppress a bark of laughter. Does Theo truly believe Jordan would follow his orders?
“Stiles,” Jordan breathes, almost surprised to see him unharmed and alive. Perhaps not an unusual reaction after being gone for so long.
“Jay,” Stiles replies with a small nod, “Cerberus.” It’s fascinating to see how Jordan’s face morphs into a nearly expressionless mask. If not for Isaac, Stiles would feel bad for using him like this. However, it isn’t about revenge, it’s about a rescue, and Cerberus is the only person Stiles trusts to get Isaac out of here. Jordan would understand. He will understand. “Bring Isaac to safety. Just you. Nobody touches. Nobody stops you.”
Theo shakes his head. “Jordan…” But he is smarter than to step into a hellhound’s path. All he can do is watch. He clenches his jaw, narrowing his eyes as he’s reduced to stand by, unable to do anything else. As great as Tracy’s panic may be, there is something about Theo’s anger, that’s so much more tempting, something Stiles just can’t stay away from – and he refuses to allow anyone to come in-between them.
Gently, Jordan lifts Isaac into his arms. The werewolf makes a soft pained noise, but he is safe with Jordan – most likely a lot safer than he would be with Stiles. He could leave with him, just walk out of here, and end this nightmare once and for all.
His gaze snaps to Deaton. It’s over.
It’s over.
Stiles curls his hands into fists.
But he’s not done. Not yet anyway.
-
“Hey.” Someone shakes his shoulder.
Stiles startles awake, fist aiming blindly in the direction of the sound.
Luckily, Jordan has quick reflexes. He catches his wrist before his knuckles had the chance to connect with his nose. “Nice aim.” Jordan cocks a brow, studying his face for a few moments before his expression softens and something akin to regret sneaks into his features. He probably should’ve known better than to wake Stiles up like this.
Drawing his brows together, Stiles slumps into the pillows. He is still exhausted, but that’s not what’s keeping him glued to his mattress. It’s the past and the memories. The reality of what happened and what he did. It’s the blood on his hands. It’s the crushing realisation of having gone to far.
It’s also the fucking pain in his chest.
“Josh is here.” Jordan places his hand on the blanket next to Stiles’ arm. “He wants to know if you want to join them.”
Pressing his lips together, Stiles pushes himself into a sitting position although he’d rather burrow deeper into his blanket and hide from everyone and everything forever. He winces at another zap of sharp pain cuts through his chest and back. Stiles notices the twitch of Jordan’s hands, but he seems to know better than to baby him. Turns out having one silver eyes makes for a good death glare.
Stiles clears his throat. “Theo?”
Jordan avoids his eyes.
Stiles drops his gaze to his hands then shakes his head.
Bed sheets rustle as Isaac props himself up. As much as Stiles would prefer to be alone at the moment, Isaac’s presence keeps the panic at bay. His dad joked about the co-dependency, but it was a half-hearted attempt at lightening the mood after he found out Isaac moved into Stiles’ bedroom. The days aren’t even the issue. It’s when the nightmares creep in.
Jordan runs a hand through his hair. “You can’t hide forever.”
-
“Come on, Stiles!” Theo’s frustration is palpable. “You can’t hide forever!”
Oh, but he can. Especially down here where it’s pitch black. Watching Theo getting more and more angry is like getting an early Christmas present. Stiles doesn’t want to miss it for the world. In fact, he’d like to make it worse. He wants him to explode, to taste all that pent-up rage his mate has been holding on to forever.
“Stiles, please.”
“Begging, really?” Stiles laughs softly, watching as Tracy and Corey work their way along the walls, probably to get behind him. It’s not a stupid idea to surround him, but in the end, Stiles can see them while they still have no clue where he is. With Cerberus’ fire gone, they’re back in complete darkness. “Come on, Misu, you’re an alpha now. Begging should be beneath you.”
As expected, Theo’s anger spikes briefly. His short fuse if truly a gift. “And you’re a nogitsune now, everyone is afraid of you.” His tone shifts. The storm of anger turns to a cool breeze. It’s nothing more than a façade. “Yet you’re hiding.”
“I’m not hiding.” Stiles moves to stand right in front of Theo, brushing his fingers lightly over Theo’s cheek. The simple touch makes him dizzy with want. A soft gasp falls from Theo’s lips. How long have they not touched each other? How long has he been down here? “I’m playing,” he adds in a low voice.
Before he has the chance to get a hold of him, Stiles puts distance between them. He’ s not stupid enough to risk being caught. Real kitsune or not, once Theo’s got him, it would be game over, and he’s not quite ready to end it.
Not until he’s done with Tracy.
Stiles watches her shuffle further down the wall and draws his brows together. It doesn’t seem like they’re trying to surround him.
“You play with your food?” Theo asks, his voice mocking, almost cruel – it’s the same he’s used on Scott whenever they interacted lately. “I thought your mother taught you better than that.”
Stiles whips around. “What?”
“You heard me.”
Rage licks at his insides. Stiles curls his hands into tight fists. Nobody is putting his mother into a bad light, not even Theo.
Before he can move, however, the lights come back on. A soft curse falls from his lips, and he shields his eyes. For a moment, it disorients him badly. Blood rushes in his ears.
His muscles ache.
He’s starving.
Badly.
“Tracy, no!” Theo yells.
Without the warning, Stiles would’ve been caught blindsided. This, however, allows him to sidestep her attack. Still, the claws miss him only narrowly, and he nearly falls on his ass. He rights himself the second Tracy attacks him again. There’s blood smeared under her nose and cheek. Her nose doesn’t look quite right either. Her fangs bared in anger. Good thing that anger makes her just a stupid as it does everyone else, so he manages to catch both her wrists easily.
She snarls, trying to free herself.
As luck would have it, strength-wise they’re pretty evenly matched. It’s alphas that will forever be the bane of his existence. Not only can they kill him with a single bite, they also overpower him as if he’s nothing more than an ordinary creature.
Which he most certainly is not.
Grinding his teeth, he kicks Tracy in the stomach. He’s done playing with her. This fucking kanima needs to get lost.
Now.
As she folds in on herself, Stiles lets go of her arms and grabs her head instead.
“No!” Corey’s voice echoes in the hallway.
Footsteps approach rapidly from his left, but it doesn’t matter. Stiles snaps her neck. Hardly anything could be more satisfying. Too bad she’s going to heal from that. Too bad she’ll wake up and continue to be a fucking menace in his life. Maybe he should end it right now. That would spare him a lot of problems in the future.
Theo crashes into him, and it’s like being hit by a wrecking ball. They hit the ground hard. Stiles grinds his teeth together, trying to keep the grunt of pain safely tugged away. Instead, he wedges his arm free and elbows Theo in the face. The impact sends another wave of pain through his arm. The shock, however, startles Theo long enough that Stiles manages to get out from underneath him before he’s able to pin him down.
With narrowed eyes, Theo spits blood on the ground and gets to his feet.
Behind him, Corey disappears into thin air, Tracy slung over her shoulder.
Stiles fixes his boyfriend with a glare. “You’re still protecting her?” How could he? After what she did? Not to him, but to Theo. She nearly got him killed. Her jealousy almost ended the life of the one person she claimed to love.
“I don’t care about what happens to her.” And yet, Theo is shifting into the middle of the hallway, making his intentions absolutely clear. There is no getting past him. He’s helping her get away. “I care about you.” Yet he curls his hands into fists and narrows his eyes. He’s ready to stop him if push comes to shove. An unstoppable force. “And that you can still look at yourself once you’re out of here.”
“How nice of you.” Stiles cocks his head to the side. How far would Theo really go to stop him, is the real question. There was a time when he would’ve hurt him. Not too long ago, Theo was more than willing to use violence to get his way. Things are different now, but how different is Theo when someone defies him for too long?
-
“Sorry,” his dad whispers, pulling his hands away. “I’m sorry.”
Stiles glances at him in the mirror then back at his chest. The wound is still red and aggressive. He’s still bleeding whenever he’s moving too much, or his bandages are changed. “It’s fine.” Jordan didn’t have any more luck yesterday either. The bandages stick to his skin, tugging on the scabs. He’d prefer if nobody touched it, but with how aggressively red his skin already is, he also doesn’t want to risk an infection. Not with how slowly he’s healing at the moment.
Slow enough, in fact, that people are questioning his intentions. He is trying to heal himself.
But getting run through with the sword of a thunder kitsune is nothing to shake off that easily.
Carefully, he pokes one of the scabs and winces. Yeah, there’s no shot he’ll risk an infection.
“Should we call someone?” his dad inquires with furrowed brows.
The things Stiles would give to see his dad relax. But until he’s fully healed, and the Dread Doctors are dealt with, there’s not exactly much he can do to help that. “Who, Deaton?” his tone is mocking, bit his dad’s glare shuts him up quickly. Although his father understands that Stiles and Theo had to do what was necessary, he’s still the sheriff of this town. “I don’t think so. I’m healing just a little slower than usual.” And that’s more annoying than something to worry about.
His father sighs. “I don’t know anything about this.” As it is, he isn’t the only one. Stiles is pretty sure nobody here knows what the hell is going on either – and the only people who might have an inkling are either wanting to kill him or dead. That’s not exactly comforting.
There’s also Morrell, but the last time they ran into each other, she wanted to kill him. So, he doesn’t exactly trust her either.
When his dad holds up the bandage, Stiles raises his arms compliantly. He just wants to go back to bed and sleep, or at the very least rest his eyes.
“You should stay home for the rest of the week,” his dad muses as he carefully wraps the bandage around Stiles’ chest. Only someone attuned to the supernatural world would suggest that resting for a week is enough to deal with a wound like this. A few months ago, Stiles would’ve easily died like a normal person after someone drove their whole fucking katana through his chest.
Now, he’s merely sleeping it off.
“You know,” Stiles says in a soft voice, “I do have enough credits to graduate early.” Attending summer school to be a good friend to Scott helped wit that.
His dad purses his lips. “No.” That doesn’t come as a surprise. His health and education are two things he’s never not extremely serious about.
“I can’t go to college anyway.” They don’t even know if he’s able to leave the nemeton’s territory at all, but they’re pretty sure he won’t be able to stay away for as long as any college would require him to. Once his grandparents are too old to travel, Stiles is never going to see them again.
His dad pulls the bandage tighter almost passive-aggressively. “What happened-“
“Dad, I’m a walking and talking time-bomb.” Stiles locks eyes with him in the mirror, and he knows he’s won the argument before it really began. “I’m a nogitsune now. I need to get a handle on this, or I’ll accidentally turn my school into a warzone because I’m in a bad mood. I can’t go back and play lacrosse like nothing’s changed. I can’t be that irresponsible.” And he most certainly won’t be. He was flying off the handle bad enough that he- Stiles shakes his head. Best not to think about that. Besides, there is still the issue with the Dread Doctors. If they haven’t gotten what they came for, there’s always the possibility they’ll come back for him again. A school full of students didn’t stop them before, and it’s not going to stop them now.
“I just want you to have a normal life.” He secures the bandage and drop his hands.
Stiles hates seeing him like that. He hates that his father has always tried his best to keep Stiles’ life as normal as humanly possible. Ever since his mother passed away. It has never been normal, but they found their new normal. They’ll be able to do that again. “I could start working for you,” Stiles offers with a small grin. He’s wanted to become an FBI agent, but with the trajectory his life is going, becoming a deputy might be the next best thing.
His dad offers him a small smile in return. “We’ll figure something out, kiddo.”
-
“Let’s figure this out, okay?” Theo’s new reasonable side is seriously starting to piss him off. He is burning with anger, and yet he’s just standing there. Again. Trying to defuse the situation.
Stiles wants to rip his head off. Instead, he moves his fingers in a beckoning gesture, and the four broken flashlights raise into the air, lifted by the few shadows Stiles has access to. “Oh yeah?” He’s not interested in talking this out. He’s interested in getting rid of Tracy for good. Sighing deeply, he points at a flashlight. Without a second of hesitation, it shoots directly at Theo’s face.
His eyes narrow as he swats it away like an annoying housefly. “Stop it.”
But Stiles doesn’t. “Or what?” he asks as the next flashlight rushes towards Theo.
Again, he slaps it away. “I said, stop.”
Stiles grins and hurls the next one at him. “And I said, or what?” There’s got to be a way to push Theo over the edge. He needs him to move out of his way before Corey gets too far away. He might be able to deal with Theo by himself as long as Theo won’t be able to grab him, but there’s no way in hell he can deal with the whole rescue squad.
Not right now, that is.
Not when he’s weak.
Theo bares his teeth in a snarl. “Stiles, stop.”
“Make me,” Stiles taunts before sending the last flashlight in his direction.
Finally, Theo breaks into a run, his anger boiling over, becoming stronger than his logic. Because he knows what he’s doing is stupid. He’s got to know; Stiles is having the upper hand the very moment he’s giving him an opening.
Stiles can see the realization on his face the moment he’s twisting away and out of reach. He doesn’t wait around to bask in Theo’s frustration. Instead, he breaks into a run. He doesn’t know where all his friends are, but he can pinpoint the ones he’s worried about the most – Theo, behind him in the hallway, running but not gaining on him. Brett, standing guard by the showers, the easiest way in and out, and then there’s Peter, waiting in the tunnels.
Corey hasn’t reached Brett yet, but Stiles is running out of time.
He’s doubling his efforts, rushing past mostly paralyzed guards. The chimeras didn’t even try to be sneaky on their way in. That makes it a lot easier to catch up, and thanks to Jordan burning every line of mountain ash he came across, nothing else is stopping him. Nothing at all.
As he runs, Stiles breaks every light he can find. The hallway plunges into darkness, reinvigorating him with every step he takes.
Somewhere in front of him, Corey gasps.
Gotcha.
Stiles gathers his strength and make a sweeping motion towards the ground. It takes a few seconds until the rumbling starts and a couple more until the ground is breaking apart right in front of his feet.
And more importantly, right underneath Corey’s feet.
The chimera yelps when he loses his footing in the darkness. Only a heartbeat later, Tracy tumbles into view.
“What the-“
“Jackson!” Theo yells. “Stop him. Stop him!”
Brett is moving now. Seems like he’s not been guarding the showers alone. Great. Then again, who is he told to stop? Guards, or Stiles.
Traitors. The lot of them.
Stiles brings his hands up, using the shadows to hurl the rubble towards the remaining lights in front of him.
They’re plunged into complete darkness just as Brett and Jackson round the corner.
Stiles heaves a breath and moves out of the doorway. Fuck. He was so fucking close. There’s no way to- Stiles blinks. But there is. There is a way to kill her quietly and get some power back. After all, she doesn’t need to be conscious to be terrified.
Two sets of footsteps come to a stop near the other gate. “What the hell?” Jackson repeats, sounding utterly confused. “I just saw him. He was right there.” Unbeknownst to him, he is pointing directly at Stiles. Being utterly invisible will never cease to amaze him. Werewolves aren’t usually this easy to fool.
Still, that’s his cue to move. Slowly, he tiptoes towards the wall and inches his way towards Tracy. Their confusion might be the last chance he’ll have to get to her.
“No,” Corey breathes, sitting on the ground and holding his ankle. “He’s here. He can vanish in the dark.” As he moves, a small wince of pain echoes in Stiles’ ears like a gunshot.
Hunger and guilt twist in his stomach. Corey wasn’t meant to get hurt, but following orders means that you could end up as collateral damage. The world isn’t fair, not even to someone as innocent as Corey.
Stiles crouches down next to Tracy. He places a hand over her mouth, forcing the darkness to swallow her up too. All that’s going to give them away now would be a sound.
“Tracy.” Theo comes to a stop somewhere behind him. “He’s going to kill Tracy.”
Heart hammering in his chest, Stiles places his other hand at her temple. There are no defences keeping him out. He sinks into her mind as if swallowed up by the ocean.
“She’s-“ Brett cuts off.
“She was right there!” Jackson sounds more confused than worried as Stiles makes his way into the swirling of world of Tracy’s nightmares – of the Dread Doctors and what they did to her, of her father’s death, all the other night terrors that used to plague her.
Of Theo looking at Stiles.
Of Theo sending her away.
Of Theo in his bed, unresponsive and fighting for his life.
Her fault.
Stiles grinds his teeth. That was her fucking fault, and it’s going to be the last thing she’ll ever see. He digs his fingers into the nightmare, dragging it up to the forefront of her mind, twisting it, showing her how truly alone she really was.
Because that’s the thing she’s most afraid of.
Loneliness.
Of everyone she cares about leaving her forever. A room full of people with no one to turn to, a pack, a family that doesn’t care if she’s dying right next to them.
“Phone!”
The terror tastes exquisite. Panic like that, panic stemming from love rejected, from being left behind is something he could get used to.
“Phone, someone get a fucking phone.”
And the best thing about it? She’ll never wake up from it. The last moments of her life will be filled with everything she’s utterly afraid of.
How fitting.
Bright light rips him out of the nightmare.
Stiles blinks, raises a hand to protect his eyes.
Theo crashes into him again, ripping him off Tracy. It feels like what Stiles can only imagine to be hit by a wreaking ball. The impact makes his bones ache. Unfortunately, this time Theo is also prepared for Stiles’ trying to hit him. He grabs his arm in a painful grip. “Don’t,” Theo warns in a low growl.
But Stiles has one hand free. He slams it to the ground. The nemeton reacts faster this time. Roots curl around Theo’s ankles and rip him away before slamming him straight into Jackson, whose phone clatters to the ground. It lands flashlight down, taking part of the light with it.
Brett’s phone is still directed at him, and he’s standing only a foot away. “Don’t even think about it.” His stance is clear. Brett will fight him, no questions asked. He’s come a long way since their last run in down in the tunnels.
“You people really need to stop telling me what I can and can’t do.” Stiles jumps to his feet.
Brett huffs. “Go on, throw your rocks at me. You can’t kill me with your powers.”
“Oh, but I can.” Stiles smiles, cocking his head to the left as he pulls the roots back towards him. “And I have.” And he will again.
Just not yet.
Now, he needs to leave. Preferably fast and before the werewolves manage to pin him down. He is going to walk out of this place with his head held high or not at all.
Stiles flicks his wrist, and four phones are grabbed by shadows and pulled towards him. Four, but it’s only five people. He looks at the phones, drawing his brows together. Theo didn’t bring his phone. He’s also wearing sweatpants. Someone is prepared to hunt him down as a wolf if he has to. 
Of course, Theo isn’t about to give up easily.
Fun.
Stiles crushes their phones and throws the remnants back at them. By the sound of it, his aim wasn’t off.
Now, to distract them. A little bit of strife can never hurt anyone. All he has to do is-“
“I’m going to fucking strangle him,” Jackson snaps, fidgeting with something right next to his left eye.
It takes Theo a second to react, but he grabs his brother by the throat and slams him into the cold stone wall. “Touch him, and I’ll rip your head off.”
Never mind.
With anger issues running so deep in the family, Stiles doesn’t have to do anything. No wonder he’s so drawn to all of them, and especially Theo. Theo’s anger, his rage, it’s like crack. If they weren’t mates already, Stiles would’ve guessed they were destined to be anyway.
Brett growls in annoyance. “Guys, you know-“
“Don’t start, Prep School,” Jackson snarls. “You don’t get to act all high and mighty just because Satomi had pity on the poor little orphan.”
That snaps Brett to attention. Unsurprisingly, it doesn’t take much, but with how aggressive Jackson and Theo are, this fight works without much of his input. Good. Makes it a lot easier for him to slip out unnoticed.
Stiles grabs Corey by the back of his collar and pulls him to his feet. “Time to go,” he whispers, watching as the three guys barely resist to jump each other’s throat. Maybe they’re finally getting it out of their systems so their childish bickering will stop. “It’s gonna get ugly soon.” Too bad, Stiles has to leave. He would’ve preferred to stick around and watch everything blow up, but alas…
“You fuckin-“
“What?” Brett taunts, “you fucking what, Theodore. Speak your mind.”
Stiles doesn’t hear the reply, if there even is one. Instead, he slips into the showers and ushers Corey out of Eichen and into the tunnels. His second least favourite place on this godforsaken earth.
Corey drops to the ground with a wince and crouches down to hold his ankle.
“Sorry about that,” Stiles says, and he means it. The kid wasn’t supposed to get hurt. “Wait here. I’m sure the others will come soon.”
Sitting down, Corey frowns at him. “Why are you so nice to me?”
Nice is debatable, but in comparison to the others, Stiles supposed he’s right. “You didn’t stand in my way… at least not out of your own free will.” He shrugs and turns away. Time is a limited resource, one he’s not planning on wasting any longer, not even for Corey.
Sighing, he hurries down the corridor in the direction of Peter. He’s not sure who is stationed at the other exits, and although Peter may be strong, Stiles is pretty sure he’s his best bet of getting out of here before his influence over the others is completely gone.
Whoever decided to put Jackson and Brett together wasn’t exactly a genius. No wonder Stiles is usually the one making the plans.
“I know you’re here,” Stiles calls, slowing down as his eyes dart around the intersection. He has absolutely no intention of getting jumped by Peter Hale so close to freedom. “You might as well come out now.” After all, he can’t evade what he cannot see.
“My, my.” Peter chuckles. “So angry.” Slowly, he’s sauntering around the corner, placing himself in the middle of the intersection with his hands in his pockets.
Stiles curls his into fists. Peter seems almost bored and not the least bit concerned about Stiles getting past everyone on his own. “You’re alone?” Stiles asks, forcing himself to relax his shoulders. “Are you that full of yourself?” To be honest, he wouldn’t put it past him.
“You’d be surprised what a little family time can change.” Peter’s smile is unpleasant as during his worst days.
And Stiles doesn’t trust it or the fact that he’s all alone down here. That just doesn’t seem right. Loyalty to his family or not, Peter is the one most likely to let him walk away if it benefits him in some way.
“Get out of my way.”
“Unfortunately, I was told not to let you pass.” Peter is standing his ground, and with how narrow the tunnels are, getting around him might become an actual challenge. The thing is, if Peter doesn’t move to ensure Stiles isn’t turning the other way either.
He narrows his eyes. “What do you want?” because this is Peter Hale, and Peter Hale always wants something.
His smile broadens, and Stiles only barely resist the urge to step away when Peter closes in. “Your anger.” Peter raises his hands as if to grab Stiles’ face but thinks better of it. All that rage holds so much raw power, and you’re wasting it on my son’s incredibly uninteresting plaything.”
Stiles stiffens and curls his hands into fists. “What?” he asks through gritted teeth
“Oh, she hates you.” Peter leans in and lowers his voice. “Every day, she was sitting in his home, hoping you’d rot somewhere. She never wanted you to be found, Stiles.” Every single word is a match struck, slowly burning away the threads holding Stiles together. “And then,” Peter continues, putting his hands on Stiles’ shoulders, “the worst part, the utmost insult, Theo brought her here. Not to knock out those guards, oh no. She was his failsafe.”
Footsteps echo in the corridor, and Stiles looks over his shoulder, watching Jackson and Theo rush towards them at breakneck speeds.
Peter puts his mouth right next to Stiles’ ear. “She was supposed to paralyze you in case you lost your mind.” A chuckle ripples through his body. “Theo didn’t trust you, so he-“ Peter makes sure to lower his voice even further “-brought-“ and yet every single word feels like a godforsaken punch in the gut “-her.”
Stiles turns around fully, curling his hands into fists.
Without a second of hesitation, Jackson yanks Theo to a stop. “What did you do?”
Stiles’ gaze is locked on Theo. Angry churns in his stomach, spreading its uncomfortable heat throughout his whole body until there is nothing else left.
“I was told not to harm him,” Peter replies as he steps away from him. “I happen to be formidable at improvising.”
Stiles reaches a hand towards the shadows. There is terrible lighting down here, yet enough for him to vanish completely. Still, there is plenty to use to teach Theo his lesson once and for all. He pulls his hand back, dragging six shadowy throwing stars into the light.
“Do you- uh.” Jackson stops himself, glancing from Theo to the throwing stars and back again. “Are they real?”
Theo merely scoffs. “He’s a nogitsune.” The idiot might have not been said, but it’s very clearly heard.
Idiot, indeed.
Stiles throws the first star.
Although Theo seems to believe all of this is merely a hallucination, he moves his hand to swat it away like he’s previously done with the flashlight – unlike those, however, the throwing star buries itself in the back of Theo’s hand, drawing very real blood. A gasp of pain falls from his lips. For a moment, he stares at his hand, watches the thin line of blood forming on his wrist. He grinds his teeth, blue eyes narrowing dangerously as they lock with Stiles.
Rage.
Finally.
“Fine,” he snarls, pulling the star out of his hand. “Have it your way, little fox.” Blood drops into the dust at his feet before his skin closes up.
Stiles raises his brows and snaps his fingers, dissolving the stars in front of him.
“Theo, don’t fall-“
“Stay out of this,” Theo snaps without as much as a glance at his brothers. “Get the others and get out of here.” For merely a second, Theo looks at Peter. “You too. This is personal.”
While Peter is listening to Theo, Jackson doesn’t seem convinced. “Listen, Theo. This is a terrible idea.” He puts a hand on Theo’s shoulder and watches Peter as he all but saunters over to them. He couldn’t pretend to be more unbothered if he tried, yet, merely a moment before he passes Theo, he shakes his head. The movement is so small, Stiles would’ve never noticed if he hadn’t been looking for it.
“No,” Theo snarls in response to something Stiles didn’t hear. “I want you both to leave.”
And they do, even if only reluctantly.
Theo doesn’t move, but his claws spring free with a soft snick. “Not exactly how I imagined our reunion to be.”
“That makes two of us.” Stiles crosses his arms behind his back and smiles, head cocked slightly to the left. “I wonder whose fault that is.” After all, Theo came here not only disrespecting but also insulting him by bringing Tracy along like she’s never done anything wrong in her life ever – like she’s never done anything to them.
Red bleeds into Theo’s eyes. “Your little game ends here.” Without wasting any more time, Theo charges at him.
Predictable.
Stiles avoids him at the last second. Smirking, he dips his hand into the shadows again. A rush of power courses through his as the darkness bends to his will and around his fingers to create a slim chain. Stiles grabs it with both hands and wraps it around Theo’s throat. A snarls fills the silence of the corridor as Stiles yanks him back.
Theo’s breath hitches. His hands fly up to grab the chain, but for a moment, Stiles is stronger. “You know,” he breathes, pressing his mouth against Theo’s ear, “you should just give up.”
“On you?” Theo makes an odd sound in the back of his throat. “Over my dead body.”
Stiles lets go of the chain as if it burned him and steps away from Theo. His chest is suddenly too tight, his heart at least two sizes to big. He opens his mouth, but the words get stuck in his throat.
The chain dissipates.
“Miecio.” Theo raises his hands. His movements are so unbelievably slow – like he’s dealing with a caged animal.
And in some ways, perhaps he does.
Stiles shakes his head. “I don’t want you to die.” The words come out broken and angry. His heart hurts, and he wants to punch Theo until his knuckles bleed.
“Really?” Theo’s lips quirk into a grin. “I wouldn’t have guessed.” He moves closer, one step at a time. So dreadfully slow. The grin doesn’t reach his eyes.
Stiles’ body goes cold.
Theo doesn’t trust him.
But he trusted Tracy.
The rage returns like a tidal wave, drowning Stiles, consuming him. He rushes forward, slamming into Theo at full speed. It’s like running into a brick wall. But the anger numbs his pain. They’re crashing to the ground in a tangle of limbs.
“Stiles!” Theo bares his teeth, sharp, a death sentence. It’s one bite, that could kill him. Maybe even less. “Snap out of it.” He reaches for his arms.
But Stiles gets his hands on him first. He grabs Theo’s face and straddles him, slamming his head against the unforgiving stones once then twice. “Fuck you,” he spits. The soft groan, the pain thrumming under Theo’s skin – it’s like a drug. “Fuck you.” He could’ve already been out of here, but Theo had to make it complicated. He had to kill Deaton and, worst of all, he had to bring Tracy to stop him. Not only did he think that she could beat him, out of everyone, he chose the one person disrespecting Stiles and their relationship – and he’s not going to allow that again.
Stiles digs his fingers into Theo’s skin, almost blind with rage. “And you call yourself my mate? His eyes burn, tears prick at their corners. He’s been kidnapped, starved and experimented on.
And Theo allowed her back.
“You disgust me.”
Theo’s grips around his hips tightens as Stiles forces his way into his head. Another soft groan falls from his lips, one that might have very well be his name.
Stiles hits a wall in Theo’s mind. He didn’t expect this to be easy, not at all, but this one makes his head spin. Stiles closes his eyes and takes a breath. “Let me in,” he whispers, locking eyes with Theo again, and presses his thumb to the corner of his mouth. His stomach flutters as somewhere, deep inside him, the desire to kiss and hold Theo takes root. He’s missed him, desperately. His body craves his touch, his warmth so much more than everything else.
There.
The flash of an image. The woods. A bridge.
His sister’s death.
Stiles grinds his teeth and latches onto it, hooks his fingers into the crack to pry it open. “Let me in.”
“Please,” Theo growls, but the sound is weak, almost soft.  “Miecio, please.” Pain swims to the surface. Emotional pain. The one Theo loves so much.
Stiles gets it. He really does. It’s beautifully raw and nearly overwhelming, especially as Theo’s defences finally break open.
Another pained groan falls from Theo’s lips, but he’s stubbornly fighting back and sinks his claws into Stiles’ sides.
He hisses in pain.
Bastard.
The image flickers again, but Theo isn’t the only one who’s stubborn. Stiles pushes harder against his mental barriers, refusing to be forced out again – and then everything around him shifts into focus.
He’s standing on the bridge, looking down at Tara pleading for her life. She’s dying. Slowly and alone because Theo doesn’t care.
Or rather, he didn’t.
The little boy next to him is void of any feelings but pure hatred. He couldn’t care less about his sister’s death. Things are different now. The image flickers without Stiles’ doing. Little Theo is gone, replaced by Theo as he is now – damaged and unable to help. He is trying, however, pounding his fists against an invisible wall.
But there’s no way through.
No way to help—
Stiles blinks. There is Tara, dead in the water, his biggest regret. Next to her are the Dread Doctors, each of them holding one person.
Stiles, Jackson, and Peter.
After his sister’s death, Theo’s biggest fear remains the same; losing his family all over again.
“Stiles…”
He blinks again. The image in front of him flickers. What is he doing? What was the thinking? Theo would never hurt him. He’d never break his trust. Why- No. No. This is all wrong. This isn’t what he meant to do.
He’s hurting Theo over nothing.
Stiles pulls back and lets go of Theo, nearly throwing himself off him in his haste to get away. “I’m sorry,” he breathes, reaching out but hesitant to touch as Theo rolls onto his side, eyes squeezed shut tightly. “I’m- Theo, Misu, I- I didn’t- I’m sorry. I-“ didn’t mean to do that? Didn’t know what came over me? But he does. He knows the answer to that very question. Rage. Jealousy. The simple fact that he believed Theo disrespected him.
And Peter’s words finally made him snap.
“Theo, I-“
“Mom. Mom, no!”
Sharp, raging hot pain burns in his chest. Stiles opens his mouth, but no sound escapes him as he blinks down at the katana coated in his own blood sticking out of his chest.
-
“I’m going to kill her.”
“And that, dear brother, is why you need a babysitter around the clock.”
Theo glares at Jackson but doesn’t stop his pacing. His shoulders have been one rigid line ever since Stiles’ dad dropped him off here. Theo didn’t act particularly surprised about the early visit. He even had Stiles’ favorite breakfast ready at this ungodly hour in the morning. They didn’t even try to hide that they’ve planned this.
That, at least, means his dad stayed in contact with Theo despite Stiles avoiding him after what happened in Eichen.  
Huffing, Theo all but throws himself onto the couch and puts his head on Stiles’ lap. The way he is able to bounce back from everything – the way he trusts Stiles so much more than Stiles does himself – it’s almost too much.
Stiles swallows around the heart lodged in his throat. “Comfortable?” he asks, trying to sound casual, like he’s joking, but his voice is quiet and brittle.
Enough so that Theo studies his face with knitted brows before he smirks at him, “always.”
Jackson groans. “Can’t believe I’m saying this, but I’d rather be in school right now.”
“Why aren’t you?” Stiles asks as Jackson slaps Theo’s legs for some room.
His brother doesn’t fail to respond with a kick before scooting up a little higher.
“Because he-“ Jackson points at Theo without looking at him “- is a homicidal maniac, and you are the most unstable person I’ve ever met.”
Theo scoffs. “Why do I get flack when everyone in here killed someone?”
Jackson shoots him a sharp look.
Stiles pushes Theo off and gets to his feet.
Theo’s eyes widen slightly as he sits up. “Babe—”
“Don’t.”
“That wasn’t you.”
“I said don’t!” Stiles has never been able to handle insults very well, but on a normal day, he was able to wrap the insults up with a neat little bow to obsess over at a later time. “Don’t fucking tell me who I am, okay?”
Jackson eyes him warily, not moving from his spot on the couch. He won’t even give them the illusion of privacy.
Narrowing his eyes, Theo all but launches himself over the back of the couch. Although being smaller than Stiles, he seems to be towering over him. “You want me to call you a murderer instead? A monster?”
Stiles balls his hands into fists. “Don’t try to take away my accountability, jackass.” His heart is pounding in his chest as his anger rises like a tidal wave.
“You killed Tracy,” Theo shoots back without a second of hesitation. “Is that what you want to hear?” He sounds like it didn’t matter when it most certainly does.
It wasn’t self-defense. Not this time.
With Tracy, it was murder.
Stiles runs his fingers through his hair. “I killed her in a fit of jealous rage.” Who knows what else could put him in a state like that? He’s a ticking time bomb.
“It’s kind of hot when you say it like that,” Theo smirks, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes.
“I can’t believe I’m related to you,” Jackson mutters as he gets to his feet. “Anyone want a drink?” He points in the direction of the kitchen.
For a moment, Stiles stares at him. Yeah, sure, how could they ever be related. More so to clear his head than as a response. “Was it still hot when I tried to kill you?”
“Not really, no.” Theo cocks his head to the side almost contemplatively. “But I nearly killed you once too. I’d say we’re even.”
Stiles closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. “If you want to be technical about it,” he remarks icily, crossing his arms over his chest, “I almost killed you three times already.”
Theo huffs out a breath. “The time you threw me across the room hardly counts.”
“I should’ve stayed in London,” Jackson mutters as he wanders into the kitchen, shaking his head.
“This isn’t funny,” Stiles snaps.
“I know.”
“Then stop making light of this!” Stiles curls his hands into fists again and presses his arms tightly against his chest. He wants to throw something. He wants to hit something, someone. Theo, more specifically.
Theo stares at him for a moment, lips pressed together then he lets out a breath. “I’m not.”
“Trust me, Stilinski,” Jackson chimes in, tossing Theo a water bottle which he catches effortlessly, “we’re all taking this very seriously.” Raising his brows, he offers Stiles one as well.
Stiles can’t help but think of his babcia for a moment, who strongly believes that a good herbal tea can cure everything. Sighing, he takes the bottle and sits down on the edge of the dining table – if not to drink it, then at the least to give his hands something to do. He fidgets with the label, suddenly feeling utterly exhausted mentally. The urge to hide in his room returns in full force, and all he can do now is try not to shrink into himself.
Scrunching his brows together, Stiles rubs his chest. The pressure on the not fully healed wound helps grounding him.
“Does it still hurt?” Theo asks in a soft tone.
Stiles only nods. It’s been a week since Noshiko tried killing him, and he struggled to heal for the first couple of days. His body took over in the end. Now, the only mark on his body is the one on his chest. Everything else is gone, even Donovan’s bite. He’s hated and loved his scars, but in the end, they were proof of everything he’s endured – they made this carbon-copy of his body his very own, they made him feel human.
They’re gone now, and Stiles feels like a stranger to himself.
Theo sets the bottle of water on the table next to him. “Babe,” he all but whispers and cups his jaw, gently forcing Stiles to look at him, “I know you’d prefer to blame yourself for the rest of eternity, but I’m not going to. Things like that happen.”
Scoffing, Jackson sits down on the table next to him.
Stiles quirks a brow. “You mean a lot of people try to kill their significant other?”
“You were turned into a nogitsune hardly an hour before killing Tracy,” Jackson reminds him, twisting the cap of his water bottle as he stares out the window. “Losing control is kind of an initiation ritual for supernatural creatures. All your senses are heightened, your instincts crank your emotions up to a hundred – even Theo struggled to adjust to turning into an alpha, and he is still technically human.”
Technically.
Believing them is easy, hiding behind their words is not. Stiles swallows and looks everywhere but Theo’s face. “It’s no excuse.”
“No,” Jackson agrees.
Theo shoots him a look. “But we did learn what triggers you, so, we know what to avoid for now.”
“Hitting on your boyfriend for example, which is a mystery to me anyway.” Jackson smirks at Theo, clearly satisfied with himself.
“Killing your food,” Theo continues, not deigning the dig with a reaction. “Speaking ill of your mother.”
Under normal circumstances, Stiles wouldn’t have reacted badly to Theo implying his mother didn’t raise him well. Theo liked his mother, a lot. There were days when they hung out in the kitchen and watched her bake or cook or just drank hot chocolate together. During her stays at the hospital, Theo constantly kept asking if she’s okay and when she’d be coming home, and he’d be there on the days they’d pick her up. Theo never even spoke badly about his dad, and he’s given him a hard time.  
Jackson grimaces, “don’t go around insulting people’s mothers. You’re asking to get jumped.”
Stiles presses his lips together to hide his smile.
Judging by Theo narrowing his eyes ever so slightly, he’s probably failing miserably. “Glad you think this is funny.” He squeezes Stiles’ cheeks for a moment before smiling himself. Genuine, soft. He leans down to brush their lips together.
And that’s almost all it takes for Stiles’ heart to nearly combust.
“We’ll figure this out,” Theo whispers.
Stiles nods, slowly, and buries his face in his chest.
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viviennelamb · 5 days
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If you're a real artist of any kind, never read opinions from non-artists or people who haven’t taken any risks in their lives. Remember, you're not a feedback reader, you're making people like you feel less alone and perfecting your craft and process. When it comes to your art, think of this and nothing else.
The ordinary person doesn't know what devotion is like because their brains aren't even 1% functional.
They're not full nor complex people either, they're an ego programmed to please others so they can fit in. Uncreative people target anybody different from them. This is why they’re into politics and activism and can’t stand that anybody thinks differently than them. This is the Ego's nature.
I was there at some point too and it was repressive, but now I'm free. Those who aren't free judge because they're prisoners of their own minds. always remain aware of envy and the crabs in a bucket mentality. Doesn’t matter if they’re race, gender or sexuality liberationists, they are against you if you’re a real person and will hate you for being free without needing their help.
I know a lot of the people reading this are looking to break through their mental barriers and I must tell you the obvious... life is a millisecond in cosmic time and you must act quickly on the opportunities presented to you.
Nobody is rewarded for being "the most liked by egos.” When you die, you need to leave something that somebody can unearth and feel like they hit the jackpot to read, listen and look at and cherish for the rest of their lives.
There's no time for preoccupation with what zombies think. If you have time to worry, you need to add more work into your schedule (all real work is Spiritual, everybody else is just a busy body).
Successful people are too busy winning, or at least learning how to win, to judge people who are focused on their own craft. If you see somebody doing them but you’re judging instead of being inspired, you’re average and always will be until you decide to go for what you’re most scared to do.
Play your role to the fullest and you'll stop being depressed regardless of what the world shows you. When you're doing all that you can, you'll be lifted out of your depression. Most people are long-term severe melancholics because they’re not creating, but believe they're well and project that depression unto those who are sane and healthy.
Since being a depressive is normal, those who have the drive to do what they love everyday, regardless of what anybody has to say about it, are deemed unwell because it's not socially acceptable to serve your soul. Everybody wants you to be their social slave instead.
Beauty isn't balanced or normal, it's extreme and rare.
You keep daydreaming and thinking "if only I could..." you can! The second you decide to go for what you want, everything becomes available to you. You don't have to plan, just make the vow and act immediately and once you iterate and record what works and what doesn't, you're making progress.
If you want a shortcut, find a mentor. The more you stay in the freeze state nothing happens. Your conscious mind cannot comprehend "how," so forget attempting to understand or map out the trajectory of your life and just act.
Even if you're an aspiring artist, stop reading stuff you can't relate to, or negative people who judge others for stepping out of the box because that affects your mental health and therefore your art, even when it's not directed at you.
That fear they meant to direct at others doesn’t actually affect the supposed recipient, but the individual saying it as well as their peers. Now their peers are secretly scared to be open with somebody they thought they trusted.
By the way, the highest art is the Art of Self-Mastery. Once you take back full control of your mind, senses and body, you're well on the path to achieving the purpose of life. Even better if you share the process of achieving your purpose. Don't wait until everything is perfect.
Sure, people will think they know you even though you only share 0.01% of your life, but at the end of the day, you're stopping yourself from doing what you're meant to do. Any obstacles you face is a test to show yourself how much you really want something. Think of these obstacles as checkpoints.
Once you get going, you will get real life checks to show you how strong you've gotten and how much you've improved in your role/craft. Stay locked in regardless.
The vast majority are extremely mentally unwell because they don't create or share anything that brings light into other people's lives. That stagnancy, as well as their hatred of the soul is the death of the mind.
Never listen to a dabbler who only creates once a month even worse, once a year, tell you anything about your creation. Just nod and smile because you're listening to an opinionated slave.
Remember, the only thing the ordinary person produces daily is an orgasm and poop. It would take the fragile and mindless a month to write a post like this, same with the art you're driven about, but they will judge and dissect what you do when they haven't done anything, ever. They don't have the discipline to write and release something in the same day because they're too busy arguing and gossiping about what a random thinks.
Only intake art and perspectives from people who are utterly and crazily obsessed and then you'll feel like your heart is finally waking up, which is what happened to me. Only then will you reach that point of being unable to feign lukewarmness and soullessness anymore.
Once you begin to exit mediocrity, you will see people's hatred toward you (which is really toward themselves) leaking out as false concern, fighting, and creating dossiers on strangers yet this person doesn't even keep a daily journal of their own thoughts. These individuals exist for you. They're waiting for you because their life consists of talking about others, so give them something to talk about.
When an individual can't be honest and haplessly spends their life energy, they become afflicted with loneliness, anxiety, and a chaotic mind regardless of how many bodies they pile around them and how much validation they get. Most people are unskilled, emotionally, and socially retarded for this reason.
When I read stuff from those individuals in particular I'm severely underwhelmed... it's all misinformation about other people's lives and it's not even at least entertaining. I’m looking for anything real from them and there’s nothing but there’s nothing but race policing and sexual harassment.
They don't know what it's like to strive for something bigger than personal comfort and social validation. When their useless life ends, all that will be left behind of their existence is documentation of their sex-addiction, their list of diagnosed mental illnesses, ideology fights, and gossip.
Also, the people who say they wish they could meet certain artists are all lying. They would've been part of the crowd who judged them if they lived during the same time, especially the ones who pride themselves on being conformists whose best accomplishment is getting a girlfriend.
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maddascanbe-blog · 5 months
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MLB Rewrite: Origins prt. 1 &2
Note- I'm using (POV) to mention who the 'camera' is following for the most part. Also I skim over things that happen nearly the same as in cannon.
Hawkmoth Re-design
Origins Part 1
(Hawkmoths POV)
 Starts the same with Nooroo explaining the miraculous and Hawkmoth’s first transformation, though we wouldn’t see him outside of his hands.  As the butterflies crowd him to transform a scream of pain rings from his throat.
(Fu’s POV)
Like before, Wayzz fills Master Fu in on the butterfly being active.  But I’m gonna pull from the movie's idea of letting Tikki and Plagg choose their own wielders.  Fu does bring them to the school though with the intent of choosing a young initiate.   
(Marinette’s POV)
Marinette is 16 years old, this is her Junior year.
Marinette meanwhile has had a day of it.  Working herself up over everything she might need for her first day and nearly being late after reorganizing her bag for the 4th time that morning.  Finally, Sabine dragged her downstairs and Tom gave her the macarons.
(Adrien’s POV)
Adrien is also 16 at the moment.
Boy is forever trying to get educated but gets caught by Nathalie.
(Fu’s POV)
Master Fu briefly loses Plagg before seeing a black cat sitting on the back of Adrien’s car as it drives away.  Since he saw Adiren get in, and the boy’s face is all over Paris, he knows who his Cat is.
Marinette still saves Fu’s life as he had run into traffic looking for Plagg and paused in the middle of the road after seeing him.  Tikki jumps into Marinette’s bag while she’s picking up the macarons.
Content Fu heads home.
(Marinette's POV)
Chloe basically just says “Switch.”  And Marinette decides it honestly is not worth the hustle and does.  Alya introduces herself and berates Chloe’s actions to which Marinette shrugs and says, “I don’t really care, she probably has a reason.”
“All that is necessary for the triumph of evil, is for good people to do nothing.”
“A nice rule, but remember you can’t judge someone evil based on their first impression.  You never know what they could be going through.”
(Adrein’s POV)
It fades to Adrien being told his father is busy and can’t scold him right now.  Once Adrien goes back to his room he finds a cat sitting on his table, confused he tries to approach it but the animal just bounds away.  But on the table still, is a ring box.
(Ivan’s POV)
Que Kim and Ivan’s argument.  A black butterfly lands on the crumpled up paper.  All that we see or hear is the mask appearing on Ivan’s face and Hawkmoth's voice.  “Stoneheart, I am Hawkmoth.  You feel unsupported, and unseen.  Allow me to harden your heart and take that pain away.”
(Adrein’s POV)
Adrien is observing the ring when a quiet meow is heard behind him.  The cat is balanced in the back of his couch and looks between the ring and Adrien.
“You want me to put it on?”  He asks and gets a purr in return.   He does and there is a flash of light.
(Marinette’s POV)
Worrying herself to death over Alya chasing the monster, but too scared to follow her.  Marinette finds a box that had fallen out of her bag.  A ladybug lands on the box.
“Bug Mouse!”  And the cup things.
As Tikki explains, Marinette is working herself into a fit.  She’s terrified, but Tikki assures her that very little harm can come to her in the suit.  That she’ll have a partner to help her, and that it will give her a chance to protect Alya.  Unwilling to not even try when an innocent person is being puppeteered by an evil asshole she agrees.
Ladybug Re-design
Chat Noir Re-design
Key Power differences:
Ladybug:
Lucky Charm is specifically stated to give you a solution, not just an object.  The object is only to point you in the right direction.
Purification allows her to cleanse the akuma.
Miracle Cure allows the world to heal from and injuries caused by a miraculous  (Only Physical Damage) "Miraculous *Insert Name*"
Cat:
Cataclysm can either turn an object to dust or cause it to stop functioning.
Purgation destroys the dark energy in an akuma
Miracle Purge allows the world to burn out any effects a miraculous had on a person (Only works on Non Physical Effects) "Miraculous *insert Name*"
(Marientte’s POV)
They meet about the same way as cannon.  The fight up to a point is pretty similar, except Marinette is very thinly veiling her utter panic with humor.  Chat picks up on this and starts cracking jokes to help put her at ease.
After breaking the akumatized object they part ways, but the butterfly goes “Oops, bye bitch.”
Tikki’s like- “So you got the akuma right?  Right?”
“I can’t do this Tikki, I couldn’t even listen long enough to know what my one job was.  There are two many bad things that could happen, and all I can think about is how I can continue to mess things up in the future.  Paris doesn't need a Ladybug who can’t trust herself.  You deserve better.”
She removes the earrings and puts them back in the box.
Marinette goes to sleep with plans to give up the miraculous to Alya in the morning.
 The akuma is targeting people who had been rejected or feel unseen, turning them to stone more medusa style statues than Stoneheart’s golem influences.
Marinette wakes up late that night to the miraculous in its box buzzing, asking to be let out.
She goes to beg Tikki to please choose someone else.  Except when she picks up the box the earrings shoot from the box.  It leads her down and out of the house.  To a stone woman frozen in misery.
Marinette can’t stand to see someone suffering like this and tells herself she’ll do what she can to help until either Stoneheart is defeated or she can hand the miraculous off to Alya.
Origins Part 2.
In the morning, Marinette finally returns home to get ready for school.  She was up all night finding every akuma still loose and catching it.  She tells her parents she just went for an early morning run (technically true) and is okay, she is late for school though.
On TV she see’s Ivan has once again been re-akumatized, after trying to read Mylene his poem when they both got to school.  Knowing Alya will be chasing the akuma Marinette chugs some coffee and chases him too.
When Alya gets trapped Chat Noir is captured, same as cannon, she decides to be Ladybug just a little longer.
(Though she finds a hiding place first, gosh cannon Alya was like 20 feet away)
As Ladybug chases down Stoneheart she catches Chloe after she is thrown from the Eiffel tower.
Hawkmoth does not do the floating head thing.  Instead Stoneheart mentions that the butterfly that made him strong wants the miraculous.
Officer Raimcomprix tells Chat Noir that they’ve already failed one.
Chat Noir scoffs.  “No shit.  We’re two teenagers in spandex.  Of course we're gonna make mistakes.  But you don’t really have a choice but to trust us.  Because you can’t beat this thing, and we can.”
He turns to face Stoneheart.
“I know you can hear me, you’ll be looking through his eyes right?  Well listen up little Papillion.  I don’t know what you want, what drove you to this.  But I'll give you a bit of a friendly tip, you messed up.  Because you chose to prey on an innocent teenager, tried to force him to nearly kill Chloe Bourgeois, and attacked the girl he loves.  You’ve definitely made a mistake, bigger than either of ours.  Because you honestly thought that we would roll over and let you get away with it.”
Ladybug, in awe of her partner's confidence even in the face of failure, starts planning how to take out Stoneheart.
They do the kiss thing and both teens are rescued safely.  Ladybug catches the akuma and uses the Miracle Cure to fix the damage and bring the stone people back to themselves.
Chat asks to meet with Ladybug to talk about their new jobs later that night.
When Marinette arrives back at school she meets Adrien.  Because Nathalie is awesome.
+x+
“So you’re the rival Chloe’s told me so much about?”
Marinette floundered a little at the son of her favorite fashion designer, and a supermodel in his own right, stuck his hand out.  “A- Adrien.  You’re Adrien Agreste.”
He winced a little.  “Yeah that’s me.”
Somehow the girl managed to snap herself out of the stupor enough to shake the boy's hand.
“Adrikins,”  Chloe called.  “Come on, I need to show you around before class starts.”
Marinette was in a daze all the way back to Mme. Bustiers class.  She just met Adrien Agreste, the Adrien Agreste.  And she was a total spaz about it.
She sat down in her seat and placed her head on the desk.
She didn’t remember the seat change until Chloe reemerged with her friends in tow.
“Move.”  She told Marinette.
Marinette really didn’t want to do that.  She didn’t want to be next to Adrien where she could potentially embarrass herself more.  If he told his father about the mess of a girl in his class her dreams would be crushed before they even got off the ground.
(It is of course bold of Mari to assume Adrien’s father speaks to his son.)
Maybe- maybe if she was going to stand up for herself as Ladybug, at least until she found a better candidate, then starting as Marinette would help.
“No.”  She said plainly.  “It’s my seat, and I don’t really want to.”
She clenched her hands into her jeans as Chloe raised an eyebrow.
“Whatever.  This isn’t worth my time.”  Chloe sighed like she had just wasted precious hours on that interaction.
Marinette let out a breath she hadn’t known she was holding.
Alya slid into the seat next to her and grinned triumphantly.  “Nice job girl.”
Marinette smiled back, but it was shaky.  She hadn’t slept last night and was really starting to feel it.
“So girl, check this out.”  Alya held up her phone.
On it was a blog template with red and black spots covering it.
“The Ladyblog?”  Marinette read the title at the top.
Alya practically squealed in excitement.  “Isn’t it cool?  Since your’s truly got the best footage on the attack I thought I’d start my own blog.  The one stop spot for everything Ladybug.”
“What about Chat Noir?”  Marinette mused.  “He’s super cool, Ladybug just kinda fumbles around after him.”
“Don’t be like that.”  Alya pushed the girl’s shoulder.  “Ladybug was the one to come up with the plan to save the day both times.  And she saved me today.”
Marinette wished she could point out that Chat Noir had saved Alya twice, but that would reveal that she was there.
“But you are right, I need to think up something good for Chat Noir.”  Alya leaned back.
+x+
(Adrien POV)
Vibing, waiting for the car.  Marinette comes outside and waits too.
Adrien’s like, “Hey.”
And Marinette apologizes for being a spaz.  Explaining that she was just caught off guard and that she didn’t mean to make him uncomfortable.
Adrien explains that he’s pretty used to it, and laments that no matter where he goes people will always know him before ever speaking to him.
“I almost don’t even know how to act in public.  I wanna make friends but- I feel like people will only ever see the boy on the posters.  …  Sorry, that’s kind of a lot to dump on a stranger.”
Marinette paused.  “You shouldn’t have to deal with that.  I can’t change the fact that people know who you are.  But we are still kind strangers.  So- Hi, I’m Marinette Dupain-Cheng.”
He chuckles at her outstretched hand.  “Hello, I’m Adrien Agreste.”  He shakes her hand and smiles.
“So, you’re new to the school?  What do you think of Mme. Bustier?”
(Fu’s POV)
He watches on as Ladybug and Chat Noir meet each other for the first time, again.  Making idle small talk until the same car from before arrives to take Adrien home.
Before getting in the teen hands Marinette his umbrella with a parting goodbye.
Wayzz asks if he came to check in because he questioned Tikki and Plagg’s choice.
Fu admits that he was worried, but he needn’t be.  Those two will help each other, in and out of the mask.  They’ll be okay.
(Ladybug’s POV)
Ladybug meets Chat at the Eiffel tower.
She tells him how much his words of confidence helped her, since she had been so upset about her failure she forgot that mistakes are not the end of everything.  So long as you try and fix them.
She confides that she’s still considering giving up the Ladybug miraculous, since she’s worried her catastrophizing will cause her to be overwhelmed and fail.
“Well m’ lady.  I know a thing or two about Cat-astrophizing.  And if you promise not to give up just yet, then I promise to help keep you from spiraling.  Deal?”
She agrees to keep trying.
END
Okay let's get into the details.
1. Hawkmoth's transformation hurts like a bitch. His head is full on splitting open to make way for the butterfly wings, that's part of his face. He's spending most of his time lying on the floor in too much pain to move until Ivan get's akumatized.
2. Marinette will have the first suit design, with the plain suit and boots. Chat Noir will also have his first design, but his is a bit more interesting than LB's since Adrien has a little more faith in himself.
3. Since I'm overhauling Chloe's personality there was no reason for the gum incident, so I just dropped it all together. There would have been 0 purpose. Instead their rough start is caused by Marinette having a fairly normal reaction to meeting a super model who is also your idol's son. She does feel bad about it later, but Adrien harbored no ill will.
4. Around here is when the crush starts developing, but it's just that. A crush, she has the vague idea that she might like Adrien, but she doesn't know him super well yet.
5. Fu, you bastard. He really does think choosing two legal children is a good idea. I'll partially blame the Order of Guardians, but he knew what he was doing. Children are more likely to believe that they are just "The Chosen Ones" and not question anything, or wonder gave them the miraculous. Tikki and Plagg actually don't like that they had to choose two teenagers, but they aren't going to take that out on the kids. Fu's probably gonna get hot sauce in his tea curtesy of Wayzz for pulling that though.
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starstruck-flames · 9 months
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The Room - Overhaul
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Trapped. Your mentality draining, maybe he’s… not so bad?
A/N: I haven’t… been doing so well. Paranoia and dissociation but it’s nice to use it as some inspiration in my writing. Hopefully you enjoy this as much as I enjoyed indulging in my feelings.
Content includes: descriptions of dissociation, implied Stockholm syndrome, reader has been experimented on, reader has had their quirk removed from them, it’s overhaul it’s OVERHAUL, manipulation, once again it is overhaul.
Song for your mood?
The room is blank, white. The only stimulus being the clean sanitised tiles that surround a small, helpless form. Your eyes flicker between the walls, begging for something, anything new. There was no passage of time, no day, no night; only fluorescent lighting and a slightly warm room. A small door off to the side for your bathroom needs, a small privilege allowed to you by Overhaul.
You sit, simply, quietly with your legs crossed. Basic clothing covers you, a slightly uncomfortable texture. Well. It was actually unbearable, but your skin had settled with it. It’s grating, only white noise in your skull. A bleak reminder that you’re still existing, despite the little amount of life you were living.
Is it even life?
What life is this?
You don’t feel in control of this body, everything felt disconnected and lagging. The body moved practically on its own as it took to a more self soothing position. The only sound in your vicinity was your own pulse against your ears, and even that almost felt like a lie. Feeling… uncomfortable. Like something is wrong, like everything is wrong. Living in this blank room had become second nature but there was always an impending sense of anxiety.
The only time you felt alive in any regard was-
The door quietly clicks, head whipping behind you to see who intruded your pure silence.
“…Good morning,” Comes a bored tone, Overhaul’s head tilting slightly as he takes a slow stride towards your wilting husk. “How are we feeling today?”
You remained silent, simply watching him quietly. Knowing full well that even if he asked, he more than likely didn’t care to acknowledge an answer.
A moment of silence before Overhaul looks over his shoulder to one of his men by the door. “Make a note: Subject has become mute. Most likely by choice,” Piercing gaze returning to you. “You’re not a fast learner but you learn. That’s more than most who’ve been here.”
A blink.
A nervous exhale.
He can read you perfectly, but that’s because you’ve put your psyche on display for him at this point.
Overhaul. The one to fear, the one who holds your life in the balance. That uncomfortable feeling? It becomes screaming fear in his presence.
However, it’s time for the same daily interaction you’d always done. Time for the one piece of a routine you had.
He extends a hand, reaching for you. “Now…”
There had been an established dynamic so far, on his visits you’d practically leapt away from his touch. It’s understandable really, considering how long he’d kept you captive, how long Overhaul had been running tests on every single part of you. However, he couldn’t help but test that line on these days. The days he’d left you waiting, fearing what he’d do next. It was all an experiment realistically, and he had many plans for you.
Quirkless, helpless, and weak; you’re his to poke, prod, and cut, and most importantly? His to observe.
However, today, something new happened.
His hand makes contact with your chin. No flinching, no crying. Just… hesitant obedience.
There’s nothing between the two of you. Pure silence as your face grows unsure, had he wanted a response?
Unable to read his expression, you can only pray you made the right choice. His gloved thumb absentmindedly pressing against the skin.
“Hm. You’ve grown to be…” Tilting his head in thought, he can’t seem to find the word. “Not trusting. Certainly not trusting, I can see your doubt. There’s a change either way.”
He holds it, waiting patiently for anything to change.
Constant.
Your hesitant lack of resistance persists.
His hand moves, the soft texture of white gloves running over your cheek and up to moving a lock from your hair. He’d made sure that out of everything, you’d be cleaned. You’d have a clean space.
Not for your own sake of course.
“You know…” Overhaul’s tone suddenly turns soft, his hand a reminder of that even now? You’re in his hands. For better or worse. “You’ve been very brave. You know this, yes? Your sacrifice, losing that quirk of yours? It’s all to help everyone.”
Remaining silent, your eyes widen, just a little. So simple, just like clay.
“You’re one of my best test subjects.” A small coo as his hand caresses the hair he took care of. “It’d be a shame if I were to ever lose you. I need you. I need you to make a safer world for everyone.”
With that he stands, smiling to himself under the intimidating plague doctor mask. “You’re a smart one, I’m sure you understand.”
The disconnected body… reacted with something new. A harder thud, a new chill running up the arms as Overhaul tilted his head with interest. What is this? A new response? A new interesting development for Overhaul to look into.
He silently decided to keep you around. For now.
If only to discover what he could do to keep more of his experiments around and… capable.
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charcadett · 1 year
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Hi!! Its me 🦀 anon again!! I just wanted to say that the ghost specialist reader hcs were amazing!! ^^ also, may I request a few grusha x reader hcs where the reader has had a lot of near death experiences. Like a very concerning amount? Idk I just thought it would be interesting ^^;
-🦀
AAA I’m so glad you liked them, that’s awesome! Okay, thats is a very cool idea, so I’m excited to get to it. There’s a bit of a discussion of PTSD and helping each other through flashbacks toward the end, so that may be a tad heavy.
Grusha With S/O Whose Had Several Near Death Experiences
- After so many near-death experiences, it’s a bit strange to admit, but your fear of death has lessened significantly. You were lucky to walk away with no lasting physical injuries, though the symptoms of post-traumatic stress are less than ideal. Once was too many times to almost die. After the fourth time, you’ve decided that life is terrifyingly short and death really isn’t as scary as you once thought. You are going to enjoy living as much as possible.
- Dating Grusha is a bit tricky with this mindset. The two of you have reacted to the trauma of your experiences in two completely different ways. Grusha has closed himself off entirely, and you have taken on a come-what-may attitude and have thrown caution to the wind. It will take a lot of mutual communication and understanding for your relationship to work.
- One thing the two of you share is the understanding that neither of you will ever forget. No matter how much either of you tries, that all-encompassing primal fear, the desperate desire to survive, is etched into your very marrow. You know what it’s like to have your breath catch and your heart race because suddenly, for seemingly no reason, you're there again and you’re so afraid.
- In situations like this, Grusha will get you somewhere safe as fast as he can. Home is preferable, but not always an option. He’ll get you something cold to drink and will talk you through your flashback until you’re grounded. If you like physical contact, he’ll hold you as tight as possible. Grusha never dwells and he never makes you feel weak. After, he will smile and ask if you’re going to be okay. He never lets go of your hand.
- When Grusha has a particularly bad flashback, the last thing he wants is to be alone. He prefers something warm to ground him, he can’t be back there if he’s warm. Soothing and repeated motions are the best way to go. Get him a cup of tea and gently run your fingers through his hair until he stops shaking. It helps exponentially and means everything to him. Before you, he was used to coping alone.
- He worries about you almost constantly. It’s not that he doesn’t trust you, it's that he doesn’t trust the universe. He’s convinced you might be the unluckiest person in the world, and he wants nothing more than to wrap you up in bubble wrap. It’ll make him feel better if you take one of his Pokemon with you. If you offer one of your Pokemon to take with him when he goes out, his face will soften as he cradles the ball in his hand like it’s the most precious thing in the world.
- Due to your shared experiences, Grusha feels like you understand him better than anyone. He helps teach you a bit more caution and you help teach him that his life is in no way over. You balance each other out wonderfully.
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brokenjere · 2 years
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Can you write a conrad X reader where the reader has PTSD from sex and shuts down during sex and conrad takes care of her
Thanks or the request friend 💛💛💛
She always lets it go too far. She knows she should make him stop. Say it and he will, she knows but when he kisses the base of her neck and trails his hands down her sides she can’t bring herself to say the word stop.
She wants him, she really does. More than anything. She leans into his mouth, eating up every moan that escapes his lips. She rips off his shirt and devours the hunger in his eyes when he looks down at her at one the bed. Helpless. Vulnerable. Spread open just for him. She can feel him pressed against the inside of her thigh and she presses herself against his body. She wants to be as close to him as possible, she really does.
He kisses her lips and then her cheek. It’s gentle because he makes love to her, he doesn’t fuck her. He told her that the first time they got this far. Her panties were down at her knees and she was nearly in tears. He looked like he was a lost puppy. So confused and scared. “I don’t want to be fucked like all the other girls,” she cried to him. He looked down at her, balancing on his fists at either side of her head, and said: “I’m not going to fuck you. I want to make love to you because unlike ‘all the other girls’ I love you.”
She stopped him then, too. She stops him every time because he gets too close. His breathing starts to bother her and she stiffens up like a board and can’t relax again. She let him try to relax her once. He kissed her entire body until he felt her muscles loosen under his lips but when he tried to move forward, she shut down again. She almost wants to give up trying but when his hair falls in front of his eyes and his face his flushed from the heat of the moment, she can’t give up. Pleasing him makes her happy.
He kisses her lips again and then pulls away. She touches the tips of her fingers to the creases in between his furrowed eyebrows and he kisses the palm of her head but still, his expression is filled with concern. “Are you okay?” He asks. She shakes her head. “Talk to me.”
She never really told him what it felt like to want to do something so badly but your body won’t let you. What it’s like to be in a constant battle between your head and your heart. She can’t articulate those words well enough to make him understand, although she knows he would try to. He’d try really hard. He already has tried and that’s what breaks her heart the most: he does everything he can to make her feel better, but how can she make him feel better?
“I don’t want to talk about it, I’m sorry. Can we stop?” He nods but he doesn’t get off of her. She doesn’t ask him to. His presence isn’t what bothers it, it was comes next. The sex. The intimacy. The aftermath. The leaving. “I don’t know when I’ll get better.”
“It’s not about getting better,” he tells her. Wraps a strand of her hair around his finger and she leans against his arm, fighting the urge to cry. “You’ll be ready when you’re ready. I know what happened to you was horrible and hard and I don’t expect you to just get over it or get better.”
He tries to get her to look at him but she can’t. He presses his palm to her cheek and coaxes eye contact out of her but only for a brief moment. “What do you need from me?” He asks.
“Nothing,” she says. And it’s the truth. She doesn’t need anything more from him because he’s already enough. “It’s not you.”
“I love you. I’m not going to do something you don’t want to do or make you do something you’re not ready for. And I’m going to be here when you do decide you’re ready.” She believes him so she just nods and lets him kiss her. She kisses him back and she tells him she loves him without speaking out loud and he tells her he loves her back. When he finally manages to break away from her, he tells her he’s going to be right back. She feels naked, cold, and ashamed while she waits for him but the moment he enters the room again, all of that goes away.
He hands her a cold glass of water and from behind his back, her favorite chocolate bar. “For you.” She smiles and takes it gratefully. He kisses her forehead and lays back down beside her with his arm draped over her middle. “I love you,” he whispers in her ear before placing a kiss on her ear lobe.
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