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theemporium · 3 months

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[4.1k] as promised, jack throws luke a belated birthday party before the season kicks off. except, luke gets more surprises than he bargained for. (smut)

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“I don’t get why we have to do this.”

“I’m just following instructions.”

“I already know Jack is throwing a party, there is no surprise.”

“I know. You have said it thirteen times since we left the apartment.”

Luke shot the older defenceman a look, his face blank and unimpressed. It had been bad enough that Jack had barged into his room at an ungodly hour on their off day, rambling away so fast that it took Luke a few minutes to even realise what he was saying. He had clothes thrown at his face and told he had fifteen minutes to get out of the house before he was dragged out.

He was only mildly surprised to find John waiting outside their apartment complex, two coffees held in his hands and looking just as thrilled as Luke to be awake so early. And just like Luke, he had been given close to no instructions on what to do, other than keep Luke out of their apartment until everything was ready.

Whenever that would be.

“I don’t get why we couldn’t just hang out at yours.” Luke said, leaning back against the hood of the car as he shovelled the ice cream around the small tub he was holding. “Or why he demanded I spend the day acting like a seven year old.”

“To say goodbye to your youth before you turn twenty,” John replied.

Luke frowned. “I’m already twenty.”

“Semantics,” John shrugged.

Luke stared at his teammate for a few moments, letting the silence envelope them. He got along well with John, probably better than some of the older teammates. He didn’t want to say it to anyone else—like Jack or Quinn or his parents—but it was a little intimidating. He wasn’t the youngest guy in the team, and he knew he had others his age. But sometimes, the older defenceman were just…a little intense.

He knew they meant well. He knew they only wanted to help and guide. But it was hard to believe the words they were saying when it was still pre-season, when Luke still felt like he had to prove himself on the ice, even after playoffs.

But John was a nice middle. He wasn’t old but he was experienced. He understood it a little better than some of the others. Luke might have even gone as far to say that John had been the closest thing to an actual friend that he felt on the team, like somebody he thinks would genuinely hang out with him outside of team hangouts and post-game pub crawls.

Luke’s eyes narrowed in suspicion at the older boy. “Do you know what Jack is planning?”

He could see the beginnings of a smirk tugging on John’s lips.

Luke pointed his little spoon in accusation. “You do!”

“Eat your ice cream, Luke.”

“Surely I get birthday boy privileges or something.”

John’s face broke out into a full blown grin. “Thought you were already twenty? Not technically the birthday boy then, are you?”

Luke only rolled his eyes as the boy beside him cackled, but there was the makings of a smile on his face too.

…

He had made the mistake of underestimating a Jack Hughes’ party.

Luke knew what his brother was like. He knew how his mind worked and how he thought and how he acted. He knew just what certain words and phrases really meant. He knew the kinds of tricks Jack tended to have up his sleeve.

He had ranted to John about as much all day. He had warned you about the same.

He was fully equipped to be prepared with whatever was on the other side of the door.

And yet, Luke still found himself standing frozen in shock when he opened the apartment door to so many fucking people screaming happy birthday at him. More people than he ever considered possibly fitting into their apartment.

Every surface had more bottles of alcohol on them than he could count, there were balloons and other decorations taped to the wall, and he was pretty sure he saw a fucking keg hidden amongst the crowd.

It was the most Jack Hughes kind of thing to throw him a party that resembled a frat party, more than a fucking birthday party. He shouldn’t have been surprised and he still was because, honestly, he didn’t think it would be much bigger than the team and their partners and some extra friends.

Luke didn’t think he knew half the people in his house right now. Maybe more than half.

And still, staring at the large group of people, he couldn’t help but let his eyes wander over the crowd as if he would be able to spot you in seconds.

But he couldn’t.

Instead, Jack was dragging him into the apartment with a shove and a big smile. He had a drink pushed into his hands seconds later, more people wishing him a happy birthday and the overwhelming realisation that his social butterfly brother was going to drag him around to meet every single stranger currently in his house.

And as much as he wanted to claim it was horrible—and it kind of was, socially—Jack undoubtedly knew how to throw a great party.

He was in the middle of listening to some retelling of a goal from a game that Luke didn’t even care about when he felt his phone buzz in his pocket. He glanced around him, everyone far too focused on the storytelling before he slipped his phone out. He wished he was embarrassed with the way his smile grew when he saw it was from you.

cherry🍒: which room is yours?

cherry🍒: please answer quick before i break into your brother’s room

Luke pressed his lips together, trying to resist the urge to smile or laugh.

hockey boy: is there a reason you’re trying to sneak into my room?

It didn’t even take a few seconds after he pressed send for you to respond.

cherry🍒: stop being a smart ass and tell me which one

cherry🍒: otherwise i guess jack gets your present

And it was stupid, really. He didn’t know what you got him. It could be a card for all he knew, and he would be grateful for it regardless. But still, something about the implication of your words made his cheeks flush in response.

And something quite possessive bubbled in his chest at the idea of anyone else being in his position.

It was his gift, after all. He had every right to feel possessive over it. Or, at least, that was what he told himself as he quickly responded.

hockey boy: second door on the left

He watched the bubbles appear on his screen, let the seconds pass painfully until your message came through.

cherry🍒: come and get your present, birthday boy ;)

He stared at the text for a lot longer than he cared to admit before he was snapped out of his thoughts, feeling someone’s pointy elbow digging into his side. His head snapped up, finding Jesper staring at him with a slightly concerned look.

“You good? Your face has gone red.”

He could almost feel his cheeks burn hotter in response.

“Uh, yeah,” Luke cleared his throat and gave the older boy a slightly strained smile. “I must’ve drank a little more than I expected. I’m just gonna go splash my face and I’ll be back.”

Jesper’s brows furrowed together. “You sure? I can go get Jack—”

“No, no,” Luke quickly reassured him, giving his shoulder a small pat and squeeze before he took a step away from the crowd. “Promise I’m all good. Just need to freshen up.”

Jesper didn’t look convinced but Luke didn’t give him much time to say anything else before he rushed off.

He kept his head down, trying to avoid eye contact and getting dragged into conversations as best as he could. He gave polite smiles when he could, pushing through the crowd of people without a second thought before he made it to the corridor that led off to the bedrooms.

It was quieter, which was expected with most of the guests in the main communal areas but Luke didn’t give much thought to them or anything else as he made a beeline for his room.

His heart was thundering in his chest as he reached for the door, quickly sliding inside and shutting the door with a heavy sigh before he finally turned around. He leaned back against the door, taking in the sight of you casually sitting on his bed like it was the most normal thing in the world.

Maybe because, for some reason that was beyond his own understanding, it was.

You sitting on his bed, leaning back against your hands as you grinned at him. Your white dress was a stark contrast against his navy blue sheets, resting around mid-thigh and it drove him crazy. Almost as crazy as the cherry red lipstick did.

“Happy birthday, Hughes.”

His nose scrunched. “You can’t call me that when my brother is under the same roof.”

You snorted. “Aw, you know you’re my favourite.”

Luke didn’t bite back his smile this time. “Is that my birthday present?”

You grinned back, patting the spot on the bed next to you. “Why don’t you come find out?”

He barely had a chance to sit on the bed before your hands were on him, fingers lightly tugging on his curls as you pressed a smacking kiss onto his cheek with a cheesy grin.

“Happy birthday, Luke.”

He huffed out a laugh, turning to look at you with an elated expression. “Thanks, Cherry,” he murmured, almost shyly as your fingers remained in his hair, playing with his curls like it was instinctive. “How are you enjoying the party?”

Your lips twitched upwards. “Your brother sure would’ve made a great frat boy.”

“It’s his true calling,” Luke joked.

“And you’re a popular boy,” you commented.

His cheeks flushed. “Oh no…I…I don’t know half of them, to be honest. Maybe even more than that.”

Something glinted in your eyes and you smiled at him. “So I’m one of the lucky few people who actually know the birthday boy?”

He swallowed. “One of the few, yeah.”

“I’m honoured,” you hummed, tilting your head to the side. “I’m guessing you won’t be missed if I keep you up here for a bit, then?”

He blinked, staring at you for a few seconds before he remembered he had to respond. “Uh, yeah, no. We can…we can stay here for a bit. Or a while. Or however long you want.”

You tucked your lip between your teeth. “Good. Get comfortable.”

His eyes widened a little. “Huh?”

“Get comfortable, Luke,” you repeated, something quite like pride blooming in your chest as you watched his face blush in response. “Need to give you your birthday present.”

“Oh,” he murmured before he realised. “Oh! Right, I—”

Luke glanced at you for a second, seeing if you were going to give him any hint on what was happening but you just smiled at him. He cleared his throat, almost embarrassed by the way his dick twitched in response before he shuffled back onto the bed until his back was pressed against the headboard.

“Is this okay?”

“Perfect, baby, always so perfect for me,” you murmured, not wasting any time as you began to crawl towards him.

He gulped a little, watching you like he was completely entranced. He expected you to swing your leg over his lap, to feel your thighs on either side of him as you settled yourself on him. He waited for you to be close enough before he could reach out, before he could pull you closer. He itched to have his hands on you.

But you crawled until you were kneeling beside him, your knees brushing against his thigh and hand on his stomach—but it still didn’t feel close enough for his liking.

Yet, when he opened his mouth to speak, you were already leaning forward to kiss him.

The way he moaned in relief the second he felt your lips on his was almost pathetic, but Luke couldn’t bring himself to care. You shifted in your spot before your free hand cupped his cheek, guiding his head so you could deepen the kiss with a swipe of your tongue against his lips.

He parted his lips with no hesitation.

“Hm, good boy,” you hummed, your breath tickling against his lips and it made his cock strain in his jeans.

“Always for you,” he responded, almost like it was instinctive. It took a few seconds for his brain to catch up, for his body to flush in realisation.

But he could feel your smile widen against his lips and it made it worth it.

You pulled back, panting softly as your hooded eyes took him in. Your gaze glanced over every inch of his face before they lingered on his lips. Your eyes darkened and your lips twitched as your hand moved to cup his jaw, to let your thumb slowly swipe over his lips.

“Cherry red looks good on you, baby,” you commented, and it was only then he noticed how smudged your own lipstick looked.

“Might give you a run for your money,” he retorted, his voice a little lower and rougher than it was moments ago.

“Hm, I bet you could.”

He gulped a little, the blood roaring in his ears as he felt the anticipation of your next move crackle under his skin like lightning waiting to strike. He watched you closely like he was scared to miss something, like this would all end if he looked away.

“Relax, Luke,” you said in a softer voice, the hand on his stomach lightly fisting the material of his shirt. “You trust me, right?”

He nodded.

“And you’ll tell me if you wanna stop?”

He nodded again.

“Good,” you murmured before you were leaning in again. “Then sit back and enjoy your present, birthday boy.”

And every other coherent thought Luke had in his brain went completely out the window as you leaned in to kiss him again.

There was the distant thumping bass sounding from the main room that made him feel like he was back to the party just over a month ago. When he was in the small bathroom with you, feeling just as hot and flushed as he did now but for very different reasons. And if he didn’t have your tongue in his mouth, he was sure he would have appreciated how poetic it all felt.

But he really, really couldn’t bring his brain to do anything except focus on you, you, you.

A needy noise sounded from the back of his throat as your hand on his stomach travelled downwards, as the heel of your palm pushed against the bulge in his jeans.

“So responsive,” you murmured between kisses as you continued to palm him over his jeans.

He felt breathless, his brain feeling fuzzy and his body feeling overwhelmed as he desperately tried to keep up with you, to kiss you back, to not buck his hips like he desperately wanted to do.

“This okay?”

He sighed, nodding his head.

You hand paused, and he almost whined in response, before your fingers paused at the button of his jeans. “Still okay?”

He nodded again.

“Words, baby. I know you can use them for me.”

“Yeah, still okay,” he managed to get out between gritted teeth, almost sounding wounded as he felt your fingers circle his button before slowly popping it undone. He let out a staggered, heavy breath as your hand slid into his jeans, until the warmth of your palm squeezed his cock over his boxers. “Oh, fuck.”

“Shhh, can’t be too loud, baby,” you murmured, watching the way his head slumped back against the headboard with a thump. “Not when they can hear you.”

“There’s music,” he defended weakly, his eyes fluttering shut as you slowly began to stroke his clothed cock.

“Your pretty noises are louder,” you teased, unable to help yourself as you leaned forward to press a kiss to the hollow of his neck. “Help me get these off, yeah?”

Luke could only find it within himself to nod and lift his hips to help shuffle the fabric of his jeans and boxers to pool just above his knees. “Please.”

“No need to beg this time,” you assured the boy, pressing another kiss just under his jaw. “Gonna give the birthday boy what he wants.”

He blinked his eyes open, expecting to find you staring back at him. Instead, your focus was on his exposed dick, resting against his stomach. He swallowed a little, suddenly self-conscious and painfully aware that despite the amount of times you had made him come, this was the first time he had ever…well…it was the first time you had ever seen his dick.

He opened his mouth, but no words came out. Nothing except a noise mixed between a moan and a whimper as your thumb traced over the slit on his head.

“Pretty boy, pretty cock,” you commented casually, like your thumb wasn’t spreading the small beads of precome over the head of his cock.

“Cherry,” he breathed out, fighting the urge to clench his eyes shut. “Fuck. Please.”

“I like when you say my name like that,” you confessed, turning to look at his flushed cheeks and glossy eyes that were already staring back at you. You never once looked away from him as you raised your thumb to your mouth, wrapping your lips around it.

He gritted his teeth together. “Shit.”

The eye contact remained as you licked the palm of your hand before reaching down to stroke his cock again, no layers of fabric acting as a barrier anymore. Just your warm, wet palm slowly pumping the length of his hard cock, in his fucking bedroom when a whole party of guests celebrating him were just god-knows how many feet away.

“Fuck, yes,” he moaned out, slumping back against the headboard again as you continued to stroke his cock. His eyes fluttered shut as a small voice in the back of his head muttered about how much better it felt when it wasn’t his own hand.

“That’s it, baby, just sit back and enjoy,” you whispered, closing the distance between your lips and his neck once again. Your breath tickled along the column of his neck, sending small shivers through his body as he tried not to twitch his hips.

“Feels good,” he managed to blurt out.

He could feel your smile against his skin. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he nodded hopelessly, his hands fisting the duvet on either side of him. “So good.”

“Hm,” you hummed in amusement, your teeth lightly nipping a spot just before his ear. “You gonna last long, baby?”

He shook his head, whimpering.

“Gonna be a good boy and come for me?”

He nodded without a second of hesitation.

And then he felt your lips against his ear, your breath warm and your voice sultry as you whispered, “then come for me, Luke.”

And he fucking shattered.

White, hot pleasure exploded through him. He could feel it in every nerve in his body, from the tip of his fingers to the end of his toes. He could feel the rush down his spine, the spots dotting his vision as he tried to ground his bearings. He could feel his cock twitching in your palm as he came, as ropes of his come exploded over your hand and his thighs and stomach.

“Holy shit,” he breathed out, chest heaving with soft pants as he took a few moments before he turned his head to look at you.

“Like your birthday present?” You asked with an innocent smile.

Luke snorted, not replying as he leaned forward to press his lips against yours. It felt like the natural response and you didn’t seem to push him away.

When he pulled back, he reached for a box of tissues and handed you a few to clean yourself up whilst he did the same. It was only thirty seconds of silence before he opened his mouth to say something, his brain still fuzzy and the oddest urge to say ‘thank you’ on the tip of his tongue when he heard familiar voices on the other side of his door.

“Nah, I swear Jack said his room was to the right.”

“He said left, dipshit.”

“No, he definitely said right.”

Luke’s eyes widened as he turned to look at you, a sudden burst of adrenaline and panic ridding him of whatever post-orgasm brain fog he was experiencing seconds ago. “Get under the bed.”

You blinked. “What—”

“Get under the bed now,” Luke hissed as he quickly scrambled to pull his boxers and jeans up.

You listened to him, despite his confusion, as you quickly slid off his bed and crawled underneath the frame. You disappeared just as the door to his room burst open and Luke was met with three very familiar faces grinning at him.

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY, LUKEY!”

Despite hearing their voices, the shock of seeing three of his closest friends didn’t hit him until they were standing right in front of him. His heart was still thundering in his chest and his brain still felt a little delayed, but the smile on his face was genuine as he took in the sight of Mark, Ethan and Rutger.

“What the fuck are you guys doing here?” Luke retorted, shuffling off his bed. He contemplated hugging them before remembering what had just occurred seconds ago and thought better of it.

“You really think we were gonna miss your birthday?” Ethan asked with a scoff.

“I mean, it was a few weeks ago…”

Rutger lightly punched his arm. “Don’t be a dick, we just flew from Michigan to be here.”

Luke raised his brows in surprise. “You did?”

“We wouldn’t have missed it for the world, bud,” Mark replied, a softer smile on his face. “You may have hit the big leagues but you can’t get rid of us.”

He swallowed back the lump in his throat, an odd pang of homesickness in his heart craving to be a college student in Michigan once again. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

“I think the better question is why the fuck you are hiding at your own party,” Ethan spoke up, slapping his arm around Luke’s shoulders before he began guiding him to the door. “Your brother splurged on a shit ton of booze downstairs, we should be taking advantage of that.”

“And kicking their asses in beer pong,” Mark added with a grin.

“Let’s fucking go!” Rutger whooped, already the first one out the door with the expectation of the others to follow.

“Gonna embarrass them all,” Ethan grinned, turning his head to look at Luke before he frowned a little. “Hey, what’s that on your neck?”

Luke’s eyes widened as his hand instantly came up to his neck, as though he would be able to feel the lipstick staining his skin. “Uh…it’s…a rash.”

Ethan’s brows furrowed together. “Damn, really? It kinda looks—”

“Are you two coming or what?”

Ethan rolled his eyes. “We’re coming!”

“Hurry up or Mark’s my partner in beer pong!”

Ethan scoffed, his mouth parting in offence. “Absolutely not—”

Luke didn’t get much of a chance to say anything else before Ethan and the others all but dragged him back into the party. The guilt of leaving you in his room swirled inside him, but he waited until the boys were distracted before he managed to slip his phone out of his pocket.

hockey boy: i am so sorry about that

hockey boy: i didn’t mean to leave you like that

hockey boy: i feel like a dickhead

His lip was tucked between his teeth as the typing bubbles appeared.

cherry🍒: don’t worry about it, luke

cherry🍒: have fun with your friends

cherry🍒: hope you liked your birthday present ;)

His cheeks burned but he grinned down at his phone.

hockey boy: don’t think anything can top it

He paused for a few moments, glancing up to find his friends still lost in some debate on who was gaining Mark as their beer pong partner before his focus shifted back to his phone. With some lingering confidence and the shots Ethan made him do as soon as they left his room in his system, he found himself typing and hitting send before he could over think it all.

hockey boy: next time i get to make you come

hockey boy: it’s only fair

Luke watched as your response came in soon after.

cherry🍒: maybe you can show me how good you really are with those hands of yours

#luke hughes #nhl #new jersey devils #luke hughes x reader #luke hughes x you #luke hughes x y/n #luke hughes fic #luke hughes one shot #luke hughes smut #nhl x reader #nhl x you #nhl x y/n #nhl fic #nhl one shot #nhl smut

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transmutationisms · 10 months

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I have always been wary of the psychiatric industry, but its only very recently that i started to read anti-psychiatric works. Your blog is the first time i saw that the "chemical imbalances causing mental illness" is a myth, and honestly its something im having a hard time wrapping my head around.

Is it that mood regulation struggles, labelled as a mental illnesses, has more to do with outside factors instead of the person "just being that way"? Is it therefore unlikely for someone to have struggles with mood regulation if they cant identify any external causes that would cause them to be, for example, extremely agoraphobic or to have anger management issues? Im asking this for myself mainly, cause i always had intense agoraphobia no matter how i often go outside my home (in fact it was worse when i was a teen and i was outside the house in even more back then). I cant think of any reason for me to be like this than chemical imbalances in my brain.

the specific 'chemical imbalance' myth i was talking about in this post is the idea that depression is caused by low serotonin, and that therefore SSRIs—serotonin re-uptake inhibitors, ie drugs that cause a higher level of serotonin in the brain—ought to cure or at least ameliorate depression. this conjecture is belied by the fact that SSRIs don't, at a population level, reliably perform better than placebo.

although a neurobiological cause of 'mental illness' has long been the holy grail of psychiatry, the serotonin imbalance myth is far from the only hypothesis that psychiatrists and neuroscientists have proposed. so, a critique of the serotonin myth is not synonymous with, or generalisable to, a critique of every neurobiological mechanism purported to explain psychiatric diagnoses. you may be interested to know, though, that genomics and neuroscience have not identified a biological cause of any psychiatric diagnosis (p. 851).

all human experiences are biologically instantiated, including in the brain and wider nervous system. we are embodied beings. however, it is a leap to assume that such instantiation is automatically equivalent to a causal explanation or disease etiology. in other words, to deny that psychiatric diagnoses are known to be biologically caused does not mean we deny that thoughts and thought patterns express in the physical matter of neuroanatomy. this is a major philosophical sticking point to keep in mind whenever you're looking at something like, eg, a study that purports to show 'brain differences' in those assigned a certain psychiatric diagnosis. another thing to consider is whether these papers are plagued with methodological issues or financial conflicts of interest.

i can't possibly tell you why you exhibit agoraphobia. however, when i talk about social, economic, and environmental factors that may contribute to the patterns of behaviour labelled as 'mental illness', i'm talking about much more than the individual choice to leave your house. since phobias are 'anxiety disorders', i might start by probing into questions like: is the world you live in safe? do you perceive it as safe? do you or your community face existential threats that may confront you more obviously when you go outside? are you nervous around other people, and if so, might that be connected to fears (well-founded or not) about interpersonal violence and harm? do you think any of these anxieties may be connected to the hostility and inaccessible design of the social environment and economic conditions?

human behaviour and thought varies. some of those variations may be totally benign; others may be helpful or harmful to the person living with them. it would be weird if every single one of the 8 billion people on earth experienced precisely the same amount of anxiety about any situation, no? all of this is to say: yeah, it's entirely possible you have been, for one reason or another (genetic, neuroanatomical, social, &c) predisposed to experience high, even debilitating levels of anxiety when leaving your home. most human characteristics develop from a tangle of social, environmental, material causes—ie, from a combination of 'nature' and 'nurture'. what doesn't follow, though, is the claim that there is therefore a discrete, 'diseased' element of your brain or brain functioning that can simply be cured or eliminated through psychiatric intervention.

it is a critical point of anti-psychiatry to challenge psychiatric and neuroscientific claims to neurobiological determinism where psychiatric diagnoses are concerned. this is for many reasons, including: a) that these claims have not been demonstrated to actually be true [see above]; b) that they rob pathologised people of agency and self-determination [see: you're too sick to know you're sick, and the doctor will fix you now]; c) that they are often pushed by pharmaceutical companies with financial interests, or grant-funded researchers with... financial interests; d) that they are politically seductive in various eugenic, hereditarian discourses that seek to eliminate the biologically 'unfit' element from society.

#psychiatry

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pink-sparkly-witch · 8 months

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All She Wants, Part Three (Finale)

Summary: Dean’s experience with the wrong hormone suppressants makes him feral. The only person who can get him out of it and save his life is Y/N, the omega he had been mating with for years until she left six months ago. Without a claim and with no prospects of Dean ever giving her one, Y/N finally had enough and broke the bond they’d forged in their years together and left him, but with Sam now begging her to go to Dean and save his life, will she go, or will she leave the green-eyed alpha to his biological fate?

Pairing: Alpha!Dean Winchester x Female Omega!Reader

Rating: 18+ Only

Bingo Square: Alpha Gone Feral for @j3bingo

Warnings: tw: dub con claiming, omegaverse, A/B/O, A/B/O dynamics, language, ruts, feral alpha, agitation, aggression, smut, rough sex, biting, oral sex (f rec), fingering, p in v sex, hair pulling, heavy angst, aftercare, fluff

Word Count: 4.1k

A/N: Here we go… the super angsty finale of this alpha!Dean mini-series! I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Please consider reblogging to spread this far and wide around this Hellsite, or leave a little comment. It really does fuel our muse. If you’re too shy or too cool for people to know you read fanfic and you don’t want it showing on your blog, you can submit an anonymous ask or drop me a DM 💖

You can catch up here!

My Masterlist AO3 Ko-Fi

Y/N’S POV

The knocking on your motel room door startles you, and you grab your gun from the waistband of your jeans and cautiously step towards the door. Flicking the safety off, you place the barrel onto the wood and cautiously open it just enough to see who’s on the other side.

“Sam? Cas?” you gasp, throwing the door open wider.

“You should be more careful, Y/N. We could be demons or shapeshifters or any other kind of monster,” Cas speaks first, and you blink at him, amused, as always, by his directness.

“Nice to see you, too, Cas,” you smirk, opening the door wider to let them in.

“Hey, Y/N,” Sam says as he leans down to hug you. “It’s good to see you.”

“You too, Sam,” you smile as you close the door behind them. You know whatever this unplanned visit is, it’s about Dean.

“You seem healthy,” Cas states, tilting his head to the side and frowning as if searching for something. “And yet—”

“So!” Sam interrupts quickly. “How have you been?”

“Fine…” You narrow your eyes at the alpha’s strange behaviour. “This isn’t a social visit, is it?” You finally ask.

“No,” Cas confirms, and you don’t know if you’re glad he’ll get straight to the point or if you’d prefer Sam to dance around it all a little more.

“Dean.” It’s not a question. It’s a statement. You knew from the way your stomach dropped the second you saw them that this wasn’t a good news visit.

“I asked Cas to find you,” Sam said softly.

You and the younger Winchester have stayed in touch since you left the bunker, but you agreed you wouldn’t tell him where you were, and he wouldn’t ask. It was one thing for Dean to find out they were talking, but it’d be another entirely if he knew Sam knew where she was.

“What happened?” Your mind goes to the worst possible scenario, and you try to fight the rising nausea.

“Dean has been taking store bought suppressants,” Sam says, and you feel your blood boil.

“What? Why? Why would he be so goddamn stupid? Did he know what they’d do to an alpha in his situation?” you fume at the men as you pace the threadbare carpet.

“No. He knew they weren’t suitable long-term, but the side effects he experienced weren’t typical,” Cas answered.

“I thought it was a mix of the drugs and rejection sickness and that it’d ease over time,” Sam says calmly and quietly. “But I think he suffered some kind of chemical reaction to them, and by the time I found out what he was taking, it was too late.”

“Too late? Sam, what are you saying?” You’re terrified of what he’s so anxious to tell you.

“He’s feral, Y/N,” Cas finally puts you out of your misery, and while it’s bad news, it’s not the worst thing they could’ve told you. “But I don’t understand why you are not.”

It’s not an accusation. The angel is just curious about alphas who mate with but don’t claim omegas. To his literal knowledge, an alpha finds an omega, they mate, there’s a claim, an unbreakable bond, and pups. Your situation with Dean had always intrigued the celestial being.

“Because I’ve been taking the suppressants I should. Prescribed by a doctor. Why didn’t he do the same thing?” Contrary to the angel’s question, yours is accusatory as you look between Sam and Cas.

“You know what he’s like, Y/N. He doesn’t talk about these things, and I didn’t know until a few days ago. He’s been overcome with guilt for how he treated you, and I think…” Sam trails off, noticing from the look on your face that you know what he was alluding to.

“You think this is some kind of self-sacrifice?” you ask in disbelief. Dean is well known for his self-depreciation, and it’s something you’ve seen and heard from him many times, but this? “No… No, I don’t believe that. Why would he put himself through that just to go feral anyway? Why not just lie down and let it happen on its own?”

“You really want me to answer that?” Sam asks, and you frown.

“Sam, you can’t be serious! Dean is not doing this to punish himself for hurting me. There’s no way,” you argue, but you know the green-eyed alpha better than he knows himself. It does sound like something he’d do to himself—some kind of fucked up repentance for his behaviour.

Sam only shrugs, and you sigh, knowing you’ve both come to the same conclusion.

“So, what? You want me to go to him? Get him out of this mess?”

“You’re his mate. Only you can get him back from this,” Cas says, and you laugh bitterly, taking the angel by surprise.

“I bet Dean loves that!” you scoff. “Anytime I told him that like it or not, we’re mates, he shot me down in flames!”

“I know he hurt you, and I can’t imagine how hard this is for you, and Dean knows it too. He told me not to look for you. That he doesn’t deserve your help, but I’m asking you to think about it. Please?”

“I don’t know, Sam. If I go to him, you know what it means, right?” you check, not convinced either of them fully understand what they’re asking of you.

“I do,” Sam responds.

“And you know it’s pretty much a done deal that he’ll claim me in his feral haze? And then when he comes to, he’ll regret it and reject me? You’re asking me to sacrifice myself for him? Because I won’t survive his rejection, you both know that, right?”

“He’d never reject you, Y/N,” Cas confirms what you know in your heart, but it brings no comfort.

“Oh, because a forced claim and being stuck with someone who doesn’t want me is a better fate than dying from rejection!”

“He does want you. He loves you. He just can’t—” Sam starts, but you interrupt with a scoff.

“Give me what I want. I know, Sam. He’s told me that so many times it’s imprinted in my memory!” You huff, quickening your pacing.

You want to say no. You want to protect yourself and your fragile heart that’s still trying to heal, but you know if you were the feral one, Dean would already be here, doing everything he could to get you through it—even claiming you just so you’d survive.

He doesn’t deserve to die, and yet, you don’t deserve to be someone’s mistake, but you can’t see any other option. If you don’t go to him, he’ll die. If you go to him, and he doesn’t reject you, you’ll be miserable, but you’ll both be alive.

“Fuck!” you yell in frustration. Once again, you feel that self-loathing that only Dean seems able to bring out of you. You hate yourself because you still love him even after everything, and you’d sacrifice everything to save him.

“Where is he?”

Walking up to the secluded cabin, you shiver at the deathly silence surrounding you. As if being this deep in the woods isn’t ominous enough, there isn’t even a bird chirping or an insect buzzing in the heavy air.

You’re so deep in the woods that the midday sun can’t even breach the trees. You drove as close as you could, but you’d had to abandon your car about a mile back. This is probably the safest house Bobby had ever found, and you have to admire Dean for choosing this one to hide out in.

Sam had given you the key. At first, you’d been shocked he’d lock Dean in with no way to escape, but you knew feral alphas aren’t to be taken lightly. There had been cases of ferals going on murder sprees, and the green-eyed hunter would never risk putting people in any kind of danger.

“Dean?” you call out as you knock on the door. “It’s Y/N. Sam found me. He said you need my help.” With no response, you take a deep breath, preparing yourself for being too late, and put the key in the lock.

Pushing the door open slowly, the sour smell of Dean’s feral rut slams into you, and immediately your body begins to respond to the distressed alpha. Your skin tingles, heat floods your veins, and slick pools at your entrance. You’ve never been more grateful for a heat to come on as you are now. If it didn’t, Dean could seriously hurt or even kill you trying to get himself out of this.

“Omega,” Dean growls from the doorway of the bedroom and with one look at his bloodshot eyes, you know there’s little to no humanity in him right now.

“Alpha,” you whimper and bow your head in submission.

“Mine,” he groans in front of you, and you jump, having not heard him move across the room.

Dean buries his head in your neck and inhales your scent, gasping as if he’d been suffocating, and your scent is his oxygen.

“My ‘mega,” Dean snarls and slams you against the wooden door. You whimper at the pain and remind yourself not to fight. If you fight, things could get ugly.

Pawing at your jeans, he tries to undo them, but in his desperation to get at you, he can’t grasp the little brass button and punches the wall next to your head in frustration.

“Hey,” you purr, placing a hand on his cheek and smiling as he leans into your touch, “It’s okay, Alpha. Let me.”

Loosening the button and pulling the zipper down, you kick off your shoes, slide the denim from your legs and step out of them. Moving to your shirt, you begin pulling at the material when Dean slaps your hands away.

“No!” he growls. “Mine.”

Dean isn’t gentle when he claws at your shirt, grabbing the neckline with both hands and ripping the cotton from your body. The groan that rumbles from his belly when your lace-covered breasts are exposed to his gaze has slick soaking through your underwear.

He wastes no time placing his lips on the tops of your breasts, biting and sucking the sensitive skin, marking you in a way he never has before. Dean pulls the cups of your bra down and quickly finds a hard nipple, and you groan from his overzealous assault.

You whine as the alpha pulls away from you, but before you can complain further, Dean lifts you on his shoulder and carries you to the bedroom.

“Strip,” he orders as he places you back on your feet, and you don’t dare disobey or take your time removing your bra and panties.

“Good girl,” he praises as he takes his clothes off, and you wonder if just being here is making him a little less feral. “Get on the bed, Omega.”

Again, you don’t dare take your time and quickly crawl onto the bed and wait for his next instruction. Dean kneels at the bottom of the bed, pulls you down by your ankles, and pushes your knees down to the mattress.

“Mine,” he growls as the scent of your slick reaches him, and he lowers his head between your legs. He’s not gentle, anything but, and his longer stubble scratches and jabs at your soft, sensitive skin. It’s sore, yet you quickly fall apart on his mouth.

Before you fully come down from your high, Dean’s fingers are inside you, and he’s sucking and biting his way up your body. When this is over, your skin will be an interesting spectrum of colour; you can already see patches of red on your breasts from earlier, and Dean’s not done with them yet as he goes back to sucking and biting your nipples.

As your forced heat takes over, the pain from Dean’s bites and rough hands ease, and all you can feel and hear now is desire and pleasure and growls and snarls, and Dean, mumbling mine over and over again while his teeth nip at your neck.

“Present, Omega,” Dean growls as he pulls back from your body just enough to let you turn around. You crawl further up the bed and lean forward onto your elbows. You unintentionally wiggle your ass as you get comfortable in your new position, making Dean growl deeply and spank your round cheeks.

You feel his hands slide up your thighs and over your ass. His touch soothes and cools your heated skin. When he finally slams into your slick, aching pussy, it’s hard, rough, and deliciously painful.

Dean is fully feral, and there’ll be no stopping him until he comes out of the rut in five or six days. You know it won’t be pretty, and you won’t come out of this unscathed. At least your heat is making you feel like a wanton whore.

As your humanity is overtaken by omega, much like Dean’s is with alpha, your last thought is being grateful for being in a cabin in the middle of the woods, in the middle of nowhere.

It’s been six days, and Dean still pounds into you like there’s no tomorrow. Your heat is starting to wane, but hasn’t subsided so much that you won’t still be pliable under his hands. Still, at least the heat fog is beginning to lift, and you hope it’s a sign that Dean’s rut is finally ending.

It took four knots to get him out of his feral state, but his rut is intense, and he’s insatiable. You suppose the combination of suppressants and being feral will do that to an alpha.

“‘Mega,” Dean grunts as his hand slides up your spine and grips your neck. “So good for me, baby girl.”

His praise makes you purr, and you feel his hand slide from your neck into your hair and wrap his fist around it, making your body turn to jelly. Dean tugs your hair, and you’re forced to raise to your knees, your back pressed against his chest, and he pulls your head to the side by your hair, exposing your neck to him.

It’s already black and blue from the gnawing he’s been doing there this past week, but this is different. He’s scenting you and licking your mating gland and whining. Dean loves licking and kissing your neck, but not like this. It feels different. There’s a change in the atmosphere, and his thrusts are brutal and stuttered.

You try to move, try and get him away from you, but he snarls and yanks your hair painfully, keeping a hold of it so you can’t move.

“Dean,” you whimper, and he snarls again at the use of his name, and you know he’s not as far out of this rut as you’d hoped. “Alpha, please,” you beg, but it’s useless. He’s too far gone again. His mouth is sucking on your mating gland, and he’s growling and grunting as his knot swells and catches at your entrance.

“Please don’t do it, Alpha. It’s just the rut. You don’t want this… you don’t want me, please!” you cry. But as his knot slips inside, locking you together, your head falls back on his shoulder, and when his teeth break your skin, you scream your release and lose the little self-control you had earlier.

Coming down from your high, you notice that Dean is still latched onto you, and you can feel blood dripping down your neck. The sudden rush of hormones and pheromones from the claim makes you reach another orgasm, and this time, you take the alpha with you. Grunting and growling, Dean’s release coats your walls, and you let the blackness take over.

When you come to, you’re on your side, and Dean is cleaning and soothing the wound on your neck with gentle licks and soft kisses. You’re still locked together, and every twitch of his cock catches your G-spot and fills your womb with even more of his seed.

A brief thought that he could’ve gotten you pregnant crosses your mind, and you hope the fates aren’t so cruel as to have this be when you get your wish of pups; not like this.

The last week finally catches up with you, and the lullaby of Dean’s whines and whimpers, combined with his soft kisses, lull you into a deep sleep.

The sun’s warmth on your face begins to wake you from sleep. Your muscles feel heavy, and Dean’s lips caress your back and shoulders.

“Morning, Omega,” he rasps behind you, sliding a warm hand over your hip, and a pang of dread settles in your stomach. You’re tired, every muscle in your body is screaming at you, and your pussy is in agony from a week of rough pounding and knots courtesy of the alpha pulling you closer to his body. If he’s still not out of this rut, you don’t think you’ll survive another round.

“Don’t worry,” Dean chuckles. “I’m not feral anymore, and the rut has gone.”

You’re confused, wondering how he knew what you were thinking. You don’t think you groaned. In fact, you’re pretty sure you didn’t even move. Your body is too sore to even tense up.

Then you remember Dean claimed you and that he did it while in a feral rut.

As your whole world comes crashing down around you, you do the one thing you’d rather die than do in front of Dean.

Cry.

DEAN’S POV

Devastation. That’s all he can feel radiating from the omega next to him. When he woke an hour ago, he’d been happier than ever. The second he claimed Y/N, there was a shift, and all felt right in the world.

He thought—naively, he now realises—Y/N would be happy. It’s what she wanted. What she needed, but the sheer anguish from her tells a different story. The worst part of all this is the shame he feels for claiming her without her consent and the knowledge that now, she’s stuck with him whether she wants to be or not.

“Hey, sweetheart, it’s gonna be okay,” Dean tries to soothe her and presses his lips to her shoulder. “Y/N, look at me, please?” She remains on her side, facing away from him and crying, and the alpha in him takes over. His omega is in distress, and he needs to fix it. “Omega, look at me!” he growls lowly, and watches as Y/N obeys his order and timidly rolls onto her back.

Dean’s jaw drops, and he’s disgusted with himself as he takes in her abused torso. There are a couple of bites and bruises on her back and shoulders, but it’s nothing compared to what covers her neck, breasts and stomach. There’s so much bruising that barely any skin has been left unblemished. As he scans further down her body, he can see the same damage over the tops of her thighs and between her legs.

“Baby girl, I’m so sorry. I—” Dean can’t finish; he has no words for what he did to her. He immediately gets out of bed and fills the tub with hot water. There’s only so much he can do for her out here in the cabin, but the safe house is stocked with first aid supplies, medication and dry and tinned food.

When the tub is full, he shuts off the water and walks back into the bedroom, seeing Y/N still lying on her back and seemingly void of all emotion. Whether it’s on purpose to shut him out or she’s in shock, Dean’s not sure.

Walking over, Dean lifts her from the bed and carries her into the bathroom. He lowers her into the hot water and bathes her gently, mumbling words of comfort, hoping she can hear him and that she can find it in her to forgive him.

Y/N’S POV

After tenderly bathing you, Dean left you to soak in the warm water a little longer, telling you there were clothes in the wardrobe and that he’d make something to eat.

“Please eat with me, omega. You need to get your strength up, and we need to talk,” Dean had begged before he left, closing the door but not fully so he could still keep an eye on you.

He was right; you do need to talk. And eat. You feel weak and lightheaded and desperately in need of something to take away the pain that’s pulsing through every inch of your body.

When the water has lost its warmth, you climb out and wrap yourself in a towel, avoiding the mirror in the corner. Dean’s reaction earlier is enough for you to know you’ll burst into tears if you see it for yourself. And you can’t bear to see his claim on your neck when it was given under duress.

Pulling clothes from the wardrobe, you choose the softest and biggest things you can find. You know from the smell that the sweats and t-shirt are Dean’s, but you’ve always gotten comfort from his scent, and you suspect you’ll get even more from it now.

Coming out of the bedroom, you follow the noise towards the main part of the cabin and find Dean spooning pasta into bowls in the kitchen.

“How are you feeling, sweetheart?” he asks, stopping what he’s doing to give you his full attention.

“Sore,” you chuckle, pulling out a stool. You hiss and wince, the throbbing—and not the good kind—between your legs getting worse for a few seconds as you sit.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I didn’t mean… I hate that I was so rough. That I’ve hurt you,” Dean says as he pushes a bowl and fork towards you.

“You were feral, Dean. It’s not your fault,” you reply, and you mean it. It’s really not his fault.

“It is, though, sweetheart. If I had taken the right suppressants, I wouldn’t have gone feral, and I wouldn’t have claimed you without your consent.”

“I knew what I was signing up for when I came here. I’m just sorry you’re stuck with me,” you smile sadly. “And if you want to leave, I get it. I know I’m not what you want—”

“Would you stop saying that?” Dean interrupts. “I do want you. I have always wanted you. I’m scared that tying you to me will put you in danger.” The desperation rolls from him in waves, and you know he’s telling you the truth. You can feel it. “I want you, Omega. I want this. I don’t regret claiming you. I regret doing it against your will, and if you want to leave me… reject me… It’s what I deserve, and I’ll let you walk out of here right now, but please stop saying that I don’t want you, Y/N. You’re all I want.”

The chemical bond you now share with Dean is overwhelming. He feels more deeply than he ever lets on, and regret over the non-consensual claim is putting it mildly. He’s distraught over it, and his feelings are so strong that you can almost hear the thoughts in his head telling him he’s stupid and he’s fucked things up before it’s really started between you. You can’t take it. You can’t let him think you don’t want this too.

“You’re all I want too, Alpha. The reason I got so upset when I realised you could feel how I felt is because it was a rut claim, and we’d be stuck together and miserable and resentful, and I didn’t want that for either of us, but I could never reject you, Dean. I love you too much.”

The relief that washes over him makes you smile, and because of your new bond, you know he knows every word is true.

“I love you, Y/N. I’m sorry I couldn’t admit it before, and I’m sorry I didn’t give you what you wanted sooner.” Dean slides off his stool and comes to your side with a tube of cream in his hand. “Now, let me see that claim. It needs something on it, sweetheart.”

You tilt your head to the side and pull the neck of the shirt down, exposing the angry, swollen bite mark. Dean gently covers the wound with the medicated cream, and you hiss at the sting.

“Sorry, baby girl.” Dean winces, feeling your discomfort as clearly as you can. “Now, eat and then bed, Omega.”

“Just to sleep, right?” you ask, scrunching up your face and wriggling in your seat at the thought of him going anywhere near your pussy for at least a week. “No sex?”

“No sex,” Dean laughs. “You need to rest, sweetheart, so just lots of cuddles and closeness and bonding and sleep.”

THE END

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#j3bingo #omegaverse #a/b/o universe #alpha!dean winchester x omega!reader #dean winchester smut #dean winchester x reader #a/b/o dynamics #a/b/o

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sourbinnie · 1 year

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☆ silent ☆

♡ genre ¿? ♡ -> angst ; hurt/comfort ♡ pair ¿? ♡ -> hyung line!ateez x gn!reader ♡ plot ¿? ♡ -> malicious comments weren't gonna go unnoticed by your boyfriend even if he couldn't do anything about it. ♡ warnings ¿? ♡ -> swearing ♡ request ¿? ♡ -> yes!

-> the request | maknae line

a/n: i hope i understood this request correctly ajkshf hope you enjoy it and maknae line will be out whenever i'm free since you asked for ot8.

-> the scenario

you didn't wanna attend at first but something about seeing your old friends made you give in. being there with your boyfriend also brought comfort to you and eased your nerves. anxiety couldn't help but kick in when you thought about seeing some of your old classmates and how they were doing right now. you've seen pictures all over instagram of them living their best lives and you were stuck in your job and trying your best to handle money wisely. your boyfriend didn't mind and your family was happy that you were where you were, so why did you have to doubt yourself?

well it was easy when you were surrounded with rich folks who didn't know anything but money and luxury. even after experiencing some of the stuff your boyfriend was used to, you couldn't get used to it but right now? yeah it was definitely too much and too show off for your liking. speaking of your boyfriend, he was there surrounded by people wanting to take photos with him, asking for autographs and wondering why he was here but nobody would kick him out because idols were sacred to them. you were thankful he would be supporting and cheering you on from a distance.

well if you knew what was coming, you would've never brought him along.

"didn't know this was a reunion for the lowest of low." one of your old classmates said laughing and looked at you up & down. he was scanning you with his stare and it made you feel so small but you tried to think nothing of it yet you knew exactly what was happening.

"yeah same man, i thought this was gonna be an exclusive thing. good to see you though (y/n)!" another one exclaimed as she laughed. what did they expect from a high school reunion? to invite only the privileged old students? well maybe it would've been a better idea.

"yeah good to see you." you said in a small voice, wanting nothing more than to leave with how you were being perceived. there was no doubt that your boyfriend was looking at you right at this moment. you wanted to leave, you were going to leave at any moment.

"hope you get a better job soon sweetie. since that dress/suit ain't looking too good." one added and you excused yourself as you left the scene. the tears threatening to spill at any moment as you tried to make sense of a direction to go to, far away from them.

seonghwa ✉

as he watched the scene unfold, seonghwa felt helpless. he wanted nothing more than to shut these assholes up with a comment but he had to keep his image as professional and civilized as possible. for a moment he just wanted to be your boyfriend, a regular attendee that participated in this event and was able to defend his significant other.

but right now he was an idol who, as discreetly as possible, looked for you everywhere. he couldn't find a single trace of you so he decided to head out for a second, hoping no one would notice him and to take a breath. looks like you were doing the same as you tried covering yourself up with your coat so no one could see what you were wearing. broke his heart to a million pieces with that simple action.

"don't do that." he simply said and you sighed. he didn't know what he was gonna say to make things better but he knew that you knew he was gonna try his hardest. "please don't listen to them. it's not a competition to see who has the best job."

"well even if it was, i would be the loser. it's fine hwa i just need some time and you know we can't be seen together." you said but he just shook his head as he looked at you. he wasn't a good boyfriend for just standing there but he would damn prove your worth.

"we can leave if you want to. it's so unfair that this happened when you were excited to see your friends but i hope you can see them another time." you nodded at his words and took his hand. leaving the place to never look back and hoping you never cross paths with these people again. "they're such idiots for saying that to you but you're better than they will ever be." he muttered and his grip on your hand tightened 'cause he truly did mean it.

hongjoong ✉

he was frozen as he heard the words being said. he sighed to himself as he wanted to see you and be there for you so much but he knew as the leader, he had to keep an image and it hurt him. in another world he would be telling these idiots to back off and to look at themselves before they judge someone else. especially if that someone was the most respectful and attentive person he's ever met because oh god, you did not deserve that at all.

he found you when the whole event ended and took you home. the silence was deafening as you tried your best to act like you were okay but the mask was falling off when you arrived to your shared apartment. he knew he couldn't leave you alone tonight.

"(y/n) talk to me babe. i know i should've said something and i'm regretting everything right now." he said as he looked at you with pleading eyes. you could never lie to hongjoong even if you tried to and right now you felt like breaking down completely so you let go.

"i just wish i was enough sometimes. not only my job but my appearance and just how i am, why couldn't i just defend myself?" you asked and hongjoong couldn't help but feel the worst he's ever felt. just the way you were putting yourself down because of them, it's enough to drive him insanely mad.

"no. you are enough, more than enough and i'm sorry i didn't say anything. if i could go back and change what happened, i would do it in a heartbeat." he said as he hugged you and held you in his arms. "no matter what job you have or what you wear, you'll always be the person with the biggest heart that i know and that's what matters." he muttered and that was enough to bring tears from your eyes.

yunho ✉

he would feel so bad, like it would shatter him to see you fighting back the tears and the humiliation you went through. he would want to stand up for you, not even as a boyfriend but as a human being. yet his feet remained glued to the ground because he couldn't risk putting the boys into trouble and as much as he loved his brothers, he felt so weird putting his significant other last.

a few minutes later, he got out of the shock and walked away from the reunion. he needed to find you and he didn't care about anything else, even if it caused him to be a little careless about it. when he did indeed set your eyes on you as you were outside, he looked around but then decided to stop being a coward and approached you.

"love, are you okay?" he whispered and he almost facepalmed himself for still trying to be undercover. like he was your boyfriend, he hated himself for caring so much about his image and not enough about you. "i'm sorry. i just fucked up didn't i?"

"yunho no, you didn't do anything. i understand that you couldn't really say anything but then again there was nothing to be said." you shrugged as you tried to enter again but he grabbed your wrist before you could walk away.

"i won't fail you again. please don't listen to them okay? none of it is true." he said and you nodded as much as you wanna believe him, it was hard. it just hit you really hard that you were judged that way but you knew your boyfriend was there and that brought some relief. "by the way, you look gorgeous tonight."

yeosang ✉

oh boy he would be so mad. he encouraged you to go but at the same time he was scared because he knew what kind of people your classmates were and looked at what happened. the fact that they felt above you because they wore designer clothes or got to travel the world made him sick. as he stood there, now looking at the people who surrounded him in another way, he tried to look for you.

it pained him that he had to pretend like he didn't know you at all but he put on the image for a little bit longer until you sent him a text. his eyes softened when you said you wanted to leave and he was glad but so fucking disappointed in himself at the same time.

"darling. let's go home yeah?" he said when he saw you and you nodded as you both went separate ways but ended up in the same car later on. "i hope you know that i would've done something if i could."

"i know but it's okay sangie, they weren't exactly wrong." you said and he instantly grabbed your hand as he looked at you.

"they were so wrong and i'll prove it to you. i wasn't the best boyfriend you deserve tonight." he said and you nodded as you got closer to him and he kissed your cheek. sighing to yourself as he drove home, one hand on the wheel and the other holding yours. "i'll prove to you that you're much more than they will ever be." he said and you smiled.

#sourbinnie #ateez reactions #ateez scenarios #ateez imagines #ateez drabbles #ateez #ateez imagine #ateez x reader #ateez x you #ateez angst #ateez x gn reader #seonghwa x reader #yeosang x reader #yunho x reader #hongjoong x reader

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jenlrossman · 8 months

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Tuvix as a metaphor for Janeway's mindset throughout Voyager

When Tuvok and Neelix merged into a new individual after a transporter malfunction, Tuvix was born. Possessing a combination of the memories and personalities of his component parts while still being his own unique self, Tuvix quickly proved he was more than just a transporter accident, showing he had potential to find his place among the crew of Voyager and settle in to this new normal.

And when Janeway learned of a way to separate him, bringing back Tuvok and Neelix, Tuvix was killed. Against his wishes, against the doctor's ethical subroutines, Tuvix was killed.

I'm not going to discuss whether or not this was right. That's an entirely different subject that many people have debated ad nauseam.

I just want to talk about how the decision to kill Tuvix and bring back Tuvok and Neelix might actually be the defining moment in developing Kathryn Janeway's mindset for the rest of the series. The sometimes questionable mindset best described as

"There's the right way, the wrong way, and the Janeway."

To Captain Janeway, Tuvix is a problem to solve. He is the thing standing in the way of the status quo, the thing preventing her from seeing her loved ones again.

She says as much, when Kes is expressing reservations about developing feelings for Tuvix and says she hasn't given up on the idea of him being separated.

You’re experiencing what people on this crew have been going through since we first got stranded in this quadrant. Do we accept that we're separated from our loved ones forever, or do we hold onto the hope that someday we'll be with them again?

Tuvix, therefore, is a physical representation of being stuck in the Delta quadrant. He is the thing preventing them from being with their loved ones, and she might not be able to get everyone home right now if ever, but she's going to do everything she can to see Tuvok and Neelix again.

Whether or not it is right for her to kill Tuvix, that isn't as important to her as proving—to herself and to her crew—that she is going to do anything she can to get them home, and killing him is a symbolic representation of that.

We see this mindset continue throughout the series, and the Lower Decks episode Twovix gives us some great examples.

While most of the crew is dealing with another transporter malfunction, Boimler and Rutherford are dealing with holographic representations of various things the Voyager crew encountered. And they just happen to be some of Janeway's greatest hits… Or misses.

Michael "delete the wife" Sullivan—Janeway's holographic Irish boy toy, who she widowed and altered to suit her preferences even though those episodes deal with the possibility of all holograms having a chance to achieve sentience

The macrovirus—which was dealt with by Janeway unleashing it on a crowd of (again, possibly sentient?) holograms

The personification of fear—the clown who was defeated when Janeway went so far to save her crew that she literally made the concept of fear afraid of her

Chaotica—Janeway didn't particularly want to play the role of Queen Arachnia but she got very into it because when push comes to shove, she really doesn't mind being the villain if it means protecting her crew

And of course, the Borg…

The series finale of Voyager is the ultimate example of the "anything to see our loved ones again" mindset Janeway shows in Tuvix.

Voyager gets home. It takes 23 years, but they get home.

However, Seven is lost along the way, Chakotay dies after reaching earth, and the delay in getting home has exacerbated Tuvok's Vulcan equivalent of Alzheimer's to the point that he is not himself anymore.

Three of the most important people in her life, gone.

So what does she do? Of course she doesn't accept that, she can't, she never has been able to.

Kathryn Janeway goes back in time, erases the lives of everyone in the universe to rewrite history on her terms, she defeats the goddamn Borg—just to see them again.

And of course she does it herself. As we learned in Tuvix when the doctor refuses to separate him, Janeway doesn't care. She'll do it all herself, ethical consequences be damned, she just needs everyone she loves to get back to the Alpha quadrant.

So whether or not it was right to separate Tuvix, it doesn't matter. The right way, the wrong way, none of that matters. Not to her, not as long as doing things the Janeway gets everyone she cares about home safely.

#star trek #voyager #star trek voyager #janeway #kathryn janeway #captain janeway #tuvix #twovix #lower decks #Star Trek lower decks #my literary analysis

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tartagliawill0ws · 6 days

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Kotoko's PTSD/C-PTSD Symptoms

So earlier I said I could make an entire post on Kotoko's PTSD symptoms, for lack of a better start, here it is!

Hyperarousal (feeling "on edge")

Someone with PTSD may be very anxious and find it difficult to relax. They may be constantly aware of threats and easily startled.

In the beginning of Harrow, we see her relatively relaxed, looking over her research, but then...

She turns to look at the camera, clutching her fist and seemingly startled. Even when seemingly alone, she can't relax fully, not for long. Then we see the wolf appears besides her, something she seems almost horrified with in the end of Deep Cover. Also, in Harrow, even within her own mind she is clenching her fist, tense.

Re-experiencing

Re-experiencing is the most typical symptom of PTSD. This is when a person involuntarily and vividly relives the traumatic event in the form of:

•flashbacks

When she sees Keiko, multiple images of other people being harmed flash across. While these could be other victims of the same man, I have also seen it argued that it is Kotoko in the past and that the man is just a fill-in of the sorts. It could be a traumatic flashback in that case.

•nightmares

I don't believe we have anything that exactly fits this criteria, but we do have other types of possible re-livings.

•repetitive and distressing images or sensations

The wolf is not only mirroring Kotoko with blood around the mouth, but is also looming over her. Many perpetrators of violence have nightmares of seeing blood on their hands, like Kotoko here, but it doesn't entirely seem like Kotoko sees herself as a monster, not fully. She is not the monster, but the monster is so terrifyingly like her, it is constantly looming over here.

"They’re still here, still here, it grates me"

Is the line that goes with this, and considering the insults she gave the prisoners before you may think she's talking about them, which she may be, but what she uses in Japanese is much more vague. More like "it's" as far as I know(?) correct me if I'm wrong. In this scenario, she could easily be talking about some form of trauma she is remembering.

•physical sensations, such as pain, sweating, feeling sick or trembling

Possibly just from overexertion, but her expression speaks of more (I don't think she's horrified by her actions or anything at this point). She looks absoloutely terrified for a moment before she looks certain in herself again. She's sweating (as mentioned before) and may be described as looking "sick", if we go by the flashback explanation for the scenes she sees before she attacks, then she'd likely just be coming down from it. Panic attacks and flashbacks both have heavy physical affects on the body, even without them literally being a form flashbacks can take.

Avoidance and emotional numbing

Some people attempt to deal with their feelings by trying not to feel anything at all. This is known as emotional numbing.This can lead to the person becoming isolated and withdrawn, and they may also give up pursuing activities they used to enjoy.

Q: Don’t you feel scared of killing people? A: If it’s for the world. How I feel about it is completely irrelevant.

Q: Don’t you feel a sense of isolation in your current situation? A: It feels like nothings changed. If the world gets even a little better just by me undertaking this isolation, then that is the role the strong play.

In both of these, she attempts to say she feels nothing about a situation or that her feelings are irrelevant.

Many people with PTSD try to push memories of the event out of their mind, often distracting themselves with work or hobbies.

Q: What are your parent’s occupations?A: They’re just the normal office worker and housewife. Did you want me to be born in with some unique circumstances?

She presses harder with the pencil when answering this question, perhaps indicating some sort of anger or avoidance when the topic of her parents (or just past) comes up. Though, I feel as if this is some of the most speculation in this post.

Feelings of worthlessness, shame and guilt

She seems to hate herself immensely, only loving herself through her role as a "savior".

Such as the conflicted look she has in this scene, before we're shown the bloody scales. While I do think she is also experiencing some form of flashback in this scene, we're clearly being shown that she understands her justice is violent on some sort of subconscious level. She likely does feel guilty because of this, even if she does not want to admit it, because of the manner it's being shown to us.

"From the beginning, I've never asked for your understanding! My actions, one by one, are bringing earth closer to peace. Useless Weaklings should just shut up and let me protect them!"

Losing it, losing it, What should I hope for

Laugh and I can get to like myself

She is showing a deep disdain and sense of hopelessness for herself. She searches for purpose in the label of "Hero" without any other way to feel as if she likes herself, hence why she gets angry in the first example when someone seems to speak up against her. Without her vigilantism, she feels worthless.

Problems controlling your emotions

Very commonly, those with C-PTSD will experience a lot of anger and unstable emotions.

*Sigh* How ridiculous... It's always like this...All of you weaklings always act like this... All of you enjoy seeing someone getting hurt...

All of you enjoy seeing a bad person falling down...

You keep asking for it, but as soon as it happens near you by your own choice, you all start complaining and evading your responsibility...You're always like this... Always such idiots!

Here, we can see her getting angry when denied her escapism of vigilantism by Es. If you listen to the voice drama, it almost sounds as if she's about to cry. As if she is experiencing a very unstable set of emotions and doesn't know how to control them so she is lashing out with anger. She asks them to let her keep her purpose, still angry,

If you don't have strength on your own, let me take care of it, Es! I can do it in MILGRAM!

Do you understand now?! Don't make me wait!!!

In the line I mentioned before, the "From the beginning" one, she is also displaying this. The only context I can imagine for this is someone who is horrified or denying her (Keiko in my theory), and when faced with this she lashes out with anger again.

In Deep Cover, we constantly see her anger surrounded by her being scared, desperate, ect. She lashes out when scared, sad, and other feelings because she seemingly does not know how else to deal with her feelings.

Finding it hard to feel connected with other people

I ffeel like this is already very well-explained with the quote

When ostracised due to the fact she actually beat people within an inch of her life, she claims she feels no more isolated. From the beginning, she couldn't connect with them, even if she does have feelings of fondness for some. And her introduction immediately shows that she is weary of others, not wanting to say anything more than her name and age.

Yuzuriha Kotoko. 20 years old. I don’t feel like telling you much else right now. That is, before I find out what your intentions are.

She completely avoids normal people, further isolating herself by naming herself one of the only "strong" in a group of "weak", and via dehumanisation as a "tool"..... Oh, and that leads me into my next point.

Dissociation

The way dissociation manifests varies from individual to individual, though it always involves some form of distancing from the traumatic experience, memory or source of anguish.

In Harrow, we see her mindspace. The first time we see it, she is obviously stressed, with eyebags and an almost despaired expression. And then, she opens her eyes and she is in her mindspace.

When experiencing a source of anguish (her feelings towards the injustices of the world and the result of her overworking), she retreats into her own mind, sometimes completely by accident. Almost everytime we see this mindspace, she is surrounded by her research (her overworking and the despair she feels from seeing what is happening) or she is straight up seeing Keiko be kidnapped and possibly experiencing flashbacks.

She removes herself from "herself" in a way by calling herself a tool, a fang- inhuman. By calling herself that, accepting other people (Es) seeing her like that, she is removing herself from the larger group of "people" (and the events of her past by giving herself a current purpose), which also ties back into her disconnection from other people.

If other people recognise more or can se more examples please share!! She's so very dear to me and I want to understand her as well as I can.

#milgram #kotoko yuzuriha #Kotoko “I had a perfectly normal life” Yuzuriha #Kotoko saying her life wasn't special only to subject herself to sleeping in a PLASTIC CHAIR and CONSTANTLY SURROUNDED BY HER WORK #Girl normal people don't do that #Also about the dissociation she has a parallel with Mikoto (I.e the guy with DID the expert in dissociation)#“I feel like I'm breaking” which is very similar to some of the stuff he says

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genshin-obsessed · 8 months

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Illusion | Lyney x Reader

My friend and I were talking and it's about time for some angst anyway sooo ^w^ here we are.

Summary: His love for you is endless, boundless, and terrifying, so he created an illusion to cope with it. Word count: 876 warning: angst

Lyney was the master of illusion, he and his sister Lynette could fool anyone and everyone, save for those in their circle. Lyney's tricks were based on distracting and sleight of hand. He'd practiced it over and over in the years he'd been a magician but there was one trick he just couldn't perfect.

Making his feelings for you disappear.

Lyney hadn't actually known you for all that long, maybe just over a year or so. Yet, his heart pounded in his chest whenever he saw you. He shivered whenever you laughed, and he smiled whenever you touched him. So, what did Lyney do? He flirted because it was fun.

He loved watching your face get flustered when he threw out cute pickup lines or just complimented you. There was this rush of excitement he felt whenever you looked away shyly, your cheeks slightly red, and a soft smile on your lips. He didn't think it could be this addicting and there was a very good reason for that. Lyney had never been in love before, so he didn't realize how easily someone could develop feelings for another.

But one day he realized he maybe went too far when you asked him if he was attracted to you. Lyney just froze up. The thought seemed so sweet and attractive but there was something that made it all come crashing down. His background as a fatui. Lyney wasn't a bad guy, but that didn't mean he was safe to be around all the time. He and his siblings took on all sorts of troublesome tasks that sometimes came back to haunt them. He could never possibly put you in harm's way.

So there was a new problem- aside from these growing feelings. You seemed... interested. Lyney was no master of love, but he could pick up a few signs and interpret them. But he couldn't do it. He never outright admitted he was attracted to you. Whenever you asked, he'd just laugh and change the subject or just give you a wink and say it was a secret.

Truth be told, Lyney never admitted it- not even to himself late at night when he was completely alone. The idea of admitting he was so in love with someone that they could tell him to do anything and he just might was paralyzing. With every passing interaction, Lyney would feel his heart squeeze in pain if you experienced any sort of discomfort. Why couldn't someone as perfect and pure as you just be happy? He wasn't about to go insane and start stabbing people, no way, but whoever upset you was someone he just found himself disliking.

~**~

Lyney rolled over in his bed, his eyes shifting over to the window not too far away. He couldn't sleep. It was late at night and he was plagued with thoughts of you. Sitting up, he rubbed his face before looking down at his blanket. It was happening again... you were in his head.

Lyney had seen you earlier today and you looked so beautiful. The way you styled your hair, the clothes you wore, how the color suited you, just... it was nice to witness. Even if it was hours ago, your smile and laughter were replaying in his mind over and over. He could still recall your flushed cheeks and the shy movements of your gaze that would flicker away then back at him.

A pale hand pressed against his chest, feeling his beating heart. It was pounding and even though you weren't here, Lyney felt... anxious. He missed you and if he was being honest for once, he wanted to see you.

Throwing the covers off, he stood up, feeling the cold floor beneath his feet almost grounding him. He walked toward the window and pushed the curtains aside before opening it up, sighing at the breeze that ruffled his hair. There was his dilemma, the reason he chose to lie to everyone. He was fatui, he was dangerous and you were something he knew he couldn't have. That was probably the worst... knowing you were actually single and interested gave him the hope that he craved. But when the scenarios of you being in danger flashed in his mind, he panicked. He burned any traces of hope that would bloom.

One mistake and you could be taken away. Just that easily.

"You're going crazy, Lyney..." he muttered to himself as he looked down at the street in front of him. It was empty, devoid of any life whatsoever. Yet Lyney's tired eyes that seemed to get glossier by the second held plenty of life. "You're completely losing it."

No matter how hard Lyney tried, he couldn't possibly ignore his feelings for you. He could only pretend for so long. With every passing day, whether he saw you or not, his veil began to fall. The illusion he set up for himself was slowly dissipating and the harsh reality of how much he loved and cared for you was showing. It scared him. It scared him so much that he desperately tried to pick up the pieces to rebuild his lies.

Lyney could lie to the world all he wanted, but he couldn't lie to himself. Not anymore.

#genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #lyney x reader #genshin lyney x reader #genshin impact x gender neutral reader #🖊─ pocky’s writings #genshin angst

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lovingperfectionsblog · 2 years

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A Feisty Woman

Max Verstappen x Reader

Request: hi babes how about a fic where the reader is in a relationship with max, and she's like a bad, confident bitch who likes to do whatever she likes. she likes to dress up, show skin and whatever she pleases; but max is confident, he likes that about her, he doesn't mind that other people get to see who only HE sleeps with at night. And other people ask him about it, but he's like why would any of the stuff I fell in love with about her bother me.

Summary: Max gets questioned about you in an interview and gives a surprising response.

Warnings: Language, mentions of sexual activity.

Word Count: 1363

Authors note: I absolutely love men who just stand by their authentic partners and celebrate them for who they are and are protective of them is just absolute top notch for me <3 Slightly shorter than usual but I hope you all enjoy 😊

_____

“So Max, would it be okay if we moved onto something a little ore personal then?”

“By all means”

“Forgive me for saying this, but your relationship as seen some controversiy so far hasn’t it”

Max couldn’t help but laugh at the question.

“How did I know it was going to be about my relationship”

“You’re not exactly dating someone who generally follows the conventions around the paddock”

“What do you mean by the conventions around the paddock?”

Max knew exactly what he meant, but he wanted to hear him say it. He wanted to hear him find a polite way of saying he thought that Max’s girlfriend dressed inappropriately and seemed a bit too forward.

That’s what everyone said.

“Well, the other WAGs are slightly more, and please know I don’t mean this in a disrespectful way, but they tend to be a bit more conservative, less loud, less out there, more reserved you know?”

“And look how it turned out with the last woman I dated that was like that. I need someone who can take me on, someone strong, someone who doesn’t stand for any shit and takes what she rightfully deserves.”

“And it doesn’t bug you?”

“What? Dating a feisty woman? It most certainly does not, again, like I’ve said, I need someone like her.”

He had meant that. You were like no one he had ever experienced before and finally he found a personal who could truly challenge him in the best of ways. A woman who stood up for herself and her beliefs and was authentic no matter what. Someone who didn’t just, go along with whatever he said. Someone he was sure of. Someone who didn’t just want him because he was the Max Verstappen. Someone who honestly actually didn’t care about any of it.

Just of him.

“Oh, no, I mean, how she dresses and behaves?”

“Is there a reason I should be bugged be it?”

“Well, it isn’t exactly reserved is it?”

“And why is that something that should bug me?”

“Well, wouldn’t you want your woman to kind of just dress like that for you?”

“And not show all of that off? It would be an actual crime. And on top of it, there is plenty she isn’t showing the public. Plenty which is reserved just for me and our home and our bed.”

“Oh no, listen,-“

“No, you listen, what my girlfriend does is her business. All that’s important is that her and I are loyal to each other. While I’m here, lets actually properly get into this. She is an educated, confident, loving, witty, funny, charming, loyal, and passionate woman, and so goddamn beautiful, fuck, I could go on forever listing every good fucking quality about her, but all anyone is focused on is how she dresses and how much skin she’s showing. There are so few woman out there who are confident in who they are, Christ, there are so few people who are confident in who they are and we want to ruin the ones who already are? No, enough, I love her, all of her. She has literally encouraged me to be more sure of myself and honestly made me love myself more than I ever thought possible simply because she is brave enough to be who she is. Because despite what everyone else says and how ever many hits she takes in the media from journalists like you, she loves herself relentlessly and that is what matters to me”

“Max, I am sorry, I didn’t mean to offend-“

“No this interview is done. No more about my girlfriend yeah?”

Max didn’t even give the journalist a moment to respond, simply getting up to make his way back to the paddock, done with conversations around his personal life and more importantly, you.

He knew he was going to get an earful from his media team, knew that he was meant to invite the public into more of his life, to build a better brand away from the angry Max Verstappen on track, but no way was he going to do that if this is what you had to endure because of it.

And lord knows he wasn’t going to lose you because people were too invested in how you dressed.

_____

“So, I saw the latest interview” you spoke gently as you carded your fingers through Max’s hair, feeling him soften into you as he lay with his head on your chest.

“Jesus Christ” he was so thankful once he had returned to the hotel that evening to find you there, warm, safe, everything he had needed after a day like today.

“The liberal girlfriend who dresses too slutty” you laughed to yourself, shocked that this is all the media had chosen to focus on and pick apart, yet still feeling a slight insecurity creeping up, concerned that, despite all Max had said, he maybe felt the same underneath it all.

“God I fucking hate that word, hate that this is what you’re called” his grip tightened around you, trying to convey every ounce of protectiveness to you that he felt, and if that meant trapping you in his grip for the moment, then so be it.

“If you want, I can dress a little different from now on” you broached the topic with him, not exactly wanting to change how you portrayed yourself, but willing to if it gave him some reprieve. ‘

“Don’t you fucking dare change who you are because of some bullshit journalists who don’t know anything about you. I love you. As you are. Please, do not change a single thing about you and plus, you wear what you want because I know how to fight.” he didn’t intend to sound so forceful, but he needed you to know that this, who you were, was always more than enough for him and he never ever intended on going for less ever again.

“Plus, and as much as I hate them calling you a slut, it wasn’t the word I was referring to” he was looking at you now, a cheeky grin plastered on his face.

“And what word were you referring to then love?” confusing on yours in contrast.

“Girlfriend”

“What are they meant to call me then?” God he loved feeling you laugh almost as much as hearing it.

“My fiancé” the seriousness was just as evident in his voice as the playfulness was, so much so that it shocked you into silence, although you didn’t want to push Max too quickly, you’d wanted nothing more than to marry him.

“Are you saying you want me to marry you there handsome?” neither of you averting your eyes, dancing along a thin line between seriousness and joking.

“Oh, it is definitely in the works I can promise you that” and it was a promise he was keeping, with full knowledge that the ring was busy being made and should be ready for him next week to collect.

“Sure you can handle your wife wearing such revealing clothing?” you gave a little side eye as you began to move your hand lower along his chest.

Max leaned in, lips brushing against yours, a poor attempt from him at preventing the shiver running down his spine as he felt your nails gently grazing his skin, desperate for the moment he felt them along the band of his underwear.

“I fully intend for the first month that we are married to make sure that neither of us wear any clothing at all” his eyes suddenly focused on the strap of your shirt, gently edging it down your shoulder.

“And I think we should start getting used to it now, don’t you think?”

#max verstappen #f1 #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #monaco #f1 x reader #max verstappen x you #f1 one shot #formula one x reader #formula 1 #Max Vertsappen x reader #Max verstappen #x reader

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timothee-chalamets-girlfriend · 3 months

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Paul Atreides X Reader (Dune)

Part 1: Caladan

Paul Atreides' feet dangle from his bed as he rests in slumber. The blanket was on his body's top half, but he had kicked it off his bottom half. He was a restless sleeper. This was because of strange dreams he would have. They were always changing, but most made him uncomfortable. This has been going on since he was a child, yet some of his dreams still shock him.

Outside of House Atreides, the sun was beginning to rise. It had been a cool night, causing drops of dew to form on the soft grass. The ocean water can be heard roaring against the rocks at the bottom of the cliff, a high tide was coming in. Luckily the cliff House Atreides sat on was the highest on Caladan. Not only was it protected from water, it's protected from any kind of threat that may arise. Paul's father, Leto Atreides, had done all he could to keep his royal family safe. However, part of him knew nothing could be protected forever. Still, it was his duty to keep his family safe. And he would.

"Paul," a small voice whispered. "Paul." He feels a warm touch on his shoulder and his eyes shoot open. Looking up, he immediately relaxes when he sees it was just his mother. Paul readjusts himself from his crooked position and sits up. "Hm?" He makes a small, sleepy sound. "You slept in again. Your father and I have been waiting at the breakfast table for you." His mother tells him, running her hand through his curls. "Oh, sorry. I was-" Paul starts but his mother interrupts. "You were up late studying Arrakis and their people again, weren't you?" She asks with a sigh. Paul simply nods, looking away. "Come now, your food is getting cold." His mother says and leads him to the dining room.

Father, mother, and son sat side by side at the table and enjoyed their breakfast. Paul's father and mother finished theirs fairly quickly, while he took a bit longer than usual. "Not hungry?" Leto asked. Paul shrugs. His father and mother exchange a glance before Leto turns his attention back to his son. "Look, Paul, I know you want to come to Arrakis with me, but it's just too dangerous. You've never experienced desert conditions. I'm not going to risk it, you are far too important." He talks firmly. Paul, being a teenager, rolls his eyes at his father.

He pushes his plate away, which had a little over half of the food left. "You just don't trust me." He says, shaking his head. "It's not that, Paul, and you know that. We simply love you too much and are trying to protect you." His mother enters the conversation. "But you get to go." Paul defies. "You know why I have to go, Paul. Don't pull that." The mom replies. Paul grunts, "mother, father. Please. You both know how much I've been studying and preparing for this. I am ready. Please believe me." Paul says, practically begging his parents. The room goes silent for a few seconds as Leto looks at his son and ponders possibilities. "There is one thing we could try in order for him to prove himself ready." He finally lets out his thought. Paul's mother was quick to share her thought. "Are you insane!? That could get him killed!" She yells. "Calm down, Jessica. I believe in him. I believe he deserves a chance." Leto replies calmly and seriously.

Paul's lips swiftly form a smile, and he jumps up from his chair in a sudden burst of excitement. He had no idea what this thing he would have to do was, but he was happy to get to try nonetheless. Jessica sighs, standing as well and readjusting the long fabric of her dress. She didn't want to disappoint her son, but she couldn't help but worry about the possibility of him failing the test. "Very well, then. I'll take Paul to her." She tells Leto, and both mother and son walk the halls of the great House Atreides. While they walk a sinking feeling forms in the pit of Jessica's stomach. She hated this idea. At the same time she knew it needed to be done. "I must not fear. Fear is the mind-killer. Fear.." she says to herself in her mind as they approach the door.

Lady Jessica takes a final step forward, knocking on the large metal door. "Reverend Mother?" She calls out, and the door quickly flies open. As Paul enters the room, which was mysteriously dark and empty, a shiver runs down his spine. He was starting to feel not too sure about this. "Reverend Mother, my son, Paul, is ready to be tested." His mother tells the cloaked woman with a shaky voice. "How wonderful!" The lady croaks, "you may leave, lady Jessica. Guard the door for me." Jessica nods and leaves at once, the door closing behind her with a forceful slam.

"Come closer, boy. Don't be afraid." The lady shows off some of her crooked teeth. Paul cautiously proceeds forward, but stops just a few feet from where he should be. "CLOSER!" She yells, her voice suddenly becoming deeper than even his. He feels as if someone was behind him, as he is abruptly pushed forward. "KNEEL!" She yells in the deep voice again; Paul's legs seem to give way as he falls to his knees in front of her. The Reverend Mother takes a few moments to study Paul. She reaches out a shaky hand and places it on his cheek, her hand traveling around his facial features.

Paul, thinking that this was all the test was, goes to stand. He is quickly stopped when he feels an odd sensation against his neck. The Reverend Mother smirks as she points the gom jabbar directly at the boy's neck. "By your neck I hold a poison needle, in which will cause instant death at injection. The test is simple. Put your right hand in the box and keep it in there no matter what you feel. The second you remove your hand from the box, is the second you die." She tells him, still smirking. "What's in the box?" Paul asks, lifting up his right hand and beginning to slowly direct it towards the box. "You'll find out soon enough, my boy. Go on now." The lady grows impatient and pushes the needle a few inches closer to Paul's neck, making Paul waste no more time putting his hand in the box.

At first, there was just tingling. Almost as if electricity was running through Paul's hand. But it didn't hurt, it was just an unusual sensation. Paul looks the Reverend Mother in the eyes with confidence of passing the test, but it doesn't take him long to regret that. There was no light, no heat, yet.. it felt as if his hand was immersed in flames. Paul takes a quick breath to try and keep himself from reacting to the burning sensation on his skin. Soon, he feels as if his skin was being ripped off and the flames were entering his open wounds, making it feel like he had stuck his hand in a river of lava. Paul bites his lip, shaking his head and groaning through his throat. He wanted to remove his hand from the box. But he couldn't.

Now, the sensation he had in his right hand was that of an axe chopping off each of his fingers one by one before completely severing his hand. All of this while still burning, as well. Paul couldn't hold back anymore. He lets out a pained yell, which echoes throughout the room. "Quiet." The lady says, still holding the needle just centimeters from his neck. Paul breathes rapidly and scrunches his face in agony. He felt like crying, screaming, and mostly he felt like removing his hand from the box. However, he knew that any of those were not an option. The pain seems to reach its maximum level, and as it does Paul closes his eyes and holds back another scream, instead letting out another groan from his throat. Everything seems to go blank. All he can feel is pain, all he sees is darkness, and all he hears is the sound of his panting. He decides to focus on his breathing and nothing else. A few failed attempts pass, but he finally manages to get his breathing under control. Paul slowly opens his eyes and locks them with the lady's once more. His face was as still as stone. There were no emotions in his expression. He looked as if he could be dead.

"Enough!" The Reverend Mother yells after exhausting herself enough. The boy had passed. Paul swipes his hand out from the box and examines it; it was perfectly fine. He sighs in relief as the pain melts away and he realizes he's still alive, meaning he had passed the test. Lady Jessica runs in and immediately checks on her son, feeling just as relived to see him alive. "You pushed it too far." She tells the Reverend Mother sternly. The lady clicks her tongue, shaking her head. "Now, now. You and I both see the potential power in this young man. He needed to be tested to the limits." The Reverend Mother speaks. "What of him now?" Paul's mother asks. "He will go with you to Arrakis. You'll leave early tomorrow morning. I feel as if he will be needed there. No matter his fate, I feel he can make a difference to that rouge planet." The older lady responds before ushering her guests out from the eerie room.

#dune #dune 2 #dune 2024 #dune movie #paul atreides #paul atreides x reader #timothee #timothee chalamet #dune part two #dune part 2

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isfjmel-phleg · 2 months

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After my presentation of the Secret Garden and CEN paper, someone in the audience asked about applying the lens of CEN to other children's book from the same era. I thought about it afterward, and the best example that came to mind was Anne of Green Gables.

Anne Shirley, before her arrival at Green Gables, has experienced CEN. It has played out in a much different way for her than it does for Mary and Colin in TSG, due to differences in social class, but the principle has been the same. As an orphan raised in homes that viewed her as an inconvenience and a sort of unpaid servant, she has never had an adult in her life who prioritized her emotional well-being, who took the time to be kind to her, to listen to her, to teach her how to function in the world beyond basic survival. She is aware that no one wants her after her parents' death, and she is made to feel guilty by her caretakers for having the audacity to exist and need to be "brought up by hand." It's difficult for Anne to even talk about these experiences when Marilla asks her. She's relieved to get relating them over with, because "Evidently she did not like talking about her experiences in a world that had not wanted her."

And then there's this exchange:

“Were those women—Mrs. Thomas and Mrs. Hammond—good to you?” asked Marilla, looking at Anne out of the corner of her eye. “O-o-o-h,” faltered Anne. Her sensitive little face suddenly flushed scarlet and embarrassment sat on her brow. “Oh, they meant to be—I know they meant to be just as good and kind as possible. And when people mean to be good to you, you don’t mind very much when they’re not quite—always. They had a good deal to worry them, you know. It’s a very trying to have a drunken husband, you see; and it must be very trying to have twins three times in succession, don’t you think? But I feel sure they meant to be good to me.”

Anne has clearly been mistreated, but she's describing--and pointedly not describing--suggests less of aggression and physical harm and more of something missing, an emptiness, a lack of love--CEN. Likewise, she herself exhibits some signs that can be associated with this type of maltreatment. Difficulty with emotional regulation, attachment problems, extreme sensitivity to rejection, negativity toward herself, excessively immersing herself in imagination (a mild dissociative tendency), anxiety around social situations (regarding how to behave correctly and whether people will like her), etc.

And in a way, the entire first book of the series deals with how she finds healing from her past of CEN, through gaining the love and acceptance of her new family, of friends, of an entire community.

From what little I know of L. M. Montgomery's life, CEN was likely a factor in her own upbringing, and it repeatedly features in her novels (The Blue Castle and Jane of Lantern Hill, for instance, in particular feature heroines who have experienced CEN) with poignancy. Montgomery paints moving portraits of how badly children can be scarred by a lack of love and affirmation.

Anyway, situating Anne's backstory as rooted in CEN helped me put my finger on one of the reasons that I felt that the recent series Anne With an E--at least the first season, which is all I've seen--misunderstood the nature of Anne's past. In this version, we see flashbacks to Anne's past, in which she is being viciously bullied by other children for her talkativeness and imagination. They even go so far as to stuff a mouse into her mouth, and the show suggests that Anne has PTSD as a result of this kind of treatment.

And yeah, Anne's childhood in the book isn't great and clearly has hurt her deeply, but this interpretation felt off to me. What Anne has to say--and not say--about her past in the book suggests not that she was targeted as an object of others' aggression but that she was disregarded. No one was giving her a second thought. That's not as dramatic and shocking as vicious bullying, but it's another, more subtle, insidious kind of maltreatment, just as hurtful in its way but harder to pin down. It's easy to portray a quick, sensational scene of our protagonist being obviously, overtly, grandiosely mistreated, but how do you show the gradual piling up of years' and years' of being treated like you don't matter? All the tiny incidents that chip away at one's sense of self-worth? The building of a worldview in which you must earn love and acceptance but somehow you can never manage it and of course it's your own fault?

And I'm reminded how recent adaptations and retellings of TSG shift the narrative toward grief, which is easy to dramatize, big and impressive and full of obvious pathos. It's an easy way out of depicting a subtler kind of suffering, and the same way, Anne With an E replaces Anne's CEN with bullying and PTSD. There is a place for such stories, but Anne's isn't one of them. It's almost as if there's an inability to understand or a reluctance to depict any kind of suffering that isn't big and grand and shocking. There are many ways that people can be deeply hurt, and it doesn't always look like a major traumatic event that's easy to pinpoint. Sometimes the hurt isn't a tidal wave that engulfs in a single devastating event; it's a slow drip that erodes oneself away little by little. That's closer to what is depicted for Anne, and Montgomery's other protagonists who have experienced CEN, and it's important to recognize what exactly is going on because this sort of thing still happens every day in the real world, in many forms, and it needs to be seen and combatted. And seeing this form of maltreatment play out in literature helps us recognize it and empathize with and reach out to those whom it has impacted--or possibly even to identify it in our own histories and search for our own healing.

#I apologize if not everything is phrased perfectly - I'm just working through some initial thoughts on this #but I hope the point of what I'm trying to communicate will get through

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yourlocalmerchgirl · 6 months

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Is it ok if I call you mine? Part Two

Soft!Joel Miller x Neurodivergent/ anxious F!reader

Part 1 Part 3

Summary: Joel is falling for you, and he wastes no time coming to your aid when you call him in the middle of the night because you needed to hear his voice

Soft! Joel miller x neurodivergent reader AU (outbreak never happens)

Warnings: soft Joel, concerned Joel, protective Joel, neurodivergent, audio overstimulation, anxiety, self inflicted angst. Best friend Tommy, falling in love. Acceptance, low self esteem.

A/N: I hope you guys are loving this story as much as I’ve loved working on it! I’ve been so touched hearing from people have been relating to the story so far and I’m thankful for you all!

There’s not a lot of descriptors about reader other than eye color but they can easily be changed.

The wind howls as it slams rain against the windows, shaking the screens as it pulls the rain back and forth with each gust.

It’s late, your inability to sleep renders you curled up in your bed doing some light reading as you try to tire your mind. Sleep doesn’t come easy for you often. Nighttime is when your thoughts are the loudest, often analyzing and reanalyzing conversations you’ve had and situations you’ve been in, thinking about all the different ways they could of gone or thinking about every possible angle to a situation that hasn’t happened yet, just so you’re prepared if it does. The one time recently you actually slept without issue and slept well was the night you fell asleep at Joel’s. There was just something about Joel, something about his presence, his voice that was soothing to you. His ability to ease your overbearing mind allowing you to be in the moment when he was around was nothing you’ve ever experienced before and that scared you. The mystery of these uncharted waters scared you, the unknown of not having a situation in your past to lean back on for reference made you feel anxious. But the way he made you feel out weighed the anxiety for once in your life.

You start to doze off when you’re awoken by the sound of booming thunder filling the room. You sink under the covers the more the thunder rolls through the room. You can’t explain it, there’s just something about thunder that’s been anxiety inducing since you were a kid. At this point you’re curled up in the tightest ball when a loud BANG is heard and all the lights in the house go out. The bright flickers of lighting light up the room from the sides of the shades as more thunder crashes, sounding like giants falling through the atmosphere. You’re terrified at this point, trembling in a tight ball under your covers.

—————————————————————-

Joel’s Pov

Joel’s up, he’s always up late. Sleep often alluding him. He didn’t rest well, always feeling that he hasn’t done enough, that he’s failed someone. He’s just laying there half watching the tv when his phone rings, he knows Tommy’s home because he can hear him down stairs and it’s too late to be any of the guys from work. Panic washes over him when he sees your name on the screen.

“H-hello..”

“J-Joel?” Your tone sounds strained

“Sweetheart, is everything ok?”

“I-I just needed to hear your voice” he can tell by your tone that you’ve been crying, that your stressed out.

You let out a strangled whimper as another boom of thunder rolls through the sky.

“I-I’m just having a hard time a-and just needed to hear your voice.”

Joel melts at the notion that he comforts you, that your comfortable with him and that you would turn to him for comfort. Because truth be told Joel was crazy for you, you’d pretty much stolen his heart since the day he met you. All he wanted to do was show you how much he cared, how much you meant to him.

“Is it the storm sweetheart?

“Y-yes, the thunder makes me anxious and we lost power.”

“Where are you? Y’at home?”

“Yes”

“Ok darlin’ listen to me. Put some music on on your phone to focus on, use t’he flashlight on your phone t’pack a back for a couple days and I’ll come get ya.”

“No Joel…I-I couldn’t ask you to do that”

“I gotta make sure your alright darlin’, I care bout ya k’now that right? You didn’t ask me do anything, I’m doin it cause I want too, I-l I want t’see you”

“ I-I want to see you too Joel”

Joel swears he can her the smile in your voice. He means every word of it. He’ll take every chance he has to protect you, to make you feel loved and cared for.

“TOMMY” Joel yells down the stairs.

“Already got the truck runnin’, I heard you on the the phone, I’m comin’ with you.”

“Tommy no, thunder is one of your triggers I can’t ask you t’do that.”

“Y’two are the two most important people in my life, it’ll be rough but I’m not having y’two out there alone.”

When Joel and Tommy get to your street they find it blocked off. It appears the cause of the power outage was a big tree going down on the power lines further down the road.

Joel pulls up to the barricade rolling down his window.

“Evening officer, w’ould it be possible to get to that second house there?”

“Sorry roads closed”

“ I understand that sir I just need to get to my girlfriend, she’s without power and having a panic attack about all the commotion. Just need to pick her up and we will be on our away.”

“Alright, but make it quick!”

The officer moved the barricade so they can get through.

“You called her your girlfriend?”

“Fuck I dunno Tommy it just came out, I didn’t want the cop to say no.” Joel says as they pull into your drive way.

“You do like her though, you want her to be your girlfriend don’t you?”

“More than anything Tommy, I’d do anything of that girl, hell I’d take her hand and marry her tomorrow if she take me, but she probably doesn’t feel the same, what’s a girl like her want with a guy like me?”

“Stay in the truck I’ll be right back”

You swing the door open before he even reaches the top step of the porch, like you’d been waiting by the window for him, because truthfully you had been.

Joel catches a glimpse of you in the moonlight of the open window, he reaches out to caress your face when he sees how distraught you look, how puffy your eyes are when you just fall into his embrace. He’s taken a back by this for a moment, realizing you really do find safeness and comfort in him.

“Let’s get you outta here sweetheart, you’ll be nice and safe at the house with me and Tommy”

Joel grabs your bags and swiftly leads you outside into rain to the truck. Joel’s helps you into the back when he realizes Tommy’s in the drivers seat.

“Tommy? W’hatya doing?”

“Figured I’d drive back so you can be in the back with her.”

“Tommy! The thunder, you didn’t have to do this” you exclaim as you lean over the seat to give him a big hug.

Tommy didn’t have to say anything, you already knew it was hard for him to be out in the storm surrounded by the thunder too. You and Tommy where similar in those ways. Joel admired the care you showed Tommy, that even in a time of distress for you you’re making sure Tommy is alright too.

You settle back into the seat as Tommy starts backing out if the driveway. You let out a ragged breath and instinctually grab Joel’s hand as another rumble of thunder rips through the sky. He wastes no time lacing his fingers in yours, smoothing his callused thumb over the side of your hand.

You scoot closer to him as you lay your head on his shoulder, breathing out a relaxed sigh.

“Im so happy to see you Joel” you whisper as you tilt your head up to look at him.

“I’m so happy to see you to sweetheart, I’m glad you called”

Joel can tell your tired by your eyes, but you’re still, even in this moment, the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen.

“Let’s get you settled so you can get some sleep, I’ll set you up in my room and I’ll sleep on the couch”

Joel grabs your bags and chuckles “Christ it looks like your moving in” he jokes as he walks you up the stairs.

“Well I had to bring my pillow too, I can’t sleep anywhere without it” you laugh shaking your head at how ridiculous you sound.

“Let’s get you out of these soaked clothes, you must be cold”

“I am a little bit” you say bearly above a whisper as you take your pillow out of one bag and dig through the other for pajamas

You go down the hall to change. Washing your face in the sink you pause just looking at yourself in the mirror.

You look like shit. But you have to tell him how you feel.

Joel’s down stairs setting up the couch when you get back from the bathroom so you lay down and curl up in the bed leaving the room dimly lit with a small lamp. Joel comes upstairs to check on you, when he gets to the doorway he sees you curled up in his bed. He finds the sight of you precious, how cozy and relaxed you look it’s a sight he could get used too. You look up to see him standing in the doorway looking at you and you give him the most genuine smile.

“Sorry, I kind of made myself at home” you say nervously.

“Oh sweetheart don’t be sorry. I want you to feel at home here. I was just coming to check on you, make sure you were comfortable.” Joel says sitting on the end of the bed.

“You must be tired, try to rest and get some sleep. I’ll be on the couch if ya need anything.” Joel says reaching for the lamp.

“J-Joel… you can..um will you stay with me?”

Joel is taken by surprise that you’d actually want to share the bed with him, that he just stares at you for a moment. When he says nothing you become anxious, fearing you misread things.

“I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. Forget I said anything.”

You reach to shut the lamp off but he rests his hand on your leg to stop you.

“No, no sweetheart it’s not like that, I’m honestly just surprised. I just don’t want you to feel like you have to say that.”

“I don’t want you to feel pressured either. I don’t feel pressured at all, Im being genuine.”

“If you’re truly ok with it I would like to stay in here with you” Joel says as he searches your eyes for any hesitance. But when you meet his gaze with the kindest genuine smile he knows your serious.

“I usually sleep without a shirt, i-is that ok?”

“Of course, how ever your comfortable, I don’t want you to change your routine because I’m here.”

“Sweet dreams sweetheart” Joel says before clicking off the lamp.

“Thanks Joel you too.” You flash him a smile even though it’s dark, thinking he won’t see it but he does.

Another boom of thunder rolls across the sky as you let out a pained sigh. rolling over and resting your head against Joel’s arm, just like in the truck.

“It’s ok, come here baby girl, I got you.” Joel says as he opened his arms, hoping he didn’t freak you out by calling you baby girl, it just came out.

As you scoot closer, he wraps you up in his arms. It’s dizzying how good you feel there, the way you nestle you head into his broad chest until you’ve found the perfect spot. The way you contently hum as you wrap you’re arm around his mid section holding him just as closely as he is you that really makes him melt. The way you start sleepily drawing little circles on the skin over his ribs as you lay there. He could die in this moment and be ok with it, being happier than he has been in years. It’s in that moment that all he wants to do for the rest of his life is love and care for you, to protect you and be there for your every up or down.

“Thank you Joel” you mumble sleepily as the sound of his heartbeat starts lulling you to sleep.

“Anything for you sweet girl” Joel whispers as he kisses the crown of your head.

—————————————————————-

As your eyes flutter open the next morning your head is still nestled on Joel’s chest. The two of you slept like that all night, which makes your smile tug at the corner of your lips. This is what happiness and acceptance feels like. You gingerly and quietly slip out from under Joel’s arm and sit up on the bed. You sit there for a moment and take in the true beauty of Joel, the way the morning sun highlights his strong nose and jaw. How his sun kissed olive skin glistens with every rise and fall of his chest.

You slowly get up off the bed as to not wake him and quietly pad down the stairs to get a drink of water.

You sneak back up the stairs and crawl back into bed. Joel had rolled over while you were down stairs, so you just curled up on your side and settle back in.

There was just something about Joel you couldn’t put your finger on. You wanted him to be the first thing you saw in the morning and the last thing you saw at night. You wanted to be there for the ups and downs, showering him with love every chance you got. Something about Joel just felt like home. You are pulled from your thoughts by Joel as he wraps his arm around you pulling you back flush against his chest, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck. A giggle bubbles up when his scruff tickles the soft skin of your neck.

Here’s your chance…

“Hey J-joel” your voice is barely above a whisper

“Hmm” he sleepily hums in response

“I-I like you, like a lot” I say nervously, regretting the words as soon as you say them, preparing for the rejection.

Joel’s eyes snap open, he feels like he’s in a dream, he couldn’t of heard you right?

“Say that again sweetheart”

You roll over so your facing him, though you’re barley able to look him in the eye.

“I like you Joel… I like you a lot.” You nervously say as you reach out smoothing your fingers along his cheek bone.

Joel feels his heart beat quicken. “I like you a lot too baby girl…god I’ve been dying to tell you.

“Is it ok if I call you mine?”

Tag list:

@kalllistos @justasadlittlebean @bcon24 @its-dee-lovely @fishingforpike @macaroni-artist @gengar-neutral @morgaussy @sailorsophiee @samarav @dionysusinparis @arlovesper @fandomsohmyohmy @lovelyladiess @lovebandrry @joelmillersblog @pinkbowsandcoffeestains @pascal-is-punk @thatgirlpeaches @alyhull @fandomwhored @hiddenbabynyc @goldenhxurs @frecklefacelm @amyispxnk

#tommy miller #fanfic #the last of us #joel miller #joel miller x reader #tommy miller x reader #pedro pascal #joel the last of us #soft!joel miller #neurodivergent #joel miller x f!reader

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nyxnephilim · 9 months

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Time for a bit of FFXIV speculation :

I realize that a bulk of FFXIV players have already completed the whole of the story arc ( probably more than one time ) so please don't hold it against this 🌱 while I think-out-loud about my feelings towards the story so far even if I'm still experiencing ARR.

( also pls no spoilers, but I appreciate encouragement and assurance my questions will get answered. Lol )

Somethings have been picking at my brain since I encountered them. One of which is when the Amal'Jaa are surprised we do not fall to tempering stating our "soul must belong to another" and then Ifrit himself says that while he can see we do not already serve a primal that the paragons warned the Primals about the godless-blessed one's aborrent existence. Does that mean that while we may or may not be tempered by a primal we are controlled/ guided by some 'other' thing outside the paragons or the 12. If we are being Guided/controlled by what we don't quite understand but is big enough or strong enough for the paragons & primals to worry about —- should we be worried about its overall motive & can it truly be benevolent and omniscient with that much power? Does it seek to follow through with its own agenda regardless of the plight of others.

The reason I say this is because of another encounter that seems to stick in my mind. A point in which Y'stola chastises Merlwyb for breaking the treaty with the Kolbolds. She basically says and has a solid point (that I had already thought of before this scene) when she tells Merlwyb that this constant war with the Kobolds was of her own doing in letting Lominsans break the treaty. The kolbolds are just defending themselves. Or course there is an a back and forth that ensues but the point being both Merlwyb and the Kobolds are doing what they believe to be right for justice sake and for the sake & safety of their people.

I extrapolated this further. What makes us, the scions, so sure that what WE are doing is right? Because a giant crystal says so? We kill gods/primals and move against another society that perhaps (outside of their military) could possibly be wanting freedom and peace like those of Eorzea do. What of the Garlemald society? They can't be all military. Its not hard to believe that there are some suffering at our hands because of what their military decided to do, not them. I guess essentially what I'm saying is, how are we so certain we are not falsely lead to believe what we do is just and right when what we do is kill gods/primals, murder tribes on sight because of who they are and pushing our agenda on them. There is point where there is a kobold says that those of their community at war with us do not represent the whole of their society. … and I hear that the crafting questline with the different tribes show us that not all of the their race want to fight. So is it hard to reason that perhaps not all Ishgardians hate dragons? That not all dragons hate the elezen. That not all Garleans follow their military and that perhaps what we perceive as right may only be a perspective of one cosmologic being with enough power to have us believe in what they want?

on top of the fact that the Ascians say ' if we knew more, that we wouldn't be fighting with them.... that we would basically understand’ ... leaves me feeling 🤯

What the hell is going on? I know mother crystal is our main guide... but tbh I'm feeling pretty sus about things and honestly the motives of Hydaelyn. I realize they are presenting her as a mothering ‘goddess’ but I’ve always been the type of kid to ask “why”

The answer of ‘just because’ … ‘because I said so’….. ‘because this is how it’s always been done’ ….. ‘because I’m the boss’…..

Has NEVER sat well with me. As a kid or now. With my parents, with teachers, with management or upper level bosses. I need to know the why, the motives, the implications or consequences, the benefits. I need this information because the end does not always justify the means. Especially if on a core level I disagree with it and feel there is an alternate route.

That probably says more about me then I intended but yeah… lol

... anyhow.... thank you for letting me just babble on about the beginning of this ( I'm sure to be ) wild ride we all know and love called FFXIV.

:::: Newbie rant over ::::

#ffxiv #🌱sprout #a realm reborn #ff14 ffxiv #newgamer #lore speculation #ARR #New to FFXIV #🌱#final fantasy 14 #final fantasy xiv #first time FFXIV #ffxiv new player #new to gaming #new to MMOs

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the-jam-to-the-unicorn · 1 year

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Some tips and things to remember when faced with flooding

As someone who experienced flooding and knows people who have been affected by flooding ... here are some safety tips, tips in general, and things to remember ...

The water is now your biggest enemy. So try to get as far away as possible.

I know that shit is scary as fuck but try to remain calm. Calm down people around you too.

If, for whatever reason, you no longer can get out of the house - try to get on the roof of your house. Do NOT stay inside the house. You're going to be trapped in your house, and rescue workers will have a hard time reaching you when you're in the house. (BUT!: Only go out if it's the safer option.)

If you have to stay in the house (for whatever reason), lock every door and window. Seal as good as you can every way water could come inside. Turn off electricity immediately. Get on the highest floor and stay near a window or something similar so rescue workers can get you out. Make noise or send other signals to alarm rescue workers to tell them where you are.

If you can't get on your roof, look for something high - trees, laterns, traffic lights, ... .

You're somewhere trapped? You made it to somewhere safe? Make as much noise as possible, so rescue workers hear you. Use a flashlight (night) or something that reflects light (day).

If you get rescued and you know about people who still need help / are trapped somewhere / can't escape for whatever reason - tell the rescue workers as fast as possible.

Try to get out of the water as quickly as possible. If you stay in the water, you risk getting cold (it doesn't matter how warm it is) and exhausting yourself. This can come quickly and without you noticing. This could kill you.

Also, (secret) water currents can occur. They can be powerful and easily drag you along. So get out of that water.

The flood will have all kind of stuff in the water that can trap, crush, hurt, drag you along, pull you under water and / or kill you. SO GET OUT OF THE WATER!

If you get wounded - even if you think it's "just a small thing" - tell the rescue workers and medical people. Especially if we talk about open wounds. Yes, also that "little scratch, it's nothing" - show them, tell them!

Another reason to get out of the water - electricity because of damaged power lines.

Never drink, under any circumstances, the polluted water! Never! Doesn't matter how thirsty you are. Don't drink it!

Your #1 priority is keeping your feet dry and warm. After that - your upper body and arms. After that, the rest.

If you're wet and have no clothes to change into (and there is no chance of getting rescued soon): get out of the wet clothes. If you start to shiver, that's the last sign to immediately get out. Cuddle with other people as close as possible. Wrap blankets or jackets or something similar around you. (No longer wearing the wet clothes!) Anything that traps the body heat and keeps it close to you is good.

If you have to cross water, ALWAYS grab something / hold on to something. Check if it's safely secured somewhere. Do not cross water that's higher than your chest (children, depending on age and height: higher than knees / thighs / waist).

If the flood drags you along, your #1 priority is to keep your head above the water. If you can, scream as loud as possible to attract attention. Try to grab / hold on to something. (If you want to help someone, try to throw them a rope or something. If you get in the water to help them, make sure you're tied at something and safely secured. Talk to them when approaching them and try to calm them down! Someone panicking because they fear to drown every second is a risk for you two. If possible, try to grab them from behind.)

If you're about to get evacuated or you try on your own to get to safety - here is what to pack: multiple dry, warm clothes (especially socks) (don't underestimate how cold you can get if you get wet and how dangerous that is) (keep the layering methode in mind to stay warm); your most important documents; your medication for 3-5 days (7 days, if you have enough space) (also write down your medication, medication plan, your diseases and other important medical information and put it in a ziplock or something similar); bottled water and energy / granola bars (canned food you can eat without cooking and you can open easily works too); electronic devices with power banks; food and water for pets if you take them with you; food and water for babies and toodlers; hygienic essentials for you and babies / toddlers; emergency medication; a sharp knife and sharp scissors (Swiss pocket knife is the best solution), flashlights and batteries; something to make fire (if possible: no matches because they can get wet).

If the flood is already high and, for whatever reason, you couldn't get away immediately - so now you try on your own or wait for rescue workers: Write with an edding pen following things on your arms / legs / torso or other body parts: your full (!) name, your age / birth date (day, month and year), blood type, medical conditions and allergies the rescue workers need to know, emergency phone numbers (who should they call if something happens to you / they find you), who's with you (if you you're not alone).

Have emergency medication / medical equipment near you (ibuprofen or paracetamol for wounds, and if you get a fever; things against vomiting and diarrhoea; plasters and bandages; something for disinfection).

If the flood is "over" / no longer rising - it's NOT safe! Shit can still going on under the water surface. Stay away.

If you return to your previous flooded house, stay away from the remaining water! Especially cellars can quickly become a death trap. Also, electricity could be in water and would kill you.

#ukraine #war #russia #never thought i have to make such a post...

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thebottomfromhell · 2 months

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We don’t get enough Zohakuten content so I was hoping you could make some. I was hoping for something like Zohakuten has a friend. Like what would they do? How did they met? How would their friendship start out as? You can make said friend be human or demon, whichever you’d like! Anyways have a great day/night! :)

Let's give Zohakuten friends! With Zohakuten's character it is easier for me to make demon reader in this one. Honestly, I have the personal HC that if it wasn't because of them being enemies, he and Muichiro would be nice friends, if both were demons or both were humans, they would be like Barbie, The princess and the pauper song, but that is a silly idea of mine. I hope you like the work and sorry for having it so late.

GN Demon Reader and Zohakuten become friends

Warning: Cannibalism, Implied body dysphoria (for demon transformarion and age), Mentioned non-character human death

You are in a weird state, you are young, you feel young in every possible sense. Your mind and emotions feel inexperienced, no matter how many years pass, as if time stopped for them just the same it did to your body, that has no aches, no sting, no harm or wrinckle. It's forever... young, almost childishly fake. In that sense, you also do feel lonely, because it's hard to tell of other demons feel like you. If there is something within them saying that it's time to grow up just to be unable to, and not even knowing why. It's the only ich you are allowed to have, that need of growing up fast against the inability to do so.

You lack some sort of awareness, it's not that you are dumb, but you have a harder time to acknowledge certain realities over your original thoughts on any matter. Similar to a child's innocence, but your body does feel experienced. And it is, having already survived thing no human would, from battling men trained with swords to going long periods without drinking water and sleep. Are you an adult in a child's body? Or a child in an adult's body? Do demon even have such a theing as different body types to tell them apart?

It takes you to meet another kid, even if you yourself don't completely feel like a kid, also a demon, to realize... you actually can tell with other demons. You can tell at one gaze "yep, that is a child", for some oddly reason, even with the fact that you have seen demons that literally look like deformed babies and still were able to tell them as an adult. Is it something among all demons or just yourself? You have to wonder that. Still, at first you couldn't move because of the preassure of this kid's presence, and when he looked at you, you were able to figure why.

Upper Four, a rank inside their eyes, his favor. There are a couple seconds of silence where all you can sense in that tiny body, smaller than yours, is hatred. Then, he speaks, his voice not really matching with his aparent age, more mature than you expected, filled with that feeling his hole body expresses. "Do you have any problem with me? Come and say it out loud." You were not expecting to find this, now realizing there is some blood in his mouth and hands. That fact is enough to make you look around for corpses, a squad of slayers not so far, spread all over the place. A mess of blood, organs, limbs and bones, there are at least 5 people in this, you have to wonder you you didn't notice before. Is this the power of an Uppermoon?

"I'm not looking for trouble, just passing by." You say as your mouth get wet, looking away in embarrasment as you swallow your saliva in order to not drool. When was the last time you ate? Now with so much food you feel so hungry, needing to sink your teeth into the pieces of flesh and lick the red juices of the body. More blood, more blood. But... you are not dumb enough to try and fight a kizuki for food, to take away their prey. You feel your stomach ache as it tights up, yearning for the feast in front of you, even growling a bit. It hasn't done that ever since you turned, why now?

The other demon notices, arching his eyebrow, or trying since it's mostly opening one eye and half-closing the other. Then he turns to the masacre behind him and grabs a liver, still attached to a main arterie and with pieces of stomach, shedding some of the inner liquids. By the time you notice, Upper Four is in front of you, still frowning, but offering the piece. "You want some?" You look at him for some seconds, processing the kind gesture. "Are you not going to eat it?" After the question, his frown deeps in as he face contorsts in disgust. "No, I don't like them like this. It doesn't smell sweaty enough and the body was too small, bad quality of growth." .... a picky eater, you can tell by his face and comment. Still, slowly, with no sudden movements, and barely touching the other demon, you take the piece he is offering you before esting it.

He looks at you, gaze softening as you devour the meal, as if enyone would take it away from you. You love the taste, bold in the mouth. Gamey and methalic, and soon after there is an iron-filled sweetness left in your mouth. After seeing you eat, the kid sits, more relaxed, showing no sighs of aggression. His legs are crossed and his arms are resting on his legs. "What is your name?" He asks, curiosity in his eyes, as if you were something different, something he isn't used to. "My name is Y/N." He stays quiet again before saying what you think is his name. "Zohakuten." Zohakuten, really? Who is called "Hatred"? Then again, it's not the worst name you have heard in your long life.

That is a start, you relax, too. At first, it shows when you start eating more, going for the pieces of flesh. Then, you also sit, once you feel satiated enough to not eat, feeling a bit tired and hot with your stomach full. Then, by the time you realize... "Hey, YN, do you have any Demon Blood Art?" You both start talking to each other. The introductions go to chit chat, chit chat goes to laughing, and laughing goes to promising to meet again. "I had fun with you, Y/N. Hope we see each other again."

It's every once in more than 20 years, but you do see each other again, several times. You feel that times pass, at some point, missing talking to Zohakuten. Besides feeling the time he is gone, when you are bored and have nobody to talk to, you... really don't notice. You don't follow a calendar anymore, nor have anything to do bit eat and survive. But besides that, you don't feel... you don't know, change? Probably that is it. Nothing is new, your body and mind remain the same. You don't get new perspective nor any new stimulatioms in your system. But, you do get hypes, you do feel the same as always, there is just nothing new. Maybe that is why you are obssesed with talking, and even playing, with Zohakuten. It does keep your system alive and working at the same time you are good moments with him, and with how rare those moments are, they are always like new.

"Humans are such a bullies, always hoing after such a tiny body. He is smaller than my hand!" He complains, today is just a regular day, but... sometimes he confides on you. On how he feels about the other clones, or the fact that he barely exists, literally, he is only alive when the already separated clones fuse, and other themes. You also discover he actually likes to listen to different sounds a lot, that he likes drums and dragons, he loves to ramble about those. You also get to tell your part, the things you like, the things you don't like, one or another burden and... It's less lonely like this. And times seems to matter less because of that.

"I swear, if I was half as strong as you I wouldn't have to worry in life. Hunting and evading slayers would be easier." Zohakuten looks at you. "Hantengu wouldn't mind having more company, you could stay around, that way I won't have to look for you everytime the others fuse." He offers but you deny, you really doubt it would be any safer to be around a literal Uppermoon than on your own, specially since you met the old man... he is not really hurting you, but by the way he screams and cowers everytime you get close, you can tell he doesn't like you. "Yeah, I'm not sure about that buddy." He looks annoyed for at the answer, pouting a bit. "Fine, but promise me to never die." He says, and... you are not sure if you can promise that... "I can promise to always be your friend." He seems to think about the offer a bit.

"Ok, let's be friends forever, then." He says before leaving, knowing he needs to go back to Hantengu, who ran when he saw you. He always does that, but you smile at the direction the small body left. A friend. "That sounds nice."

#demon slayer #kny #upper moons #zohakuten #hantengu #the demon kids #demon reader #reader-character friendship #character-reader friendship #i love the kid #even if he is a jerk

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