#the world is scary and the world is hard and everyone is someone elses worst nightmare | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

dollfacefantasy · 1 month

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kenny. omg. hear me out. being rick’s stress relief during the alexandria arc of s5 😵‍💫 like omg yeah he’s clean shaven now but can’t go two days w/o fighting w someone from alexandria, got restrained by michonne n everything… figures he needs smth else to keep the group in alexandria’s good graces and settles on smth along the lines of free use w you!! can’t be too shitty of a day if you get fucked into the mattress by the end of it ♡

hnghhh em omg i love you so bad. ur genius for this. i put a little backstory because i'm physically incapable of not being longwinded lol <3

rick grimes x fem!reader

rick needs a little stress relief with all the new responsiblities at alexandria

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, age gap (early 20s/late 30s)

You always thought stress was supposed to decrease someone’s sex drive, but now that you were getting fucked dumb every single night, you were sure that wasn’t true.

Rick had to be the most wound up person you’d ever known, constantly up in arms about something. Ever since he and his group arrived at your once peaceful community, there’d been nothing but conflict. At best it was petty drama, at worst guns were drawn and brains were about to be splattered all over the pavement.

The worst it got was that day you saw him in the middle of the street hunched over the doctor like a rabid dog. You’d stayed back, keeping your distance from him as he waved his gun around and rambled on about control. Crimson blood dripped from his hairline all over his face. You couldn’t tell whether it belonged to him or the incapacitated man beneath him.

You’d never seen anyone like him. Living in Alexandria since the start of the outbreak meant you were pretty sheltered. The people here rarely raised their voices let alone tackled each other through windows. He looked like the physical manifestation of what everyone warned you life outside the walls was like.

It was scary, but you’d be lying if you said it didn’t turn you on.

Needless to say, you were pretty eager to offer yourself up to take the position watching him while the others decided what to do going forward.

You entered the room while he was still asleep. He was as peaceful as you’d ever seen him. Taking a seat in the chair beside the bed, you looked at him almost as if he was encased in glass, a specimen for your examination. His skin still had the scarlet tint of blood. His brown curls lie stuck between his temple and the ratty old pillow on the bed.

It startles you a bit when his eyes flutter open and connect with yours. Awkwardness sludges through your veins, but he looks you over like it’s nothing. You know you’re one of the least threatening people he’s come across in the new world.

“You’re the one they got babysitting me, huh?” he rasps.

“I guess so,” you respond with more timidness than you would like.

His tongue slides out between his lips and licks the chapped skin while he continues to stare you down. It’s hard not to squirm in your seat, to shift your thighs against one another and make your desire known. Before you have a chance to think through your course of action though, he speaks again.

“Are you nervous?” he asks, his tone not looking to provoke a reaction but simultaneously wanting you to recognize your inferiority.

You shrug. He wasn’t gonna get the satisfaction. Not yet anyways.

“Are you scared of me?” he continues.

“No,” you answer.

“Good,” is all he says in response.

That was the last thing he said to you that day, but you could still hear the simple syllable in your mind. He might have been done talking to you. You weren’t through with him though. Under the guise of being assigned to watch him, you continued to linger around him as he went about his tasks in the community.

You tended to follow him around like a puppy. You were curious about him, watching him with inquisitive eyes, peeking over his shoulder as he cleaned his gun or tuned his transceiver. Your gazes were adoring too. It was obvious that you admired the way he could take control of a room with his words, how his people looked to him with reverence when he spoke.

He intoxicated you. In a world lacking things to do, observing Rick became a hobby for you.

He noticed of course, but he couldn’t say he minded. At least someone in this fucking place had an interest in survival and saw the value in listening to him. Plus, it didn’t hurt that you were pretty cute. He didn’t mind your company, didn’t mind teaching you things here and there. In his eyes, you were the least annoying out of all the new people here.

You both were on watch when you got a little promotion from least annoying. The two of you were sitting on the platform attached to the wall. It was night. Neither of you could sleep. Instead of telling you bits and pieces of the nightmares that kept sleep from him, he decided to teach you how to put a scope on a rifle. Nodding along to each thing he says, you watch his fingers and take note of every little thing he does. He gives you a few tries with it, but you’re still struggling to get the thing attached.

That’s when he looks at you, his expression unchanging, and pats his lap.

“C’mere.”

It’s out of your control really. You don’t even have a second to think about it before your legs have pushed you across the platform to the spot he beckoned you. With your back against his chest, his arms encase you and come around front to show you up close how to fasten the scope. When he’s done, he detaches it and makes you try.

His hands slide down your arms, lingering on the skin for longer than needed. They trail down to your sides then your hips. You bite your lip and try to focus on the task he wants you to perform rather than his touch. But then he leans forward to watch your hands work. His chin hovers above your shoulder. You can hear his breaths next to your ear. Once you’ve got it, you can essentially picture his subtle smirk in your mind.

“Good girl,” he croons teasingly.

You turn your head slightly, looking at him with your wide, innocent eyes. He chuckles and reaches up to stroke your cheek. Neither of you know what you’re really doing but one thing leads to another and you’re kissing. Then he’s got his hand up your shirt, groping your tits. It all comes to head and ends up with you straddling him, sinking down on his cock and burying your head in his shoulder.

Biting the fabric of his t-shirt to keep quiet, you begin to rise and fall. It felt so good as if it was what your body had been aching for. You felt the most alive you ever had in this shitty new world, and if the way he was gripping your hips and returning your thrusts were any indication, Rick felt the same way.

You both grunt and moan quietly as your bodies rut together with a primal desire for satisfaction. His lips glide over your collarbone and up your neck to the spot behind your ear. You let out a sharp whine which causes him to grin.

“Need you to be quiet, sweetheart,” he chides, “Don’t want to wake any of the others, do you?”

You’re quick to shake your head and cover your mouth with your palm, but you don’t stop bouncing. You needed him deep, rearranging your insides to a perfect mold for him.

“Then again,” he breathes, “They could stand to learn a thing or two from you. So obedient, eager to please…”

His words trail off as he helps you ride him. You’re so tight and warm, and for the first time since he set foot through those walls, his mind feels clear. He doesn’t hear the constant jabbering for his attention. His head doesn’t throb with the sensation of being pulled in five different directions. It’s like each thrust into your heat clears away a worry. By the time he cums, he feels drained of all his stress.

He needed more of that feeling. He couldn’t get enough of it. It was the start of a routine for the two of you. Everyday at least once, you were getting fucked till you were a drooling, dazed mess. And sometimes it was more than once. Sometimes he had you on your knees in the armory in the afternoon or pulled you into a storage closet on a morning supply run.

He had fifteen years on you, but most of the time he was the one leaving you exhausted.

And today had been a particularly bad day for Rick. Everything that could go wrong did. Alexandria was running low on a collection of different things, walkers were gathering at the East wall, one of the gate’s locks was rusting, a sprinkler broke, and on top of everything, he had to deal with everyone’s constant bitching.

The only thing that kept him from losing his shit was the thought of you laid in his bed at night waiting for him, batting your long eyelashes over those pretty doe eyes as you sat there in nothing but his t-shirt and a pair of panties. The end of the day couldn’t come soon enough.

He grits his teeth and dashes all across the community to try and get everything solved by sundown. The workload keeps him busy which fortunately makes the time go by faster. He also tries his best to keep his cool with people. There was no use starting petty conflicts when he had something much nicer to screw with now.

As soon as everyone’s headed off to bed and all the perimeters have been checked, he can’t get home fast enough. He’s quiet coming in. He didn’t wanna wake anyone. If someone got in his way now, he’d flip his lid worse than any of them had ever seen.

He’s up the stairs in seconds, taking them two at a time. Whisking the bedroom door open, a deep sigh seeps from his lungs as he sees his daydreams become realities of the night. Your pretty legs are on display for him as you lounge in the bed reading a book. He crosses the room and grabs you by the ankle to pull you closer to the edge of the bed. You already know what time it is and feel a dull tingle in the pit of your belly.

“Stressful day?” you ask as you finish the page you were on.

“Is the sky still blue?” he grumbles as he presses a kiss to your calf then another further up against your knee.

You smile at the quip, placing the book on the nightstand just in time as he flips you over onto your stomach. He climbs on top of you, squeezing your waist and nuzzling his face against your neck.

“Those people don’t even know how much they should be thanking you, baby,” he mumbles, “They don’t even know how many times a day you save their asses.”

You squirm a little beneath him as his fingers hook around your panties and tug them down. The sound of his zipper follows and it’s no time before you feel the weight of his dick against you.

“Needed you so bad all day,” he says.

“I needed you too,” you whimper as you feel slick gathering between your thighs.

He nips at your earlobe and rubs his hands up under his shirt you have on to tease the sides of your breasts.

“S’cute, honey,” he whispers, “Thinking about me while you did your little chores, hm?”

“Yeah,” you whine as he starts to line himself up and slot himself in the correct position.

It was such a familiar feeling, but each time it still made a chill run through you. Your insides ached with the pleasure that came from being filled up by him.

“Perfect girl. That’s just the way it should be,” he mutters.

He wastes no time before he starts thrusting. It only takes a couple before he starts groaning too. On nights like these, he was in no mood to take his time or savor the moment.

“So tight for me, Christ,” he chokes out, “There’s nothing like you.”

You moan softly too, putting your head down to muffle your sounds with the blanket. His hand rests around your neck for leverage as he fucks into you faster.

“That’s right, pretty baby. You’re so good for me. Givin’ me what I need. You’re the only one who can,” he grunts.

He snaps his hips harder, trying to find the limit of how hard he could go without being too loud or smacking the headboard into the wall. You claw at the ratty blankets on the bed as your toes curl. Your head turns to the side a little to peek up at him, and his eyes roll back.

“Everyone’s always fucking looking to me for something. No one can look at me like you can though. Those gorgeous eyes, all glossy for me. Not a thought behind ‘em right now,” he pants.

You nod weakly while digging your teeth into your lip again. It was getting harder to suppress the noises with the blanket alone.

“Rick…” you whimper, “Oh fuck, Rick.”

You gasp as he starts hitting the perfect spot. His stiff cock slips effortlessly in and out of you over and over and brushes that nook each time.

“Mhm. You’re the only one I wanna hear calling my name. Everyone here’s always whining for me, bitching for something. Not my girl though. The only time I hear you whining is when I’m balls deep, fucking you like you deserve,” he whispers.

You nod against the mattress. Your body rocks with the momentum of each thrust. Every stroke was working you closer to the edge, and Rick could feel his own impending as well.

Both his hands slide down to your hips to grip them hard. He keeps grinding and rolling his hips into you.

“Give it to me, princess. Lemme feel it. Gotta get my fix,” he says just as you start to tense up and jerk around below him.

You cum with a high moan into the plush fabric beneath you. Your body trembles and twitches as it handles the rush of euphoria. He keeps fucking you through it. His own noises start getting needier, closer to whimpers than groans. He grunts for a second as he finally feels release. He pulls out quickly and lets it spurt all over your ass. He’d so much rather do it inside, but he really didn’t need something else to worry about nine months from now.

With his release, the both of you are able to settle down for the night. He rolls off of you and quickly gets you cleaned up, so he can crawl into bed and hold you against his chest. The second most soothing thing to your pussy was the warmth of your body against him.

“So good for me, sweetheart. Always make things so good for me,” he sighs and lazily kisses your head, ready to drift off with the comfort of knowing this little scene would repeat itself tomorrow.

#rick grimes x reader #rick grimes x you #rick grimes x y/n #rick grimes imagine #rick grimes smut #twd smut #twd x reader #twd x you #twd x y/n #twd imagine

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writteninlunarlight-years · 1 month

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Could I ask for an Alastor getting Hanahaki over Reader and everyone has to chip in to help him out? He's afraid of losing them as they're the only one who's never been afraid of Alastor (sure the Radio Demon part is creepy asf but Reader looks past it to befriend him) and would rather die alone then lose their presence.

The others figure out what Hanahaki is after finding him coughing up flowers one day and they each pitch in to help him through it; even Lucifer helps. And Charlie threatens Al with telling Rosie and Mimzy (you decide if they need to get involved)

Just everyone helping Alastor not second-die, him being confused as to why they're helping him and learning he has more friends then he realizes (and is nicer to them as it goes on) and also Reader being incredibly fucking confused as to what's been going on.

Sorry if it's a lot! And thank you in advance if you decide to write it ^-^

~~~ ALASTOR X READER ~~~

Hanahaki! Alastor x F!Reader

'A flower cannot blossom without sunshine, and a man cannot live without love." - Max Muller

Trigger Warning: mentions abuse, vomiting, near-death experiences, cringe obliviousness

Alastor knew he was feared among mortals and sinners. He was the equivalent of a boogie man, so to speak. He had no time for trivial things like love, relationships, or weakness. He had to be strong, always ahead of the game, and ready to take anyone who dared to oppose him. Well, that was till you came along. You were an enigma; he had heard about you when you appeared in the realm of sinners; however, you were fierce in the human world. Every man that wrongly touched a woman or attacked a woman was soon dealt with by your hand. You tortured them, strung them up, and ended their lives slowly. Alastor was impressed, to say the least.

However, when you turned up on the Hotel's doorstep six months ago, you were anything but scary. You looked innocent, almost too innocent. Alastor tried so hard to hate you to think nothing but the worst in you, but you had a grip on him. It's not every day that someone is entirely unphased by him. The day you two met was like nothing before; everyone in hell knew of him and his reputation. You even did, too; you had to have known of this since Rosie was the one who suggested you find refuge in the Hotel. Yet you looked up at him when he loomed over you and just smiled.

The Radio Demon was known for the catchphrase 'never truly dressed without a smile,' but somehow yours was just as off-putting as his, like you learned something no one else ever would. He enjoyed that about you. That you were so full of kindness and energy but also something so dark and twisted. Before Alastor knew it, he took you in as an apprentice. The end goal is to teach you his ways and your soul; well, that would be his. That was always the plan to create a powerful accomplice to assist in his dirty deeds, yet something changed over time.

Alastor didn't remember when he started protecting, defending, or even fighting for you. It all happened out of nowhere. He hated all of it, but he couldn't stop himself. Slowly, as time passed, he sought guidance for these newfound emotions, leading us to now.

Alastor made his way to the bookshop in town, the best place to get anything involving the damned and dead. These newfound feelings could be an ailment of sorts, perhaps. As he perused the books, he bumped into you, of all people. Shocked, he spoke, "Hello, doll, good to see you here. Are you catching up on some light reading?"

As he said this, he looked down at the book in your hand and noticed the book was covered in an arrangement of flowers. It's odd for being a book in hell for it to look so innocent and cheap. As he was questioning the existence of this book, you spoke up. "Alastor, what a pleasure it is to see you here! I was researching sicknesses and curses from the mortal realm when I stumbled upon this book. It's pretty, no?"

Alastor looked at you and the sweet look in your eyes and couldn't help but nod in agreement with you. God, if he truly existed, needed to help get him whatever cure was necessary for these stupid thoughts. Alastor took the book from your hands, observing the details, and flipped through the pages gently. He looked back over to you when he spoke. "Dear, why don't I buy this for you? If I remember correctly, you have a date with Ms. Rosie soon. I would hate for you to miss your confidential meet-up."

You nodded gently, smiling that same eerie smile as always, making your way out the door, not before leaving a generous tip for the demon at the counter. You were always kind and gentle to those who had done no wrong to you or your loved ones. Yet when someone wronged anyone close to you, they would coincidentally go missing. You were like a gorgeous rose with those incredibly thin secret thorns. Alastor went to the front soon after you and placed the books you two had found on the front counter. As the shopkeeper looked up to see the grinning radio host, he just ducked back down, minding his business. Alastor smiled, dropping some coins in the jar before returning to the hotel.

Once inside, Alastor made his way to his tower, ready to read the books that may cure these insufferable feelings he has been having towards you. The first book on the document, "Freudian Emotions," As Alastor read through the book, he couldn't help but be mildly disgusted and enamored with the literature. Who just openly admits they were in love with their mother? Who was the man who wrote this book? Deeming the book unsatisfactory, Alastor moved on to the next, "How to know understand your darker feelings". This book pertains to many of Alastor's emotions when he was in the mood to kill or harm. Only the chapter 'Lust' has mild insinuations of the random emotions he was suddenly feeling. Another dud he surely would need to pay that shop keeps another visit to request better literature.

As Alastor thought everything was lost, he noticed your book again. Taking a closer look at it, one would call it eloquent. The sage green cover was adorned with thousands of different flowers. The title reading, "Ancient Alments of the Flowers and Gods," piqued his interest greatly. As he skimmed through the pages, he saw countless excerpts about those who scorned the gods and curses placed upon them. One specific page really caught his attention, it was about an ailment called 'Hanahaki'. Someone with feelings of unrequited love would profusely vomit flowers till their feelings were requited. The other option was an intense surgical procedure that would leave the person affected loveless. Underneath a picture of a young girl with flowers around her and coming out of her mouth was a message. It was hard to make out; Alastor moved the book closer to his face.

Squinting closer at the message, Alastor mumbled, 'A Flower Can Not Blossom Without Sunshine, Just As One Can Not Live Life Without Love.' As those words left his mouth, his fate was sealed. A sudden urge to get sick overtook Alastor as he dropped the book on the ground and ran to the bathroom down the hall. There, he passed a confused Angel Dust, putting on more makeup in the mirror. Alastor made it to the toilet where he proceeded to get violently ill.....with......flowers. Flowers? Why flowers? As Alastor tried to process the turn of events, Angel Dust popped his head in. "Uh, radio man, you good? I don't think I have ever seen you get sic- Oh god, why are there flowers everywhere?"

Before Alastor could pop his head up enough to respond, he threw up more flowers. Standing up woozy, he washed his face in the sink before turning to the spider demon. "I don't know what's wrong. I read this book Y/N bought, and now I am seemingly throwing up flowers."

Angel nodded, lending a hand to the demon and helping him straighten himself out. The two started to head out of the bathroom when the woman herself appeared out of nowhere. "Hi, guys! Oh, Alastor, are you okay?" Concern was evident in her voice, and it was adorable when she worried about him.

Before Alastor knew it, though, he was pushing Angel towards the girl and returning to throw up some more. With some gentle words from Angel and a lot of persistence, finally Y/N left. Once she was far enough away, Alastor was freed from the clutches of flowers once again. Sighing, he turned to the spider demon, "Angel, good fellow, I need to find where I dropped that book."

Angel joined Alastor in the hunt for the book and kept Y/N away. Luckily, they made it back to the radio tower unscathed. Once the book was found, Angel and Alastor began digging into it. Nothing came of it except a simple smirk from Angel. "Alastor, do you have feelings for little Miss Y/N?"

Alastor looked at the demon, puzzled. What a stupid question to ask while he was here, vomiting flowers. Yes, he had some odd feelings he didn't understand right now, but nothing like what that stupid book described. Angel sighed, shaking his head, and went for the door. Alastor was in a panic, "Where are you going? Are you not going to help me?"

Angel turned to Alastor, "I'm going to get more help because you obviously don't realize what everyone has been seeing since the day that girl arrived."

Alastor looked at Angel quizzically as he left. Sitting on the floor of the tower, he thought about everything. He understood the explanation of the curse in that stupid book was about someone loving another who didn't return the feelings, but he had never experienced love before. Well, he had for his momma, but not another. Would he describe these odd feelings he had for you as love? While lost in thought, Angel appeared with Husk, Charlie, and Vaggie hot on his tail.

As Alastor was snapped out of his thoughts, a concerned Charlie appeared before him. "Alastor! Angel told us everything. Are you alright? Where is Y/N? Should she be here too?"

As the young girl's name left the princess's lips, the sick feeling happened again. He turned to his side and started to vomit more flowers. Everyone was in shock. When he was done, he turned and looked up at the others. Angel picked up the cursed book and handed it to the others for them to read. It clicked for everyone as soon as they got to the message at the bottom. Alastor was in love but didn't realize it.

Alastor sat weak and groggy, observing from the sideline as everyone huddled together. Rolling his eyes, he went to stand and go about his day when he was ushered into his seat by the group. Now, sitting in his hosting chair, everyone lined up before him. Charlie stepped forward, "Alastor, you are in love with Y/N!"

Again, as the name left Charlie's lips, Alastor doubled over, vomiting profusely. Flowers littered the room; all anyone really could think was that at least it smelt good. Angel placed his hand on the Radio Demon's shoulder and turned to Charlie, "Toots, I think we should avoid saying her name for now until at least we come up with a plan."

Alastor shook his head and looked up. "Where is she? I don't know what will happen if I see her again right now. Just her name is causing this. I would hate for it to be worse."

Everyone nodded. Husk said, "After Angel told me what was happening, I convinced her Rosie needed her." A sigh of relief was heard from everyone in the room. Alastor looked to the crew in front of him and spoke again, "I don't even know what love is, so why has that damned book cursed me?"

The group looked at each other and nodded, lining back up. Angel stepped forward first: "Exhibit A, When she who shall not be named appeared at the hotel, she was unafraid of you. You came to me later that evening and asked if your name was still prevalent in the demon community. When I confirmed it was, you stared at her for hours and kept mumbling, 'Fascinating, truly fascinating.'

Alastor blanched at the omission, not ready for the retelling of the last six months of his life. He couldn't deny, though, that having someone not immediately afraid of him was refreshing. Over the six months he had known you, he repeatedly tried to make you scared. Nothing happened, though. You always just smiled and went about your day with him.

Next up was Vaggie, "When we were all practicing for the war with the angels, and she was fighting with one of the cannibals, you asked me how her form was so perfect. You were enamored with her when I explained that she had to have been a fighter in one of her lifetimes. I don't think you stopped staring at her while she was practicing that whole day."

Alastor turned his head away from his friends, feeling a bit warm. He couldn't deny your fighting form was gorgeous. You were fierce on the field that day. Constantly slaying enemies, though you were beautiful in red, the Gold that adorned your face after you slew the angels was something else. Not to mention, you were the one who found him in the wreckage of the radio tower that day. You helped him and tended to his wounds before returning to the others during the rebuild phase. He vividly remembers how you were right there, so close yet so far.

Husk stepped up to the plate: "The night that she drank herself silly at the bar after losing Pentious, you sat with her the whole night while she talked. You never do that, and I would know. You even carried her to her room when she passed out."

It was confirmed that he watched you drink your heart out once the hotel was rebuilt. Crying profusely over the snake man. A part of him felt anger that you felt so strongly towards another, but it also hurt him to see someone he 'cared' for hurting. When you finally passed out, he realized how soft your features were. You were so calm and delicate but also so fierce and aggressive. He picked you up so delicately and carried you to your room across the hotel. When he laid you down, you gripped him and mumbled, 'Be safe, Alastor, please.' Hearing that, his heart was alight.

Finally, Charlie took center stage, " On top of all these instances, you've not once asked for her soul, nor have you made a deal with her, nor have you made any insulting comments."

Alastor stalled....was that true? He knew deep down it was. He continually lied to himself; he was only interested in you because he wanted your soul. Did he really want to force you into servitude, though? Everything came crashing down on Alastor so quickly. There was no way was he....was he...in love. As the pieces clicked for the Radio Demon he hunched over in the chair spilling his guts full of flowers out, this time they weren't just any flowers, they were Roses. He always compared you to roses, your beautiful soft exterior covered with those hidden thorns.

As the coughing of flowers ended, he looked at his friends. They all were smiling, waiting for him to admit it himself. Alastor didn't know what scared him the most: that he loved you or that all these people cared enough about him to remember such antics. Did these people actually have so little time in their dreary lives? "Thank you all for the trip down memory lane, though I understand I apparently love......her......how does this help my situation?"

The group looked astonished at the thanks but contemplated the weight of his words. It's great he understood, but how did you feel? You were an enigma to everyone, eager to help and lend a hand but keeping your heart close to your chest. Charlie, in all her wisdom, spoke, "Go to Rosies and profess your love right now! No woman can resist a sweet confession!"

Angel laughed, "Sorry, toots, but I would deny a man who went to tell me he loved me and then vomited on me."

Husk said, "At least the vomit is flowers that could be a plus if not mildly concerning for the girl."

Alastor listened to everyone's points; going to Rosie wouldn't do, and it would just be too much and embarrassing. He had a front to keep all these other demons in the realm, still had to know who was in charge. While everyone was deep in thought, the door to the radio tower opened. Everyone turned to the noise. Alastor, still sitting, couldn't see what was happening. "I heard from a little birdie's phone that we need a magical love confession!" Oh god not Lucifer, may an Exicutioner strike Alastor down now.

"Dad! Yes, Alastor needs an amazing proposal that won't be hindered by his uh issues." Charlie exclaimed.

"Oh, you are talking to the king of romance, baby! Here's the plan!"

~~~~~ Time Jump ~~~~~

A week had passed since Alastor came to terms with his feelings and realized he had more friends than not. However, this elaborate plan for each person in the hotel to try and get Y/N to confess she had feelings too was becoming too much. The symptoms of the Hanahaki were becoming too much. Her voice alone now was making him vomit. So far, each attempted love confession ended with the girl being overly confused and concerned about where Alastor was hiding. They usually were inseparable, but he had avoided her for a week since the bookstore.

This is where Lucifer's plan came to a head; see what he told everyone to do: get her to confess. In reality, he planted the seeds of worry and doubt in the young girl's mind. If she also loved Alastor, she would seek him out and confess herself. Maybe she was just as oblivious as the Radio Demon. The sweet, innocent young demon was starting to bear her fangs and claws, as luck would have it. Lucifer was an avid Kdrama stan. Of course, he knew how this troupe would play out and took the right amount of push from the group.

Alastor was also growing to miss you; the more he agreed with his feelings, the more he was worried about what you were doing if you hated him for disappearing, and if you were going to accept him. As the thoughts plagued his mind, a timid knock was heard on his door. Standing up and straightening himself out, Alastor opened the door. There you stood in all your glory. He could tell you hadn't been sleeping from the bags under your eyes, and you looked a little pale, probably from not caring for yourself from worry. He was so happy to see you, ecstatic that you cared! Well, till he started to vomit flowers again.

Panic ran across your face as you reached out to help Alastor; however, your touch only worsened things. The flowers were changing colors; rushing to sit him down, you noticed the book you had wanted to buy a week ago. Picking it up on the page it was on, you saw the term 'Hanahaki.' Reading through the page after noticing the girl in the picture had the same ailment as Alastor, you grew upset. He was in love with someone....who? You got to the part of the passage that has a message. 'A Flower Can Not Blossom Without Sunshine, Just As One Can Not Live Life Without Love.' As you spoke those words, Alastor grew worried. What if the same aliment that was affecting him now also affected you. Not only would he worry about your health, but he would know you didn't love him.

After a few minutes, nothing happened; Alastor didn't know how to feel. Were you not in love at all? While contemplating all these thoughts, the flowers came up again, so you didn't love him back; he would have to resort to some stupid surgery to be okay again. Coughing out the last flowers, Alastor stood, "I'll be fine, doll. Just leave me be."

"Who is she...or he...whoever?" He could hear the sadness in your voice. Why were you asking him who caused his ailment?

"Never mind....we should get you help.... or get you to confess something so you can live normally again." You were doing everything in your power to hold back the tears. Alastor reached out and moved some fallen hair behind your ear.

"Who do you want me to be in love with?" Alastor spoke timidly for the first time in his lifetimes since he was a child. He was afraid of your rejection, the illness, something, anything. You did so many strange things to him. As you looked up into his eyes and he saw the hints of tears forming, for once, he didn't feel like vomiting. Slowly inching forward, he placed a soft kiss on your lips. Gently, like at any moment, everything could be ruined.

When you kissed back, Alastor felt light. Once you two pulled away for air, he was prepared for more flowers. Your voice alone made him throw them up; he was worried about touching you. Nothing came. He looked down at you once more and smiled his signature grin. "Doll, I dare say, do you love me back? No wonder you didn't get cursed with the ailment when you read the passage."

You smiled softly at him, wrapping him in a hug. Things were back to normal again, and now, with you two together, hell had a whole new list of worries to deal with. Who knew the Radio Demon would only grow stronger once he found the love of his lifetime?

#x reader #alastor #alastor the radio demon #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor x reader #radio demon #hazbin #hazbinhotel #hazbin hotel #hotel hazbin #hazbin hotel x reader

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saylessastrology · 1 year

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Favorite Moon Placements/Signs/Aspects 🌝🌙🌛

Moon In Sagittarius:

okay, I’m biased because this is my placement but we are so liiiit! We make great friends! This placement makes the person super straightforward and optimistic! Like we give a fuck but only for a short amount of time. But don’t piss us off because our mouths are foul! We will be mad and vengeful one moment then get bored with the situation the next LoL

Moon in Aries:

This placement is bold af! They don’t hold back on their opinions or emotions. When they are emotionally triggered just let them get it out! Suppressing this placement will result in some serious repercussions! My coworker has this placement and when she has a bad day EVERYBODY KNOWS! You can see the smoke coming out of their ears lol. But they are sooo loveable and warm! They give great hugs too!

Moon in Libra:

These people are so peaceful and pleasant lol. They may have trouble deciding on what to wear or what place to eat but they are never one to make a big fuss out of things. They believe emotions should be expressed in beautiful ways. Even their arguments have a “let’s solve this” tone.

Moon in Cancer:

I truly think these people are the most fiery of the water signs! They are soft and cuddle until you trigger them. I also think they are so moody because of the many phases of the moon always changing. You’ll know when they are pissed. The way they go off is like someone’s fed-up mother who’s about to whoop your ass! Lol scary stuff

Moon in 8th house or Scorpio:

I love these placements because these people really know how to connect emotionally with their loved ones. They love and feel deeply. The way they protect their loved ones is soo cute like a mamma bear defending their cubs. They have so much emotional self-control until they can no longer suppress it.

Moon in 5th house or Leo

(biased again hehe) These people are FUN! We love a good time and tend to come alive when we are out on the town! In our opinion emotional expression should feel fun and dramatic! When we get emotional we expect your full attention or we will feel neglected and ignored! We are the type of friend to drunkenly shout “omg I like be you guys!” to our friends in a quiet public area and you BETTER say it back or we will cry lmao

Moon trine/sextile/conjunct Mars

These people are naturally impulsive but their intentions are perfectly lined up with their emotions. It’s not that they don’t think before they act, they just believe their actions are justified based on the emotions they feel. I notice many women with this placement are real “girls girls” who know how to make and balance friendships with women and men equally because their masculine and feminine energies do not throw each other off.

Moon aspecting Neptune

These people must to be protected at all times! ❤️ They are so soft and sensitive to the world around them. They can pick up on your hidden emotions and verbally translate them in mystical ways you’ve never thought of. They see things differently from everyone else. They can find the most redeeming qualities in even the worst people. They also tend to forgive and forget waay too soon.

Moon aspecting Saturn or Capricorn moon

Rather it be a hard or soft aspect these people are extremely emotionally determined individuals. They possess the emotional strength to bound back from life’s most challenging obstacles. I love how sweet and mature these people are when it comes to expressing their emotions. Even when they are in a heightened emotional state, they still have control over their reactions. This is another placement that needs a hug because they are SOOOO hard on themselves for simply being human and feeling emotional. They may have grown up with an emotionally suppressive parent or guardian that taught them that their emotions are not as important as others. BREAK FREE MOON/SATURN! ❤️❤️❤️❤️ You deserve emotional freedom too!

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dipdieddreams · 5 months

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Every time I wonder whether to tell someone that it’s been a really fucking hard few months to be a Jewish person and I’ve been scared that this is it, this is how the Holocaust started.

I wonder if they will be shocked or scared for me, I wonder if they will separate their pro Palestinians views and hatred/fear of being accused of being racist. One friend who had posted antisemitic stuff on Instagram went white when I told her I realised just how many people hated Jewish people. And it’s like well… you contributed but I didn’t say that.

I’ve had to honestly decide whether friendships are worth giving up. Worth fighting for. And I always wonder no matter how much I tell people, they will still be antisemitic.

And they do not understand and will not listen when I tell them they are being racist, they are making the world unsafe for me.

And the worst perpetrator was my best friend. I don’t think I even have any idea how profound and scary that loss has been.

I’ll never get her back because she will never listen to Jewish history, never listen to what I have to say. I tried and failed.

Another friend I know is pro Palestinian even in peace time and I outright told them I wanted to smack everyone with a book about Jewish history and they went silent, it’s not right but what else can I do?

#aswisdomcomesquietly #jumblr #I/p #more ip crap #antisemitism

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carlgrimesenthusiast · 11 months

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reader is new to alexandria so rick asks Carl to show her around, she's distant and is full on guard since she doesnt trust anyone yet, carl tries to convince her that she's safe now, "Look, I know this must be scary for you, to be alone in this world, but you're safe, now. You can trust us, we'll - I WILL keep you safe." hehehehe

YOU’RE NOT ALONE || carl grimes x fem!reader

a/n: hi anon, i love the idea of this!! i really enjoyed writing this so i hope you enjoy reading this. buckle in, this is a long one!!

ever since the apocalypse started, you’ve been all alone. hell, you haven’t even met anybody that was true to you. sure you’ve met some people along the way but they’ve never stuck by your side. they’ve died, left you or simply tried to kill you. you knew that there would be some people who would try to murder you, so of course, you had ways in your head to protect yourself. you didn’t mind meeting people though, it meant that they could share whatever supplies they had, food, water, etcetera.

you weren’t the best at hunting either, you had to ration your food or simply have to find food like everyone else. clean water was hard to find, you either had to filter the water or go to wrecked out supermarkets hoping they’d have something.

some days you hit bullseye, finding an abandoned store full of food and water. some days were the worst, you would’ve been treading around everywhere but couldn’t find any source. your legs tired, sweat dribbling, feet aching, back aching and you arms becoming lazy. you couldn’t stop walking until you found somewhere safe to stay the night else you definitely would regret it.

these problems all disappear as soon as you come contact with two men. one with dark, long dark brown hair with a beard coming and the other guy with soon to all be grey hair with a shaven face.

“how old are you?” one of them ask.

“16.” you lied. you have no clue how old you are since you don’t even know what year it is, what month is or date.

“how many walkers have you killed?” the other asks with his grasp voice.

“every single one i come across.” you thought walkers were what they called the creatures, and you were correct. you‘ve seen many, many walkers and have killed them all. the more gone, the less there are which means the easier to live. it was easy anyways, they were slow, anyone would be able to outrun them.

the two guys glance at each other, “how many people have you killed?”

“2.” you sigh, you didn’t know if they thought that’s bad or good.

“why?” he questions, not daring to look away.

“one of them tried to steal my supplies and the other one tried to kill me.” you didn’t want to die, you wanted to see how long this apocalypse would last and if the world will turn back to normal. there were very low chances of that happening but a girl can hope.

the two guys look at each other and nod, “come with us, we have a safe place you can stay.” your eyes lighten up. you did not expect that, your jaw dropped.

“seriously?” you ask, shock filling your expressions. the one with long, dark brown hair simply nods.

“the names daryl ‘nd thats rick.” he points his thumb in ricks direction.

“y/n.” you say, “let’s get to this place then.” you start walking ahead of them.

you didn’t make it to six steps before one of them spoke, “it’s this way.” rick points in the other direction.

“oh, okay.” you embarrassingly turned around and made your way to the correct direction.

“this is alexandria.” rick says, someone behind the gates dragged it open, revealing all the beautiful houses. just like before. the trees tall and thick, smiles on everyone’s faces, people doing daily jobs, families taking walks. just like before.

they gesture for you to go in first as you do so, “where did you find her…” you heard someone whisper from behind you, you turned around to see a girl with long, black hair and brown clear skin.

“we just came across her, she’s young, we can’t just leave her.” rick whispers back, you noticed daryl wasn’t there anymore. you turn around to look where he disappeared off to. you saw him walking off into the distance, he’s probably not that sociable. “so,” you were bought out of your thoughts, rick started walking off so you followed where he was going, “i’ll get my son to show you around since there’s other work to be done here, everybody has a job. you need to contribute to help us move forward, if you have a problem with that you can happily leave.” he glances down at you. “you can help sort the food out, make sure equal amounts go to each household, go on a run and find weapons or food, planting to grow our own vegetables, sorting out supplies, making sure that each house have toilet paper, towels, all the essentials.” you nod as you heard him list everything. planting sounds the best to you but sorting out supplies brings you more satisfaction.

as you walk across the road, many people wave and smile at rick. he returns them all, putting his thumbs up at everyone whilst smiling as well.

“carl!” he shouts, a boy with long, brown hair turns around. he was wearing a cowboy hat and a flannel shit unbuttoned with a white shirt beneath. “this is y/n, you need to show her around. show her how the different jobs work around here, each area and also her own house.” rick explains. you get your own house?! woah this is gonna be fun

carl looks down at you. you weren’t incredibly smaller than him, just reaching about his eye length. “yeah, okay dad.” rick walks off going to do whatever. “so, how old are you.” carl asks, you follow wherever he’s going.

“16.”

“seriously? me too.” carl chuckles. it wasn’t funny. you thought. you raised your eyebrows quickly, giving a close lipped smile just to be supportive to him. “do you have any siblings.” what do you think? if i did, they would be by my side. you hesitate to answer, you didn’t know if you good trust these people. this whole place was too good to be true. to be honest, you didn’t remember if you had any. your mind went blank. you look up to see carl staring right down at you, carl could sense that you were probably scared. “hey-“ before carl could say anything else he was interrupted by some girl. she has brown hair and fair skin.

“carl, judith is crying for somebody. i can’t find your dad or michonne.” the girl has a worried expression on her face. “who’s this?” she points towards you. she looks you up and down, daringly. you crossed your arms.

“enid, this is y/n. y/n this is enid.” carl says, swaying from side to side slightly with his hands in his pockets. “i’ll be there soon, i want to finish showing y/n around.”

“oh, okay. be quick.” enid smiles up at carl, then looks at you and walks away.

“anyways, let me show you where we do the planting.” carl says, he walks next to you, side by side. he brings you to an area with rows of soil and grass. carrots, lettuce, tomatoes, potatoes and more all growing. you could see that the lettuce were grown and somebody was removing them from their roots. another gardener was giving the soil water. water. you haven’t had fresh, clean water in a very long time. now you know what the first thing you would do, would be.

you space out, and it was very visible to carl. “hey,” he waved his hands in front of your face, bringing you out of your thoughts. “you good?” he looks concern. you just stared up at him, studying his features. your eyes started to blur, you felt…guilty. your family wasn’t here to share all these wonderful things. the amount of luck you had was impeccable. their bodies were decomposed, nothing left but a pile of bones. and here you were, bathing in all this sunshine and happiness. an accidental tear slipped down your face. “y/n, are you alright? what happened?” your head shot in carls direction, which was very close to your face. you hand immediately wipes off the tear that fell.

“can you just show me my house.” you didn’t dare look at carl, already embarrassed from crying right in front of him. why did you have to cry now?! you could’ve done it when nobody was in sight, were nobody would see or judge you. carl felt bad for you, but had no clue why you were upset. he knew that the best thing to do was just show you were your new home would be.

“this way…” he walks ahead of you this time, thinking that this all startled you or it’s too much to take in right now. i mean, he understands at some angle, and he knows everyone would react differently. he just didn’t expect crying, but all to their own. he occasionally did check behind him to see if you were behind him and didn’t just walk off. “here.” you reach the house, looking up to see chairs sitting out. you walk up the stairs, turning around and looking at the rest of the houses, all so beautiful. carl opens the door, letting you go in first. you enter in, turning on the light switch. all the furniture, nice and neat. not a speck of dirt anywhere. sunshine beaming into the room, you love it. “hope you like it.” were the last words you hear from carl before you heard the door shut. you walked around the house your house. the thought of not needing to pay for the house, and owning a house at your young house surprised you! you ran your finger against the kitchen counters, marble. you continue to look around the house, all this made you so happy.

the next morning came, and you open the drawers to see fresh sets of clothing. you put them on, not needing to shower since you took one last night. you enter your bathroom to see…perfumes? two perfumes. you spray it on your clothes, quite nice. you heard a knock on the door, you travel down the stairs and open the door to see…carl standing there.

“hi y/n.” he gleams at you, “you feeling better today?” carl asks, your heart warms when he asked you that. maybe you could actually trust them…or at least carl.

“yeah, much better. that shower really made my mood go up.” you smile, carl chuckles. you weren’t lying, that hot shower really did it for you. finally feeling clean is the best thing you could hope for, especially in a apocalypse.

“that’s really good,” he smiles, “but it’s time for your job…since gardening was the only thing you saw, do you want that as your chore?”

“okay.” you didn’t mind gardening, in fact, you were going to choose it regardless. it was calming and peaceful and quiet, and not tiring. plus, it was fun.

“hey, uh, you should know that you can trust us…” carl looks down at the floor, shy. he looks back up at you not taking your eyes off of him. “ look, i know this must be scary for you, to be alone in this word, but you’re safe, now. you can trust us, we’ll - I WILL keep you safe.” carl spoke confidently. your gaze on carl softened, he was pure in the heart. “my dad told me that people you’ve met before coming here have treated you disgustingly, but i can assure you, that will not happen. nobody will be nasty to you, treat you wrong. you’re safe here, i’ll be your personal bodyguard.”

you giggle, carls eyes lightens as he sees you laugh. the most beautiful laugh he has ever heard. “you’ll be my personal bodyguard?” you laugh, you like the thought of having carl be one. you can trust him, can’t you. it’ll take time for him to fully gain your trust, and carl knew that.

a/n: she’s a long one, wasn’t she? i need to start putting this much effort into my next ones. hope you enjoyed!! (my longest fic) not proofread!

#carl grimes #carl grimes x reader #the walking dead #carl grimes fluff #carl grimes smut #carl grimes twd #smut #carl grimes fanfiction #carl grimes angst

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esha-isboogara · 1 year

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what your favorite jojo character says about you !

these are my takes on what kind of person you are based on your fave ;)

jonathan- you’re way too good for this world and i will protect you with my life!! you always choose the “nice” option when you’re playing an rpg/otome. i bet you cry during movies. you’re a dog person but you’re not annoying about it.

speedwagon- you’re either the kind of person that has a waifu unironicly or you’re too afraid to disagree with other peoples opinions. you were for sure bullied in school for liking anime and never really recovered .

joseph- you think you’re the funniest person in the room but in reality have the sense of humor of a middle school boy and everyone thinks you’re annoying. you have no idea how to act in public

ceaser- you most definitely get bitches.

jotaro- you’re either too horny for your own good or youre the kind of person who automatically chooses the most basic mc because it’s the safest. you probably never outgrew your emo phase and i guarantee you read lots of hardcore smut in middle school.

kakyoin- you use the word milfs way too much. it’s actually kind of annoying. please shut up. on the other hand you know how to dress!! for some reason every single kak stan knows their way around fashion. your probably an avid markiplier enjoyer.

avdol- you had a crush on zuko in middle school and i bet you carry a lighter everywhere. you don’t smoke or anything you just carry it to carry it. you’re like super mature for some reason and you are the brains of the friend group most likely.

polnareff- you’re a bit dense but we love you anyways. you have zero clue how to express your emotions. please stop letting people trauma dump on you :( you don’t deserve it babe

iggy- shut THE FUCK up

josuke- you are the coolest person on earth. you have no flaws. you are a god.

okuyasu- you’re the dumb friend. i’m sorry to tell you like this but someone had to. you make up for your lack of brain cells with your big heart <3 i bet you know lots of random facts about uselessness things as well.

rohan- you’re the biggest bitch i have ever met/pos. you definitely had a devianart phase that you only outgrew because you got bullied or met some scary ass people on there. you’re kind of a weirdo but that’s what gives you your spice.

koichi- you act innocent and kind but you’re a bitch too/ also pos. i bet your AO3 history is full of insane amount of hard smut or hurt/bo comfort.

giorno-you’re either a dope ass person who’s actually super genuine and everyone wants to be your friend. OR you’re a super annoying anime fan who says shit like “but can he beat goku though”.

mista- you’re a stoner. i have not met a single fan of this man who does not smoke. you either smoke before every little thing you do and mention it to every single person on this planet. or you’re down low about it and just kind of go about your life.

narancia- you are still a child. you didn’t really mature correctly and i bet it’s because of some traumatic event that happened during childhood that forced you to grow up. please go to therapy i will be your therapist. also liking sharp things and setting things on fire is not a personality trait.

fugo- you’re a red flag but in a good way(?)you always try to see the best in people even when it’s clear they are the worst person on earth. you definitely have anger issues because you suppress your feelings until they explode out of you. you give really good hugs i think.

abbacchio- you either want a big titty goth gf or are the big titty goth gf. you never left your emo phase and you definitely had a behavior problem in high school. please stop dying your hair every month it’s going to fall out soon.

bruno- you’re most DEFINITELY the mom of the friend group. everyone comes to you with their issues but you’re too afraid to put your issues on someone else because you don’t want to burden them with your feelings.

jolyne- you are most DEFINITELY lgbqt emphasis on the L. you most definitely have issues with one or both of your parents.

hermes- COME OUT OF THE CLOSER PLS!!! we all already know you like girls just admit it we are going to love and accept you no matter what.

foo fighters-autism

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starryeyedgifty · 1 year

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Things I have noticed about astrology placements as someone who has been into astrology since 5th grade.

♍︎ Virgos: if someone is a Virgo or has predominant Virgo placements AND they have a lot of trauma that they NEVER heal from they have the potential to be the worst person alive. They will probably shit talk or harass everyone around them and think everyone else is the problem and never even think to correct their bad behavior.

♏️♊️♎️ ♒️ Scorpios and air signs: Scorpios aren't the most mysterious sign it's Gemini or any air sign. The reason is that air signs tend to talk about superficial stuff or just downright unique/crazy theories they have to the point it's hard to see what they really think about in their heads when they are alone... they also are experts at switching up their personality to get along with others, so sometimes I'm like how are you actually? love y'all tho 🫶🏿.

♈️♉️🦀 Aries, Taurus, and Cancer: Aries' temper isn't scary it's Taurus or cancer that is. Maybe it's because I grew up with Aries brothers and a majority of my best friends have been Aries. I don't find them scary when they are mad especially since they tend to be angry often lol. I think Taurus or Cancer is the scariest probably because they are very slow to anger and are usually calm and they tend to be more physical when angry (just my experience) but yeah Aries anger is still awful to experience tho 😅.

♎️ Libras: Libras stereotype as being cordial and friendly and everything pink is not it. Some of the most aggressive people I have encountered have been Libra. They definitely do have a lot of friends and are likable but they are so argumentive sometimes I'm like you can't be the Libra I have read about. Although I will say libras are either pretty looking or their vibe is very alluring. (Venus influence of course)

♐️ Sagittarius: Sagittarius is so misunderstood. They are seen as the unserious goofballs of the zodiac but they are so much deeper them that. I would describe Sag as a photo of the whole world. like if it was possible for the entire globe or a big region to be photographed that would be Sagittarius. Not because of the obvious reasons as in sags being interested in different cultures and wanting to experience everything. but because Sagittarius thinks and goes through so many things it's impossible to capture it all...

#astrology #astro observations #astrology notes #virgos #cancers #libra #zodiac signs #natal chart #sagittarius #gemini #taurus

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idyllcy · 1 year

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slow... slow... slow.

Word count: 1.1k

Content Warnings: hurt no comfort, angst, major character death

Summary: some days are slow.

Some days are slow.

Slow.

slow.

It's been slow since you left. It's hard to wake up some days, other days, he stays in bed, dialing Naegi, apologizing through his morning voice and sniffling nose about not being able to make it to work again. It's hard to wake up in the house when you're gone. It's a strange experience, really.

Two months ago, you would make him breakfast in the morning.

Now, you do nothing.

Well, not like you can do anything to begin with.

You've been gone for just about that long too.

It was his fault (again), you know (as it always is).

He had been the one to love you too hard, and he had been the one to throw you into a pool of sharks, except these sharks had nukes and bombs and snipers and... well, you know. The good old arsenal of weapons that a typical war criminal has. Ah, no. Not one. Multiple.

He had been the target of everyone, and he supposes that they caught onto the fact that he valued your life more than his own. It was obvious when he had tucked you away from the rest of the world in your apartment that the Future Foundation owned. He'd rather die than live in a world without you.

He supposes his worst nightmare has come true.

He lives in a world without you now.

Without.

Yeah, without you.

So, he lives another day, one where he's not allowed to kill himself as you had instructed. (You had told him pretty explicitly once, "No killing yourself. If I see you in hell I'm sending you straight back to Earth.") He calls off work again, sitting in your bedroom, lying in your bedroom, holding the covers to his chest, mind spinning, trying his best to savor whatever smell of you was left. (most of it has faded, but he likes to pretend.)

There's some breakfast you had made for him before you passed in the fridge. It's molding, turning green, purple, he doesn't know what color, but it's not good to eat anymore, yet he keeps it in there. Grief is a nightmare for him this time around. He hadn't even cried this hard since his parents' death. He hadn't even cried when he got kidnapped. He never slowed down for anything. Grief was almost a normal part of his life. (it wasn't. He never cried over deaths.)

It's another day that he lays in bed until his stomach curls in his abdomen, crying, begging for him to eat something. Something. Anything. He's hungry. He's going to die without the food. So, he pops a couple of nutrition pills and goes back to bed, and the cycle repeats.

Again.

And again.

Komaeda finds himself in a dooming cycle. A cycle that eats his insides out, losing his muscle, his face slimming and turning bonier than when he was doing chemo. He thinks he deserves it for killing the love of his life. The. The ex-love of his life. No. That's not right. He still adores you. He'd kill himself to be with you right now if he could. Yet, he doesn't know why your last words stick with him so strongly. They weren't even your last words, (your last words had been "Fuck, there goes my vision" according to Hinata) but Komaeda doesn't understand why he listens to you. Maybe he was worried he'd be an even bigger disappointment to you if he actually did kill himself to follow you. Maybe you were happier and found someone else.

You had mentioned you had a dead first love in the afterlife (it had been a joke. he didn't know).

Komaeda doesn't like that thought. You told him you loved him.

You loved him.

loved.

Maybe it was scarier on his end. Maybe it had been a mistake on his end to think that he could love someone. It was foolish, scary, stupid, everything in between. He was delusional to think that you would be able to grow old with him. It's. It's just a stupid cycle of grief that he was incapable of escaping. How terrible on his end. You'd surely smack him if you were still alive.

Maybe you are smacking him as a ghost. Maybe he'd be able to feel you at least one last time that way.

He didn't even get to say goodbye.

You had bled out in the arms of another man, and when he found you, you were cold, dead, lifeless, everything in between, but most of all, you were dead. Your skin was colder than the winters he survived out on the streets as a remnant. His heart hurt. (at least it didn't hurt when he was a remnant). Maybe this was Junko's way of getting him back. It was too good to be true, after all. How dare he believe that he could—

It's hard to stop the thought cycle.

Komaeda sits on the couch, hugging your stuffed animal, opening the TV to catch up with the news (more so to turn it into white noise), ignoring the text messages from his classmates again. How would they know? They all lost their loved ones during the tragedy with the blame of despair. He lost you during a time when he was sober. He lost you when he was capable of protecting you. How could he do that to himself? How could he do that to you? It would have been better to let you leave and fall for someone else. How dare he believe that he could be happy?

He would never be happy without you.

It was as if all the healing you had done had cracked and broken on its own. It didn't really matter anymore. You were dead, and your healing had undone itself. As though the thread after his surgery had broken loose, forcing his wound open again. He was so close too. Maybe if you had stayed a little longer— what a futile thought. You're gone. It doesn't matter anymore.

He blinks back into consciousness, staring at Naegi delivering the news, staring at the vitamin pills on the table. The pills you used to take. Ah. Ugh. Why must everything in this dammed apartment remind him of you? No. Not dammed. Why must he have had lost you?

He falls asleep on the couch, the TV eventually playing music from the ultimate composer, throwing him into a trance. He's tired. He's asleep, but he's walking. He's. He doesn't know. He's dead, dying, died, broken. He's. Broken? He doesn't know. Not anymore.

So, as he falls back asleep in his bed, he wonders if the next day he'll break out of the trance.

Maybe not.

Maybe so.

But then again, some days are slow.

#komaeda x reader #nagito x reader #nagito komaeda x reader #danganronpa x reader #dr3 x reader #☾.fics

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darlingshane · 2 years

Text

The Storm

Michael Berzatto x F!Reader

Rating: 18+

Word Count: 2,5k

Content/Warnings: Addiction, Heavy Angst, Non-Explicit Smut, Break-Up, Tough Love, Making out, Reader has a tragic past linked to addiction too.

Summary: You go to Michael's place to pick up your stuff after breaking up with him.

-- Read below or at AO3.

You chose the worst day to pick up your belongings from Michael's place. It was merely drizzling when you turned on the engine of your car, but by the time you pull up at the end of his street, you’re caught up in the middle of a thunderstorm. It’s fitting. Much like the weather right now, Michael took your life by storm ten months ago. It poured hard, you fell quickly, there was lightning and thunder, and you absorbed it all.

It was as scary as it was exciting. And now you’re just cold.

Drawing a breath, you grab the backpack you brought, and muster all the courage to climb out of the vehicle and walk up the street to your ex's building as quickly as possible. You get drenched in seconds no matter what.

You still have the key and use it to help yourself inside the lobby. However, when you reach the 7th floor, you can't open the door to Michael's apartment.

Has he changed the locks after specifically telling him you didn’t want to deal with him again, and practically had you beg him to be out for you to come over?

Would he be that cruel to do that to you after the way he treated you the day he yelled at you and called you a bitch when you got rid of his stash?

Or was he lying when he said today he’d be working?

Cursing internally after trying for a third time, you give up. You'll have to do this another time, or just abandon the laptop, and pile of clothes you've been leaving here for months.

You clench your teeth and in utter frustration bang your fist against the door one last time. A second after, you hear someone opening it from the inside.

Michael.

“Hey,” he says casually, as if nothing ever happened, “can we talk?”

You cross your arms against your stomach firmly, and shake your head, “I just need my stuff. Either bring it out or leave for ten minutes, so I can come in.”

“I know you hate me right now, but you're being ridiculous. You know I'd never hurt you.”

“Actually, I don't know, Michael.”

“Would you come inside before you freeze to death?”

You sigh in exasperation. “I've had a long day and I wanna go home… just bring it out, and I’ll leave. I don’t wanna do this again.”

“Look, I have a problem, alright? You wanted me to admit it, and I couldn’t. I didn't realize how bad it was until you pointed it out and broke up with me.”

You roll your eyes and inhale deeply before stating, “one of the first things I asked you when we started dating was if you're addicted to anything. I know it's a very unusual question to ask right off the bat, but I told you why I needed to know that, and what I've been through, and you straight up lied to my face, and let me fall in love with you either way.”

“I didn't know that I was when we started dating. You gotta know that.”

You bite the inside of your cheek to keep yourself from going into a full meltdown.

Unfortunately, this is not the first time you've dealt with addiction. Both your parents were addicts and both died tragically. One OD’ed, and the other got into a fatal car accident under the influence, leaving you an orphan at 13. They weren’t very nice to you either.

You got somewhat caught in that world too during your teens. Everyone kept saying that you got the gene too, so you just accepted that as your unavoidable fate. You drank for the sake of drinking and tried everything you were offered just to numb pain and forget about everything that hurt. All felt really good until one bad trip when you woke up naked in somebody else's bed without any recollection of what happened, or who was the person conked out on the other side of the bed.

It had to come to a stop. You cleaned up your act and made a true vow to yourself of not dating addicts to keep yourself from falling into that world again.

As cruel as it sounds– had you known that he was, you’d never dated Michael. While you believe everyone deserves seconds, thirds, and fourths chances… you can’t be caught up in something like that again, and now it’s too late cause you actually love him.

After ten months of dating, his reaction to you finding out about his addiction was pretty much text book, but what truly surprised you was yourself not realizing sooner that he had an opioid problem.

“I'm trying here, sweetheart. I already went to a couple of meetings. And I’m not gonna lie it’s been hard as hell… it's gotten pretty bad actually since you left me… “

You swallow the lump lodged in your throat, and respond bitterly, “are you really going to put that on me? It was there before I even met you, Michael, even if you weren't aware of it. It’s very unfair hearing you say it like that, you know? And I didn't break up with you because of it. I wanted to help you, and you yelled at me like crazy, and called me a bitch after I found out and flushed all of it down. Do you even remember that day at all?”

He shakes his head.

“Of course, you don't. You were out of it.”

“I know.”

“No, that's the problem, you don't know how much you scared me,” you chide, letting out a shaky breath, having your voice breaking every other word, “I thought you were going to hit me or worse. That’s how bad it was. That's why I asked you to leave the apartment… and you set me up for what, to revisit all this and hurt me again?”

You hear some neighbors talking and climbing down the staircase, and he waits for a moment to speak again after they’re down to the next story.

“Let’s talk inside, please? I swear I’d never put a hand on you.”

There’s a sting in the corner of your eye, and you look to the side for a beat, and out the window at the end of the hall, capturing a violent lightning striking across the sky.

“Just tell me what to do, baby. I’ll do anything, please,” he pleads, his voice cracking a little higher.

“A couple of meetings is not going to cut it,” you utter more calmly, “you need to get clean for real. And not because of me. If you’re gonna do it, it’s cause you want to. I can’t be the reason you stay clean. I can help you, but that can’t be solely on me.”

“Got it.”

“You said it’s hard as hell… you can’t do it on your own either. You need to find a center.”

“What? Like rehab? I can’t afford to go to rehab.”

“There are free centers.”

“No, I literally can’t leave the restaurant now.”

“Close it for a while. Leave it to Richie, or your siblings. I’m sure they can manage.”

“I can’t,” he swallows.

“Why not?”

“Cause if I do that, I’d have to tell them.”

“I thought you were serious about this. If you can admit to them or to yourself that you have a problem… this is not going to work out.”

“It’s just pills.”

“It’s not just pills if you depend on them every day when you don’t have anything to treat.”

There's a thunder that almost shakes up the whole building, and it begins hailing outside.

“Did you drive here?” He asks over the sound of pellets of frozen rain pelting on the window.

You nod.

“I can’t let you drive back home like that.”

“What I do is not up to you. Just give me my stuff back. I’m not gonna ask again.”

“Let’s make a deal–”

“No,” you say curtly.

“Stay until the storm winds down; you don’t have to talk or look at me if you don’t wanna… I’ll stay out of your way.”

You exhale through your mouth, staying firm in your position.

“I know you hate me right now, but don’t do something stupid cause of it. Please?” He adds.

“I don’t hate you.”

“No?”

You shake your head. “I wish I could. It’s not something you can control, I get it. It’s the lie, and that day…” you trail off, and inhale, “if I come in, you’ll really stay out of my way?”

“I promise.”

With some apprehension, you nod, and he steps away from the threshold to let you in. You walk past him, heading directly into the bedroom to gather your stuff from his dresser.

As promised, he keeps himself away while you shove your stuff into your pack and close the door to trade your damp clothes for dry ones. Absentmindedly, you put on Michael’s hoodies like you’re used to. You look around one more time to see if you’ve forgotten something, and your eyes land on the framed picture on his night stand– the one of the two of you when you went away one weekend to a cabin. That was the first time he told you he loved you, about one month into your relationship. A sigh falls from your lips, staring at it for longer than you should until the lights suddenly go out, not only in the apartment but as far as you can see out the window the whole block has blacked out.

You turn on your phone’s flashlight, pick up the picture, and step out into the living room, where Michael is lighting a couple of candles on the dining table.

“Were you on something that weekend?” You hold the picture up to the light, so he can see it, and then place it down on the table.

“No, I wasn’t.”

“Did you mean it when you said you loved me?”

“Yeah, that was all me, I swear,” he puts the lighter away, and braces his palms on the edge of the table, “I’ve meant everything I ever said to you, no matter what. High or not. I’ve always loved you.”

You hang your head down before tiredly sitting on the couch, tucking your knees to your chest.

“Truth is I never took anything when I was with you,” he continues, sitting on the coffee table in front of you, “I didn’t need to.”

“You gotta stop saying that. I’m not a replacement for your addiction, Michael. You can’t put that on me.”

“Why not? It’s the truth.”

“Because you’re guilt-tripping me,” your voice comes out shaky again, “something happens to you … if someday you decide you’ve had enough and take a bunch of pills or whatever, and I’m not here, it’s like saying it’s my fault. That’s on me.”

“I’m sorry, okay? I don’t know how to do this,” he hangs his head down, “I promise that’s not gonna happen. Nothing I do will ever be on you.”

“When did it start?”

“I don’t know… a couple of years ago I think,” he rubs his eyes with his fingers before admitting, “I’ve done coke and used to smoke a lot of weed, but after my knee surgery they gave me all these meds, and I never stopped taking them… I felt really good when I did… and the more I took, the more I needed.”

“You know what you’re describing, right?”

“I know, sweetheart, I know. I just… Can you just let me do it my way first? If that doesn’t work, I’ll go to rehab. I’ll do whatever you tell me to do. Just don’t give up on me.”

“I’m not giving up, but we can’t be together until you're clean and can prove to me that you can stay that way, and you can’t be with anyone else, either.” You pause and see him nod at your conditions, “I’m not setting myself up for a lifetime of dealing with this shit, like I did with my parents, Michael. I don’t mean to be callous, but for your own sake, you have to do this right.”

“Okay, baby, I know, thank you. Whatever you want,” he gets to his knees as an act of contrition, and tentatively grabs your ankles and places your feet down on the floor to hug your midsection. You let him. You push your knees apart, and he buries his face on your stomach, as you curl your arms around his head.

“I love you so much,” he mumbles against your clothes.

“I love you, Mikey,” you tear up smelling his hair, utterly heartbroken about having to be away from him for even one second to deal with all this alone.

It's not like you have a choice. You'll help him, of course, but you can’t force or push him constantly into it. You won't. He has to make that hard decision himself and choose to be clean for his own good.

As you wipe the tears off your cheek, he tilts his head up to look at you.

“Can I kiss you?” he exhales lower than a whisper, and you just sigh at his name, holding his face in your palms.

“One more for the road, baby,” he insists with such sadness it shatters your soul, “I need something to look forward to.”

It's time for you to admit that he's your weakness, too, as you swallow and shut your eyes for a beat before slowly capturing his lips in a chaste kiss of bubbling emotions that utterly terrify you. A part of you just wants to coddle him, enable him, be there to ease all his aches; and the other part is sick even entertaining the idea of it, and breaking that promise you made to yourself.

Everything you believe, and all the boundaries you've set, momentarily go out the window as you let your lips part to dive a little deeper into his mouth and grant him some mercy. Emotions run higher every second you touch his lips, and suddenly, your mouths are fused into a tight seal of love and hunger. A moment after, you find your body shifting on the couch to make room for him as he lies on top of you, nestling between your legs.

You can’t stop it. You don't want to, either. His lips, hands, and the weight of his body body feel too good for you to give that up right now. Especially that hand that moves in between to undo your jeans and slide beneath your underwear. You lightly bite his lower lip when his fingers slip along your folds, rubbing so damn deftly, and lovingly, you can’t help but moan into his mouth and send your own hand to fondle him over his jeans.

When you can’t take it any longer, you both get rid of your clothes, so he can fuck you.

Much like you thought, you’re a substitute for his addiction. You never realized until now. It was so obvious. It’s in the way he looks at you, and how he touches you and kisses you… It is pure joy and desperation masked with love.

#jon bernthal #michael berzatto #michael berzatto x reader #the bear #the bear fanfiction #darlingwrites #i used a julian gif #cause someone pointed out in the tags that he looked like mikey in that ep #and he totally does

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outsiders-owen · 8 months

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Hey, Soup? You home?

Oh! I'll be at the door in just a second, Owen, I need to put some stuff away- oh god damn it, why do I have such an awful storage system-

...

Anyway! Hello, hello, come in! What brings you to my humble abode...?

I- give me a second.

...Are you okay?

No- I-

...

Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine, I just need your advice on something. My Voices won't shut up about it, so I'm coming to you.

Oh! Okay, do you need, like, a potion or something..?

No. Just advice.

Alright, how can I help you then, Mr Orange?

It's about Apo.

Ohh.

Yeah.

What about him?

Soup, what do I do? He's- he was my best friend. And he lied to me. How do I get over that? How do I get over that, and the fact that he has the blood of, like, twenty people on his hands? I don't know what to do.

It's- yeah. Yeah, Owen, you're right. It's a really tricky situation. It feels like he betrayed you, and it hurts. It hurts more than a thousand daggers, and it cuts so deep, and you're going to need time to live with that. Apo hurt you, and what he did wasn't okay. It isn't okay.

...

And you're allowed to feel betrayed, you're allowed to feel pained, you're allowed to feel like your entire world has been pulled from under your feet. You're allowed to take time to yourself, and you're allowed to cry, and you're allowed to tackle this awful, hard situation on your own terms, in your own time.

I just-

Shh, I'm not done.

Apo has been there for you so many times. He's been there when you're hurting, and when you're happy, and when you're apathetic to everything around you. He's seen you at your worst and your best and your angriest and your silliest, and you've seen all those sides of him as well.

He has soothed so much hurt, and you never thought in a million years he could be the cause of pain for you.

But-

Owen, people make mistakes. Apo made a mistake. A big mistake, an awful mistake, a horrific act! But that doesn't make him evil. Apo is not evil, he did not have bad intentions, he didn't know what the lever would do, and he was scared. He lied to you because he was scared, he was so, so scared. I know and you know and even he probably knew that you'd cover for him, that you'd think of him no differently.

But fear makes people act strangely, it warps our minds and makes us see things that aren't there, hear undertones in people's words that don't exist. And Apo was feeling so much fear.

Soup, he lied to me.

And would you have done any different?

Yes! I trust him, I trust him with my life-

You need to try and understand how he's feeling right now. Owen, I know you're feeling hurt and betrayed and you have every right to be, but please try and see it from his point of view. He was terrified.

The entire clearing was trying to find out who pulled that lever. We were all on a witch hunt for the culprit. Imagine how scary that must have been, to know that if you admitted to the thing you had done, there was a chance that- well, that this would happen.

Someone found out, Squidney came back from the Maze and she told us Apo pulled the lever. And his worst nightmares were realized.

...

You're the one person that he knows he can trust unconditionally, and now you're turning your back on him.

I can't decide what you do for you, Owen, but please. For Apo, for yourself, for everyone else in the clearing. Please don't give up on him. It would ruin you.

I... thanks, Soup. I'll think about what you've said. It- yeah. Yeah, I'll think about it.

Alright. Are you going already? You didn't even finish your tea!

Yeah, uh... that was a lot. I need to go think about it.

Oh, alright. Come talk to me if you need any further advice, yeah?

Yeah.

Okay! Bye, Owen!

See you around, Soup.

#outsiders smp #outsiders smp roleplay #main storyline #owengejuicetv #owengejuicetv roleplay #soup

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canary-prince · 11 months

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Writing Fanfiction Is Scary

No, it is.

Writing anything is scary. You’re scared no one will like it. You’re scared you’ll make a fool of yourself. You’re scared that someone you like and respect will see it and, instead of being proud or supportive, they’ll just spit on it.

And sometimes you get proven right. I’ve had more than one “friend” use my hobby as a reason to hurt me. And those hits still sting (which is partially a Me Problem) even years later. They sting their worst when I’m trying to post something new.

But I keep doing it.

Partly because I can’t help it. I write. It’s what I do. I see something I love, something that moves me, and I want to Create in response to it. Like a gift. Like a serenade. Like a conversation. It’s never meant as disrespect. Sometimes there’s FRUSTRATION sometimes there’s disappointment sometimes there’s anger. But never, ever, a dearth of love.

It’s always love.

So I make my little offerings and I put it out into the world. For attention and validation and the dopamine reward of a hit count rising.

And sometimes, I get comments. Really, really nice comments. Comments from people who read my...my stupid, pathetic, reductive, gay fanfiction, and loved it to pieces. Comments from people who are sobbing and screaming and laughing, people who have nothing but praise for it.

Once, I got a comment from a reader who was thanking me, very sincerely, for writing a perpetually masked character as Latine, instead of white, like everyone else in the fandom did. Once, I got a comment from someone telling me that they read my series and got so excited that they wrote their own. Once, I got a comment from a reader who’s very first sexual experience was deeply traumatic for them, and who felt better after reading one of my stories.

So I keep doing it. Because it’s an act of love, and my life is hard, and all our lives are hard, and no matter how ashamed and hurt and frightened I feel about it, I know, logically, I am not doing anything wrong.

Please don’t hide your creative spark out of fear. Please be brave. Even fanfic is worth something to someone.

#the monster speaks

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aceghosts · 2 years

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what tragic horror character trope are you?

Hey Everybody! I was tagged by @purplehairsecretlair and @direwombat to take this quiz for my OCs. Thank you both for tagging me!

Tagging: @natesofrellis, @sstewyhosseini, @marivenah, @thomrainer, @hoesephseed, @strangefable, @bluemojave, @indorilnerevarine, @nuclearstorms, @arklay, @strafethesesinners, @chyrstis, @allthearchetypes, @funkypoacher, @confidentandgood, @poetikat, @clicheantagonist, @derelictheretic, @captastra, and anyone else who wants to do this!

Blue Murphy

the witch

people need to find blame wherever they can; it makes the bad things in their life feel just a touch more bearable. the witches are so often blamed for the curses others are under that no one even questions it anymore. you point to a supposed witch and everyone else prepares the stake, no matter their innocence. to be born and believed a witch is one of the worst curses of them all- you can have friends and family, but there's always a dread that someday, someone will point to you, and everyone you once trusted will throw you into the pyre. if you're here, reading this, you've probably been burned before. and i don't blame you for wanting to hide away, to really become the witch they all say you are, to curse them. but to be a witch is to brush your fingertips over the bark of a tree and watch it grow a touch stronger. keep that in mind

Rooney Shepard

the harbinger

the harbingers have been through fire. you've got the scars to show for it. some people say harbingers are jaded- scary, even, to people who don't understand that the harbinger has seen the edge of the world and survived it. but being the harbinger means you're cursed to watch younger, brighter eyes fall for the same traps you did. trying to help isn't enough for you; you know what they're getting themselves into, and you want to protect them the way no one ever protected you, so why won't they just listen? it's frustrating. it's terrifying. no one should have to live through what you did, and i hope you know that you can't protect everyone but it's damn noble of you to try. it's not your job to save the world but i hope you know you've already made a difference to everyone who has taken your words to heart.

Hunter Delaney

the vampire

it is the loneliest day of a vampire's life, the first time they look into a mirror and see their reflection missing. drinking blood sucks too, don't get me wrong, but as a vampire you had to learn to hide from the sunlight, from your family, all your friends, because you were unavoidably different now and you didn't know how to explain that to them in a way they would understand. you could get stranger's blood in bursts, but what is life when you can't know someone for longer than the night lasts? you left everything behind because it was easier than trying to tell them. i just hope you know you're not the only vampire out there, and that there exist people who will understand your situation without a word. they'll sit with you in the dark for as long as you'll need them to.

Sawyer Beaumont

the werewolf

there's something inside a werewolf that's sharp, thorns and barbs coiling up in tight knots of vine even on their best days. halfway through a conversation, you'll forget your happiness and the pain comes back in a flash. you never meant to, but the sharpness has done harm on your behalf. it's defensive. it's leftover artillery from a battle you spent so long fighting that it still doesn't feel like it's truly over, does it? you want so badly to be soft. to take the hand that you are offered instead of baring your teeth. and it might be hard to believe, but you are soft. you're the softest one out there. it'll just take a while to untangle those vines enough to know that very little is often life-or-death, and not everything touches to hurt.

Blake Maddox

the final girl

the final girl comes out the other end of trauma alive- or, they were supposed to. honestly, you're not so sure you're really alive anymore. you saw the same hurt take those you were closest to while everyone paraded your bruises as bravery, as strength, as if you're the hero. and it hurts. you're tired and you don't want to have to be brave anymore. whatever you went through, it changed so much of who you were that you're still getting used to the person you see in the mirror. you didn't have a say in any of it, but you're here now, and that's gotta count for something. you'll make it count for something. but first, you need to let yourself find rest.

#tag memes #blue murphy #I won't let fear compromise who I am #Commander Rooney Shepard #Hunter Delaney #Sawyer Beaumont #Blake Maddox #Figured I would tag a bunch of people since I haven't done one of these in a while #also no pressure to do this #oof-Blake's result is the most accurate especially since they're a final girl (gender neutral #and yeah that result kinda describes how they feel after that night #and Hunter's is accurate in an interesting way #Because after their rebirth Hunter has to cut contact with their family #partially to protect them and partially because they don't know how to tell anyone how they've change

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tommyarashikage · 2 years

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OCs as Tragic Horror Tropes

tagged by the beloveds @lethal-justice @roofgeese @socially-awkward-skeleton @dihardys @jackiesarch @shellibisshe @leviiackrman and @aceghosts to do this really interesting uquiz. thank you all so much for the tag! 🖤

sending out tags to @natesofrellis @sstewyhosseini @hoesephseed @thomrainer @risingsh0t @adelaidedrubman @indorilnerevarine @ @confidentandgood @josephslittledeputy @purplehairsecretlair @theresaruggedroad @ghastlyrider @strangefable and anyone who would like to tag me! (sorry for sending out so many tags lately)

the harbinger

the witch

frankenstein's monster

this plight is the simplest of them all: you did not ask for this. you were never given a choice. no part of yourself feels human, just a collection of traits you've picked up from mirroring anyone you could, even the people you meet through a television screen. it's alienating to live that way- yet someone has called you the alienating one. maybe too many people to count. maybe they treated you so uncomfortably inhuman that it's all you can understand now, or you've dug yourself into such a deep hole in an attempt to keep safe that you can't remember a person living in the home of your body at all. being alive is confusing and painful and lonely and loud but living is all there is to being human- you're already there. just take air into your lungs and breathe. close your eyes and picture a beautiful sky. you made that. you painted that yourself.

that which cannot be known

oh god. how did it come to this? to some extent, you've gone so far past your own idea of "human" that it must be kind of fun, right? maybe. i'm not sure. as an artefact of cosmic horror, you're wild and wacky and colourful and people are probably drawn to that, but you will never let them know you. the mystery intrigues for a while, but it'll wear everyone down. it'll wear you down, too. who are you? do you remember? are you so far gone that you can't go back? and maybe that's the most tragic thing of all- becoming so distorted in your identity, and for so long, that no matter how hard you want to return you can't ever seem to figure it out. but you've learned a vast amount up in the stars, and people will work hard to get to know you. it doesn't matter who you used to be. sometimes, you should just start from scratch: give yourself a name, a birthday. let someone celebrate these things with you.

#oc: paz acosta #oc: laurie devin #oc: luna richards #oc: carol kovacs #tag game #I did try rat girl zoiya and shireen but they also had the harbinger result which makes sense tho!#missing all of these girlies hours #now that paz' backstory is... out there no more vagueness! she does try to be the complete opposite of what she was made to be #she may hate what she is but she also sees that she can use her abilities for good and she tries SO hard to make the world better somehow #laurie's result actually applies to both 'sides'#how she's deemed as the snake in the garden by the project and later she's condemned by the resistance because she 'switches' sides #oh look! luna's quiz tag debut sksks #her result is interesting. over time people do tend to depict her as a monster and non-human due to her powers which they're also afraid of #carol's result hits hard... she's lost her humanity when she chose a new name for herself (at least that's how she sees it)#she's basically an unknown entity to her world now #if that makes sense

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