#however I feel guilty when I'm not writing either

[scribblesofagoonerr]

— Where's dumb and dumber?

here's pt. 4 of chaos fc, this is honestly so much fun to write and its' a nice break from the angsty stuff as well, cos' I really can't be dealing with any of it right now!

thanks to @alotofpockets as always for helping me out with ideas along the way and giving me the confidence to post!

pairings: kim little x reader, kyra cooney cross x reader, awfc x reader

summary: reader and kyra continue to try and cause trouble down under, however, some of the girls are quick to realise before its' too late.

also, reader is a protective guarddog when it comes to her best friend getting hurt.

"Come on Kimmy, it was harmless fun!" You exclaim, trailing through the hotel after the long bus ride back from the open traning session and it was safe to say that your Captain was still pretty miffed about what had happened in the changing rooms.

Well, if the looks from the Scots' women were anything to go by then, yeah, you were definitely still in trouble.

"Harlmess or not, I told you to not cause anymore trouble!" Kim states in a firm tone of voice, stopping in her step to turn and look at you, "I feel like I can't even leave you alone for 5 minutes without you gettin' into trouble!"

"I don't see what the big deal is," You can't help but huff and wonder if your Captain is being slightly dramatic.

That was definitely the wrong answer to say, if the look that the older Scots' was anything to go by.

"The big deal?" Kim scoffs and shakes her head, "The big deal is that I'm really gettin' fed up with the constant immature behaviour-- When are you going to grow up, Y/N!?" She snaps.

This is probably the point in which you should say something sensible...

"Where's the fun in that though?"

Or not then.

You watch as your Captains' eyes widen in disbelief before shes' shaking her head, "Thank God we're going back to London in a few days!" She mutters before she pinches the bridge of her nose, "Enough of the pranks, now! I mean it, Y/N. You so much as pull another prank and I'm phoning Leah again to let her know of the recent trouble you've gotten yourself into!"

Without so much as another word, Kim storms off in another direction and your left dumbfound, feeling more than guilty for causing your skipper a near nervous breakdown from the trouble you've been causing.

"Leprachauns' out for revenge," Your partner in crime leans in and whispers, careful to not get caught as shes' under the watchful eye of Steph still, so you can guess that she got a grilling about things as well.

Plus, Caitlin as well most likely, after all it was her girlfriend that got the brunt of the prank that backfired on the wrong victim.

"Yeah, I'd say we're toast whenever she catches up to us," You tell her in a hushed whisper as she wince when your eye catches the Irish defender, who your certain is definitely still holding a grudge about what happened.

"How much trouble did you get in with Kim this time?" Kyra wonders, curiously.

"Eh its' nothin' I can't handle, but she did threaten to call Leah again," Your face pales at the thought of the blonde hearing what else you had been up to. "What did Steph say to you?" You ask.

"Pretty much to not do it again, you know? Blah, blah, blah," Kyra relays what said back as she rolls her eyes. "Caitlin wasn't too happy either about things, considering its' her misses." She states, amusedly.

"Oops," You can't help but surpress the giggle that slips out of your mouth. "Guess we've gotta tone it down on the pranks for a bit." You murmer in realisation.

No way did you want to deal with an angry blonde yelling at you down the phone again, needless to say you were going to try and keep a low profile for now at least.

"Where's the fun in that though?" Kyra jokes as she slides her phone out of her pocket and starts to scroll through her Instagram feed, "Hey, Y/N-- Have you seen these?" With that being said, she not so politely shoves her phone in your face.

"Wha-- No way, seriously?" You can't help but crack up laughing as you watch the fan edit replay over fans' speculating that you and Kyra being together as more than just friends, "There's no way that people are believing this!" You exclaim.

Kyra can't stifle her laughter as she nods, "I know, right? We're just friends!" She finds humour in the situation; Your used to fans freaking out about things, but seeing the interaction between you both and immediately labelling it as a relationship was just hilarious to even see.

"We're nothing but chaotic, platonic little shit best friends," You grin as you playfully throw your arm around the older girl and lock her in a head lock. "Hey! I have an idea, let's just give the fans what they want!" You exclaim as an idea pops into your head.

Kyra manages to wrangle herself out of your grasp and scrunches her face up, "Ew. No offence, Y/N/N, but I don't see you that way. I'm not kissing you." She states.

"Wha-- No, not like that you idiot. Lets' just wind them up!" You roll your eyes as you pull your phone out of your pocket, tapping on your Instagram and hold it in front of you both as you playfully plant a kiss on the older girls' cheek, "Ere', smile!"

"Right, so when we get to the stadium we'll-- Oh hold on a second!" Kyra's quick to get distracted in the middle of her explanation, leaving the piece of paper with varies scribbles out in plain sight for anyone else to walk past and see it.

Definitely not careful enough to hide it.

A certain blonde is able to find them easy enough.

"What're they up to now?" Alessia furrows her eyebrow as she lifts up the piece of paper, skeptical of being caught victim to another one of your pranks after watching the latest mayhem unfold with the Irish being the one to pay the price, "Vic, have you seen this?" She motions to the Dutch player.

"Seen what?" Vic asks, confused.

"This," Alessia mumers, gesturing to the paper that she holds up in her hand. "I can't really understand it-- Butterfingers and pancake? Are they, like, yeah I'm confused." The blondes' at a loss, trying to wrap her head around the explanation of the writing on the paper.

Vic isn't able to understand it either by her puzzled facial expression, "What the-- Are they baking a cake?" She questions, confused.

"I... I don't know," Alessia is clearly stumped over what it means as she looks around for someone who might understand it clearly, "Katie! Come look at this a second, please?" She gestures in the direction for the Irish girl to join the conversation.

"What's up?" Katie wonders, walking over to the two girls. "What you got there?" She asks, confused as she glances at the paper in her hands that Vic hands to her.

"We don't know. We can't understand it," Vic admits, confused.

"Butterfingers and pancake," Katie repeats, bewildered. "What... Whos' is this?" She asks, at a loss of what to even make of this right now.

"Kyra left it on the bench," Alessia answers.

Katies' eyes widen in realisation, "It's another prank." She mutters, searching round the room for the two culprits, who are strangely quiet right now. "Caitlin! Have you seen dumb and dumber?" She questions.

"Who're we talkin' about, right now?" Caitlin questions, laughing in amusement.

"Y/N and Kyra," Katie states, motioning to the paper that she holds in her hand. "I think they're up to something again." She adds.

"Oh you mean the English and Aussie pest," Caitlin jokes, walking over to join the three of them as she eyes' the paper in her girlfriends hands, "Seriously? Not again." She grumbles, shaking her head.

"I say that we let Kim know what's going on," Katie declares, looking around for the older Scots' women. "Kim!" She got the attention of the captain.

"Ye', what's up?" Kim looks over in the Irish girls' direction.

Katie wordessly hands the paper over to the Scottish women with an amused expression plastered on her face, "Thought I'd give you the heads up, Cap." She jokes.

Taking in the notes on the paper, Kims' left looking bewildered and lost for words, "Just one day," She mutters to herself, at her wits' end the troublemaker duo.

"What'd they do?" Steph chimes in, being near to the Scots' women.

"Take a look yourself," Katie jokes, glancing to the paper.

"Oh boy," Steph exhales a sigh as she reads over it, "What the hell does butterfingers and pancake mean?" She asks, confused.

"I don't know, but I know it means they're up to no good," Kim mutters, exhaling a sigh.

"Steph and I will have a word with Kyra and we'll leave Y/N to you," Caitlin reassures the older Scots' woman as she pats her on the shoulder before trying to spot out the Australian girl, "Kyra, over here!" She speaks aloud to get her attention.

"Wha-- I didn't do out!" Kyra exclaims in protest, throwing her hands up in the air.

"Not yet you haven't, we're putting a stop to it before it happens," Steph chimes in, shaking her head as she slings her arm around the girl.

"Y/N, come here!" Kim shouts aloud to get your attention from across the room.

"Busted," You mutter to yourself and slump over to meet the stern look of your captain, suddenly having a sense of dejavu about this certain situation. "Whatever you think I did, I didn't do." You state.

"What's this?" Kim holds up the paper note in her hand.

"Er, well its' a piece of paper. Was that supposed to be a trick question?" You question, sarcastically.

By the look on the older womens' face, you should know that she is not messing around and you should most definitely refrain from any further sarcastic comment.

However, you just can't help yourself sometimes.

"You know what I mean," Kim deadpans, pursing her lips. "Whatever this is, it stops right now!" Your captain is promptly wagging her finger in front of your face.

"I don't know what your on about," You mumble, trying to play innocent. "I don't even know what that is." You add, continuing to play dumb about it all.

"Yes you do, Y/N-- The girls found it, I know its' a prank and I'm telling you to pack it in right now!" Kim lectures; You have to admit that she really can be scary sometimes, and its' nothing to do with her height.

"Snitches," You murmer under your breath as you can't help but glare at the girls around the room.

"You should be gettin' ready for the match, not planning any of this dumb pranks-- Carry on and I'll have you benched!" Kim continues to scold you, mentioning about the upcoming match you're currently supposed to be getting ready for to play against the All Stars. "Stop muckin' around and get ready right now, do you understand?"

You swallow the lump in your throat and shuffle in your spot, "Yes Kim, I understand." You mumble, although you can't help but stare down at the floor.

Sure enough the lecture is enough to scare you to try and not cause any more chaos, besides that can wait for after the match at least for now.

"So, Tiny threatened to have me benched if I pull another prank," You murmer to your best friend after you finish getting ready for the match.

"I just got a right earful from Floof and Veggie," Kyra huffs in agreement as she finishes tying up the laces on the boots. "They found the papers." She adds in realisation.

"No shit, only cos' you left them aside for anyone to see!" You exclaim, glaring at the older Aussie girl.

"It weren't my fault I got distracted!" Kyras' quick to protest as she throws her hands up in mock surrender.

"Well either way, I have to keep on her good side now or shes' gonna call Malfoy!" You tell her, huffing and slumping your shoulders; You really didn't want to endure a certain blonde defender lecturing you down the phone at all.

"Malfoy?" Kyra questions, confused.

You nod in agreement, already reaching for your phone to explain the reason behind the newfound nickname for the centre back, "Yep, new nickname for the English skip, cos' I seen the comments about her new haircut and they're hilarious comparing her to a draco malfoy wannabee," You tap on the former picture that the girls had taken back in London and show the older girl. "See?" You smirk in amusement.

"That's brilliant!" Kyra can't help but burst out laughing, "Your right, suits' her well!" She adds in agreement with your name for the stern english captain.

"Come on, lets' go girls. We need to line up!" Kim motions the pair of them out of the changing rooms with the rest of the girls.

"Comin'!" You shout in response, the two of you both dwadling to join the rest of the girls.

Kim spins around and eyes you both skeptically, "Remember what I said? No trouble!" She warns.

"You got it, Cap. No trouble whatsoever!" You grin in agreement, eager to stay on the Scot womens' good side for the time being.

"I mean it," Kim states.

"I know, I know. I'll be on my best behaviour, don't yer' worry!" You agree, signalling a mock salute as you join the end of the line, ready to head on to the pitch to face the All Stars.

"Agh!" You know you should be focusing on the game, however, its' impossible with what is currently going on right now.

Seagulls, feral birds that you're terrified off.

"God damn this ball-- They keep deflating!" Katie exclaims, motioning to the ref for the need to change the ball again, meanwhile you're still trying to not have a complete meltdown about the severe amount of seagulls flying around the pitch.

"Kimmy, help me! Somebody, anybody, help me!" You dart around the pitch like a maniac, to try and avoid them.

"Y/N, calm down! You're fine!" Kim tries to reassure you, all while trying to keep her focus on the game that you're currently playing on the pitch.

You shake your head and your not afraid to admit you were deeply scared of this birds, "I'm not fine! There's... Theres' birds, everywhere!" You exclaim.

"Y/N, they're harlmess..." Steph chimes in, mostly amused with your freak out on the pitch.

"No, no, they're fuckin' not!" You shout aloud in fear, doing your best to try and duck down as one flies in your direction. "Why the heck are they flying so low?" You question in horror.

"Y/N, focus on the game!" Caitlin chuckles, shaking her head.

"I... I can't! There everywhere, Caitlin!" Your downright petrified of these birds, however, your team all seem to find the situation amusing.

Kim pinches the bridge of her nose and shakes her head, "Good lord," She mutters to herself as she moves to gain possession of the ball. "Ere' Y/N!" She shouts in your direction to pass you the ball seeing as your stood in a spot that's open.

Dodging the pesky seagulls, you swoop in towards the direction of the ball and kick it towards Mini Viv who then is able to knock it to Alessia, whos' remaining unmarked and shes' able to head it in the back of the net to give your team to advantage to take the lead and be 1 nil up.

"G'wan, Lessi!" You exclaim, running towards the blonde to dive on her in celebration for the wonderful goal she had scored. "Lessi Russo with the stunning header!"

"Shut up you idiot," Alessia chuckles and swats the back of your head.

Taking the opportunity to enjoy the moment, your focus is switched back to the game in hand, wanting to at least have the chance to score another goal before the end of the game.

However, your fear for the certain birds turned into anger at the very minute that you watched your counter partner be involved in a particulary nasty foul and land on the ground.

"What the-- Nah seriously, ref? What the actual fuck!" Your throwing your hands in air in protest, outraged how the player on the opposite team was able to get away with it. "Are you blind!? Your an absolute idiot to not see that!"

You can admit that you might have been a slight bit more angrier with your words than you should have been.

Thank God it is just a friendly and no yellow cards can be given out.

"Kyra!" You are quick to rush to her side, the fear for the older Aussie girl whos' now being seen by the medical team. "Are you okay?" You question, concerned.

"Ow," Kyra murmers, wincing in pain.

Breathing a sigh of relief that she seems to be fine, given the cheeky grin she gave to the camera when she was being seen by the medical team, you stood up and turned to look at the player in anger.

"What the actual fuck-- Are you that stupid to hurt her like that?" You just see red, getting up in their face and pushing them back roughly. "You'rea fuckin' idiot!" You seeth.

"Y/N, cool it!" Kims' quick to try and reign in your outburst on the pitch,  trying to grab a hold of your upper bicep and drag you away from the situation before you make it worse for yourself. "What the hell are you playing at? Are you purposely looking for a way to cause trouble-- Control your anger!" She states, firmly.

"They hurt Kyra," You murmer, looking over to check in on your best friend. "They didn't even care about it either!" You motion to the player, who seemed completely unphased about the foul.

"Relax, Y/N. Kyra's fine, you need to control your temper," Kim states, sternly as she shook her head. "Your lucky this is just a friendly, or you'd have been sent off already!"

"They... They hurt Kyra," You repeat, not entirely happy that the player got away with it like she did.

It seems like your outburst on the pitch was more of a reason for Jonas, or as you'd kindly labelled him, Thanos to sub you off in replacement from one of the young guns; Initially, you were annoyed about it, however, you were soon joined by Kyra, so at least the two of you could chat on the bench.

"Are you alright?" You try and see if Kyra's actually okay, depsite the fact the medical team had seen to her on the pitch and even went to so much trouble as bring a stretcher on.

"I'm fine, relax, guard dog," Kyra jokes, plonking herself down in a seat beside you. "You know, fans' seeing your outburst like that is just gonna give them more reason to speculate them rumours." She jokes.

"Let them speculate all they want. I'm just a protective best friend," You grumble in response, not liking the fact of seeing the Aussie girl go down on the pitch at all.

© scribblesofagoonerr

#woso x reader #woso fanfics #arsenal women x reader #woso imagine #woso one shot #arsenal wfc x reader #kim little x reader #kyra cooney cross x reader #scribblesofagoonerr #chaosfc

[moreespressoformydepresso]

Fandom's Takes On Trauma Are Terrible And Here's Why: brought to you by terrible Coriolanus Snow and Anakin Skywalker discourse

I've been on the verge of making this post for a while now, but I kept not doing it because this might be a bit of a hot take and I don't like offending people. However, I've been growing increasingly annoyed with the perception of one specific character type so lets see how much my dumb opinions stir the pot this time ¯\_(ツ)_/¯. This will be focused mainly on my current main fandom: The Ballad Of Songbirds And Snakes, as well as Star Wars. You'll see why. Now, I need to make it clear that I'm not judging anyone for their opinions on characters for any reason. In no way am I insinuating you're a bad person for having opinions different to mine or that you’re not allowed to have them. What I am saying is that fandoms have some frustrating and frankly insulting beliefs around trauma and those who survived it, and I'm gonna talk about it because I want to get this off my chest. With that said:

Y'all don't understand how trauma works and it annoys me

As stated in the title, I'm writing this because of the Coriolanus Snow discourse, specifically regarding whether he's a good or bad person. Lets rip off the bandaid straight away: He's a bad person. There's no question about it, Snow is a vile human being. And he's one of my favorite characters because of it. He's fantastically written and hands down one of the most realistic, viscerally terrifying yet utterly pathetic villains ever. And what I hate about the TBOSAS fandom more than anything (aside from how some of them treat the actors) is the way they take away all his agency in the story. But I'll put a pin in that because I have a lot to say about him and instead start at the beginning of my growing frustration with how fandom perceives trauma (feel free to skip through this post, I'll label my sections in case you don't wanna read this whole thing). There's two sides, and both are equally stigmatized and wrong. So lets start with the more obvious one through the lens of Anakin Skywalker.

The Star Wars Fandom's Weird Relationship With Traumatized Children Behaving Like Traumatized Children

So Anakin Skywalker AKA Darth Vader is pretty explicitly a Bad Dude who's done some Bad Things. Bro committed genocide, ain't no getting around that, except... It's a little more complicated. Sure, he did all those terrible things, but a lot of people take that to mean he was always a horrible monstrous big bad in the making who was destined to become the galaxy's worst nightmare. That's missing the whole point of the prequel trilogy, because those movies essentially serve to explain all the reasons for Anakin's descent into villainy, and he had surprisingly little hand in it. Growing up into slavery means he not only has a warped view of the galaxy thanks to all the horrors he's witnessed, it also means he lacks the teachings Jedi younglings get when they grow up in the temple. He was pawned off onto Obi-Wan who had only recently been knighted and was in no way ready to raise a child, and became "friends" with Palpatine who fed him all sorts of lies to manipulate him into becoming little more than an attack dog. Not exactly ideal circumstances for a child in their formative years. Did Anakin shirk the Jedi's rules? Yes. Did he do dumb stuff? Yes. But he was a traumatized teenager, of course he's acting out. When he massacres the Tusken Raiders, it's Padme Amidala who reassures him it was the right thing to do. He felt guilty about it, so this idea that he's some apathetic monster from the second he's born is dumb. It's not that Anakin was born wrong, it's that the people around him either failed to help him go down the right path or were actively trying to push him down the wrong one. Anakin never fully grasped the Jedi's ideals, because the person meant to teach him just wasn't equipped to do so. If he'd had someone to teach him how to get a hold of his emotions, distancing himself enough from them to make the best possible decision and helping him understand the importance of letting someone go when you have to, he wouldn't have fallen to the dark side the way he did.

Anakin did terrible things, but blaming it on him just having an evil heart shows a fundamental misunderstanding of how people's environments change who they are. A life in slavery, where he was not allowed to have anything and risked losing what he held dear at any second with no control over it likely caused him to be very possessive of what he held close to his heart once he did have some control over what he kept and lost. Shmi died because he wasn't there to protect her (in his head), so he clung to the people he loved so he could save them the way he couldn't save his mother. Palpatine actively groomed him, if you think that didn't have any effect on him I don't know what to tell you. Throughout the war, he constantly lost people he was close to. That control he had slowly starts to fade as Ahsoka leaves and he starts having dreams about Padme dying. He does everything to save her, only to find out she betrayed him (in his mind, a thought quite likely influenced by PTSD as well). I can tell you that believing one of the few people you trust has betrayed you can make you act very impulsively. Anakin made an impulsive decision and regretted it for the rest of his life. He wasn't born a monster, the world turned him into one.

However, that does not excuse his actions. It explains them and spreads the blame to more people, but his actions are still his actions. Anakin separated himself from his past because of all the pain it brings him, and in doing so he did a lot of bad things. And he still needed to face consequences for those actions, even if the events that led up to them aren't necessarily on him entirely. If he'd gotten therapy, he wouldn't have choked Padme to death. Possibly he wouldn't have attacked the temple. But he didn't, and he did all those things trauma or not. I have major issues with the way some Anti-Anakin parts of the Star Wars fandom insist on ignoring or writing off his trauma, but that doesn't mean I'm absolving him of all guilt.

An explanation is not an excuse, and that sentiment brings us to the reason for this little rant:

Coriolanus Snow's defenders have a habit of infantalizing trauma survivors and I wish they would stop

Oh Snow, how your amazing character completely flew over the heads of most of your loyalest fans. I'm joking, obviously, but also... It's not exactly wrong. Now, I need to make this clear: I'm not insulting Snow fans here. I'm kind of one of them (I hate his guts but I love how he was written, it's a love hate relationship). However, the way people talk about his trauma... I'll be honest, it's kind of sickening for reasons I'll talk about later after getting through the technical(?) stuff. Where the way people view Anakin disgusts me, the way people treat Snow disturbs me. Because people view The Ballad Of Songbirds and Snakes as if it's some typical tragic villain backstory that humanizes and in some ways justifies who he became, to show what changed him from a normal person into a monster. It's not. It actually shows that Snow has always possessed the traits that made him the monster we know from the OG series. What it does is explain why specific things were so important to him and how he grew to lose all redeeming qualities, letting the worst aspects of his personality grow and take over until it's all there's left of him.

What made Snow do stuff like poison political adversaries and constantly beat down the districts so they don't rebel? A thirst for power. A thirst he's always had, born from the feelings of entitlement he held thanks to his family's previous status. He deserves that power in his mind, so he'll do anything to get it. Power, control, and influence are his driving motivators. It's at the back of his mind throughout TBOSAS, and by the time he becomes a gamemaker it's the only motivation he has left. Those traits, the things that pushed him to do what he did, they were always there. There was just more stuff to cover it up. Stuff that fell away with time. Snow is a terrible person, but people pretend he's some poor misunderstood baby who just needed a hug because... why? Because he has trauma. And that's the root of the problem. Does he have trauma? Absolutely. He survived a war, he lost his parents, struggled through poverty while being raised by propaganda from the Capitol and was arguably groomed by Gaul. Sound familiar? It's kind of like Anakin. Horrible childhood filled with loss, less than amazing figures raising him and grooming. Except people use the opposite argument for him which is equally wrong: he's traumatized, so we cannot blame him.

Yes we can.

Trauma does not justify your actions. It might explain them, but you are still accountable for your own actions. Snow murdered people, starting with Bobbin, and every single time it was his choice to do so. It doesn't matter why he made that choice, because he still did it. He ruined countless lives and ended nearly as many, both directly and indirectly. No amount of trauma justifies that. I've seen people claim he's just an anxious young boy who's a poor victim of circumstance, and anyone who doesn't believe so is simply unable to separate the actions of an 80-something-year-old from the 18-year-old, but... No. That's one of the most braindead takes I've ever heard, I'm sorry. Snow hadn't committed the crimes of his older self yet, but the behaviors he shows in TBOSAS are the ones that led him to doing so later on and ignoring that is just stupid. I don't need to judge Snow based on his later actions to call out how fucked up he was in TBOSAS. Again, he chose to murder several people and deluded himself into believing he was justified. That's what makes him a great character. Bad people always believe, on some level, that they're doing the right thing. It's fascinating. But people take his words at face value when he says he's doing the right thing, and the whole point is that he's wrong. He's lying to himself. Because that's what people do sometimes. Snow's family was knocked off its throne, and Snow clung to the idea that the districts are beneath him and at fault to cope with that. He deluded himself into believing Gaul's dumbass theory to justify continuing the games.

It's the exact opposite of Anakin Skywalker: Trauma is relevant, it does inform your perspective on the world and your actions, but it does not mean you can do no wrong. Snow had every chance to be a good person: Knocking Bobbin out or running away instead of murdering him, joining the rebellion with Sejanus, staying in district 12 with Lucy Gray and being honest with her. But he killed Bobbin. He fucked over the rebels and got Sejanus killed. He lied to Lucy Gray and destroyed any chance he had with her. Every chance he got, he threw into the fire without hesitation. Anakin leaned into being a bad person to forget the past, Snow chose to be one because it benefitted him the most. Neither of them are excused because of their trauma, their descent into villainy is simply explained. You know why? Because both of them created new victims. Snow was complicit in the murder of hundreds of children before becoming responsible for thousands more, he killed people with his own hands and ruined several lives over the course of TBOSAS. All that pain he caused isn't erased because we can explain why it happened. Even at 18, Snow has many things he should be held accountable for. War, being an empoverished orphan, being groomed, none of that nullifies the shit he's done. People who say Snow's just an anxious, young, traumatized boy are one side of the horseshoe theory of the myth of "the perfect victim". The "Anakin's Trauma Should Be Ignored Entirely" crowd are the other side. Which brings us to...

It's all horseshoe theory

To conclude the analytical part of my post, I'll bring it back to what I briefly mentioned in the intro to all of this. Agency. That's the running thread here. Both in cases like Anakin and cases like Snow, the fandom takes away all agency a character has in the story for the sake of justifying one's feelings about them. Anakin was born a monster and he was always destined to be evil. It wasn't the trauma, it wasn't the events of the story, he's just bad. On the other hand, Snow is a good person who was made to do terrible things by his trauma. It's all the trauma and nothing else. His bad childhood caused him to be this way and it has nothing to do with his own worst personality traits. See the connection? In both these instances, the characters had no influence over who they became. With Anakin, nothing could've had any influence because he's just born wrong. With Snow, it's everything around him that shaped him into who he was. Both scenarios completely ignore the character and focus on external factors to explain everything. One demonizes trauma victims by saying those that went off the rails are just bad people and there's nothing to be done about it, the other infantilizes trauma survivors by saying they shouldn't be held accountable for their actions just because they have trauma and it's only when they're older and should know better that we can bring consequences down on them.

Victims of trauma should be held accountable, though. The only thing the presence of trauma should change is what kind of accountability. Merely locking them up won't change anything, they should receive help to work through their problems while residing in a place where they cannot hurt anyone else. Including themselves. That is what acknowledging trauma is useful for. But this? This is doing nothing but stigmatizing trauma survivors even more than they already are, and I hate it. And you wanna know why I hate it? Because I've been both sides of this horseshoe, and it nearly got me killed.

The part where I talk about my Tragic Backstory(TM) to explain why this bothers me so much

This'll be a little heavy, so while I'm not gonna go into detail I advise you to please be careful. If you're not in the headspace to handle talk about actual real life mental health issues, feel free to stop reading here. I'm putting this at the end for a reason. If you really wanna know why people's perspective on Snow disturbs me but don't wanna risk getting triggered, skip to the last bold line in this post.

Without going into detail, I've dealt with some pretty big mental health issues throughout my life. One of them is PTSD, so believe me when I say I understand that trauma can heavily influence one's actions in ways even they don't understand. But I had to learn the hard way that there's a difference between explaining and excusing. I used to believe that, because of my previous experiences, I was entirely justified in doing what I was doing. Kind of. At that point, I didn't know that what I was experiencing was PTSD, but I did feel justified in my actions the same way Snow does. I explained every bad thing I did away and wrote it off as nothing or sometimes even as a good thing. Granted, I never did anything as big as committing murder, but I don't live in a country as dark and horrible as Panem so we'll chalk it up to that. As I grew older, I started to recognize the ways in which I accidentally hurt the people around me, and eventually had the realization that my past does not in fact justify the pain I was causing people entirely uninvolved in what happened to me. They had nothing to do with that, and shoving all my pain onto them the way I did was wrong. My view of myself pivoted to the other side of the horseshoe. If I'm not justified, am I... am I bad? Am I evil? Am I just born wrong?

I don't know how to explain this to anyone who hasn't gone through this themself, but that is a horrible feeling to have. To feel like you're just bad and there's nothing you can do about it... It kills something inside of you. A hope, a will to keep going and keep trying. Why bother when you cannot be fixed? I've lost the will to live at two points in my life, and that was one of them. And now I get to see both of these mentalities be repeated by dumbasses who don't understand the first thing about trauma. It's... not fun. It's grating and aggravating in a way I can't accurately bring across with just my words. It makes me wanna scream and laugh hysterically until I cry.

Here's the thing: I relate to Snow, and the way people perceive him disturbs me on a visceral level.

As I said, I justified my own bad behavior the same way he does. I convinced myself I was a blameless poor victim who had no hand in their actions. But just like Snow, I did. Not nearly as much as I would have liked, but I did. I learned to control the defensive mechanisms my trauma gave me, and I grew from it. Seeing people defending Snow with the same arguments that kept me from ever getting over what happened to me, crying out that he's just traumatized so none of it's his fault... it disturbs me. Because they're outsiders who should be able to see the pain he caused others and realize that nothing changes the fact that he did that. But they don't. They're me, without any of the personal stakes that kept me trapped in my own delusions. It's all just fiction, and I know that, but it hits just a little too close to home for my comfort. It's a little too raw and a little too real for me to just let it go and move on again like I always do.

I'm sorry for the rant, I didn't mean to make this post this long but I guess I hope you find something of interest in here that made it worth reading? Have a nice day 💜

#fandom doesn't know jack shit about trauma and I hate it #I've seen too many terrible takes to let this go I'm sorry #I just can't anymore #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #tbosas #the hunger games #10th hunger games #hunger games #thg series #coriolanus snow #coryo snow #anakin skywalker #sw prequels #darth vader #star wars prequels #palpatine #sheev palpatine #dr gaul #volumnia gaul #trauma #childhood trauma #trauma survivor #fandom discourse #fandom thoughts #star wars

[cerise-on-top]

Sorry for being annoying on main again, but does anyone have any tips on how to regain your writing spark? Writing feels like a chore more so than anything else these days, and it feels like those short breaks aren't cutting it anymore. But I'd feel guilty if I took another break, I just took one last week, after all. Has anyone been in the same boat? Does anyone have any idea regarding what I could do?

#cherry chats #I'll get to the other requests in my inbox don't worry #but I genuinely have to force myself to write anything at all these days #however I feel guilty when I'm not writing either #I'm so tired of it all. I'm actually pretty close to deleting this blog #but then I'd lose everything I've accomplished so far. which really isn't much but it's better than nothing #being a writer is so frustrating and tiring. it feels like people just take you for granted #I'm grateful to have such nice followers but still. I'm tired #and it genuinely feels as though my writing isn't as good as it usd to be either but I can't be bothered to care about that either #I remember when this used to be a fun hobby. I was looking forward to receiving requests #nowadays I'm happiest when I don't receive any for just one night #so yeah. does anyone have an idea on what I could do? I don't wanna give up writing either

[smoft-demons]

Hey, I've been reading your post for a while now andi absolutely love them. Before I got into OM I was already a big D&D person and love fantesty-romance novels. Although, that's besides the point. I was genuinely scared to ask this until I saw your headcanons, there so wholesome<3

But I was wondering if you could do a brothers + the others react to MC getting there period? I was planning on doing it on my own page but I'm a bit scared to publish my own stuff. Although, thank you if you do.

-H.M

Yeah, sure! As I’m sure you’ve noticed, I love writing all the comfort and fluff prompts. It’s like catnip to me lmao

This is gonna be pretty long, so I’m only gonna do the brothers.

Thanks for requesting!! I hope you like it :)

_______

MC is on their period

_______

You’ve been living in the House of Lamentation for a while now. You are, at this point, thoroughly and inextricably part of the family.

As a member of their family, your demons have no problem with helping you out. They can’t help but fawn over you a bit, as well—this wasn’t a familiar problem to them before meeting you, as none of them menstruate. Plus, any human condition of yours that highlights vulnerability and pain on your part makes them all get a tad protective.

In any case, they make sure to be helpful!

_______

Lucifer: responsibility -> rest

With your permission, Lucifer notes your cycle on the calendar he keeps on the kitchen wall. Tactfully, of course. It’s just a little red X in the corner of the box that marks the day you start until the day it ends. It ensures no one in the house forgets to be extra nice to you on those days. Plus, it serves as a way to remind you, in case it sneaks up on you.

In the week leading up to it, he checks up on your stock of human world products (and devildom ones too) for it. Painkillers, chocolate, tea, hygiene products, a heating pad, everything. If you’re running low, he will either take you to get more or take care of it himself, depending on how you’re feeling.

If you’re irregular, he takes extra care with tracking your cycle. Having records is important!

He takes you off the chore rotation while you’re bleeding. He wants you to rest. He will not make you expend your energy on chores while you’re in pain.

If you WANT to take some chores though, he understands and will let you, as long as you don’t make yourself suffer unnecessarily. He understands that some people cope worse with stress, illness, and/or pain when their routine is interrupted and they have no task to distract themself with. He would know! He’s one of them! So if you are too, he won’t force you to give up your tasks.

He does very strictly instruct you not to push yourself, however. You are to let him know immediately if you need to stop, so he or one of his brothers can help you out.

If you want somewhere quiet to hide, he’s got you. His study is a great spot for that! He won’t let anyone else in.

His room is another great spot for that, if you want a softer surface and dimmer lighting. You’re allowed to be in there without him if that ends up working out best (and he hopes you understand the level of trust in you he’s displaying by allowing that), but he has no problem with bringing his work out of the study and into his room if you want his company.

If he’s not on a time crunch, he won’t bother bringing any work with him though. Unless he has reason to expect you to feel guilty for taking up his time, in which case he will bring some and finish it in the room with you and then tell you he’s done for the day.

You end up lying on his bed with him, contorted in whatever weird position makes your cramps hurt the least. It’s the middle of the day, but for once Lucifer doesn’t seem to mind. He’s just lying next to you with his hand splayed over your uterus or lower back, applying light pressure and warmth to help the pain go away. Quietly talking to you about stuff that doesn’t matter.

There’s no concern for productivity. Nor for terrorizing his brothers into order. It seems the key for making Lucifer take a day to just relax is to request his company while you’re in pain.

See, Lucifer’s driving force is how much he loves his family. He will go to ANY lengths to keep them safe and happy. It’s his main priority. You’re part of his family now. You’re the youngest, even… and you’re in pain. So, he’s okay with pushing off the work Diavolo gives him for a day. For you, it’s worth it.

There’s no paperwork in any realm that he would prioritize over comforting you when you’re in pain. He hopes you feel all the love in that sentiment.

You know how huge a declaration that action is, because there is NO other way to get Lucifer to voluntarily lie around in the middle of the day.

_______

Mammon: devotion -> generosity

Mammon was the first one you went to for help during your very first period in the Devildom.

After a short, frantic conversation about what happened to you, why, and how you normally deal with this, he set you up in his room with some towels, a spare set of his own comfortably worn in clothes, and a movie as he rushed out to find some Devildom substitute for the hygiene products you’re used to. Just, SOMETHING to absorb the blood in the meantime before he can get you products from the human world!

He would have gone to the human world immediately, but he’s not allowed and he doesn’t have time to talk Lucifer into letting him up there yet!! You have NOTHING to work with right now, he’s gotta figure something out ASAP!

He didn’t even think about the amount of money he’s willing to spend, or how else he could be using it. He may not have been willing to tell you how much he cares for you at that point, but he has always come through for you when it matters. Even in the early days.

You find yourself contemplating Mammon’s contrasting demeanour while he’s out. This isn’t the first demonstration of his responsible mode that you’ve seen. It’s fascinating, the way he acts so careless and tsundere until someone needs him—at which point he drops that image like it’s nothing, revealing the softhearted and protective big brother he really is.

In those moments, you can see in his personality that he helped raise 5 little brothers (and one Lilith, though you don’t learn about her until later) and is actually pretty damn good at it. It’s clear that he loves you more than he’s willing to admit in those rare moments, when showing it genuinely matters.

Anyway. He came home with an assortment of items for you. No medicine yet because he doesn’t trust that Devildom painkillers won’t harm you, but he brought a BUNCH of snacks, and a collection of things that can be used to absorb the blood for now, until he can get Lucifer to let him go get the stuff you normally use from the human world. You can take your pick.

He even commissioned an enchanter to make you a custom heating pad, because he doesn’t trust the ones meant for demons to not burn your skin. He didn’t think about the price. Frankly, he doesn’t care. Maybe he’ll remember to complain about it to save face later. Maybe.

His main concern—making sure you’re okay—left no room to think of that in that moment. He waves off your concern about bloodstains on the stuff he lent you before he went out. Being reassuring in his usual irreverent way, saying something about how he’s a demon, and demons don’t tend to be squeamish about blood. Hell if he cares, he says.

While you’re in the bathroom washing up and dealing with the bleeding (with a SECOND set of Mammon’s worn-in, comfy clothes that he put in your hands before shoving you into the bathroom, not giving you a second to refuse), Mammon is texting Lucifer to find a way to get you proper period supplies from the human world.

When you come back to him, he tells you that you’ll have what you need before you go to bed, but in the meantime you should sit, because he’s putting on another movie.

He watches you shift around uncomfortably over the next few minutes. Cramps, you know. You’re not exactly comfortable sitting the way you are. Without a word, he pulls you to lie down with your head resting on his leg. He’s looking away from you, indistinctly mumbling something about “so lucky I’m lookin’ after ya” and “what would ya do without the great Mammon” and “MY human, damn it” as he carefully rubs tension out of your back.

“What was that?” You ask him.

“Shut up an’ watch the damn movie!” He splutters.

You stay like that until Lucifer shows up with your requested items. Pads, tampons, a menstrual cup, painkillers, whatever it is you asked for.

Later that night, as Mammon persists in rubbing your back as another movie plays, you find that your trust in him is stronger than it has ever been before. You understand exactly why Mammon is the best demon to be in charge of your well-being. Lucifer chose him for a reason, and it’s impossible to miss. Mammon is so damn caring under the tsundere façade.

You feel so loved. You ARE so loved. The pain fades away under the warmth of his hands. His lap makes a good pillow, and Mammon makes a great guardian.

(Every month after this, he leaves his door open for you in case you want a distraction from the pain. He’s ready with snacks and a movie. He’ll happily do this for you every time.)

_______

Levi: passion -> gentleness

Whatever it is that Levi notices first—be it the blood, the worse mood, the regular time spent with Mammon every month—he freaks out. He’s like “AAAAWTF WHY ARE YOU BLEEDING ARE YOU DYING???” Or like “oh noooo are you mad at me why are you randomly sad do you hate me now??” Or like “why can’t you reschedule with Mammon and do this time limited event with me, do you not wanna play with me anymore???”

Either way, bro is suffering.

Eventually, either you or one of his older brothers explains to him, and he feels bad. He didn’t mean to stress you out worse! Also, periods are real?? He thought it was just some creative plot point in the occasional anime! That’s crazy, why are humans built like that??

Anyway. Levi’s nothing if not passionate, and he’s gonna turn some of that passion towards finding ways to make you more comfortable.

He will find a way to order all the human world snacks you crave while you’re bleeding. He will be on the lookout for gifts, like games and merch and manga you’d want. He stockpiles them so he always has something ready to cheer you up when you need that.

He will even do his best to redirect the envy he feels towards Mammon and his established routine of movies and snacks in his room with you lying in his lap and getting free back rubs on the first day of your period each month. He wants that to be him, damn it! But he’s not gonna disrupt that for you.

He WILL claim hanging out with you on your day 2 though, AND will fill in every time if Mammon’s not available. The only thing that can beat out his shyness at the idea of having you using his lap as a pillow is the raging envy at knowing MAMMON gets to have that every month!

(Eventually, once you figure out that Levi wants to be invited so bad, you just invite him. It’s not like you don’t want him there! He’s very happy to sit next to you with your legs in his lap while he ignores Mammon’s stupid movie and plays a game on his phone. It’s nice to have two demon pillows. This one’s got built-in cooling!)

Levi understands not wanting to deal with lights and noise and craziness when you’re in pain. He will prevent any of his brothers from bringing any of that around you with all the determination and passion he brings to everything he cares about.

He is remarkably gentle, for someone who is usually so excitable. So considerate! You can see in the way he forces everyone to only argue over text, in the gentle movement of cool, nimble hands over sore calves and hips and ankles, in the presentation of snacks and gifts determinedly brought to you from the human world, how much he cares about you. He loves you, he loves you, he loves you.

_______

Satan: research -> comfort

The first order of business for nerd boy here is, of course, research. He is gathering information from all his relevant contacts—every human sorcerer and witch he knows, every demon with a pact-bonded menstruating human they care about AND the aforementioned human, every healer, medical researcher, librarian…

Yeah, he’s gonna end up knowing more about it than you do.

He comes back home after a few days, mumbling about human endocrine systems and nutrition and medical malpractice of menstruating patients and the mechanics of blood production and every phase of a menstrual cycle and how pain works on a chemical level. He’s got notebooks and everything. He’s got the whole history of menstruation since the beginning of humanity summarized in one of those notebooks.

… Maybe it’s a bit overkill. But you know how he gets when he’s curious, especially about something that hurts you! He’s gotta know everything!

So now he’s infodumping to you about every symptom you mention. If you’re the sort of person who finds that interesting and helpful, perfect! If you’re not… well, he won’t be offended if you get mad at him for effectively mansplaining your own body to you. Demon-splaining? Whatever, either way he will take that correction with grace and only tell you information you directly ask for. He’s learned enough about menstruation to be very sympathetic and patient while you’re in the middle of it. It seems awful to him, and he’s not about to make it worse!

He’s wise enough to know that he should ask before ACTING on any of that information though. He won’t try to optimize your nutrition or your painkillers or anything unless you ask him to. He knows that would be too far. He’s not prideful enough to override you like that, he’s not Lucifer.

If you get really angry when you bleed, he’s got you! He understands, he encourages you to yell and rant in front of him all you want. Throw around some destructive spellwork or just break stuff if you need to, he’s got a room for that. It’s all good!

Satan is so good with practical comfort. He’s big on venting for your health and sanity. He knows what buttons not to push, they’re obvious to him as wrath incarnate.

Of course, he’ll also give you hugs and drive off his crazy brothers if you need peace. He’ll bring you to the cats when you get sick of people. He’ll find you any answer you need. If your cycle is irregular or in any way atypical, there’s no better demon to have searching for answers for you—and he’d NEVER let no medical malpractice happen to you. Doctors are GOING to take you seriously, damn it!

To him, there’s no such thing as too much hassle to help someone he loves so much as he loves you.

_______

Asmo: luxury -> selflessness

As the Avatar of Lust, there’s no way Asmo doesn’t know the basics of how menstrual cycles work. No way. Even if demons don’t get them, it’s relevant to his whole domain.

Asmo’s got you. He’s gonna spoil the hell out of you. Massages with fancy oils, hot baths with magic muscle relaxant products added, masks to prevent any skin issues from fluctuating hormones, everything he can think of.

If anyone even tries to make you do anything you don’t want to, he will destroy them. This is a time for rest, he insists!

He relishes any opportunity to relax with you, have a self-care day, just chill and recharge together… but he’s prioritizing you. You get to see the rare responsible Asmo during this time! If you have non-negotiable responsibilities, he’s helping you. He wants you to get done faster!

He’s actually got a pretty great strategic mind when he’s incentivized to use it! He’s so efficient! Only because he wants you to be in his room relaxing as fast as possible, but it’s totally there!

At the end of it all, it’s completely possible that he forgets about spoiling himself too, just because he got so focused on trying to take as much of your pain away as possible. It’s wild that he doesn’t think he has any capacity for selflessness. Good thing you know better.

_______

Beel: perceptiveness -> caring

Beel smells the blood. Immediately. At first he’s concerned but minds his own business, trusting that Mammon’s taking care of you. But after you’ve pacted with him? Not anymore.

Beel becomes your warning system. He will notify you as soon as the hormonal shift starts to happen. Days before you even start bleeding.

You know it’s because he cares, and that he can’t avoid noticing the change in your scent whether he wants to or not. You choose not to think it’s weird.

He gets worried once he learns about what happens to you every month. His first priority is making sure he doesn’t eat everything that’s high in iron, folic acid, vitamin C and D, and omega-3s. All very good for you when you’re on your period. He makes sure that stuff remains available to you.

He invites you to exercise with him too, because he heard that can be helpful. He won’t STOP you from lifting if that’s what you want to do, but HE is choosing to focus on stretching and moderate cardio for now (stuff that should be more helpful for you) and if you want to join him, well… that’s what he’s doing. What do you mean he changed it on purpose? He just felt like yoga and a nice jog today! Don’t think about it too hard!

Beel is actually the best one to go to for massages. Sure, Asmo knows what feels good and he’s phenomenal at that. True. But Beel is the one who understands every muscle and tendon in a body, so if you want a full, functional reset, in which all the tension and soreness in you gets methodically, optimally pressed out, you go to Beel. It might not feel quite as nice—in fact it might hurt a fair bit—but it’ll be so effective. You will have no pain at all after. Plus, he’ll teach you stretches to prevent some of that tension coming back later, too. He’s so helpful.

_______

Belphie: laziness -> service

We all know Belphie is the number one advocate for rest. He will encourage you to sleep through as much of it as possible. Why would you want to be awake to experience pain? Screw that. He will actively keep you asleep as long as possible—unless you tell him in advance that there has to be limits so you don’t bleed on everything you’re touching. Even so, he doesn’t quite see the problem. He’s a demon, he’s not squeamish about blood. What biohazard?

But no, he’ll respect that. If he’s a lil shit about it, all you have to do is pull the “remember that time you killed me” card and he’ll do whatever you want lol

In the biggest twist of irony since The Incident, Belphie actually finds himself serving as your alarm clock. It has to be him, you see, because he insists on sleeping next to you. He wants to be there to ensure you sleep through the night, and don’t ever get woken up by cramps. So it’s gotta be him to wake you up when it’s absolutely necessary. Because you see, he does not trust anyone else to understand what’s absolutely necessary. Only someone who loves sleep as much as him gets it, he insists.

Belphie is nothing if not lazy. Obviously. But… he’s actually voluntarily doing work on your behalf?? He’s concealing bloodstains on your sheets from you so you don’t feel uncomfortable, and washing them for you. He isn’t even telling you about that, so he isn’t even getting any thanks for it! How very kind and un-demonic of him!

(Of course, he’s mostly doing it because he doesn’t want you to feel embarrassed and stop sleeping next to him while you’re on your period. He’s got selfish reasons. But… really, it’s not very selfish at all when you look at how that benefits you too. How could he be so surprised to hear that you think he can be kind and sweet when he wants to be? How’s he not seeing it??)

He may deny that he’s actually a sweetie, but you know the truth. When sloth incarnate is voluntarily doing secret chores for you, you KNOW he loves you. It might as well be spilling out of his soul, it’s so undeniable.

_______

You’re bleeding. It’s miserable. No one likes their period. It’s made much more bearable for you, however, now that you have this ridiculous family falling over themselves to make your life easier. All the pain, all the hormonal fuckery, all the bullshit your body puts you through is… well, actually quite tolerable when you’re loved this much.

#obey me #obey me! shall we date? #obey me found family #obey me imagines #obey me headcanons #obey me platonic headcanons #obey me x reader #obey me & reader #obey me hurt/comfort #obey me fluff #obey me brothers #obey me lucifer #mammon obey me #obey me leviathan #levi obey me #satan obey me #obey me asmodeus #obey me asmo #obey me beel #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me belphie #obey me fanfic

[normansnt]

As you've likely seen by now, I've been reblogging nearly every Hazbin fic you have, which I apologize if that bothers you at all. I simply see a lack of the x male reader department for this show, which is ironic considering mostly all the characters are queer and so are the creators. So thank you for what you write and how well you write it! I was hoping I could make a request for a part two of a fic I rather liked "(Vox x bar tander!Male reader)" this one specifically. The reader left off having their soul contract bought and offered to be a bartender at the Vee's private bar, and I was wondering what would happen from there?

HIIIIII

THANK YOU FOR THE REQUEST

Im really sorry it took so long😭

Also THANK YOU SO MUCH for the reblogs is doesn't bother me at all IM SO HAPPY YOU LIKE MY WRITING💗💗

I HOPE YOU LIKE IT, I THINK IT TURNED OUT PRETTY GOOD😌

ENJOY READING LOVELY PEOPLE

Warnings: Attempted Rape, violance V@lentino

Habit of saving

as a thank you pt.2

Vox x bartender!male reader

"I just dont fucking understand why the fuck you prefer the company of a lowly bartender over mine"

You hear Valentino's yelling from the other room, again.

This was not uncommon. Since you became the bartender in the Vees manor Vox visited the bar more often than before.

You guys spent hours talking and just because of the drinks either, he barely drunk anything cuz he was busy talking to you.

However, this of course annoyed Valentino. He wanted Vox's attention purely on himself.

"I don't." Said Vox, you know, like a lier.

"Work has just been really stressful lately and I need more drinks than before."

This was all lies. But Vox was not in the mood to be taking Valentino's shit, he would much rather go get a drink with you.

"Bullshit, I know how your work is and you blame everything on it, you dont even want to fuck me anymore are you a fucking moron do you know how many people want to get with ME."

And here he goes again. Vox was a little embarrassed though. It was true that since you arrived he was never in the mood to do it with Val, but he found himself having much more sex dreams with you.

He got red at the thought of that.

"You know what, I don't fucking care, go be happy with your boy toy; but don't you dare forget that you are where you are because of me." Ended the Argument Valentino as he grabbed a bottle from above your head, and walked out of the room.

You were silent during the whole argument. You knew it was not smart to start defending Vox you tried that once and, well, Vox had to stich you up afterwards.

"Care for a drink, sir?" You asked Vox. He was still, just standing in the middle of the room looking at the door.

He felt weird. Well, not weird, happy. But that was strange. Usually he felt guilty or annoyed when Valentino stormed off after a fight, usually he wanted to go after him. But not now. Now he felt...calm. Relieved even. He really wanted to sit down and have that drink with you.

"Yes, I would love a drink, and I've told you multiple times to call me Vox."

"Yeah I know but I didn't want to risk Val still hearing it." You chuckled.

"So, the usual, Vox?"

"Obviously." He answered back.

"Are you ok?" You asked as you poured his drink. You two were close enough for this not to be an awkward question. You were the bartender, you have comforted him after a night of drunken crying and put him to bed multiple times. He always asked you to stay. You never did. You just didn't feel ready yet.

"Getting better by the day, his antics don't affect me as strongly anymore." He commented calmly.

"I'm glad." You gave him his drink and you two continued talking.

And you talked, long into the night. Vox got a bit drunk again.

"All right mister I think it's time to get you to bed." You said smiling softly as you were about to jump from behind the bar and help him to his room.

"I can take care of him." Came a creepy calm voice from the door way. You saw Valentino.

He had a fake smile on his face. You knew this was trouble but he was kind of your boss.

"All right, sir." You just answered quietly, as Val took Vox and started to take him to his room.

"What-no, you-- (Y/N)--I, don't"

Vox mumbled drunken.

When they left the room you had a silent debate with yourself.

Yes Val was your boss. But you knew that taking advantage of someone while they're drunk was not below him.

"Fuck it" you mumbled to yourself as you jumped from behind the bar and tried to quietly run after them.

Thankfully you found them when they were about to enter the room.

When they got in you made sure to put your foot between the door and the frame so it doesn't close.

You peered into the room and you saw Val throw Vox onto the bed.

"You fucking whore, you couldn't keep your hands of the cute bartender boy could you."

He started angrily as he stepped onto Vox's screen, breaking it. You already wanted to barge in there when you saw this but when he started unbuckling his belt, thats when you snapped.

You jumped on Val, literally. And while the man might be powerful he had close to no muscles so he crumbled under you.

You knew you had close to no chance of winning. But you didn't care. You had to save Vox.

You tried to cut off Val's breathing by holding onto his neck for dear life. You might have been physically stronger he was still an overlord. A very powerful one.

You expected to be thrown down onto the floor any minute when the struggling finally stopped.

Your eyes opened widely as you hurriedly got off of Valentino.

You started panicking. What the fuck did you just kill an overlord? No, no there is no way he is so powerful why didn't he stop you.

You kneeled down and checked for a heart beat.

When you felt faint beating a boulder fell off your shoulder.

"Thank fuck" you commented to yourself. He probably just passed out.

But still why didn't he stop you.

You thought about it a but when it hit you. He was probably batshit drunk himself. You saw that when he walked away from the bar he barely managed to walk straight.

You were still panting.

You looked over at Vox and a strong feeling of sadness filled you.

You stepped over Vals passed out form and lifted up Vox.

He was lighter than you thought. You carried him all the way to your room where you knew you had a first aid kit.

Sure you could have just bring the first aid kit to him but you were not going to leave him alone with Valentino jot even for a second. Not even when they're both passed out.

After you put Vox's screen back together and batched him up you laid him down onto your bed.

This gave you time to think things through.

Even you couldn't explain to yourself why you cared about Vox this much.

Its true you have become very close during your time working here.

But there are people who you have known longer yet do not love as much as him.

...love?

You love him?

"(Y/N)"

While you were occupied with your thought you didn't notice the time. It was morning already.

"Yeah, Vox?"

"What the fuck happened?" He asked as he started touching his patched up screen.

You told him everything. You also told him that you will very likely have to leave because once Val wakes up...you don't want to know what he'll do to you.

"He can't do anything your soul is mine you are under my protection." He said firmly. He sat silently after that. Like someone who is contemplating something.

"Can I ask you something?"

He asked after a long silence.

"Of course"

"Why did you save me?"

This surprised you.

"Well, I mean I know what Val is like and...I just did what any normal person would do really-"

"No. You know no one in hell would to that for the demon that owns their soul. Not to mention this was the second time you saved me."

"...I honestly don't know why I did it the first time; I guess I just felt like...I dont know"

"And the second time."

You couldn't answer this. You knew the answer but you didn't want to say it.

"Well, you are a nice boss you treat me with kindness and-"

"No one would attack a powerful overlord just to safe their boss who is just 'nice'; try answering truthfully this time."

Well fuck. You knew Vox was a smart man but that didn't help you in this situation.

"I..." you didn't know what to do. You could come up with another lie but he would detect it no problem.

"I love you" you blurted out before you could stop yourself. The moment the words left your lips you smacked your hands onto your lips.

"I'm sorry sir I will leave-"

Vox took your hand in his when you wanted to stand up and pulled you towards him.

With one swift movement he placed his lips on your in a tender kiss.

You have never kissed a screen before but you were pretty sure it wasn't supposed to be like this.

His lips were soft but cold. It was an amazing kiss.

"Oh, you're not going anywhere." Said Vox while he let out a little chuckle.

"Because I love you too."

#male reader #hazbin x reader #hazbin x you #hazbin hotel x male reader #male y/n #hazbin hotel #hazbin vox #vox x male reader #vox x reader #hazbin hotel vox

[python333]

Hello!! I absolutely adore your 141 platonic fics, I litterlay giggle and kick my feet when you post new storys about it. Especially since they're always gender neutral! Litteraly always check to see if youve posted a new fic, but anways!

I'm a really big sucker for found family mental health fics, especially when I'm experiencing rough times. If your comfortable with it, I was wondering if you could make the 141 catch Reader self harming or maybe just seeing the self harm on their arms accidentally and comforting them. Always love a comforting found family fic on cold nights.

If it's easier, I really love really any of your hurt/comfort type 141 fics with all my soul and eat them up anytime you post them. Especially since there isnt much gn!reader and TF 141 platonic hurt/comfort fics. So if you aren't busy than that's another option I would love to see!!

If your uncomfortable with it then that's fine and you can just ignore this post! Make sure to take care if youself aswell author. You're absolutely amazing! 🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼

self-slaughter — python333

— — — —

synopsis reader is a medic and is caught harming themselves by the 141 in the medbay!

relationships platonic!taskforce 141 & gn!reader

characters cap. price, soap, ghost, gaz.

word count 6.6k

warnings self-harm [specifically using a scalpel], self-harm scars, dark thoughts [nothing too bad, but thoughts of pulling off your skin and harming yourself], painful wound cleaning [with iodopovidone], 2nd person pov [you/yours/yourself], usage of c/n [code name/call sign].

note hello anon!! i too am a big sucker for found family mental health fics, and completely understand this request, and i will happily write it for you!! a lot of this is based on my own experiences with this, so i hope that's okay and that you enjoy the fic!! as well as this request, i'll use this fic as an excuse to write a few prompts on my bad things happen bingo card, which will be displayed at the end of the fic! the prompt used will be: painful wound cleaning! expect wayyyy more angst after this LMAO. also, if this feels like glorification or anything else inappropriate for a fic like this, then please let me know! since it's mainly based on my own experiences, i assume it wouldn't feel *too* much like that, but still!

It gets kind of old after so long of doing it. 

Almost like it’s a chore—as if stealing glances at your medical equipment, tools meant to save the lives of others, and wishing that it were being used to draw blood from your body was just an inconvenience. You complain about it in your head like you used to about school, like it was nothing more than some homework that was due a minute before midnight. 

Right now, you’re alone in the medical bay. It wasn’t often that you were, typically two bumbling idiots would stumble in every few minutes talking about how they got injured while sparring, but for the past thirty minutes it’s been silent. While you appreciated the break from the constant explanations of why the soldiers you were to tend to had gotten injured, with the silence came very unwanted thoughts. 

And with nobody to focus on came your unwilling lingering stare at the sharp scalpel on the small metal equipment cart that was just a few feet away from where you sat. It didn’t help that you felt oddly guilty today, either. 

Well, the guilt wasn’t odd. You knew where it came from. It just felt odd, considering the cause for it happened a week ago. 

The cause had been on a critical mission last week, where you were responsible for carrying medical supplies and ensuring the team’s well-being and general health. The medical equipment wasn’t particularly expensive or hard to get, but it was still incredibly important. 

However, on that same mission, right towards the end of it, you’d been caught in the midst of an intense gunfight. Distracted by the heavy enemy fire, you dropped the small bag you’d been using to carry the medical supplies, and hadn’t noticed you did until it was too late. By the time you and the others were out and heading back to base, you had just realized you left behind the medical equipment. 

All week, your fellow task force members had reassured you that it was okay and that it wasn’t that big of a deal, considering nobody got hurt. Still, even a week later, you’re hung up on it. Had someone gotten injured, what could you have done? You didn’t have any supplies to help them, so what would you have done then? Just the thought of that possibility makes you shudder. 

The scalpel looks so tempting.

It’s not like you hadn’t used it before—you have the scars to prove you had, ranging from small lines that could be mistaken for cat scratches to tiger-stripe length cuts that make your thighs look as though they’d been mauled by a large animal. As elegantly as you describe them in your head, the visuals of them aren’t nearly as pretty. With the help of that scalpel, a few sharp needles, and some medical scissors, you’d successfully made it look as though a bear had tried to attack you and tear your legs off. 

Ironic, isn’t it? A medic harming themselves? 

Your job is to literally save the lives of others, and here you are, staring at the closest thing you have to a knife in the medbay. It’s become as easy as blinking for you—which is scary, honestly, the way you’ve developed a tolerance for cutting yourself and stapling your skin back together if you’ve cut too long or deep. 

It’s no longer enough to just scrape something sharp across your skin and watch blood bubble up from the broken seams of your flesh, no, now you have to cut even deeper to actually feel anything. You have to feel the scalpel being buried to the hilt in your flesh, and you have to see the way blood spurts out of the self-inflicted wound after you pull out the tool. 

You continue to stare at the scalpel, sure that you look like you’re in some sort of trance right now. 

It looks so tempting. You can remember the last time you used it—three days ago, the longest you’d gone without it in a while. Similar to cigarette-addicts, you often tell yourself that you’re able to stop whenever you’d like—that you’re able to quit at any time. It’s a lie, and you know it, but you still like to pretend that it’s true. 

You’re still staring at the scalpel. 

Its sharpened edge reflects the overhead light, creating a bright glow that strains your eyes when you stare at it for too long. The metal of the handle is worn down from use, even though it’d only been in the medbay for maybe a few months—something nobody had questioned yet, thankfully. The clean blade, replaced just yesterday, had no traces of filth or grime on it, making it even more tempting. 

You blink. You hadn’t noticed the burning of your eyes until you forced them away from the small knife. 

You move your gaze to your lap, where you fiddle with your fingers, gently tugging at a hangnail that’s been lingering on your thumb for the past few minutes. As you pull on it, you feel the sting that it brings, though that sting now feels dull compared to the other things you’ve done to yourself. 

It almost feels like a small pinch compared to the ways you’ve mutilated your thighs on certain nights that didn’t allow you the energy to do anything else, or the ways you’ve carved apologies in the forms of lines into your arms to try and gain forgiveness for your thoughts and temptations. 

You pull the hangnail off completely and watch the miniscule droplets of blood bleed through your flesh and meet your skin and nail. Before you only had the energy to do your job and harm yourself, you would’ve hissed at the sting pulling off the small bit of skin caused you and grabbed a bandaid immediately, but now, all you can think about is how it isn’t enough. 

About how much better you’d feel if you pulled all your skin off. If you could feel every inch of your skin stretched to its limits and torn off of your body, because God knows you deserve it. 

The thought makes you wince. That is… disgusting. Why am I thinking about that? You shake your head in hopes that it would shake away the dark thought, but instead the action makes it rattle inside your brain and break off into tiny bits in pieces, small unwanted thoughts of wounding your flesh rolling around your mind. 

Similarly to Sisyphus and his boulder, you try to push those thoughts out of your mind, your hands starting to curl into tight fists, but you just can’t. Every time you push a thought back, it comes rolling back to the forefront of your mind, the momentum it gets from being pushed back so far only to get rocketed forwards making it even more unbearable to think about. 

The fists your hands have formed become tighter. 

Each thought that gets pushed back only jumps forwards once again, ricocheting around your brain, the effort of trying to ignore them making your ears ring. 

Before you realize it, your gaze snaps back to the scalpel. 

You don’t even notice the blood that begins to spill from your palms from how deeply your nails cut into your skin. 

Every thought tries to be louder than the other, creating an unholy cacophony of sound; a terrifying harmony that only grew louder every second that passed. You stare at the scalpel. It continues to reflect the bright gleam of the overhead light, and it continues to make your eyes strain the more you look at it, but you can’t find it in yourself to be all that bothered about the eyestrain. 

You unclench your fists and stand up, walking the short distance over to the metal medical cart where the scalpel lays, and you grab the handle of it with shaky hands. You look over at the door for a moment, and stay there for another few seconds.

Once you see that nobody’s coming in, you rush yourself to one of the beds, sliding open the curtains in front of it and sliding them back so that they’ll obscure anyone else’s view of you using the scalpel on yourself. 

You sit on the bed and although the scalpel almost slips out of your hand because of the blood from your palms, you manage to keep held in your tight fist, holding it like you would a pencil; tucked under the base of your thumb, and going through the gap between your index and middle finger. 

With your hands still trembling and your breath uneven, as well as a bustling mind that only grew louder as the scalpel in your hand grew closer to the skin of your forearm, you made the first incision. Almost immediately, your mind quieted, and your headache dimmed. 

Quickly becoming addicted to the feeling of a clear head, you lift the scalpel from your skin, not waiting to watch the blood bubble up from your open wound like you usually would, instead opting to make another incision right next to it.

Being a medic, there was nothing you could really do to stop yourself from thinking about how deep each incision was, and how deep you were cutting into your flesh—so while you cut yourself, a train of thought begun. 

Half an inch deep, You push the scalpel deeper, Now a full inch. Should take a month or two to fully heal. Wouldn’t scar. 

The thought of it not scarring should make you happy, or at least, neutral, but instead the thought makes you frown. Some odd hunger that comes from the indefinite pit in your stomach craves evidence for the malice you’ve shown towards your own skin, something that would prove your self-hatred. 

So, you go another half inch deeper. Scarring would be possible, but not as high of a chance as if you went another half inch. With that thought, you go the last half inch. There we go. 

You slide the scalpel blade through your flesh, the blade cutting through it like it would a firm fruit like a pear. It’s easier to cut through skin when the skin is pulled taut, You think, If only I had an extra hand.

You pull out the blade and repeat. You feel less guilty already.

All that worry about fucking up during your last assignment washes away, like the wave of guilt that overcame you earlier receded and pulled back that worry with it, lowering the tide of shame and self-reproach within you. In fact, the tide lowers so much that it almost completely disappears from your mind—like it never existed in the first place.

Reminds me of a tsunami, You repeat your actions with the scalpel, When the tides get low, so low that the ocean floor shows and you could walk where you’d originally have to swim, it’s because a tsunami is building up.

You look down at your work. Your forearm is a bloody mess, crimson red dripping down to your fingers and threatening to drop onto the stark white sheets of the bed you’re sitting on. You sigh tiredly and get up from the bed, putting the end of the scalpel’s handle into your mouth—ignoring the voice in the back of your head that reprimands you for not thinking about bacteria or contamination—and biting down to hold it whilst you slide the curtains in front of the bed to the side, walking out of the small resting area. 

You grab the scalpel and set it onto the metal medical cart by your desk, grabbing the gauze on that same cart, opening the small box it’s kept in with your non-bloody hand. It’s a struggle, but you manage it open, and you shake the roll of gauze out onto the cart. 

In the middle of you attempting to pull the end of the gauze off of the roll so that you could begin to wrap it around the red lines decorating your forearm, you hear loud footsteps walking near the medbay. You freeze in place, the gauze roll in one hand, your eyes burning holes through the door with how intensely you stare at it. 

There’s a knock. Then another. 

The door handle twists. 

You stare at the door, and everything feels like it’s in slow motion for a second. 

The door opens. 

“Hey, dae ye hae any—” Soap walks in, the sergeant taking one look at you before cutting himself off with a confused and immediately worried, “Holy shit, whit happened tae yer arm? Are ye alright?” 

He rushes over to you and takes your bleeding forearm into his hand. You almost immediately rip it away from his grip. 

“Nothing! Everything’s fine! Just an accident,” You lie, holding the blood-covered forearm close to your chest, “I was just about to clean it up.” 

“Dae ye need help wrappin’ it, an cleanin’ it up, or anything?” Soap asks, eyebrows furrowed and his expression beyond worried. 

“Nope,” You insist, “It’s fine. All good here.” 

“... Ye sure?” 

“Uh huh,” You nod your head, “All good. Don’t worry about it.” 

“‘kay then,” Soap tilts his head and crosses his arms, “Whit happened?” 

“Just a little accident with some of the equipment,” You nod down to the bloody scalpel on the medical cart, “That’s all.” 

It must be obvious you’re lying, because Soap sighs and says, “I think we baith ken that that’s a lie.” 

You stay silent for a few moments, before Soap speaks up again, “Ye ken if ye dinnae tell me, I’ll jist jump tae conclusions, richt?”

You take a deep breath before mumbling something under your breath. When Soap’s eyebrows draw together in confusion, you repeat louder, “I used the scalpel. On myself.” 

“Ye whit?” 

“I used the scalpel on myself,” You look away, and rush out, “and I’m really sorry, I just couldn’t help it, it’s not like— like a normal thing or anything, it’s just this once, I swear, and— and—” 

“[c/n], calm down,” Soap quickly uncrosses his arms and sets both hands onto your shoulders, furrowed eyebrows now taking a more concerned shape, “It’s okay.” 

You take a deep breath and look at him, looking at his nose instead of his eyes because you don’t think you could handle eye contact right now, “I’m really sorry.” 

“Why would ye dae that tae yerself?” Soap asks, voice soft and almost pitying, which makes you want to curl up and die. 

You shrug, not wanting to answer verbally. 

“Dae ye— dae the others ken?” Soap questions. 

“No.” 

“I’m—” Soap looks conflicted for a moment, “I hae an assignment… I’ll get Gaz tae help ye, aye? An’ I’ll check in wi’ ye as soon as possible?” 

You hesitate, but end up nodding in agreement, thankful that Soap offered to get Gaz rather than one of the others. The others seemed so oddly scary right now that you don’t even want to think about how they’d react to this whole situation. It’s all gone by so fast—one moment you were sitting on a hospital bed, the next you’re found out by Soap of all people—you’ve barely had time to think about the others. 

“Okay. Okay, okay,” Soap repeats the word under his breath like a mantra, thinking to himself for a second before sighing and looking down at you again, “Jesus, fuck, okay. I’ll go get him, ye stay here, aye?” 

You nod again, this time your vision begins to get more blurred. 

“Ye’re gonnae be okay, okay?” Soap tries to reassure you. You nod once again, sniffling a little bit, making Soap’s gaze soften.

He takes his hands off of your shoulders and gives you one last sad look before turning around and rushing out of the medbay, his thundering footsteps growing quieter as he gets closer to Gaz’s location—most likely his sleeping quarters. 

You wait a moment and when you hear no footsteps, your gaze goes back to the blade. It’s not like it’ll hurt to do a few more. I’ll stop when the others arrive. 

You grab the handle of the blade, and as quickly as you can, akin to an addict scrambling for substance, you slice through the skin of your non-mutilated hand. You make several quick and deep gashes before dropping the scalpel onto the medical cart again, breathing heavy, the cuts this time actually hurting. It felt like fire was running rampant through your nerves, all stemming from the self-induced wounds, and you winced at the new pain. It wasn’t anything you weren’t used to, but still.

When you hear footsteps again, you can tell they aren’t Soap’s. 

The door clicks open and in walks Gaz, already looking very worried—presumably from what Soap told him about your… situation—with another person in tow. Right behind him, Price walks in, expression neutral so far. 

Gaz looks over at you, his eyes widening as he sees the bloody gashes in your forearms. Without a second thought, he rushes over to you, his hand reaching for your forearm. Before you can stop him, he grabs your bloody forearm and pulls it up a bit so that he can look at it closer. You flinch, and Price quickly walks over to you two before Gaz can even utter a single word. 

“Let’s not, okay?” Price’s version of ‘knock it off’, “I’m here, I’ll take care of their… thing. You hand me what I tell you to. Understood?” 

“Yup— Yes, sir. Captain,” Gaz corrects himself quickly, making a slip-up that in any other situation would’ve made you at least chuckle, but all you can do now is stare at the pair as you hold your bloody arms to your chest. 

Price looks back over to you and nods over to one of the many empty curtain-surrounded beds and says, “Go sit over there and wait for a few seconds.” 

You nod, not knowing what else to do or say, and immediately walk over there. It’s the room furthermost to the right, the one that’s also the closest to the door and the one you’d coincidentally gone into to cut yourself. 

You slide the curtains to the side and sit down on the white bed, and just a few seconds later, just as Price said, he walked in as well. He sat next to you, Gaz in tow, the latter carrying a jar of cotton pads and balls as well as a bottle of Betadine.

Betadine—or iodopovidone, whichever name you preferred—was a sort of antiseptic that was generally used for cleaning cuts and wounds. Maybe not ones as deep as yours, but it would still work just as well. 

Despite it not being alcohol-based, or really having any alcohol in it, it still hurts the same as rubbing alcohol would, which you were… definitely not looking forward to.

“Sergeant,” Price takes the jar and bottle of Betadine from Gaz, “Go and grab the skin stapler for me.” 

“Yes, sir,” Gaz nods, walking out of the room once again. Price sets the jar and bottle of Betadine onto the bed beside himself after he leaves.

With you and Price now in the room alone, he turns to you and holds out his hand with his palm faced up for your arm silently. You carefully put your forearm onto his hand, watching as he gently pulls it closer to him, looking a bit closer at it before sighing through his nose and using his free hand to open the jar of cotton pads. 

“How did this happen?” He asks, breaking the silence. 

“Soap didn’t fill you in?”

“No.”

You think about what to tell him for a moment. What’s too straightforward? What’s too vague? How do I not overstep? How do I not sound like I just want attention? 

Eventually, you settle on, “I was— … I saw the uh… scalpel, and I just… decided to use it a little bit. On myself.” Definitely not the best you can do, but what else could you say? ‘Oh, I cut myself with a scalpel because I felt guilty and if I didn’t I probably would’ve had a panic attack or a mental breakdown’?

“…” Price pauses for a moment, eyes twitching for a split second before he continues his movements to grab a cotton pad and questions you, “Why?”

“Why what?”

“You know what I’m asking, [c/n].” 

He’s asking why you did it. There’s not one simple answer you could give him—sure, you could tell him that you felt guilty and it was a bad habit that you’ve told yourself you could stop but never tried to, but that wouldn’t be the whole truth.

You can’t fully express or dictate why you do it, you just do. It’s like when you cut slits into bread before baking it. Without those slits, the bread would crack and split at the seams on its own, but with them, the splitting and expanding of the dough is controlled. 

Except, with you, it’s like you’re cutting yourself before the tension building inside of you makes you burst at the seams. Taking a blade to your skin has given you a sense of control—maybe that’s why it’s so addicting, You think, it’s the only way I’ve been able to control my feelings. 

But you can’t just say all of that. Well, you could, but did you want to? Fuck no. 

Instead, you opt for shrugging, which doesn’t satisfy Price one bit. 

“I could see you thinking about it,” He sighs, “I know you at least have some sort of real answer.” 

Well, fuck. “It’s a long answer.” 

“I never said it couldn’t be.”

He doesn’t move to grab the Betadine at all, instead waiting for you to talk. 

You purse your lips and think for another moment before finally talking again, “I was feeling really guilty and tense, and I guess it just got too much, so I just kind of… had to. Like I felt like I was gonna fuckin’… I dunno, have a nervous breakdown or something. And honestly, it’s a really stupid reason, because the thing that I’m feeling guilty about happened like a week ago, but still—I’ve been feeling really guilty about it. It—It’s not like I can’t stop, if I tried I could, I swe—swear, and I just— it’s been really easy to just— you know? I— honestly, it’s not that big of a deal—” 

“Hey, hey—” Price brings a hand to your shoulder and softens his voice, “It’s okay. I understand.” 

“I ju—st… I’m sorry, I—” 

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Price reassures you, quickly bringing that same hand up to cup your jaw, “You’re okay. You don’t have to say sorry.” 

“But I—” 

“Shh.” You hadn’t even noticed how frantic your breathing had gotten during your small word vomit. And to just make things worse, there’d been tears gathering at your water line, well on their way to spilling over and creating tear tracks down your cheeks. 

You can’t help but let go of all the tension in your shoulders the moment Price starts gently rubbing his thumb back and forth over your cheek. The moment he does that, it’s practically game over for you. 

Those tears spill out from the corners of your eyes and you can already feel your next breath get caught in your throat, leaving you to just let Price gently guide your head to lean forwards against his chest, letting out small hiccups and trying desperately to hold back the sobs you want to let out.

It all happened so fast, you don’t even know how you got here. One moment you were doing a good job of somewhat keeping your guard up, the next your resolve was crumbled completely by the gentle and oddly caring touch of Price’s hand.

Suddenly, there’s a knock at the door, then someone walks in while you’re burying your head further into Price’s chest—Ghost. You can tell it’s him by the way he walks. He has long strides, he never drags his feet, and the moment he slides the curtains to the side to see you, his footsteps stop. They start up again a moment later, and he sits by your side, opposite of where Price is sitting—to your right instead of your left. 

Gaz must’ve let him in while he was looking for the stapler, You think, sniffling against Price’s chest. Normally, you would’ve felt some sort of shame by now, but given the current situation, you didn’t find much room to give a shit. 

You feel Price’s head move up slightly, and judging by the way he occasionally nods and sometimes moves his hands a bit, you can only assume that he’s having some sort of nonverbal conversation with Ghost right now. This conversation goes on for about a few minutes longer before you’ve managed to control your breathing a bit more. 

Price can tell, and he asks just for confirmation, “Is it alright if I clean your cuts now?” 

You nod and sniffle once before taking your head off of Price’s chest, looking down at your lap, simply holding out one of your blood-crusted arms to him. You can see Ghost stiffen up behind you almost immediately at the sight of it. 

Price grabs a cotton pad from the jar he was handed earlier, as well as the bottle of iodopovidone, and soaks the cotton pad with said iodopovidone. Once it’s soaked with the antiseptic solution, he hesitates before pressing it to your bloody arms. 

Almost immediately, you inhale a sharp breath and feel tears stinging your eyes again. 

“It’s okay,” Price tries to calm you down, seeing the tears forming in your eyes again, “You’re okay.” 

You sniffle and shift on the bed, trying to blink away tears that threaten to spill over your water line. Ghost, sitting by your side, puts a gloved hand over your shoulder, his thumb rubbing gentle circles into your shoulder. His eyes twitch as you bite the inside of your cheek to muffle another sob while Price presses another Betadine-infused cotton pad to your self-induced wounds, and although you can barely see him, out of the corner of your eye, you still catch the glint of new tears gathering at the corners of his eyes as he watches you. 

Gaz slips back through the curtains in front of the bed, this time with Soap in tow, and hands a skin stapler to Price. Seeing the skin stapler, something you used fairly often—often enough that the others knew how it worked and how to use it—automatically made your stomach turn.

“Told ye I’d come back for ye,” Soap murmurs, kneeling down to get about eye-level with you. You huff out the smallest laugh at his words and he gives you a small smile that makes you want to go lock yourself in a room with a scalpel and repeat what you’d done earlier all over again, his empathetic expression paining you more than taking a blade to your arm.

As a matter of fact, the expressions that you wish were pity coming from everyone around you hurts more than anything you could’ve ever done to yourself. Their concern was so unexpected—not that you don’t think they care, but you never thought they cared this much. You didn’t think that, if caught in the act, you would receive empathetic looks and solemn smiles, rather thinking that you would receive reprimanding. That you’d be punished for punishing yourself. 

Price thanks Gaz silently with the curt nod of his head before turning back to you with a solemn expression that in all honesty makes you more guilty and disappointed with yourself than before. He holds the skin stapler like he would a hot glue gun, looking down at the open wounds in front of him, and holds your forearm closer to him so he can see the edges of the cuts better. 

"Keep your arm like that," He murmurs, to which you respond with a nod and stiffening your arm so that it stays in the air where Price positioned it. He uses his now free hand to gently pull the edges of the cut you'd made closer together, aligning them the best he can before pressing the metal staple dispenser to the cut and pushing down on the trigger, stapling the two edges together with a click. 

He holds it down for an extra second before releasing and pulling the stapler away from your skin, and although the process only took around three seconds, you'd never get used to the feeling of getting your skin stapled. You make a small, pained noise that has Soap wincing as well--as though he can feel it too--and Price looking more solemn than earlier. 

“Finished with this one,” Price mutters as you swallow down another sob, holding his calloused-but-soft hand out for you to put your other forearm in. You do just that, nearly breaking into a fit of new sobs at the small ‘thank you’ Price utters. 

You watch Price soak another cotton pad with iodopovidone with his free hand and suck in a deep breath as he presses it to your forearm, the originally white cotton pad almost immediately going red. Tears spill over your waterline and roll down your cheeks as he continues to clean and disinfect your wounds, and before you can move your free hand to wipe them away, Ghost does so for you, his rough gloved hand swiping below your eyes quickly. 

You mumble a small 'thank you' that's barely even audible, sniffling as you can’t help but lean forward the tiniest bit into Ghost’s hand as it lingers on your cheek. He pauses, keeping it there for a second, before bringing that same hand up to the crown of your head and pushing gently on it to urge you to lean your head back. You do so, the back of your head quickly making contact with his Adam’s apple and the top of your head becoming tucked underneath his chin. 

His hand goes back down to your shoulder and continues its ministrations of rubbing small circles into said shoulder, bringing you intermittent moments of comfort throughout the painful wound cleaning you had to endure. 

Soap keeps a comforting hand on your knee as he’s kneeled down in front of you, his thumb occasionally copying Ghost’s, but otherwise remaining still on your knee, careful not to force you through too many different sensations at once. 

Gaz watches you from by the curtain, seeming not to do and looking completely lost. He stands there for another moment, watching the others, seeing what they’re doing for a second, before giving Ghost a ‘one moment’ signal by holding up his index finger and stepping out of the curtain-surrounded area.

Right after he does, another painful sting shoots up your nerves from your forearm, and you make the mistake of looking down at it. 

Wounds that only fifteen minutes ago had brought you to a calmer state of mind and were nothing more than incisions made by the scalpel you’d used to cut other people for entirely different reasons now almost hurt to look at. Once you could’ve compared them to marks left by wild animals, and you could’ve described them as though they were trophies, but now, as you stare down at them being cleaned by your own captain, they look nothing like the sort. 

They don’t look like any of the pretty descriptions you’d given them. They don’t look like cat scratches you’d gotten in an accident, or like something you would get out of a fight with a bear—they don’t make you look strong and brave like you thought they did. 

They look like tally marks. Sanguineous, gruesome tally marks, made by you, like you’d been counting down the days—or seconds, minutes, hours—until you’d had enough. Until you’d had enough of just carving your skin with medical equipment, and needed something more. Craved something more. 

Price must notice you staring down at the wounds, because he pauses in his movements to clean them for a moment, the sudden stopping of the stinging sensation the iodopovidone-soaked cotton making you shiver. You look up at him, and see him already looking down at you, concerned. 

“You’re thinking about something,” He points out softly, “Tell me what’s going on in that head of yours.” 

You hesitate and look back down at your arm that Price had stopped cleaning, before mumbling, “Just thinking about how these are gonna scar.” It’s not entirely a lie, but not entirely the truth either. 

Price tilts his head to the side a bit, questioningly, “Do you know how they’re gonna scar?” 

“Well, when you work in the medical field for a bit, it gets easier to tell.”

You can tell he wants to ask how they’re gonna scar, so you decide to just say, “They’re all about one-and-a-half to two inches deep, so they’ll heal fully and then scar in a few months. Once they do, they’ll be visible, but not too prominent. The scarring tissue will stick above the skin a little bit, and it’ll make it look a little bit puffy.” 

“Alright,” Price hums, tone neutral, “So they’ll be… visible.” 

He sounds disgusted, A voice in the forefront of your mind insists, while one from the back of your mind tries to tell you, You have no way of knowing that, just see where the conversation goes. He has no reason to be disgusted with you.

“Yeah.” 

“Okay then,” Price sets the cotton pad down and grabs the skin stapler he’d been using earlier, “And it’ll take a few months to heal, you said?” 

“Several months, yeah.” Price considers this for a moment, pausing in his movements to hold the stapler to your skin. 

“Do you think you’ll need any help re-wrapping the bandages while they heal?” He inquires, resuming his movements after asking the question. 

“…” You think for a moment, Will you?, and after a few seconds, hesitantly, you reply, “… Yeah.” 

“M’kay,” Price hums softly, neutrally. “And would you want me to be the one who does it?” 

You think for another few minutes. Preferably, you’d be doing them yourself, but you didn’t trust yourself enough for that—so getting one of them to do it for you is your next best option. You wouldn’t mind if it was Price doing it, but at the same time, you wouldn’t mind if Ghost, Gaz, or Soap did it either. 

“It doesn’t matter,” You settle on, before tacking on, “As long as it’s one of you four.” 

“Us ‘four’ being… ?” 

“You, Soap, Ghost, and Gaz.” 

“Got it,” Price nods. You see Soap smile softly out of the corner of your eye before he quickly stops, trying to purse his lips into a line. He’s probably thinking that he shouldn’t be happy about that, You think, almost amused. You feel Ghost’s thumb stutter on your shoulder as well, before it starts back up normally. 

Your words affect them more than you thought they would. 

Breaking your train of thought, Price staples your skin with a muted click, making you wince. 

It’s silent for a few more moments before Gaz finally comes back, now out of breath and carrying a bar of chocolate. He hands you the chocolate bar and says, panting, “I almost had to spar someone for that. Why do you have to like the chocolate one of the other fuckin’ Lieutenants do?” 

You take the chocolate bar with your free hand gingerly and blink at it for a few moments before setting it down next to you. 

“Nobody told you to get it,” You shrug, before tacking on, “Thank you, though.” 

“Uh-huh, yeah, totally, hey so uh—” He looks at Soap and jabs his thumb towards where the door would be behind the curtains, “We’re both needed somewhere else. Again. They said they forgot something… again.” 

“Worst fucking timing ever,” Soap grumbles, before clearing his throat and standing up, looking down at you, “Right, I’ll check in on ye later, and help ye wi’ anything ye need me tae, aye? I’ll come wi’ mair chocolate than Gaz did, ‘cause I’m better than him.” 

“Got it,” You smile up at him, making him grin back and pat you on the shoulder Ghost’s hand isn’t occupying, before heading out with Gaz. 

Then, you’re left with Ghost and Price. 

“I should get going too,” Ghost mutters, slowly taking his hand off of your shoulder and gently pushing your head back off of his chest, almost regrettably. 

“M’kay,” You watch as he gets up and hesitates, looking like he’s about to give you a hug, before he decides to instead give you a simple head nod and head out the same way the two other operators did. 

And then, it was just you and Price.

It’s silent for a bit, until Price speaks up.

“You think a lot,” Price comments, finishing up the last staple. 

“Does that surprise you?” 

“A little bit, yeah.” 

You pause for a moment before sighing through your nose, “It’s nothing. Just the same stuff I was thinking about before.” 

“Wanna give me some more detail than that?” 

“Not really, no,” You admit, letting your hand fall into your lap as Price lets go of it, “But I have a feeling you’re gonna want me to tell you.” 

“I do.” 

“It’s just something stupid, like earlier—” 

“That wasn’t stupid, [c/n], that was you hurting.” 

“I— I know. It’s just that this is actually stupid.” 

“Well, tell me what it is, and I’ll be the judge of that.” 

You think about how to phrase it in simple terms for a moment, before finally speaking, “I used to think that the scars sort of… symbolized how I was able to control myself and my emotions, and that made me feel…” You can’t think of any synonyms to make the simple words you want to say sound less childish, so you’re forced to say, “… brave. And strong. I just— I thought it showed that I was good at controlling my emotions and stuff, for some reason. But now I’m questioning all of that.” 

“You’re very brave,” Price reassures you, and God, it sounds like he’s reassuring a child, “And you’re so strong. But this… this isn’t how you show that. This—cutting yourself—doesn’t make you either of those things. It doesn’t show that you’re either of those things. It shows that you need help.” 

“But you just said that I was strong.” 

“I did.” 

“… Aren’t you contradicting yourself?”

“How would I be contradicting myself?” Price asks. 

“You said that me— me… harming myself shows that I need help.” 

“It does,” Price hums, and at your confused expression, he continues, “You needing help doesn’t mean you aren’t strong. Needing help and being strong aren’t connected like that.” 

You open your mouth to argue but you close it, not knowing what to say. Price sees this and smiles knowingly, simply grabbing your hand to squeeze it once before getting up. 

“I’ll check in on you later, okay? I need to get some stuff done, but as soon as I can, I’ll be back to keep you company. Or I’ll send someone else over—whichever you prefer.” 

“M’kay,” You mumble, squeezing Price’s hand back before letting go. “You can do whatever. I don’t mind either one.” 

“Sounds good.” Price pauses for a moment before leaning down and giving you a quick hug, and then beginning to slip past the curtains blocking any outsider's view of the bed you were sat on.

Before he can leave, you quickly say, "Thank you. For the wound-cleaning-thing."

He pauses at the curtain for a second, before smiling and replying, "You're welcome."

for those curious, the bthb card so far:

#cod #hcs #cod hcs #task force 141 #tf141 #platonic task force 141 #platonic taskforce141 #captain john price #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #price #ghost #soap #gaz #mw2 #platonic task force 141 x reader #platonic cod #platonic price #platonic ghost #platonic soap #platonic gaz #hurt/comfort #heavy angst #whump #found family #request #oh my god this took so long #so so sorry #gender neutral reader

[lovebugdrabbles]

Wriothesley Headcanons n$4w vers

notes: i need readers to please go into this believing bro is 35 years of age MINIMUM. or u won't get my VISION. also, my tags are messy bc it's my first time posting my writing on tumblr so just pretend ik how to tag my writing.

warnings: n$4w obvs, 1k words, untitled sentences for the aesthetic, semi-lit, i do use apostrophes, shortened words/abbreviations, i want him in a muzzle so that's mentioned, inappropriate use of handcuffs, i mention he gets rough, i write him as a sweetie pie lowkey tho, tbh it’s a little vanilla, i made a joke abt being ford tough and i feel that warrants a warning, biting, pet name ‘doll’ used, (brief mention) ass slapping , (brief mention) hair pulling, i call him a teddy bear a couple times, (mentioned) slight manhandling, i get a little too into imaging him subby, oops, i also get a bit caught up in soft dom wriothesley,

now playing |◁ II ▷| ‘doin time’ by sublime

methinks he's defff vers/switch but will fully let a partner take over or will take control himself. i don't believe he's picky in this department for a moment. i think he might prefer dom however his dom side has limits.

i bet he's sooo vocal. letting every little grunt and moan out. word vomits too. whatever he’s thinking, his partner will hear it.

big softie. idc. he is a SWEET MAN. 'love should be warm' headass.

so many pet names for his partner. doll, baby, baby-doll, babe, sweetheart, hon/honey. but doll or sweetheart r his faves.

using his title in bed makes him melt.

like i don't think he's malicious in bed. like truly. he seems teddy-bearish to me but i could be looking thru rose colored glasses i must say.

he's def a bit rough tho but i think it'd be in a playful way. there is times he’d get too into the moment and grab on a bit too tight to a thigh or the hair he's running a hand thru or snap his hips a little too hard but he doesn't mean to and will apologize immediately and try to make it up to a partner or even stop mid-session to make sure the other party is alright.

not opposed to using the cuffs if a partner asks. on him or his partner. but he needs enthusiastic consent before or he won't do it.

i do think he’s actually rlly good abt asking for consent to do things tho. but he does it in a way that it feels like part of sex and not just asking for permission ‘you like that?’, ‘you wanna keep going, doll?’ ‘wanna keep taking me?’ but he will make said doll use their words or he won’t keep going. mans is a whore for hearing a partner beg or ask him to do something and he's not above it either.

he seems like the type to wanna hold hands while going at it. like if his hands can reach his partners they are intertwined or at least touching. a pinkie wrapped around the other at the very least. he feels closer and just… better with it

y'all know the shirt that says 'warning this bitch bites' he needs it. will leave marks that last for days and absolutely loves if a partner does it too. but he does feel a bit guilty after especially if it's a hard bite so will pepper kisses on them after.

seeing his bite marks on a partner drives him crazy tho. like, makes him stop in his tracks and wakes up smth in him like a sleeper agent.

kisses thru-out the ordeal soz u can pry this from my cold dead hands. he feels a little guilty if he isn't kissing a hand, a clavicle or any piece of skin he can delicately place a smooch on occasionally when he's not biting ofc.

additionally: my brain has been occasionally FOGGED w thoughts of him in a muzzle. i'm drooling rn actually. i think he'd have a love-hate relationship with it since he wouldn't be able to kiss or bite a partner but he absolutely bends at a partner’s will when they tug on the bars and that's the best part for him

honestly i don't think he'd be comfortable going much harder than what i've mentioned. maybe he'd allow a few slaps on the ass but idk just seems out of character imo. being rough and tumble is for work and the ring and i think he'd keep it that way.

i did say he's a switch/vers so it's time to talk abt both sides of the coin :))))

when he's in a particularly subby mood; he's pathetic. a complete mess of a man.

its so satisfying to see a guy so high in power just groveling to someone.

i bet he looks at a partner w the biggest puppy dog eyes, mumling the softest and breathiest pleases, his hair all tousled and falling over his face. he thinks he's willing to do anything a partner orders him to do atp.

especially interested in peppering kisses on a partner when he's in this mood. nuzzling and sighing as he wraps his arms around his partner and smooches.

this is the time he is very much not opposed to the handcuffs on him.

i think he'd asked to be praised or called a good boy on these nights. i don't make the rules.

this is when he gets vocal. whimpering included too.

but the facade almost immediately drops when aftercare starts.

on the topic of a dom wriothesley; honestly i dont see him getting into the rough dom role but staying more of a soft dom and being very comfortable there.

that is where the word vomit happens, talking a partner through it all when he's in this mood, telling them how good they feel, they're being so good, or to quiet down despite being a bit noisy himself but that's what his biting is for.

moaning into every bite. teeth marks and hickeys covering a partner the next morning leading to that system overload i touched on earlier.

willing to try more positions when he's in this mood fs but he truly believes you cant go wrong w the classics. *cough cough* missionary

this is when he gets real into it and loses himself in the moment like i mentioned earlier. hips bucking and hands reaching to hold onto a partner like they'll escape.

he gets a little bit rougher but its still not in a mean way more in a 'oh yeah? watch this.' type way. pulling a partner closer of man handling them to hold their hips in a better position.

occasionally those pet names get a very adamant 'my' in front of them.

i think this is when his most comfortable area of aftercare comes in but not before one last thing.

he'd like to stay holding a partner for a bit afterwards, letting everyone regain their bearings before hopping into aftercare mode if he was the one in control.

aftercare on top tho. tea, running a bath, helping a partner bathe if they so want, helping a partner get dressed if they're super sore, massages, just all out pampering, especially if he gets a little rough.

he equally enjoys reciving aftercare but is hesitant bc he says he's fine or he's built tough. BUILT FORD TOUGH. sorry idk where that came from and he is but the guy needs to let a partner take care of him sometimes.

the 'love is supposed to be warm' line weighs heavy on me if u cant tell. he's just a teddy bear :(( ugh i'll sob.

la fin !

end notes: tysm for reading the ravings of a madman !! i've had so many random ass thoughts abt him since playing the story quests lmfao and i wanted to get out of my fluffy/horror writing comfort zone so i wrote basically what i think he's like in bed jsjsjs. i may be posting some stuff on boothill from honkai star rail but it'll probably be more rambling just about robotics and prosthesis for now if i post. if i don't post that i'm wrapping up a wriolette fic soon and that will be up here or on my ao3 under the same user !! till next timeee

#wriothesely genshin #genshin imagines #wriothesley headcanon #wriothesley #wriothesley x reader #wriothesley x you #ns4w #n$4w #n$fw #genshin impact #wriothesley headcanons #wriothesley genshin #wriothesley x gn reader #ok funnies hidden in tags #just one night pls ur grace #i am begging #i'll do what ever you want babygirl

[equizona]

⤷ ROMANTIC HEADCANONS

michael afton || five night's at freddy's

gender-neutral reader

masterlist, navigation

i'm having michael brainrot and I can't when write his name right and also the new tumblr update can go choke on some shoelaces

⤷ MICHAEL AFTON

Michael is the type to get jealous easily. He's insecure, has abandonment issues, is making minimum wage and has a fuck ton of trauma attached to him. He knows he isn't the best boyfriend one could ask for, and that you probably deserve so much more, so seeing you with other people he just knows are better than him? It makes him want to crawl into a hole and cry.

Despite how easily he gets jealous, he doesn't show it very often. He refuses to guilt you into staying with him, or isolate you from having relationships outside of him. His father did that with his mother, and he got front row seats to see how well that turned out for them.

Michael doesn't make a lot of money, so he can't get you expensive gifts or take you out on fancy dates. Instead you both often go on walks, have picnics and watch movies at home. He'll save up for occasional amusement park, circus or whatever else you like for dates, though he tries to save those for special occasions.

He probably stays over at your place quite often. He doesn't like to be alone and he doesn't like the idea that he'll wake up tomorrow and get a call that someone broke in and killed you, or something like that. He stays over where you live often for that reason. He doesn't let you go to his place, either, since he knows the animatronics could easily figure out where he lives if they wanted.

He gets a lot of nightmares, too. He doesn't expect you to comfort him or anything, he knows he can be stressful and doesn't want your sleep being put aside for something as stupid as a bad dream. He doesn't really want you to do so, either, since he feels so guilty. The best thing you can do for him is let him cling to you, hug him back and go back to sleep.

He most certainly has an eating disorder. He forgets to eat and drink most of the time, and majority of the time when he doesn't forget he either thinks it's too much work or too expensive or just not worth the effort. However, if you bring him food or a drink, he'll make sure to consume all of it, no matter how nauseous it makes him. If he ends up vomiting, he might have a breakdown from guilt. Especially if you made it yourself.

On a less angst filled note, Michael is really good at making food. If you have ingredients and don't mind him messing around your kitchen, he will make the most heavenly tasting food you can imagine. Since he doesn't work during the day, he'll make you breakfast when he gets back, alongside lunch for whatever you have to do during the day.

He'll also make you dinner, with him making you m meals a good chunk of the time, it makes there be at least one less thing to stress you out. At least, that's what he's hoping for. If you give him the money, he'll go grocery shopping for you as well! He has all your preferred brands memorized too, so not to worry about that.

His parents didn't teach him very basics things about hygiene or cleaning, so while he isn't really a messy person, he doesn't know how most things work and decides to just leave things where they are. If you teach him to do the dishes, use the laundry machine or a vacuum, and assure him you won't get mad if he does something wrong, he might try doing some of your chores for you.

If he does it right and it makes you happy when he does it, he'll keep doing it. It makes him pretty happy, actually, to be doing it. He remembers his classmates whining about having to do chores with their mothers while he spent most of his day worried he's get yelled at for moving a glass over to the sink from the counter. Most might think it's boring to clean, but he thinks it's nice. And if it makes you happy, and makes your life easier? He's pretty ecstatic to be doing the dishes.

Michael naturally runs really hot. He could be your personal heater easily, and he's very comfortable and warm to hug. Despite how warm he is, he gets cold super easily, so he's always dressing warm and laying under blankets, which just makes Jim run even warmer.

He has a soft spot for children. If he builds a more stable life and routine with you, he'll probably try doing babysitting during the day for some extra money. He's actually really good with kids, too, even if he might seem sort of intimidating at first. He's also able to make all of them eat their vegetables and fruits, so parents adore him as well.

He is weak for matching things. Matching outfits? Keychains? Bracelets? Phone cases? Mugs? Blankets? Shoes? He doesn't care, he just loves the idea of matching with you.

He likes doing arts & crafts. Sometimes the kids make him do it with them too, and he's pretty good! He occasionally gives you those handmade bead bracelets. If he sees you wearing them he'll probably cling to you for the rest of the day.

Michael is actually like, really good at singing. He'll sing when he cleans, when he's doing his night shifts, when he's cooking or baking. If you like his singing, he might sing you a lullaby to help you sleep. If you sing with him he will be the happiest person on earth.

He likes a lot of things that are less traditionally masculine and more traditionally feminine, like flowers and soft things. (Blankets, stuffed animals, etc.) If you get him flowers, he'll press or dry them so he can keep them for much longer.

He's not much of a fan of animals, and animals don't like him that much. The exception being foxes, since he thinks they're very pretty. If you have any pets, he'd be happy to help you takecare of them, but he won't have a very deep emotional connection with the animal.

#five night's at freddy's x reader #five night's at freddy's #fnaf #fnaf x reader #michael afton #michael afton x reader #micheal afton #micheal afton x reader #mike afton #mike afton x reader #mike schimdt #mike schmidt x reader

[save-the-villainous-cat]

Hi hello, your writing is great!! I was wondering whether you would like to continue the piece with sleep-deprived villain who lost their sidekick and hero coming to them? Since the first part ended how it did (the heavenly spicy prospect of hero running a bath for both of them), I would be more than happy to read what's next!! Possible heavy spice on the horizon is always well-greeted. Always.

So a few questions to consider: During villain's and hero's (spicy) makeout session, would villain humbly admit their feelings and their hallucinations about hero pinning them down and ravaging them? Would hero be worried that villain might be in the wrong state of mind for sex/making out/both/whatever you choose? Would hero have self-conscious doubts whether villain wants them or whether they just use the opportunity to work off the stress and grief using hero? Would both of them, in all this tangled chaos, truly and honestly confess to each other in between the kisses?

Choose whatever you want to write, I would be grateful for everything you post! I'm going to horny jail willingly, have a beautiful beautiful day

pt. 1

All the villain could do was watch as the hero actually did take off their clothes in the bathroom. It wasn’t like their hallucination. The hero wasn’t drenched in blood, ready to take the villain as they pleased. They didn’t push them into couches or walls to kiss them until their lips were numb.

“Two hours of sleep is really dangerous,” the hero said. They were working on their pants already, trying to slip out of them. The villain’s eyes burnt from the lack of sleep and the built up steam in the bathroom, however, their eyes widened and their pulse skyrocketed as they saw the hero’s body uncovered.

A few days ago, their hallucinations had gotten worse. More violent, more realistic. Often, they couldn’t tell reality and dream apart. Dreaming was torture and staying awake wasn’t pleasant either.

“I know.”

“Come here.” The hero was fully naked now and the villain tried their best to stare at the bathroom tiles instead of them. Having an attractive nemesis had always been a weakness of the villain. Eventually, the hero offered them their hand and the villain replied with a brave step towards them. “I’ll help you, okay?”

The villain’s face was burning but they didn’t have the energy to reply. They didn’t know how to flirt nor how to tease and yet, they chased every little touch the hero was willing to give them. With the hero’s hands on them they felt okay for a second. As they went over their body to peel off the layers of clothes, the villain tried their best to be of help but their coordination was truly horrible. No wonder they had lost their weapon earlier. It was a miracle that they were still alive.

Before the villain knew it, they were naked too. With embarrassment, they noticed that the hero’s hand was on their lower stomach. Resting fingertips against their skin. And the villain already felt guilty for allowing themselves to enjoy life a little.

“Alright, you first,” the hero said. They took the villain’s handed and guided them to the bathtub. On their lower back, the villain could feel the hero’s other hand, steadying them, securing them.

Pain burnt into them as their feet sank into the water. It was scorching hot, nearly unbearable but the villain welcomed the pain like an old friend, letting it happen, like everything else in their life.

They sat down slowly, trying to get used to the temperature and the hero followed promptly, sitting down on their hips. Overwhelmed by the sudden proximity, the villain tried to calm down their poor heart. It hadn’t worked this hard in a few weeks and having the hero this close to them was just like their hallucination, except that it was a little too real and intimate.

“Do you always use boiling water when you bathe?” the villain asked. The hero’s hands were on their chest and the villain was sure they could feel their heart beating.

“Straight from hell, yes.” It was a nice distraction. They were a nice distraction. But the villain feared this would make everything worse. The villain would keep yearning for them, getting addicted to them. “Now, relax, okay?”

“I’m trying,” the villain admitted but their eyes dropped to the hero’s lips. When the hero leaned forward, the villain expected their lips to meet but instead, the hero kissed their cheek softly. Immediately, the villain could tell that this was not a hallucination.

“I know. But this has gone too far. Imagining that I break into your home and devour you isn’t normal,” the hero said but the villain couldn’t hold themselves back anymore. They’d been through hell for the last weeks, months even. They had considered terrible methods and measures. Losing themselves in all of this was easy but the hero had swooped in — like the hero they were — and saved them.

They grabbed the hero’s jaw and kissed them softly.

It was quite clear that they were out of practice. Their tongue was too nervous, too quick, their mouth was not open enough and their hand was awkwardly resting on the hero’s back. Although the hero kissed back, the villain knew that they hesitated. After a few seconds of pure heaven, they pulled away and swallowed.

Their heart was still desperately pumping blood through their system and they sweated hard enough that even the hero could tell.

“I’m sorry,” they said, didn’t even dare to be louder than a whisper.

“I know how hard it is,” the hero replied. They were still so close. “Losing someone isn’t easy.”

“I’m okay.”

“You imagined us having sex together because you didn’t get enough sleep.” The hero combed through the villain’s messy hair with their fingers. “Why did you imagine me?”

“I don’t know,” the villain said. For a few seconds, the villain just stared at them.

Exhausted, sad, hopeless. They were lost and the hero seemed like the only way, like the only lighthouse in this sea.

The villain couldn’t help but go in for another kiss and the hero replied, guiding their enemy’s hands as much as their tongue. Every now and then, the villain had to sigh softly. This was so much better than the hallucinations, it was so much better than what they had experienced before. Slowly, the villain’s hands moved down to the hero’s ass and squeezed. Adorable wasn’t even close to describing the sounds the hero made as response. With each second, the villain wanted more. They started kissing the hero’s throat, started to bite a little and get more daring.

But right when they were getting ready, the hero pulled away.

“I should’ve come sooner, fuck, this is really bad,” they mumbled. Fidgeting hands went over the villain’s chest as the hero’s lips hovered over theirs. The villain pressed a quick kiss to them, not really understanding what they meant.

“I like this.”

“You’re exhausted. You probably don’t even want this. Fuck, what was I thinking…?” Suddenly, the hero moved and the villain panicked.

“Please don’t go,” they said. Their hands went to the hero’s hips, holding onto them. Wasn’t it foolish? To expect that they were worth it? That they deserved kindness? Affection even? “I don’t want to be alone.”

“I don’t want to use you.”

“I don’t want to use you,” the villain said. “We don’t need to have sex…I would just like to know that someone is there.”

The hero’s muscles relaxed and they nodded gently. Admittedly, the villain wanted more than they had suggested. They wanted to lose themselves in desire not only because it eased the pain but also because they yearned for the hero. Their saviour. Their crush. Someone who was putting up with their shit over and over again.

“We can talk about it, you know,” the hero said. “I know it hurts but if we talk about it, maybe you can start to heal healthily.”

“I can’t talk about it,” the villain said quickly. “Please, I really can’t.”

“That’s okay.” Once again the hero combed through their hair. “I’ll be here in case you change your mind.”

Indeed, the hero stayed for two weeks and they held the villain when they told them everything. When they broke down and dropped their guard, when they started crying and let go of everything they had been hiding.

#writing snippet #heroxvillain snippet #heroxvillain prompt #heroes and villains #hero #villain #hero x villain #heroxvillain #an answer for an ask #request #cont'd #suggestive

[unknownfacelessfanfictions]

"May I have this dance?"

Pairing: TOS Spock x Reader Fandom: Star Trek: The Original Series Words: 1.3K Summary: Sometimes all you need to do is talk and dance. A/N: I feel like this one is a bit OOC but I don't really care right now.

Not my gif!!!

WINTER WRITING PLAN

Sighing, you close the door behind you and kick your shoes off your feet. Note to self, next time just wear comfortable trainers. No one would care anyway. In a way, you were grateful to your husband for dragging you home early from the New Year's party, because you weren't sure how much longer you could have stood in those shoes.

On the other hand, you felt melancholy rising inside you as your eyes fell on the clock, which told you that it was only twenty minutes until midnight. You had been looking forward to the party for weeks, where the whole crew would meet (the five-year mission was over and the Enterprise had been in dock for repairs for two months) and the sight of familiar faces had put you in high spirits. However, Spock had taken you aside at a little after eleven and asked you to leave.

He was not too keen on large gatherings of people, even if he knew them well, and the loud music made his ears shrill. You had known that this would happen, but you had still hoped that you would at least manage to stay until midnight. Nevertheless, you did not grumble, but said goodbye to your friends and then, led by Spock, started on your way home. After all, he had only come and practically suffered for your sake and for your love, so you could not refuse to let him go if it became too much for him.

"You're disappointed." His voice made you look up. As so often, it was far from emotional and with his arms folded behind his back, he looked as if he were reporting to the captain on the Enterprise. "No, I'm not."

"But you're not happy about us leaving either." You sighed and walked over to him until you were standing in front of him. "I want to be honest with you Spock. No, I'm not happy. However, I'm not angry or disappointed either. I knew we would leave early because you are not comfortable with such festivities. However, I had hoped that we could stay there at least until midnight to celebrate the New Year with the others."

You smiled and gently felt for his hand, which he allowed. "However, I don't want you to feel guilty either." "I am Vulcan, I do not feel emotions." You just shook your head with a smile. "Of course not." You tried to turn around, however Spock continued to hold your hand. "If you had said so, we could have stayed."

"No," you shook your head. "You were uncomfortable and no celebration or party in the world is worth making you feel bad." "What a sentimental way of thinking." Smirking, you broke away from him to go to the bathroom and take off your jewellery. "Don't act like you wouldn't have done the same in my place, Spock."

"Maybe." He sounded thoughtful, lost in thought and you didn't get a longer answer, however, this was nothing new for you and you didn't think anything of it, so engrossed were you in removing the jewellery as well as make-up and the tightly fitting hairstyle. You only looked up when soft classical music flew into the bathroom. French, eighteenth century, if you were not mistaken. Confused, you drew your eyebrows together. "Spock?" No answer.

With another sigh, you set aside the rag of make-up remover you had just been about to use and left the bathroom. "Spock, what are ... you doing?" The last word almost stuck in your throat as you stepped into the living room. In no time at all, Spock had moved the furniture aside to create an open area in the middle of the room and had gathered pretty much all the candles in your flat together, lit them and spread them around the room so that they provided the only source of light.

He himself stood, still dressed in a festive black Vulcan tunic in the centre of the room, his face bathed in gold from the candlelight, his arms folded behind his back. "Spock, what...?" You were at a loss for words and Spock merely raised an eyebrow before taking elegant and lithe long strides towards you, coming to a stop in front of you. He looked down at you and regarded you for a few moments.

"I realised again tonight how much you have to give up to be married to me. I am aware that I am not always easy and that in many ways I do not conform to proper human behaviour. I am also aware of the fact that many persons around you have not spoken well of this marriage, but you have not allowed yourself to be influenced." He lowered his gaze slightly and you thought you could see a greenish glow on his cheeks.

"I have not fulfilled my duties as a husband well and no," he interrupted your protests before they could begin, " I will take no criticism in that regard. You have made many sacrifices and I have seldom appreciated them. For that I would like, humbly, to ask your forgiveness. I am also aware that it is not nearly equal to what you are doing to conform to my customs, however, I hope to make a start with this." Without hesitation, he slowly brought out his free hand, not covered in gloves, and held it out to you, his gaze now locked razor-sharp on yours.

"May I have this dance?"

For a few moments you were speechless. You had told Spock at the beginning of your relationship how much you loved dancing, but Spock had never shown any particular affection for it, so at some point you had stopped asking. However, you had always enjoyed it. Always.

It had been something private between you, almost intimate, since Spock, as you might expect, had not enjoyed indulging in such emotional things in front of other people, which was why you had danced supremely in the privacy of your quarters. That he now asked for it, willingly, and even seemed pleased, warmed your heart and almost caused you to turn into a squealing teenager.

"I would be honoured."

Carefully you took his hand and instantly you were flooded with feelings of affection and pure love that almost brought tears to your eyes. Gently, Spock led you onto the self-made dance floor and pulled you so close to him that you thought you could feel his heartbeat. Slowly Spock began to lead you, spinning you in circles and being, as in everything, elegant, smooth and just perfect.

In time, you relaxed enough to rest your head on his shoulder and sigh contentedly as his scent hit your nose and he pulled you even closer. "Thank you," you whispered after a few minutes of silent dancing and Spock just hummed softly in denial. "There is nothing to thank me for, Adun'a."

Before you could answer, bangs sounded outside and a glance at the clock confirmed your suspicions. "It's midnight," Spock spoke your thought as you broke away from him and walked over to the window on your balcony. Spock stepped behind you, "Do you want to go out?" "No," you shook your head. "Those fireworks are loud and I don't want your ears to hurt." "I already told you, it's not just you who has to forego-"

You interrupted him. "However, I would like to do something different. It's kind of a tradition, even if we're a few seconds late." "Very well." You laughed softly. "You don't even know what it's about Spock." "I trust you."

For whatever reason, these words gave you the rest. Gently you put your hands on his cheeks, pulled him down to you and pressed your lips to his. It wasn't a very long kiss, but it conveyed all the emotions you wanted to show and gave Spock enough time to pull you a little closer to him. "I think I might take a liking to that tradition," Spock reflected and you could see the amusement in his eyes and had to laugh.

"Happy New Year, Spock." "I wish you the same, Adun'a."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

@bigblissandlove1

@akamitrani

#star trek #star trek x reader #star trek the original series #star trek tos #tos #spock #commander spock #commander spock tos #spock tos #spock x reader #commander spock x reader #spock x reader tos #commander spock x reader tos

[heeseung-min]

Can you write about Yandere Jungwon being rejected?

[21:29]

"I'm sorry but I like someone else."

"What?"

Jungwon felt his heart crushed so bad after heard what you said to his confession. Had he read everything wrong? Didn't you like him and was too shy to admit it?

"What do you mean, Y/n? You like me right? You are just too shy to admit it. I've seen you stared at me in the class."

You were flabbergasted at what he said. It's not really wrong but it's not 100 percent right either. True, you were staring in the class but not to him. You were looking at the person beside him, Sangwon. Jungwon read the situation wrong and now you felt guilty because of it.

"Jungwon, I'm really sorry but it's completely wrong. I was staring at Sangwon not you. I'm really sorry if you think it was for you."

Not only Jungwon felt embarrassed but he also felt angry and mad towards his cousin, Sangwon. Why does he got your attention? Why would you want to be with his cousin when you could be with him. Thankfully, the class was empty so they can't see what is happening between both of you.

You wanted to say more but Jungwon already went to his seat without even looking at you. You too went back to your seat when some of the classmates started to arrive. You saw Sangwon came and asked Jungwon why his face was gloomy but Jungwon just shook his head and do revision instead.

-----

-----

You were having a date together with Sangwon. Few days after Jungwon confessed to you, Sangwon came and asked you out in front of the class. Based on his expression, seems like he didn't know that Jungwon likes you. Probably, Jungwon never tells his cousin about it.

"Are you okay, Y/n?"

"Hmm?"

Sangwon stared at you curiously. He was excited to know that you like him and asked you for a date but now you seems like not excited about it anymore.

"Ah yeah yeah I'm okay. I'm just a bit nervous."

The date went smooth but you still feel nervous whenever you looked to Sangwon's eyes. His face is similar to Jungwon so it kept reminding you to what happened few days ago.

Sangwon dropped you off after the date's over. You thanked him before went inside your house. However, when you came into the house, the strong smell of blood went through your nose.

You felt hopeless when you found out your dad was lying down dead with his stomach got stabbed. The strong smell from blood made you wanted to puke. You were taken back when you saw Jungwon was sitting beside him.

"Jung..won..."

Jungwon turned to you while his finger still fiddling with the knife that you believed he used to stab your father. The sight of him smiling with blood stain on his face made him looked so creepy.

"Oh y/n, you are home. How was the date with Sangwon? Was it exciting?"

Jungwon asked but you couldn't say anything when he was looking so creepy. He stood up and started to walk closer to you.

"I can't stand you with someone else, Y/n."

"You are crazy."

You stepped back to get away from him but Jungwon was quick to hold your shoulder. At this point, you can only cried and begged for him to let you go.

"Jungwon, this is wrong."

"If you didn't reject me maybe this will not happen, Y/n."

"Are you hearing yourself?! You killed my father just because I rejected you?!!"

"And I will do it again to others. Until you don't have anyone anymore."

Jungwon said as he caressed your hair like he was assuring you but instead he was threatening.

"I will make you depend to me only, Y/n."

You don't know where you got the courage but your hand moved by yourself and instantly punching him on the face. The impact is strong and made Jungwon lose his focus. You quickly ran away from him and throw things to slow his down.

"You think you can escape me?"

"Shut the fuck up, Jungwon."

"It sounds sweet when my name coming out from your mouth."

You ran to the kitchen and picked up a knife and shoved it to Jungwon. He smirked at the sight of you.

"You come close, I will kill you."

"Really, Y/n? Can you do that actually?"

Jungwon took one step closer and you were freaking out. The knife you shoved towards him didn't scare him at all.

"STAY THE FUCK AWAY OR I WILL- AHH"

Jungwon watched you fell down to the floor and passed out. He catched the knife so it won't fall and hurt your face. There was a little blood on your temple as a sign from being hit just now. He stared up at the person.

"That was good, Sangwon."

"You should not question the home run hitter, Jungwon."

Oh, how sick both of they are.

You thought you get with a good guy but no guys actually are good to be with.

_____________

_____________

Taglist: @stacey-stonem @huggyuvita @duolingofanaccount @obsessed1with1straykids @eeunoia @rowretro @soireegurl

I did this while I was in hiatus so it's a bit boring but I hope you guys still enjoy it 😚😚😚

#yandere kpop #yandere enhypen #kpop yandere #enha x reader #lee heeseung #park jongseong #park sunghoon #jake sim #kim sunoo #nishimura riki #yang jungwon #yandere drabble #yandere jungwon #enha yandere #enhypen au #enhypen jungwon #jungwon enhypen #enhypen scenarios #enha scenarios #enha imagines

[fuxuannie]

↳ pairing(s) : (seperate) omen, chamber & jett x gender neutral reader

↳ synopsis : sleep was almost impossible of the three, but with you, it was almost effortless.

↳ authors note : happy pride month!!! :: i think to stop writers block i have to actually start writing of different fandoms,, sorry hsr fans, hello valorant ones (pls exist)

OMEN didn't really.. need to sleep. He doesn't need most things that humans did actually, and preferred to spend his hours of the night knitting or working on a few plants.

So he didn't really know how to feel about 'falling asleep together', an idea suggested to you after a few months of dating and wanted to be cuddling your partner before falling alseep.

You can imagine how awkward he is when he first gets into bed, how he's unsure on how to put his arms around you in a way that you feel comfortable or even the sensation of being so close to someone for 8 hours. You didn't really mind, just letting him experiment and try to figure out what felt right.

However after a few minutes, oddly enough and almost like a cat, Omen warms up to this feeling. If he could smile, he definitely would be. He's content with the position you both settled with, your back against his chest with his arms and legs over you. You could say he's the big spoon and you're the little spoon, not that it was really surprising considering the shadow man was quite tall.

"You okay?" You'll whisper, looking up at him and watched as he nodded back slightly. "I.. like this feeling." He replies, his voice soft despite the usual hoarse coming from it. "I'm glad." A smile is evident on your expression and that makes Omen happy, his grip around you tightening slightly as you two finally drift off.

JETT's lack of sleep usually came from how often she wanted to train. Of course, having a best friend like Phoenix always meant wanting to one-up the other person in every single way, and Jett was making sure she remained on top no matter what.

When you expressed your concern for her lack of rest, she briefly brushed it off and said she could handle it because of how often she went days without sleeping.

That didn't make you feel any better.

So here she is, begrudingly laying in bed with you by her side. Jett has her back turned to you, hugging herself as she grumbled every now and then.

"You know, neither of us are going to fall asleep if you act like that."

She can't see you, but the sound of bedsheets shuffling are enough of an indication that you turned to face her. "I know.. that you're not the best with people.. but you can try for me, can't you..?" You asked quietly, almost a whisper, you loved Jett with all your heart and you couldn't dream of ever forcing her to do something ahe didn't want. And so you just waited for an answer.

To your surprise and in a swift move, Jett turns around to wrap her arms around you and pull you close to her. Head resting into the crook of your neck as you're left to be stunned for a few seconds, before beginning to chuckle softly and return the gesture with your own arms engulfing her into a cuddling position.

You hold back a few giggles at how quickly she fell asleep in your embrace.

CHAMBER was a man who prioritized his own interests above everyone elses, so for many years he had grown used to sleepless nights either for weapon making or business reasons, whichever one he felt like prioritizing first. (Which was always the weapon making.)

At first, he found it cute whenever you tried to stay up with him until he'd grow tired and just go to bed but it didn't last long whenever he saw you tired around HQ and felt guilty for your exhaustion.

The man loves you far too much, so the day after he wanted to try and finally sleep early just so he wouldn't have to see you barely make it through work with 3 hours of rest.

However, with his body so used to staying awake, the French Marksman struggled in finding an ounce of a tired feeling in his body. His mind racing with thoughts of anything else he could be doing at the moment, until he feels you bury yourself closer into him to feel his warmth.

Maybe he was madly inlove, maybe the several hours of sleep he missed was getting to him, but it was like that a single touch from you had him in a sleepy trance.

You're already asleep, just your body naturally wanting to be closer to the man you loved most, but Chamber plants soft and quick kisses on your nose, cheek and lips while whispering a 'Thank you.' after each one. Eventually falling asleep in the comfort of your warmth.

#˚₊· ͟͟͞➳❥ bailu's candy stash #valorant x reader #valorant x you #valo x reader #jett x reader #omen x reader #chamber x reader

[ao3commentoftheday]

How do you build confidence as a writer and start to feel okay with your own writing, as well as the stats your writing gets? I’m not a new writer, and I don’t think I’m a bad one, but I am really bad with capturing the fandom zeitgeist, and a lot of the times when I try to write characters based on how they acted in canon, I get accused of bashing them. I don’t care about rude or unflattering comments on my fics, but definitely fewer people kudos my fics when I try to write the characters how I see them instead of fanon characterization, and it sucks to know I don’t make fic recs lists or even get casually recced for anything I’ve ever written on Discord because of my writing choices. More and more often, I feel like I shouldn’t write because I know my fics will never get the praise and attention BNFs do, and then I feel guilty for not writing. But I also know that if I do, I’ll just end up with more fic readers won’t want, and let’s face it: it’s not like anyone will choose my fics when they could have a BNF’s. Is there any way for me to accept that no one will ever love my fic as much as they love fics by BNFs, and to stay motivated in spite of feeling like my writing is just permanently unwanted? Or would giving up at this point be kinder to myself if I can’t stop comparing? (I know frequent advice in these cases is to focus on building friendships and finding a community, but IME, people in fandom either aren’t interested, don’t reach out, or already have had their friends circle since the LJ days and don’t want to bother with you. Any advice on where I’d even begin?)

*hugs* Oof. That's a rough spot to be in, anon, and you're definitely not alone 💗

I think in this situation, you need to figure out what exactly it is that you're looking for. You start by asking how to get confidence as a writer, but I think you already have it. You know what stories you want to tell, and you write those stories the way you want to tell them. To me, that means that you have plenty of confidence. You have a clear vision and goal, and you write with them in mind.

Next, you mention stats but I don't think that's the issue either - except inasmuch as they can be a sign of other things. Stats on their own, however, are just numbers attached to your works. If seeing those numbers on your works and the works of others causes you distress or annoyance or another emotion you'd rather not experience, then I strongly recommend using a site skin to hide them.

The bulk of your message is about what it sounds like the issue really is: attention, praise, and yes community. You want people to get excited with about your works. You want people to talk to other people about the things that you write. You want to feel loved, or at least appreciated. You're not alone in wanting those things either.

I think the writing side of things is going well - at least from the information you've provided here. The part that isn't working for you is the posting. Putting your work up on AO3 is not only dissatisfying, it's actively discouraging you from writing more.

I'm going to make my own suggestion and then I'll leave the floor open for the blog to add in their thoughts: Have you considered role playing instead of fic writing? For the last several years, I've tucked my writing away in a discord server with my fandom bestie. We've written thousands of stories and millions of words, almost none of which have ever been posted to AO3. We don't feel the need for comments and kudos because we're both having so much fun collaborating with our blorbos and each other, writing things to make the other one happy (or sad or laugh etc), that what other people might think about it doesn't actually matter.

She also RPs in various servers with friends and strangers alike, but I haven't enjoyed that as much as just shooting replies back and forth with her. Your mileage may vary, as they say, but that might be one way to get the feedback and excitement that you're craving - whether it's in a big server with lots going on or just a little corner of 2 or 3 people.

What do the rest of you think?

#asks and answers

[freyito]

I'm in that 'damn I'm too feminine guess I'll die' phase right now, pretty sure it happens monthly, so, I was wondering if I could ask for Liu Kang with a ftm reader who's normally happy just crashing down one day, specifically because they think they're too feminine for people to perceive them as a guy?

Thank you for writing such amazing stuff btw!! :D

anon, you saved me. you SAVED ME. ive been in such a mood and ive been wanting to write something comforting!!! but i havent been able to think of a prompt and i didnt really have the energy for anything in my inbox. and then you BLESSED me with this absolute banger of a request oh em gee.

and don't worry, you're not alone either anon, im also lowkey goin thru it. twinsies!!!! letting you know, from a very feminine (androgynous, but apparently i seem fem aligned) trans man, its okay to feel this. there really is no definition to masculinity and you are a man regardless of what people say!

added some bonus characters for myyyy self indulgence if you don't mind

cw: male reader, ftm, just fluff, implied romantic relationships w/ all, proofread

ʟɪᴜ ᴋᴀɴɢ (ᴀɴᴅ ʙᴏɴᴜꜱᴇꜱ) + ɪɴꜱᴇᴄᴜʀᴇ ꜰᴛᴍ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

-Liu Kang...

is almost disheartened at the sudden change of behavior. Just the other day you had been so vibrant, bringing color, a certain tone to the world. Something even he didn't think was possible. When he had met you, he was smitten. With your positivity, your optimism, and above all else, you.

To find you, quiet, sullen, hiding from him, it was heartbreaking. The absence of your voice and your light was something that very clearly rubbed off on him.

Finding out you've broken because you do not feel yourself, because you cannot look in the mirror without seeing the man you aren't, it fills him with sorrow. Because, he sees you as a man, regardless. He always will, and it will never change.

To be honest, he's quite unsure how to comfort you. He's by your side, reassuring you that you are masculine, that he and many, many others see you as a man. And he wants to make sure you see that. The best he can be is sympathetic, it hurts that he can't necessarily understand you on a deeper level.

However, that does not change how he sees you. Nothing defines masculinity, nor what makes a man in his eyes. Even as a god, he believes there really is no definition to anything, aside from what you make it.

He lets you know exactly that. There is nothing in the world that could change his mind, no insecurity- no matter how big- you find will ever change his view of you.

-Kuai Liang...

originally thinks you are playing a game with him. So suddenly, you disappear. He looks for his sunshine around every corner, every closet, any possible hiding place he can think of. You are the light of his life, your shining brilliance cannot be matched.

So when he finds you sulking in your room, hiding, back turned from him and the world, suddenly concern eclipses his light. The pit in his stomach forms, ever expanding with worry.

Hiding because you do not see yourself as... yourself. You can almost hear his heart shatter. You are afraid other people see this, too. That you are not a man in anyone's eyes.

At first, he believes someone had put this through your head. Someone had told you this, had made you feel this way. And the fire burned within him, something telling him to find whoever had said this to you. Yet, when he finds out it is simply you perceiving everyone else's looks towards you like this, his mind slows down.

Kuai insists you are wrong. His usually calm temper replaced by him adamantly denying that you are seen as anything else. You are a man, regardless. He has never seen you as anything else but one.

Knowing you put yourself down this this claws at him, he partially feels guilty. But he puts in the effort to make you feel exactly like who you are, to bring your radiant light back into his life again.

-Johnny Cage...

can't stand loosing your positivity, your light is an ever-burning warmth that keeps him rather grounded, despite his wit and charm.

He's plunged into sudden darkness when he wakes up to you with your back turned to him, pushed as far away as possible at the edge of the bed. In an instant, it feels like his whole world is ripped away from him.

But, he's determined to make sure it isn't, and he begins with the questioning almost immediately. This was the quickest you've ever seen him wake up. And to find the reason you've pushed yourself away from him is because you don't see yourself how he sees you, and that you are ashamed- no, no. He can't have that.

Johnny cuts you off immediately, showering you and pampering you with affirmations. He does not allow you any room to let your mind twist your identity. He makes it known that you are a man, he sees you as a man, everyone sees you as a man.

He's serious, too. All traces of the signature Cage tone are wiped out, his voice soft, yet heavy. He doesn't let you, not even for a second, get back into your dysphoric mind-space. He tries, real hard, anyways.

Johnny only lets up when he finally sees even a potential smile on your face. And once he's so sure he's affirmed your gender,- and you've affirmed yourself- he's back to his over-the-top persona, bathed in wit and perhaps even a little bit of pride.

© freyito, 2023 | masterlist | queue | kofi DO NOT REPOST AS YOUR OWN OR USE FOR AI/AI CHATBOTS.

#*ੈ✩ freyito #mortal kombat x reader #mortal kombat 1 x reader #mortal kombat x male reader #mortal kombat 1 x male reader #liu kang x reader #liu kang x male reader #kuai liang x reader #kuai liang x male reader #scorpion x reader #scorpion x male reader #johnny cage x reader #johnny cage x male reader #mk1 x reader #mk1 x male reader #mk x reader #mk x male reader

[flowerandblood]

I'm back

And I'm back with my oneshot with Michael Gavey. He fucking came back from the dead. Some can call it resurrection.

I needed these 24 hours just for myself to think about why I was writing at all and why I was doing it.

To talk about it with my husband who, as always, knowing me inside out, said that I didn't deserve to have my work and commitment here wasted by people who don't have the courage to write to me under their own nickname.

Just to be clear - it doesn't matter when or if any of you would read my oneshot. When, why or if you will do it is neither something to feel guilty nor proud of, like reading or not anything I wrote or will write.

I remind you that's my space, not yours. Anon asks stays off, because I know who you really are.

Cowards.

From now on, I will be much stricter about what other people "opinion" should and should not be.

I will block anyone, anons, writers or readers, who cannot watch their words - even if it's on your blogs, in your asks, comments, reblogs or statements - I don't want to see any ironic, hurtful bullshit on my wall anymore.

I will block them, but I will never nag them. I just don't need them in my life, in my space. Learn from me, anon haters. I hope me coming back is your stick in the ass and not in the pleasurable way.

I don't care if you think I'm a sweet and innocent author with no flaws - I'm not. I've never been. I don't care about maintaining this image either.

Yes, I can't stand anons who send me and other authors baseless criticism. They were and will remain my enemies. I will never be nice to them, because by hiding they lose the last of my respect.

However, I have never been and will never be unpleasant to people who ask me thoughtful questions with the respect that one person can and should expect from another. Usually it's not about the question itself, but about how it was asked.

Writing anonymously to others that you wish their pets to die, that it's good that they lost their child, or to me that I don't really love my husband and I'm cheating on him because I write fanfics is not the smartest idea.

You are just sad, jealous idiots.

Now.

A few of people here are trying to keep this sticky tape glued fandom from falling apart and I sincerely admire them: @ewanmitchellcrumbs @targaryenrealnessdarling @oneeyedvisenya @theoneeyedprince @valeskafics @black-dread

This fandom doesn't deserve you, but there you are.

+ I wanted to say 'thank you' to all of the writers who just reached me to say that they are sorry, to say that I have a right to write whatever I want. Do what I want without being judged.

Finally, I cannot help but mention the wave of anonymous and non-anonymous messages from my fans, to which I apologize for not responding. I've read them all.

Many of you came out of the shadows and wrote to me for the first time, showing me how much my stories mean to you. Thank you for all the memes, photos, drawings and words of comfort, very long and very short messages.

If it weren't for you, if it weren't for my husband who told me that I needed a break - not to destroy everything I created, I would have deleted this account a few days ago. He said that I should care more about my own mental comfort, which I intend to do.

I deleted my Discord account to withdraw from the fandom a bit and to put what happened behind me. I don't have good emotions right now that I could share with you in these groups, which you deserve. I don't want to be a ghost account there.

If you want to talk to me or explain something, you can reach me in private messages.

So. Karawana jedzie dalej, as we say in Poland. Those who want to be tagged, please let me know here or privately.

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#more info later #a couple words of summary below #michael gavey

[heartssatoru]

How about JJK men(Gojo, Megumi, Nanaimo,Itadori and Toge if possible) how they react to a fight with their s/o!

Of course! Toge is also one I can do! Thank you for the request <3

Characters: Gojo, megumi, nanami, itadori, sukuna, and toge!

warnings: none, but angst to fluff, kinda suggestive on sukunas part. Also not proofread!

On request, don't forget to ask if you want fluff, angst, or even smut! I prefer hcs but it's fine if you don't want that, just don't expect much from me on there😭

Also, I noticed that you had put nanami, i don't know at all how to write for him! I'm really sorry, I've rewatched jujutsu kaisen multiple times and I still don't really know😭 please forgive me on that part🙏

Gojo:

Tells you you're being dramatic, which only causes the argument to get worse.

Thinks that he's the one being mature in this argument

He really just wants for this to end, but he doesn't realize he's pissing you off even more

Or maybe he does

Tries to end it, because he hates arguing with you. He always feels guilty

Even if he started it

As soon as you start giving him silent treatment he feels bad

But tries to ignore it because he thinks you'll probably stop

He thinks your gonna end up coming to him

If you don't then he'll whine out apologies, especially if it means no more cuddles for him

If you ignore him more than he's sigh dramatically

Either scoops you up in his arms, or buys you stuff then scoops you up in arms

There's really no way to avoid him😭

Megumi:

Why are you mad at him? Let alone arguing??

kinda just stares at you and stays silent, cause he doesn't know what to say

Also he doesn't want the argument to get worse. So he just stands there

Probably doesn't really care, because he thinks that you'll calm down

If you don't however

He doesn't really know what to do. And is clueless because he doesn't want to upset you even more

Apologizes once and then tries to act like as if nothing happened

You'll let him off this time

Itadori

Says little mean things back, just not really rude. Because he doesn't wanna hurt your feelings

Goofs around especially if he doesn't know why your arguing.

But If your dead serious he'll stop, he doesn't really like seeing you angry

It scares him a bit

Sukuna will probably insult you too but ignore him please 😭

Genuinely will apologize and try to make up because he hates being yelled at

Probably had tears in his eyes when you were yelling

Sukuna:

Laughs at you, whats your problem this time??

Oh what, is it because he's insulting you? Hes just like that

Was it his jokes? Their just jokes, for the time being so why so upset??

Even though he finds it amusing, calm down. Its kinda annoying to him

don't really expect much from this man, most likely puts you in your place before anything else happens

Also because he refuses to take disrespect from a human. Thats disgusting

And if you have the guts to try and argue with him, so be it!

He wont kill you don't worry. Thats far from his mind, but will make you apologize one way or another

Toge:

Feels bad and doesn't know what to do, especially because he can't talk

You guys probably argue on messages or something😭😭

Whatever the reason is he trys to explain

His hands all sweaty and him texting all fast. Tries to get you to feel better on text

Probably spams you with apologies, poor boy. And plus he doesn't like seeing you angry

Gives you personal space, times like these make him feel especially bad because he can't try and talk

And after a bit he'll message you asking you if your okay

If you are he'll take you out because he still feels bad about the argument

Edit: hi! I know some people have liked this post but before so, I put sukuna instead of toge. It was 11PM so I apologize on that part! (I just now realized I didn't do toge and rushed on his part) also my apologies with toge, my auto correct makes his name "together"

#jujustsu kaisen x reader #sukuna x reader #gojo satoru x reader #megumi x reader #gojo x reader #satoru x reader #sukuna x reader fluff #gojo satoru x reader fluff #gojo x reader fluff #satoru x reader fluff #jujutsu kaisen x reader hcs