#i never realized how fucked up and isolating my childhood was until like

[femme-malewife]

Seeing something you really don’t want to remember and just going:

#ummmmmmmmmm #to be real with everyone #i never realized how fucked up and isolating my childhood was until like #recently #and rn its being thrown right back in my face how Bad it was and i #can feel my will to live crumbling #like actually headass #what do i have to live for? #i never had a normal childhood. #everything popular was bad. #everything fun was bad. #i was bad for being curious about things #i was alone. completely and utterly alone #even if i wanted to be with the other kids (which i didnt...exactly? bc i was bullied pretty badly anyway in elementary school lol) #i wasnt allowed to #everyone also knew i wasnt allowed to do a lot of shit and mocked me for it #they dont realize how isolated i felt. no one knew and no one cared #bc i was just the stupid little girl who suffered from hallucinations bc of all the medication i was on #(note: i had bad seizures as a child so at age 5 i was on 5 different medications 3x a day) #anyway. tbh i still cant experience what its like to live a normal life. no matter how hard i try im a bad person for enjoying hobbies #or anything else #im being fucking watched right now im literlal ybieng watche d ani km a bad persom #inm sitik isolated im still fucling burning

[lobotomizedlady]

I think bpd is a bullshit stigmatizing label thrown at women to pathologize what is very obviously a response to prolonged childhood trauma and would be better labeled as C-PTSD. that being said my god I am bpd as fuck

#my sister just snapped at me bc i said i dont want to do a ton of physical labor for the job she signed me up for which apparently does i #in fact involve a lot of it. and her being mad for even that moment sent me spiraling so badly & i had the reaction i often do where #i start hating both her & myself terribly & want to isolate forever #i think she hates her new job & is taking it out on me but it doesnt matter bc i cant handle being yelled at #and the fact thst it took me till adulthood to realize thats bc i associate it with my father is crazy. yeah its just the cptsd like #everything else. and whats nutso is how i continue to think my trauma Wasnt Bad Enough for ptsd . #just bc he didnt beat the shit out of or molest me i feel like i dont even have a right to be this fucked up #not that it was only him. being bullied at school really did not help. i guess now that i think about it the problem is that until #i was a teenager i literally did not feel emotionally secure anywhere. home or school. always the ticking of a bomb in the bg #the inevitable moment my dad blew up over nothing or i overheard my peers talking about what a freak i was #i dont know why it still hurts to think about. im so far removed from it my life now couldnt be more different #well thats the stupid fucking thing about childhood isnt it. those are your very first experiences with the world & other ppl #i do know my view of romantic relationships was irrevocably poisoned by my parents & that is never going to be undone. so cool

[kiachiako]

april nct recs

my library of favorites from APR <3 all creds to authors

[ sorted by word count ]

series

JAEMIN | better than your next (i'm the next) | @ddeonuism 11.9k [ part one ]

RENJUN | messenger | @dojunie — smau | You find a phone number written on the mirror of the Sulim Library's second floor bathroom. It’s scrawled messily across the glass in erasable expo marker, the handwriting underneath almost closer to hieroglyphics than lettering— and what you thought it read, was ‘SEND DUCK PICS FOR A GOOD TIME.’ (You suppose, in hindsight, it was a good thing this person’s penmanship was so shit— because if you knew what it really said, you might have never stumbled across the oddly intriguing inbox of one Huang Renjun.)

oneshots

[m] JAEHYUN | seeds of pomegranates | @anashins 29.5k — The day the god of the underworld steals you away, he expects to have found a timid wife to make his isolated life more bearable. Little does he know that the rose he picked from the garden called earth bears knives instead of thorns, and he might not have found a timid wife, but a queen with a heart as dark as his.

[m] JAEHYUN | hearts are won at practice | @angelwonie 21.2k — jung jaehyun is an obnoxious, way too handsome footballer whom you have no intention of getting to know. at least until a series of coincidences forces you to spend time with him, and you realize there might be more to him than what meets the eye.

CHENLE | potential | @rrxnjun 20k — rich kids au, childhood friends au, friends with benefits au. angst, fluff, suggestive | You saw his potential without seeing credentials. And maybe that's the issue.

[m] HAECHAN | monochrome | @sundaysundaes — Lee Donghyuck once believed in the concept of soulmates—how fate would connect a red thread from one lover to another, in a form of dreams and memories. That was how his parents met, that was how they claimed their happiness, and he wanted nothing more but to live his life the way they lived theirs. Until one day, as he sees her slipping away from his hands, he has no choice but to stop believing entirely.

CHENLE | i still love you | @xiaodejunletsact 17.4k — high school can be complicated. thats why when your crush of three years, zhong chenle, approaches you out of nowhere offering to drive you home you are right to question his intentions.

HAECHAN | free trial wedding style | @liliansun 10.6k — when a random, cute, guy comes up to you and practically asks for you to follow along, you do so without much thought. that is until you get home and see he’s your new neighbor who just might need your help a little more than you expected.

[m] HAECHAN + MARK | the girl is mine | @luvrkives 10.5k — mark and hyuck can't stop fighting over you. who fucks you better, who makes you laugh more, who you like most, who fucks you better, yada yada yada. but honestly, why argue when you would happily take them both?

JAEHYUN | love you goodbye | @serendipityseulgi 10.3k — the one with the story of dysfunctional love between you and jaehyun. aka, you both want different things and your love isn’t always enough.

[m] JOHNNY | color evasion | @ncteez 8.7k — or the one where you join a kink website and a specific dom’s profile catches your attention enough to actually meet him at a hotel and practically ignore your safe words bc man, he’s good. 

[m] HAECHAN + JAEHYUN | mine too | @waithyuck 7.5k — donghyuck x jaehyun x reader (f), smut, basically pwp

JAEHYUN | eye of affection | @aitarose 6.6k — for as long as he can remember, jaehyun’s world has been in black and white - giving him no reason to appreciate his mother’s profession as an artist and the beauties that art can provide. however, an accidental meeting with you gives him reason to doubt his former beliefs - proving to him that there may be true beauty in a world that’s void of everything bright, that beauty being the sunshine that you provide. 

HAECHAN | full of love (and stars) | @httplastic 6k — friends/roommates to lovers, light angst

[m] HAECHAN | unavoidable | @sunpopz 5.8k — after swearing to yourself you're done catching feelings for people; you meet someone who makes that incredibly difficult. you think you can avoid him... then you're assigned a final together.

RENJUN | hard to let go | @cinnajun 4.3k — your high school friend group had an ambiguous and messy end, and you never got any closure for anything. two years later, and lee donghyuck’s girlfriend lives on the same floor as you, and you’re forced to face huang renjun, whose abandonment hurt you the most.

HAECHAN | she's quiet | @ijuliet 3.4k — although you were not looking to make new friends, the ones you had tried their hardest to push you out of your comfort zone to find something abnormal for you. which is why you’re at a frat party on a thursday night, watching as lee donghyuck observes you from afar.

[m] HAECHAN | all bark no bite | @jjsneo 2.5k — lee haechan is the most annoying man you’ve ever encountered. but that doesn’t mean you don’t find him hot; and maybe that’s why he has you flat on his mattress one night at a random frat party.

JAEHYUN | in the rain | @sehunniepotwrites 1.9k — All this time, you were looking for love in the wrong places and in the wrong people. As a serial dater, you never thought you would find it in the pouring rain and in the person you trusted the most. 

. . .

ur fav recs n fics blog is back hehe | happy reading <3

xoxo

#nct fic recs #nct fic rec #nct imagine #nct smut #nct127 #nct 127 fic #nct 127 #nct dream #nct #nct u #nct imagines #nct fic #nct fics #nct dream imagines #nct127 imagines #nct127 fic recs #nct au #nct aus #nct scenarios #nct dream fluff #nct 127 fic recs #jaehyun fic #jaehyun imagines #jaehyun fic recs #haechan x reader #haechan imagines #haechan au #haechan fic recs #haechan smut #renjun imagines

[samuelroukin]

Okay fuck it, team Roach, the 006 to the 141's 007, is roughly:

Roach: Captain Sanderson. Very soft spoken, stuck with extreme baby face despite being a hardened combat vet, tremendously calm, rational and easy going even when being shot at. Very reasonable and inhuman levels of stealthy. Never raises his voice, which is often Worse. He's not really sure how he got here but he is unfortunately Very Good at This. Which is both leadership and Warfare. In his heart of hearts he just wants to be chilling on a pool floatie with a beer in hand but Alas.

His Second in Command: Handsome, Polite, Charming and Clinically Insane. As in they are 100% fudging this man's psych evals. He seems easy going and fun but this man is basically a monster, he is the type that signed up to kill people and not go to jail. Graves but Worse. He's only technically a Hero because Roach is holding his leash but. Seriously he seems fine until you're alone in an enclosed space with him and your lizard brain sends up a panic alarm akin to being trapped in an elevator with a lion. The more he talks the more you realize he... doesn't live in the real world. For Reasons Unknown Roach is pretty much the only one that does actually have a collar on him. He Gets Real Weird and Jealous over Ghost when they finally meet.

Tex: Your Killing Machine Has Anxiety. Possibly the world's best sniper and a true mathematical genius, who has next to no social skills, the legacy of a childhood stutter and growing up in a Very Rural Isolated area. Excellent at taking directions but it's hard to not pin a kick me sign on him despite him being, objectively, a very dangerous guy. A lot of people assume he's Like That because of warfare/soldiers get strange/ptsd etc. No he was always Weird, he is definitely Undiagnosed Neurodivergent, but so is his whole family. A Cheetah in search of a Dog in his Pen. Hypercompetent in the field, who let you out of your cage otherwise.

Doc: World's Bitterest Medic. Loves humanity as a concept and truly believes in medicine as a science dedicated to the betterment of life and wellbeing. Also Hates Every Single Human Being he has ever come across. Extreme Pissed of Mom Who Says Get Your Ass Down Here Now Or I Will Beat You to Death Myself energy. Means he generally keeps them in line socially as well as the Angry Mom Friend so Tex generally hides behind him. He grumbles but he secretly kind of loves it. Unfortunately, these Idiots are *his* idiots. You are Stupid and Embarassing and he Will Run Out Under Heavy Fire to Save You at the risk of his own life. Running in joke is "does the life threatening wound hurt enough to subject yourself to his bedside manner?" Absolutely terrible taste in music he subjects them all to.

There are at least one or two more guys in this train wreck but these are the mains. Unsurprisingly something this disfunction works out horribly well and they are incredibly effective. Tired Dad Energy Roach vs You Should Have Gone Before We Left Mom Medic plus Their Frail Victorian Son of a Sniper plus I Will Kill For You Please Ask Me To Kill For You and Give Me Attention 2IC means this shit is actually A OK by the brass.

lmao didn't you just say you put no thought into them? these guys are far more developed than my ocs, give yourself some credit! they all sound great and like i said i already love tex and doc but uh HI second in command 👀

#meduseld #asks

[wodnes--coyotl]

listening to this cover of johnny and mary that's so amazing.

i looked out the window and realized id been so enthralled in being on my phone and writing,

that i was surprised to see clouds gathering for rain,

because it's been so warm lately.

i thought about a face my dad used to make, and this feeling of his presence that i sometimes dream about in a distorted and grotesque way

sometimes this happens in a fleeting moment, i cant hold onto it, it slips between my fingers, and when it happens,

i cry, and i try to catch the feeling, to sit in it, but i can't

and in that moment, i related to him again and wished i could tell him sorry

maybe something about the synth in the song, the small window im looking at

i thought of a steakhouse we went to as a kid. i didnt understand why we were there. if we were poor, how could he afford it? he was always so unhappy after work. he would say something, his eyes were so exhausted, he was so defeated, but like a steer pressing on to survive, he continued to do so. that's how i knew him, my entire life, until the day he died.

sometimes i feel a heavy tired pressing-on that makes me feel similar to him. and mom. it's a texas thing. especially when the clouds gather over the plains.

i think about the slow silence of white walls and isolation and negligence and being left alone, the sorrow of my childhood that is a snowglobe of pain and mystery, and a safe haven that no one can take away from me, in a fucked up way.

i live in perpetual fear of the future

and trapped in the snowglobe of pain of the past

i see a break of blue in the clouds and think of the windows 98 i grew up learning how to use faster than my parents, at a very early age. i was younger than 6, because we still lived in dallas.

i think about being autistic, and my parents.

texas, the 90s, the pre-social media-readily-accesible-information world

the slow way people were allowed to not know everything

and the way that life will never be the same

how i think about killing myself every day but i dont want to and hopefully never will

and then i think of my parents dying hollow

at least my fathers skeletal self looked more human than hers did.

i wish i could scream.

im so alone

i dont know if anyone will ever understand me

and this is why i want to die

sometimes

thinking it will preserve me into a framed art piece behind glass

forever

but it wont, it will be nothing.

and that isn't what i want.

i dont want to die.

#i am really mentally unwell right now #i have therapy in 45 minutes and i have to mask because im in my inlaws house #i need the space to be crazy and unhinged

[aggressivenesswhilecrying]

It's my party, and I'll cry if I want to

Summery:

Martyn has no issue with getting older, none at all, but still, every year, when his birthday comes knocking, it's another dread to the list.

Tw!! Feelings of self doubt and hate, crying, isolation

Not beta read or edited!!

And like always, it's here again.

Martyn’s birthday.

If you were to know anything about martyn is he hates being touched when overwhelmed, but he still craves that touch. 

He also has to wear the same two coats everytime he leaves the house, and they both look exactly the same except one is bigger on him.

There's also assigned seating in his house. He always sits on the left end of the couch, next to the end table that has a lamp. And it really bothers him when someone else sits there.

He also puts his closet rainbow order. 

And he hates chocolate cuz it makes his mouth greasy.

And when he gets scared, he thinks he hurts his friends and cuts them off out of fear he's making things for them worse.

And he hates holidays.

Gods how he hates them.

Well...

OK. He doesn't hate holidays. He loves the idea of them, really!! But, in practice? The only he really ever takes joy in, is halloween. You can't fuck up halloween. He just, he can't remember having a happy holiday? Maybe it's childhood trauma, maybe he's being dramatic, but also every holiday he can remember, was tainted in some sort of way, by some just, awful event. 

And as you can probably assume. Martyn counts his birthday as a personal holiday.

Its 12:32am, and martyn is a year older, and martyn feels sick. The numb sort of sick, where you aren't necessarily connected to it, but you can still feel your stomach turning in knots. He's scared. He sits on the kitchen counter right by the sink. The light above the stove being the only light on besides his phone screen. 

12:33am. The numbers taunt him. 

He realizes he probably won't do anything about it. He has the day off from work. So his plan is probably just stay up too late, because he never gets the peace of mind to get good sleep, if any at all during holidays, natrually, sleep in, make something to eat, watch shitty TV, go grocery shopping, hop on the discord vc, hang out, talk with who ever is there, and then read until his eyes feel heavy. Just like every other day.

Martyn decides to update his discord status. The silly profile picture of a picrew greats him. The background is an ace and unlabeled flag, and martyn feels his heart sing for just a moment, before the rot in his stomach takes over again as he taps into his status. Erasing the song lyrics without hesitation.

'Lvl 25!!' 

Yeah. That'll work. 

It's 12:36am now. It's 12:36am, and martyn is scared.

He isnt sure what he's scared if. But he feels the frantic beating of his pulse. Martyn gave up on figuring out what he was so afraid of years ago.

It wasn't getting older, no, he'd been raised on the internet, a constant state of feeling like he should be older, and feeling like he shouldn't be this old yet.  An odd limbo, so it wasn't the fear of getting older. 

And it wasn't necessary the fear of the future, of course the future is scary and he had his fair share of issues with it.

It's more of, every year, is just a reminder, that he's going, absolutely no where. He has nothing to show for it. No friends with tales about him, no one to sit in his one bedroom apartment and tell him, they're happy he made it another year.

He knows in full certainty, it's kinda his fault. And a part of him wishes, as he stares at his phone, that someone, anyone. Sends him a text without him reminding them. It's 12:41am and martyn sees a tear hit his phone screen. 

Another year passes, his age just goes up another number, and he hates his birthday more then he hates any other holiday. And still.

He's insignificant at best.

Author notes

And once again, annual birthday post, and like always, I put my feelings about my birthday onto a character. If I post on February 26th, just assume it's a vent post. I'm not feeling awesome, but I will live, and post more later, I'm writing a few really fun aus right now actually!! :)))

#aggressivewrites #fanfic #fanfiction #martyn inthelittlewood #birthday

[eldritch-spouse]

I feel like I would be having a normal conversation in the Clergy and then mention one of my extremely traumatizing events and then brush over it like oh yeah so and so happened when I was like five and now I like fucking monsters and at least one person would call the cops

TW: Mentions of traumatic events.

Eh, not quite.

No one that ends up in The Clergy is normal and many of the staff there have gone through differing types of traumatic events, which make them into the unstable monsters that Krulu needs working there. People who he can influence and appeal to more easily, absorb into a social circle that, albeit hazardous to others, gives some of them the closure and comfort they desire.

No one would call anything to the scene because you're in the midst of people who have either endured or done similar things. At the same time that most of the staff will not trivialize traumatic events, they will also not react very bombastically or know how to comfort you properly, even if they sympathize with you.

Just think about it. I've hinted at Vinnel being an unwanted child do to his own illness which he could never help- What do you think his parents tried to do to a child that embarrassed them like that?

Then there's Morell, someone who has witnessed murders and cannibalism since childhood, who was forced to participate in such by parents that, although loving, don't realize they've traumatized him into associating food and violence with love.

Santi wasn't born a high-ranking incubus, he had to crawl his way up painstakingly from horrid situations and endure sexual encounters that left marks on him.

Gallon got the less shitty end of the stick and is mostly just the product of someone who grew up watching extremely morbid things and carried the effects of such from childhood into adulthood, becoming an apathetic and unreadable monster.

Grimbly grew up absolutely isolated, a nomad of sorts whose only goal was to survive in the unsafe streets up until Santi found him.

Patches has the vast majority of his human lifetime blocked out of his mind, he doesn't even know why but he feels sick whenever he tries to remember it- Nebul won't tell him what he sees either.

Wraiths only truly form when someone dies with unfinished businesses in the mortal world. Nebul had a whole lot of unfinished matters and unprocessed sentiments clinging to him when he perished. He was not at peace with life and he carries that displeasure perpetually now.

Fank-e almost died. In fact, he still has the fucking bullet in his visor. He's deathly afraid of someone touching his visor and will enter panic attacks if pushed about the event where he should have died. He's nothing like his previous self, there is some form of light disassociation there.

Krulu... I don't need to say anything, do I?

#tasiawrites #general tce #Krulu oc #Fank-e oc #Nebul oc #Vinnel oc #Morell oc #Patches oc #Gallon oc #Grimbly oc #Santi oc #also calling the cops in an illegal establishment is not the brightest idea lmao

[radsplain]

All you radfems constantly shitting on trans people like you have nothing better to do in your life. Like. Have you ever even taken a minute to try to realize what it feels like to feel like your own body is wrong and awful and disgusting and you can’t stand another minute trapped in it? To starve yourself until you’re underweight just because that way you look less curvy and your breasts are smaller and you’re less feminine? To feel like you want to take a knife and cut off the parts of your body that you can’t stand to look at? Using drugs to cope with dysphoria and make your brain finally shut up? Feeling so completely isolated because no one in your life understand what it’s like to feel this way? Not being sure about any of the decisions because despite any surgery and hormone therapy in the world, you will still never be a *real* person of the other sex? As if the waiting lists aren’t months to years long anyway. You all talk like you can bring a child to a clinic and they’ll get hormones the next day. When in reality even for adults the process consists of visiting multiple mental health professionals, multiple doctors, it can all take years before you even get to start taking them? And also how it feels like having to hide your feelings from everybody because even your own family would be disgusted by you? You all act like trans people are just straight white males whose entire transition process consists of makeup and dresses and wigs and out of a desire to harass women. And yeah, those people exist. But not everyone is like that. The majority, who actually has a life outside of Twitter, isn’t like that. Not everyone is quite literally willingly letting their bodies be mutilated just to achieve what, flashing your genitals to a kid in a public bathroom? Real life is not like that at all. You’re so uneducated and naive on this topic yet talk like you’ know everything. Trans women are evil predators and trans men are poor victims of the manipulation and propaganda. Literally just read one actual trans person’s description of their life. And honestly fuck those tiktok kids inventing new genders because they want attention because you know that’s not what I’m talking about so don’t even try to use it as a talking point. There’s a fucking difference between dying your hair blue and wearing horrible “alt” clothes and going by she/they just because all your friends are doing so, and someone who has spent their entire life wishing they were born as a different sex and already showing it as a child but no one bothered to ever pay attention because kids are just quirky and weird like that. And never paying any attention to it in the rest of childhood and adolescence either, because why deal with a problem when you can easily ignore it? And yet I’ll most likely still never get to actually go through the medical or social process of transition due to societal pressure and the shitty place I live in. And I’m just one of the people with this experience that you keep mocking either due to your willful ignorance or complete lack of empathy, and I honestly don’t know which one is worse.

I mean this in the most genuine possible way, but please seek out therapy. It probably felt good to get all that out, but spilling out all of your anxieties onto random people is not going to help you with everything you listed here. This entire message literally proves my point about the gender cult and why people, especially TIFs, decide to transition. You're not "trans" (no one is, but that's a whole other post). Y'all literally just need therapy. REAL therapy, not that "gender-affirming" bs. So much of this message, especially the parts about feeling wrong and disgusting in your body and wanting to starve yourself until you're underweight to look "less feminine" is such a red flag. I'm not a doctor or psychologist, but babe you're not struggling with "gender dysphoria." You have massive body image and mental health issues that haven't been addressed and are being wrapped up in this ideology of being "trans."

I'm not going to respond to every single point you made here, but this massive tangent feels like it was more for you to let out your frustrations than for me. And that's fine, but just know nothing you said here has swayed my opinion. If anything, it's strengthened it. I do have empathy for what you're going through and I truly do wish you healing and happiness, but venting to random strangers on the internet like this really isn't going to help you.

#anon

[obmessed]

What do you think of most popular piri ships? Im happy there is sea content in tumblr

If you're referring to three specific nations, seeing them being paired romantically bothers me a lot. Like, you know the Philippines is not special right? America and Japan also took other territories during the same time they took Philippines.

But shipping them platonically, that's good shit. Cuz like what this vlog's description says:

no ships, just friendships

If your interested, just read more to see my version of their perspective during their time together.

If you're gonna ask me who to ship Piri with, ship him with the nation he had a special and healthy history with. Like South Korea and Israel.

And as for shipping him with other southeast Asians, it feels kind of wrong since I feel like they're all related by blood or whatever runs in nations' veins. Like how America is related to Canada kind of thing. But hey, you do you while I do me.

Like for Spain, since he's a really nice and nurturing guy in the anime he probably did everything he thought was best for Piri. He gave him religion as a moral guide, education making him be the first Asian nation to have a university, and of course some of his traditions so that he could belong to the world out there since he's aware that no nation would accept his original traditions.

When he first met him, he was a strong thriving boy and desired to help him. But his resistance forced him to get violent which lead him to accidentally hit him in the head so hard that he got amnesia. Realizing how much he fucked up the kid, he became an overprotective big brother who isolated him from the world until he sees his the same strong boy again.

This overprotectiveness became the downfall of their relationship, because it caused him to keep babying Piri even tho he's already older for that and is intelligent enough to understand how ridiculing his treatment is. And when he executed his pacifistic friend, he stopped seeing him as a brother and never called him 'kuya' again.

For America, he probably saw himself in Piri. Both fought their older brothers who refused to hear them out, until they couldn't take it anymore. That was how similar they were until America's independent end, where he experienced hardship being on his own for the first few decades.

Taking a liking on him he decided what he thought was for the best, going behind his back and making a deal with Spain. Even when their war broke out and the some people are displeased with him, he still believed it was for the best. Even if it means the cost of their friendship.

Nearing the end of the war and it was just the two of them guns faced against each other. Piri's thoughts went to the man who opened his eyes, the man who was truly his friend until his execution. He though about how he would feel seeing him like this, letting his violent nature take over him.

Realizing this isn't what Rizal would've wanted, he threw away his shot and aimed his gun to the sky. And then suddenly, he was shot.

America, realizing what he had just done couldn't proudly proclaim his victory and just realized he doesn't want to do this to him. But it was too late, so what he did instead is that he promised him that he'd let him go in just a few decades and that he was sorry. He got the cold shoulder from Piri for years after, making him regret everything more.

As for Japan, he was a childhood friend and has spent time with him for their first years as nations until he was taken. Him being taken was the most traumatizing thing he has ever witnessed, that he shut himself out from other nations and persecuted anyone with foreign ideologies in order to protect himself.

Eventually, he decided that it was time for him to save an old friend, dozens of old friends. When he met him for the first time in centuries, he found himself despairing at the fact that he was too late. Not only did he drastically changed, he also doesn't remember him, like at all. So he did what he thought would make up for that, protect this new culture that he obtained and banned everything Western.

When he finally surrendered and everything was over, he knew that his neighbors do not like right now and his chances of getting his old friends back were ruined. Which was why he surprised when he found out that Piri and his new boss (Elpidio Quirino) sent his soldiers home.

Even more so, when he acted friendly towards him, so he asked: why? and he said:

"I hated America for decades and that was the most exhausting and pointless thing I've ever done, sure what I felt was justified but in the end we managed to be friends again. Actually we should've been friends again maybe years ago, because he actually tried to be a better friend throughout his time in my place. I was just too cold towards him to move us along.

And my people inherited that...

I don't want them to inherit my hatred anymore, especially towards neighbors. They're not a 100% with me and my boss in forgiving you though, so it might take some time for them to warm up to you completely. But I'm sure it won't be too long for them to love you.

After all, you said we were friends right? Even though I don't remember out time together, something inside me wants to go back to that. So I'm taking the initiative to become your friend again"

#hws philippines #hws spain #hws america #hws japan #hws asean

[god-must-be-doing-cocaine]

So I’ve been looking up media analysis of “pick me” girls and what they are and how they operate because I know I used to be one and I’m not a pick me anymore but I need to get these thoughts out somewhere and I need somebody to see what I’m thinking and just help me out a little bit

Fair warning: this post is gonna be all over the place, so I apologize if anything feels out of order

Recently I was talking to a coworker of mine. Now I don’t have any close friends mainly because I don’t know how to make friends. For most of my life I was (unwillingly) isolated from people my own age. My parents were very conservative and republican (but not religious) and my mother homeschooled me and my siblings for most of our childhoods and that has caused a lot of my mental health issues and self esteem issues especially when it comes to making friends and grappling with hanging out or working with people my own age. And I made a comment to him (because I mainly laugh and joke with him and another boy at work) “you and so and so make me look like a pick me girl because you’re the only people I laugh with” and he said “you are”. I disagreed but it didn’t sit right with me.

I have 5 older siblings. My 2 oldest are my two older sisters who moved out when I was around ten and because of the age gap we were never really close. So in my earlier years I grew up with three older brothers, a stepfather and a mother who was not at all a good example of femininity because she was a “pick me” herself. It was a conservative and misogynistic household (we also moved around the country a lot, hence another reason I was so isolated). I also have two younger siblings both of which are around a decade younger than me, so there’s an age gap there as well.

The thing is, I’m used to boys. Specifically immature boys with a gross sense of humor because they remind me of my brothers (but without the childhood trauma and pain my brothers inflicted on me with their ignorance and misogyny). I never knew how to truly be close to girls. I have had girl friends and I have been able to have close female friendships for a time. But I haven’t had an actual female friendship in years because I was homeschooled in my last years in high school and I suck at keeping in touch with people, so I don’t talk to anyone from high school except for one girl who was my best friend at the time, however we are not as close as we used to be. I’ve never felt feminine enough for girls because I didn’t get my nails done, I wasn’t that good with makeup (my face doesn’t allow it but I still love makeup), I’m not conventionally attractive and I wasn’t into anything overly girly (all of which definitely contributed to my years of being an actual pick me). But I wasn’t masculine enough for the typical archetype and for boys either. I’ve always thought sports were boring as fuck, I didn’t care for most action movies, although I’ve always loved marvel and dc and anything “nerdy”. I didn’t care for video games other than Minecraft. I also didn’t realize I was bisexual until I was 15 years old. Growing up in a conservative household where gay people were seen as “less than”, It wasn’t at all an option- especially to little emotionally neglected me who just wanted to feel included in her own family.

These are the issues I’ve felt with in regards to my gender. Not feminine (or masculine) enough for girls, and not masculine (or feminine) enough for boys. It doesn’t help that being raised to think of girls as competition and then knowing that you’re ugly so it’s a losing competition anyway, doesn’t help. Funny thing is I never wanted all boys attention. At the time I had only wanted one boys attention. But that doesn’t matter now.

So at my current job (unlike my last job), I actually get to work with more women and girls closer to my age because there’s more girls than boys that work there.

My problem is that I have no idea how to be friends with anyone. I don’t hang out with anyone outside of work (I have no idea how to initiate hanging out or to even hang out without a purpose anymore) and no one has invited me to hang out with them. There are probably several reasons as to why that is regarding other people’s personal lives and it’s hard to remember that it’s not always about me. I’ve been alone so long and I live in my own little world so I try my best not to take things personally, but my desperation for friendship still likes to show itself and I don’t notice it until I embarrass myself in some way shape or form. Like the other day, when I heard people laughing at work and when I tried to involve myself this girl practically yelled at me and said something along the lines of “girl this doesn’t involve you go away”. Which, fair enough. I wasn’t invited. But it was still humiliating when I laughed it off with the two boys (the same ones I joke with a lot). But what really hurt was when two seconds later she looked at everyone around her and said “what? She ALWAYS butts in!”

When she said that I was embarrassed, but mostly I felt guilty. I already knew this girl doesn’t really like me and she thinks I’m annoying but sometimes she is nice to me. Sometimes her and I do have fun and I can forget how mean she can be. And I can’t help but want to be her friend too most of the time. I was silent the rest of my shift. Thinking about it, I realized that I’m slowly becoming my mother. So desperate for connection I forget about social codes and try to include myself, forcing myself in by way of a joke or a laugh. And that’s where my guilt comes from. Guilty for trying to be a part of something (anything) that at least one person always doesn’t want me to be a part of. Hell, it’s the guilt from being born that my mother passed on to me.

So because of my gender, because of the way I experience femininity and masculinity and how I don’t know how to balance the two. Because I have no idea how to be friends with people, especially women regardless of how much I’d love a female friend. I don’t feel good enough for women, or most men for that matter. Because I only know how to feel “comfortable” in a way that makes me laugh around boys I wonder if I still am a pick me, or if I’m just an insanely lonely creature of habit. I feel like I know the answer but when I try to word it or think of it my mind goes blank.

I’m well aware that by sharing all of this I am opening myself up to criticism and judgement from anyone who reads this. I don’t expect many people to see this or read it all the way through, but I would like some thoughts. Or advice. Or any confirmation that I’m not the only one who’s experienced this. I just need at least one witness to my existence. Nobody I know follows me on here or even knows I have tumblr, so worst case scenario is that I have to delete this post because of some comments 🤷‍♀️. So what do I have to lose by finally making some of my feelings and thoughts public? This way it’s more anonymous

For a long time this loneliness was something I had to take pride in because if I didn’t I had to confront the realization that maybe no wanted me or wanted to be around me. But I’m getting too old for that and I’m tired. And the thought of being an actual pick me does scare me, because I’m also way too old for that. Hence why the topic triggers this thought process in me.

#pick me girl #pick me choose me love me #feminism #feminist #femininity #masculine #masculine girl #genderqueer #nonbinary #i’m bisexual but i constantly frown when lost in thought or doing something that doesn’t require a specific facial reaction #bisexual #spotify #acrylic painting #artists on tumblr #70s aesthetic #marvel #the song of achilles #legendborn #my dark vanessa #nandermo #what we do in the shadows #for you

[arethereanyoriginalusernames]

Bubble Gum

A story/writing practice with my characters. This was supposed to be short… RIP

———-

Synopsis: Childhood friends don’t always last forever. Sometimes they part ways and never met again for years. Sometimes they grow to hate each other. Sometimes one goes on a desperate bid to kill the other because her little sister is being held hostage, she’s been socially isolated for two years, everything is crumbling around her, and she can’t kill one damn patchwork troll!

…Oh yeah, and sometimes childhood friends who grow apart can grow close again.

———————

‘Pop!’

The young demon beside her jumped at the sound of her bubble gum bubble popping. He jumped so high, in fact, he somehow glued himself to the ceiling ten feet above their heads. Arryn couldn’t keep herself from laughing at his terrified expression, until she started to choke slightly on her gum.

Trix detached himself from the ceiling and landed back beside her, and promptly started slapping her on the back.

“Regurgitate! Regurgitate! Regurgitate!” He shrieked.

In spite of her choking, this only made Arryn laugh harder, giggling between coughs. Eventually she was able to cough up her gum, and gave Trix, who was still hitting her and screaming, a hard shove.

“M’kay, I’m fine, staaaph!”

Trix rolled over quilted blankets and patchwork pillows onto his bedroom floor, made up of several different sets of tiles. At the foot of the bed, there was a small noise as Arryn’s baby sister awoke. Arryn quickly reached over to reassure her, and, thankfully, with a tiny yawn, she went back to sleep.

Arryn gave Trix a sharp kick to his side.

“Way to go, patches! You woke Lithie up!”

“It’s not my fault!” He protested, “You pushed me off the bed!”

“You deserved it!”

“And startled poor little me with that awful awful pink evil!”

“It’s called bubble gum, dummy!”

“The pink evil! Oh spare me, spare me!”

“Oh, get up, you wimp!”

“Place two coins over my eyes for the ferryman!”

“Alright, that’s it!” And with that, she flew off the bed, and started tickling him under the ribs. Trix let out another shriek, darting away and grabbing one of his many pillows. Realizing what was happening, Arryn too grabbed a nearby pillow, and held it up just in time to block an attack from Trix.

The two chased each other in circles around the room, laughing as they both took swings at each other. Unsurprisingly, their ruckus woke Lithie, who groggily sat up by herself. Well, at least as well as a three year old could. She watched the two through sleepy eyes as Trix suddenly collided into Arryn, knocking them both down. They wrestled about on the floor when suddenly the bedroom door was swung open with a crash that shook the walls. Followed by a scream that shook the whole room.

“WHAT IN THE NAME OF THE DARKEST DEMON LORDSHIP’S ASS ON A STRIPPER POLE IS FUCKING GOING ON, YOU UNHOLY PIECES OF SHIT?!”

Both children practically levitated back up to their feet, and stood straight, side by side with hands behind their backs, with the cutest, sweetest expressions of innocence they could muster. An unimpressed Jadis glared back at them, her fingers drumming furiously on the door frame. Cold green eyes flicked back and forth between the two, while a black forked tongue darted out from between her gritted teeth. After a few moments, she inhaled deeply before speaking in a quieter, but no less frightening tone.

“What. Are you two doing?”

“Oh, we are playing, of course!” Trix responded, still keeping an innocent look on his face. Jadis, still not impressed, raised an eyebrow, and turned her attention to Arryn.

“Didn’t I give you some gum earlier? Why don’t you go sit and chew that quietly until the boss comes back?”

Before Arryn could respond, a whine came from Trix.

“How come she gets candy?”

“Because she passed her test today and you didn’t.” Jadis said coolly, “Also because I wasn’t told you little weasels were expecting treats, and I don’t feel like heading to earth today. And Arryn’s lucky I happened to still have a quarter of a pack of bubble gum in my pocket.”

Arryn puffed out her chest with pride, while Trix pouted. Jadis rolled her eyes, and, told them to play nice, and left, muttering about how she wished that the boss didn’t always leave her to babysit two twelve year olds.

Arryn glanced over to the bed to see Lithie crawling over to the edge of the bed, and rushed to catch her before she fell off. She carried her little sister in the arms, and turned back towards Trix, who hadn’t moved an inch.

Arryn couldn’t help but feel sympathy for him. Being taught by the same teachers in shared lessons, they were often compared to each other. Arryn usually favoured over Trix. She took out a piece of her gum, walked over, and held it out for him. Trix glanced at it, but turned away and continued to pout.

Arryn groaned. “Fine, be that way!”

She turned around to place Lithie on the ground when Trix spoke up.

“Let’s make a deal.”

He turned around to face her.

“When we’re grown up, whoever’s the better demon gets rewarded a giant packet of bubble gum!”

Arryn burst out laughing, sure he was joking. Then she saw his expression. He was serious. She squared her shoulders, and stuck out her hand with a smirk on her face.

“Deal.”

They shook on it.

It was silly, sure, but maybe it could be a shared joke between the two. Arryn looked forward to teasing Trix about the promised bubble gum in the future.

After all, as far as she could tell, they’d easily stay friends long into adulthood, surely.

************

It was a dark and blustery night. Winds whistling past suggested a storm brewing. A crescent moon illuminated storm clouds rapidly spreading across an indigo sky. Scattered lamp posts were lit around the quarry, making a path of sorts for those lost in the night.

Arryn was perched atop the tin roof of an old, rusty house. She could only speculate what the house might have been for, given how run down and empty it was. She kept her gaze fixated on a specific lamp post, one located just by the door of the house. Any sound she heard made her grip the handle of her scythe tightly, ready to ambush anyone who stepped into the light of the lamp post. She had been waiting awhile, and while she stayed at the ready, her mind still wandered down memory lane.

It had been a considerable length of time since she and Trix last spoke properly, and Arryn reckoned that she hadn’t seen him since she had become the grim reaper’s pupil. That was a while ago, 4 years back maybe. Friendships don’t always last an eternity, and it perhaps wasn’t surprising that she and Trix had drifted apart. Although, she had often wondered if their friendship could have lasted longer. The two had always enjoyed playing together, sparring, dreaming about the future, and pulling silly pranks on others. They had enjoyed each other’s presence, but it was clear how it had soured. Arryn was always the best. Arryn always had so much potential. Trix was only known for being the son of Surgat, the head of their legion, Legion 333. He was always slower at learning magic and discovering his powers. That fake personality of his definitely didn’t do him any favours. Was him being relegated to being a summonable demon what did it? It was very likely, given how that position was usually given to demons who weren’t as proficient in gathering souls. Meanwhile, Arryn had been given the role of Roaming Demon, a position given to demons who could do their job in seeking out sinners damn well.

It was a shame, really. Arryn had liked having him as a friend. It was going to feel so strange to kill him. She didn’t want to, especially because she didn’t have anything personal against the guy, but…

Lithie was in danger as long as Ceries wasn’t given what she wanted. Arryn had no clue why Ceries needed Trix dead, but she wasn’t going to risk her sister’s life to find out. She knew what Ceries was capable of, and there was no way in hell Arryn was going to let her hurt Lithie.

The sound of a humming tune and footsteps alerted her to someone approaching. He was close enough now that Arryn could make out his silhouette in the dark. She gritted her teeth and readied herself. She had always bested Trix every time they fought, and this would be no different. She decided to make it quick. That way she wouldn’t have time to change her mind.

********

She lost. And she lost again. And again. And again. And again and again and again and again and again and

How? How did this happen? How did she keep failing? How long was this going to go on?

As she lay on her back, rain falling on her face and into her eyes, she prayed that it wouldn’t be long. Her blood flowed from severed fingers into puddles of mud, and she didn’t want to look down and see the state of her torso. She didn’t want to see the large gash left behind by a vindictive Ceries. Nor did she want to look at the hair ribbon clutched in her one good hand, a promise by Ceries of what was to become of Lithie.

Tears burned her eyes and cheeks as she imagined what Lithie must be going through. Ten. Ten years old. That’s how old her sister got to be. And now, because of Arryn’s failure, that’s all Lithie would get to be.

And it was all because of that damn patchwork demon. Somehow, some way, Trix had some sort of fire lit within him. She saw it in their fights, a sort of drive and passion she’d never seen from him before. She had no clue where that came from, until she kidnapped that one girl Trix was always running after.

She was a jellyfish shifter with the blankest face Arryn had ever seen. Missi was her name. Missi and Trix were always together, and it was clear that Trix was infatuated with her, although Missi… well, it was hard to tell. Nonetheless, all Arryn wanted was an edge. She was running out of chances. All that had to happen was for Trix to give himself up in exchange for Missi’s life.

What Arryn hadn’t expected was for Trix to snap. He lost the fake, theatrical persona. He didn’t fight in his usual playful way. He fought to kill. All the while berating Arryn for taking away not just the love of his life, but one of the few people who didn’t make him feel like a worthless disappointment.

‘Well, that certainly explained some of it’ Arryn thought bitterly as everything around her became a blur. The last thing she remembered was what looked like a figure made entirely of patches standing above her, trying to lift her out of the mud.

********

“You came!”

Arryn glanced up at the smiling demon before her before casting her eyes back down.

“Yeah? You told me to come and… I don’t have much else to do.”

Arryn hadn’t planned on accepting Trix’s invitation to meet at the park. After everything that happened, she had no energy to deal with Trix being himself right now. Perhaps she should be grateful. Despite everything, he had been the one to pull her to safety, help patch her up, and help her rescue Lithie. Thanks to him, Ceries was gone, and Lithie was safe. He had even taken on the responsibility to be Lithie’s mentor while Arryn recovered. All that, after the numerous times Arryn had tried to kill him.

She should be happy. She knew that. She did try. From positive thinking exercises to practicing with makeup, Arryn tried to get back to normal. She even sent a message to her ex-girlfriend to see if they could talk. And yet… all it took was a glimpse of her missing index and pinky fingers, or the sight of the ugly scar across her stomach. The world always faded to grey misery as an unyielding sense that her life was over returned.

The damp grass and the wet park bench really didn’t help. She could feel the cold water seep through her boots and socks, leaving her feet clammy and uncomfortable.

Trix hopped down beside her on the bench. Arryn hardly reacted, but she did notice the wrapped present in his hand. She raised an eyebrow.

“Bit early for Christmas.”

Trix laughed and began another one of his silly monologues.

“Why no, comrade! Though I’d be glad! Holidays, everyday? It would drive me mad….” He paused. “Ok, but seriously, I did want to give you something. And… talk.”

Arryn flinched, taken off guard by Trix dropping his bizarre, Shakespearean way of speaking and… talking normally? She was always well aware that he was faking it, but he never stopped, even when called out for it. He only dropped it whenever he was extremely emotional. This was the first time Arryn had heard him speak casually in his actual voice, and it was a little jarring.

She sat up straighter and looked over at him. His posture was more relaxed, as was the expression on his face. It was so… odd. Arryn expected him to break it, and go back to doing something random, like cartwheeling over the bench, babbling in rhyme. But instead they both sat in silence for a while.

Finally, Arryn spoke up, “What did you want to talk to me about?”

“Well,” Trix paused again, “… First, I wanted to mention that Lithie has been doing great in training. She managed to take out a stick mannequin!”

Arryn smiled slightly. “That’s… great. But… you do know that Lithie…”

“Probably won’t be fighting anyone any time soon? Yeah…”

Indeed, Lithie’s powers at this consisted of being able to summon flowers. Sometimes the flowers could send someone to sleep, but it wasn’t much. Her magic was undeniably developing much slower than expected and it was very likely that she wouldn’t grow up to have particularly strong magic.

“Um… not to change the topic or anything, but here.”

The present fell into Arryn’s lap. She hesitated before carefully unwrapping it to find a large, pink box.

It was a family sized package of bubble gum.

“Remember how we agreed that whoever turned out to be the strongest demon got a large thing of bubble gum as a reward?”

Arryn looked over at him, bewildered.

“Are… are you fucking with me?”

“Hm?”

“After… after everything… you realize that I lost to you a billion times? And you had to save Lithie because I couldn’t?”

Trix sighed and drummed his fingers on his knee. He pondered a bit before finally replying.

“… Truth is I should have given you that a long time ago. I lost any chance at being stronger or better long before we had ever made that deal. Someone who’s ‘strong’ doesn’t pretend to be something they’re not. They don’t try to mimic what they think is strong. I’ve spent my life playing a character I thought would make people take me seriously. I figured that people expected more from me given who my father is. When my father told me he didn’t expect me to be an almighty demon on his level, I didn’t believe him. Missi and the others told me that playing up a character is foolish but…”

He trailed off, and Arryn was about to elbow him to continue before he spoke again. “Then I started mentoring Lithie and… I think I get just how foolish it was.”

Arryn rolled her eyes, “what? My little sister give you a lecture or something?”

“No. It’s because… if I tell myself that if I don’t live up to some ideal, if I don’t prove myself to be the best, if I make myself out to be some sort of disappointment… what do I tell Lithie when she still can’t use her powers to fight back properly?”

An uncomfortable silence settled over them as Arryn realized what he meant. After a minute or so, Trix pushed the box further into Arryn’s hands.

“My point is, I don’t want Lithie to do what I have, to feel what I feel. I’ve ended friendships and ruined things because I wanted to be a ‘proper demon’. Nowadays… it’s hard not to play things up. I still feel like I need people to be freaked out by me just a little bit, even though I’m not trying to be some terrifying demon anymore. Plus, it’s hard for me to do things like… help others emotionally. When Missi was going through some serious things, I couldn’t help! I was stuck in this way of acting, and I couldn’t break it! I didn’t know how’d I’d explain why I…”

Trix finally seemed to give up, slumping forward and burying his face in his hands. Arryn sat quietly, processing everything. Then, as quietly as she could, she popped a piece of gum in her mouth, chewed, blew a bubble, then….

‘POP!’

Trix sprung off the bench in surprise, falling and landing in the wet grass. Arryn smirked.

“At least you didn’t attach yourself to the ceiling that time.”

Trix looked up at her, a confused look on his face until Arryn tossed him a piece.

“Hey, you bought me a damn family pack, I’m not eating this all myself! Besides, then you’d have me doing this for ages!”

“Doing what-?”

‘POP!’

**

Lithie hurried through the park, looking for the bench Arryn and Trix were supposed to meet at. It had been a while, and she was growing concerned. Her worry grew when she finally came across the park bench only to find it empty.

Then, she heard noise from across the field. Some ways away, Arryn and Trix were running about, Trix trying to keep Arryn from popping her gum, only for her to sneak up behind him and do it again.

Lithie smiled, glad to see the two on better terms, and most of all, to see her sister being genuinely happy again. As she sat down to watch them, her eyes grew heavy. She soon fell asleep on the bench.

And when Arryn and Trix found her, they carried her home, chatting happily like nothing had changed.

[peachesofteaches]

Queen Peaches 🍑 would you bless us with a blurb. Like maybe y/n is studying for uni and it’s taking up a lot of her time so Damon gets all needy and sad but when he shows up she’s having a meltdown bc she’s so stressed and he just babies the fuck out of her and maybe a soft blowjob.

HERE YOU GOO! So cute v fluff. Enjoy

Word count: 2,604 (18+ filth)

Damon stood in the living room of his girlfriend's childhood home, politely dismissing her grandmother to make his way upstairs to her bedroom. The old stairs creak beneath him as he nears her door. It reminds him of when she still lived here before she went to college. He was always intrigued with her, coming to check on her in the middle of the night or press his ear against the wood to listen to her, Caroline, Bonnie, and Elena during a sleepover.

With the end of term approaching, Y/N chose to come home to study. Damon remembers her mentioning how she wanted to spend more time with her grandmother so he didn’t bother trying to coax her into staying at his place. Usually, she comes over for sleepovers almost nightly, but recently she’s been studying in her room, isolating herself from her friends and her boyfriend.

It’s not by choice- he knows. Yet, this is how she handles stress, as unhealthy as it is. He misses her though. Misses the sound of her laugh and her smell surrounding him. The pitter-patter of her feet in the boarding house. Finding locks of her hair everywhere. She hasn’t texted him back all day, or anybody for that matter, and after a long talk with Bonnie about how Y/N stresses herself to the point where she gets sick, he decided to intervene before things got bad.

He hasn’t been up to her old bedroom in years but when he opens her door, it all comes rushing back in an instant. The walls of her room are still painted a faint yellow and fairy lights are strung up across the wall, casting a warm glow across the room. Posters decorated her walls along with an assortment of framed photographs that had gathered dust over the years. Her bedspread was still white, holding a pile of pastel stuffed animals that all stared at him as he walked in the room. His eyes fell on his girlfriend who sat at the white desk facing the window, headphones over her ears, aggressively typing on her computer.

Cold coffee mugs cluttered up the corners of her desk along with assorted pens and pencils and could hear the quiet thrumming of Deftones playing through her headphones. Not wanting to startle her, he picked up a build-a-bear off her bed and threw it against the legs of her chair. Her shoulders tensed before she turned around with a furrowed brow, softening when she saw Damon standing by her window.

She pulled the headphones off her ears, laying them against the keyboard of her laptop. “What did Peach ever do to you?” She said, leaning over to pick up the pink plush bear and hold it against her chest.

Damon smirked and walked over to her, bending down on his knees to kiss her deeply, fingers tangling in her hair. He could feel her body relaxing into the kiss and her hold on the bear loosened until it laid in her lap, staring at Damon with beady, plastic, eyes.

When they pulled apart Y/N’s hand went to her lips, feeling the tingling sensation that arose. “Hey.” She greeted, her cheeks turning a pink tint that blended in with the glow of the fairy lights across her walls.

“Hey.” He responded, bringing his hands to rest on her knees where he squeezed assuringly. “How’s the studying going?” He peered over to the computer, finding a written essay on a google doc. The side of the document was heavy with comments and edits made at different points during the day.

She sighs, glancing at her laptop. “I finished my research paper. I’m just trying to edit it now.”

“You finished everything else though?”

She nods quietly, blinking at the words on the screen. He draws her eyes back to him by swiveling her desk chair back and forth. “What's wrong, cutie?” He juts out his lower lip when he finds tears glistening behind her eyes.

She shakily raises a hand and swipes at her eyes before the tears fall. “I’m just mad. At myself. Nothing sounds good and I used the word ‘and’ too much. It sounds stupid.”

“How long have you been working on this?”

“Seven hours.” His mouth falls open at her answer. He doesn't know why he’s surprised. Her eyes are squinting and she’s worked a wrinkle between her eyebrows from staring at the computer so intensely. He wishes she would wear her glasses while she was working, but she’s always losing them and never wants to wear them. Her lip quivers as she snaps shut the lid of the laptop. “It’s awful.”

Tears fall from her eyes, marking up her doll-like cheeks in wet trails.

“Awh, baby.” He draws her in for a hug, wrapping his arms around her torso when her head falls to his shoulder. Her shoulders quiver with the oncoming sniffles and tears that prick at the cotton of his shirt. “Shh, shh. You’re under a lot of pressure right now and you’re probably really tired. Hmm?”

She doesn't answer, just cries into his shoulder letting the weight of the stress she’s holding melt onto her boyfriend. He holds her steadily, slightly rocking them side to side as she works to calm herself down.

“Listen,” he said, taking her face into his hands. “Let’s get you cleaned up and take a little nap. I’ll wake you up in an hour so you can get back to work, ok?”

“No-” She protests before Damon holds up a finger, hushing her retort.

“Ah-Ah. How about tomorrow we can go bother old Stefan and get him to read your paper before you turn it in? He’s always been better at that kind of stuff than I am. Then after we can go see a movie, or do whatever you want.”

It takes her a minute before she nods with her cheeks squished between his palms, letting her body fall forward when he brings her close for a kiss. “C’mon, now,” Damon says, gently pulling her to her feet by her elbow and wrapping an arm around her waist to steady her as they shuffle into the bathroom.

Under the harsh white light of her bathroom, Damon can see the purple shade underneath her normally bright eyes. Her face looks so dejected and exhausted that it makes his chest twinge with an ache to hold her. They share soft words as Damon hands her a damp washcloth to wipe her tear-stained cheeks with. He combs through her hair with a brush, sighing at the silkiness of her locks. Y/N’s eyes melt closed as he brushes, the soft bristles against her scalp soothing her.

Damon’s got her into a pair of panties and one of his old shirts, which has been hiding in one of her drawers for the past two years. He knows she finds comfort in wearing his clothing, similar to how he finds comfort in smelling hers.

He tugs the hem of the shirt down to her thighs, smiling slightly when she leans into him for support. He strokes her back reassuringly, pecking the fleshy part of her cheek. “Have you eaten anything today?”

She shakes her head against his chest and Damon frowns because if she hasn’t eaten anything today he doubts she’s eaten the other days it’s been like this. “I can’t eat right now… too anxious.” She says, her voice muffled in his chest.

Damon sighs, peeling back the top corner of her white comforter and situating her beneath it. “Then I’ll make you something when you wake up. Deal?”

“Mmm.” She mumbles, stretching out her arms to Damon. “Cuddle with me?”

After kicking off his boots, Damon slips into the bed beside her, instantly bringing her body to his chest. She nestles her nose against the warmth of his throat, her breath soft as she exhales against the skin. They sit in silence for a while, soaking up the warmth of one another. With all the stress of dead week, Y/N has hardly had time to share with Damon. It makes her feel like a terrible girlfriend.

She’s been shut in her room, pouring over term papers and projects, giving them her all, and exhausting herself to the bone. She just wants to do well. Wants to be proud of herself. The thought of school has her tensing again and her ever-so-aware boyfriend notices, beginning to massage between her shoulder blades.

“Just relax, baby. I got you.” He assures her, dropping sweet kisses onto her hairline. His body feels so warm and sturdy beneath her that it spreads an all-too-familiar feeling throughout her body. His hands are rubbing gentle patterns into her skin as arousal grows in her abdomen. She shuffles a bit on his chest before she lifts her head, peering at him through the layers of hair in front of her face.

“You should try to sleep.” Damon’s voice is gravely, she can hear sleepiness in it. She sits up so her legs straddle his hips.

“I just want- I want to-” Tears prick at the corners of her eyelids and need bubbles in her chest so harshly she feels like she might go into a fit. “I want to suck you off.” The words slip from her quickly before she can catch him. Usually, Damon’s having to coax her wants out of her with teasing measures except that now she’s too tired to care and she just needs something to hold onto.

Damon rests his hands on her thighs, rubbing his thumb at the skin. Her eyes are beady, glistening in the fairy lights of her bedroom. “Baby, let's get some rest, hmm?” He tries to brush off the subject because he’s worried this is tired Y/N talking and he doesn't want to start anything if she’s second-guessing herself.

“No!” She whines, jutting out her bottom lip. “I don’t want to rest right now, I can’t. I need you.”

His mouth forms a slight ‘o’ o shape when he realizes how she needs him. Soft, coaxing, supportive. He drums at the top of her thigh as a way of giving her permission to situate herself between his legs. Her head comes to rest on his hip bone where her warm breath sends goosebumps along the skin. Damon’s sensitive to her touch right now. They haven’t had sex in a couple of days and it has his mind spinning with filth. As much as he tries to hide how much he’s aroused- this is her show after all- he can’t help the semi that stretches the crotch of his jeans.

With a small hand, Y/N presses her palm against the tent of his pants, squeezing over the bulge and biting down on her bottom lip when Damon cranes his neck against her pillow, his mouth falling open in pleasure. She wants to make him feel good because he does so much for her. He’s patient and understanding. He doesn't see her crying fits over school as silly or naive.

With dainty fingers, Y/N pops open the button on Damon’s jeans earning a soft, relieved, sigh from him. She pushes away the rest of his clothing before taking his dick into her hands, sliding him into her mouth. She sucks and licks at the pinkish tint of his member before relaxing her jaw and filling her mouth.

Damon groans loud, reaching up a hand to brush away the fallen strands of hair that gather in front of her pretty eyes. He wants to watch her face while she sucks him off and his arousal grows when he sees her eyes closed and her face relaxed as she bobs her head. Her head comes up to lick repeatedly at his slit. His hips jolt with her movements, bucking up into the velvety insides of her mouth when she opens up for him again.

“Fuck, baby. You’re so good at that.” He murmurs, composing himself to finger-comb her hair behind her shoulders. One of her hands wraps around the base of his cock, squeezing with two fingers. She gazes up at him through thick eyelashes, taking in his pleasured expression. It urges her on further and she goes so deep that the tip of her nose brushes against the skin above his groin.

He has one hand holding onto her thighs while the other strokes her cheek softly with a thumb. “So good, baby doll. Right there.” He praises her with a soft voice that makes her feel taken care of and small. Her body is warm with the affection that swirls inside of her. She’s already starting to notice how her brain is calming down. She can only focus on Damon and it makes her feel a lot better. She knows she’s doing a good job with this because he’s told her before and his expression is pure bliss.

“You’re so perfect, you know?” He continues stroking her cheek so gently the act alone makes her want to cry. How he can be so gentle while she’s giving him her best head, she doesn't know, but she’s not complaining one bit. The reassurances are all part of the fun. “My perfect girl. I love you so much.”

She moans around him, feeling the wetness of precum slipping down her throat. He gives her little warning about his incoming orgasm, panting at her to get off before he comes but she stays where she is, continuing her pulse until he’s coming hard into her mouth. Spurts hit the back of her throat, coating her mouth in the stickiness that tastes sweet yet bitter at the same time. She swallows the cum gratefully before she pops off, a string of spit stretching from his tip to her mouth.

She smiles as she wipes her mouth with the back of her hand. “Holy shit, babe.” She crawls up beside the bed, situating herself on her side in the crook between his arm and his torso. “You don’t want a turn?” He asks, gazing at her tender expression. She shakes her head, blinking sleepily.

“No, I just want snuggles.”

He finds her lips and takes them to his, kissing her passionately. He can still taste himself on her lips, they’re sticky and he wants to coax her into the bathroom to brush her teeth but her eyes are growing heavier by the second and soon, she’s asleep.

~*~*~

He’s done some tidying up around the room, took down the coffee mugs that crowded the surfaces in her room once he made sure her grandmother was sleeping in her bedroom. He unplugged the fairy lights and switched on her bunny nightlight, tucking Peach beneath her arm then situated himself in bed beside her, stroking her back. Then, as promised, he wakes her up an hour later. Something tells him she won’t be waking up to edit her paper but he does it anyway to avoid her being upset with him later.

“Hey, baby girl.” He coos, playing with her hair until her eyes peel open slightly. The bunny night light casts a pink glow across her face that she turns away from, burying her face back into his chest. “It’s been an hour, do you want to get up?”

“No.” She pouts, sleepily pushing his shirt off his body. “Can you spend the night?”

He takes off his shirt and pushes off his jeans. He knows she likes the feeling of his skin against hers. It’s warm and smells like Damon. He situates himself on his back, pulling her close once more. “Sure.” He agrees, his whispers landing against her cheek.

#yeah #this was fun #obsessed with teen bedrooms in #film #so I had to write about one #damon salvatore #tvd damon #tvd #the vampire diaries #tvd fanfiction #damon x reader #damon x y/n #damon salvatore smut #damon salvatore x reader #tvd smut

[robininthelabyrinth]

Unfettered (aka NHS goes feral) - part 4 - previous parts: on ao3 or tumblr pt 1, pt 2, pt 3

-

Wei Wuxian wasn’t going to lie: it was weird seeing Nie Huaisang smiling again.

It wasn’t that he didn’t remember how Nie Huaisang used to behave when they were all back at the Cloud Recesses, and even before, but that seemed so long ago these days that it might as well have occurred in a past life. The expression just didn’t fit him anymore, like a grown man trying to return to the clothing of his childhood, and yet at the same time it was wretchedly familiar, even welcome – it was as if time had reversed course all at once, plucking them all out of the stream of their lives and returning them to how it used to be long before. Back to simpler, happier times.

It was kind of funny, actually.

Those that had not known Nie Huaisang as anything other than the Pallbearer seemed to be in a state of utter shock, gossiping madly – Did you see? He was smiling! He laughed at someone’s joke! He told a joke! He patted that child on the head and said ‘good job’ and the child didn’t cry even once!

Those that had known him from before only by reputation were, if anything, even more aghast – Do you think he’s going to start pouting and crying at things again? Surely not, I can’t even imagine! The last time he pouted was when one of his fans got stained, remember, after he stuck it straight through that man’s throat –

Those that had known him from before in person…

Well, the reaction was mixed. There was some relief, some distress, and a great deal of pain as they remembered once again how much their friend had changed in the wake of his brother’s near-death – the reminder of his former self was both nostalgic and bittersweet.

Personally, Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji were working through their feelings on the subject with the help of a lot of roleplaying involving their time at the Cloud Recesses. It was very healthy of them, emotionally, although maybe not so healthy for the state of Wei Wuxian’s waist. Or throat. Or hands…

(No, they weren’t officially married yet, since they were still hoping that they could have a proper ceremony when the war ended, but they were both of age and engaged. And that meant they could go to bed together, no matter what some of the more conservative Lan sect members thought – with Lan Qiren backing them up, which he did with no small amount of eye-rolling and deep sighs and long-suffering resignation, they were free to do as they pleased.)

That, too, was something they owed to Nie Huaisang.

Without Nie Huaisang’s timely intervention, both Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng would’ve fallen for the Jin sect’s instigation and turned against each other in an act of mutual destruction that harmed both of them, and everyone else besides. Jiang Cheng would have cut off his own right arm, voluntarily weakening his sect just at the moment when they needed strength the most, and rendered himself without any other choice but to be dependent on Lanling Jin, while Wei Wuxian would have remained trapped in the Burial Mounds in Yiling, getting called the Yiling Patriarch as some people still today did, growing ever more resentful at his isolation and poverty.

(That one uncomfortable month he’d spent arguing with Wen Qing and Wen Ning about whether they should try to grow radishes or potatoes had been very educational, especially since they were both not-so-secretly convinced that the argument was futile and that nothing would ever grow on the Burial Mounds, such that they were just whiling away time until they all starved to death.)

They would be scattered, weakened, unhappy and vulnerable. Wei Wuxian would be sitting there like a giant target until the Jin sect decided, in their leisure, to deal with him the way, in hindsight, they had so obviously always intended to.

Wei Wuxian would have missed his sister’s wedding, probably. He might even have missed Jiang Yanli’s widowing, and the consequences of that were unthinkable.

If Wei Wuxian hadn’t brought the Wen sect back with him to the Lotus Pier as a result of Jiang Cheng’s defiance of the cultivation world’s criticism, Wen Qing and Jiang Yanli would never had the chance to hit it off the way they had, becoming fast friends. If they hadn’t been friends, Wen Qing wouldn’t have been visiting Jinlin Tower to check up on her good friend when the news of Jin Zixuan’s death had first spread.

His murder, rather – Wei Wuxian wasn’t terribly clear on the details, but it wasn’t really necessary. Jin Guangshan had pressed his legitimate son’s filial piety to the breaking point in his pursuit of power, and finally he must have done something to go too far, to cause there to be a real break between them. Jin Zixuan must have made clear that he would not play along, no matter what, and by that point Jin Guangshan already knew there was Jin Guangyao waiting in the sidelines to step up and take his place. There was no other way it could have gone, simply because there was no other reason for both Jin Zixuan and his mother to so conveniently die on the very same day.

If it hadn’t been for Nie Huaisang convincing Jiang Cheng, Wen Qing wouldn’t have been there. Wen Qing wouldn’t have been available to be bold and decisive, the way she was with her medicine; she wouldn’t have been able to persuade Jiang Yanli of the possibility of danger and then to smuggler out of Jinlin Tower and take her on the run in disguise, long before it occurred to anyone else that there might be some threat to her – that the Jin sect might decide to hold her hostage, or worse.

Definitely worse. If Jin Guangyao had had the chance to figure out what only Wen Qing had known back then – that Jiang Yanli, barely more than a newlywed, already carried the next heir to Lanling Jin within her belly…

Jin Guangyao’s ambitions would never have let Jin Zixuan live, a fact they’d all only realized in horrible helpless hindsight, but if Wen Qing had been trapped in Yiling with Wei Wuxian at the time, instead of visiting Lanling, then Jiang Yanli…

Wei Wuxian didn’t even want to think of it.

So, really, it was only fair that Nie Huaisang, who had whether intentionally or incidentally saved so many of them these past few years, finally, finally get what he’d been dreaming of all these years: his brother’s return.

It was only fair that he be allowed to return to being happy.

And yet, at the same time –

“You need to go talk to him,” Jiang Cheng said. His arms would be crossed in front of his chest if he wasn’t currently holding a sleeping Jin Ling, who’d had something of a fright upon meeting the new and improved Nie Huaisang. The poor kid had been convinced that his habitually bitter and vicious Second Uncle Nie was possessed by some sort of fierce but bizarrely friendly ghost. “There’s a war on, for fuck’s sake. He can’t spend all his time haunting the Unclean Realm trying to pretend that he’s something he’s not in order to keep his brother from finding out that he’s changed!”

“It’s not as bad as all that,” Wei Wuxian objected. “I mean, Nie Huaisang’s always run most of the war through correspondence, anyway, and it’s not like we’re totally helpless without him to boss us around.”

“His absence hasn’t been noted by our enemies just yet,” Wen Ning murmured. His arms were similarly full with Wen Yuan – a little older than his friends, steadier and more mature, but a sympathetic crier, and spending a month of his childhood in the Burial Mounds made him more susceptible to fears of possession, not less, so he’d been set off by Jin Ling. And seeing them both in tears had, of course, made poor level-headed Jin Rusong, who didn’t cry easily at all, panic and try to help in a way that only made it worse; Xiao Xingchen had swept him away to the kitchen, and the two of them were currently making snacks for the other two when they woke up. “But it will be, soon. They are already puzzled by the change in tactics.”

Wen Ning’s voice was as soft as ever, his stutter subdued only by the fact that he was with company he liked, but his tone brooked no argument – he’d changed a lot since their youth, too, and knew more intimately than most how some things could not be undone.

The Jin sect, not content with merely killing him, had dubbed his resurrected self ‘the Ghost General’ in an attempt to incite the cultivation world into hating and fearing him. It had been a lie back then, when he’d been doing nothing more than planting radish seeds and babysitting, but now Wen Ning was a general in truth, the leader of their archers and one of Nie Huaisang’s right hands. He was still shy, still didn’t speak fluently and probably never would, but Nie Huaisang had assigned him several capable deputies who understood him even when he had to resort to the type of hand-signs used by the deaf or in covert situations. He was surprisingly popular with the cultivators on their side of the war, although Wei Wuxian acknowledged that perhaps his popularity shouldn’t be that much of a surprise: there was a certain morale-boosting effect in seeing your general continuing to fight even after being struck with enough arrows to create a porcupine.

“Being puzzled by a change in tactics is fairly run of the mill for any enemy facing Nie Huaisang,” Wei Wuxian pointed out.

“Which is why they haven’t noticed it yet, Wei-gongzi. But eventually…”

Wei Wuxian grimaced. “Is it really that dire?”

“Not yet,” Lan Wangji said ominously, and – fine. If even Lan Wangji thought that someone should talk to Nie Huaisang, Wei Wuxian would go and talk to him.

After all, they were old friends of long acquaintance.

Very long, even.

“I come bearing terms of peace,” Wei Wuxian announced, walking into Nie Huaisang’s study and waving a few jars of wine at him. “Come negotiate with me, Nie-xiong!”

“I don’t recall giving you permission to barge into my room,” Nie Huaisang said without looking up from his correspondence, a little flash of the vicious Pallbearer they’d all grown painfully accustomed to – he had his family’s temper but a cooler head, with rage that burned low and long rather than flaring up hot and burning out.

Wei Wuxian reflected once more on how apt Nie Huaisang’s personal title was. The foolish thought that it referred to the filial piety he showed in mourning the brother that raised him since childhood, the somewhat wiser to the way the attack on Nie Mingjue had forced Nie Huaisang to find the virtue he had previously lacked, but the really smart ones knew that the most accurate interpretation was that those that Nie Huaisang chose to accompany to their end would ultimately find themselves without any path forward but death.

Nie Huaisang’s cultivation was still nothing special, his ability to fight virtually non-existent beyond the most basic of saber forms – a saber he now carried with him often enough, but still almost never used – and he’d rejected Wei Wuxian’s very innovative idea (if he did say so himself) that he try to train with a war fan, both on the basis of it being both too much effort and furthermore thoroughly lacking in aesthetic. As a result, he had no particularly notable talents, and none that could allow him to triumph in a night-hunt or a duel.

It didn’t make him any less terrifying.

“You’ll forgive me,” Wei Wuxian said flippantly, and sat down next to him, looking at the words that filled the page with Nie Huaisang’s lovely, artistic calligraphy. “More spy stuff?”

Nie Huaisang’s lips curled up into a small smirk. “Naturally. The network never sleeps, as you well know. I assume you’ve been sent to scold me about the war?”

“Amazing,” Wei Wuxian said, and nudged him in the side with his elbow. “It’s almost like you have a brain in your head or something. Since you’ve guessed it, I don’t even know what more I need to say…how’s Chifeng-zun doing?”

That got Nie Huaisang’s face to soften, as he’d hoped it would. “Much better. He’s been sleeping and waking consistently, and the mobility exercises are working well, though of course he’s insisting on trying more than he can manage. He only just managed to walk across the room without stumbling yesterday, had to sit down right away after, and he’s already asking about saber training.”

That was very in character for Nie Mingjue.

“I’m glad,” Wei Wuxian said, meaning it with all his heart. “I missed da-ge.”

He owed him so much, after all.

So much more than most people knew.

It had been Nie Mingjue who had found him all those years ago, in the dark days when his parents had died in a night-hunt gone wrong and the money they’d left with the innkeeper turning out to be insufficient to keep him housed or fed for more than a fortnight. Wei Wuxian had been a spoiled, beloved child – even if his parents were rogue cultivators, his father originally a servant, they were famous; there wasn’t a town that didn’t welcome them with open arms. They had never lacked for money, for warmth and comfort.

Wei Wuxian might have had a chance if they’d died in the spring or summer. He might have been able to learn to sleep on the streets during warm nights and used those rich fat months to learn from all the other beggars how to eat refuse, but his parents had died in the winter. Even the beggars chased him away, unwilling to spare the smallest scrap of food or lose any bit of warmth by sharing the spots they had found to shelter from the cold; and when he went to the richer districts that had once greeted his parents with such enthusiasm, wild dogs were sent to chase him away, vicious and merciless…within a week, he had been very nearly dead.

Luckily, when hiring rogue cultivators turned out to be insufficient to deal with the problem, the miserly local landlord that had sent out the notice in the first place had finally given in and written to a Great Sect, begging for aid – as a rich man, he was obligated to contribute to the costs of a requested night-hunt, and the Great Sects, while generally more successful, were typically far more mercenary in that regard than rogue cultivators – and Nie Mingjue had come with his Nie sect, the most willing by far to do the work of defeating evil without charging too much for the privilege.

He’d found the bodies of Wei Wuxian’s parents.

Soon after, he’d found Wei Wuxian himself.

Wei Wuxian had been about seven, then. It had been a full two years before Jiang Fengmian had found him on the very same streets, hiding in the trash with a dirty face and a sad and miserable expression, ready to be picked up and taken home by his father’s old friend, the Sect Leader of Yunmeng Jiang.

Just as anyone might’ve predicted.

After all, Nie Mingjue had never stinted on sending out spies, even if he never used them.

(He’d released Wei Wuxian of all those old obligations long ago – but Nie Huaisang never had.)

“Da-ge passes along his thanks, by the way,” Nie Huaisang said. “He thinks the array you created to help preserve his life is brilliant.”

“It is brilliant,” Wei Wuxian said, shameless as always. Getting a truly vicious scolding from his little master Nie Huaisang about exactly how close to the line his arrogance had brought him and the Wen sect had humbled him a bit, and the disaster of the Stygian Tiger Seal nearly going out of his control at the Nightless City not long thereafter had humbled him still more, but in the end he was still Wei Wuxian. He was awesome. “Could anyone else have done what I did?”

Nie Huaisang rolled his eyes.

“He’s not angry at me for misusing Baxia?” Wei Wuxian asked, fishing for confirmation. If there was one thing that his two years in the Nie sect had taught him, it was a near-pathological revulsion at the thought of touching another person’s spiritual weapon – he’d been very nearly more excited to be allowed to put his hand on an unsheathed Bichen than Lan Wangji’s dick, although not quite – and Nie Mingjue was quite justifiably more paranoid than most on the subject.

Even that treacherous dog Jin Guangyao hadn’t dared touch Baxia. The spiritual poison he’d used on Nie Mingjue had been limited to the man himself, and that had been what gave Wei Wuxian the idea for the array he’d invented. Nie Mingjue cultivated with Baxia as his primary, if not only, spiritual weapon, and the disciples of the Nie sect were closer to their sabers than most – and by the end of the Sunshot Campaign, Baxia was a fearsome entity in her own right, possessed of her own spiritual energy.

And as he’d always said, energy was meant to be used.

There was something about the Nie sect’s cultivation style that reminded Wei Wuxian of his innovations in demonic cultivation, although it wasn’t quite the same. They didn’t manipulate resentful energy directly the way he did, but they still made use of it, refining their blades with it until the sabers were very nearly guai, cultivating saber spirits filled with a lust for blood – although the strict disciplines of the Nie sect cultivation path meant that every saber spirit that Wei Wuxian had ever had the fortune (or misfortune) to personally encounter just as absolutist in their disdain for evil as their masters.

Even Nie Huaisang’s saber Aituan was like that, and maybe that should have been Wei Wuxian’s first hint that Nie Huaisang wasn’t as simple as he appeared on the surface.

“It’s fine,” Nie Huaisang assured him. “Really. Da-ge said it was – how’d he put it – a charming contradiction, that his saber get used to cultivating energy for him rather than him for the saber. Though maybe he was just relieved that she was intact, given everything.”

Wei Wuxian grinned and toasted Nie Huaisang, drinking a little of the wine while Nie Huaisang continued with his correspondence.

They sat in comfortable silence for a little while.

“I’m not pretending,” Nie Huaisang said abruptly, and Wei Wuxian, who’d drifted off into daydreams involving him, Lan Wangji, and a very sturdy bathtub, turned to look at him. “I know what Jiang Cheng thinks –”

“Of course you do. I tell you what Jiang Cheng thinks.”

“Shut up, you – you calamity. I don’t need you to tell me what Jiang Cheng thinks, he tells me himself more often than not. He thinks that I’m pretending to be useless because I don’t want da-ge to know about everything I’ve done, but that’s not the case at all. He knows. I wouldn’t keep it from him.”

“I know,” Wei Wuxian said, because he did. Even at his most lazy and self-indulgent, Nie Huaisang abhorred the thought of lying to his brother. “But you are spending too much of your time in the Unclean Realm. We need you back in the field.”

Nie Huaisang scowled. “The cream of the cultivation world,” he said disdainfully. “Can’t they do anything by themselves, just for a few short months? You’d think my brother fought the entirety of the Sunshot Campaign by himself with how little they seem to contribute.”

“Personally, I think that everyone has just taken the Nie sect as lucky cats, and are afraid to do without you,” Wei Wuxian said, batting his eyelashes at him in his most provoking show of earnestness. “Nie-xiong, if I rub your head, does that mean I’ll win my next battle…?”

“Don’t you dare,” Nie Huaisang said, but the scowl receded and he looked amused again. “I can’t wait to send da-ge out on the battlefield again.”

“The Jin sect will trample each other in their eagerness to get off the battlefield rather than face Chifeng-zun,” Wei Wuxian agreed, and couldn’t help his own smile at the thought. “The rumors that he’s returned have already started spreading like wildfire, but you’ve done well to hide him away so thoroughly. It means no one knows if the rumors are right or if you’re just pulling some kind of trick on the world.”

“Who, me? A trick?” Nie Huaisang said, and smiled thinly. “I only wish I could’ve seen the look on that treacherous dog’s face when his spies reported on my unusual behavior. I hope he’s afraid.”

Wei Wuxian agreed.

He had tried many times to imagine doing what Jin Guangyao had done. To turn your hand against the man to whom you had sworn to love as a brother –

He couldn’t even imagine hurting Jiang Cheng like that, and Jiang Yanli even less.

Wei Wuxian owed Nie Mingjue his life. He had sworn fealty to him with all the passion and singlemindedness of childhood, and had never once regretted it. Nie Mingjue had taken him off the streets and brought him back to his sect, he’d taken back his parents’ bodies and buried them with full (if private) honors, he’d given Wei Wuxian training to make him strong and smart and capable. He’d sent him to do work in a place where he would prosper and thrive and be happy, and all the while promised that he would never be trapped – that he would have a way out if the Jiang sect became too suffocating or he was treated too viciously, on one hand, and on the other told him that he could one day petition to be released from his obligations to the Nie sect if he ever found them too demanding.

Wei Wuxian had asked to be released from those obligations after the fall of the Lotus Pier, unable to stomach the idea of reporting on Jiang Cheng now that he was all alone in the world in the way that he had so effortlessly reported on Jiang Fengmian and Madame Yu. Nie Mingjue had granted the reprieve without a second’s hesitation, even though it meant wasting the years and years of investment they’d put into him, even though it would have been a critical moment to have an ear within the Jiang sect’s camp.

Wei Wuxian owed Nie Mingjue everything.

And yet – if the man had asked him to kill Jiang Cheng, he would have said no.

Twin heroes, he’d promised Jiang Cheng, and if for a while he’d thought he would have to give up that promise because of the secret of the golden core that he still kept hidden away, he refused to think it any longer. Jiang Cheng was his brother in all but blood, in all the ways that mattered. Wei Wuxian would stand aside from him if he thought he had to, as he had with the Wen sect remnants; he would keep secrets from him, he would even deceive him, but he would never willingly seek to hurt him.

Jin Guangyao, though? He had attacked Nie Mingjue without even being asked.

He was like some rabid beast, a white-eyed wolf, Wei Wuxian thought. Utterly beyond his understanding.

He deserved to be afraid.

“Speaking of which,” he said, suddenly remembering. “I think I’ve figured out why Jin Guangyao was willing to kill his own heir to further his and his father’s ambitions.”

“About time,” Nie Huaisang said, and while his tone was stern Wei Wuxian was mostly sure that he was teasing. “I put you on that job months ago. What do you think I keep you around for? Your brilliant inventions? Your armies of corpses? Your amazing ability to stun irritating sect leaders into silence with your overwhelming shamelessness regarding Lan Wangji –”

“Let’s not talk about that,” Wei Wuxian said hastily, although the giant grin he couldn’t keep off his face said everything about his shame – or lack thereof – relating to that last one. You get caught doing one little roleplay about the fearsome demonic cultivator Yiling Patriarch being arrested by the righteous cultivator Hanguang-jun and suddenly no one wanted to look you in the eye anymore… “Anyway, according to all the rumors, you keep me around because you want me to raise your brother the way I raised Wen Ning.”

Nie Huaisang rolled his eyes. “I’ve heard that one, and I still can’t believe anyone believes it. Da-ge’s a sect leader! Even if you wanted to bring him back, think about the amount of resentment he would have had to feel at his death to rise up again despite all the soul-calming rituals he’s gone through! If he ever became that resentful, he wouldn’t rise up as a ghost general, he’d be a ghost king, and then we’d all be screwed.”

Nie Huaisang wasn’t wrong. Nie Mingjue was one of the most powerful cultivators living – if he rose as a fierce corpse, he’d be able to slaughter an entire village of common people overnight with just the energy in one hand. And if he were then allowed access to Baxia, her power added to his…he’d become a scourge on the world, a true calamity, and they’d need to find a way to appease his anger and somehow lock him away forever just to survive.

Assuming Nie Huaisang allowed something like that, anyway. Wei Wuxian was very happy they had never been forced to face the question of whether Nie Huaisang preferred his brother or his morality, as he suspected no one would like the answer to that. Not even Nie Huaisang.

“Enough speculation,” Nie Huaisang said, and Wei Wuxian twitched guiltily even though he knew Nie Huaisang was not, in fact, a mind-reader. “What’s the story with A-Song?”

“You want the long version with all the proof I found to support it or the conclusion?”

“Start with the conclusion.”

“Jin Guangyao couldn’t risk A-Song growing up into a half-wit on account of being a child of incest.”

That actually surprised Nie Huaisang, Wei Wuxian was pleased to see.

“Incest?” Nie Huaisang said wonderingly. “But how – oh, of course. Jin Guangshan and Madame Qin? An affair or rape?”

“Rape while he was drunk, supposedly, though of course we only have the relevant people’s words for that, and they’re not exactly impartial sources. Could’ve been an affair that had unexpected results, not that anyone would ever admit it.”

Nie Huaisang started laughing.

Wei Wuxian really wished he wouldn’t. It wasn’t the sort of happy giggle that he sometimes let out nowadays when he was thinking of Nie Mingjue’s recovery – it was the jagged vicious bitterness of the Pallbearer, through and through.

“Oh, Qin Su, Qin Su,” Nie Huaisang said, wiping tears from his eyes. “I gave you all the chances in the world, you stupid woman. I hope you’re happy with what you chose.”

“Can I ask?” Wei Wuxian said cautiously. “You never said – you just showed up with A-Song, no Qin Su and no explanation…”

“Says the person who adopted A-Yuan all but sight unseen?”

“I lived with him for a month, it’s different,” Wei Wuxian said. “What happened with Qin Su?”

Nie Huaisang shrugged. “Nothing dramatic. She wouldn’t believe me when I told her that her husband was planning on killing her son to frame his enemies, which is reasonable enough given that everyone knows I’m at odds with him. Even when I offered her proof, she said it was just a forgery – that he wasn’t like that, that she knew him, the real him, that she was the only one who really understood him, even though I’d say the whole cultivation world knows the ‘real’ him by now.”

“Irritating, but understandable, I think – he is her husband, the dashing hero that rescued her so valiantly in the Sunshot Campaign and which she defied custom and her parents to marry. So why all the disdain?”

Nie Huaisang’s lips pressed together tightly with disapproval. “I asked her if she was willing to risk losing A-Song just to show her husband that she trusted him, and she said that she was, because it wasn’t a risk at all. Because she knew he loved her too much to do such a terrible thing without a good reason.”

“Without a good reason?” Wei Wuxian demanded. “That’s her son!”

“Don’t you know that they can always have others?” Nie Huaisang said with a sneer, clearly paraphrasing words he’d heard. “They’re young, in love – it’s all my fault that he stopped touching her, apparently. I took Lan Xichen away from him and he’s so upset about it that he can’t come to her bed, but once the world is rid of me, it’ll all go back to the way it should be…”

“I’ll give her that much: she really loves him,” Wei Wuxian said, shaking his head. The delusions of a person in love, he supposed. He hoped that he and Lan Wangji weren’t quite that bad. “She’ll be in for a disappointment. Given what I found out…he’ll never return to her bed or give her children, not in this lifetime.”

“No, he won’t.” Nie Huaisang reached for his fan. “Thank you for this. I’ll think about how to use it.”

“And?” Wei Wuxian prodded.

“And I’ll come back to the battlefield,” Nie Huaisang conceded, looking discontented, and Wei Wuxian smiled smugly. “You can supervise the Unclean Realm in my place.”

“What? No!” Wei Wuxian protested, his smile disappearing at once. “You have Xiao Xingchen –”

“He’s newly blinded, and out of all the cultivators we have available, you’re the most effective at fighting on a stand-alone basis. Think of it as having some time to bond with your mother’s shidi.”

Wei Wuxian didn’t want time to bond with his martial uncle – or, well, he did, he’d been dying for an opportunity to talk with Xiao Xingchen more or less since the man first made his name known in the cultivation world, but Nie Huaisang’s rules were such that no one outside the most trusted inner circles of the Nie sect was allowed in the familial quarters of the Unclean Realm, or even in the Unclean Realm at all. And that meant…

“But – Lan Wangji –”

“Will not die if he’s forced to be abstinent for a little while,” Nie Huaisang said, and oh, it was on.

“Did Qin Su specify the method by which you took Lan Xichen from her husband?” Wei Wuxian asked, crossing his arms. “I was under the impression that you still referred to him as Zewu-jun –”

Nie Huaisang glared.

Too bad – if the Pallbearer didn’t want to get mocked over his crush on the First Jade of Lan, he shouldn’t have let Wei Wuxian find out about the fact that the torch he held for him was still burning hot as ever.

“Perhaps my information is out of date. Tell me, little master, what means of seduction did you employ to convince Zewu-jun to betray his poor sad little A-Yao? Did you work your wicked wiles on him?”

“Wei Wuxian –”

“Did you play his xiao?”

Nie Huaisang let out an ungentlemanly snort and had to cover his face. “Oh no,” he said. “Oh no. Why did you have to give me that mental image? Fuck you, Wei Wuxian.”

“Yeah, well, fuck you too. Abstinent my ass.”

“I think you’ll find that the problem with abstinence is that it’s not your ass,” Nie Huaisang said, shoulders shaking. “That’s kind of the point. Now go tell everyone that I’ll be rejoining them tomorrow.”

“I will relish their groans of despair,” Wei Wuxian said, standing up. He was clearly going to have to take as much advantage that he could of the little time he had with Lan Wangji before being cruelly locked away. “Oh, is there any news on Song Lan?”

“None,” Nie Huaisang said. “He may as well have ascended into the heavens. Don’t tell Xiao Xingchen, he’ll only worry.”

“I won’t, I won’t. As for you – could you try to lighten up on Zewu-jun? Now that da-ge’s awake again?”

Nie Huaisang frowned.

“I’m not saying forgive him,” Wei Wuxian clarified. “Just – you know that da-ge wouldn’t want you to be so mad at him, especially since you still like him and all.”

“I’ll let da-ge decide that, I think,” Nie Huaisang said, and the humor had fled his face entirely. “It was his assassin that Zewu-jun decided to trust and protect, after all.”

Wei Wuxian nodded, accepting the verdict – he disagreed, but he understood – and turning to leave.

He paused at the door.

“Just so you know,” he said, not looking at Nie Huaisang. “Having trusted Meng Yao doesn’t mean you have to be so mad at yourself, either.”

He left before Nie Huaisnag could respond, but he heard something shatter in the room behind him.

#mdzs #wei wuxian #lan wangji #nie huaisang #jiang cheng #wen ning #my fic #my fics #unfettered

[godzillerd]

Resident Evil 8 AU Pt 2: Parenthood Boogaloo??

Former Post Here

To summarize: Ethan takes deal. Miranda goes boom. Village goes boom. Chris is like this is serious. Heisenberg is like no baby for me pls. Ethan is like yeah no absolutely no baby for him pls. Chris is like sorry but baby for him. Didn’t even get a baby shower. Fucking brutal. Hate this place.

RIP pls forgive this obnoxiously long post that will never become a cohesive fic.

Why am I like this. 

My life is a sea of regrets.

Seriously though forgive how all over the place this is - it is literally me vomiting thoughts for sport.

Immediately after leaving the village (what was left of it) Heisenberg headed west with Rose. 

As expected, it took a matter of hours for the Duke to show up bearing gifts. Not much, mind you, but enough. 

He even allowed Heisenberg to start running a tab, despite quibbling that it was a bad business practice. 

For the first year, they were completely off the grid with zero contact with the rest of the world, usually living in ramshackle hunting cabins in the forests of whatever country they happened to be in at the time. Hungary, Austria, Slovenia, and eventually Switzerland. 

Not requiring food or water himself, caring for Rose was relatively easy with some help from Duke. Heisenberg became an old hand at building fires out of nothing.

The whole baby thing did not come naturally to him. In fact, it took over six months for Heisenberg to have any kind of clue as to why the potato might be screaming this time. 

He came very close to just killing it and fending for himself, but after seeing what Rose did to Miranda... it was enough to make anyone hesitant. 

Around eight months in, Duke showed up with a new present: A cell phone. And a secure number. And a delicate observation that Ethan Winters might actually kill Heisenberg if he didn’t call soon. 

Calls with Ethan were an infrequent thing. Ethan passed along pertinent information, but being under heavy monitoring, he didn’t have a lot of private time. 

Heisenberg had less of an excuse, and just genuinely didn’t like Ethan. 

Despite being told about it specifically, Heisenberg missed Rose’s first and second birthdays. She didn’t seem to mind. Ethan did.

Around then, it became obvious that living in the woods, completely cut off from humanity, wasn’t going to work out well for a growing child. 

Did you know electromagnetic energy can really fuck up a bank machine? 

Heisenberg (well, Duke) found a reasonable, small cottage on the outskirts of a village in the south of France. He put together a decent little business selling metalwork crafts that were simple (for him) to build, but could sell for high profit. Horses were a bit of a specialty.

Became the local backwoods crazy rural uncle who can fix anything using anything. 

Ethan managed to pull enough strings to buy himself a four hour window while in France for unrelated business to visit Rose for the first time just before she turned three. 

They agreed to meet in a town about an hour south as Ethan had ‘security concerns’. 

ie. He and Chris both doubted Heisenberg’s ability to blend into a crowd. 

To prove a point because he’s a petty bitch, Heisenberg walked Rose past Ethan five times while Ethan was waiting around for them. Ethan only noticed them when Heisenberg said his name. 

Shaving, showering, a haircut, and new clothes can do a lot for a man. 

Rose did not recognize Ethan and was extremely reluctant to speak to him at all. Eventually, she was coaxed into introducing herself as “Rosalie-Elise”. For reasons beyond Heisenberg’s comprehension, this seemed to have a profound emotional effect on Ethan. 

Aside from occasional visits from Ethan (usually every year or two) it was mostly Heisenberg and Rose against the world. 

Duke did roll through, though less frequently than when they were actively fleeing the village. He was incredibly fond of Rose, after all.

Until Rose turned three, Heisenberg largely saw her as a nuisance - something he was obligated to keep alive for his own sake. 

When she was three, and shortly after they settled in the French House, Rose began picking up on Heisenberg’s mannerisms. Speaking like him, sitting like him, trying to mimic everything he did on a smaller scale...

Overnight she went from a nuisance to the apple of his goddamn eye. 

Heisenberg rarely called Rose by her name unless it was serious. More often than not, she’s ‘Kid’ or ‘Blondie’

By the time she started school, Rose could dismantle, repair, and reassemble most standard engines (with a bit of help). She was also shaping up to be a mean little welder.

She also picked up a bad habit of swearing (fortunately, only in English)

Rose was raised speaking French almost exclusively, and her English was heavily accented. Heisenberg learned it with great difficulty, but became fluent by speaking only French for years.

Despite being happier by himself, cut off from other people, Heisenberg deliberately put in the effort to appear as ‘normal’ as possible. 

He never claimed to be Rose’s father - to her or to anyone else. Instead, he called himself her crazy uncle and left the gossip-mongers to come up with a story about her parents. 

Ethan was mockingly referred to as ‘Brother’ every time he called or visited, though. 

When Rose was six, Heisenberg gave her a watered-down version of what happened in the village. 

Watered down for him, at least. 

Rose had nightmares for six months. 

In the midst of that fun time, Ethan gave them a warning that the BSAA was starting to suspect something, so they up and disappeared in one night. 

This pattern continued for years, destroying any chance of Rose having a ‘normal’ childhood. 

Despite that, she developed a startlingly good mindset about things. Influenced by Heisenberg, Rose grew up with a tendency towards independence and isolation, with a hell of a lot of self-confidence and pride to boot. She never particularly enjoyed being around other children, even when she had the opportunity. She preferred staying close to Heisenberg whether it was necessary or not. 

Being an obnoxiously touch-motivated brat, Rose spent most of her childhood hanging off his neck, or flopped over his shoulders, or literally hugging him while he was juggling hot metal. Heisenberg gave up caring when she was about four and by the time she was five he didn’t really notice it at all. He often sprawled on the couch just so the kid could nap on him and catch up on sleep. 

After learning the truth about the village, Rose never did sleep particularly well at night - especially not alone in her room. Most nights, Heisenberg would sit next to her bed until she fell asleep. Sometimes even all night. 

Again, likely influenced by Heisenberg, Rose grew to dislike Ethan as time wore on. Despite her solid relationship with Heisenberg, most of their arguments were about Rose seeing Ethan. 

Heisenberg understood that their safety relied on Ethan being on good terms with both of them. Rose “didn’t give a fuck”

They reached a compromise eventually that Ethan was only ever promised one hour with Rose. If she wanted to leave after that, it was her choice. Similarly, Heisenberg let her set the boundaries about hugs and calling Ethan her father. 

Needless to say, Ethan stopped getting hugs by the time Rose was ten, and he was never called her dad. 

On the other side of things, Rose adored the Duke just as much as he adored her. Whenever Duke was in their neck of the woods, he made a special point to track them down in order to give Rose extravagant gifts. 

Puberty was a hell of a time.

A hell of a time

Rose manifested a massive amount of power in the span of six months when she was thirteen. Around the same time she discovered her love of girls, teenage rebellion, and sticking it to the man.

During one rip-roaring fight when she was fourteen, Rose sent Heisenberg through not one, nor two, nor even three walls. She sent him through five.

Somehow, that incident was enough to curb the rising tide of teenage hormones and got them both back on track.

Heisenberg always struggled with knowing how much or how little to tell Rose about their predicament. On one hand, Ethan hated the idea and thought it would destroy her entire childhood. On the other hand, Heisenberg disliked the idea of lying to the kid. 

Eventually, circumstances were such that there was no choice but to tell Rose everything in order to stay safe. By the time she was twelve, she had a pretty good idea about everything that had happened in the past. 

Mostly because Ethan assumed he wouldn’t do it, Heisenberg also told her all about himself.

Surprisingly (or maybe not so surprisingly, after so many years) it didn’t change much. She tried to use it as ammunition during a few teenage tantrums, but when she realized it didn’t phase him, it was never really brought up again. 

#Is this chronological #What is chronological #RE8 #RE8 AU #Resident Evil 8 #Resident Evil 8 AU #Resident Evil Village #Resident Evil Village AU #re8 heisenberg #Re8 Alternate Ending #re8 fanfiction #Re8 Rose #karl heisenberg #Rosemary Winters #re8 headcanons #re8 the duke #re8 ethan winters #Ethan Winters

[candreloup]

Hey! I heard you were looking for asks so I was hoping you could write about a hero with social anxiety who everyone thinks is shy, but in reality they actually have a lot to say and they are super sweet and considerate. And if their nemesis could be a suave villain who knows them better than anyone (and maybe even has a soft spot for them) then that would be amazing. Have a good day!

I am having a good day, thank you!(maybe it's because of your well-wishes :D) Have fun with this one too, this prompt looks super interesting. I'm excited to write it! Also I'm trying to write at least one snippet every day, but I might miss some days(depends on amount of stuff that day, inspiration, etc)- but for the summer I can actually have a consistent schedule! (Ignore the fact that today's is a bit late, haha) But anywho- on to the story!(wow that's like my catchphrase now)

Edit: also i have realized this may not be exactly what the original ask is about... so I think I'm going to do another one mor accurate to the request hehe

Hero gazed out of the window, staring into the rainy drizzle outside. It was a gray day, overcast and chilly with just the right touch of gloomy. The perfect day to sit inside with a cup of tea and listen to music. Instead, Hero was stuck inside, waiting for the rain to abate and sweating in the too-warm room. The temperature was just a touch too high, barely a few degrees over comfortable. It was a nice gesture, but in someone's over-eagerness to please, they had switched the discomfort to the other side. Oh well. Hero thought. At least the rain seems to be stopping soon.

The rain in question was slowing to a drizzle, the sky lightening and the sun beginning to peek out of the dissolving clouds. The inside was beginning to swelter, filling with heat faster than the dripping rain could cool it off.

Hero thought, "Here it comes."

The next few seconds came in flashes, going in and out of Hero's field of perception. The door slams. Flash. Windows shatter. Flash. A sweet smell drifts through the broken windows. Flash. A smooth voice fills Hero's head. Flash.

"Hello, Hero. It's nice to see you again."

It was over before Hero knew it. The sudden storm of sound, sight and smell flooding Hero's senses vanished in an instant, whirlpooling back into the singular figure in the center of the room, sitting languidly on a velvety chair. Villain.

Hero walked forward mechanically, feeling... numb. It had been years since they'd seen Villain, long before they became "Villain" and ceased to be "Friend". Hero could remember, clear as day, when that familiar face had appeared on the TV screen of the cold cafeteria. Along with a headline that read, "Dangerous criminal at large: 9 dead in lethal attack on Organization." And when the alarms started to wail, filling Hero's muddled mind with even more confusion. They'd struggled to process it, at first; it took them longer than it perhaps should have to realize that that smiling young child was no longer so young, and definitely no longer smiling. No. Instead they looked angry, resentful at the world for the cards they'd been dealt. Not like before. Not like before, when despite all the hardship and suffering that had been thrown their way, Friend had still seemed to love life. To cherish it and fill it with as much happiness as they could, as if to make up for the lost joy in other places.

What happened to you, my friend?

That all vanished into nothingness when Hero saw Villain sitting in front of them, fiddling with some small trinket in their fingers. Waiting. Waiting for what? Hero wondered, staring at the different, but still recognizable face. Waiting for... for...

Villain looked up. Hero stopped, waited along with Villain. What are they waiting for? Villain spun the trinket in their fingers and with a deft movement flicked it back into the dark recesses of their jacket.

"Waiting for you, Hero." Hero flinched. That was new. Hero sighed. They hadn't bothered to do research on Villain. Stupid! They'd been so naïve, believing that this clearly changed person sitting in front of them would still act the same, talk the same. But it was too late for that. All that they could do now was grasp at the small thread they had, hope beyond hope that they could figure out a way to bring Villain back. Now all that was left to do was try to understand, try to puzzle out what happened to that little kid they'd played with. And to try to bring that bright soul back.

"I know what you're thinking." The sudden noise startled Hero, jerked them out of their thoughts.

"Oh?" Hero struggled to stay as neutral as possible. Villain chuckled.

"You're so transparent, Hero. Just like I used to be. A dumb little kid. And you're wondering: What happened?" Hero hid their surprise as best they could. It wasn't enough. Hero could tell, could see the glee in Villain's eyes at Hero's confusion. It was a malicious joy, so different from that happiness they used to have.

"Now you're thinking that I've changed. Again. I did change. That's true. But I'm still the same person."

Hero cleared their throat, struggling for the right words to say.

"...No, you're not."

"Oh yes I am. I'm still 'Friend', even if I"-Villain gestured to their face and body-"changed in appearance. And perhaps personality."

Hero shook their head. "No. The friend I knew would never murder someone. You... you aren't my friend. My friend is gone." The bite in those words seemed to sting Villain, the hurt in their eyes barely visible. But it was quickly covered up and replaced with cold humor.

"O sentimental fool! You really believe your little friend was so great, huh! I almost feel bad for you."

"No. I know my friend was a good person."

"Ahhhh, you knew your friend so well! I see. Then tell me this, Hero. How is it that you never knew where your little friend lived? Or chose to ask? And how is it that you never noticed the deadness in their eyes or the tear stains on their cheeks? Tell me, Hero!" Villain spat. The venom in their voice was audible now, cutting through the smooth, smug tone as Villain glared at Hero. "And tell me, little Hero, how you never saw the bruises and scars on your friend's body? Tell me how you never, not once noticed how isolated, how totally alone your friend felt?" Villain was standing now, advancing slowly towards Hero with rage in their eyes. "Tell me how, Hero. TELL ME!" they half-screamed, standing almost nose to nose with Hero.

Hero kept their calm. Strangely enough, this was almost better than before, better than that slick villain sitting elegantly on the chair. Hero preferred unhinged to silence. "I'm sorry."

"Oh, the little Hero is sorry! Ha! What a joke! Well, little Hero with the oh-so-great-friend, explain to me your reasoning when you left me!!"

Hero snapped. They'd been calm, silent, reasonable this whole time. Kept their cool, kept their patience. Remembered- this is a person in pain. They are in pain because of me. I used to love them.

But the last line was the final straw.

"Oh, Villain, you want to know about leaving??" Hero yelled, standing on their toes and staring directly into Villain's wide eyes. "You want to know about loneliness, about feeling betrayed? You know, Villain, JUST BECAUSE YOU FELT ALONE DOESN'T MEAN I DIDN'T!" Hero screamed, filled with an uncharacteristic amount of rage.

"Hero, calm-"

"NO. For every time you hid things, every time you made me feel like I WASN'T THERE FOR YOU despite my CONSTANT PRESENCE, I'm going to tell you. You want to know, Villain? You REALLY WANT TO KNOW? Every SINGLE time I asked, EVERY TIME I BEGGED AND PLEADED WITH YOU TO TELL ME, you know what you did?"

"Hero-"

"TELL ME, VILLAIN. DO YOU REMEMBER?"

"I-"

"YOU RAN AWAY! So don't sit there, with your chair and suit BULLSHIT, and try and tell me that I WASN'T A GOOD FRIEND. Don't. Do you know how many times I tried, Villain? And god damn, COULDN'T YOU SPARE A SINGLE THOUGHT TO TELL ME? But no, you NEVER SAID A WORD. You just pranced around, acting happy until I left. Because APPARENTLY, EVERY SINGLE THING I THOUGHT I KNEW ABOUT MY FRIEND IS A FUCKING LIE."

Hero was breathing hard, still bubbling with anger. How dare they, how dare Villain accuse Hero of not trying. God knew they tried. Every. Single. Day. But even through all of that Hero had faith in Villain. They'd believed Villain was still good. But then that news report had come out. And now, Hero realized that their entire childhood had been a façade.

"I... I'm sorry." The words were almost a whisper, so quiet Hero could barely hear it. But they still heard it.

"Sorry won't cut it."

"I know."

"You know, Villain? Do you really?"

"I thought I knew."

"I loved you, Villain. I almost still do." Hero whispered into the room, feeling their words bounce off the bare walls. "I loved you..."

Villain looked up from their chair, eyes wide. "...You did?"

Hero started crying softly, tears rolling slowly down their face. "You idiot. You lovable fucking idiot." Villain stood slowly, looking ashamed. "Come here." Hero opened their arms to Villain, sobbing when Villain fell into the comforting embrace. "You idiot. I missed you," they whispered, tears falling onto Villain's shoulder.

"I missed you too," Villain murmured softly, quiet tears gently falling onto the floor.

It sounded like rain.

#hero and villain #hero #villain #hero x villain #villain and hero #villain x hero #crying scene #yelling scene #losing it #anger #screaming #rain #eeeeeee i'm proud of this one #should i make extra scenes hehe #i could totally shatter everyone's hearts right now holy moly i have so much power #this had a different ending but you don't want to know what happened in the other ending

[dykeseinfeld]

u asked someone to remind you to post about your pjo dual protagonist thalia/bianca au and i am SO intrigued by this idea please say more

anon asked: hey queen hope your homework went good yesterday 🌸…now what were you saying about thalia and bianca 😳 ?

ok y’all i’m here...the moment almost none of y’all have been waiting for....bianca/thalia protagonists with alternating pov’s au

warning it’s kind of super long and may or may not read like a 2nd grader’s semi-coherent game of pretend so under the cut it goes!

so the main things you need to know about this au are 1. thalia survives and 2. annabeth’s + luke’s ages are a lil diff bc canon is my sandbox 3. i can’t decide if percy exists in this au or not (maybe y’all can help me decide?)

so the first book:

would start a few months after grover brought thalia (12), luke (13), and annabeth (10, not 7)  to camp half blood. they were chased by monsters sent by hades on the way, and thalia almost didn’t survive, but ultimately she got lucky and managed to send a bolt of lightning through her spear for the first time and they made it into camp

it’s been some time so annabeth is happy as a clam in the athena cabin doing her 10-year-old-with-severe-mommy-issues thing and luke is actually pretty popular with the hermes cabin bc he actually Met Their Dad Holy Shit and also he’s getting pretty good with a sword

at the same time, thalia is alone in the zeus cabin. everyone has been freaking out bc they all saw the huge bolt of lightning that incinerated a couple hellhounds as they made their grand entrance and What The Fuck Child Of The Big Three???

she’s also further isolated because chiron will take her for private training sessions sometimes, since she is clearly really powerful already and also Hades Himself was trying to kill her (chiron told her the reason was the big three’s pledge not to have kids, and maybe about the great prophecy? if he tells her that then she’s sworn to secrecy)

once grover leaves on another protector assignment, thalia mostly hangs out with luke, and annabeth. luke + annabeth both will try to eat meals with her at the zeus table but annabeth doesn’t want to get in trouble and luke is genuinely making friends in the hermes cabin so thalia will feel bad sometimes and send him back

kronos, seeing this bitter isolated child of the big three’s dreams: it’s free real estate

MEANWHILE

hades is Pissed that thalia survived and zeus got to break their oath And get the glory of a prophecy child

so he sends someone to take bianca (12) and nico (10) out of the lotus hotel and casino a little early.

grover is still their protector, but since the Stirring hasn’t begun in earnest yet and hades is lowkey determined to keep them safe, they make it back to camp half blood with no escort/incident

bianca + nico are put into the hermes cabin, and luke kinda takes them under his wing bc while he’s not bitter he still needs therapy bc this 14 year old has never met a pre-teen he couldn’t try to parent

luke introduces nico and annabeth since they’re the same age and they become really good friends!! she Loves mythomagic and he thinks her dagger is super cool and they’re both just really excited about camp <3

bianca is more reserved and resistant to the whole thing, and she wanders around alone exploring and runs into thalia in the zeus cabin

at this first meeting they get into a bit of a fight bc bianca is still in shock/denial about the gods being real, but thalia at this point has zero patience for this

anyway after that and maybe another scuffle during capture the flag or something they hit it off and become best friends in the way girls can, especially bonding over how they’ve both had to take on raising annabeth and nico basically on their own at the age of 12

~QUEST TIME~

thalia is given a quest for [unspecific reason] and chooses bianca and luke, they go off leaving annabeth and nico frustrated at home

quest hijinks etc, bianca is trying to figure out her parentage + her weird mysterious powers? and thalia is arguing with luke because he’s settling into camp/hero life really well actually but she’s getting progressively angrier with the gods for trying to kill her and also keeps getting dreams from kronos and doesn’t get why he doesn’t seem to remember all of the shit that the gods have put him through

bianca + thalia have las-vegas-style-heart-to-hearts where thalia shares her tragic backstory about her mother and her brother and how hades tried to kill her and even about the great prophecy and how she’s trying on this quest bc of that and her dad but at the same time these dreams are making her suspicious that he might’ve been responsible for her mom’s death.

bianca then shares her own stuff, about how terrified she was being on her own with nico having to protect him but also not remembering most of her childhood and not remembering her parents or how she ended up in the care of this lawyer and just the absolute mindfuckery that her memories/past are

luke is asleep in those scenes i guess lol 🧍‍♂️

anyway eventually they finish their quest in this massive climactic battle where bianca discovers her powers in a huge-showy-”i’m the ghost prince”-way and is formally claimed by hades which thalia sees as this Massive Betrayal obviously and bianca is horrified too because she knows what hades did to thalia but at the same time she’s just so happy to finally understand at least part of her past

thalia just reaches a breaking point though because everyone around her just doesn’t understand her anger and just when she thought she had found another sympathetic person who understood what she was going through she joins hades??? no. no fucking way. kronos reveals that he’s the one who has been sending her dreams, prob by sending some messenger who he possesses or smthing and when he offers thalia the chance to join him? she does (dun dun dun)

main beats of the rest of the series:

thalia and bianca on opposite sides of the war training to be the prophecy child, they come together a Lot and have like melodramatic fight scenes where they talk out their anger and try to get the other to join them bc they don’t want to kill each other

luke is extremely conflicted/betrayed and there’s a titan’s curse moment prob towards the end of the third book where they’re fighting and thalia is trying to get her to go with him but here he actually does go to join her (gasp!!) and is evil for at least one book but his heart’s not in it and he goes back to the good side eventually

by the point of luke’s betrayal, annabeth and nico are growing and developing and old enough to go on quests w bianca and by the last book they’re a main trio of sorts and their hypothetical character development is already making me emotional

there’s just a lot of general sexiness with foils and inner conflicts and bianca doesn’t even want to be the prophecy child but she needs to for the fate of the world and bianca is so angry at thalia bc thalia is a daughter of zeus and could control her powers and is perfect and just meant to be the prophecy kid, not some daughter of hades who they didn’t even have a cabin for before

hm maybe by either the last or second-to-last book thalia + bianca are close to reconciling or at least their interests are aligned for the moment and they read the text of the prophecy together and things go Wild bc they both think “single choice shall end his days” either is about luke or nico and it turns up the gas to their fighting both of them care about both of them and yeah

and then i can’t decide if there’s romantic arcs at all but if there were it would go like this:

just a dash of thaluke where at first it was luke having a one-sided crush but thalia misses him a Lot after she goes to kronos and wonders if it’s that she misses him or if it’s something More until to get him to defect there’s like a melodramatic moment in the fight where thalia kisses him and they go off to be Evil Together but it ends bc luke doesn’t believe in the cause and only joined her in hopes of getting thalia back to his side

once luke leaves/is kicked out thalia realizes that she didn’t love luke she just wanted a family and also in the second half of the series she realizes she’s a lesbian as a parallel to her redemption arc

bianca meanwhile is unconcerned w romance until she has her botl-hoe-moment where within one book she 1. runs into the hunters on a quest and has a thing with zoe nightshade who tries to get her to join plus tells her about that time she met thalia, 2. she goes to calypso’s island and falls in love w her in the moonlight or w/e and has her what-if moment, and 3. when they meet up that book thalia somehow knew abt zoe + calypso and seems almost angrier abt them  than the war?? weird bc bianca knows that thalia is Totally Straight right??

my main point is that bianca/thalia is our friends-to-enemies-to-lovers endgame thank you i will take my pulitzer now

#this series is like. if the titan's curse was 5 books long and also specifically catered to 9 year old me #which is very girlboss me <3 #bianca di angelo #thalia grace #thalianca #luke castellan #thaluke #(just a dash. a smidge. for spice.) #annabeth chase #nico di angelo #pjo #keratonin #anon #answered #she speaks