abusive otp


Robron Playlist: [2/?] -> Soldier - Gavin DeGraw
i know you don’t believe it
but i said it and i still mean it
when you heard what i told you
when you get worried i’ll be your soldier

OTP prompt where Person A was a victim of childhood abuse and has a prominent scar somewhere on their arm from a particularly rough night. Person A confides in Person B that whenever they look at the scar, it reminds them of that dark time from their past. Person B then goes out and gets a tattoo of the same design as the scar in the same place A has it. “Now whenever you see it’ll remind you of me” Person B says as they show their new tattoo to Person A. 

there was a different
version of ‘me' 
every two seasons:
a me who hated and fighted,
a me who destroyed herself,
a me who screams and bites,
a me that was happy and cried,
a me that wanted him and her,
a me that got everyone away
and me, I couldn’t keep any.
there was you.
knocking at my door,
stealing my fries and walking me home,
defending me in the streets
and calling me colors, all sky, yours, loved.
in the end, 
you saved a 'me’ i missed having my whole life.
—  you chose me, over the princess of your tale, you chose the dragon. nc.
just to know your name (killerwave)

(because this post just screamed Killerwave to me and I couldn’t resist. this is lowkey highkey for @phynali )

So what if Mick was a little drunk? Or a lot drunk, as the case may have been? They’d gone and saved the world from Vandal Asshole Savage, freed all of time from the Time Bastards, and somehow Team STAR Labs had managed to pull his lifelong best friend and partner in crime out of the wilds of the timestream in one piece. Damn right he was drunk. Most of the Legends and the Flash’s team were. They’d earned it.

When he turned away from the makeshift wet bar Cisco had put together in the lab, holding yet another Southern Comfort and Coke, he saw a goddamn angel standing by the window. She was tall and slender with thick, wavy chestnut-colored hair, delicate shoulders and arms bared by a simple black dress, and the biggest, sweetest brown eyes he’d ever seen. He made his way over to talk to her, ignoring the people laughing and celebrating around them.

“Hey, beautiful. You don’t look like you’re having much fun,” he said, standing at her shoulder.

“I am,” she said, with a smile that looked like it could save a man’s soul. “I’m sorry. I’m not really a party person.”

Mick looked around the room. “Lucky this isn’t really much of a party,” he observed. The woman laughed and leaned a little closer to him. He smiled.

“So tell me, sweetheart. Are you single?” he asked.

The woman laughed softly again, pushing her shiny hair behind her ears, and looked up into his eyes with a gentle smile. “No, actually,” she said. “Sorry to disappoint you.”

“Hmm,” Mick grunted, in the mood to push his luck. “So this man – or woman, could be a woman – they treat you right? They don’t just leave you standing alone at a party after you got dressed up so nice?”

“He’s really great,” she said, looking like she was trying not to laugh. “He’s sweet and funny and he’d definitely want to knock you out if he heard you flirting with me like that –”

Mick felt a hand on his shoulder and froze for a second, ready for a fight if that was the boyfriend coming back to defend his girl’s honor. He turned to see that the man behind him was… Len! His buddy, the one he’d thought was dead! He clapped the man on the shoulder, getting a warning look in return.

“Go home, Mick. You’re drunk,” Len said, sounding amused.

“‘M not that drunk.”

“Mick,” Len said again, raising an eyebrow. “You just asked your own girlfriend if she was single.”

Blessed - Part Two

Second installment of my FenHawke kiddo fic, featuring Anders being the delivery guy and having a civil (!) conversation with Fenris. Please be advised that there are (very vague) descriptions of childbirth and mentions of abuse in the Circle. And also a nice helping of angst with some fluff as seasoning.

Part one here.


Anders was seventeen the first time he delivered a child.

It was the third he saw born in the Circle; the first couple of times, he’d just stood and watched, passing painkilling potions and soft cloths and bowls of water to the more senior healers and scribbling down notes. With the third, Wynne put him in charge, a trial by fire. She and the others would have stepped in, of course, if anything had gone wrong, but it had been about as smooth as a birth can be. By the time it was done, his arms were streaked with blood and Maker knew what else, his head was spinning and his very bones seemed weary, but the child breathed and cried and her mother lived.

He burned with anger through every second of it. Emileen’s baby was a Templar’s – everyone knew it, though no one said it aloud. And there had been no passionate story of forbidden love behind the conception.

It had been hard enough to watch the first two times, when Wynne drew in a breath and murmured to the dishevelled young mother that it was time to let her child go. But this time, when Emileen bent her head to kiss her daughter between sobs, and fumbled to pass the baby into Wynne’s arms with a hoarse request that she should be called Elsa, when Wynne carried the girl over to the watching Templar and handed her over… Anders felt his mind gripped by a thick claw of rage. A Templar forced himself on Emileen. She, in her faith, chose to go through with the birth. She carried Elsa for nine months, nine months of hostile glares and mutterings and heads that quickly turned away. Nine months of shame – and a lifetime to live with the scorn and the pity. And with the agony of knowing that she’d never see Elsa again, that she’d given her daughter over to the very same Order that had brought this down upon her.

Unless, of course, Elsa inherited her mother’s magic and ended up in the Circle. Which would probably be even worse.

There were more mothers after Emileen, for Anders and the spirit healers to help through their births together. Once they lost a child, and once they lost a mother, and he never forgot either of them. Neither did he ever quite rid himself of the feeling of wrongness. A child arriving in the world should be a moment of joy, and yet within minutes of every birth, the Chantry took the baby and Anders and his colleagues were left standing in a room of grief.

If there’s one good thing to be said for his life as the Darktown Healer, it’s that at last, he can see what births are meant to be. The first time he delivered a refugee’s child was the first time he had a terrified father hovering nearby, the first time his patient’s tears as she held her baby were from joy and joy alone, the first time he saw the mother carry her own child away in her own arms to be raised by its own family.

In the Circle, he delivered babies with a team standing right by him to help if anything went wrong. He had the best stock of potions in all of Ferelden close at hand, and his patients were at least going back to soft beds once it was all over. In Darktown, he’s alone – well, except for Justice, who does at least give his spirit healing an extra punch – with only a few pots of ground elfroot and a handful of potions mixed from ingredients he bought on the black market. But a Darktown birth trumps a Circle birth any day.

Anders isn’t quite sure what it’s going to be like, delivering Bryony’s child.

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First of all, Judal is a big whiny kid and I love him

Second of all, he’s such an adorable sap when it comes to Hakuryuu, it pains me. Like. Boy your crush is so obvious, you’re too much.

He obviously puts a lot of faith in Hakuryuu and his abilities though, which is something that not enough people do. Hakuryuu was the forgotten, ignored child but Judal always had such confidence in his ability to become a king and succeed. And as sad as it makes him, he knows that Hakuryuu will keep going and pushing for his goals because that’s part of what makes him so good at what he does.

Judal sees Hakuryuu for what he actually does and fairly accurately predicts what he will do. Even if hurts that he thinks Hakuryuu isn’t going to stop and mourn him, he’s not going to imagine Hakuryuu as what he wants him to be.


ALEX AND JO IN EVERY EPISODE || Readiness Is All (9x23)

No, you grow up! Not everyone’s like you, Alex. People are horrible. And the last time someone grabbed me like Jason did, I–I promised no one would ever do that again. So I’m sorry, but not everyone is like you. Not everyone’s good…And now you think I’m horrible, too.

No, no, I–if you hadn’t gotten to him first, I probably would have killed the guy. 

Why? Why would you do that for me?

Shut up, why wouldn’t I?

okay okay okay but adam has always been so aware of the cycle of abuse (wondering in trb if he’ll grow up to hit his own kid, analyzing his own violent anger towards blue in tdt) and by trk he’s confident enough in his recovery and his differences from his parents and his capacity to love in a healthy way that he not only is willing to try to reconcile with his parents (because he knows he’ll never be like them and never has to let them hurt him again), but he gets into a serious relationship with ronan and takes on a fatherly role towards opal and the only apprehension he shows over any of it is worry that he’ll break ronan’s heart by not wanting the same things as him, and even that gets resolved within one night. adam parrish has grown so so much and feels so much more safety and certainty and trust and love about himself than he used to and i am so proud of him and he’s gonna be the best husband and dad ever.


Haikyuu!! ep 1x10, “Yearning.” 

The subtext in this episode is siiick. Someone please write a fic where Kageyama gets unreasonably jealous any time Hinata shows affection towards and/or really admires anyone who isn’t him. And like, he knows he’s being irrational, but he can’t help it, especially when Hinata goes around hugging people and singing their praises and basically not training 100% of his attention on Kageyama. 

And if a fic like this already exists, for the love of kagehina, link it to me. 

So I just watched "Yuri on Ice"......

This fandom grabbed me by the balls, ripped them off, and created a ship out of them with its name being “Hail Victuuri.”

At first I was like, “Dude this is actually hype! I’m going to read the manga!”
Then I opened up google and type in ‘Yuri on Ice manga’
Lets just say i got a big helping of 'you can’t always get what you want’ and shoved it into my face about how there isn’t actually a manga for us. This was my thing after 10 minutes of looking, and me screeching, “THERE IS A MANGA, RIGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHT?! IM NOT JUST CRAZY, RIGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHT?!” I did find out that there, supposedly, is a manga, but it’s only for the creators and casts eyes to lay upon.
I sat there for 5 fucking minutes reading that line over and over again like,

(at this part my inner weeb came out for a second) UGH, MY KOROKO, Y DID DIS HAPPEN 2 MI, I DIDNT SIGN UP 4 DIS.!!!!!!!!” *goes on tumblr and looks up ships, fanfiction, and other things since i can’t give up this goddamn fandom*

I can’t even say goodbye to this fandom cause its too precious and I already sacrificed my metaphorical male anatomy to build a ship to tie me down into this fandom. the sad thing is:






so i wrote a mike/chris fluff like i promised i would. they are the true otp

Title: Fallen Leaves and Mysteries
Fandom: Until Dawn (pre-canon fic)
Chapter: 1/?
Pairing: Mike x Chris
Rating: Teen (NC-17 overall)
Words: 2,723
Overview: After a fight with his father, Mike turns down a party invitation that drives a rift between him and Emily. His boring night gets turned around when Chris shows up on his doorstep, kicking off a series of events that might just turn his life upside down. Set to an indie soundtrack.

Tags: fluff, angst, kissing, bad parenting, abusive parent, implied alcoholism abuse, underage drinking, implied cheating, cuddling, drunk!Chris, cuteness & happiness

Notes: Also posted to AO3 on my account, FyxRising. This chapter’s indie song: Highway Patrol Stun Gun by Youth Lagoon. 

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