#I can quite imagine that they would have a few mental breakdowns

[grlpartdoll]

Oki part two of this HERE WE GO

I originally wrote you meeting all four in this part but it added up to like 4k words so I'm splitting it up LOL

this is just reader meeting johnny soap mactavish for the first time. Yah yah he's soooo cute. 18+ mdni pls

The first one to see you is Johnny. You look like you've come from the woods surrounding the place, messy and rattled and cold. So fucking cold. Matter of a fact, you're trembling, teeth chattering.

You're wrapped in nothing but a trench coat and you're wearing those little heeled boots, like you're fresh from the city.

You stumble into his pub empty-eyed and with only the bag slung over your shoulder. You settle slowly and quite heavily into a seat at the bar — a place where you can observe the whole room and keep an eye on the door.

Johnny approaches you while buffing out one of those stubborn cups that just refuse to shine properly, that cocky little smirk on his face because he's got fresh new prey among the town, finally.

"Aye, aye, lassie." He watches as your body tenses at the attention, your eyes flicking to his, your mouth stretching to accommodate a grimace of some sort. "Whit can I get ye?"

"I don't.." you clear your throat, cupping the edges of your neck gently with a shaky hand. Johnny doesn't quite believe his own eyes when you peel your hands away and he peeps at a few bruises there, scattered around like someone had grabbed you by the throat and squeezed just a bit too hard for it to be the source of any pleasure.

Johnny half wonders if you're about to have a mental breakdown right here, right now, in his pub, seeing your eyes flicker through about a dozen different emotions — panic and shame and anger and something else he can't quite name.

"I don't have any cash on me."

"Pssh, dun't ye worry aboot that, hen. First drink an' meal's oan da hoose." That's not technically true — but for a pretty frightened little bird like you, he's ready to make an exception.

You clutch the straps of your bag against yourself, and stare around the place for a moment, your eyes searching and searching and searching. Johnny eventually joins your search, but only finds Marty there, the old man that practically lives here since his wife, the local bookstore owner, divorced him — poor guy. Two local kids also sit in a nearby booth, warming up by the fire, having come in for breakfast before school. It's quiet in here, safe only for the kids' low conversation and the old jukebox repeating the same Prince song for the tenth time this morning.

"Do you.. I'd like something.. warm?" You finally ask, quiet as a mouse. It makes his lips twitch into a slight frown. If you notice, you don't say anything.

"Coffee an' breakfast?"

You lick your lips, as though the simple mention of it is making you want to drool, and Johny, like a savage, goes hungry, watching those wet lips plump on your face again. They're a bit bloody — picked raw by those shaking hands on your lap. Johnny wonders how they would taste, just like this. Cold and bloody.

You nod at him, ripping him out of his outlandish imagination, and then, like it physically pains you, you choke out a little "please."

Johny gives you his signature puppy-like grin, and turns away to the kitchens, trying to not make it too obvious that he's found his newest obsession.

Part three

[fivelila]

Ritu Arya - BTS S4 (Found on X)

[astraaa3]

please please please can you do valentino and male reader please i really like your writing

👉👈

anything sfw and/or nsfw is fine :3

A/N: You want it, you got it, Anon. Thanks for the request toots. Had a blast writing this one. >.<

Feedback is much appreciated (also, if you would like to proofread the degenerate shit I write please send a dm).

Valentino x Male!Reader

Note: You can imagine the reader to have whatever body type you prefer. While in this request Reader has a bodyguard position that doesn't mean that he was chosen for his physique. (Valentino is an asshole so he most likely hired Reader for shits and giggles) Now off we go.

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Headcanons:

Valentino likes teasing you. A LOT. Grabbing your hips, hugging you from behind, patting your head, rubbing your cheeks whenever you forgot to shave, linking his arm with yours, he always found an excuse to touch you.

Why was Valentino so tactile? Well, his love language was physical touch. Of course, he would take any chance he could to indulge. That said, the biggest reason was how you always blushed or laughed embarrassed at the public displays of affection.

Valentino loved teasing you. From changing in front of you to other…. explicit acts, he adored flustering you. And he wasn't quiet about it either. "Aww, what's wrong baby? I'm just helping you accomodate~" or "Oh come on papi, don't tell me you don't like what you see." (at one point you started keeping a catalog of the pet names he used for you)

After you decided to ask Valentino out for a date (you hyped yourself up while looking in a mirror for days before actually being able to get the words out), you found out that there was more to your boss than you had come to know. You learned that Valentino ADORED fast food, that he was shit at taking care of pets (Queef reference whom), and that he loved dancing and laughing at romcoms.

You asked him out initially out of some pathetic crush, but after the first few dates, you fell. And you fell hard. Following him around like some love-sick puppy, pouting when he was hooking up with girls at the club.

Valentino thought that it was fucking cute. So he did what he always does with things he finds interesting. He took you to bed. He didn't expect you to cuddle him the moment you were done. Much less for you to praise him. HIM. He had a minor mental breakdown while you fell asleep.

After Valentino came to terms with the fact that he started caring for you more than he planned to initially, he immediately claimed you as his. Taking you out in public and overplaying how lovey-dovey the two of you were, dressing you up in tuxes, and dining at high-end restaurants. Getting 'accidentally' caught fondling you inside of one of the clubs he owned, Valentino did everything to make sure there was not a single soul in Hell who didn't know that you were his.

A fun fact that Valentino learned about you when you officially started dating was that you would melt after being praised. And oh boy did he take advantage of that. Flattery fell out of Valentino's mouth like a waterfall whenever he saw the opportunity. "You are so handsome sweetheart, turning heads wherever you go. But those worms better keep their hands to themselves or I will FUCKING END THEM." (cue aggressive moth clicking noises)

You did get into fights with Valentino. Particularly about his short temper. While you were rarely on the receiving end of his rages, you did witness them quite often. Thankfully, Valentino agreed to try to be less rash and aggressive when he got mad. But it was still a work in progress. And there was a LOT of progress to be had.

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Small prompt: How it started

You had just gotten used to your new job when your life took a new turn yet again. It seemed like a normal day at first, you were just helping with putting the props in their places when the door slammed open, Valentino angrily stopping in his moth wings unfurled hanging behind him like a cape. It was the first time you saw Valentino without his signature coat…wings….whatever on. You blushed and started dumbly at him as your brain tried to process… heart…. nipples….(homerotic panic ensue). Valentino being Valentino of course noticed this. And making a mental note of your admittedly cute reaction he made a decision.

The next day you were called to his penthouse at the top of the V tower. You once again found yourself staring dumbly at the pictures of Valentino hanging up on the walls, your whole face turning red. Hearing a chuckle behind you, you immediately turned around embarrassed, fiddling a bit with your pants to hide the reaction caused by the pictures. (if Valentino noticed it, you were thankful that he said nothing about it or you would have died on the spot from embarrassment).

"Is this the first time you see any of my photoshoots, amorcito?" Valentino said with a smirk staring at your flushing face.

"U-uh. Yeah. I didn't know you also work in front of the camera and not just behind it." you said trying to sound more professional than you actually felt at the moment, it helped calm down the flush on your cheeks a bit.

Valentino nodded heading to the plush couch in the room sitting and crossing his fishnet-clad legs. Staring at you for a second, he took a drag of his cigarette.

"To keep matters short, you're getting promoted. From now on you will act as my bodyguard."

You stared at him confused for a second. He was an Overlord and well, you were just some random sinner who barely knew how to defend himself.

"I'm sorry, Sir, but I... I'm a bit confused. You are an Overlord and well, I think you could protect yourself better than I would be able to. Respectfully."

You could see his eyebrow twitching in what you could tell was annoyance. Smiling a few too many teeth at you, some pink liquid dripping from his lips, Valentino snarled out.

"Do I need to explain myself to you? Don't forget who's your boss bitch. You're working as my bodyguard from now on because I say so, bitch."

His fury seemed to disappear in an instant afterward, getting up and sliding his hand across the back of your shoulders in an overly sweet manner.

"You're going to do great amorcito. Now, off you go, enjoy your last day of setting up props."

With that, he sent you off. Sighing nervously, you couldn't help but think: 'Well, this is going to be interesting. That's for sure' (You had no idea how true those thoughts would prove to be) =========˚ʚ♡ɞ˚========= Send requests ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა

[nicksbestie]

I have an angsty (self-indulgent) req…

I struggle heavily with superstition and pattern-based compulsions, and I was curious if I could get a Jake or Johnnie fic where one of them sees the reader getting stuck in a harmful pattern (trying to match pain from scratches on both arms, knocking on their head for good luck, trying to avoid cracks/lines on the sidewalk, etc.)

-🫠

Summary : You struggle a lot with your compulsions and mental health, but your boyfriend is always there to make sure that you can relax.

Pairing : Jake Webber/Reader (romantic)

Warnings : Harmful pattern based actions, superstitious behaviors

Word Count : 718

A/N : i've never written anything like this req, so i really hope i did it justice! if i didn't please give me constructive criticism! my inbox and dms are open if you ever need to chat <3

Superstitious and compulsion based behaviors were a lot to deal with, and you knew that better than anyone in your personal life. You had struggled with them really badly for a long time, and it had damaged a lot of your life. You considered yourself very lucky sometimes, though, because you had a lot more support now than you did in the past, and the support system that you did have was absolutely amazing. You had two amazing best friends, one of whom was your boyfriend, and having dealt with struggles in his life, he was always so incredibly kind with you.

He was always patient, gentle, much softer than he was on camera, and you appreciated his tenderness so much. You couldn’t have imagined a better life partner than the man that you were with right now, and you truly couldn’t imagine your life without him. Having been with him for upwards of a year now, he was able to recognize when you were beginning to struggle, and always able to gently calm you down, keeping you comfortable and feeling safe. He was perfect, and was always there when you needed him, like today. 

Today you were having such a difficult day, many different things bothering you and being just uncomfortable enough to cause you to become frustrated. You managed to hold it together until the evening, when you were laying down with Jake, and you automatically felt a little bit better because of the fact that you were with your boyfriend, who was your safe space and comfort person, but you were still not quite calmed down. Jake was rubbing your arms with his, you wrapped up against him, and he had no idea that he was going to unintentionally cause a near breakdown within the next couple of minutes. 

It wasn’t for another few moments before one of his nails caught the perfect angle to end up scratching your arm, causing you to gasp in pain and surprise, and him to immediately panic and apologize. He kissed right over the spot that he had accidentally created, attempting to soothe it. However, with how worked up you had been from your long day, this was the straw that broke the camel’s back, and Jake’s heart broke when he realized there were tears forming in your eyes. He immediately wiped them away, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead, hoping on everything that you would be okay. 

He hugged you tighter, whispering soft comforts while his hand was gently running up and down your arm, trying to massage the feeling of pain away, but all he was doing was making you aware of how uneven your arms felt, and he had no idea that he was making it worse until you had teardrops rolling down your face, trying to resist the urge to scratch your other arm, making it match the same pain so you could relax again. He wiped those tears away immediately as well, pressing a kiss on nearly every spot on your face, hoping to get a smile to break onto your face. 

Unfortunately, after a couple more minutes of those, you couldn’t take it anymore, and ripped out of his grasp, using your own nails to run down your other arm, tears steadily flowing. He immediately grabbed your hands, pulling you close into his chest and firmly but not harshly keeping your hands away from your arm, holding you as you gave up in his hold, sobbing. 

“It’s okay, baby. You’re going to be okay. It’s okay, honey, it’s okay…” 

He knew you probably weren’t processing a lot of what he was saying, so he simply repeated the same words of comfort, keeping you close to him and making sure you were wrapped up tightly in his arms, pressing kisses to the top of your head. The pressure was helping you relax and was also keeping you from hurting yourself, and he stayed like that until you stopped crying, wiping your tears away with his thumbs, holding you until you eventually exhausted yourself. He was the boyfriend who could easily pick you up, helping you to bed, and holding you until you fell asleep in his arms. You knew you struggled, but you also knew that he would always be here for you.

~ taglist : @jake-and-johnnies-slut @gvf23 @maddytheweird @707xn @elliem505 @ilydeaky @maryx2xx @oobleoob @aemrsy @jasperthefriendlyghostt

~ if you'd like to be added to my taglist, click here!

~ my inbox is open, come chat!

[goatyuuji]

Sorry for the delay, but it's here now… Most of them are NC-17 and R rated, so read the tags.

One shots (1k-9k)

Incense by cielelyse (E, 6.6k)

“We wanted to know,” says Mimiko, “who between the two of you is the better fighter?” (Or: Satoru tries to prove he's better at close combat, but Suguru has other plans.)

Curiosity Killed the Crush by xBarbarellax (E, 7.5k)

Today was the day. No more chickening out, no more waiting for him to make the first move, no. Today, Hina was going to ask out Gojo Satoru.

all the world’s a stage by ruche

“I don’t deserve to love you,” Suguru offered. It was placid as a temple pond, at odds with all his feelings. His arms went limp at his sides. He smiled again, sweet and hollow. “Right?” Satoru recovered well enough. Intensity seemed to evaporate off of him within a few stiff seconds. “They deserve this, I deserve that,” he said after a beat. “Who died and made you king of the universe? Talk about obnoxious.” Suguru is horny and Satoru makes that Suguru’s problem.

closer to the bone by sanctify (E, 6k)

“How thoughtful of you.” Gojo eventually says as he rests the cuffs on his lap, skimming a finger along the black padding on the inside of one. “I saw that you had added them to your wishlist.” Geto hums, tilting his head in his direction, the sharp amber of his eyes like spools of molten honey. “I hope it wasn’t too forward of me.” This has Gojo burst out into a brief fit of laughter, the bright whites of his teeth showing as he leans forward to lay a hand on Geto’s chest, easy and playful and flirtatious. “I invite you over so I can record you fucking my brains out and post it online, and you think you’re being forward?” Gojo laughs again, a soft pink coloring the curve of his cheeks this time, accentuated by the highlighter he wore.

Thought you were about to get some foreplay with me by SaintOfAthena (E, 5.7k)

See, Gojo Satoru has a problem: there is a frontier that his true feelings cannot breach. When they try to force it, it is only at the cost of their true nature that they are allowed to pass. Consequently, after a mental breakdown due to a pimple that leads to Geto taking care of him, he jumps on the chance to tell him how he feels but things don't go as smoothly as expected.

up the river, we can go slow by Eskarina (E, 5.8k)

Satoru looks ethereal this way—like nothing has ever touched him. Like Suguru couldn’t even touch him if he wanted to. He does want to, eventually; ask Satoru if he’s allowed to leave marks that won’t disappear within the blink of an eye. He doesn’t think they’re quite there yet.

Trials and tribulations of loving Satoru Gojo.

Woozy by Kiboutie (E, 2.5k)

“I have infinity, remember? No one can touch me,” Satoru repeats, before slowly reaching forward and tucking a stray strand of hair behind Suguru’s ear with a wistful sigh. “Unless I want them to.” Alternatively, The one where omega Gojo continues to spend his heat with Getou, even after they've parted ways.

Longer fics (9k+)

4AM by damiselart (E, 10.8k)

Suguru and Satoru's meet cute but it's horny instead.

His **** is What?! by owl_beans (E, 10.1K)

Gojo Satoru did not have a crush on Getou Suguru. They had never even spoken to each other. Satoru was just curious about what neat and polite Getou Suguru was like when he wasn't all buttoned up. The answer was not at all what Satoru expected and even better than he had imagined. To no one's surprise, they hit it off infuriatingly well.

in the eye of the dragonfly by backbones (E, 9.3k)

Suguru first heard about the Six Eyes when he was still a child. Like most children his age, it sounded like a legend, or a fairy tale out of a book—and when he was a teenager, it became more real. Suguru was slated to be a sorcerer, but he still came from a modest clan inside the same village where the Six Eyes was born, and occasionally he would hear little truths: he was a boy of sixteen (like Suguru), he had eyes like the sky (unlike Suguru), or he will be the strongest sorcerer alive (not if Suguru had a say). But— He’s a boy, Suguru thought. He’s a boy. (In which the Gojo clan arranges a marriage between Satoru and Suguru.)

lovesick lullabye by pastelcoloureddreams (E, 18k)

"Satoru, you can't pretend like there's nothing more to us," Suguru appeals, grabbing the crook of Satoru's elbow. That certainly makes Satoru freeze but his eyes remain hard, an impenetrable fortress to the soft and vulnerable boy he knows still lives inside Satoru. "I still love you." "Love? Is that why you left me?"

Slow Hands by megumiblues (E, 12.3k)

Satoru is in desperate need of a massage, so who better to ask than famous masseuse Suguru, who just so happens to be the best friend he’s been in love with for over ten years now?

The Traveller's Song by No_Ir (E, 23.3k)

When it comes, the death of summer is vapid and quiet. It tastes like stale water and smells like memories gone bad in the heat. Nothing mourns it and the air is speckled with bits of seawater that cling to the dampness on the back of his neck. Crickets chirp throughout the night and the bed is too warm to sleep in, so he buries his face into pillows that smell like dust and salt and ignores the stabbing behind his eyes till he can feel the irritating warmth of another day on his back. I miss the sea, he thinks, staring at the familiar outline of the window, palm resting on the friend-shaped dent on his bed. Exhaustion drapes itself over his shoulders and sweat beads like pearls at the roots of his hair. I miss the sea like I miss my friend.

The Future of a Broken Past by dazylein (34.5k, ongoing)

Temporary amnesia due to severe trauma. It’s all the doctor can tell Satoru when he wakes up bloodied and bruised with no ID on him and no fingerprints matching any record. Plagued with the idea that his life must have been meaningless if no one is even looking for him, Satoru finds himself in front of a buddhist temple that proves him otherwise. As the haze around his memories clears, the guesses of who did this to him and why turn muddier and muddier.

[yanderegrizzsworld]

Heyyy. I just got into the digital circus fandom and I'm HOOKED with how well you write down the characters (even if it's only a few works) Not really a request but I just got an idea to share y'know. What if the Reader found a way to get out of the digital circus but can only transport themselves out, leaving the circus gang behind. What do you think they would be like?

In my opinion I think they would go nuts, because now their friend (and emotional support) is gone and it would increase their risk of getting abstracted.

Anon, I love how generous you are about how you think their abstraction risk levels would merely increase, as if they wouldn't just already abstract by the mere moment the learn the reader somehow managed to leave the circus.

Most of the crew would have a similar reaction, that of initial shock & disbelief. But afterwards, emotions differ slightly between each before an inevitable abstraction happens, but who would be the very first is hard to say.

Characters like Pomni, Ragatha would absolutely deny the possibilities of you escaping at first. How could you escape? More so, How could you escape without them? Why without them? Between the two, it's a pretty close tie on who abstracts first, but I'm of the belief that Ragatha would beat Pomni.

Kinger & Gangle would have a complete mental breakdown by your disappearance. Everyone viewed you as emotional support, but this two in particular made it very obvious that you were their support through this. I can imagine Ragatha attempting (& failing) to keep this two calm while she's trying not to abstract as well, yet their screams & cries echoing all around them is making it very difficult for her to.

Then you have Zooble & Jax, who both show little to no concern about the sudden problem. Hell, Kinger or Ragatha might even call them heartless (they don't actually mean it, they're just full of so many conflicting emotions & thoughts). But they both do care, & they feel just as heartbroken & empty of the fact you've left without even telling any of them. To an extent, they feel slightly at fault, that maybe if they were there for you more, that if they were softer with you, less rude, more open, perhaps you would've stayed? Perhaps you would've turned your back at the opportunity to return to the real world? For them?

Ragatha is already very close to her breaking point by the digital realm & she's my pick for the first one of the crew to abstract first. She's most likely/definitely seen previous performers abstract right before her eyes, any sense of self identity & awareness fully gone by the shatter of the mind. She held on to her self well & seemingly even better with you around! But now? I truly hope deep down she'll be happy to at least see Kaufmo down there, somewhere.

Pomni, I feel like, would ponder if she did something, for you leave without anyone, without her. Did she upset you? Did she annoy you to the point of using the opportunity to escape her? Why didn't you at least leave a letter or something? Her mind, so full of endless questions & what if's, completely consumes her. She won't feel or notice her body shifting & contorting as she abstracts, or maybe she does, & somewhere deep down in her, she feels she deserves it. You were arguably the only reason she didn't abstract yet & she was grateful for that, but now? She'll at least finally meet the other perfomers down there.

Kinger might honestly be the first to abstract the moment such words are uttered out loud. How?! When?! ...Why? Getting him to quit screaming at the top of his lungs will be high feat alone, but keeping him from abstracting? That's close to impossible now. He can at least have the "title" of the oldest & longest lasting performer who's been in the realm without abstracting.

Gangle is, pure & simple, an absolute mess. I don't personally think she'd abstract immediately after hearing the news, but she does become a ticking time bomb until her abstraction. She's very similar to Kinger, only difference is she sobs profusely instead of screaming. She most likely can't find the strength to wear a newly fixed comedy mask, the tragedy mask permanent on her face, regardless of Caine's insistence that she puts on a smile for the "audience".

At first everyone would believe Jax simply didn't care about the fact that you're gone. It wouldn't help his case if he were to say some snarky remark along the lines of how now he has to find a no one but himself to execute his pranks. Whatever he says most likely gets him a slap on the back of his head from Zooble. Yet under all that I don't really care attitude he has, he is just as devastated as the rest, he feels like some form of void has been born within him, everything from astounded to seething to desolate, an ardent & overwhelming collision of emotions that threaten to rip out of him with sick firmness. He feels at fault, he feels he's push you too much, made you feel unwanted. His guilt eats him eats him alive, but he won't show it, he can't, he's the "funny asshole" of the crew! He's got a image to uphold here! But sometimes, when no one is around to see, he might knock on your old door or leave something in there, maybe in the hopes you'll return? Reveal it was some sick & unfunny joke on all of them? I feel like he's abstraction would be slow, but when he does, he's much more violent & seems almost desperate, perhaps looking for you?

Zooble is very similar to Jax in the way that their tone & general attitude come off as they don't care. Unlike Jax however, it is possible to see that they are affected by us leaving if one looks closely. Zooble is moodier than usual, quicker to snap at others (especially Jax) & is more adamant at being left alone, yet there's a palpable tint of sadness in their voice –slight cracks even– & when not locked up in their room, their found in areas that we frequented or liked the most. We've essentially become a touchy subject for them & the moment we're brought up, the room becomes a landmine. Their abstraction is also a slow one, yet everyone feels & expects it to come at some point now, when Zooble's ticked off, most back away in fear they'll abstract & attack them. Zooble's incredibly hard to read, & that makes them scary when abstracted.

[zvtara-was-never-canon]

they managed to massacre Aang's character and all the struggle and importance of his choice in the finale in a SINGLE page, and yet there are people who think the comics are good

and of course Katara's would have nothing to say on the matter, toootally in-character

Not to mention: yes, Zuko is right that a lifetime of indoctrination won't magically stop affecting him just because he's aware of it now, but the way the comics really said "If you're not perfect, you deserve to die. Not rehabilitation, not even incarceration despite it being an option, just straight to violent, lethal punishment" is horrying.

And lets not forget the blatant abuse apologism of having Zuko, the kid who was told by his abusive parent that his disfigurement and banishment was "for his own good" after he made one "mistake", turning to his closest friends and asking them to be his "safety net" by MURDERING HIM IF EVER STEPS OUT OF LINE - and said friends then agree to it.

Are you fucking kidding me? The real Aang would have double-down on the "You're NOT your father" bit, and the entire friend group would have been super concerned about Zuko because a victim of abuse saying they're as bad as their abuser thus deserve to die is one hell of a red flag as to how their mental health is going.

Speaking of mental health: I talk a lot about how Azula was constantly being abused by the supposed heroes in the comics, and how the justification of it is rooted in ableism, but this nonsense with Zuko asking to be put down like a dog is also peak victim blaming, and one of the few moments in which one can actually feel bad for comics!Zuko.

And it ties into a disturbing pattern I noticed among Avatar fans - and mainly Zuko fans. They don't truly understand that what Ozai put his children through was wrong, they simply think he chose the wrong kid as the escapegoat. They think Azula should have been the one that is constantly punished just for existing, while Zuko is the golden child that can do no wrong - or else.

This moment right here? With the people that he trusts agreeing to inflict violence on him if he ever makes a mistake? This is that "or else". This is literally the same mentality that led to Azula's breakdown because NO ONE CAN SURVIVE UNDER THAT MUCH PRESSURE.

And that leads us to the main reason why the comcis suck: Yang was using Zuko as a self-insert.

"Zuko‘s relationship with Ozai is something we – Mike, Brian, Dark Horse, Nickelodeon, and I – talked about extensively when we first started working together. There’s this strange thing that happens to people in power. The pressures of power often blur the lines between enemies. That’s part of what happens to Zuko here. Ozai is the only one who knows what it’s like to be Fire Lord, the only one who has the wisdom of experience. I also looked at my own life. I used to clash with my dad quite a bit when I was a teenager. However, as I grew up and found myself in roles that he used to have, I began to understand more and more of his decisions. My father isn't thoroughly evil, of course, but I imagine Zuko feels a little of the same pull."

Yang. My guy. My dude. The words "Ozai" and "wisdom" should NEVER be in the same sentence. Every single action of Ozai's as Fire Lord was based on him being an abusive piece of shit that finally got access to absolute power. He is not a stern dad, he is abusive. He's not misunderstood, he needed to be stopped and locked away. He is a human being with feelings and motivations, yes, but he is WRONG ABOUT LITERALLY EVERYTHING EVER. He NEVER had a point. Zuko has nothing to learn from him except what NOT to do. That's why he looks like an older, unscarred Zuko. A version of Zuko that never changed.

This is the core issue of the comics, and why it had so many moments of unintentional abuse apologism: they say Ozai is a villain, but they're going out of their way to constantly make the characters come dangerously close to saying "Maybe he had a point." That's why they have Zuko turn to Ozai for advice despite claiming he wants to avoid becoming like him - because the guy writting them couldn't understand that the bad guy was, in fact, bad and in the wrong and has no wisdom to offer to anyone.

Avatar, the series, is about the world moving past from the sick mentality people like Ozai had, and about his son realizing that he did not deserve to be abused. The Avatar Comics are about telling Zuko (and others) "Ozai isn't wrong actually, you'll understand when you're older."

No, Yang, they won't. Because there's nothing to "understand" here other than THE GUY THAT ABUSED HIS CHILDREN AND COMMITED GENOCIDE WAS WRONG ABOUT EVERYTHING, YOU DUMBASS!

Saying "the villain had a point" does not make a story better unless it is true - and in Ozai's case, it simply isn't. Insisting otherwise doesn't make the story and characters more mature, it just means you couldn't understand a cartoon aimed at 7-year-olds despite being a grown-ass man.

And I won't even get into Bryke approving of this bullshit otherwise I'll start tearing my hair out in rage at how badly they seem to have lost touch with the message of their best work, so let me just use a simple statemet to make everyone understand just how much of a disaster this is:

Even M. Night Shyamalan didn't misunderstand ATLA to the point of thinking Ozai wasn't actually wrong, but Bryan, Mike and Yang did. The comics understand the show less than M. Night Shyamalan did.

I rest my fucking case.

[blorboazula]

part 2 of this, so more of the "and who knew spitting blue fire during a mental breakdown might cause damage?" AU because some people liked it. I guess cw for more detailed mentions of burn and implied past child neglect. (buy me a coffee)

Katara's not surprised that the room smells like jasmine and bonfire smoke, the princess smells like jasmine and bonfire smoke – not that Katara paid any attention, they simply stood almost close a few times. Like right now. Like right now when she's sitting on the bed, Azula in front of her and patiently watching her.

There's curiosity there, behind the instinctual apprehension, Katara ignores it. She hasn't noticed that there's specks of glimmering, pure gold among the sea of bronze so dark it looks brown sometimes. Any other situation, it'd all feel oddly intimate. Healing has that power sometimes, holding someone's life under your fingertips.

Katara focuses on not showing it on her face: the damage is nearly catastrophic.

Katara has seen terrific burns before, fresh and healed, she grew desensitized to it for her own sake. She never saw internal burns. People aren't meant to survive fire melting the flesh inside them.

No wonder Azula doesn't talk, what's supposed to be delicate vocal chords is a mess of scar tissue. It explains her general lack of firebending, or could be one of the reasons, there's no way Azula is breathing properly when the inside of her throat is narrowed by the tissue.

Katara has assumed the tenseness on her shoulders is from the general stress of her current predicament. She assumed the slight grimace that seemed set on her face has been some sort of discontentment with her situation. But then the water glows around her neck and Azula just relaxes.

All this time, she has been in pain all this time.

Katara pulls the water away, palliative care like this tends to last for a few hours, she can do the same again later the next morning. She doesn't dare poking around, testing if she can make Azula's throat just a little less swollen. She has messed around with a small scar on her thigh, one she doesn't remember why she has, and it has made it hurt and look even worse. She doesn't want to risk what might happen to Azula if she does.

Once the water is back on its pouch, Azula gently touches her own neck. She looks at Katara with what seems like some sort of thank you, or at least as much as a thank you a look can be from a princess like her.

"Do you have any other old scars that still hurt you?" Her hand moves to her shoulder but then she places both, fists tight, on her lap and shakes her head. "I wouldn't... I wouldn't mind." She shakes her head again. "Can I check your wrists then?"

She frowns, but allows. The scars are almost worse than she expected, but they have been somewhat taken care of during the healing process, they're almost faded at this point, not as deep and unattended as the one in her throat. Katara's fingers flex, in her brain, somehow, she imagined the chains leaving imprints where she had wrapped her wrists and forearms.

"Your armor burned you," she whispers. She looks up, Azula looks at her like she's saying yes, obviously. She has seen the armor in a leap of deformed metal. "They didn't check your throat for injuries? If they treated everything else."

A person shouldn't look so... nonchalant about medical neglect.

(Azula looking somewhat surprised by Katara asking if she was in pain flashed in her mind.

When was the last time someone genuinely cared about her well-being?

No surprise you were acting like that.)

"I can do healing sessions a few times a day, keep most of the discomfort away," she hopes Azula hears the I know there's more things bothering you, and I'll make you tell me. "But I can't heal any of it, I'll make everything much worse for you."

She seems impressed enough by the offer of help for the pain, so it's not like she'll demand for healing. In position to demand or not, she looks like the kind that would be quite the inconvenience about it.

Katara eyes her shoulder, one of the burns from that Agni Kai? A training accident or a wound from the war? Or maybe a too-warm hand on her shoulder, paired with honey-leaking words from the forger of a weapon.

"I'll take my leave now," she's almost reluctant at letting go of her warm, soft hands. She does, after a moment. "Tomorrow we'll do it again. Have a good night, your highness."

[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

Crush Symptoms

idea, but no pressure: Touch-starved analogical? Maybe a bit of hurt/comfort where they both think the other doesn’t like hugs/other touch, but really they just don’t know how to ask? love your work! – amateurmasksmith

I was wondering if you could do a fic with Virgil as the comforter, since he’s rarely in that role. I was thinking Logan starts working more and taking worse care of himself, and instead of processing his stress and feelings he holds the stress in his body, which combined with sitting more and shit is causing him physical pain, and Virgil, being anxiety, helps him relax and relieves the pain. No pressure tho lol I just thought it’d be interesting to see some physical comfort since you write mental comfort so well – anon

Read on Ao3

Warnings: chronic pain, not-actually unrequited love

Pairings: analogical

Word Count: 3306

Logan is aware that he is what some people might call 'standoffish.' This does not prevent him from developing quite the crush on Virgil. Now, if only he could find a way to talk about it that didn't involve having s mental breakdown...

Logan is aware that he is what some people might call 'standoffish.' He does not invite the same camaraderie that a few of the other Sides do, nor does he make himself approachable for things such as hugs or other forms of physical affection. By and large, he is content to remain this way, as it allows him to perform his duties and adhere to his schedule without being waylaid by those who will not be named that are quite fond of occupying laps or other physical spaces as would a particularly affectionate pet. That is, offended by any sort of dislodging or movement that impedes their ability to use him as a pillow.

Now, this does not mean that he is averse to offering physical affection, far from it. If Patton is in need of a hug, or if Roman insists on sweeping them all into some form of ballroom dance, he will oblige. Firstly because often it is no hardship, secondly because if it is a hardship, complying usually gets it over with a little quicker. However, there are certain forms that he resists wholeheartedly, namely being tackled onto the nearest surface, soft or otherwise. He has several bruises from the trial and error period of figuring out how best to avoid such circumstances.

While this serves him perfectly well the majority of the time, he would be remiss in his conclusions to say that it works out all the time. He is still human, metaphysical or otherwise, and as such, is subject to the same things that all humans are when it comes to his health. He must still endeavor to eat relatively healthily, he must get an adequate amount of sleep, and yes, he must socialize. This can typically be achieved by attending the 'family dinners,' as Patton is fond of calling them, regularly scheduling movie nights for everyone, and partaking in whatever events the twins conjure in the Imagination for them to enjoy. Recently, however, he's been noticing something amiss.

He's begun to get quite cold. At first, he ascribed it to the changing seasons; despite the fact that Thomas lives in Florida, the coming of the winter months is accompanied by some decrease in average temperature. It made sense, then, that he would be colder if it were colder outside. However, the general feeling of the Mindscape did not alter significantly, nor did adding sweaters or cardigans make any sort of meaningful difference. He tried switching his water intake with hot tea, keeping a blanket on hand to drape over his lap when he worked, even trying to make his room warmer using a few extra heat lamps Janus deemed insufficient. Nothing worked, in fact it made it worse. Now he felt both too warm and too cold at the same time, which was endlessly perplexing. How could he be sweating and still feel cold?

It became clear this was not a typical issue of temperature. There is something else at work here, clearly, that is giving him the sensation of being cold without the physical symptoms present. Perhaps some sort of latent emotional response due to something happening in Thomas's life. But as much as he tries to investigate that avenue, he fails to find anything significant enough to warrant this sudden feeling. None of the others imply that anything's wrong, Thomas isn't undergoing any significant struggle, and even checking in on the status of his own work fails to result in anything useful.

The last option, then, is that the problem is entirely internal.

At first, the conclusion makes Logan scoff. What could he be doing or not doing that would result in him feeling cold? He was maintaining his physical fitness, his general health, even his social requirements. He'd just come from movie night, after all, where all of them ended up on one of the large mattresses the twins could summon, huddled under blankets while some generic action movie played on the TV. He hadn't felt cold during that, had he?

Logan sits down at his desk, fingers steepled in concentration. He closes his eyes, trying to remember how he felt a few minutes ago. He'd been sitting with his back against the couch, yes, with Roman and Remus cuddled up near the edge of the mattress as Janus quietly explained to Patton what was going on. Virgil had been on the other side, twisting his hoodie strings back and forth as he watched. Logan hadn't been cold, how could he have been, what with the twins acting as space heaters under the blankets? The only time that he had even approached getting cold had been when Remus got up to use the bathroom, pushing his way through the pile of them and the blanket had flipped up. Virgil had leaned forward to pull it back down and brushed against Logan's arm.

Logan blinks.

Virgil's arm had been warm. Distressingly so. As though someone had taken a hot water bottle and pressed it against him. It had lasted barely a second, as Virgil had quickly pulled away with a muttered apology. But that is, to date, the only memory Logan has of actually feeling warm instead of cold.

Glancing at the clock, he sighs and opens his laptop, quickly typing something in and adjusting his glasses. The cold feeling reemerges as he reads, one hand unconsciously going to the front of his chest as he takes in the words on the screen. He amends his conclusion about what's going on both too quickly and too slowly.

He's touch starved.

Had someone brought up the possibility even an hour earlier, he would have scoffed. He wasn't the type of person to become touch starved. He had all the options for physical affection he would want, how could he be touch starved? His role didn't give him any sort of predisposition to it either, that was reserved for Patton, Roman, Remus, even Janus. Logic, touch starved? The very notion was preposterous.

And yet, once you have eliminated the impossible…

He closes the laptop again and sits back, the hand still on his chest now feeling woefully inadequate. There are solutions to this problem, obviously, his disbelief at its existence signifies as such. He would be able to receive assistance from at least three Sides if he went to them right this moment and informed them of his predicament.

He sits in the chair, unmoving.

Patton would baby him. Treat him as though he were a child, someone to be smothered and cooed at, perhaps even forbid him from being on his own for a while until it was solved. That in and of itself might have the complete opposite effect and make him resent the idea of touch altogether.

Remus would be more aggressive. He might be wrestled down and held until Remus deemed it alright to let him up, which wouldn't be for a considerable amount of time. Besides, he's seen Remus's choice of affection and he's not sure such treatment would work to resolve the problem.

Janus would tease him. Or at the very least, hold it over his head in some way, no matter how innocent or playful it would be, in exchange for his help. He's embarrassed enough as it is, he can only imagine that having to watch Janus smirk and chuckle at him as he tried—badly, because that is all he can do at the moment—to make himself ask for physical comfort.

Roman…might be alright. Out of all of the Sides, Roman is perhaps the only one who Logan can actually imagine struggling with touch starvation. Roman would understand and probably wouldn't hold it over him in any way, or make him uncomfortable about it. He would understand the severity of the situation and the significance of Logan coming to him for help, but…but…

But if Logan is being very honest with himself in this moment, there is only one Side he truly wants to go to and ask for help, and it isn't Roman.

He gets up then, going to the bathroom to finish his nighttime routine, turning off the light and settling into bed. He sets his glasses on the side table and turns over. After a moment, he takes one of the spare pillows and tucks it against his chest. If he closes his eyes, he can attempt to imagine someone else here.

His crush on Virgil is an open secret between him and Roman at this point. Ironically enough, it was one of the first things that solidified this new friendship between them. Roman wouldn't betray his trust, he knows, nor would he actually bother him about it if he knew it was causing him this much distress. Sure, he'd coaxed Logan into doing one of those horrifically cliched rants about how much he liked Virgil once or twice under the justification that it was better to get it out in some way before it spilled out uncontrollably, but other than that, he left it alone. Which was excellent, because then there's a smaller chance that Virgil will find out, but also, that almost definitely rules out going to Roman for any sort of help.

Because Roman is, contrary to Logan's insistence, quite sensible, and he will no doubt suggest that Logan go and actually talk to Virgil.

Even the thought crossing his mind is enough to make him scoff again, burying his face in the pillow. Virgil is not one for physical affection either, which renders the entire solution pointless. If by some miracle he actually accepted Logan's affections—he does not dare give himself the hope that Virgil would return them—that was no guarantee that anything beneficial would become of it. He would simply have to deal with this on his own, or find some way to achieve a solution that would stem the worst of it until he thought of something better.

The cold feeling in his chest spreads a little bit as he falls asleep.

He does not, in fact, succeed at doing either of these things. Instead, he decides that the best way to avoid dealing with this problem is to devote himself to his projects, reasoning that if he has less brain space to worry about it and dwell on his inability to resolve it, it will become less of a problem. In doing so, he forgets three key things: one, you cannot reason or think your way out of being in pain, two, ignoring a problem does not make it go away, and three, ignoring this particular problem makes it much worse.

Much, much worse.

The first time he tries to get up and has to wince at the pull in his shoulders, he doesn't think anything of it. Perhaps he was sitting for too long. He rolls them a few times to stretch them out and continues about his day as though nothing's gone wrong.

The first time he gets up and has to immediately sit back down, he has the thought of reaching for his water bottle and a snack. He looks at the clock and realizes he's been working far longer than he anticipated. Perhaps that was it, just losing track of time.

The first time he wakes up and every single muscle in his body aches, he knows he's gone too far.

He has half a mind to scold himself the way he does the twins for neglecting his physical health in favor of his work, but just as soon as the thought crosses his mind, another pushes itself to the forefront. The physical manifestation of stress has not only caused him to become virtually immobile, but it has a high likelihood of directly alerting the one person Logan would really rather not know about any of this.

A dread that is instantly realized when he feels something soft and warm brushing his hair back from his face.

"Hey, L? L, can you hear me?"

"Virgil?"

"Yeah, it's me." He must be imagining the relief in Virgil's voice, why else would he sound like that? "Sorry to come in without asking, but it seems like you're really not having a good time right now."

He manages to pry his eyes open and sure enough, there is Virgil, looking down at him with concern written plainly across his face. He swallows and his throat protests. Virgil seems to take that as an answer.

"I think you've overworked yourself a bit," he says in that soft way that isn't teasing, not really, but enough to make Logan flush, "can I help you figure out something else?"

"Like what?"

"You're in pain right now, yeah? Shh, hey, I'm sorry, I didn't mean it like a bad thing—I mean, it's a bad thing you're in pain, but I'm here to help you not be in pain, not make fun of you for being in pain."

"Sorry."

"Don't apologize for reacting like you're hurt when you are." His hand cards through Logan's hair again and he has to bite his lip at how warm the touch is. "Can I help, though? I know a bit about making this sort of pain go away."

This is a bad idea. This is in fact a terrible idea. This is not something Logan should agree too.

"Okay," Virgil says, when Logan nods because of course he does, why should he stop making bad decisions now, "here's what we're gonna do, okay? I'm guessing there's a lot of pain just sort of in your limbs, am I right?"

"Yes."

"Got it. I'm gonna start stretching them out, okay? You let me know if anything hurts too much and I'll stop right away."

"Okay."

"I'm gonna start with your arm." Virgil's hands are so warm and solid on his arm that he almost bites back a whine. "That okay? Not hurting too much?"

"N-no."

"Okay. Let me know if that changes."

He starts lifting and rotating Logan's arm, bending and straightening it and massaging the tender skin. Some part in the back of Logan's brain recognizes he's trying to restore regular blood flow and a decent range of movement, but the rest of him is currently swallowed in the dry warmth of Virgil's touch. He lays that arm down after a while and moves to the other one. But this has him leaning over Logan with his shadow falling across Logan's face and he can't stop the slight rush of breath that escapes him.

"Hey," comes the gentle voice and that isn't helping matters at all, "hey, what's wrong, bud? You doing okay? Am I being too much?"

"No," he says far too quickly, "no, you're…you're fine."

A bemused smile comes to his face and he nods, continuing to work on the other arm. Logan's torn between letting his eyes fall shut to enjoy the sensation of just someone else touching him and keeping them open so as not to miss a second. Virgil seems mostly oblivious to his dilemma, patiently working his way up and down the arm until he lays it flat once more. He sits back on his haunches, a hand resting on Logan's knee. Even through the covers, the touch burns.

"How're your legs doing, bud? They hurt too?"

"Yes."

"Okay. I'm gonna need to take the covers off so I can see 'em, is that okay?" Logan nods, but as soon as the cool air hits him, the swelling sensation in his chest buckles and he's gasping for air in the next second. "Whoa, whoa, hey, hey, shh, shh, L, it's okay, look, there, the blanket's all back, see? Shh, it's okay, you're okay."

"Sorry," Logan gasps out, "sorry, I'm so sorry."

Virgil shuffles closer, a furrow between his eyebrows. "You've got nothing to apologize for, L, I mean it. I'm here to help, okay? If something I'm doing isn't helping, then you tell me and I stop it. That's what you did, you're doing great."

"N-no, I'm sorry you—you have to help me like—help me like this."

"Like what?"

"You have to—to touch me."

Virgil goes quiet. Logan squeezes his eyes shut and waits for the telltale noise of sinking out. Instead, he almost loses his entire composure when a hand gently cups his cheek.

"Logan," comes the voice, soft, too soft, too sweet, "open your eyes, look at me, sweetheart."

Oh, no. Not the pet names. Literally anything but that.

But Logan is weak and already doing what Virgil asked. The thumb brushing his cheek does make him want to shut his eyes again, because this cannot be real, but Virgil is smiling at him.

"I don't mind touching you," he murmurs, "that's not a hardship for me. Is it that you don't like being touched? Is that the problem?"

"You…" None of his brain wants to work so long as that hand is on his face. "Can't think."

The hand leaves and the cold makes him whimper. Virgil's hand touches his knee again. He blinks.

"You don't like being touched."

"What makes you think that?" Logan just stares at him. "Just because I don't like being tackled by Remus doesn't mean I don't like being touched."

"O-oh."

"Besides, if it were you, I don't think I'd have any problem with it at all." Virgil chuckles when a flush decides that now is the perfect time to spread all over Logan's face. "Wow, okay, I wasn't expecting that."

"You—you—what?"

He leans forward, both hands reaching this time, and they fit gently around the curve of Logan's neck. The rush of warmth is staggering, not helped at all by Virgil's soft voice still murmuring to him. "I thought you didn't like to be touched, sweetheart, that's it. I'm happy to help you, I promise. And Princey's definitely gonna tease the hell out of me when he hears about this."

"Wait, why?"

"Because he knows about the big fat crush I have on you and if he could see me right now…" Virgil trails off when he notices Logan's eyes brimming with tears. "Hey, hey, sweetheart, don't cry, I'm sorry, that was too much to dump on you right now, here, let me help you with your legs and you can—"

Logan doesn't let him finish, surging forward to clumsily press his mouth to Virgil's. The hands cradling his face stutter and for a moment, he thinks he's made the worst mistake of his life, but then Virgil sighs and kisses him back like it's the only thing he wants to do.

"Well," he says softly when they break apart, "I think Princey's gonna be teasing both of us, then?"

"Probably."

Virgil chuckles and rubs their noses together. "How about this, then: let me help stretch your legs out, get you some painkillers, then we'll cuddle in bed and not worry about how smug Princey's gonna be until later?"

"That sounds perfectly adequate."

"'Perfectly adequate,' alright, I can work with that."

Roman does indeed end up being very smug, but he's quietly smug about it, which Logan will take as a win.

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[dykeiism]

whenever i see people talking about the purpose of mental health diagnoses, three reasons usually come up:

to encourage self-understanding

to concisely describe treatment options to professionals

to gain access to resources and accomodations

but it's hard for me to agree with any of these. given the harm associated with diagnosis, especially diagnosis of a personality disorder, i'm finding it increasingly difficult to justify diagnosing any mental disorder at all. below the cut is a breakdown of each of these three reasons, and why i believe that none of them hold up to criticism.

(1) to encourage self-understanding.

diagnostic criteria are so rigid that they discourage self-understanding. they fragment the human experience, categorizing it into easily digestible groups of "symptoms" rather than understanding a person's struggles holistically. this is why we have a phenomenon of people thinking, "well, my anxiety tells me this, but my depression tells me that" and "i'm having an intrusive thought but can't tell if it's coming from my ocd, ptsd, or bpd." diagnosis misleads patients into believing that, much like one might cough due to either pollen in the lungs or a respiratory illness, one might feel anxious due to either their generalized anxiety disorder diagnosis or their post-traumatic stress disorder diagnosis. a more accurate understanding of the human mind would necessarily involve doing away with the pathology of gad versus ptsd, and instead being able to understand that the anxiety might simply result from a combination of previous negative experiences, a naturally sensitive personality, and underdeveloped emotion regulation skills. a diagnosis is a description of a pattern of thoughts and behaviours; nothing more. my mental health conditions don't cause me to think or behave a certain way. rather, my thoughts and behaviours are similar to the thoughts and behaviours of other people who have also been deemed mentally sick. this makes it possible for doctors to use a certain diagnosis as a shorthand to describe my personality and skills (i refuse to call such things "symptoms") to other doctors. it does not mean that i have a sickness that causes me to think and act in certain way.

why would i want to understand myself through the lens of a psychiatrist, anyways? psychiatry is a deeply individual solution to systemic problems. we're living in a world that evolution could not prepare us for, yet we are told that there's something wrong with our brains if we're unable to adapt to these unprecedented living conditions. i refuse to believe that my brain is sick unless somebody has looked at my brain and can tell me where the sickness is. we must not forget that we're dealing with the discipline that understood homosexuality and hysteria as mental illnesses, and that initially understood autism to be a form of schizophrenia.

(2) to concisely describe treatment options to professionals

imagine, if you will, someone with post-traumatic stress disorder. all you know about them is that they have ptsd. now, recommend a treatment method for them!

nobody can give a good treatment recommendation based on that diagnosis alone. more information is needed: is the patient dealing with persistent general anxiety, sudden panic attacks, or a phobia? does the patient have compulsions? is the patient aggressive, anxious, or depressive? depending on the answers, the ideal treatment plan will be quite different.

now let's consider borderline personality disorder. there are 4 types of bpd and there are 256 possible ways to combine the 5 symptoms required for diagnosis (there are 9 symptoms in total). the personalities, cognitive abilities, and struggles of people diagnosed with bpd are quite diverse, and they will all require varying types and degrees of professional intervention. that being said, bpd is almost always treated with dbt and a few medication options including antidepressants, antipsychotics, mood stabilizers, and anticonvulsants. there are so many other disorders that are treated with dbt and the same drugs. so why make bpd, bipolar, ptsd, cptsd, and depression their own diagnoses? what reason is there, other than to fragment our struggles and generate stigma?

my wish for the future of psychiatry is that, instead of being diagnosed with a disorder that is simultaneously very specific yet inexplicably vague, patients will be told "your struggles are related to trauma and emotional dysregulation. i recommend that you take an antidepressant and attend dialectical behavioural therapy sessions," or "your struggles are related to catastrophization and unhelpful behaviours, i recommend that you engage in cognitive behavioural therapy."

(3) to gain access to resources and accommodations

there are better ways to do this. i don't think anyone should be turned away from the accommodations that they need. however, if resources are scarce and must be gatekept, then a simple interview or quotient test will be sufficient in determining the level of need.

[treason-and-plot]

“Hello, Roy,” says Sonia, sitting up a little straighter and compressing her lips. “Please sit down. Not here. Over there.”

“Roy had a big night,” says Violet. She pauses. “He hasn’t had any sleep. “

“Honestly, Roy,” says Sonia. “When are you going to grow up?”  

“Pfffft. Growing up is for babies,” says Roy. He snickers to himself and sits down on the stone garden seat.  “Where are the kids?”

“Gone to look at the fishpond,” says Sonia. “There’s some important things I have to say and it’s better if they’re not here. It might upset them.”

“Where’s the fishpond?" says Roy.

“Did you hear what I just said?” says Sonia.

Roy winks and smiles at her. It’s a beautiful day, and the surrounding rose bushes fill the air with a sweet and delicate perfume. Not that he can smell too much at the moment, but he can use his imagination. Someone told him once that not everyone has the ability to recall scents, which he found surprising. He can effortlessly remember the scents of all the significant women in his life, for example. Saoirse had a faint peppery scent, Anya smells like sunlight bouncing off the ocean. Sonia smells like linen and warm milk. Sonia is not returning his smile. He can’t quite recall what Violet smells like. He would like to lick her arm to jog his memory. Taste is very strongly intertwined with smell, apparently.

“Roy. I need you to listen to what I’m about to say,” says Sonia.

“Sure, hon,” he says. “I have something very important to say too. But you go first. I’m all ears. You look fucking fantastic, by the way. Doesn’t she, Vi? Obviously whatever treatment you’re having in here is doing wonders. I mean, you’d hope so, for the prices they charge. But who cares about money when it’s my wife’s health and happiness at stake, right?”

“I’m not your wife any more, Roy,” says Sonia. “Which is something that- “

“Slip of the tongue,“ he says. “Heh, you like a bit of tongue slip, don’t you hon? I bet Violet could vouch for that. Sorry. That probably wasn’t appropriate. Okay, I’ll be quiet. Please say what you have to say. Then I’ll say what I have to say. Deal? ”

Sonia briefly closes her eyes. Violet squeezes her hand. Roy sniffs and clears his throat several times.

“I have learnt a lot in my group therapy sessions about the importance of boundaries,” says Sonia. “We set very few boundaries when our marriage ended, Roy, and that’s been hugely detrimental to my emotional well-being. Not having boundaries has meant that I haven’t given myself space to heal.”

“What do you mean, space to heal?” says Roy. “Heal from what?”

“The breakdown of our marriage,” says Sonia. "Obviously."

“Cut to the chase, Sonia. I don't have any tolerance for this therapy-speak bullshit. What are you trying to say?” says Roy. Suddenly there are shadows leaking behind the rose bushes, spreading like spilled ink.

“I need to cut off all contact with you for the sake of my mental health, Roy, ” says Sonia. “That’s what I’m saying.“

[yuri-is-online]

Same Anon here that dropped that mess of an angst post lol. Maybe I should find some name for myself if this becomes a regular thing.

There are a lot of valid points there. For as lightly as the story treats everything, wow this would be messed up irl. But I digress, I personally can see this potentially taking a much darker route. I don’t know if you’re comfortable talking about this so TW: Brief mention of suicide

I imagine Yuu to just bottle everything up for the aforementioned reasons of being seen as weak for expressing any of their emotions only for it to all come out in one big mental breakdown. I think it would be quite poetic for Yuu’s breakdown to be more of a quiet self-destructive thing just to contrast the showy, outwardly destructive nature of the overblots. I always thought it could be some spur of the moment decision to just end it all out of sheer hopelessness and a thoroughly crushed sense of self-worth. I just can’t see a teenager handling a burden this heavy very well. Whether or not Yuu survives could be up to how dark you want to go.

Also if it isn’t too much, I would like to see that post about the boys’ individual reactions to Yuu running away sometime. But I’m aware you only write for a few at a time so…

previous post

You are more than welcome to give yourself a name! I don't have any named annons so you are free to choose anything you like, and make regular appearances if that is what you wish. While I try to only write for a few characters at a time, I don't mind doing a bullet point type post with my thoughts on the boys reacting to Yuu running away sometime, but I need to think as part of me wants to write something sappy and romantic, while the other part wants to focus more on Yuu and their character. I could do both I suppose (￣ω￣;)

I'm fine with talking about suicide, but since it's a sensitive subject I am going to place my thoughts under read more and tag it so if it is something you, dear reader, are triggered by you needn't see more than you are comfortable with.

notes: they/them used for Yuu, discussions of suicide and depression, isolation, abandonment, and missing persons. This also kind of takes a trip into theory town I am so sorry annon. Please do not interact with the words below if you do not wish to think on such things.

I want to start out by saying that when a person is depressed it is not always obvious, even if they are contemplating suicide. We don't have a complete understanding of what drives someone to kill themselves because we can't ask people who have. I do think there is an element of assuming that either the world or you will be better off if you are dead; which I would like to stress simply is not true, but you are not evil for struggling with that feeling even if people try to make you feel like you are.

Yuu's breakdown being "more of a quiet self-destructive thing," as you stated dear friend, would be extremely poetic. To me it highlights the disparity between Yuu and the overblot boys. They have power and are able to hurt others to try and make themselves feel better, Yuu has next to none and is only able to hurt themselves.

Crowley mentions that there is counseling available to all NRC students, assuming the school follows real life laws we can assume the Professors are mandatory reporters. If Yuu shows signs of depression or self-harm, they will be required to report that and recommend Yuu for counseling, but the thing about therapy is that it's not a one size fits all solution. The patient needs to accept that they have a problem and, perhaps more importantly, trust their therapist otherwise you won't benefit from the treatment.

That's assuming that a counselor would even understand how to treat Yuu in the first place, there's a lot going on with their situation and while I could see a good therapist taking it very seriously, there's only so much they can do, which brings me to my sort of sticking point with this and why it took me so long to answer your ask.

Why in the hell is Yuu in Twisted Wonderland in the first place??? "Because they're Alice" ok sure but what does that like actually mean. I don't want to derail this into theory town but I keep thinking about the translated lines Crowley mutters to himself when calling Yuu a beast tamer that doesn't appear in the text box... something about how they look more like they are meant to be eaten by the beast than tame it.

There is a part of me that feels like Crowley wants Yuu to feel isolated and despondent about their chances of getting home, like he needs them to be accepting of their death and convinced it's the only way they will be useful. Something to do with Grim and that big Chimera at the beginning of the game, in the light novel there is someone telling Yuuya to take their hand but they can't move to take it, all they can do is stare up at the big monster and it's evil grin (if i remember correctly)

Anyway all of that to say I can see two sorts of scenarios leading to Yuu trying to harm themselves.

Route A: Summer

As was correctly pointed out in these tags on the original post, I think Summer would be the worst time for an actively depressed Yuu. If they have been seeing a counselor, they will likely not be available over the summer months, Crowley didn't take us on vacation with him the first time so there's no way he'll do it now, and everyone has their own families to get back to.

They only have Grim and the Ghosts. And while Yuu might love them, they technically belong here. Yuu does not. The lack of other friends bothering them means Yuu has time to think good and hard about where they are. And who they left behind.

I like to listen to Dateline while I work sometimes and one of the things that always gets to me is how little closure people feel when someone goes missing, even if they find out what happened to them. If Yuu is missing in their world and their family loves them... they just have next to no chance of ever finding that out. Ever.

If Yuu has a bad relationship with their family, or none at all, they probably start feeling like they are going insane. They have nothing worth going back to really, to the point that people would probably encourage them to see being in Twisted Wonderland as a good thing, a chance for a fresh start. But it has been anything but.

Summer would be a good time to run away, it's easier to be homeless in the Summer, plenty of places need part time help anyway, and Yuu can make a clean break from the school before anyone notices they're gone.

It's also a good time to decide you want to die. By the time your friends come back they will have already gotten used to life without you anyway.

.... i could see this making grim overblot tbh. He blames the school for taking Yuu from him and by the time everyone returns he is there. Waiting. The consequences of their actions given form.

A monument to all their sins.

Option B: Sacrifice

So back to theory tangent.

Grim and Yuu are one student. Crowley treats them as such, but what if he-

Or whoever the real final boss is

Need them to actually be one student.

So they approach Yuu, offer their sympathies. Tell them they know why Crowley cannot send Yuu home.

"Because you came here by dying, don't you remember? These events you have seen, all your misfortunes and troubles, they've all been like one big dream. What a terrible fate you've met... but no worries. I know how to set you free."

The strange masked man places his hand on your shoulder and guides you to the mirror. You see your reflection in it, for the first time you idly realize, hair spread out on the pavement with a halo of blood spatter about your sleeping head.

"You needn't be scared." the man's voice is calm, soothing even, so much so that you almost believe him when he says

"You've died once before, after all. You know exactly what it feels like, it will just be like going to sleep."

Sleep sounds good, even if you have just gotten done fighting to stay awake, so very good you nearly miss the creature's wicked grin spreading mockingly across the reflection of your peaceful face.

[sky-scribbles]

Playlist for my Aeor longfic

I failed to figure out how to do a fancy spotify embed like the kids do but uh. Here's the playlist for Gravity!

I listened to this while planning and writing, and there are even a few shout-outs to the songs in the fic... Songs are arranged chronologically, so you should be able to hear the story happening, hopefully :'D

Further yelling about song choices under the cut!

A Matter of Time - This one is... sort of the fic's opening titles in my head? I wanted to start out with an instrumental, to capture the vibes of the months before the fic opens - Essek and Caleb apart, thinking about the T-Dock, and each other. Wondering. Waiting.

Horse to Water - Essek in Chapter 1, knowing his life as the Shadowhand is ending, waiting for Caleb to come and take him away to whatever comes next. (I'm normally very picky about not putting songs that reference modern day stuff on fantasy playlists but this one's vibes were too perfect)

Dear Fellow Traveller - Two wizards heading into Aeor together.

Conquest of Spaces - A song for Aeor. A dark, beautiful city, the remains of a people who lived by greed and power. (And two wizards in the ruins, trying to draw closer to each other.)

Neptune - This is mostly for Essek's breakdown in chapter 5, as he worries he'll never break out of his Shadowhand manipulation, wanting to be closer to Caleb and not knowing what that would even look like. And it's a little for Caleb in chapter 6, too, grappling with his feelings for Essek and his fears that they'll ultimately be bad for each other.

Please Don't Say You Love Me - ... and as they move past those fears, this song is for them tentatively acknowledging what they might be to each other. Not yet. But maybe soon.

Woodwork - This is for the chapters 6-9 span, as they learn more about Brashaar's plan. The pressure of a crisis has an odd way of making them realise just how deep their trust and care for each other runs.

Two Evils - Since we're at the point where Brashaar shows up, she gets a song now! This is pretty much her internal monologue during her confrontation with the wizards (though she really should have paid attention to 'if you're not careful, you will lose her' in reference to Quaera...)

Winter - Travelling northward, and yearning. Wishing they had more time.

Mind - A song for a young Quaera, slowly forming a personality, wondering about who she is and how her identity forms...

The Tower - ... and having their own breakdown.

What Could Have Been - I love me a good villainous breakdown, and this is a song for Brashaar's. This is how I imagine she feels during the final confrontation, raging against the gods, against Caleb and Essek, against Quaera after they turn from her. Not quite able to let go of what she thinks Aeor could have been. What, in her eyes, the world is meant to be. (As a bonus, I think the second verse sounds a bit like a retort to her from Quaera...)

Everybody Wants to Rule the World - This is such a fun cinematic cover, and I can't tell you how many times I've imagined a mental AMV of the final battle with Brashaar set to it :'D

Ori, Embracing the Light - I wanted an instrumental here too, because... Essek is dead, Caleb is in shutdown, and Essek and Quaera are communing with the Luxon, a being that doesn't really speak with words. Also, 'embracing the light' is exactly what Quaera does at this point.

Would That I - I know we all use this as Caleb's 'learning to live and love again' song... and I am no exception. This is for him after the T-Dock, finally fully acknowledging his grief, and his love for Essek.

First Day of my Life - Just two wizards realising that they have a future, and agreeing to slowly work at what's between them.

Ready to Call This Love - This one speaks for itself, honestly.

Five - Both of the wizards in the final chapter, but especially Essek realising how isolated he's been from the world, and letting it all in so he can feel it. (Also, studying the universe is a love language - )

Gravity - Gravity is a metaphor for love!!!!

[sealz888]

Marcus headcanons? ❤️

Hell yeah! Some of these headcanons go over fo1, fo2 and fnv. I've also added some little tidbits of Jacobstown headcanons as a little bonus. I love mutants in fallout so this was really fun. Thank you for the request, I hope you enjoy them.

Marcus (+ Jacobstown) Headcanons

He was slightly higher up, not like lieutenant or really important, certainly not just a random foot soldier, probably a platoon commander, maybe slightly higher. It’s also why a lot of mutants from the masters army and even nightkin will listen to him.

Used to be in charge of a platoon Tabitha was in before she was chosen to become a nightkin. It’s why she trusted him quite a lot before Rhonda died, but her mind convinced her he broke her, so she left.

Always been interested in politics. His vault experiment was what someone's life would be if everything about it was steeped in politics and preparing them for leading outside the vault. He was trained to be a leader.

This actually helped him quite a lot with his skills in the Master’s army, his time as mayor of Broken Hills and later on, Jacobstown.

Still is a bit bitter about the Vault Dweller destroying the vats, however, doesn’t take it out on the Chosen One. 

Absolutely *hated* travelling in the Highway man because of how cramped it was. Also hated the desert because of how fucking hot it was because there was no A/C or Radio. I mean seriously, I’m Australian and I hate the heat so much, and I’m tiny. Can you imagine being fucken gargantuan and living in the MOJAVE/CALIFORNIAN DESERT, HOLY SHIT.

For the first few months of his time as super mutant, he didn’t really remember a lot of his life as a human. However, he was drawn to politics, so whenever he was out, he would try to sneak in books about political theories, historical figures and how to successfully lead things. 

He remembers a lot more of his human life than he lets on, as later on his memories came back to him. He really didn’t like life in his vault due to cutthroat nature of politics. 

Tabitha also came from the same vault and they knew each other. They didn’t really interact or speak a lot, but Tabitha doesn’t exactly remember anything from when she was a human. Marcus thinks she hasn’t really changed at all, in both personality and appearance.

Neil was one of the first people he met after he awoke as a super mutant.

Doesn’t seem like the guy who likes to fight, however. He was a lot nicer to humans than other mutants, so he often dealt with the unity folks. 

When he was younger, he was more inclined to fight mostly because he felt like he had a lot more vitality then, despite not liking it. However, now, he’ll absolutely use diplomacy and only fights as an absolute last resort.

He also does help out with the psykers. He’ll hang out with them occasionally and talk. Trying to make sense of their blind rambling or comfort them when they’re freaking out. 

Due to the nightkin’s proneness to addiction, mental illness and psychotic breakdowns, chems and alcohol are strictly forbidden. However, if found of residential mutants, he has a strict belief in rehabilitation and not punishment. Outsiders who trade it or bring it in with them with the intent to sell have it taken away and destroyed, along with being fined if they do it again.

Before he reached out to Dr Henry, he considered reaching out to the Followers for help, but he decided not to because of how far it is.

Marcus watched Dr Henry like a hawk due to his relations on the Enclave for the first year he was in Jacobstown. 

[sejjiplinth]

#it’s so funny because i literally have a doc from 2020 with this exact premise but i never finished it 👁️ — from this post

hello! if you don’t mind sharing, what other thoughts did you have about marcus being alive during the games & sejanus needing to mentor him?

i’m so sorry it took so long to get to this but Here we go: (clarification that this is an au where sejanus doesn’t break into the arena to try and get him mid-games. 😭 as opposed to what i was originally building off of in the original post)

i’m certain sejanus’s mental health would’ve been at an all-time low, regardless of how marcus was doing. meaning he doesn’t sleep, doesn’t eat. all he does is stay in heavensbee hall and forces himself to look after marcus the best he can, but marcus does not want his help. and sejanus knows it, even through the screen.

the first and last time marcus looks sejanus in the eye is directly before the peacekeepers drag them all out into the arena for the first day of the games. there’s some thickness in it and sejanus finds himself wondering why marcus suddenly wanted to look at him, he won’t get an answer.

i still don’t think marcus would show any effort in surviving canonically, but if he did, he’d be stealing from the other tributes. the majority of them are either scared of him or know they’ll lose against him so there’s no fight for their gifts. he apologizes if they’re awake.

bouncing off of the first point, sejanus quite literally never goes home. he stays in heavensbee hall overnight with hardly any sleep and can’t even imagine getting up and walking back home because marcus could be dead by the time he gets back. i like to think ma comes up there everyday just to see him, she leaves him tins of cookies too, but of course those always go to his classmates.

marcus doesn’t ally. he doesn’t trust a soul, but he keeps a close eye on a few of the other tributes. some of them look over to him too. maybe it’s out of strategy, or protection, but he knows he’d never be able to kill any of them, even if they tried to hurt him first. it’s not in his blood. someone else who’s watching him just as closely knows that as well.

this one is self-indulgent (as if this whole thing isn’t lol) but they totally dream about each other. sejanus dreams of the past in his small, five minute cat naps and jolts in his chair when even a sliver of the present flashes in front of him, he’s earned nothing but judgmental stares, except maybe a few shoulder pats from lysistrata. marcus dreams of the present, of brown teary eyes and a creaky voice, pleading for him to eat. he shakes himself awake against the rough slab he sleeps on when a young sejanus visits him.

despite marcus refusing all of sejanus’s sponsors, he keeps sending them anyway. just to sort of say: i know you won’t forgive me, but i’m here. the other mentors look at him sideways for this, because he’s just wasting his sponsors. but the longer marcus is alive, the more sponsors he gets. he already had a ton before the games even began, there was no need to not use them, even if the whole ideal made sejanus’s stomach churn. (they weren’t completely wasted, after all. some of the other tributes would scurry and grab the food that had fallen.)

watching more and more tributes die only makes sejanus feel worse. while his fellow mentors are buzzing with excitement over the fact that their tributes are reaching the endgame, all sejanus can do is hold back tears and keep down the sickness, begging for any kind of protection for his tribute. he wishes he could protect marcus himself, but he knows he can’t, and it all falls into place eventually.

no matter how marcus dies in this universe, whether it be by surrendering to another tribute or by the snakes, sejanus (unsurprisingly) loses his damn mind 😭 he’s had so much more time to let his thoughts about marcus and their situation marinate, i think this breakdown would be worse. it’s hard not to feel anything but guilt and self-hatred when all he can do is remind himself that he had a chance to save marcus, but failed.

marcus would have regrets. thoughts consisting of dead family and of missed opportunities. he thinks that, maybe, there would’ve been an easier way to die. instead of dragging it out like this. he’s been dead from the moment his name was called at the reaping. of course, district 2’s tradition would cross his mind, and along with that thought comes sejanus. his old classmate, someone he never wanted to see again. but here he was, envisioning him before he passes. it’s stupid, he knows it. but he lets it happen.

[makoredeyes]

Keep it coming you say? 👀 I saw that tag! I'm ~quite~ bored, so here's a couple questions/whatever they're considered, lol.

Yes, flattery will get me very far here, indeed! To where? I do not know, but whatever, compliments! You deserve them. I'm rather sure my friends are tired of hearing me go on and on about destiny characters, ':)

How's your writing wip's going so far? I'm waiting very (im)patiently for any updates, I've totally not re-read everything forty-two times.. hope their all going well!

A little self indulgence here, but I like to think Andal Brask was the Hunter Vanguard when Osiris and Saint-14 were in, because.. come on, I'm rather sure the time frame adds up. I like to believe before, because their dynamic just seems really fun to me. Lots of great opportunities. (I partly blame that one fanart sylenth-l made of Andal and Osiris for this, it was really funny). What do you think their dynamic would be like?

What do you think it'd be like if the Iron Lords mysteriously came back alive? 👀 I'm talking, SIVA couldn't actually kill them because their ghosts hid in the light in their bodies, and SIVA only goes after non-organic materials right? Maybe it couldn't work it's way into the light, and as long as their ghost + light are intact, = alive. But *only* after the Warmind managed to get control over SIVA and free their physical bodies from harm? It's a thought I had, influenced by a few fics but I quite like the idea. Just imagine, a ghostless, lightless Osiris receiving word that maybe, they weren't as dead as he thought they were. Or Fel and Timur coming back only to realize what happened to Osiris?? Poor Sagira?? Learning lady Efrideet's alive? 👀 (Is that her name?)

Or perhaps, In this one fic, it's Timur and his special, take over your will little stunt he has, was keeping SIVA at bay, I think that's pretty neat too! So many possibilities! (If you were the one that wrote these, I hope you see this as a compliment cause I am not about to go dig through Ao3 to find them xD)

Either way, it'd be like a modern!au of the iron lords, for them at least, hah (I can just imagine Gheleon having a mental breakdown that their memorial involved fighting one another)

I can't really think of anything, but rest assured I will *probably* be back once I'm dome tormenting my poor boy Tevis

Ahaha yeesss YESSSS I feed me I'm such an attention whore lmao RIP XD. (fr tho bless you ;_; )

I am writing! There are longer gaps between posts rn because I have lots going on in my life, but also, because I am working on many fics at once. I counted the other day I have 26 WIPs but six I am actively working on in concert - three for Housefire that are all directly intermingled plot and timing-wise to the point where I'm not even entirely sure what order I'll be posting them in yet, another chapter for Things Found (I am trying to stay 2 chapters ahead with that to make sure I have a cohesive story for it), and two XXX stand-alone one-shots! I should fish out another teaser for everyone soon. I think it'll be one of the one-shots that makes it out next tbh they're the furthest along. But the naughty stuff is also the slowest to get written bc I yanno...can't write that stuff at work, etc. haha. But I've felt a new wind of motivation lately for writing and am picking away at these projects pretty regularly. <3

I'm going to admit I am not very well-read on the hunter squad in general, BUT iirc I believe Andal was Vanguard during the City Age. He was definitely around as I recall his presence in the comics. The problem with that time is that Osiris was largely absent. This was when the Cult of Osiris was gaining traction, and Osiris' obsession with the Darkness and the Vex was really heating up. He was neglecting his duties to the Vanguard (with Ikora often standing in as proxy for him) and he wasn't really paying attention to anyone else. Like. At all. There was a lot of unhappy tension even with Saint at that time. Andal, by all accounts, was a damn good fella though, and while I think just about everyone nettled Osiris, Andal also stuck up for him where he could. Even if Osiris couldn't appreciate that in the moment I'm sure he would come to later. I look at Osiris and see him as he is now, with some hard lessons learned and some hard losses under his belt, realizing a little too late some of the damn good souls he had in his court, Andal included. All of that said, 100% in a lighter, easier setting, a free-spirit like Andal (and/or Cayde...heaven forbid them both together!) would drive a stuffed shirt like Osiris up an absolute freaking wall with pure comical results, hands down.

(a side note, a brain storm, an insane thought that just poisoned my brain - a sweeter moment hidden from time: Andal's guitar and this gift of song Saint has hinted Osiris has....??????! I'm not melting it's just hot in here, right???)

As for Ironsbane and SIVA... I have INDEED put an awful lot of thought into this. Quite a lot. So much. I have my own ideas on ways to circumvent the disaster, O Reader Mine, but you're going to have to wait a while longer for me to write it. :3 (Housefire is, after all, ultimately, a fixit )

*but no SIVA attacks whatever it is programmed to, organic or not: and Rasputin set it on hundreds of Iron Lords and wiped them all out with the sole exception Efrideet and Saladin with the directives “REPLICATE, ELIMINATE, IMMUNIZE” it was not what SIVA was made to do but he deliberately repurposed it into a weapon. (I could go on for years about Rasputin and his darker epochs, but especially his misappropriation of SIVA lol)

** Your mention of Timur and his spooky skills DID remind me of another fic I need to get back to as well OTL TT_TT I still have requests I took in January I have yet to complete. At this rate it's going to take me all year to get them all done and by then I'll be taking more aahaha whuups.