#I was even working on a hurt/comfort thing but for some reason cannot write the comfort part of it

[isthatafuckinggayangel]

I've never really been one to write a lot of angst, but damn I really do not feel like writing comfort or fluff LMAO

[obsessiveloveistheonlylove]

Hey, I've read your last yandere Bruce, neglected fam reader and it gave me an idea. What if instead of the reader wasting all that money or luxury, she saved most of it in a closed account and when Bruce bought the apartment she made him sign it in her name as a plan to when the right time comes or if she needs to, she will sell the apartment and use all the money she saved to leave to start over in another country. Imagine Bruce finding out when she reaches the point where she put her apartment for sale, or better, actually selling it to a friend or someone they know and actually leaving.

Yan!batfam with neglected!sister reader leaving the state/country

Anon your mind is fucking golden! I also thought of the reader having the apartment signed in her name just because Bruce wanted her to feel comfortable but I love the layers this adds.

Hopefully these couple of hcs are good enough while I work on pt 2. Also if anyone else has any questions about any other scenarios or certain characters feel free to send them in I'll try to respond whenever I have time and I write for any gender reader.

Word count ; 1073

Unedited

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˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ bruce is not happy with this turn of events at all. He wasn't expecting nor did he sense that this was going to happen, you didn't post about it or even reference moving on any of your social media apps which he lovingly stalks watches over to make sure you are content with your life and also because he likes seeing you happy and enjoying all the things he got you. And it hurts him a little that you didn't even say something to him … he knows you don't owe him that, not when your relationship is still in a fragile state but he's trying.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ he only figures out after someone in the fam(most likely dick) broke in dropped by your apartment and likely scared one of your friends shitless.. obviously both parties are shocked but your friend more so as they don't know who the hell just broke into their house, dick is shocked when this random person claims that he's trespassing in their home. After that awkward situation dick immediately reports back to Bruce about this over the comms and with some digging from Tim they're able to find out that you had sold the house and the exact date that you had, approximately a month ago. That sends off alarm bells for the entire batfam, where are you now?! It takes an hour or so of searching to find out exactly where you moved and when they do they can't decide what to do with the information.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚Alfred is the voice of reason in this family, he discourages the batboys from immediately doing everything in their power to bring you home, he advocated for you to live wherever you choose and says that it's your life and that the family cannot choose for you. Alfred loves you dearly you are basically his child he views you the way he views Bruce. He may be a yandere but he's a selfless one he truly only has your best interest in mind. His words are like a slap of reality for some of the Batfam mainly Tim, Steph and Jason all three of then become a lot more hesitant to go through with their plans to bring you home on the other hand dick, bruce, and damian are adamant that you aren't safe unless they can be nearby.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ Nobody can come to a decision the night they find out and so they decide to sleep on it until they can come to an agreement the manor will be tense for a week or two at most before they spring into action, they will all eventually cave to their selfish needs even if some feel guilty for doing it. Alfred will sigh disappointedly but ultimately allow them to go through with their plans he only hopes you can forgive him for not doing more

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ you on the other hand will be left unaware to all that's going down you'd gotten a new phone and lived in a whole new state maybe even country! They couldn't bother you here. You were happier than you have been for a long time. Even if you missed your old friends you still tried to keep in touch over the phone.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ as for why you did this? It's likely the other batboys' faults, Bruce is annoying but he's not nearly as demanding of your time as the others, namely dick. Dick is insanely clingy once you're on his radar and he becomes aware of how much his neglect affected you mentally. The guilt for him was all consuming when he found out how much he hurt you and that he neglected you for quite literally no reason, you just didn't matter to him at the time. the thought now makes him sick, of course you matter, what the hell was his problem!! Dick would have constantly broke your boundaries by hugging and touching and cuddling you he feels like he needs to make it up to you by being a good big brother, even if that's not what you need anymore after all it's far too late you're already an adult but he refuses to see it that way you're still his baby sister. He inserts himself into your life constantly and even if he'll pay for things he'll only do so under the circumstances that the money be spent ‘together’ like sure he'll take you to that fancy restaurant but it's going to be made into a sister-brother bonding moment, like yeah he'll let you use his card to go shopping but only if he's going with you. Even if you don't use him for money he will still find ways to insert himself into your life. He's overwhelmingly intense and his behavior mixed with the other overbearing members in the batfam plus the added overwhelming feelings of having people who ignored you all your life suddenly want your time and attention is probably why you felt like you had to leave.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ you won't be gone for more than a month or two before your dragged back to Gotham and back to your family, only this time you've got a metaphorical collar around your neck as now you're likely brought back to the manor always under surveillance and on the off chance you're still allowed to own your own apartment again just know it will be heavily bugged along with your phone courtesy of Tim even if he feels bad about invading your privacy he knows they need to see your texts to make sure you're not planning to leave Gotham again. Oh and now the bat members will each take turn patrolling your house and following you from the shadows to make sure you're safe.

___

All in all I'd say you'll have your fun for a little while but ultimately you'll just drive them deeper in their obsession and they will likely kidnap and bring you home.

[topazadine]

Avoiding therapy speak in writing

I think we all know by now that therapy speak is irritating and unrealistic, especially if you are writing in a fantasy world that doesn't even have modern psychology.

Part of the reason that it is so annoying is that it is the definition of telling instead of showing: characters are just plainly informing us of their feelings rather than making us work for a better understanding. It's cheap and boring. Instead of making your characters seem like complex individuals with their own hangups and difficulties, they seem like plot points programmed to tell us things.

But obviously, you want to put these people in situations and have them talk about it! How do you do that without sounding maudlin? Here are some options.

Listen to real arguments/conversations

I cannot stress enough how important it is to listen to how actual real human beings talk to each other during heightened emotional states. They don't have to be nasty abusers, and they don't have to be perfect angels, just everyday people doing their normal thing.

Of course, I'd hope you're not seeing people argue all the time, but if you do happen to see it, listen carefully and notice how people actually address their problems. Think back to tough conversations that you have had, even if you wouldn't classify them as arguments. Consider how people acted and reacted to one another. Notice how normal humans talk about issues outside of therapy, even intelligent and emotionally evolved people.

I've had years of therapy, and even I do not talk in therapy ways about my issues when I'm talking to my family or friends. It just feels cheesy and fake outside of that particular setting - plus, it freaks other people out and can seem kind of manipulative. Try talking like that in a real conversation and see how uncomfortable it is. You'll understand why avoiding therapy speak is important.

Consider the character's own hangups

Just as everyone has their own unique speaking style and mindset, so do we all have our own argument styles. These are often informed by our pasts and upbringing; they are as varied as our own histories. However, there are a few different options.

Someone with a happy upbringing may be more assertive and willing to address their problems because they had that demonstrated to them as children.

A spoiled child will grow up to be a demanding adult who refuses to give any quarter.

Those who got yelled at a lot as children may shut down and fawn to avoid getting hurt.

Someone who grew up in a violent household may mimic that behavior and get incredibly aggressive when upset.

Individuals whose parents didn't teach them emotional regulation will lash out and get loud.

Manipulative people may stay very calm and gaslight the other person, or they may get hysterical to garner sympathy and make people focus on comforting them.

Someone who has gone to therapy may revert to their original argument style, or they may imperfectly apply what they have learned in a way that feels a bit unnatural. They may start out with rage, then force themselves to calm down through grounding techniques.

People who have been coached through previous emotional outbursts could demand a time out, then fail to actually calm themselves down.

Some may refuse to acknowledge they are upset and insist, in increasingly forceful terms, that they are fine.

Others may get quiet or crack a joke to ease the tension, but it doesn't really help.

Keep each confrontation short

IRL, emotional confrontations are generally not that long. They don't go on for hours and hours, though it can feel that way. No one is going on and on about their feelings and sharing every little detail of how they feel (at least not that I know of personally, maybe other people are different).

Even the worst arguments I have had, the real nexus of the argument was maybe an hour or two, though the fallout lasted much longer. I'd say there was an hour maximum of real, active confrontation, preceded or followed by hours/days/weeks of simmering frustration.

Why? Because arguments are exhausting. You don't have the energy for that in the heat of the moment. Yes, feuds and fights can last years, but each actual confrontation is short.

For longer, more serious issues, hash it out over a few sessions rather than all at once. It's rare to get everything out of the way immediately unless the characters already have a strong, loving relationship.

Show incongruencies

Especially for more reserved people, they will likely have their emotions leaking all over the place but won't actually say anything. As such, focus on body language while keeping the conversation more focused on the plot. For example, Character A might be crying but still trying to argue their point about whatever is going on.

Address physical complaints instead of emotional ones

In many cases, people will use "I'm tired" or "I didn't sleep well" or "I'm not feeling great" as shorthand for whatever is actually bothering them. It relieves pressure by not making them talk about upsetting matters while still addressing their discomfort in some form.

You should also consider the fact that some people can't connect physical sensations to feelings, so they may genuinely feel ill and not really understand why. This is especially common in people who can't emotionally regulate or have been through trauma.

For myself, I tend to somatize my feelings, so I might not feel upset, but I will feel physically sick. My stomach will hurt, my chest will get tight, or I'll get a headache, but my emotional state will seem calm. This isn't all that unusual, and many people experience this to different degrees.

As such, you can have your character say that their stomach hurts, or that they have a headache and can't discuss this anymore, or that they need to go lie down because they're dizzy. If we know they're relatively healthy, this can be a clue that they're getting overwhelmed but either cannot pinpoint their emotions or don't want to discuss them.

Let characters advance and retreat

A lot of the time, someone will address a scary emotion and then retreat again, sometimes over a period of hours, days, or even weeks. This is normal: most of us don't have the emotional fortitude to forge ahead through something difficult all in one go. Character A may say something vulnerable, then change the topic, laugh it off, say they're done discussing it, or even leave the situation.

Leave emotions partially unaddressed

Again, it's rare for someone to spill out everything they're feeling all in one go. As such, have Character A address the most important thing - or the least important, depending on their level of emotional maturity - and let it be done for then.

They might say their small piece, but when someone tries to probe deeper, they don't have an answer, or they get "stuck" on that one emotional level and cannot go further.

If Character B keeps pushing, then they may get incredibly upset and push back, or retreat.

Have Character B point out the feelings

Works especially well if the other character is a close companion or a parental figure. Often, people who know us really well will have better insight into our emotions than we do. Or, we might have good insight into our emotions but are still too afraid to open up. Having Character B point out the issue gives Character A grace to be more honest.

I can't tell you how many times I've been really upset, so I've distracted from the issue by getting angry about something completely different. Then, my mom will gently point out that I'm not actually crying about my new plastic cup being broken or whatever; I'm actually upset about XYZ. In that moment, I realize I've been caught out and admit that yes, that's what I'm really upset about.

Have Character A address it with a third character

Who among us hasn't gone to someone else to talk about our feelings? Having a third party serve as a sounding board is normal. Sometimes, Character A will feel such catharsis from this conversation that they don't address it as thoroughly with Character B.

Of course, you can use this to your advantage and create more tension if the third character gives bad advice or is biased.

Remember that just because the third party responded well does not mean that Character B does. You also have to avoid omniscience and remember that Character B wasn't privy to that conversation.

Have one confrontation be a stand-in for a larger one

I always think about the "The Iranian Yogurt Is Not the Issue" post when I think about this. Often times, things like not doing the dishes or whatever aren't actually the big deal: it's lack of boundaries, communication, or respect. A minor argument can be shorthand for a larger one that is too challenging for the characters to tackle.

This isn't just creating drama for the hell of it, though; it's about exploring the larger issues without making the characters lay it out on the table. A good reader will be able to see it's not about the Iranian Yogurt as long as you set up the relationship well.

Currently, I am writing a story where Uileac and his sister Cerie go to rescue Uileac's husband, Orrinir. On the way there, Uileac idly comments on how he wonders where a waterfall comes from because he's trying to distract himself from thinking about the fact that his husband is kidnapped and possibly dead.

Cerie, being pretty wound up too, starts arguing with him about it because she's like "why is this relevant? We're kind of too busy to think about geology right now!" Uileac gets annoyed at her for being so aggro, and she gets annoyed at him for being so irreverent. Both of them are upset about something completely different, but they're too scared and panicked to actually address that, so they release their frustrations by complaining about waterfalls.

Those bad vibes have to go somewhere, but neither of them are very good at talking about their feelings (though very good at stuffing them down). As such, they take the pressure off by sniping at one another. You've probably done this too, when you get into a dumb argument about something absolutely pointless because there's something you don't feel strong enough to discuss.

There's also the fact that if you're mad at someone about something but feel it's too stupid or petty to discuss, that frustration will leak out and everything else they do will annoy you, leading to a bunch of irrelevant arguments.

Use "reaffirmation" gestures

I talked about this in a different post, but after an argument, the "make up" stage doesn't always involve going "ohhh I forgive you" and big hugs and kisses, especially when the two characters aren't emotionally mature.

Instead, Character A makes gestures that reaffirm the relationship. This could be offering to do something Character B needs, making plans for later, or changing the topic to discuss something the other character cares about ("how are your cats doing?") etc.

Note that these "reaffirmation" gestures aren't the same as the cycle of abuse. This is more when two characters have had a difficult emotional conversation but aren't really sure how to continue being emotionally open, so they revert to something safer that still shows they care. They're not over-the-top gestures either, but more a special attention to something the other person loves. Knowing what the other person loves also demonstrates the depth of their relationship.

As always, I can't tell you what to do with your writing.

You are the crafter of your own story, and if you want people to talk like therapists for whatever reason, that's your choice. However, we want characters to feel like real people, and most real people don't lay it all out on the table every single time they're upset. If they do, they might be trauma vomiting, which is icky in and of itself.

Healthy communication isn't always perfect communication. People can have strong, loving relationships and still get things wrong - we're human. Having people calmly and rationally and easily talk about their feelings every single time is not only kind of boring, but it also feels weird, because unless we're primed to discuss those difficult topics and know we're perfectly safe, we're not going to do that.

People don't even do that in therapy, where they are paying for the service of talking about their feelings! Therapists also don't always do that IRL!

We're humans, and your characters need to feel like humans as well. That means letting them be imperfect communicators and using context clues rather than making them do all the work for the reader.

If you liked my advice, consider purchasing my book, 9 Years Yearning, for $3!

[msmk11]

Hiii!! I love your work so much and was wondering if you could do a poly marauders (and lily) x hufflepuff coded fem reader comfort fic 💛 maybe they are just having a bad day, being insecure and everyone tries there best to comfort her? thankyou (even if you decide not to)

Omg hi lovely! Thank you so much for the request. This is actually my first ever and I’m so excited and happy to write it for you! I hope it lives up to your standards - MK <3

Just Hold Me For Awhile

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Poly!Marauders + Lily x fem!reader

Word count: 1.3k

Cw: low self-esteem, hurt/comfort, sad/anxious reader

A/n: Baby’s first request! Ngl I rewrote this like three times, but now it finally feels genuine and I’m very happy with it. I hope you all enjoy :)

There is no evidence to confirm your fears besides the incessant voice inside your head.

You’re not good enough.

You’re not smart enough.

You’re not funny enough.

You’re not pretty enough.

Eventually, they’re all going to leave you.

You are going to end up alone.

Deep down, you know none of these things are true. But reason is no match for your anxiety and the extraordinariness of each of your partners.

James- best Gryffindor chaser the team has had

in years.

Lily- number one in your class.

Remus- Casanova of Gryffindor tower.

Sirius- absolutely fearless in the face of adversity.

You- the ordinary Hufflepuff who just got lucky.

It consistently amazes you that you ended up in a relationship with these four bold, well-known, and well-liked Gryffindors. They all love you so much and you feel grateful that you get to love and be loved by them everyday.

But no matter how much love and care they give you, it cannot entirely soothe the deep-rooted feeling of inadequacy lurking within. You can’t help but sometimes feel out of place in your own relationship- not because your partners exclude you, but rather because your obvious ordinariness situates you outside their circular of extraordinariness.

It’s a feeling that’s lingered since the four first showed interest in you, but recently it’s been possessing you tenfold.

All these thoughts are racing around in your head as you sit at the foot of Sirius’ bed in the boys’ dormitory. Peter is off on a date, leaving you five with some much needed alone time. The moment is serene, with Sirius painting your nails a soft green, Lily braiding Sirius’ hair out of his face, Remus dangling over the edge talking to you three, and James on top of him, massaging his back.

The four are talking about some recent Hogwarts drama, so you’ve sort of zoned out of the conversation, only adding in commentary here or there.

“I mean, I’m so glad Pandora hexed him,” Lily says, “he totally deserved it.”

“I just never would’ve pinned her as the type of person to hex someone, with the way she’s so soft spoken and all,” Sirius replies.

“She does hang out with your brother and Junior though,” Remus reminds him.

“And Evan is her brother,” James adds with a laugh, “it’s in her blood. I just wish I could’ve seen Mulciber’s face.”

“It probably looked as dumb and stupid as always, if not more so,” Sirius jokes.

Everyone busts out laughing and you faintly chuckle through your anxiety-induced brain fog.

Someone taps the side of your cheek.

“Doll, you there?”

You jolt out of your trance and look at Sirius, “hmm? Sorry, what?”

“I asked if you wanted anything else done to your nails.”

You briefly glance down at your perfectly manicured nails, “oh, uh, yeah. Perfect as always, my star.”

Remus reaches down and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, “are you okay, dove? I feel like you’ve been awfully quiet today.”

You smile a little and wave him off, “oh yeah, fine. Just tired, Moons.”

“Wanna come take a nap, angel?” James asks sweetly, opening his arms.

Though you’re not actually that tired, it’s mainly just an excuse, you can’t pass up the offer from your cuddliest of boyfriends. You peck Sirius’ cheek as a thank you for doing your nails and then crawl onto James’ lap. You situate your head on his chest and curl up as he wraps his arms around you. His musky cologne eases the knots in your stomach a little and you try to focus on the steady beat of his heart.

“Better?” he mumbles into your hair.

You quietly hum in confirmation.

You keep your eyes closed all cuddled up with James as you listen to your partners quietly chat. Within minutes of your getting settled you sense movement on the bed. Remus shifts upwards to lay next to you and James- you can tell from the sudden increase in body heat- and you feel Sirius and Lily lay down at your feet.

Suddenly, you feel a pair of rough lips- Remus’ lips- against your forehead. Though he thinks you’re asleep, you hear him whisper, “get some rest, my sweet girl.”

Someone’s head falls on your knee and then you hear Lily’s voice, “she’s so pretty when she sleeps, isn’t she? All soft and peaceful.”

You recognize Sirius’ habitual stroking of your leg with his thumb as he adds, “I didn’t think she could get any softer or sweeter, but here we are.”

“Our angel,” James coos.

Though you suppose most would feel pretty lucky to hear these things about themselves, they only make you feel worse.

You hate yourself.

You hate yourself for having four wonderful, caring, and loving partners, and you can’t even appreciate them because of your own self-loathing. You despise this nasty habit of self-sabotage, but you’re not sure how to break it.

As you lay there and listen to them say such nice things about you, you feel a lump grow in your throat and hot tears spring to your eyes. The tightness in your chest is near painful, and you need some relief.

You try to shift just the slightest- as if you’re just moving around in your sleep- to bury your head in James’ chest, out of everyone’s eyesight.

But once you let one tear drop, a whole rainstorm comes. You try and keep your sobs and sniffling quiet, but your hot, wet tears give you away to James.

“Angel?” James asks worriedly. He pulls you away from his chest to look at your face and sees the snotty, tear-stained mess you’ve become.

“Dove,” Remus pleads worriedly, “what’s wrong? What’s happened.”

Your sobs are too strong for you to respond and you can only shrug your shoulders. Your eyes are blinded by tears and you can’t see their faces, but you know they’re filled with concern and worry. To make them worry like this only causes you to cry harder.

You’re not really aware of what’s happening around you. All you know is one minute your in James’ arms, and the next in Sirius’. Sirius strokes your hair away from your face and holds you in his lap like a baby. He rocks you back and forth quietly, not saying anything at all.

It’s nice, not having to say anything and just crying. Even if you had the ability to speak through your tears, you don’t know that you could. There’s no easy way to describe your feelings of inadequacy, and no amount of ‘talking it out’ could ever just solve the problem either. So you just cry. Cry because you’re angry that you feel this way. Cry because you’re sad. Cry because you’re tired. Tired of not feeling like you’re ever enough. And you cry just because you can. Because you know that your partners will be there for you for as long as you need to cry.

And when the sobs finally quiet to a hiccup here or there, you appreciate that they give you silence to breathe and just process everything.

Lily stands and wanders off, coming back with a glass of water that she presses into your hands. You sip it gently before James takes it from you and sets it on the nightstand. Remus goes and grabs a hot washcloth, wiping your face oh so gently with a soft look in his brown eyes. Sirius hands you back to James- your most tactile partner- and settles again at your feet.

Then, with the most quiet and tender voice, Sirius asks you only one thing, “What do you need from us?”

“Just hold me for awhile.”

And so, like many days before, and hopefully every day after, you five pile into bed, reveling in each other’s warmth and security.

As you lay surrounded by your lovers, you know that even though those same lousy feelings continue to reside inside of you, you will figure it out. And when you’re ready to talk, or rant, or cry some more, your partners will be there.

[loviestar58]

💚~Ekko bf/general HC's~💚

Just like everyone else, I'm in love with the boy who shattered time, so I made some HC's I have for him. Some are pertaining to him being your lover, others are just general headcannons

Enjoy‼️💖

⏳~Ekko likes to have "Work dates". Where you both either hang out in Ekkos workshop or down in the open Hideout and work on stuff together. It's mostly in Ekkos workshop though, him tinkering with something or trying to create or improve an invention for the firelights. You would help bounce ideas off of his own or would help with tool organization. When not talking about work, it'd be silent, music on an old record player playing in the space. You would hum the music and Ekko would join sometimes as he worked. Other times you just have small talk or make jokes with each other, just having some fun as you hang out together. And yes, many kisses would be stolen by each other during this

⏳~He has a bit of a short temper, and due to this you can get into small fights sometimes. Resulting in either you both being silent to each other for a day with some space from each other or a big argument that causes both to be stressed and can last for a good while. It never gets too bad, but it still hurts both of you. Arguments/reasons can range from being unsafe, pet peeves, mistakes being made, to stress getting the best of him

Ekko is usually the one to apologize first even if he's in the right. He'll usually make a gift for you to show his apology along with strong, meaningful words, owning up to his mistakes. You both always talk and make up. Never staying mad for too long, communicating effectively. It was a struggle at first, but it got better over time, more on Ekkos end

He can never stay angry at you or hold a grudge for too long

⏳~Some days Ekko is so dead tired that he'll go to your room, startling you, and before you could ask what was wrong, he'd flop right on top of you and zonk out. Yeah, you cannot escape. Once he's asleep, he's asleep. And he's heavy.

So unfortunately you just gotta lay there under his weight for like two hours, crushed ribs and rough breathing. But you don't mind. You'd'd just wrap your arms around him and try your best to shift him on his side so you could cuddle and hold him. Sometimes it works and sometimes it doesn't

⏳~On the flip side, if the day has taken its toll on you, say if you're physically and mentally tired but Ekko isn't, you'd go to his room and ask for cuddles or just any kind of comfort. Ekko would always comply, even if he was working on some stuff, he'd allow you to sit on his lap as he worked, one hand writing things down while the other rubs your back in soothing motions, him rambling about his tech while turning his head to plant a kiss to your neck or temple every now and then for the added comfort before continuing to ramble

⏳~Ekko draws you all the time. We've all seen the murals and his sketchbooks. He has a specific sketchbook full of silly doodles and serious art pieces of you at pretty much every angle. Different outfits, expressions, poses, everything. You're his muse and he can't help but capture the beauty he sees when he sees it. It's not too often, but once he gets to drawing, there's no stopping him. You take notice of this pretty quickly, not like he hides it, he proudly shows you his art of you. It makes you blush and flustered every time, cause you never thought anyone would see you this way. Ekko relishes in that red face and goofy smile you get seeing a picture, smiling his gap-toothed grin himself, feeling proud of himself before starting to draw you again, you watching as his eyes flick to her every few seconds, both of your hearts beating hard in your chests. Oh to be loved by an artist

⏳~You both take turns being the yapper and the listener in the relationship. Some days it could be Ekko talking about his tech and how it works while you listen and barely understands a word, other days it's you rambling on and on about this cool book series you read, an artist you like, or something cool you saw. Or honestly just your day, he loves hearing about what you get up to in the Hideout. Ekko listens and gives his thoughts and commentary on what you say. On the days you both feel like yapping, get ready for quick back and forth banter and talking, overlapping ideas and media, and bursts of passion in the case of yelling. This, as well as nothing getting done that day

⏳~As a goodbye or a hello, he presses your foreheads together for a solid few seconds, eyes closed and relishing in each others presence. The most intimate gesture of affection for Zaunites. Each of you usually has a hand on the others cheek or neck to hold each other there. If it's a more dramatic/heartfelt greeting or departure, you'll kiss instead, wanting something a bit more intimate, desperate firm grips and bodies pressed together in a loving embrace

⏳~Ekko has a habit of staring. Not a glare, or even zoned out. It's always soft admiration and observation. His eyes would be soft and round, a subtle shine to them as his pupils dialte with love as he looks at you. His eyebrows wouldn't be furrowed as usual, down in a gentle and relaxed manner. He'd have the softest smile tug on his lips, maybe even sigh dreamily, just admiring the person he managed to call his own in this chaotic world.

⏳~Ekko tinkers and invents, so he's always trying to come up with silly little gadgets or items to make for you. His favorite things are making metal flowers, small toys, and accessories. He'd given you a small amount of metal flowers one time when he found you looking at the small flowers growing at the bottom of the tree. "They aren't as beautiful as the real thing, but at least these will last longer". Yeah, he's a bit cheesy, I said it. He made a small firelight shaped night light for you to use in case you got up in the middle of the night. And he has made multiple accessories for you: pairs of earrings, necklaces, bracelets, and rings for you to wear, if you like jewelery. You appreciate each and every gift, but always tells him he doesn't have to give you anything. He does anyways, it's one of his love languages. He can't help it. And even if it wasn't, he'd make you as many gifts as he likes cause he loves you, that's it

⏳~Ekko is ticklish on his neck and sides. You takes full advantage of this by poking his sides unexpectedly, which earns you a startled "Ah! Hey!" and Ekko curling up to defend himself, all while you laugh. You'd sneak up on Ekko and jump on his back, hugging him close before placing a kiss on his neck, he'd recoil like a turtle and try to get you off, but you'd hang on and keep going at his neck to make him laugh more, the sweet smooth sounds of it music to you ears. Plus it was funny to see him recoil like that

Likes/reblogs/comments are appreciated ‼️

This is new for me lol, I love him sm. I have a few more but this should be enough for now

Moots from other platforms and irls if you see this, no you don't 😁

Maybe more of this soon??? Idk we'll see...

Itty bitty scary tag uhhh @misswynters

[deathbxnny]

Oh yeah, raising literal childish soldiers canNOT be good for one's conscious 🥲

But, I'm glad you're eager for more of that succulent emotional hurt, though this one will be... different the previous ones. And without further adieu, let's get into it 😈

So, I've noticed how, in this series, any harm sent mother's way has always been somewhat second-handed, and psychological in nature. Physical arm has always gone to the Children of The House. So, what if for this scenario, "Mother" is the unexpected one coming to harm?

Now, I could definitely write up a scenario of "Mother" getting hurt in some drastic way, and Arle and the House Kids retaliate in grand fashion, but that would be... kinda generic, no? Rather, I'm thinking of a scenario where "Mother" is hurt by the one thing that not even The Knave herself can protect her from.

Herself.

Or more specifically, her own body. Lemme explain.

So, "Mother" is in a position that can be IMMENSELY stressful and emotionally draining, so imagine one day, it's about as normal as life in the Hearth can be, "Mother" is at work, performing or assigning chores, or maybe prepping a meal for the kids, with some their help. When suddenly, she's hit with immense chest pains, as though her rib cage is squeezing around her heart, it becomes hard to breath, hard to focus because of how dizzy she's become. That's right, Mama suffer (or very nearly suffer, that detail is up to you) a literal heart attack, give everyone in the House a good scare, if you would 🤭.

And so, after this incident "Mother" is pretty forced to "take it easy" so that she can recover (which according to some brief searches I've done, can take anywhere from a couple weeks to a few months). And, considering how "Mother" is definitely seems like she'd be something of a workaholic, someone who feels she needs to be present and contributing to be a "worthy" mother, suddenly being forced to take a break from all her usual daily tasks must make for an absolutely miserable experience for her.

So, in the meanwhile, Arle and the kids try to figure out some things to cheer her up and keep her mind occupied while she recovers.

X Anon

Heartfelt devotion. | Arlecchino x Fem!Wife!Reader

(Part one) (Part two) (Part three) (Part four) (Read more parts under Arlecchino's name in my Genshin Masterlist!)

A/N: Hello X Anon! Thank you so much for your request. I really enjoyed writing this. In fact, this turned out to be a bit of a personal piece due to me having had the experience of an immideate family member suffering a heart attack, so I put some of that into this fic, which is why I took a bit of a different approach to your idea. Either way, I hope it's to your liking X Anon!!<33

Content: Heart attacks, comas, angst, hurt/comfort, wife reader, mentions of Curcabena, reader becomes a bit delirious, trauma, sfw

Reader is afab and uses she/her pronouns!!

((Not proofread))

The will of the Tsaritsa never rested for anything.

The expectation for everyone to continue until nothing was left of them always weighed on your shoulders, but it did little to ever make itself noticeable in the ranks of the Fatui. Exhaustion? Sickness? Death? None of that was an excuse enough to stop. You were all motivated by the goal ahead, even if uncertainty of what exactly it was often lingered in your mind. It was inspiring to work hard even in the face of pure agony and hell. It's just how things were. That's just how you kept going for so long as an organization.

The Tsaritsa's gentle kindness was ultimately not enough of a reason when the cold, icy snow and wind of your home ripped at your skin hungrily for more of your soul to take.

And you especially, as the wife of a Harbinger and "Mother" of the House of Hearth, felt that deeply.

Day in, day out.

It was all the same in the house of Hearth that forever kept busy no matter the occasion. You were unofficially the head of it all. Your wife often had better things to do as a diplomat and therefore entrusted you with your family from day one. The title and duties of the "Mother" weighed on you painfully, just as expected from you. And whilst you've spent endless years attempting to repair the relationship between that title and the family, you still didn't feel like it was enough. The woman that raised you and the 4th Harbinger haunted you with every step, always looking over your shoulder with that sinister smile of hers. You could feel the scrutiny in her gaze, see the rage in her grin, hear her venomous words in that sweet, gentle voice of hers.

Arlecchino had moved on from her by taking on the title of "Father," but you remained cursed. You remained in the past where you belonged, fixing connections that died for a reason, yet you were stuck with due to your own doing. There were no regrets in your actions initially, but now, after seeing the carnage and death you had caused to your own children by sending them off to the grim reaper yourself, you realise that over time, your mind and body has become worn down dangerously. You were beginning to fall apart, yet tried to keep yourself together just enough to continue every day. Like everyone else here.

It was getting hard to move and sleep lately, however, something that should've unnerved you when it was first starting to become noticeable. But you waved it off like everything else, your mind focused on your daily tasks and responsibilities instead. With your wife abroad back in the motherland for a Harbinger meeting, you were stuck shouldering absolutely everything again, not that you ever protested or cared much. You saw it as a necessity, perhaps even an honor to work at her side and take care of such an important part of the Fatui. If only the glamor and patriotism didn't melt away every time you got a new death report regarding more of your children. Crucabena used to read them as though they were the latest fashion magazine, a content smile on her lips every time. You, on the other hand, shed endless tears, finding no enjoyment in what you've become.

How did she do it? How was she able to be so indifferent and cruel to you all without feeling a thing? What was the secret to absolut absolvation from the guilt and shame? Years later, you still find yourself asking these questions in the shadows of the night, your blurry reflection in the water of the cold bathtub mirroring her image. You wonder if you even were any different than her ultimately. You felt like you did the same things as her, just less cruel, less callous. Was your care and love for the children enough to make a difference?

"Of course not. You and I are one in the same, my dear child." You often hear her voice whisper to you in those painfully sleepless nights, and you wished Peruere was there to keep her quiet again.

Taking a deep breath, you let out a weak hum when you felt someone grab onto your shoulder with a gentle shake. "Mother?" Lyney asked carefully, brows furrowed in worry at your near catatonic state lately. You barely seemed alive at times, your blank stare staring through everyone, some of your tasks even neglected seemingly unbeknownst to you. Your movement was sluggish, slow, and clumsy. Everyone noticed this, and the worry was beginning to seep into all the children belonging to the house. This was nothing like you. And yet, you didn't seem to be aware of it. Or maybe you were ignoring it.

Either way, Lyney had enough of just watching you suffer, his gaze becoming stern when you gave him a tired look. "Have you... slept or eaten properly lately? You look ill." The answer was 'no' to both, of course. You haven't been able to eat much due to the sudden huge workload you were confronted with ever since their Father left for much longer than usual. Sleep was out of the question due to the odd pain and pressure in your chest whenever you laid down. This led to you often sitting in a chair instead in front of the fireplace in hopes of getting some sleep that way... but unfortunately, that didn't work either.

Gently shaking your head, you mustered the strength to give him a shaky smile in hopes of calming him. "I'm alright, dear, don't worry about me. It's just a little stress, nothing more." Ever so perceptive, you sighed when you saw his eyes narrow. He didn't believe you, and you certainly wouldn't believe yourself either. Something was terribly wrong, but you had no time to deal with it. You didn't want Lyney to take on any duties he didn't have to yet, even if he'll most likely be your wife's successor one day. The pressure was too much. You didn't want him to feel the way you did.

Behind him, you saw two agents enter the kitchen through the backdoor. Masks obscured their faces, but the aura they let in was grim and cold. One you were so awfully familiar with, including the documents in their hands. A red envelope peeked out, a silent sign of more carnage and death raised by your own hands. The pressure in your chest suddenly increased once more when the guilt crept back up your body and whispered those evil words of self-doubt into your ears again. "How... How many this time?" You breathed out, a hand pressed to your chest in pain. Lyney grabbed onto your arm in surprise as your body nearly keeled over. Your mind was ringing, and you couldn't even hear the response to your question anymore.

It was all too much. You couldn't take it anymore. In the forefront of your mind, the woman that raised you gave you a "proud" smile, like she always did. It sickened you, for it meant that you've done something that once again proved that your title was cursed.

"Mother!" Lyney yelled out in panic, quick to alert everyone around them to your collapsing form. This has never happened before. The Lady of the House never fell, never faltered. And yet, as you now laid there on the floor, hands pressed against your chest as you heaved painfully, unable to breathe, you realised that everything you've done in your life has led you to this point. This was karma. This was the pain you deserved. Your children's terrified faces faded away and swirled into your mother's dark, sinister gaze. She reached out to you, her gloved hand pressing against your sweating forehead and tearstruck eyes, but you didn't feel any comfort. You felt like another death report, her favorite and one she has been waiting for forever.

If this is how you died, then so be it. One thing about Curcabena was that she'll always find a place for you to sit next to her no matter what. This time, you supposed, it would be in hell for the hurt you've caused.

How fitting.

"... Is she going to ever wake up?" "Not for a while. The doctors said the coma is necessary for her recovery. The reanimation took too long and... it's on her now to awaken." Lynette took a deep breath, her voice coming out in hushed whispers in fear of being overheard by their stressed Father. When Arlecchino came back come after an emergency letter practically crashed into the meeting room through a panicked Fatui agent, she found herself in the middle of a near warzone. You kept the house together at all times. But with you being in a medically induced coma now, everything fell right onto Lyney's shoulders. The one thing you never wanted.

The Knave had yet to say a thing, her lips pressed into a thin line at all times, as she silently moved to reorganize everyone and ease the pressure off of the young man's shoulders. Not even three days of taking on everything, and he was done emotionally and physically. How did his mother do it every day? How was she able to function? How was she able to keep everything in mind, do every task with perfect precision? He had so much to still learn, and that's what your absence proved him so painfully.

But hope still remained. If you woke up soon, then things would get better. Then, no one needed to be so terrified anymore.

Freminet nervously leaned against the doorway to your room, red eyes casted downwards to his shoes in silent shame. Guilt was eating everyone in the house up, their hearts aching with the question, "Could we have done more?". Yet their father wasn't keen on answering anything, her reassurance coming in the form of stern orders and a call for strength from them all.

"I see... in that case, I'll stay and watch over her for the night. You should go rest, Lynette." The young man spoke, watching as his sister exhaled a deep breath and nodded reluctantly. No one was getting any sleep lately, but it's the thought that counted. Passing by him with a short hug they both needed, Freminet watched her disappear into the darkness of the corridor, the moonlight filtering in through the windows leading her way. Stepping into the room with a soft sigh, he closed the door behind him and approached your sleeping form. His father hadn't stepped into this room much due to how busy she was with the chaos that broke out with your absence... but when she was in here, he saw the way she'd just stare at you, the pain in those stern eyes melting the ice and leaving behind a worried, foreign gaze that was rare to see on her.

Pulling a chair to the edge of the bed, he leaned his head against your slowly rising and falling chest, his eyes fluttering close in hopes of catching the tears that threatened to fall again. He wanted you to wake up so badly. It hurt to see you in this broken, weakened state. You were so pale and looked hollow, like all the life had been taken out of you. It was a terrifying sight that he could only barely comprehend. You have never looked like this before. You were always so strong and domineering.

He just couldn't believe it.

Fingers running through his blonde hair calmly is what made him flinch back to reality, his body reeling backward in surprise, yet the hand kept him there firmly. "Calm down, child... don't be afraid. It's just me." It was your voice, yet it sounded raspy and defeated, a slight slur to it from the lack of using it. Freminet froze and stared into the white covers of your bed, his tears dampening the soft fabric. But you didn't seem to notice his plight at first. He wanted to stay still, in case this was a dream. He was afraid that a single sudden move would make you fall back into your coma, the irrational thought plaguing him painfully.

"Mother..." "... Is this... heaven, after all?" You whispered, mind returning to the woman that haunted you. Surely, this must be the bliss before the storm. You imagined that soon flames and the hands of the children you've sent to their death would reach out and drag you down with them. And yet, all you got was the blonde boy pulling himself back again and grabbing onto your hand. "N-No! You're... you're alive." He stuttered out in panic and confusion, wishing someone else would help him, someone else could be here with you and take care of you much better than he could.

But once you processed those words of his, your heart skipped a beat in panic. The emotions finally caught up to you, and the surge of emotions made you attempt to sit up. Letting out a small yelp, Freminet attempted to hold you down and comfort you, knowing how you were about the house and your duties. The doctors had warned about this happening, too. Yet nothing could have prepared him for the sheer strength you demonstrated despite everything that happened. Something which could prove deadly soon, if you didn't relax immideatly.

And as though the heavens had heard his prayers, the door to the room creaked open, and in came his Father, an unreadable expression on her face at the sight of your struggling form. You were alive and somehow filled with energy, which unnerved her a little deep down. This certainly was going against your bedrest orders. "Peruere, I... I'm sorry for disappointing you- I'll get back to my duties as soon as I-" Her hand rose, and your deafening silence came with it. Taking slow steps towards you, her hand came down to rest on top of her trembling son's head. A silent absolvation from his duties for tonight.

"It's okay. You have not disappointed me in the slightest. Now rest." Her voice was stern and cold like it always was, but beneath the icy surface, you could feel the warmth and worry spread through her like a wild fire. She didn't want you to feel this way, and you could tell that the state you were in hurt her deep down. You and your family were her only weaknesses. Wanting to ease her pain, you leaned back into the soft pillows, eyes not daring to look up at her anymore. Why did you feel so ashamed? Perhaps because you should have taken care of yourself better. If you had, then maybe you wouldn't feel like a burden now. As though she was reading your mind, Arlecchino gave her son a curt nod, which he immideatly took as his sign to reluctantly leave.

Silence now overtook you both until she sighed and took a seat in the chair Freminet was in earlier. The moonlight filtering in through the open window illuminated the side of her tense face, her unique eyes near glowing. It was a peaceful moment, despite the pain that now raked through your entire body and especially chest. You closed your eyes weakly in relief when you felt her clawed hand carefully caress your sweat drenched face, your throat feeling so awfully dry as you gulped.

"I... I need to get up... I need to go back to work." "Not for a while." "... For how long then." A week maybe, you hoped. It was more than enough. It was all you allowed yourself, and even that was pushing it. Your restless mind was spinning in circles at all the tasks it still had to complete, and you felt yourself at a loss for words when she shook her head with the faintest frown. She knew you too well. You were an open book she had read many times over and couldn't get enough of. "Six weeks. Perhaps even longer after, depending on your state-..." She stopped herself when she saw your body trembling, and in the dimmest moonlight, she saw tears glinting in your eyes.

"Please don't cry. This is for your own good. I was... afraid when I heard of what happened. In fact, I'm grateful that you are alive, my songbird." Oh, how delicate her words were. Her honesty was forever going to be proof of her undying love for you. The ache is your heart lessened at the gentle warmth that spread through you from her touch, her tone lulling you into the safety you've craved ever since you fluttered your eyes open again. If only the guilt left with it. "What of our children? I must've scared them terribly. Especially my poor Fremi'..." You whispered after a moment of contemplation. Arlecchino watched your sick, tired form with kind eyes that were only reserved for you.

She figured that you'd feel this way. You were always so desperate to prove yourself to absolutely everyone. Whether it was to her, your children, or even the entire organization, you wanted to show everyone that you were better than Crucabena. Yet no matter how many years past, and no matter how much you achieved, you were never able to realise the truth. You had always been better than her from day one. The moment you rebelled and refused to take her side on the day, Arlecchino defeated her was proof of it.

"Do not fret over them. The children are strong. It is you that we need to worry about now. Just take it easy and sleep." Her words were comforting, even if short and to the point. You trusted them with your life. And yet, the feeling of being a burden just creeped up your body until you fell into a restless slumber once more.

The next few weeks were filled with nothing short of attention and borderline spoiling from all children in the house and beyond. Whether young or old, they all took care of you in the same way you cared for them. Something you could only barely handle. You felt like you should be doing that for them only, never the other way around. Yet under your wife's iron gaze, you were left with no choice but to accept your fate and stay put in bed or, on the rare occasion, in the living room near the fireplace. Lyney and his siblings especially took charge of your care, and you couldn't help but feel guilty at what you've put them through. You had attempted to apologize to the young man plenty of times for simply collapsing the way you did in front of him, but he'd always wave you off with a gentle smile. One they all attempted for you to mirror again.

The magician and Lynette would perform small shows just for you, knowing how much you enjoyed their tricks. Freminet, who was practically glued to your side, would read books with you about sea animals, whilst the other children brought you tasty pastries and food. The house was kept spotless by everyone, and you didn't have to lift a singular finger. And your wife was more affectionate with you in her own special way. Gentle kisses and careful, early morning cuddles were the norm, despite her reluctance for physical touch beforehand. You could tell through her actions that the state you were in had hit you deeper than she was most likely aware, and it didn't help the small guilt that was still left in your heart. All she had left from her old life was you. The woman she considered her wife and the mother of the house.

And by the time you've mostly recovered fully, you realised that the past wasn't haunting you anymore. Crucabena's strict hold on you had faded away, even if you knew that she was simply waiting for your arrival in hell one day. But your small revenge would leave her seething, absolutely enraged for years to come first.

In fact, it felt so good to be alive now.

[chocsra]

"Eternal Damnation."

PM! dazai x fem! immortal reader

a/n: apolgies for my absence. i was planning to write but everytime i could something piled up 🙁. thank u to @cherylpoptarts for the sudden reqs which piqued my interest immensely. ill work on my pending requests another time. enjoy the angst.

summary: you, an ability user who is able to automatically heal has been alive for centuries, constantly avoiding death. in the midst of it all, you hire an assassination, not for anyone, but yourself.

content warnings: suicide, mercy killing, insanity, assisted suicide, angst, small oneshot/long drabble, pm! dazai, (i hate this sm)

Lukewarm.

A temperature that was not too cold or hot; tepid. Little enthusiasm or indifference.

Similar to the freezing snow cooling down your neck into your back during Japanese winters. Catching snowflakes in the heat of your palm did not melt the bitter cold engulfing your being. Lukewarm was your companion throughout the tedious years of this beautiful thing we call 'living'. Lukewarm is the only comfort you know of.

There was a cut that always bled, never fully healed, the scab that you reckon to always pick off. Lukewarm water would wash over your scabbed wounds, into your eyes, and swallow you whole. You'd watch your loved ones become engulfed in a scorching heat, the bubbling fire scraping and tearing over old, bitter skin.

You'd run your fingers over the freshly new skin and everlastingly massaged joints. You never became old. You never felt hurt. You never were hurt—for long of course. For healing was your salvation, your ability, your gift—your curse.

"Winter is over soon,"

you muttered softly, the melancholic rebirth of nature prospecting over the misty blankets of snow surrounding you. Spring. The season when flower seedlings, trapped beneath infertile soil, reawaken and sprout; revelling in rich petals and leaves, calmly drifting in the cool breeze. You've seen it one too many times; 134—to be exact.

"And that's your reason?"

Your eyelids never falter your solemn, sad look. Continue to stuff your hands deep in your pockets to escape the cooling air, huffing out as you also fidget with the origami you've been toying with. "I'm not sure what you mean," you reply, eyes gazing over to the melting body of water, a local river as you stand over its bridge. For it was a beautiful sight, nature did this annual thing called grow—rebirth, if you may. And as many others hated the cold breeze that nature gifted, somehow, you basked in it. —"You want me to kill you because winter's over soon."

...

Right, you forgot the predicament you were in. Merciful. Yearning. Bright. Though the man beside you excluded the exact opposite of those adjectives, you cannot help but feel this funny thing called desperation—besides, you've heard it all, no 'youngest mafia executive' is truly evil. To you, he is only just a boy, a foolish boy. "I have lots of riches. You can even take my house, it's not dirty money."

"I see,"

A harsh breeze of wind swiftly picked up the origami that you were crafting from your hands, reaching out to grab the piece—a cold hand catches it and holds the folded paper in front of you, extending his hand. "you forget that you can't approach mafiosos on the street pleading for suicide, y'know? That sort of desperation is seen as dirty."

On the surface level, his words seemed like an insult; it was utterly offensive to refer to a person's actions as filthy. However, there wasn't any hint of insult in his voice—he even seemed amused. He, was a young man wrapped around in a beige scarf and black trenchcoat engulfing his entire body; he, was practically swimming in it. He, had brown wavy locks that framed his face. He, for some odd reason, was covered in bandages. —not the gauze you'd find wrapping around wounds, one similar to a mummy. And he, who looked like he lacked self-care, though you would be able to take in his pleasant features.

"Am I pleading?—" You snatch the origami away from his hand, "It's more like a deal. Consider it a paid assassination." the brunette merely scoffs, light air huffing out of his lips as he stuffs his hand back into his pocket. "Our conduct doesn't consist of mercy killing or assisted suicide," the man chuckles, peering along the barely frozen body of water. "nor unarranged business deals. But I'd like to know one thing,"

You lift your gaze meeting his in curiosity, taking in the soft features of his face, yet he brimmed with impurity. The slopes of his cheeks were so slim, and that followed through his lanky frame - a face that didn't seem boyish at all. Merciful. Yearning. Bright. He screamed an antonym of those words —Cruel. Repulsed. Dark.

"Why is it you want to die?" he asks, watching intricately as you brush your thumb continually over the origami you were making: a crafted swan. The brunette seemed rather impressed, watching - your skills seem exactly like traditional art of origamis: something he'd see in an old painting or lost crafts book. Swans - which symbolised eternal love, you seemed anything but loving. Maybe, it had just been eternal. An eternity without love.

"My journey started with helping others live. But once you start taking the breath of living for granted, it becomes the very reason you wish to die. I. suppose I've met my limit with that. With living." you reminisce the past, the melancholic nights under blankets under the same winter—the spring, autumn, or summer. In the blessing of longevity, there was a problem; for what you've gained, there was also lost. Death of others—an eternity without love was your reality. Your resentful condemnation.

"I understand."

At this moment, the mafioso didn't seem so cruel; it was almost sympathetic, you'd think as he gazes over the river. "I've never understood the purpose of living if that makes you feel any better."

...

"You're not very good at comforting, are you?" an unexpected chuckle escaped his lips, "I'd at least expect an immortal to be a nihilist." you remotely scoff at his revelation. "Stupid. There's a reason why I want to die, I understand the meaning of living." the brunette rolls his eyes and clicks his tongue. "Well, I don't understand the meaning of living hence why I want to die."

You chuckle, "For a mafioso, you are sassy."

"For a beauty, you are quite rude." He smiles indifferently.

It's almost funny, actually. How casual that conversation was.

Engulfed in the flames of this beautiful thing we call living, you finally obtain that sweet release of death the moment you intertwine fingers with a young mafioso—one who reeked of death.

The flames that engulfed you were lukewarm, but he was different. He was warm, almost scorching. Scorching an angelic heat that cascaded into the palms of your hand all the way to your shoulders and neck. The feeling was deftly abstract, and you basked in it; the way he'd hold you so close, run bandaged hands over the slope of your cheeks, whisper untangible nothings near the shell of your ear.

"Death is the absence of life, the desire I've been longing to taste since adolescence."

Mist and smoke fill around the room, almost making you feel dizzy. There were a lot of turbulent emotions circulating through your brain. First, you were relieved. You've been insensitive to death for a while, the times you did cry for someone—it was out of relief. The sweet relief that that one person would not have to suffer. You suppose it was the same for yourself. You would meet your demise in the arms of a fallen angel. Fall into the fiery pits of hell, or be welcomed by heaven's gate through a smoky embrace of whiskey and canned crab.

"I'm a bit envious of you, actually," Dazai murmurs, his thumb which was once connected to a trigger, soothingly rubbing your skin. "you'll meet this desire before me." you often wonder, what was the man's infatuation with death? He was in the mafia from a young age, he must've been associated with all forms of death. Ranging from a loved one withering away, to open guts and blood-stained lips. The absence of life can be seen through the empty carcass of one's body, the glint of vitality in their eyes disappearing.

Dazai Osamu was unique. In fact, he never had that glint in his eyes. His carcass was handsome, he was the product of love and passion. However, the eyes—his eyes, which were the window of the soul, were a dark void, abyssal, vantablack. He was unreadable. The brunette's experiences, his beliefs, his spiritual grounding. Dazai Osamu yearned for death, but for what he learned as just a boy, he did not meet death—but became it.

You had a connection. The special origami of a swan—meaning eternal love. He wanted eternal, you wanted love. In the end, none of you were happy. And so, he'll give you peace, and you'll give him understanding. The carcass you're going to become is much different from a being he merely murdered. Dazai moves a hand from interlocking with yours, to cup both of your cheeks. Warm and rosy cheeks.

"I'm sorry,"

He had fluttered his eyes shut and leaned his forehead on your temple. Despite the burning fire ignited by the candle of his flesh alone, his warm and shallow breaths gave you a balmy breather from this feeling called lukewarm.

Crack.

Lukewarm. 

"I see you got what you wanted, huh?"

You stood atop a bridge from frozen water with a black scarf snuggled tightly around your neck.

A brunette man averted his gaze to you with a confused stare. The gape of which was rather familiar, one that excluded a slight glint of vitality, but other than that, abyssal. "I'm sorry, do I know you?"

He adjusted the bandage on his finger, in which you assumed he cut his finger on something. "Nope. But I made an extra origami, do you want one?"

Silence. "..Sure."

The mysterious man picked up the crafted paper with suspicion. His gaze softens as he sees a professionally crafted swan. "I feel like we've met before—actually, I'm sure of it."

"Not too sure about that."

chocsra™

[the-bi-space-ace]

Writing Echo & the effects of Skako Minor

Discussions of trauma, CPTSD, and PTSD.

This will be a lot of personal opinion so take it with a grain of salt but I wanted to touch on writing Echo as someone who has CPTSD. Personally, I think after what he experienced on Skako Minor Echo would have CPTSD. The very basic thing you need to know is that PTSD and CPTSD are two different things. Symptoms overlap, they often get lumped together, but there are differences. From what I have learned from therapy and doctors PTSD happens from a single traumatizing event. Something happened, an accident, violence, etc. and it has stuck with you. CPTSD occurs when someone has multiple traumatizing events throughout their life that all compound. So if you grew up in an abusive household, experienced outside violence, and had several life altering events, that would be the perfect breeding ground for CPTSD. It is not one event. CPTSD comes from the fact that it is multiple things on top of each other, all working together to make your PTSD complex in nature since it comes from a web of things instead of one event.

After Skako I think Echo would suffer from CPTSD mainly because he has experienced several traumatizing events over and over again. The explosion, being tortured, being experimented on over and over again, and finding out he has been used as a weapon, along with his injuries sustained in the battle of Anaxes all compile together. This is what I base this off of.

With that in mind I wanted to talk a little bit about some symptoms and how this could translate to Echo as a character.

One can experience shaking (imagine Crosshair early season 3), paranoia, anxiety, and difficulty sleeping. I have seen Echo portrayed often with nightmares, which I think is a great route to go, however I want to offer up other ways you can show his difficulty living with CPTSD. Physical symptoms are one thing and definitely make life more difficult but what about the mental ones?

One challenge can be constantly feeling like the other shoe is going to drop. There can be waves of feeling okay and stable and then other periods of constant vigilance and anxiety. When things are good you could think ‘how much longer until it is all gone? How long do I deserve safety and happiness?’ These fears are often completely unrealistic but your brain cannot determine that in the moment.

I think Echo could struggle with this. I want to imagine that this is part (not all) of the reason he wants to badly to do more and part of why he does not really want to retire. He doesn’t understand safety anymore. He’s still more comfortable in chaos and vigilance. Safety would likely feel unsafe to him. At least, for a while. Truthfully, survivors guilt and his own loyalty and personality are all wrapped up in there too but imagine if there was another layer.

What if he is clinging so desperately to helping because tomorrow he could be swept away again. Or he won’t be able to save anyone. Or somehow Tambor will catch up with him. Or maybe, just maybe, he becomes the algorithm again. He snaps right back into it mid mission. He’s taken over and can’t be saved. He attacks his loved ones. He can’t help it. He could hurt them. What if he hurts them! Safety may frighten him so deeply he can’t even begin to think about it. His brain won’t let him. It won’t let him cling to that thought because it can’t be real it will be danger. It has to be.

It doesn’t have to be rational because CPTSD is not rational. Your brain and body are trying to protect you. It has learned that you are in danger and it is not comfortable with safety anymore. It will protect you even if you are perfectly safe. Even if that means telling you lies.

And none of this makes him weak. He’s confident in his skills, he’s a force to be reckoned with. He’s lethal and loyal and kind hearted and not at all weak. His strength and compassion are things to look up to. I love Echo. He’s dedicated to saving his loved ones, he’s been through so much, and he has never ever given up despite the challenges. I think he is wonderful and such a rich character for storytelling. It certainly isn’t necessary to include this when writing Echo but if you’re looking for other ways for his trauma to manifest this may be an interesting route to explore.

have the best gif of Echo ever as a treat for reading this far

[mascula-sappho]

handy guide for the Silm fandom when writing about characters handling or riding horses from a Silm fan and horse owner + dressage rider of 4 years:

1. Horses in Himring MUST have worn studs (and maybe rubber) in their horseshoes. These are detachable spikes on the bottom of the horseshoe to help the horse grip on surfaces such as ice and even grass. Horses can get injured very easily and so it is unrealistic to expect a horse from Himring to simply leave marks with plain horseshoes in the ice and also to expect it so be able to balance. On top of that we usually don't let horses outside if it is too cold or if it is too icy as a horse with a broken leg usually has to be euthanized since horses literally live their whole lives standing up. Horses cannot be galloped in weather under 20 degree Fahrenheit because they will struggle to breathe. Save the orc raids for when the patrols can actually ride out. Oh, and the horses need warm wearable blankets if they aren't tiny fluffy northern breeds (which an elf couldn't fit on) and if they are breeds at all suitable for riding they are not fluffy and need blankets.

2. Horses are naturally fearful and dramatic animals. Elves, being able to communicate easily with horses, would often have to assuage their horses' fears of literally any unfamiliar object or thing. Some things my (very calm and rational for a horse) horse has been afraid of: doors, deer, kites, balloons, ceiling fans, and bizarrely, chrysanthemums. Battle trained horses have had to undergo lots of training to teach them to be comfortable around battle. Horses also have inter horse drama very often and two horses might randomly hate each other for no reason or they might have a toxic codependent relationship. All forms of relationship drama except for romantic jealousy occur in horse social groups. Basically every single horse social group is a high school, ok?

3. Riding a horse without a saddle for extended periods of time will hurt their back. Even if you don't ride with a bridle (which is just easier for faster and more immediate and precise communication so elves probably used them - when I ride without a bridle we both get confused easily), riding without a saddle is more uncomfortable for both horse and rider and more taxing on the rider. Legolas is an idiot showoff.

4. Horses become very attached to their friends, whether humanoids or horses. There are many stories of horses risking their lives for their riders, and my horse personally is very concerned for my safety and well-being, nosing me gently and constantly checking on me. They are as social as dogs but usually not as easy to earn the trust of. It took my horse like 8 months to fully come out of her shell and we are still working on her trauma from being mistreated before I bought her. Horses have much better memories than dogs. If you teach a horse something they will never forget it, which is why undoing horse trauma or incorrect training is a very long and difficult process. Horses show affection by wiggling their lips either while looking at or touching the subject of their affection, for example my horse will twitch her lips at the sound of my voice, but also will gently nibble and drag her upper lip over the nearest part of my body. They also show affection by pressing their nose against you, and exhaling slowly though their nostrils (the exhales roughly translate to "hello/I love you"). Horses' upper and lower lips are prehensile and able to grab and manipulate objects. Their noses are very sensitive.

Here are my (very cute) credentials:

[vinjinssunglasses]

Haii i saw the commotion over the white haired shark guy :D can you write some hcs about him? I have a feeling he is very stotic and loyal on the outside but type to gush out in secret or on the inside when liking someone...plans dates in their heads and everything but won't say anything of it when meeting..do you get the ✨️V I S I O N✨️?

But ofc id LOVEEEE to see your interpretation!

Thank uuu!🤍

⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆

♯┆character shark guy x reader ♯┆summary: his feelings for you are too much, and it’s painfully biting at him piece by piece. ♯┆w/c 1.5k ♯┆genre hurt/no comfort, angst, unrequited love, fluff (?) ♯┆a/n tysm for requesting!! got to work as soon as i saw it!! also the first person to write ab him!! ^o^ made at 3am..

⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆

You enter his aquarium, shutting the door behind you gently. Each step you take keeps you on your toes for a reason you cannot describe, as you let your eyes rest on the sharks and tiny fishes swim in the confinements of this private aquarium. They look so emotionless, deprived of the freedom they once had.

He was staring at his reflection in the transparent glass, his tongue flicking over his metal, sharp teeth as he weighed his own beauty. No doubt he felt incomplete, as if something missing from himself. Running his fingers through his straight, angelic strands, he didn’t take his eyes off of himself for a second. In a fit of rage, he banged his fist against the mirror, dissatisfied from what it was portraying. No, he didn’t want to be what he was at all. No, he wasn’t satisfied being in this body nor was he happy being the one in front of his transparent glass. He opened his mouth wide, inspecting his shark-like teeth once more. Remembering what happened to him made him wince, the pain aching through his body like it did at that day.

A familiar call of his name brings him back to reality as he turns his painstaking gaze to your own more mundane one which showed a hint of concern for him. The white haired man immediately closed his mouth, covering it with his hand. Although it were the worst timing, he didn’t attempt to hide a soft smirk at your presence underneath his hands protection.

“James Lee.” Those two words echoed throughout the wide area, and even the fishes paused their natural instinct to swim and interact, the air becoming still. Perhaps he was slightly betrayed that you didn’t dare ask about his own mental distress, or just glad that you were here in the first place. He missed your voice, even though it was dull and held such authority, and your face he wished he could just pathetically make out with. James Lee is an individual he has been waiting for, put in simple terms. And he’d hate to see that cursed name passing your sweet lips.

“It’s all under control.” He spoke solemnly, matching your professional demeanour despite his racing thoughts. You looked so pretty in those straight leg trousers, and that shirt which sat so flattering upon your body. He wished you’d look at him, even once, in a way that didn’t meant business in this gang. Is that so selfish to ask for?

Your gaze switched to the dark tiles, yet you sighed before saying anything else.

“Perfect. Things are going as planned, I presume?”

“One more time?” He asks, but knew damn well he heard you well enough the first time. Just one little snippet of your voice that’ll keep him awake all night, one more.

“Things are going as planned?” You repeated and he nodded like a wet puppy. Finished with this conversation, you turned around, getting ready to leave. Everyday the damn same, if only he’d try something different—!

As you walked off, he desperately reached out his hand towards your body, the sharks rushing through the water at impressive speeds, yet their pace slows down frantically as he misses, and your able to walk away before his hand even comes close to you. Falling to his knees, he felt so pathetic. It’s always the same with him and these stupid emotions he can never seem to regulats. No, he didn’t want to be what he was at all. No, he wasn’t satisfied being in this body. If he were somebody else, would he have been the once to break this depressing cycle? I want you to tell me. Can he break this somber sequence of events if he could let go of these chains of obsessive love?

Times up — the answer is no. In this world, in this universe he’ll stay the being he hated most. One that never changed what they disliked, one that had no courage to do anything they pleased. Is this why he was stuck at second in command? His hands travel up to his locks, squeezing them tightly and messing their order up, each hair flinging to the sides as he tilted his head to to the dull ceiling, a harsh reminder of himself.

My world, won’t you be here for me? Am I really what I think I am? Am I really what I think I am? Am I really what I think I am?

Anything to cope. Would you let me take you out on dates where I can hold you, place kisses on your cheeks and make you laugh like they do on television? He shakily lifted himself up, watching the door that you just left from. Each step felt like a new type of torment, and he rested his head upon the door, his hands gripping and loosening on the doorknob. Before he knew it, tears were running down his face, eyes reddening as his breathes began to become hasty.

Again, he weeps, for hours at a time.

The next day, he’s sat opposite you in a semi-important meeting. As third in command, you strive to be like your leader and do not wish for distractions. But you can’t help but feel, not disturbed, yet intrigued at the white haired man a rank above you who cannot take his eyes off of you. Ever so often, his gaze lingers upon your fingers, travelling to your hands which scribble notes upon the paper. As soon as you lift your eyes, he quickly begins to pay attention, click his pen and start writing. What they all have in common is that it shows he’s ashamed to be staring at you. Was there something on your face?

You pulled up your glasses, tapping your foot as they ramble on. Is this a problem, or something that’ll walk out of your life soon? It’s crazy to think anybody could have a crush on you, as you’ve been known to have a bad temperament and a bossy attitude that keeps people within a five meter radius of you. Then why does he come in between the lines yet keep it of them at the same time? — staring from a distance, lips parting when he notices you and the sort.

After the meeting, he walks towards his office, and that esteemed aquarium he holds to value so much. Humming along the way, he keeps his chin up and his stride confident — and that is until he finds you’re tagging along. His demeanour suddenly changes from his dual authoritative one to his cute, scaredy cat look. A hint of pink lingers upon his pale cheeks, as his lips seal shut.

“I was wondering..” You started, studying his flustered reaction. “If I can skim over your notes. Just in case I missed something, second in command.”

His lips part and tremble as he begins to talk, stiffening his shoulders to appear more collected and relaxed (yet it backfires).

“Of course.” He hands his notebook over, and you open at the bookmark. His eyes lock on how you spread the pages, lift the bookmark and swipe over pages. Suddenly the new lights that have been installed, the floor and his shoes seem so interesting, as he tries to invest his attention elsewhere from your hands and face. Subtly, you’d lift your eyes from reading his neat handwriting to his panicky expression, softly smirking.

“Thanks, I’ll be sure to write it down.” You softly spoke, a contrast to what people really think of you. Before he’s even able to get a word out, you walk away, and he can only watch the hypnotic sway of your hips. He wanted nobody to see this embarrassing interaction, therefore he instantly opened and shut the door behind him, covering his face with shame.

This was the first time he couldn’t hold himself from wearing his heart on his sleeves, and he wished that you didn’t notice his humiliating display. One thing he didn’t want to admit is that’s he always try and look his best in front of you, caring about what you thought most., even though you’d never notice him anyway Looking down at the notebook before him, he could only reminisce on your gentle touch on the pages, only resulting in his heart fluttering more. Only if you could gently swerve your fingers in between his, interlocking them with such tenderness. Only if you place a delicate kiss upon his lips, so he can reciprocate with all the feelings that have been building up for years.

Lilies represent the purity and innocence of new beginnings. Like everything in this world, they possess a deeper nature that represent their delicacy and fleeting beauty evoke unspoken sorrow and heartbreak beyond repair. A unsettling, unavoidable reminder that love is double sided — both sacred, precious and eternal and hateful, selfish and bittersweet. They embody the fragile balance of sweet and bitter emotions, and they choose upon their own will what you will recieve.

Love is like a dice. Unpredictable. Life-changing.

How come he keeps getting a one? Only able to move one space on a board game, while you keep receiving sixes, able to move on as you please. It is only him whom is stuck in the constant state of pathetic mess and corruptive emotion.

[disastergay]

why do people write smut of asexual characters?

"isn't the whole point of being ace that they don't want to fuck?"

They're fictional characters

It's not and never will be canon

Some people are actually shitty and don't believe in asexuality, which is fucked up of them and they should be told off for it

They're fictional characters

Not every ace is sex-repulsed/averse and some are in fact sex-favorable, please don't erase those of us that do have sex

Still others have high libidos despite a lack of sexual attraction

Some aces do experience sexual attraction and feel comfortable acting on it

They are, and I cannot stress this enough, fictional characters, and besides, no fanfiction will ever influence the future of the work's canon because there are literal laws and regulations in place to stop that from happening

say it with me: attraction =/= action. attraction does not equal action.

it's 100% okay to feel frustrated when you see people drawing lewd art and writing smutty fanfiction about your favorite asexual characters. a lot of the people doing that aren't even ace themselves, and plenty of them deserve a side eye. I'm right there with you on that. but PLEASE stop perpetuating the myth that the only reason someone would ever write/draw smut of ace characters is because they're allosexual and acephobic.

I'm not trying to hurt those of you who are sex repulsed by writing about sex between two fictional characters (which I'm told I do so in the most asexual way possible, I might add).

the ace corners of fandoms have always been hostile towards aces who experience sexual attraction and/or are interested in having sex. this is unfair.

fandom at large has always been guilty of erasing ace representation (see the jughead debacle), ESPECIALLY sex repulsed aces who never feel any sexual attraction whatsoever. often times fans will hide behind sex favorable aces and grey asexuals' existence to justify their erasure of canon sex repulsed ace characters. this is also unfair.

both of these things can be true and equally important. stop with the infighting so we can start setting a better example for how to treat both canon and fanon aspec rep in the future.

this has been a PSA.

[dibidibidismynameisleeknow]

Friendsgiving

MDNI I will block blank blogs and those without age indicators.

Pairing: Mingyu x (AFAB) Reader. Non-idol au

Synopsis: Just a little love story, reader and Mingyu are down bad for each other.

Characters: Mingyu, Wonwoo, Seungkwan, Jihoon, O/C Ava as Jihoon's girlfriend

Warnings: none, it's fluff, maybe a few innuendos and swears, nothing serious, Seungkwan is a menace. Despite there being no smut I still don't want minors interacting, it makes me comfortable, I'm an adult.

A/N: I was feeling inspired by S1 E9 of Friends. Fun fact, I don't decide who to write for, I let the fic tell me. The word count is almost 3,800. This is fiction.

~~~~~

🐶: Hey, any plans for Thanksgiving?

🌸: Hey Mingyu, no, I’m going to stay home this year

🐶: You’re going to be alone?

🌸: Yea, that’s okay, I’m sick of always traveling for the holidays

You figured that was the end of your conversation with Mingyu. You honestly didn’t mind not having plans for the holidays. The thought of extra time off work and not being around a bickering family for Thanksgiving was too enticing to pass up. Matter of fact, you were rather looking forward to it; maybe explore the city some more, see if any cute cafes or restaurants were open. The possibilities were endless. Your daydream of a peaceful Thanksgiving was interrupted by the ringing of your cell phone. Mingyu.

“You can’t be alone for Thanksgiving!” Mingyu refused to accept your reasoning. “As much as I would like to respect your boundaries. I am afraid that I cannot. I’m pretty sure that not being around people you care about during the holiday season is unconstitutional. I’d hate for you to have to pay a fine. Is that what you want? Do you really want to have to fight to pay the ticket like you did your parking ticket?”

You let out a snort, amused by Mingyu. “You put too much thought into that.” He really was too cute for his own good. At this point in your friendship, you’d do anything to protect him, to make sure no one hurt him. (Even though it was looking like you might be the one to break his heart).

“Mingyu, I’m tired. I just want to relax this year. Are you trying to get rid of me or something?”

“No. Stay here. Stay with me.” The line was filled with a moment of silence. You had never expected Mingyu to invite you over for a holiday. Was he cute? Yes. Do you enjoy every second you’re around him? Also yes. “This is our first Thanksgiving together. Please.”

“Why is this so important to you?” There was a slight possibility that you’d give into his plea. 

“You’re important to me. I’m thankful for our friendship. I want you here.”

Mingyu was honestly the sweetest person to grace this planet. The more you got to know him the more you could feel yourself falling for him more and more. At this point it was getting bad. The thought of Mingyu caring so much was enough to bring tears to your eyes, but you didn’t want to worry him, so you tried your best to hold them in. 

“I do a Friendsgiving every year. I’d really like you to be a part of it. There’s no travelling involved except maybe to my place, but that doesn’t count because you and I live pretty close to each other.”

“That does sound kind of nice actually. Thank you, Mingyu.”

“You’re welcome. I can’t wait to see you.”

“Text me the details.”

🐶: Saturday, come over whenever, it’s an all day thing

🌸: Do you need me to bring anything? Who am I going to meet?

🐶: Bring yourself and a positive attitude about spending the day with me! As for the guest list, I guess you’ll have to come and find out

🌸: Mingyu -.-

🐶: Fiiiiiiinneeeeee… Jihoon and his girlfriend are bringing dessert, Seungkwan is bringing drinks, and Wonwoo in typical Wonwoo fashion is bringing games. I’ve got the meat ;)

🌸: LOL I can’t wait to taste your meat Mingyu

🐶: I’m sure you’ll love it, you might even want seconds ;D

~~~~~

Mingyu ended up texting you Friday morning asking if you minded arriving extra early Saturday morning to help him prepare everything. Every year he underestimates how much work actually goes into hosting a holiday party and his social circle only seems to be growing. As important as Mingyu is to you, and as important as Friendsgiving is to him, you couldn’t imagine turning him down. You wanted this holiday to be perfect for him. If anyone deserved it, it was Mingyu.

🐶: Actually, do you mind spending the night instead?

🌸: Mingyu! That’s quite a jump in this friendship. Very risque, not demure

🐶: I’m worried about you going out in the holiday rush and I wouldn’t mind your help decorating, if you don’t mind.

🌸: Anything for you

“Oh, Kim Mingyu. How I don’t deserve you.”

~~~~~

Thankfully Friday night rolled around quickly and you were oh so grateful that Mingyu wanted you to spend the night… for convenience sake. Traffic was already wild and you could only imagine that it would get worse. After quickly packing an overnight bag you ordered dinner to have delivered to Mingyu’s place, you knew you two would be in for a long night, and day tomorrow. A token of your gratitude as well.

The evening with Mingyu went well, much better than you anticipated. The evening was spent decorating, prepping whatever food you could and overall just enjoying each other’s company. 

“This feels oddly domestic,” you noted, while placing a few decorations.

“It’s nice though, isn’t it?”

You hummed in agreement with Mingyu. “Anytime spent with you is wonderful.”

Even with you both busy preparing for tomorrow’s dinner, Mingyu still made sure to pull you in for a hug.  “Thank you. I couldn’t have done it without you.”

You soaked in his warm embrace but you couldn’t help but long for more and to be held by Mingyu more often.

“We should hurry up and get this done. We’ve got a long day ahead of us tomorrow.” As much as you didn’t want that moment to ever end, your heart needed it to. 

~~~~~

“Hey, now that we’re done, did you want to hang out and watch a movie or something, or would you rather head to bed?”

“I kind of want to get to bed. Do you mind if I shower?”

Mingyu scrunched up his nose and looked you up and down. “Please do.”

The gentleman he is (aside from his earlier comment) led you to his bathroom and carried your overnight bag for you. “If you get tempted to use my soaps, help yourself. I know I smell irresistible.” 

“Get out of here,” you laughed. He does smell good, maybe I’ll have to take him up on that offer. 

You were just about to finish up your shower when you heard a faint knock on the bathroom door. 

“Come in! Sorry, did I take too long?”

“You’re fine. I just wanted to bring you a warm towel. I threw it in the dryer for you.”

“You’re amazing. Thank you.” 

The person who falls in love with Mingyu will have no idea how lucky they are. Hopefully they’ll treat him half as amazing as he treats you, and you’re just friends. Just a friendly self reminder. 

Stepping out of the bathroom and about to trail to the living room to get some sleep, you felt Mingyu’s arms wrap around your torso and pull you into his much taller, stronger and bigger frame.

“And where do you think you’re going?” Mingyu questions, almost as if you had done something wrong.

“The living room to sleep. Duh.”

He lowered his head closer to you, as if you couldn’t hear him clearly from his normal standing position, making your knees weak in the process. Still holding you, he spun the two of you around. “My bedroom is that way.”

“That was hot.”

“Yeah? You think so?” You could almost hear the smirk on his face, which means…

“Shit. Did I say that out loud?”

“You sure did sweetheart. Make yourself comfortable. It’s my turn to shower, I’ll be there with you in a bit… if you want.”

“Yes, please. I mean sure, if that’s cool with you. It is your bed. I don’t mind, if you don’t mind.”

Mingyu’s room was really nice, and his bed was huge and looked ridiculously comfy.  You just couldn’t wait to get in it, you knew the second your head hit the pillow you would be out for the night. It would be rude to fall asleep without saying goodnight, right? You thought to yourself. Climbing into Mingyu’s bed you realized you were right, it was comfy like you anticipated, and it smelled oddly like lavender, just like your own bed. You did happen to mention in passing to Mingyu that you purchased a lavender bed spray that was supposed to help you relax and fall asleep. It was possible that he decided to give it a try when he found out how much you liked it. You also noticed that off to the side of his bed, atop the nightstand was a white noise machine, similar to the one you have at home. Either you had more in common with Mingyu than you thought or he just paid really good attention to you. If the second option was the case, you didn’t realize how much you meant to Mingyu, which only made your heart race even more. 

“I didn’t know you liked white noise while you slept,” you noted as Mingyu climbed between the sheets.

“I don’t,” he replied before rolling over to turn it on. “I bought it because you were spending the night. The least I could do to thank you for your help was to make sure you were as comfortable as possible.”

“And the lavender spray?”

“For you.”

“Seriously, Mingyu. How are you still single?”

Mingyu rolled back over to face you and his arms found their way around you again and pulled you closer to him. Figuring it was okay, you rested your head on his chest. Just laying there listening to his heart beat. 

“I’m just waiting for someone very special and specific.”

You hummed in acknowledgement before starting to doze off in Mingyu’s arms.

~~~~~

The next morning you noticed the bed was significantly cooler than it was last night. Mingyu’s presence was significantly therapeutic and you found yourself missing it. Oh, this is bad.

“Good morning, beautiful. How did you sleep?”

“I think that was the best I’ve ever slept. Thank you for doing all of that for me.”

“I’m glad to hear that. You deserve the best.”

“I think I just might have to spend the night more often.”

“My door is always open for you, princess.” What’s with the pet names? You decided just to shrug it off, even though it made your head spin and your heart flutter. Oh, Kim Mingyu, you’re going to be the death of me.

~~~~~

In the kitchen you were greeted with the sight of a very domestic Mingyu, again. You watched and admired while he paced around the kitchen trying to throw everything together. There was still quite a bit to do for the evening but Mingyu couldn’t look happier. He was just glad that a few of his favourite people would be there to celebrate the holiday with him. Plus, he also looked adorable in his apron, so you wouldn’t complain one bit. You’d be lying to yourself if you hadn’t thought of husband material Mingyu once or twice in the past. 

“Alright, how can I help?”

Thankful for your help, Mingyu pulled you in for yet another hug. Is this going to be a constant thing? My heart can’t take much more of this. At this point it was a miracle that Mingyu couldn’t feel your heart race with the proximity of your bodies, you were sure that your heart would beat out of your chest any moment now. What you failed to realize though was that Mingyu also didn’t want to let go, but the knocking on his apartment door demanded his attention. 

Slowly, one by one his friends started to trickle in, making sure to say hi and introduce themselves to you. They all seemed very friendly, and you really wanted to make a good impression.

“It’s so nice to have another girl in this friend group,” Jihoon’s girlfriend Ava gushed, coming in to hug you. She seemed very sweet, you could see yourself turning into good friends. “It’s so nice to finally meet you. We’ve heard so much about you!”

You glanced from Ava to Mingyu, back to her, before glancing back to ask Mingyu, “you talk about me?”

“Talk about you? He doesn’t shut up about you.” Ava answered for him.

“Okay, that’s enough.” Jihoon panicked, pulling Ava off of you. “Let’s go help Wonwoo and Seungkwan set things up.”

Thinking they were out of earshot Ava tried to whisper to Jihoon. “Wow, Mingyu wasn’t lying when he said she’s really pretty.” It didn’t turn out that way though, she might as well have yelled it. 

“You think I’m pretty?” you teased.

“You have a mirror, don’t you?” For the first time since you met Mingyu, you finally caught the blush creeping up on his cheeks and his red ears. You couldn’t help but chuckle at how cute Mingyu looked when he was acting shy. 

“Let’s go play some games. I’ve got asses to kick.”

“Oh, you’re on.”

~~~~~

While Sackboy was a game that called for teamwork, Seungkwan and Mingyu seemed to have formed an alliance to try and sabotage you. Ava caught on pretty quickly and managed to talk Jihoon on backing you up against them. It involved a lot of throwing each other’s character off the edge and losing lives and slapping each other…in the game. Multiple levels had to be restarted. Thankfully Wonwoo got the boys to start playing properly so the night could go on, and you often got to the finish line first. Never against Wonwoo though, you knew he’d probably get to the finish line first, but your ego was well fed after coming first against Seungkwan. 

Seungkwan huffed out in annoyance, “Mingyu, your girlfriend cheats!”

“She’s not my -”

“Maybe you just suck,” you fired back. 

You caught Wonwoo leaning in to tell Mingyu, “she’s cool. I like her.” At least one of his friends tried to be subtle. But you missed Mingyu saying back, “yea, I like her too.”

Things started to die down a little bit more as dinner rolled around, but with Seungkwan’s competitive streak you all knew the peacefulness would be short-lived. Almost as if he could read everyone’s mind, Monopoly was dropped onto the coffee table.

“Alright, I want a rematch.”

Trying to remain calm, Jihoon rubbed his temples, almost as if Seungkwan pained him. “Dude, you’re embarrassing yourself. Just take the loss.”

“Yeah,” Ava whined. “We like her, don’t scare her off.” 

Mingyu was getting ready to step in and have Seungkwan back off and leave you alone but he found your hand on his knee enough to stop him.

“If he wants to lose, let him. Just know Seungkwan, this game takes a while so be prepared to suffer.”

Mingyu couldn’t help but enjoy that you and his friends seemed to be getting along so well. He also really enjoyed watching you absolutely destroy Seungkwan every chance you got. 

“My money is on Seungkwan,” Wonwoo chimed in as you and Seungkwan started to set up the game. 

“Thank you. I’m glad that someone believes in me.”

“My money is on you losing,” Wonwoo clarified. Maybe everyone else also enjoyed how things were going between you and Seungkwan. Mingyu didn’t realize that he stuck two of the most competitive people in a room together. 

Jihoon was the first to pull out his wallet. “Alright, I’m in.”

Seungkwan let out a groan of defeat as he fell backwards onto the floor. Jihoon used this sulking episode as an opportunity to divide the winnings amongst everyone that bet on you instead of Seungkwan. Which was everyone. 

~~~~~

The night had turned out amazing, as you expected. You found yourself really enjoying yourself and your new found friends. It was much nicer than spending the holiday at your own apartment and it was a nice change from your regular holiday plans. Which you made sure to tell Mingyu, you really couldn’t be more grateful that you had been so important to be included in this little tradition.

“Ava, did you make this pie?” you asked. “This is absolutely amazing.”

She blushed at the praise. It really amused you how someone could go from being so bold one minute to so shy and quiet the next.

Mingyu figured it was probably time to get involved with the conversations. He had been rather quiet the past little while just taking in his favourite people, and watching to make sure you were having a good time. “We’re convinced that’s the reason Jihoon is dating her.”

Jihoon just shrugged at his friend’s accusation. “Who doesn’t love free dessert?”

“You really like it?” Baked goods were Ava’s love language and it meant a lot to her when people could bond over good food. 

“I love it! Seriously, I want to climb inside and live in this pie. I think I want to marry the pie.”

This time Wonwoo was not so subtle with his next comment, “damn Mingyu, you’ve got some competition.”

At this point Mingyu gave up. There was no possible way that you didn’t know about his feelings for you. He wanted his friends' help on how to bring it up and what to say, but he didn’t expect it to turn out like this. 

“Yeah, I’m actually kind of jealous of the attention that pie is getting.”

Seungkwan jumped on the opportunity of embarrassing Mingyu. “It’s getting more attention than you.” 

“Seungkwan, be nice or I’ll kick your ass at another stupid game again,” you threatened. Mingyu couldn’t be more thankful that you were deflecting the situation away from him and not making him feel even more embarrassed and awkward than he already was.

The day started to fade bringing Friendsgiving to an end. It seemed like a good time to start cleaning up and gathering your belongings, you wanted to get home and rest a little bit before it got too late. 

“Are you leaving?” Mingyu asked, his voice laced with a hint of disappointment.

“Shortly, yeah. I just wanted to help get things cleaned up.”

“Oh, I don’t want you to leave,” he pouted. 

“What about me?”

“No, Seungkwan, I definitely want you to leave.”

“I feel like you’re picking favourites and it’s not me.”

Mingyu tried his hardest to get his friends to leave, but his friends seemed to sense his wish of wanting to be alone and spend more time with you that they took their time leaving. Except Jihoon, he was glad to finally be heading home and had to pull Ava off of you. 

“Mingyu give me her number, and don’t fuck this up.” On the bright side, at least his friends approved of you. But the big picture: did YOU approve of Mingyu? Could he be what you deserved? What you wanted?

Seungkwan said his goodbyes before gently (but purposely) knocking you into Mingyu, forcing him to catch you. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to push you under the mistletoe.”

“The what?” you glanced up and there it was, a very out of place decoration. “That’s the wrong holiday,” you noted, almost as if you were unsure. But you did know for a fact that neither you nor Mingyu put that decoration up. 

“I thought you two could use the push.”

Wonwoo could see Seungkwan’s life flash before his eyes, if Mingyu’s facial expression was anything to go off of.  “Dude, you better start running.” Seungkwan almost didn’t want to believe Wonwoo, but Jihoon did, and pulled their friend away, leaving Wonwoo behind with you and Mingyu. “I’m so sorry about him. I hope you stick around. It was lovely meeting you.”

You exchanged your goodbye with Wonwoo before turning back to Mingyu. Poor Mingyu, cheeks tinted red, so embarrassed and worried that his friends scared you and that he might lose you after his feelings were aired out so blatantly. This evening was supposed to be fun and relaxing, his feelings weren’t meant to be a part of it. He didn’t want to put you on the spot like that, it wasn’t his reason for inviting you over, he honestly just wanted you around. When he asked his friends on how he should go about telling you his feelings he didn’t mean that exact day, or even a day when they were around. Actually, they most definitely were not supposed to be there when he confessed his feelings. But here he is, forced to come out and say something. Mingyu’s trance was disrupted when he felt your hands work their way to the nape of his neck, forcing him to maintain eye contact with you.

“I lost you there for a second.”

“I’m so sorry about all of this, this is not what I expected. I don’t know what’s wrong with them. Are you mad? Let me grab your bag and I can walk you to your car.” Mingyu stopped in his tracks when he heard you quietly say,

“I would have kissed you without the mistletoe.”

“You what?!”

“Kiss her! Kiss her!” Seungkwan and Ava chanted from down the hall. Right. Mingyu was too wrapped up in his own existential crisis and didn’t make it back into his apartment. He muttered a quick “assholes” before pulling you back into the apartment, and making sure the door was locked and inaccessible from his nosey friends. 

“So, rumour has it, you have a crush on me?”

“Fuck it,” Mingyu sighed. “Yeah, I do. I have for a while actually. You were not supposed to find out this way.” You tried to reassure Mingyu that it was really okay, and figured he must have forgotten what you said previously about the mistletoe.

“Mingyu, I like you too, so much. You’re the most amazing person I know… as for the mistletoe.” you brought his attention back to the decoration. “We can’t break tradition, can we now?”

Mingyu watched as you stood up on your tiptoes closing the distance between the two of you. He wasn’t sure how to go about it, he hadn’t ever expected it to happen, but was relieved when you seemed to have everything under control. Despite trying to remain calm, cool and collected, nothing could have prepared him for what your lips on his would feel like. He couldn’t help the smile that came across his face and finally gained the confidence to return your affection back. When he realized you weren’t going anywhere he pulled you closer, silently hoping this moment wouldn’t end. Things only intensified when you ran your hands up his side and across his chest before stopping your hands on either side of his face and pulling away as Mingyu’s phone went off with a text notification.

“Happy Thanksgiving, Mingyu.”

Seungkwan > did you kiss her yet?

Ava > how was it?!

    > also, we heard you, there’s nothing wrong with us

Wonwoo > except EVERYTHING

Jihoon > freaks

> I was talking about Ava and Seungkwan by the way

Ava > rude, enjoy sleeping on the couch

    > add her to the group chat

Mingyu chuckled and showed you the conversation, a silent ask if you wanted to be a part of that mess. You handed Mingyu your phone, you couldn’t be happier to be welcomed into the group.

“Oh no, what did I get myself into?” you joked.

[twisted-wonderland-but-gayer]

soooo i looked back over at your "what if yuu entered chat with a buddy" and i am now also thinking thoughts.

for one, think the cast (read ace) would get a bit jealous. maybe not even in a romantic way, just in a sort of "okay but we're your friends too ess em eich" kind of way. i feel like ace, floyd, and idia would be kinda bad about this due to Overwheming Bastard Energy(tm) from the first two, and because idia ... cannot talk to jack fuckin anyone. he's alr dependent on ortho what's one more dependency./s 💀

but i also think of said buddy comforting them when they get overwhelmed from being the campus/school therapist. said buddy standing up for them to crowley, or telling grim to suck a magestone and get the hell out before he fucks up again. said buddy researching with yuu in the library to try and search their way back home, throwing ideas at eachother and connecting with eachother in ways that yuu could never have in the world of twst. when yuu finally snaps at everyone, looked down upon for finally being able to feel fucking something and show it, the entire school against them now for the very same thing they worked to comfort everyone else through out of sheer goddamn necessity, they'll only have one person to turn to. but maybe that isn't enough. maybe yuu hurts themselves or worse in their intense, overwhelming lonliness, and maybe their friend is left in just as many shattered pieces as yuu was in their final moments. maybe their buddy grows vengeful, blaming nrc for the loss of their only friend there (a completely valid accusation, mind you), and refusing to even touch anyone even affiliated. maybe they try to get home, pick up where they left off when yuu was alive? maybe they give up, chosing instead to attemot to avenge yuu in any way they could. hell, maybe eventually, if it turns out that they really can't get home, they both end up in the same boat. the only source of connection eachother had, the only piece of home, dying with the other.

somehow this also got me thinkin of hivemind yuu which i may rabiesify your askbox with again some other time when the idea is more fleshed out. thank you for proposing ideas to infect my brain. my mouth now froths.

Oooh just for sure for sure I had so many concepts of this like by now you have read my blogs header and know tough yuus are my shit so I'm just gonna play it to their friends too cause here me out: how annoying would it be some members of a cast to see a group of actual friends that use the word 'friends' (cause the original jpn seldom has them use the word compared to eng) that are softies that can knock their lights out

Esp if we sorta look at the at the the Tuu/Twin Yuu idea. (I may be writing something for the evil twin soon tho heheh).

Sure they're siblings/just friends but they're so close together and you can't upset one without upsetting the group cause they're that loyal.

A bully tries to mess with Yuu and sweats when 4 other people come out if the woodwork ready for blood— and they don't get through chance to do anything and Yuus now roughing them up and they're cheering for them.

Now if yuus the popular one? You know the one eveyone knows/deals with/wants to get on the good side of cause reasons? And the group doesn't like that one person therefore Yuu doesn't fuck with them? Oof.

Azul is doing a capitalism rant Tuu (who is poor in this world like Yuu) is like "...you know sometimes I think you're cool Azul and then you open your mouth. Stay away from me man." And ouch that hurt more than if they were actually trying to be mean.

And oh wow the person he was trying to get close too, Yuu, isn't really vibing with him anymore since then because Tuu doesn't like them. How is he supposed to scam them now.

A rougher character messing with you and Tuu is genuinely yelling and cursing them the fuck out as they pushed the offender away and snap with the whole "Leave Yuu alone you have no idea how stressfull our situation is." Or "Floyd. Consent is important you know? If I tell you to stop touching me, it means stop touching me."

Or a whole "Of course none of us want to interact with you all. You think your lack of empathy makes you tougher. It doesn't. Your individualism and survival of the fittest mindset makes you all shortsighted and weak."

Cause like. Theyre genuinely good people + they care about each other and they're still strong and openly kind yet they're thriving and have a leg to stand on here. The antithesis of NRC

And— imagine if they weren't teleported with Yuu, but landed in TWST later. And naturally Yuu is gravitating to them more than their friend group. The group is jealous and Ace is like "Dude come on, haven't we been friends this whole time?"

"That's the first time you said the fabled "f" word." And a whole "They speak my language and know my culture. It's nice having someone that understands you here after being made fun of and ridiculed. Besides I'm their guide here. I didn't get one when I arrived and had to piece stuff together myself. Most of you weren't all that accommodating early on.

Or something evil: maybe the group is a bit of acquaintances/randos/ or even superiors to Yuus world. And their world is authoritarian/military/apocalypse with a strict code to follow and Yuu hasn't followed it.

"Solider where were you?! You dissapeared like some deserter— People almost died because of you!" And it's not Yuus fault but the damage is undeniable. Or the group here has also been mistreated, and Yuu as their leader is clearly not fit.

"This isn't our world. Our laws don't apply here– you cant hurt these people." "...But you are from our world, Yuu. So let's settle this like we are."

And eveyones watching in horror as the group is turning on them. Maybe there's a really violent fight. Or it's sorta a John Wick thing where punishments are archaic and bloody. "You have not done your job to guide us. We have been dragged into trouble and hurt and are not allowed to defend ourselves—" "You defending yourselves involves killing them!" "AS SUCH— ... You have failed to be a guiding hand. An eye for an eye a hand for a hand..."

They produce a dagger. "Put your hand on the table Yuu" Adeuce is panicked and is telling Yuu they dont have to do this but it's their real boss and their failure. They place down their hand and the dagger is stabbed through it. "Now Yuu, redeem yourself. Show us you are willing to bleed for your comrades..." and the person is holding the dagger down. "Or are you going to be a coward and simply take it out?"

I look forward to u being mentally ill abt this topic with me

[leggerefiore]

hi! i love your tom nook content! i was wondering if you could write something with tom nook being protective maybe jealous over the reader? have a wonderful day 💗

cw: jealousy, fluff

pairing: Tom Nook x Reader

Few things really bothered the tanuki.

Nook felt like he was calm, cool, and collected throughout most situations. It was his acumen as a businessman. He would not dare let things get to him as he went. Well, except for a few things. His worry over his protégés likely would never fade, but a certain other person always attracted his ire.

The tanuki hated foxes. This was pretty common in nature – They fulfilled the same ecological role as one another and thus fought over territory when brought together in environments. Nook hated a certain fox for a more direct and personal reason, however.

His current situation started when a human villager moved into his humble town, and he offered them a home for cheap – which they shockingly could not afford. Despite this, he worked with them, not wanting to see another being without a home. He was a harsh businessman, not a harsh person. His relief when they paid it off was immense. Yet, the hung around and captured his heart.

Gently, they cared for the Nooklings and chatted with him regularly when they popped into his store. It was little wonder that he fell into, dare he say, love. They became a staple in his life, slowly taking over more and more of his time until it made little sense for them to live apart from him. He would sell off the house they lived in again and have them in his own attached to the store.

Yet, recently, he had noted a certain oddity they had. A painting. While he had nothing against art, he could quite easily take a glance and see it as a forgery. His fur bristled. He knew exactly who was selling these. The very idea made his stomach turn. But, what could he do? Nook was far from the controlling type.

“Ah, dear,” he caught you one evening as you came home. A smile on your face left his heart warm. “… Might I ask where you obtained that painting, hm? You do know it is a falsity, right?” You were shocked for a moment, stepping towards the painting with obvious annoyance. He sighed. Getting scammed was no fun time. That was something of which he was more than aware. “You shouldn't trust foxes, yes, yes,” he nodded his head and placed a comforting hand on your back. This was a lesson hard learnt, alas.

Hopefully, this would never happen again.

Except, while strolling to town hall, a familiar tent was pitched up outside. He narrowed his eyes, not wishing for an unpleasant experience, but he stopped for a moment. And, in the moment he stopped, someone left the tent. Nook stood stunned. Why…? You had come out, clearly waving farewell to who was inside. His heart raced.

This felt like Redd's most recent attack on him. Haunting the small town he lived in weekly to bother him and now try to sway his partner. You were shocked when Nook marched up to you, clearly frustrated. Taking your wrist in his hold, he brought you back into the tent, ignoring the need for a password entirely.

Redd was pushed back, clearly bewildered someone just so brazenly ignored all the rules. The fox quickly turned around his feelings when he saw who it was. “Oh, it's you,” he shrugged and shook his head, “Why don't ya let my cousin go? That's a pretty tight grip you got there.” Nook felt even more exasperated.

“This is my partner, and I would appreciate it if you stopped selling them your forgeries,” the tanuki tried to make himself larger than the fox. Redd just rolled his eyes and replied that everyone takes a risk in buying from him. Yet, when he glanced at you for some further support, Nook felt his heart race even faster. “Stop that,” he could not believe his carefully trained facade was so easily cracked. Bitter jealousy bit at him. Redd would attempt to woo you and then hurt you. There was not a chance he would allow this to occur.

“You cannot take my partner, Redd,” he glared at him. The fox looked taken aback for a moment, and you stood stunned by his words. He felt bewildered. Why did … he look confused by his words? That had to be his plan. Revenge on him always seemed to be on Redd's mind.

“I didn't even know they were your partner,” the fox was genuinely confused, “Uh, congrats, cuz, I wouldn't marry this guy. He's pretty unreliable.” He waved at you, making you get flustered and look away. Nook felt offended by his words. Redd was the unreliable one! He had been nothing but a model lover to you.

“How could you not know?” he demanded. They both had a strong sense of smell! He knew you had to carry his scent. This was almost conveyed wordlessly to the other man.

“… Do ya think I sniff my customers or something?” Redd deadpanned at his words, “Interesting way you run your shop, Nook.”

Nook had reached his breaking point at that and dragged you off, not wanting to leave you alone with him.

Eventually, you both were at a far enough point that you pulled away from him and stared at him curiously. Nook felt his emotional high come down. Staring at you, he felt completely embarrassed. Why had he acted like that? Well, he certainly knew why, but doing so in front of you left him flustered. What would you think of him now? Shaking your head, you reassured him that you have absolutely zero romantic interest in Redd. Nook nodded. That was obvious. It was Redd he was concerned about. The sly fox would trick you…

Catching his cheek, you reminded him that you certainly only had feelings for him. His eyes closed for a moment. Right. Of course. The tender affection was unfortunately short-lived. You then asked about his history with Redd.

Nook really did not want to recount his youth again.

Instead, he distracted you with an invitation to join him in a trip to the Able Sisters.

[thestellarjade]

Dark Stories

I've been having a lot of thoughts on writing lately. Specifically, about dark stories, and especially about dark fanfiction. I'm gonna put this under a read more cos it's LONG

Tl;dr Jade ponders why we like to make characters suffer, and what that means.

I'm a big fan of dark stories. Always have been, if I'm honest. I remember the books I read as a kid were... well not horror, but they frequently had dark themes. I think, back then, they gave me hope, that if the characters going through such horrible things could manage, then so could I. Bullying, growing up poor raised by a single mother... it didn't seem so crushing.

Being more mature now, I can understand it better. That's the purpose of dark stories: to teach, in some way. I've had people tell me they've learnt a lot from reading my fics, about transness, polyamory, disability etc. Especially in my uni AU, I pour my heart and soul into it to convey some of the things I've been through, the raw elements of transness that it's hard to convey.

And that's it, isn't it, why it's good to read about characters suffering. When it's something we've been through, we feel seen. When it's something we may never go through, we can prepare. When it's something we'll never go through, we learn what it's like for others.

Firefly is a character I almost immediately saw myself in. She's alienated, she's sick, her personhood is in question, she's fighting a never-ending battle to be the person she wants to be. I've dabbled in fanfiction before, but she drew me in and now I'm. Well. i struggle to think about how many people have read, let alone enjoyed my work. I've put so much of myself into it, especially my uni AU, but even in my much fluffier chapterfic.

I was struggling with the grief of having lost another trans woman I had once been close to. I was struggling with the sort-of grief of getting sicker, more disabled. I'd just started walking with a cane. Then here, a woman like me walks onto screen, and with her comes the themes of so much I'd been struggling with in my life.

And she was the main romantic interest. I cannot emphasise enough how important her finding love and comfort is to her story.

So the stories I write about her are dark. I don't shy away from the themes, I think, even when I'm try to focus on the brighter things. I aim for a sort of 'comfortable melancholy' where the darkness is ever present, but we see the happiness that can be found within that. It's a personal preference, but for me I like to focus on the bright side, to contrast light with shadow in a thematic sense.

It's very much a personal preference, but I don't like 'bad' endings. I want there to be a glimmer of hope, a ray of light, the slightest thread to hold onto. To me it's that that has me hooked on dark stories: it makes the light that much more important.

But. I think we all knew there was a 'but' coming.

But what does it mean when every story about a person like you is a sad one?

The real topic I've been pondering has been slightly different: It's 'why do we like to write characters suffering?'

This is a slightly different question to 'why do we read dark stories?'. It's one without a single answer, I think. I know a few reasons for it. One, it's cathartic to get our problems onto the page. Two, it's the joy of knowing how strong an emotional reaction we'll get from readers.

It's something I've definitely observed. My favourite pieces to write are hurt/comfort: because it's perfectly encapsulates what I want, and that is something who is suffering being okay regardless. The pieces I've written that get the best response? Angst pieces, the grimmer the better. More kudos, more hits, especially more comments.

I'm okay with this, of course. I don't compromise what I want to write for attention (even though, and I think if you're reading this you know by now, I live for the attention). I like it when readers enjoy my work, especially when I get to cut loose and really nail those dark themes I love. Sorry though, I'm still a sucker for fluff~

So the 'why' does, in a fashion, make sense. I do it. We all do it, frankly. So why is there an undercurrent of guilt? Is it me sympathising for the character I'm inflicting it on? Even though they're a concept that can't actually feel conscious pain?

It's a little bit that. I mean, the whole point is to feel a bond with the characters write, even if you're the author? Perhaps especially? That's just part of what makes stories so important.

Mostly though? It's because I have this thought. 'What happens when every story about you is a sad one?'.

I'm a sap. I get sad very easily. I can't handle raw angst, not even slightly. It makes me unable to read so much of the fic that's out there for my favourite character. That's me personally, and I want to emphasise that I don't begrudge other authors for that. Hell it's probably a blessing that I can't read more of it given I already struggle to read at all.

Disclaimer for emphasis again: I do not mean this as a chastisement of other authors, not even slightly. This is a meditation on a pattern I see. I don't have any strong conclusions on what, if anything, 'needs' to be done about this.

The type of characters we make suffer like this are disproportionately more marginalised characters. I can only speak to myself, of course, and the things I face, but, well.

Let's make this about Firefly specifically. What does it mean that people like to make a character I see so much of myself in suffer? I've noticed a very loose pattern that suggestions that other trans woman, chronically ill people etc. have had the least interest in reading pure angst of her. It's what got me on this train of thought specifically (But hey I could still be wrong)

I'd be lying if I said it doesn't hurt a little.

Now, I don't know what other authors have been through, and I don't assume to. We all have things going on, and this is the internet. People shouldn't be expected to share everything, like oh my god.

But... not every fic is written by someone who's been through everything the character has. Hell I mean when writing Firefly I can hardly draw on experience of being a war survivor can I?

It's something I see in media sometimes. In the same story, a woman's story can be a realistic one of emotional struggle, while the man's story is a bombastic power fantasy, despite going through much the same stuff.

I think I've arrived at as close to a conclusion as I can get without just repeating myself. Making characters suffer is, in my experience, a good thing. A fun thing.

But I think I wish people found a little more joy in making characters like me get to be happy, as well.

[bones4thecats]

Heyy hii hellooo , hruuu and what's your fav cat breed , btw can i req a leonidas , Nikola Tesla , hades , and Hercules x fem!homura akemi!reader

I hope you watch Madoka Magica , i just want a simple long ahh angst and then fluff

So basically the reader is like the goddess of time (for the gods part) and a time traveler(for the humans part) the reader basically repeat the same month that Ragnarok has taken place for over 1200 years just to save them from their fate which was turning into a green weed snort dust in because the charas are who she hold dear so much since they are her husband , each time she failed and failed and that affect the universe since she bend the time around the charas making them stronger but each timeline they just die , and i want them to confront the reader Abt it and then the reader is like having a meltdown or something and then tell em all the stuff she have been doing to the point she almost gone insane with all the timeline of watching them die

And after that can you just put on like a huge comfort scene where the charas finally survive and comfort the reader after all the pain she gone through

I hope you don't mind , sorry if it too muchhh srryyyyyy

A/N: Okay, my favorite cat breed is the Birman, it's just so fluffy and cute!! It also reminds me of a Siamese. This is one of the saddest things I have ever written, so expect to cry a few tears and then feel like your heart’s gonna explode! This is kinda themed after the song Haunted by Taylor Swift because I was listening to it while writing. Enjoy~~

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・

🚬 You had tried so many times, yet you always fail… why?

🚬 Why wasn’t it fair then, why wasn’t it fair now? Why did he have to die, why couldn’t that selfish and impish God Apollo die?!

🚬 1,200 years you have tried, over 103,782 attempts have been made in counting, maybe this would be the one to work!

🚬 But it was too much for one person to watch their one and only, their husband, die over and over and over by the same cause

🚬 You watched as he trained, and you couldn’t stop crying each time

🚬 Leonidas looked over at you and grinned his signature grin saying, ready for battle

🚬 When he hugged you that night you started to cry and not stop, which caused him to look at you with shock

🚬 You never cried

🚬 He kneeled down and tilted your head towards his face, his eyes asking the same question over and over again

“ Are you okay, my love? “

🚬 That was when you let loose, spilling everything, the endless death and depression you had gone through just to see him win, it made his heart ache

🚬 You went through all of this to see him come out on top, to see him alive again

🚬 Leonidas held you and shushed you, while you mumbled how it wasn’t fair since no matter how much you tried it never worked

“ You cannot escape fate, love. But, no matter what happens, believe me, I will always, always be by your side. No matter what. “ “ Promise? “ “ I promise. “

🚬 And he did. He won. He beat that snobbish bastard, Humanity cheered for the win while you smiled and cried happy tears for another reason

🚬 You finally did it, he lived…

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・

🧪 This stupid myth wasn’t coming to fruition, it said every time you traveled, he’d grow stronger! Just how much more strength did he need?!

🧪 Time after time again he died from that depleaded and god-awful immortal Beelzebub, why did he have to live?!

🧪 He hurt a child for crying out loud, causing him to turn into a blood-thirsty monster for the heck of it! He didn’t deserve life! He showed no remorse for what he had done, even Thor showed some of it to Lü Bu!

🧪 While thriving on the past, you were watching Nikola work on a problem for his armor for Ragnarok and you smiled when he got the fact right, it was better than last time, maybe this was it?

🧪 He did the same thing as last time, but he added more weaponry and more strength to it per your request, now maybe it could work!

🧪 You sat by Hlökk and Jack while the fight ensued, and you were praying that he would win, that your husband could finally come home safe and sound

🧪 And he did it… he- he beat Beelzebub!

🧪 Nikola was healing as you jumped onto him, he chuckled and kissed your forehead, and that was when you let it loose

🧪 You spilled the tea, all of it, the 1,200 years of torment that you faced watching him die, the same fate over and over and over again, not being able to stop it hurt

“ Darling, I am sorry for failing you so many times. “ “ It’s not your fault, you’re here now… and I’m thankful. “ “ I am thankful as well, Y/N… “

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・

💀 No, no, no, no!

💀 Every god-forsaken time, the same damn thing!

💀 Oh that human will pay for his insolence, killing the King that you loved was a crime only punishable by death at the hands of his victim!

💀 Every single time that Hades proclaimed his wish to fight, you were with him, helping him train to beat that puny being

💀 But every time it wasn’t enough, and it hurt so much…

💀 And the way that human smiled and had every human there cheering for him made you sick, many lost an ally, Zeus, Hermes, Ares, and Adamas all lost a brother and uncle, one that cared for them oh so much, and you…

💀 You lost your one and only love…

💀 But maybe this time it would work! It said that they grew stronger every time you traveled, so maybe now it would be right!

💀 Hades looked up at you and smiled as he prepared for battle, and every cut and bruise only gave you the biggest PTSD stain in history

💀 He couldn’t die, he just couldn’t!

💀 And when the cry of Zeus’ cry entered your ears, you started to doubt everything

💀 It worked, it finally fucking worked!

💀 You had never sprinted that hard before into the arms of your love, dragging him to the infirmary after sharing the best kiss known to the Gods

💀 Hades saw how sad yet happy your eyes were while he healed, and when he looked at you and asked why you were so down, you tole him everything, sobbing the process

" My dear, you've seen that happen all those times? For that long? " *Sigh* " I apologize for not being able to change that for so long, but, now we can start the life we've always wanted, by each others sides for eternity. "

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💪 He was the kindest soul you had ever met, why would fate just screw him over like this?!

💪 You understood he knew Jack far better than you, but watching the human just kill your lover blinded all of your judgement, no matter what

💪 Heracles had died so many times in front of you that you felt like crying tears of joy and sadness from both seeing him alive and from knowing what was bound to happen

💪 This time he had been talking to his adoptive brother, Ares, when you traveled back to see him and try getting him to survive, and seeing him with the only other person who wept and understood how much the lose of him affected you just hurt

💪 He called out to you and hugged you in his arms while calling his goodbyes to Ares, in which the God of War just smiled and waved back

💪 Your husband was the one person you didn't want to lie to anymore, and you hopes that after 1,200 years, this may be the final time you'd have to travel to save him

💪 You grabbed his hand which caused Heracles to turned around and give you a curious look, and that was when you told him

" 1,200 years for me? Angel, you... you didn't have to do all of this for me! "

💪 Heracles looked at you with shock, he figured nobody would drain themselves physically or mentally to the point of near insanity just for him...

💪 He hugged you even closer and he swore the same thing you heard over the last thousand years;

" I'll be safe, and when this is all over, we'll rest together just like before... I promise. "

💪 Your husband laid the most gentle kiss on your lips ever as you nodded, believing the words more than you ever did before

💪 Before Round 4 of Ragnarok started, you strolled over to the Humans side to speak to their fighter, Jack the Ripper, so you could get something clear

" In these last 1,200 years, I have been trying to get my husband back... as whenever he fought against you, he lost... died at your hands. And while I respect you and everything you have done for your people, I am just asking you one thing; Is this really what you want to be known for? Pure murder? "

💪 When Jack was about to kill Heracles, he remembered your words and smiled humbly before lowering his hands to the ground and laying on his knees, causing Heracles to stop and stare at the male

" I do not wish to kill you, God. " " Heracles. And Jack, I do not wish to kill you. This match stays at a draw! "

💪 All Gods and Humans were obviously pissed, but you got your husband back, and one of your previously close friends. Win-Win for you!