#although the reason for that anxiety is fear of something that will. put me back in the hospital.

[uranium]

weird relationship with hospital. on one hand i experienced Horrors while there but on the other hand its like the number one place to be if you randomly explode

[hannsluvely]

after hours

after hours : a live action buggy x fem!reader fanfiction

for some odd reason, you have no idea who he is. and he fucking loved that.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

chapter one | caution. chaos. coconut. his pov;

I didn't like to put a label on things; doing so made things too specific, too real. And for me, I preferred for things to seem as unspecific and false as possible.

I preferred for things to be simple. There is beauty in simplicity.

Maybe that's why I found her to be so gorgeous.

She was simple.

There was not a single thing I didn't know about her. I didn't need to go out of my own way to find out her favorite color or food - she told me (though not directly). She told them. She told everyone. She was rather open about herself while I kept everything private. I had my reasons to remain rather anonymous and to stay out of the spotlight and thrive in the shadows while she glistened in the spotlight. She was an open book.

But I still wanted to read her.

I wanted to study her.

And maybe that's why I traveled to the North Blue - to be closer to her. But I wouldn't admit that aloud. I would seem rather insane if she knew, and I wasn't insane. My mind operated differently to others. I was often classified as different and odd, especially by my peers when I was still in school. I was teased to be the quiet kid, picked on because of my nose. I was deemed to be the one most likely to commit some type of horrid act. They weren't wrong, but no one likes to be judged for how they truly are.

She didn't judge me.

Well, of course, she didn't even know me.

But she wasn't the type to judge. Which made my appeal to her even more strong and wild. I was finally able to watch her up close, months after first discovering a rare form of art like her.

The bar was packed, much to my dismay. I liked things to remain quiet despite my love for disarray. I was able to think when it was quiet. I’ve always had thousands of thoughts racing through my mind, so much so that it was difficult to pick a single train and hop on board. But when my eyes landed on her, my mind settled.

She was sitting alone in the corner of the bar, a large round booth all to herself. She had a small yet cute smile on her round face as she sipped on a beverage. Not alcohol- no, she hated alcohol, which is why I cut back on it. I wanted to be the best version of myself for her. Well, whenever I got the courage to talk to her, that is. She made me cower in fear, in anxiety. Someone so timid and fragile as her made someone like me- a pirate, a killer, a clown fall to his knees. I was a fool for her.

Lifting up my drink, I took a sip of the carbonated juice, grimacing as the alcoholic tang was nonexistent. I scoured and gave in, waving down one of the waitresses to add something to my drink. Maybe then I would be able to think straight and finally be able to talk to her. I needed something to fog my judgement and give me the balls to go talk to her- although my dick was confidence enough. God, the way she made me feel was impeccable. She made my pants tighten when she took a sip of her drink. I watched her pink lips suck on the straw as she kicked her feet and examined a newspaper on the wooden table. I squirmed in my seat and leaned back, a deep sigh leaving my lips.

Once the waitress topped off my drink, I waved her off and continued to sit by myself, admiring the maiden who sat by herself. By herself? God, I still didn’t get that. How was she alone? How was she sitting by herself in a bar as crowded as this one? She had friends, many of them. She had family, too. But why must she sit in silence and all by her lonesome?

I huffed and itched at the back of my neck, my hand dragging down to grab my chin and cover my nose. I clenched my jaw and pondered the possibility that my ego would actually allow me to stand up, walk over to her, and sit across from her. Maybe I could buy her a drink? But nevertheless, I remained glued to my seat, downing at least three glasses of whiskey. I lost track.

I lost complete track of time that whenever I finally came back to, she was standing tall, slinging her coat back over her shoulders, and starting for the door. I gulped and turned, my eyes following her. But before she could leave the bar and disappear for the night, a tall, stout man blocked her exit. I squinted my eyes.

“And where do you think ‘yer going?” The pirate smirked, his arms folding over his chest. His belly bounced as he laughed. “Going so soon?”

“Please let me by,” She instructed, trying to budge past the weighted man but to no avail, he stood still. “What is it you want?”

“To see you undressed.”

I grabbed the edge of the table, feeling my body grow hot. It wasn’t because of her, though it mostly always was. She had an effect on me. But this man, he angered me, fucking enraged me. I could feel my blood beginning to boil as he continued to harass both her and me.

“Oh, come on, what’s a sexy little lady like you got going on tonight?” The fat man hummed, reaching forward to grab hold of the leather backpack that hung over her shoulder’s. She shoved him away and backed up.

“I’ll find another exit,” She announced and turned on her heel, starting to head to the back of the bar where other patrons parted through.

“Come on!”

She walked right past me, speeding down the aisle. I closed my eyes and inhaled the sweet, delicate scent of her perfume and shampoo. Vanilla and coconut. Fuck me.

“I can walk you home!”

She stopped in her steps and faced the obese pirate, her arms folding over her chest. “Fuck off, you pig!” She spat, eyes rolling as she started to turn around once again but she stopped, and looked at me.

Oh my god, she looked at me.

At me.

“Baby, can we go?”

I blinked. What?

“Please?” She asked, looking at me with such desperation in her eyes that a tent started to form in my pants.

What? What was she doing? I didn’t know whether to accept or deny. Why was she doing this? Was she delusional? Stupid? Hallucinogenic?

“I know you wanted to have a bit more to drink but I feel much safer walking back with you. You can come back after,” She smiled softly and stepped toward me, her soft hand resting on my shoulder. She then leaned down, inching closer to me. Her lips grazed my ear, hot breath making my skin redden. “Please go along with it,” She pleaded.

“Ah, so you have a mate, huh?” The stout pirate laughed, taking a few hard steps towards the two of us. “That’s okay with me.”

Her soft eyes darted from me to the pirate and then back to me. She looked so enchanting when in distress.

“Hey.” I grabbed her wrist and squeezed it. “Yes, of course, darlin’. Come on.” I moved her arm and she backed up, standing straight. I dug through my pocket and tossed as much spare change I had onto the table then scooted up. My hand grabbed hers tightly, not wanting to let go. She looked at me, her eyes sparkling with confusion but I just led her down the aisle, my free hand wrapping around her shoulder. “You look lovely tonight, by the way. It slipped my mind whether I told you or not.”

“Oh, uh…” She looked down, her face growing as red as the nose on my face. “Thank you.”

“Yeah,” I whispered and as we approached the door, the pirate seemed to be cowering in fear as he finally recognized who had the honor of taking this lovely maiden home. And it was me.

“I-I’m sorry, sir, I—“

“Step aside,” I growled.

“Yes, s-sir, I’m sorry. Of course!” He was about to piss himself.

I faked a smile and as soon as he moved, I pushed the door open and allowed her and I to walk down the narrow wooden staircase and back onto the dock. To my disappointment, she pulled from my grip and grabbed the straps of her backpack, letting out a deep sigh as she folded over. “Jesus,” She whispered.

“Are you okay?” I asked, taking a step to approach her.

My hand rested on the small of her back and I smiled softly though the red paint extended it from cheek to cheek.

“Thank you for doing that.”

“Oh, uh?” My eyes furrowed. “It’s no problem.”

“You’re not gonna try to get in my pants, right?”

“N-No! No, no. No.” I lied with a reassuring smile.

“Okay, good,” She grinned. “Guys are so weird. I swear the ugly ones are the ones that are most obsessed with me. I attract the weird ones.”

I clenched my jaw. Ouch.

“I’m sorry if I interrupted you. You—“

“Don’t apologize. It’s okay,” I shoved my hands into the pockets of my coats and I dragged my foot. “Are you gonna be okay?” I tried my best to act uninterested in her but my body was bouncing and I wanted nothing more than to throw myself onto her. She was divine when she was distressed.

“What’s your name?”

“Uhm,” I swallowed. “Buggy.”

“Oh, that’s new. I’ve never heard of that name before. Is it a stage name? To match your makeup?”

“Makeup?”

“You look like a clown. Is that your real nose?”

“Nose?” I grimaced and nodded my head. “Yes. Yes, it is real. Any other questions?”

“No, I’m sorry,” She smiled and let out a deep sigh of relief. “Thank you again, honestly.”

“You need to start watching out for yourself. If I wasn’t there, you’d have been his next plaything,” I gagged at the thought.

“Why were you there?”

“Huh?”

“You look like a pirate. So what made you sit by yourself in a bar? Where’s your crew?”

All these questions. I smiled. I loved her curiosity.

“I was a pirate. Uh, taking a bit of a break.”

“What for?”

So I can follow you around and learn every single little thing there is to know about a beautiful goddess such as yourself. “Personal reasons,” I lied. I dipped my head down and traced my foot along the wooden planks, chewing on my inner cheek. “What’s your name?”

I knew it, I just wanted to hear her say it.

“It’s Y/N. I know, it’s not nearly as cool as yours.”

I laughed aloud, bursting into a fit of cackles and giggles. “What? You’re insane. Thanks for the flattery but try to find a souvenir keychain with a name like mine.” I wiped a fake tear.

The dimming sun finally disappeared past the ocean’s horizon, leaving Y/N and I surrounded by dimly lit lanterns and the settling sea crashing waves against the old dock. I stood still while she seemed to be trembling. It was rather cold. “Uh,” I started to slip my jacket off. “Do you need it?”

“No, no, I’m good. Thank you, though. I’m gonna start heading back now,” She announced as she looked over her shoulder, squinting. “It’s getting really late.”

“Yeah, uh, it is.”

“Well, Buggy, it was nice meeting you. I’d give you a hug but no offense, you reek of beer,” Y/N smiled.

“It’s whiskey,” I remarked.

“It’s all the same to me.” I know it is.

“Do you need me to walk you home?”

“No, I’m good. We’re still strangers and I don’t feel safe with someone I’m unfamiliar with knowing my address. No offense, though.” She said ‘no offense’ a lot. And I already knew her address. I even had access to the spare key she often left underneath a clothed doormat. “Thank you for the offer.”

“Don’t mention it.”

She nodded and smiled, showing her gorgeous teeth. Her cheeks were pink, dusted by the cool air. Her hair wafted off her shoulders as the breeze picked up. Her aroma caught my attention once again.

“Can you turn around? I don’t want you seeing where I’m going.”

She’s adorable.

“Yeah, alright.”

And so I did. I turned around, making her feel a bit more at ease. I swallowed, staring straight into the endless ocean ahead of me, listening to the sounds of her soft footsteps slowly disappear.

When I turned around, she was gone.

And so was the sweet smell of vanilla and coconut.

[otomehoneyybearr]

Golden Week Happy Bag 2024

Kagari’s Story

One day, during my stay in Kogyoku, I had been whisked away by Kagari.

Kagari: "Princess."

Emma: "Wah...!"

Suddenly pulled back by the shoulders, I instinctively cling to Kagari sitting beside me.

Kagari: "...You were leaning too far forward. You would have fallen if you stayed like that."

Emma: "Oops, Sorry, I'll be more careful."

Kagari: "You better be. If you get injured, it'll ruin the cherry blossom viewing."

(Even though it was you who forcefully brought me here...)

(But you don't often get to see such a beautiful view, do you?)

The place where Kagari took me to was atop a cherry blossom tree in the castle with red tiles.

The fully bloomed cherry blossoms filling my sight, along with the blue sky and the town visible through the gaps, create a fantastical scene like a painting.

I gaze in wonder, as a gentle breeze caresses my skin, carrying the cherry blossom petals that fluttered around.

(It's beautiful...)

Kagari: "In Kogyoku, it's said that if you can catch falling cherry blossom petals with your non-dominant hand, you'll find happiness."

Kagari: "I suppose you want to try it, Princess?"

Emma: "Of course. I'll make it happen in one go, so please watch."

Focusing on the fluttering petals, I waited for the right moment.

(Now!)

Kagari: "..."

(Here it is!)

Kagari: "..."

(This time for sure!)

Emma: "That's odd, seems like I'm off my game today."

Kagari: "Just admit that your reflexes and visual acuity are lacking."

(Well... that's harsh.)

The result was a crushing defeat, ending with me just grabbing at thin air.

Kagari: "Your hair seems to be doing a better job."

As soon as the hand wrapped in red gloves touched my hair, petals began to fall from it.

Kagari: "That’s one, two, three... four petals."

Emma: "That's a lot."

Kagari: "It seems you're fond of this cherry blossom. Hold still since there are still some left."

Emma: "Uh, okay."

(It feels like being petted on the head. It's nice, but a little embarrassing.)

Pretending not to notice the warmth on my cheeks, I wait for Kagari to withdraw his hand.

Kagari: "..."

Emma: "Um, is something the matter, Kagari?"

Noticing the intense gaze, I keep my gaze on Kagari without averting them.

For some reason, Kagari takes a cherry blossom petal from my hair and puts it in his own, then tilts his head towards me.

(Is he… asking me to take it?)

Reaching out to his fiery red hair, I pluck the petal.

Occasionally, my hand is pressed against his head, and instinctively, I start to stroke it...

(Ah… it feels like being affectionately approached by a big cat, it's cute.)

Seeing a slight softening in his expression, my heart tightens.

Kagari: "Is it over already?"

Emma: "Yes. I've taken all the petals out."

Kagari: "...I see."

(Somehow, he seems disappointed.)

(Come to think of it, why did Kagari bring me to see the cherry blossoms?)

Subordinate: "Your highness."

I lowered my gaze at the sudden voice to find Kagari's subordinate standing there.

Subordinate: "The preparations for the meeting are complete."

Kagari: "Alright. You may proceed with it."

Subordinate: "Yes, understood."

(A meeting...)

●●●●●● Flashback ●●●●●●

Emma: "Um, Kagari, you seem to be injured..."

Kagari: "It's not my blood."

Kagari: "Your timing is truly terrible, Princess."

●●●●●● Flashback End ●●●●●●

(Is another battle about to begin?)

Anxiety and fear crawl up my spine as the image of Kagari covered in blood flashes in my mind.

(I’d been taught that battles are like everyday occurrences in Kogyoku.)

(Still, I hope the damage isn't too severe.)

Although I'm an outsider, I can't help but earnestly wish for it.

Kagari: "...Apologies are meaningless now."

Emma: "Huh?"

When I looked up, the expressionless emerald eyes that had been staring at me turned towards the cherry blossoms as if passing by.

Kagari: "The cherry blossom viewing is over. It was a good distraction."

The wind once again stirred the cherry blossoms, showering petals.

Kagari effortlessly plucked a petal dancing in the air between his thumb and forefinger, and offered it to me.

Kagari: "A petal caught by a demon should have some effect."

Emma: "Only some effect?"

Kagari: "Don't want it? Fine then, suit yourself."

Kagari: "Did you want to become that happy?"

Emma: "I want it because it's a petal you caught for me."

Kagari: "Is that so?"

Emma: "Yes, it is."

Kagari: "...I see. It feels good to hear that."

Emma: "Thank you. I'll treasure it."

(An apology... Was that the meaning behind the cherry blossom viewing?)

(Yasha and battle maniac are terms used to describe him, but at heart, he's a kind person.)

I carefully cradle the received petal in both hands, making sure it doesn't get swept away by the wind.

(Another memory that's been made in here in kogyoku.)

Kagari: "You're that happy over just one petal? You're an easy-to-please Princess."

Emma: "Whoa...!?"

As I’m forcefully pulled closer, Kagari scooped me up in his arms and descended from the cherry blossom tree.

He’s always abrupt and forceful like this.

As my feet touch the ground, a sense of loneliness washes over me, as if signaling the end of a dream.

Kagari: "Farewell, Princess."

Emma: "...Yes."

(I've met Kagari many times already.)

(Yet... he never says "see you later," does he?)

▼・ᴥ・▼

[theanonymousninja247]

Random Turtle HC: Raph & Anxiety

*clears throat and approaches microphone before hitting whiteboard with a ruler* A-HEM! Behold my theories peasants!

As we see expresses in the VERY 1st episode of ROTTMNT, the turtles can recognize each others signature scents and can smell fear.

Raph especially is shown briefly through the brothers dialogue to be the most aware and self conscious about said scent to the point of becoming defensive about it.

This leads me to believe that due to both natural biological olfactory senses and increased abilities due to mutation, the turtle brothers (with an advanced ability tipping to Raph due to his size and sensitivity) can actually smell the hormone cortisol.

WebMD defines cortisol as, “Your body’s main stress hormone. It works with certain parts of your brain to control your mood, motivation, and fear.”

Simply put, the turtle boys can literally smell fear.

Now I know you’re asking yourself, “Okaaaaaay cool fun fact I guess, what does that have to do anything with me?”

*takes a step back and adjust glasses with a smirk*

My dear dear fellow tumblr, allow me to share the wonders of mixing fact, madness and media all in one! *sounds of maniacal cackling can be heard*

(I wrote this with the intent to be platonic but it could be romantic if you squint long enough)

•So we've established Raph can smell fear right?

•As a protective big brother who is quite literally in fact “BIG” he knows a thing or two about getting scared

• Especially when it comes to looking out for people he cares about

•Hes been fighting baddies for his family since he was a tot! From keeping away scary dreams at night, from crushed ancient metal zombies to terrifying alien virus monsters, there ain't much he hasn't seen

•So when you join the ranks of the Mad Dogz, you immediately also get a built in prtoector

•Raphs been looking out for the little guys his whole life, what's one more?

•Not to mention you're kinda cute, so he doesn't mind sticking around a little bit closer

•But you're different than most folks, Raph notices. I mean besides the fact that you WILLING want to be friends with 4 mutant turtles of all things.

•No besides your abnormal incredible bravery in looking beyond the status quo to reach out the hand of friendship to these reckless reptiles, Raph noticed that you just kind of…smelled

•Not in a bad way or anything just…you always seemed to have a lingering scent of fear on you

•And Raph would know. Hed recognize that scent anywhere. It's a scent that ghosts every hour of every day for him. Nighttime and being alone especially.

•Raph hates being scared. He's the biggest and the oldest. He's supposed to look after his peeps! And he can't do that if he's frozen with fear all the time!

•So what does he do? Raph faces the problem head on like he always do.

•You get scared a lot. That's understandable, but Raph decides to make it his business that you don't need to be scared when he's around.

•Raph’ll protect ya

•Be prepared to have this turtle subtly (orrer not to much so because although he's a ninja he ain't exactly tactful or subtle) watching you every time you and the gang get all together

•Its not hard. You've always caught his attention for some reason or another. So looking at you is something he does without even realizing it.

•He’s looking for triggers, anything that gets that heart rate of yours spiking and that scent start to waft.

•Fidgeting hands, bouncing knees, shutting down and slinking into your hoodie, nervous chewing, pulling or playing with your hair and pacing, he's got eyes on it all.

•Once a trigger has been spotted, Raph immediately tries to locate the source

•Too many people? Suddenly you find a 6ft something giant turtle behind you, letting you know with his massive presence alone that he got your back. Literally.

•He kinda likes this position because he can see everyone that comes close enough to interact with you and everybody can see him.

•All he's got to do is narrow his eyes a little a give em a flash of that all too familiar snaggle tooth of his if he thinks someone's being mean and he gets his unspoken threat across just fine

•Not to mention you're also close enough to grab if someone he doesn't deem fit for your attention gets a little too close for his liking. But he doesn't say that part out loud.

•Scared of talking? You suddenly feel the cool tip of his massive scaely alligator tail (anatomically correct alligator tail be darned, I'm going with the fandoms HCs for this one) gently wrapping around your ankle as a physical reminder that he's right there here to support you

•Overwhelmed and the world feels like it's closing in on you? Raphs massive size is a natural battering ram that allows him to pass through thick crowds with easy. He's not afraid to help heard you into a quiet little corner away from it all

•Years of practice with Donnie allows him the experience to ask you if you're good with touch.

•If yes, you know you're going to be instantly wrapped into his arms, pulled flushed up against the worn keratin of his plastron. Raph’s always been more of “hands-on experience” kinda of guy anyway.

•Raph gives good hugs. They're firm and tight, padded with the security of arms who have been holding the weight of the world for years.

•He will rest his chin on top of your head, gently guiding your head with the motion ever so slightly so you're somehow perfectly nestled right against his heart.

•It's a loud heart, especially when you're up so close. It's actually his strongest muscle and one he's most proud of. He cares about you, so he reckons he’ll allow you the privilege of getting close to it. In more ways than one.

•Raph doesn't talk much during these special security hugs. He's never really been much good with words anyways. Raph knows sometimes the noise can be too much, but he also knows that the silence can be defeaning. So being a turtle comes with some built in perks that make up a happy medium.

•Hes got a special churr saved for special situations just like this one. It's one of the lowest and deepest ones he's capable of making. More akin to a muted growl more than anything the way it vibrates his chest as you're pressed up against it. You can feel it more than hear it and it just takes a handful of minutes listening to this bad boy before Raph can sense your fear stink slowly dissipating and your natural sweet scent can return.

•Raph can smell fear, and there's something incredibly humbling for this Atlas of a turtle to have the sweet experience of watching that scent drift away whenever he gets the privilege of being close to you like this.

•”You don't need to be scared no more, Sweet Pea. Raph’s got ya. I'm gonna be right here until you're ready to face the world again. Until then, let me just hold ya.”

Dedicated to the one and only @anobodyinabog. Sorry this took so long,but I hope your day gets better Shortcake. Please know you're always looked out for and loved ok? 🧡❤️

[finickyfelix]

Range of Emotions Tag Game:

Special thanks to @diabolical-blue for creating this tag game and for tagging me in it! Although I can't get links to embed properly for unknown reasons, I am going to try to hopefully link her post below because I really want people to check it out, plus it only seems polite to link her post since she created the tag game. Hopefully the link will work.

Rules: Choose one OC at a time, search any of your writing featuring that OC, and share passages where that character expresses each emotion in this list: joy - anger - sadness - anxiety - fear - disgust - embarrassment. Bonus points if the emotion is implied but not listed in the text by name. If there’s a reason the character does not ever express one of those emotions, feel free to share that reasoning instead.

I am going to do this for Tievis, since his usual expression is neutral and seemingly emotionless but he is extremely emotional and has never made a logic-based decision in his life, so writing his emotions is fun to me. Also I am going to use excerpts from Faded Daisy only and not Snakeskin, since I think it's more interesting if he's not the POV character.

Joy:

As soon as Dr. Tievis returned to his flat, he was smiling in a way that confused and scared you. He didn't seem to even notice that the door was unlocked. He set his case down shockingly haphazardly, then sat down on the floor before you and grabbed your hands in both of his, grinning up at you.

You were frozen in terror, staring blankly at his smiling face, as he pressed his lips to the backs of your cold hands. “You're a miracle,” he murmured against your skin, and you shivered.

Anger:

“You don't need to examine it all night. Comb your hair,” he said, voice rising. His carefully kept composure was cracking before your eyes, and over a comb? You knew it wasn't because of the comb. He kept himself too restrained to allow something so small to upset him. But now, after this morning, his patience with you was crumbling, and it hurt.

Sadness:

Then silence descended upon the two of you, his silence pensive and your silence confused. Then you think you realized what he was implying. “Was your family… Did they do bad things to you?”

He laughed. The sound was humorless and abrasive, and you hoped to never hear it again. “Yes, you could put it like that.”

You didn't press him. You didn't want to know the details, and you didn't think he wanted to tell them.

Anxiety:

You looked at him, and he looked at you, nearly feverishly, and you didn't ask any of the questions that clamored at your mind (Where did you go? Why were you gone for so long? Is there something wrong with your hand? Why are you looking at me like that?) Instead, you waited for him to have the first word, as he always had before.

“I need to get you out of here,” he said, and there was an edge to his voice that hadn't been there before.

Fear:

He stared at you, eyes wide. You grabbed me, his shocked expression said. You're not supposed to touch me.

Disgust:

Dr. Tievis spared one contemptful look behind him at the people who were now just hurrying to their own destinations, no longer looking at the two of you. “Humans in this blighted city think monsters should be dead so they take issue with the fact that I am not killing them and am taking them in.” His voice was harsh and sour on the word “humans,” as though he were spitting out something bitter.

Embarrassment:

“Please don't make me turn around,” he said suddenly once he was fully undressed, voice softer. “Don’t you get it yet?”

You didn't. You didn't get it. You couldn't understand most of what he was saying, just that he was showing pieces of his past that you weren't sure you wanted to see, and that he was clearly in pain over it. “What do you mean?” Your voice was as soft as his. This was not a time for raised voices.

He turned around, color high with shame, his body completely exposed to you, his face set in the resigned expression of someone ready to face his own execution.

Tagging my tag list, as well as open tag for anyone else who wants to do my beloved mutual's new tag game for their own character <3

Hello tag list. @the-letterbox-archives, @leahnardo-da-veggie, @the-scaredy-crow, @tragedycoded, @drchenquill, @fifis-corner, @melpomene-grey, and @cedar-sunshine

As always, please let me know if you would like to be added or removed from my tag list. Although at this point I'm tempted to ask people outright if they want to stay on it, because I have convinced myself that I am bothering people so much and because I can't believe that people actually want to see my writing, so I assume that most of you secretly want off the tag list but just aren't telling me.

[puhpandas]

GGY Week Day 2: Comfort

Gregory has to deal with his injury from trapping the mimic and everything else that comes with the experience after dealing with GGY and the Pizzaplex. His injury also took away one of his only escapes. Hurray.

Gregory didnt even get to finish his long, drawn out miserable groan before Vanessa opens the door to his room and comes inside.

He's still doing it when she shuts the door behind her and makes her way to his bed. He doesn't look away from his phone, which he's holding in his lap, even when she approaches.

She wordlessly ducks her head to look at what's on his screen, and when she gets a look at it, that's finally when he finishes.

He frowns, miserably looking at his phone screen. "The Soccer team seems to be having a great time without me."

It had been an impulsive decision one day at school (after he managed to get enrolled again) to join the team after he'd seen a flyer. It had made so much sense at the time. Gregory loved running, (and was very fast for his age), was good at kicking, although for the wrong reasons, and was very tired of being stuck inside with plenty of opportunities to remember everything terrible that's ever happened to him with no breaks.

Ness had been proud of him, that he'd taken a leap like that. Gregory knows how much Vanessa struggles with social interaction after Vanny. Gregory... he was afraid to join the team at first, not because of social anxiety, but for a completely different reason. Rab kept entering his mind, because the last time he made friends...

He... he had been tired of sitting around being nothing but afraid, though. So he did it anyway, and ignored all anxiety digging a hole in his stomach about Rab to try and prove himself wrong.

And it worked. He loved soccer, was great for his team, at least his teammates thought so, and was great with the other kids.

Besides school itself, it's one of the only things he has that gets him out. Out of everything. The house, his head, his funk... Its something important to him. It's a hobby that doesn't have an ulterior motive, like robotics does. He does that because hes good at it, likes it just fine, but also because Freddy needs a guy good with robots to give him the scheduled maintenance he needs to stay functional, and Gregory would sooner jump off the catwalks in Monty Golf than leave Freddy without that.

But soccer... he doesnt have an adult reason to be there. Its fun. He has friends there after so long of having none out of fear and a way to put all of his skills he learned for the wrong reasons to good use. He feels normal there. Like everything with Rab and Tony and Ellis and his parents can be pushed to the back of his mind to just. Have fun. Be a kid.

And now, he's stuck in bed.

It's a little harder to see with how the sunlight from his open blinds glares on his screen, but he gets it clear as day. The team sent him a Snap just to update him on how they're doing while Gregory is away. It's a picture of them on the field, uniforms dirty and cheeks scraped and smiles on their faces. He can feel the adrenaline and good kind of exhaustion through the screen, having experienced it.

Vanessa doesnt respond for a second, just nodding grimly and patting him on the leg. "Sorry to hear that." She says, all formal like she does. Then, "Would some ice cream make you feel better?"

Normally, he'd light up, but he hasnt felt it like that in a while. He nods anyway, a small smile on his face. "Of course."

She goes to the kitchen to make them some. While shes gone, he keeps staring at the picture, feeling the will to get back on the field so strongly but unable to.

When she comes back, it's with two big bowls of ice cream, one scoop for her, and three for Gregory. She knows him well. He takes it from her, once again not looking away from his phone.

She sits next to him on his double bed (one that Vanessa for some reason already had on hand in his room that looked like it hadn't been touched in years) and makes herself comfortable. He leans his head against the wall, his hair brushing up against stray peeling corners of drawings he has hung up.

He sighs through his nose, taking a bite of ice cream and looking through his friends Snap stories. It's all different pictures and point of views of happy faces and the soccer game.

Vanessa hums, looking over his shoulder and working away at her own ice cream. She swallows, then, "Hows your leg?"

Gregory frowns, looking at it. "Fine." He says, but he knows he should give Vanessa a better answer. "Okay, its... its healing good. I try to keep still, but it's hard. Especially because its itching all the time."

"...It doesn't hurt?" Vanessa asks after a second. Gregory can hear the worry in her tone, even though shes trying to hide it. He doesnt blame her. They'd both had worries about its severity when it had still been fresh.

An image of the bloody mess the wound had first been when he got it flashes in his mind, and he shoves it down just as quick. "No." He tells her honestly. "I mean. Besides the sore part... it seems fine."

Vanessa deflates ever so slightly next to him. He knows its relief; Its been this way for the past multiple weeks. Probably months by now. She smiles, although her eyes still look tired, and reaches over to lightly ruffle his hair. "That's good." She says. "Means you'll be able to get back to the field pretty soon."

He nods, but his heart must've not been in it, because then Vanessa is scrutinizing him. He keeps looking at his phone, sighing again. His brows furrow, and every time he sees that picture of the whole team, any will he has to get back on the field with his friends is snuffed out as quick as it comes. It's like he has a flame he's desperately kindling to keep alive, and then someone comes over and dumps a bucket of water on it. Its upsetting.

"How are you doing?" She then asks, nudging him.

Gregory jolts slightly, finally putting his phone down. He stares into his bowl of melting ice cream. "Um..."

He trails off, and Vanessa picks it back up. "Would you want to get back on the field if you could right now?"

Gregory gets taken off guard, gaping at Vanessa for a moment. She hit the nail right on the head. He shouldn't be suprised, at this point. She knows him better than himself, and same with him to her.

He sighs. "...No."

Gregory isnt looking at Vanessa, but can hear her spoon scraping against her bowl. "Why not?"

Gregory doesn't respond right away, just thinking about everything. "It--" He cuts himself off. "I... I'm not feeling it."

Vanessa doesn't respond, so Gregory keeps going. "What happened... it was really bad." He says. "Even if I didn't have this stupid injury, I dont think I'd just be able to..."

"To keep going with life like nothing happened?" Vanessa finishes for him. "I get it, Gregory. Okay? It was just like that for me when I was first freed."

A small bit of pride swells inside Gregory at hearing Vanessa able to talk about it so easily. She doesnt even stutter anymore. It's still not as easy for him. He looks over at her. "It was?"

She nods. "You and Freddy had time to adjust and process. But I..." She trails off, looking like shes remembering every bit. "I just had to keep going so I could make us money. I had to go back to work pretty quickly, and I just... wasnt ready for a routine yet."

Gregory frowns, fidgeting with the strap of his watch. "That sucks."

Vanessa nods. "Yeah." She agrees. "What you went through, Gregory... it's not just something you can brush past."

Gregory sighs through his nose, resignation souring his insides. Against his will, he feels his eyes burn. He thought he was done with this whole getting traumatized and healing stuff. He just wants it to be over. "...I know."

"What I mean is that it's okay to take some time." Vanessa tells him, setting a hand on his arm. "You may not want to, but forcing yourself is even worse than taking time away." She says. "Processing something enough to move past it takes time."

Gregory nods wordlessly, remembering going through regaining his memories on top of dealing with the Pizzaplex. It was awful. He'd just managed to get himself to reconsider hobbies he'd barely remembered having before everything Rab came rushing back, and then he hadn't wanted to anymore, having a whole new can of worms to deal with. A worse one.

He furrows his brows, his shoulders drooping. He doesn't want to do that again. Everything was going so good. He thought they'd finally moved past it.

And then that thing had to rear its ugly head, and Gregory had to use himself as bait just to trap it in a dark hole in the basement.

His leg twitches involuntarily, and he winces at how bad it really is. He forgets it, sometimes. How even though its healing, there'd been worries of lasting damage. How Gregory had just made friends and used his talents of running and fighting to his advantage to join a sport (which eased his worried of falling out of practice as well) and that could have been fully ripped away if his leg decided to heal wrong. (He wouldnt be able to run away anymore.)

How it wasnt an easy wound to explain to the hospital. How it had been made by an eight foot tall monster with big claws and a grudge against him who'd managed to reach a bit too far into a vent a bit too long, too long for Gregory to make it out. How it'd been all his worst nightmares and the cause of everything horrible that's ever happened to him and his family in one big package with a pretty bow and it had bored into him with its red eyes and its limbs had been too long and it'd gotten ahold of his leg and dug its claws into his flesh and ripped and he was sure he was going to die--

He snaps out of it, just barely managing to realize he was spiraling before it happened. He breaths slowly, realizing it had started to get erratic. He fidgets with his watch strap, keeping his gaze away from Vanessa.

Vanessa saw. She clearly did, or she wouldn't be looking at him all worried like she is right now. She doesnt need to say anything. He knows that what just happened alone is proof that he needs to take time off to process. No matter how miserable it makes him that this is happening again when he'd just wanted to finally move on--

His body jerks, and to his horror, he can feel his throat close up and his eyes burn. He frowns deeply, trying to wipe at his face before any tears can fall. It's stupid. It's all stupid.

But before he can shove it completely down, Vanessa puts hers and his bowl onto his nightstand, and shifts her body. "None of that." She tells him, soft as silk. Before he can react, shes carefully gathering him in her arms in a hug.

Gregory tries really hard to not let that be the water that breaks the dam. He stubbornly, even though he doesnt move away from the hug, tries to keep the tears from spilling.

But eventually, it comes out.

He cries silently; that's always how it's been, but not motionlessly. His shoulders shake and jerk as tears slip past his eyelashes, and he hugs Vanessa back.

"I know it sucks." Vanessa tells him, not trying to baby him or shush him, because she knows he hates that. "That you have to keep going through this stuff over and over--" Her own voice gets choked up, and he can hear her swallow. "And I'm-- I'm sorry. But you cant let it get to you."

Gregory sniffs, nodding against her chest. He gets what she means. He cant let it get to him, as in he cant let that thing win. He cant let it ruin all that hes built for himself-- they've built for themselves because it's hard. It was hard before. It was really, really hard. Knowing that he killed all those people. That his parents are dead and his whole life was destroyed and his friend that he'd had to watch bond with not-him got killed thinking he was betrayed.

But he got past it. He got better and healed and was able to code without curling up into a ball and hyperventilating, and draw the nightmares he had to process them. It had taken time, but he was better.

He snakes an arm back to wipe at his eyes. This? Compared to Rab? This is nothing. That thing with its glowing eyes and its claws and its tunnel deep gashes in his leg that almost ruined something great in his life is nothing--

Okay, so maybe it isnt nothing. But its nothing he cant handle. Hes nothing if not stubborn, and he isnt going to let that thing take away something else. Scars or not.

"Thanks." Gregory mumbles into Vanessa's shirt. "I needed that."

"You'll get back onto the field someday." Vanessa tells him, a hand in his hair. "And your friends are gonna dogpile you when you return and you'll be able to run and score as many goals as you want."

Gregory nods, squeezing her tighter. "I'll just have to make tons of robots in robotics for now."

Vanessa chuckles, ruffling his hair. "Yeah, kid." She says. "Go on and pick up a fourth talent while you're at it, dont you."

The tears stop falling, and the tracks dry on his cheeks as he pushes against the hug, shoving at Vanessa playfully. "Its not my fault you're talentless. Don't be jealous."

She pushes back at him, careful of his healing lower half, a grin on her face. "Says the boy currently under the blanket I hand sewed for him."

Gregory laughs, shoving and pulling and pushing at Vanessa, and her back. He may not feel one hundred percent right now, but who knows how fast itll take him to heal. Theres nothing saying he wont be ready by the time his leg heals. Maybe he'll reach a new record.

Almost taking no effort, he shoves down the reminder of high scores and records being associated with Rab immediately. Even quicker, he moves past it.

ao3 link

[2-guns-b1tch]

Midnight Visitor

Rating: Explicit +18

Pairing: BTAA! Scarecrow x F!Reader

I really wanted to write something about the Scarecrow from the Audio Adventures. I love his voice and his mannerisms so much. Sorry if this a little OOC, i think i wasn't able to portray him exactly right, but I hope you like this and let me now if I forgot to mention a trigger warning.

Ao3

+18 Minors DNI!!! Fear Play, Mildly Dubious Consent, Breathplay if you squint, Vaginal Sex.

The waiting room is practically empty when you come in. The only person in there is Miss Gold and she seems to be getting ready to leave for her lunch break.

"Hello, Miss Gold," your voice breaks the silence, making her jump on her chair.

Miss Gold snaps her head in your direction, laughing softly with a hand on her chest when she realizes is actually you.

"Oh, hello, Mrs. Crane. I was sou caught that you startled me."

Miss Gold has been Jonathan's secretary for almost two years. She was a little shorter than you, wearing high heels to make up for the missing inches. Her round, rosy cheeks reminded you of a peach, matching her plumper silhouette. Her clothes were often pastel and soft, which made her stand out in the dull environment of the clinic.

Although Miss Gold was sweet and helpful, she always had this nervous expression on her face, looking like she was on the verge of an anxiety attack constantly. You needed to have a conversation with Jonathan to find out what kind of pressure he was putting on the poor secretary.

"I'm sorry. It wasn't my intention to sneak in like this," you say, approaching her table. "I came to bring Jonathan's lunch. Is he here?"

Miss Gold nods, "Yes, he is, dear. Would you like me to let him know you're here?"

"You don't have to, thank you. Go enjoy your lunch, Miss Gold. I will take care of the doctor now.”

You say goodbye before she leaves and you knock on Jonathan's door, his voice on the other end signaling you to come in.

"What's so important, Miss-" Jonathan lifts his head towards you, the annoyed expression on his face being washed away when he lays his eyes on you, a small smile forming on the corners of his lips.

You can't help but shiver as you walk over to his desk. The old, dark furniture gave the room a gloomy air, the dim lights creating strange shadows. But what made you feel more uneasy were the old Argus Studios posters hanging on the walls. Basil Karlo's wicked gaze followed you wherever you went.

You try to shake off that feeling when Jonathan gets up and meets you halfway.

"What do I owe the pleasure of your honorable presence?" he asks, raising an eyebrow.

You pull him by his orange tie – the same one you had gifted him last Christmas – until he was at your level and you could kiss him on the cheek.

"You forgot that at home, so I thought I'd stop by to deliver it to you," you lift the lunchbox, handing it to him.

He slaps a hand on his forehead, giving a breathy chuckle as he shakes his head. "What would I do without my dear wife?"

"You would probably end up forgetting your head somewhere," you pat him at the shoulder before sitting down on the therapy couch.

Jonathan just nods, sitting next to him. He opens the package, admiring for a few seconds what you had packed before he started eating.

You watch him finish the salad in just a few bites and then stuff his mouth full of spaghetti. He licks his lips, letting out a few moans of delight between bites.

"Good to know you still like my food," you comment out Loud.

"How could I not? That was one of the main reasons I married you."

You try to look offended by giving him a weak slap on the arm, but you can't hide your smile when he starts laughing.

"You're terrible!"

"You can't go back now. Until death do us part, remember?" he shrugs as if there's nothing you can do. “Besides, we both know you’re crazy about me."

You roll your eyes at him, but your fingers troke your wedding ring, a warm sensation spreading across your chest.

"You look hungry. What would you have eaten if I hadn’t brought your lunch?"

He shrugs as he finishes chewing. "I probably would have asked Miss Gold to buy me something. Don't worry."

But it was impossible not to worry. In these last months, Jonathan left early in the morning and returned only late at night. He said he was too busy at the office and that you shouldn't wait for him awake. Even then you always woke up when he arrived home and helped him take off his clothes, only being able to talk for a few minutes until he fell asleep exhausted.

Of course you were grateful for the comfortable life his jobs provided, and you were very proud of his career as a doctor and professor, but you didn't want him to work until he killed himself.

You run your fingers through his hair, brushing a few strands off his forehead. He definitely needed a cut. On top of that, he looked even thinner and the dark circles under his eyes were getting bigger. But even after all these years together, he was still the man of your dreams. A little mean and weird, but you didn't want it any other way.

Jonathan stares at you, his gaze as warm and loving as ever. But at the same time it seemed so far away, as if he wasn't really there.

"Today they're going to reprise some classic horror movies. What do you think? You, me, a bucket of popcorn?" you propose.

"I'm sorry, dear. Not today. I have some tests that I need to go through and-" Jonathan begins to explain himself, but you interrupt him.

"It's okay, you have work to do. I get it.”

You bite your tongue, hating how angry you sound. You didn't want to take your frustrations out on him, but you missed Jonathan so much. You missed dancing with him as he hummed some silly music he made up. To watch the classic horror movies he loved so much. To simply be able to talk to him without Jonathan falling asleep in the middle of a sentence. And you missed the sex, too.

Jonathan was still affectionate, of course, but the caresses and touches boiled down to a quick kiss before he left or a hug when he arrived. Nothing more than that. Now, Jonathan left a void around the house, like a ghost walking in the halls.

He places the lunch box on the coffe table, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "You're upset, I understand.”

You move your gaze to your lap. "I'm not upset. I'm just... tired. I’ve barely seen you these last few days."

He puts his hand over yours, his skin feeling cold against your own.

"I know these past months have been difficult. But I'll make it up to you," he strokes your cheek, tilting your chin to look into your eyes. "I promise."

You really want to believe him, but a part of you suspects that these are empty promises. This behavior will keep repeating itself and you will keep forgiving him, until eventually you drift further apart.

A paranoid little voice in the back of your mind suggests a hypothesis for Jonathan's absence and you hate yourself for thinking about something like that. What if he was cheating on you? What if all this distance over the past few months was actually someone between you.

Jonathan wasn't that kind of man, but the voice kept repeating. What if? What if he had grown tired of you? What if that person was more beautiful? Or more interesting? What if they made him happier than you?

The idea makes your stomach turn and you swallow dry. You pull your hand from his grip, getting up from the couch.

"I should go," you say as you put the lunchboxes back in the bag. "After all, you have a lot of work to do."

You feel numb as Jonathan follow you to the door, barely feeling the goodbye kiss he places on your forehead.

You wish you had walked out of the office hoping that things would get better or at least satisfied that this is just a temporary crisis that all couples have to face at some point.

Instead, doubt and a feeling of distress accompany you all the way home.

——

You stir awake, being pulled slowly from your dreams. Everything seems hazy and fuzzy as you run you fingers over Jonathan’s bedside, but you only find his side cold and empty. You sigh in frustration, letting your head sink against the pillow again. You should be used to it by now.

The alarm on your bedside table signals that it's past midnight, the numbers on the digital clock flashing through the darkness of the room. You snuggle under the covers again, almost forgetting what woke you up in the first place. Sleep is so tempting and you start to drift off.

But an insistent sound keeps you awake. You stare at the ceiling, your eyes getting used to the darkness as you begin to make out what exactly the noise was.

Steps. Someone was walking around the apartment.

You pull the sheets, the sole of your foot meeting the cold floor. You try not to assume the worst as you get out of bed. Maybe it was just Jonathan coming home from work.

You step into the hallway, turning on the switch, but the light bulb flickers a few time before the shadows envelop you once more. You sigh, cursing yourself silently. The hallway light wasn’t working properly and you were supposed to change it weeks ago.

You walk slowly with your arms extended in front of your body so you don’t bump into anything until you can reach the bathroom door. You turn the lights on and a momentary feeling of safety rushes over you. Everything looks okay in the bathroom, so you decide to let the lights on and the door open to let a little bit o the light illuminate the hallway.

After that you go to check the living room and the kitchen. Your thin nightgown isn't enough to keep you warm on that cold night and you hug yourself, a shiver running through your skin.

You finally go to the front door to test the handle. To your relief, is locked and the bolt was in place. Even though you lived in a safe neighborhood you still had your fears, after all, Gotham is Gotham. You can never be too sure.

Maybe it was just a dream? You wonder for a second until you notice the light in Jonathan's office leaking through the small crack in the door. As you get closer, the sound of mumbling and papers being flipped through becomes more noticeable. Jonathan was really incorrigible. After hours at his office, he brought even more work home.

"Jon, you should go to bed," you stop in front of the door, rubbing your eyes until they get used to the brightness of the room.

You had the clear image of Jonathan in your head. He'd be sitting behind his desk with a tired expression on his face, pen hanging loose in his hand while he is finishing giving grades fos his students’ tests. You would whisper in a sweet tone and stroke his hair until he agreed to follow you back to bed.

Instead, your heart sinks as your eyes fall on the stranger leaning over Jonathan's desk, papers scattered everywhere. He was tall and thin, wearing a brown suit. His face was covered by a patched mask, a rope around his neck.

You've heard and read countless stories about him, but you never expected that one day you'd come face to face with the Scarecrow.

Sleep is a distant thing now. The adrenaline coursing through your veins makes your whole body tense, your feet stuck on the ground. Your instincts scream at you to run, fight, do anything, but the idea of moving seems impossible. All you can do is watch transfixed as Scarecrow stares at you from across the room, a heavy, suffocating silence forming between the two of you.

For some reason he seems as surprised as you do, as if he didn't expect someone to show up.

He walks around the table with slow steps, his hands raised in the air. "Hush. I didn't come here to hurt you," he sounds calm and... strangely familiar. But the grim smile sewn into his mask doesn't help to reassure you.

This is like a nightmare. The kind where you stay in the same place while running, unable to distance yourself from the monster that chases you, no matter how hard you try. But now, the monster wouldn't disappear when you opened your eyes. No matter how much you blink, he's still there.

He's only a few inches away, his hand almost touching your arm, when your feet finally work again and you run out of the room, heading towards the kitchen.

You can hear the Scarecrow right behind you through the rapid beating of your heart, his footsteps reverberating against the hardwood floor, but you don't dare look back.

Your first extinct is to open one of the drawers to grab the biggest knife you can find. You turn just in time to see the Scarecrow standing in the kitchen doorway, your trembling hands gripping the handle of the knife as you point the blade at him. The shadows cast strange shapes on his face, making the smile on his mask seem even bigger. For a moment he looks like one of the monsters from Jonathan's movies.

"Don't come closer!" you scream.

He ignores your order, taking one step toward you and then another. Approaching in the same careful manner that a predator approaches its prey.

You swallow, your wobbly legs seeming to be unable to bear your own weight. "If you come any closer I-I... I'm going to hurt you."

He pauses for a moment, tilting his head as he studies you. "Let's not get ahead of ourselves ma’am. You don't want to make any rash decisions."

"Stay away from me! My husband is going to arrive any moment and he's going to-"

The Scarecrow throws his head back in a cruel laugh that sends a shiver down your spine, as if you've said something stupid.

"Look at you, trying to rationalize with fear. So brave," he shakes his head, approaching again.

With every step he takes, you take another step back in a futile attempt to increase the distance between you. You keep retreating until you're backed against the kitchen counter and that's when it lunges at you. He slaps your hand, throwing your knife across the room.

You try to scream, but he presses his hand over your mouth to muffle your cries for help. You flinch at the sensation of the cold leather of his gloves on your skin, his fingers sinking into the flesh of your arm.

You're like a deer at headlights, too scared to fight for your survival. He was so close now, you could see his eyes through the holes in the mask, deep brown circles staring back at you. His pupils were dilated, he was enjoying it.

To your horror, he presses his face against your neck. He inhales deeply against your skin, letting out a satisfied hum. The hair on the back of your neck stands up and you shiver against his grip.

"You’re afraid, aren’t you? You’re afraid, and it’s delicious,” he whispers close to your ear, his voice becoming dark and low as he takes a sharp inhale. "Mmm. You fear is so sweet, I can almost taste it on my tongue. Oh, darling. You're terrified," he laughs hoarsely.

You close your eyes so tightly that you can see little white spots. The whole world seems to spin and you feel dizzy. Would he drug you with the fear gas that all the news have been talking about? Or maybe force you to swallow some of the drugs he makes that look like Halloween candy? You can only think of Jonathan coming home to find your lifeless body lying on the kitchen floor.

The sob you let out goes almost unnoticed and you think he'll just ignore you, but the Scarecrow leans back, your eyes meeting as tears roll down your face.

"Shhh. No crying. Those aren't the kind of tears I want from you," he says in a soft, almost soothing tone as he strokes your hair. "I'll let you talk now, but don't scream. Got it?"

You nod as best you can and he finally pulls his hand off of you. Your tongue feels heavy inside your mouth when you try to speak.

"Wha... What are you going to do with me?" you ask.

"I'm still deciding," he shrugs.

"I don't have anything you want."

"Maybe I don't want something you have. Maybe I want you to do something for me. Have you thought about that?"

His words take a second to fully hit you. You wish you had misunderstood, but it was impossible not to notice the way he looked at you, how his eyes traveled up and down your body. Your breath gets caught in your throat and you shake your head.

"Please don't. I... I have a husband and he-"

Scarecrow interrupts you with a loud sigh. "You keep talking about your husband, but where is he?"

You open your mouth to answer him, but close it right away, pressing your lips into a thin line. You didn't know where Jonathan really was. Maybe he wasn't even in the office. What if he had lied to you?

He continues in a low tone, as if he's telling you a secret. "What kind of husband leaves his wife like that? So lonely. So vulnerable," one of his hands goes down slowly to caress the bare flesh of your thigh while the other grips your waist. You are startled by the feeling of his hands on you, how his touch is surprisingly slow and sensual. You find yourself thinking about Jonathan for a second before remembering that he's not the one touching you.

"Were you waiting for him? That's why you're wearing this nightgown? How lovely," his laugh makes your cheeks heat up. "Lucky me."

He drags his hand up your stomach, running along your sides, teases one of your breasts until your nipple is a stiffen bud underneath your nightgown. You try to look distant on the outside, but it’s impossible to deny the wetness forming between your legs. You bite the inside of your cheek hard enough to hold in any noises.

You don't want that. You don't want his hands on you. You don't want his body against yours. But you can't remember the last time you felt wanted. It's been so long since you and Jonathan had sex. You're so tired of feeling alone.

Even with these ideas running through your head, you place a hand against his chest, opening up a bit of space between the two of you.

"No. That's not right," you say, "I don't... I don't want this."

"Oh, don't be like that," he whispers, rubbing his face against you neck. "That could be our little secret. I'm not going to tell anyone. I promise."

The air is drawn out of your lungs, as if you've been punched in the stomach. You turn your head slowly, the words stuck in your throat.

"Jonathan?" you mutter.

His body tenses suddenly, and he tilts his head back, staring at you wide-eyed, like a child who just got caught with his hand inside the cookie jar. How could you not have noticed before? Maybe it was fear confusing your senses, but all the signs were there. The same tall, slender silhouette, the long limbs, the deep brown eyes. The same voice. The same laugh.

He breaks the silence with a low laugh, shaking his head.

"I knew I couldn't fool your forever. You always have been so smart."

He lifts the mask slowly, revealing every bit of his face. The face you knew so well. Jonathan's face.

A million questions cross your mind, but before you can say anything Jonathan presses you against the counter again, capturing your lips.

You gasp and throw a fist into his chest, pressing your teeth against his bottom lip, biting hard enough to hurt, but this jusy makes Jonathan growls like a mad dog. His hands run all over your body, not knowing where to stop. He tugs at your nightgown, the cold air sending shivers through your skin as he grabs and squeezes every bit of flesh he can reach.

The kiss is demanding and sloppy, his hot tongue trailing across your lips and invading your mouth. All you can do is hold on to Jonathan as if your life depended on it, making him grunt as your nails sink into his covered back.

There's something familiar about how your bodies move in sync. A sensual dance that the two of you had done thousands of times before. But now there's a hunger behind Jonathan's movements, something possessive, as if he won’t let you escape. Maybe you were as hungry as he was.

The next moment your world changes perspective as Jonathan turns you around, lowering you down onto the kitchen counter until your cheek is pressed against the cold surface. You moan softly as he lifts the thin material of your nightgown, his mouth leaving warm kiss on the skin of your back.

He pulls your panties down, kicking your legs apart. You were practically naked, while Jonathan was fully clothed, having only taken off his mask and gloves. You feel so exposed, nothing to hide yourself while Jonathan stares at you laid bare before him.

You can hear him shuffling behind you, undoing his own belt and pants in a hurry. You turn your head just in time to see him approaching, his flushed cock pressing against your pussy, making you both grunt together. You don't even care if it hurts, all you want is Jonathan inside you. Filling you completely. Fuck, you want him so bad.

He gathers some of your wetness, his dick sliding in between your folds in slow movements. You moan softly when the tip catches on your clit, the sweet sensation making you buckle your hips towards him.

"Jonny..." you whine, "Please."

Jonathan laughs in a mocking tone, but you know he's not in the mood for teasing either.

You’re wet enough so there is no resistance as he presses intou you, your walls stretching to accommodate his cock. Jonathan moves slowly, leaving you’re both panting when he’s fully inside you. The pain and the pleasure mix deliciously, you missed him so much.

The first thrust takes the air out of your lungs. The second makes your legs tremble. The third makes your back arch and a sweet sound leave your lips. He keeps rutting against you, slow and deep. The wet sound of your bodies combined and your moans reverberate through the walls.

"You're the perfect victim, you know?" he says in between grunts, "You're so beautiful when you're scared. Oh, and when you started running – Fuck... I almost lost my mind. I wanted to take you right there on the floor."

You clench around him, driving him even deeper into you. Jonathan realizes the effect his words have on you, giving you a breathless chuckle.

"Did you like that? Do you like the idea of a maniac fucking you?"

The idea shouldn't be so tempting, but you can't stop thinking about Jonathan hiding in the shadows, waiting for the perfect moment to reveal himself and pull you into the darkness with him, where he could do whatever he wanted to you.

You nod weakly and he grips you tighter, his nails leaving half-moon marks on the soft skin of your waist.  His pace is brutal now, your body moving everytime his hips hits your backside.

"Next time... Hah... I'll give you some of the toxin, just enough to keep you on the edge and a little scared," he takes a sharp breath, throwing his head back, "And then... I'm going to put on my mask and I'm going to fuck you until you beg me to stop."

You open your mouth, but you can’t form words to save your life, so you reach out behind you

to something to hold until your fingers find the rope around Jonathan’s neck and you pull him towards you. He lets out a surprised sound, turning into a sinful moan. His chest is against your back, his chin resting on your shoulder.

It’s good. It’s so fucking good. You can’t believe you almost forgot how good it was to have him inside you. You make a silent promise to never let him leave again.

One of his hands moves around your body, his fingers meeting your throbbing clit. He makes quick circles around it, pinching and pressing on it hard. For a moment it all seems too much and not enough at the same time. His cock moving inside you, the pressure on your clit. It was overwhelming in the best kind of way.

With your cheek pressed against the counter and tears streaming down your face, you can feel your orgasm approaching. Behind you, Jonathan's movements get more and more out of rhythm and you know he's not that far away either.

He keeps one hand in between your legs while the other lays flat on your mid section, pulling you close to him, your bodies still glued together.

"Tell me -Ah... Tell me who I am,” he mumbles, cheek nuzzled in your temple. “Tell me what I am,” almost sound like he is begging and you could never say no to him.

"Scarecrow!" the word leaves your lips before you know it. "You're the Scarecrow."

"Yes! That’s right! That’s right, good girl. My good girl,” his praise goes straight to your pussy and you squeeze him impossibly tight.

You throw your head back, stretching your neck until you can kiss him. It’s all teeth and tongue while he keeps moving inside you with shallow thrusts.

Your orgasm hits you so hard that almost hurts. The knot in your lower belly finally snaps and the wave of carnal bliss washes over your. Jonathan comes right after you. He curses between clenched teeth, his hips curling, his breath hot on your skin as he fills your cunt with hot wads of cum.

 You both breathe heavily in the middle of the kitchen, your sweaty bodies intertwined perfectly. Thank God he is holding you, because you barely can feel your legs and if it weren’t for him you know you would be on the floor by this point.

Jonathan snuggles up against your neck, murmuring something sweet, but your mind is too hazy now to hear him. You bring a hand up to his head, stroking his hair.

As you come down from you high, reality finally hits you. One of Gotham's most wanted criminals just came inside you and now he's cuddling you. Oh, and coincidentally, he's your husband... Fuck.

[zeldasgard]

Why I was frequently gone

As you might have noticed I am not as frequently active as I once was when starting posting my art online a while back. I have never stopped drawing though, just I never posted some things or posted them way later. The reason behind it was fear.

The thing is… despite claiming since forever that I don’t care anymore what people think of me and that it’s been a while I have grown past that… deep down, I do.

The truth is that it is my love for a fictional character that started my art journey. Yes guys, it is Vaati that made me pick up the pencil. I feel like this is shamed a lot, when truly anything is good to get you started on your own path. This is also why my « yumeship » or whichever you wish to call it (I am myself not fond of labels, I only find a use for them to find like minded people and even so a lot of luck is needed because of how misused some are) is so important to me and a part of who I am. This is also why I keep drawing Vaati over and over. It is what got me started but also what keeps me going. And it goes well beyond Vaati. The Minish Cap was my first Zelda game and what re-introduced my depressed self to the fantasy genre, which led to important choices in my real life.

I am still deeply scarred by some things I have been put through because of false assumptions about my character because of my love for him and reduced to a flat, one dimensional image of "if she is like xxx/, isn't comfortable with xxx then she must be yyy!!!". I have been bullied for it on social media a little while ago and deeply wounded. I am scared now that anyone getting too close to me would judge me or hurt me again for something that is… harmless. Many times I do want to show more of my person and interests but those bad experiences made me very anxious about social media and personal one on one online interactions. One big issue with social media, and not only for the topic of “loving a fictional character” is that it is so easy to judge or assume who someone is based on their feed or one façade that they decide to show about themselves. We tend to forget that there are full complex living beings behind usernames, with way more going on in their lives than the breadcrumbs of it that they post on social media. No, I am not "delulu" about Vaati, yes I have a social life and I even have so many hobbies that it would be too long to list them all. I could yap all day about metal music, Tolkien's Legendarium, astrophysics... But this is not what most here follow me for.

There are some times when I want to rebrand, forget and leave everything behind. But that would be making choices motivated by fear and I do not want that for me anymore. Not everyone out there is an unstable bully after all.

This post already went far beyond what I originally intended it to. I originally wanted to share what I had learnt, what I am learning in order to make my artworks, my inspirations and all that, but clearly some things go way beyond art itself. Also to address my social media anxiety because of the experiences I mention here, and I fear that I couldn’t do that without giving all this larger context.

I now hope that with these small tickets that I plan on sharing (although this one isn’t but shhhh), I can slowly gain back some trust in social media and humankind in general and actually take pleasure again in sharing my art with you all. I actually like Tumblr as a platform and honestly I cannot wait to post all these artworks I have been holding back on.

Peace ☮️

[thistransient]

Halfway through July, and I have neglected to write my yearly birthday introspection, although it did occur to me that between my birthday and the new year I was in fact doing two introspections a year anyways.

For certain reasons I've been waffling about it, but it's also quite nice to be able to look back and compare with the previous year, to see what's changed (sometimes unexpectedly) and what's still the same. Last year I mentioned I "made a close friend [...] and disentangled myself from a draining relationship", but in the end I had been drawn to said friend because he was the polar opposite of the person I was disentangling myself from, and while a different extreme might have been refreshing in the moment, that too was unsustainable in the long run. I think what finally dragged me out of the cycle of too-clingy/too-distant nebulous just-friends-but-what-if sort of relationships was twofold: I started going to counselling with a goal (not the usual "I feel like I'm having a breakdown so I'll see a therapist for 3-6 months before ditching"), and also got into a communal hobby such that I was able to make casual friends and attend regular and diverse events with a time limit (rather than laser focusing on one person and relying on them for all my socialising).

A year ago I said I was feeling adrift, goal-less, and filled with the sort of summer malaise inspired by the scorching Taipei weather this time of year. Unfortunately we are still rather scorched. The temperature and UV levels somewhat put a damper on my usual practice of walking around outside looking at things. On the positive side, I did struggle through the adrift-ness and applied for one (1) grad school program over the winter, which I didn't get into but I did learn that I feel better when I'm working on something, and I was also motivated to finally take Taiwan's Chinese proficiency exam to open up my options for the sort of programs I could try for in the future (I passed a level higher than I expected to, and it was great to feel acknowledgment of my competence at something I'd really put long-term effort into). After the grad school rejection I started planning the trip to Ladakh, which allllmost felt like it involved a similar level of paperwork and fuss- and actually pulling that off in the end (ok, even tho this was after my birthday) despite all my fears and anxiety (particularly around travelling post-transition) was also a great confidence boost. (For a week after I also had this frantic urge to drastically change my life, and I can't tell if it wore off with time or if the heat simply drained out all ambition beyond staying out of the sun and sitting in front of the fan eating cold dragonfruits.)

I have at least two proper goals now, and although one may require starting over entirely from an educational standpoint, as they say, "the time will pass anyways". On my bike rides at night I do tend to start pondering what shall become of me, creeping along in the years but being no closer to permanent or even temporary residency status than any other time I write about it either wistfully or with well-intentioned but otherwise ultimately futile determination, nor feeling like I am useful for any sort of capitalist pursuits. (I suppose this is the part of reflection wherein things have stayed the same, and we must stay tuned for next year.) But I also believe I have made some progress in deflating a little the omnipresent catholic guilt at simply existing, not to mention the adjacent notion that enjoying life a bit and not being maximally miserable at all times is a SIN. By this I mean I have gone twice now to a nice hair salon to let a beautiful woman shampoo, condition, and also give me a haircut that doesn't bear a strong resemblance to a bichon-frise immediately after.

All in all, I would say the verdict is incremental improvement. (Okay maybe I'm also racking up incremental nerve damage from all the shibari but you win some you lose some.) My housing/employment/visa-running status hasn't changed dramatically but I feel more hopeful and kinder with myself. I think my Chinese reading speed has kicked up a notch. I've managed to keep the instant noodle consumption under control. I've sent a lot of postcards on my quarterly trips, which are generally well-received. I have taken great delight in growing many plants in the window cage (whether they survive is another thing, RIP to the tomato plants while I was away, bravo to the basil that miraculously rehydrated from what seemed to be a completely unsalvageable state, sorry to the lemon tree sprout that was apparently doing fine on its own before I came back and over-watered it to death). Things feel kinda okay, and I used to be quite suspicious of this because surely they were only going to get worse again, but these days I figure hey, even so, might as well enjoy it while it lasts.

[sunny-haven]

My experiences with being hypnotized and why I'm trying out self hypnosis

Ever since getting into hypnosis, I've always wanted to be hypnotized but throughout the years that I've been into it, I can count on one hand the amount of files that have actually put me under. Even doing live sessions with other hypnotists didn't really do that much for me, though they were always beginner hypnotists and/or ones I had taught myself. Because of this, I had believed that for me to go under, I would need an experienced hypnotist that I know and trust well, and even then, it would likely take several sessions to go anywhere due to my ADHD (which made it extremely hard for me to focus during a hypnosis session). And because for the longest time, I didn't really know any hypnotists I knew and trusted well and who I wanted to hypnotize me, that belief was left unchanged for years.

The deepest anyone had put me under was my headmate Rayx, we had to do it via text. The constant switching and doing it over text prevented me from going that deep but it was more effective than anything I had ever experienced, although those two or three sessions were so long ago that my memory is fuzzy other than he got to make me chant a mantra, haha. Nowadays though, I'm not interested in Rayx putting me under and I don't think he's interested either.

In 2019, when I was still living with my family and we all stayed in one room, I finally attempted self hypnosis, and the easiest method I found was creating a hypnosis file specifically for myself. I had to be very quiet and had to wait to have the room for myself. It was mostly focused on general relaxation, more aimless than usual when I'm hypnotizing someone. Then, when I was able to have a moment to relax by myself, I laid in bed and listened to the file. None of the suggestions stuck, but it was the most relaxed I had ever been in my entire life.

I then recorded another file, one focused on helping me overcome my anxiety from phone calls (one that I still have to this day, and is currently making me procrastinate from making an important call). For whatever reason though, I avoided listening to this one, despite Rayx's insistence, and stopped making self hypnosis files for myself. I still wanted to be hypnotized and would sometimes complain about how I wished I was easier to hypnotize and that I wished that I knew someone who was experienced with hypnosis, and Rayx would always tell me that I could still go back to doing self hypnosis files since the first one worked so well, especially because I lived on my own and making them would be way easier. And for whatever reason, I wouldn't, and wouldn't have an answer for him.

Fast forward to about five years later, and being in @/nocturnowlette's community has surrounded me with several experienced hypnotists (as well as Owlette herself). It took me a long while to get around to trying out one of Owlette's files, mostly because they were either about things I wasn't interested in or I just felt like wouldn't work as someone who was inexperienced with being hypnotized. And I hadn't had the courage to ask someone to try to put me under, especially because those who I was interested in I had already hypnotized several times and I felt like some part of my brain would have a hard time submitting to them as a result (which has happened before). But then Owlette one day released a file that was supposed to be for those who struggled going under and was supposed to make it easier for them, which peaked my interest. Eventually, I decided to make myself comfortable and give the file a listen. I'll go over what happened in a moment.

Since joining Owlette's community, a deep-rooted fear of mine had been cracked wide open, one I had never even realized was there and something I still struggle to put into words. I had discovered that I had a fear of loss of control. And what "loss" and "control" mean are very nebulous in my head, but essentially when it comes to hypnosis, I want to feel like the one in control. Oftentimes that means being the hypnotist and the dom, but in other scenarios (like with one couple I'm friends with), it could mean that two people have a hypnosis relationship, but they still happily submit to me and I can mess with them easily. Maybe someone is hypnotizing a group of others, but I'm still hypnotizing the tist as well as everyone else if I want to. And this want applies to both in and out of sessions. So if I would see two people who I had hypnotized before enjoying a hypnosis session without anything to do with me, I would feel like I'm "losing control". If I was listening to someone do a public session and I have no part in it and am just a spectator, I feel like I'm "losing control". And a myriad of other things I've found can trigger this, ranging from making me mildly uncomfortable to severely, even making me break down into tears at times, even though consciously I'm trying to be happy for my friends.

I really fucking hate it. I'm currently attempting to work on this, but this was and is a thing I'm dealing with. One philosophy I used to have was simple exposure therapy, telling others to just carry on and do what they're gonna do so I can expose myself more to situations where I "lose control" so my brain can understand it's okay. Whether or not it's helping, I'm not entirely sure. But since discovering this and looking for ways to help, I had gotten the idea that hypnotizing myself and showing my subconscious mind that it was okay would probably help a lot, especially in a community who had been very focused on safety and pretalk. I decided that Owlette would probably be good, since they're a very skilled hypnotist and we already had a good hypnosis relationship in the past, and she had already mentioned several times before she was interested in putting me under. Before actually talking with her about it though, I figured I'd listen to one of her files to see what it'd be like, which was perfect when she dropped her more beginner-friendly file.

So with all that in mind, I listened to the file and it was... well... I won't go into detail, as it is not an experience I want to think about for long, but it ended up being the worst experience I've ever had with a file. And I don't mean it simply didn't work, I mean that it was genuinely painful. This isn't at all a slant to Owlette, the actual contents of the file were good and it wasn't that different from any other competent beginner-friendly hypnosis file. This instead was like a massive slap in the face that something was deeply wrong with me and that I needed to work on myself. I dunno why I even listened for long, it felt like I was actively pushing away suggestions at one point. Something in my mind just told me I needed to "see it through" or some bullshit, I don't know why. I have to wonder if my reaction ended up being comparable to a PTSD reaction or something (I am NOT saying I have PTSD btw, I'm just wondering).

Normally when I listen to a hypnosis file in the past (and I actually attempted to listen and be hypnotized), it was always by someone I never knew. That combined with the fact that I know hypnosis files for a general audience - as opposed to one made for a specific person - tend to not work unless the subject listening was particularly suggestible. So from the outset, my mind was already geared towards the file not working on me, no matter how much I tried to keep an open mind. At the same time, my ADHD would go into overdrive. Normally I don't have an easy time focusing on things (and god, I would love to try being medicated but that's unrelated) but it's never that bad, and if I'm particularly invested in something, I can more easily focus or even hyperfocus. But almost as a mental defense to prevent me from being hypnotized, my brain's hyperactivity would flare up a ton and would constantly jump from topic to topic, way more often than it normally does, and it made it virtually impossible to focus on the file for long.

For those who I did trust and let them attempt to hypnotize me, my mind took a different stance. They were inexperienced and sometimes there was even a bit of a language barrier, so my hyperactive mind would focus on tiny details they likely didn't notice and would start constantly mentally critique their methods, what words they said, or even if something was grammatically correct or not.

For this file though, I trust Owlette a lot, and more importantly, they are quite skilled and experienced, and though they've been a hypnotist for less time than me, they are definitely one of the better ones I've seen and are a very experienced subject. That, combined with my newfound knowledge of this fear that had been running in the background for years and years... I suppose it made me feel exposed in a way I never felt before when I listened to the file. The mental defenses were still there, on even more of an overdrive than ever before, but being aware of it all and knowing that Owlette was someone who's experienced and someone who I trust seemingly clashed with whatever the hell is going on deep in my mind.

All this to say, I've given up on attempting to be hypnotized by someone else, at least not until whatever is wrong with me has been solved. Exposure therapy definitely did not help in that instance. But, my mind went back to those self hypnosis files I made before and just how effective they were for me when nothing else really seemed to be. I couldn't really be afraid of losing control if I was the one putting myself under. So earlier this month, I made a self hypnosis file, based on relaxation like before but also trying to slowly get rid of that fear of loss of control. It was a bit aimless like the other self hypnosis files, but that was okay, and editing in sounds of rain while indoors next to a fireplace also helped a bunch. I certainly don't think it can be hypnotized out of me, but I'm hoping that if I keep at it, that fear will fade over time.

And as for that file itself... It again was one of the most comfortable experiences of my life. I honestly don't remember a comfier one, to be honest. And it's hard for me to judge because I'm not at all used to judging to how I respond to hypnosis, but I think I ended up going pretty deep. I nodded along to what I was saying without really thinking. I would imagine myself as my fursona a lot of the time (which is what happened during Owlette's file, though in that instance, it was not at all fun), and it felt like I was drifting off to sleep. In fact, towards the later half of the file, I don't remember any of it - it felt like I had just drifted off to sleep. I didn't even wake up during the awakener, though as soon as the file ended, I started to wake up, then was jolted awake at the realization I didn't even wake up when my voice was counting me up from trance. Like wow. Is that what it's like being hypnotized for you all??? Gosh.

Earlier today, as an attempt to calm myself before making an important call, I decided to listen to the file again. And I pretty much had the exact same experience. The only difference was that my consciousness started becoming aware as the file was waking me up, though I chose to stay in trance until the file ended, then I woke up quickly and easily the moment it ended. And then for whatever reason, I decided to listen to the file a third time while I was still in bed, and though it wasn't as effective, I still had that moment of going deep enough it felt like sleep (and thus I don't know what happened). I woke up from trance as I was saying the number 5, as I thought I was done counting then, lmao.

Needless to say, I'm definitely making more hypnosis files, though I'm unsure of what I should do next. I feel like I should make a file to help with my nervousness for phone calls, though I'm afraid I will not listen to it like I did in 2019. But I'm unsure what else I would do right now, especially since a file like that would definitely be helpful as there's an important call I need to do soon. So I might just make that particular file.

My end goal is to make me see myself as my fursona, as I have done with some people, as that has been my dream with hypnosis for years and years. I have hope now, I realize I'm a more suggestible subject than I thought. I also hope I'll be able to overcome this fear someday, because it's really getting in the way of me being able to be happy for my friends.

[fmoe1997]

Alessio awoke in the middle of the night to the sounds of an argument just beyond his door. He blearily peered over at the clock on his nightstand, its digital face displayed at 3:00 exactly, and groaned. The day before had left him exhausted. So much so he collapsed into bed as soon as he stripped down to his tank top and underwear, his suit left strewn about the floor. He fell into a deep sleep moments after, and hoped to remain that way until morning. But the voices not only persisted, they amplified, and refused to give him peace. Annoyed, and a little curious, he rose from the bed and walked over to his door.

Alessio pressed an ear against it, and the muffled voices came somewhat clearer. Or rather, the one voice. That of his boss, Crimson, and as usual he didn't sound pleased.

"Answer me, Moxxie, how many fuckin' times have I told ya not to disturb me when I'm sleepin'?"

Young Moxxie didn't answer at first, no doubt struggling under his father's confrontational eye. But when he did respond, Alessio had to strain to even hear his timid voice.

"A l- lot."

"Exactly! Too many fuckin' times. Get it through your thick skull already and go back to your room!"

"But dad! The monst-"

"There ain't no stinkin' monsters in your room, you're too old for this crap! Now get goin', or I will give you somethin' to be scared of."

He punctuated his sentence with the slam of his bedroom door and caused even Alessio to jolt from the force. He grumbled to himself before he pressed his ear back to listen out. Shortly after, he heard soft sniffles from Moxxie alone in the hallway and he cast his eyes to the floor.

A part of him wanted to go out there and help him, but mostly he wanted to sleep. This wasn't his place. Crimson no doubt wouldn't want him to assist his son regardless. He had to learn on his own, as he said during that dinner a few days ago. Granted he disobeyed that order but, unlike food, monsters were a figment of his imagination. He would grow out of it, he just had to let him be.

Although he felt he convinced himself of this, as Alessio stood back from the door his hand lingered on its surface for a second longer. When he did turn and take a step towards his bed, a hollow knock echoed from it that brought him to a halt. He should ignore it, he wanted to. But he turned back all the same and quietly opened the door to a teary-eyed Moxxie.

"Is something wrong, Moxx?"

The imp sniffed and bowed his head, unable to meet Alessio's piercing gaze. His tail flopped around a little before it instinctually came into his hands. A nervous tick that had become more frequent as of late, for reasons apparent to the both of them. He shifted his feet awkwardly, unable to get the words out that Alessio overheard before.

His fingers drummed along the crease of the door, before he eventually sighed and squatted down to Moxxie's level. The young imp looked up at him then, and when their eyes met again Alessio put on his best attempt at a smile.

"It's alright, you can tell me."

Moxxie looked back down the hall at the door to his father's room. Alessio could feel the anxiety that radiated off the poor imp. No doubt scared that he might be blamed for waking him up. Not that that wouldn't be entirely incorrect.

Eventually, he faced Alessio again, swallowed his fears, and whispered, "I saw a monster in my room."

Alessio tilted his head somewhat playfully, "Did you now?"

Moxxie nodded, more nervous this time. "Y-yeah! It had long wings, claws, sharp teeth, and... its eyes... they were crossed out!"

The details spilled from his lips rapidly, as if to illustrate how dire the situation was to the shark. He entertained it at first, all the details sounded stereotypical, but that last remark sounded too specific. And very familiar.

His face had grown serious again and he stood up. "Wait here."

Alessio half-walked, half-jogged back to his nightstand, where he pulled out a drawer and fished his gun from inside. Then he marched back to the door, careful of little Moxxie, and nodded to him to follow while they went to his room. Maybe he had fallen for his overactive imagination despite what he told himself, but Alessio had to be sure.

How the hell would the kid know about Exterminators?

He posted up by the door, his mind on attack mode. Moxxie pressed against the wall just behind him and mimicked his pose. Alessio held his gun up with one hand, while his other reached over and gripped the door handle. With a slight twist he unlocked it, then let it swing inward slowly.

His eyes saw the room as clear as daylight, and he took in every inch as the door slowly creaked open. The entire left wall was clear of any intruders. The bed stood still, the covers tossed up from when the imp ran out of the room. Toys sat on the floor haphazardly, but seemingly undisturbed since Moxxie last played with them. More and more of the room got exposed and Alessio felt confident it was nothing more than the kid's fears that got to him.

With the door fully open, he peeked his head in to look towards the closets on the right side. That's when he saw it. In the glow of the dim musical note nightlight by the floor, he saw the monster. At the top of the doorframe, a pair of crossed eyes sat above a smile stretched maliciously across its face. His eyes grew wide at the sight, then immediately narrowed into slits. In that split second, he didn't even think to hesitate.

He gripped the gun in both hands and fired point-blank into that evil grin. The room exploded with light and the home echoed with gunfire, but Alessio didn't relent. Moxxie got lucky enough to escape from that thing, he didn't want to give it a second opportunity. Although he had no idea if these shots would even faze it, it didn't deter him. The safety of Crimson and Moxxie came above all else.

When his gun finally clicked empty, and he saw the face destroyed beyond repair, he finally ceased his assault. Above the slight hum of his eardrums, he heard the soft, shaken breaths of Moxxie behind him. Before he could check on him, however, the door across from them burst open and Crimson came out brandishing his own pistol.

"Alessio?! What in the fuck are shooting my house up for? What's goin' on?" He looked down to find Moxxie by his side, and his already sour expression worsened.

Alessio saw the look in his eye, and answered before he could admonish Moxxie again. "Sir, I saw an Exterminator in his room."

Crimson blinked a couple times, then looked at him as if he had grown two extra heads. "Extermination Day was months ago, Ale. Even then, they stick to Pride. Why the fuck would one be here?"

Alessio knew he asked the question less to understand why one would hypothetically be here, and more to comment on his lack of forethought. Before he could answer him, he heard something fall in Moxxie's room, and his head whipped back to the closet. The face had disappeared, and as he turned his eyes to the ground he found it had fallen to the floor.

Curious, he stepped in and walked over to it. He reached down with his empty hand and picked it up, then turned it around to the damaged face on the other side. The lights switched on, and Alessio looked back to find Crimson by the door with his hand on the switch. The don looked at him, and Alessio raised the mask.

"Someone put this in his room to scare him."

Crimson grimaced at the realization that Moxxie had, in some way, told him the truth. "God damn it," he cursed to himself and pressed the back of his gun against his forehead.

After a few, angered, breaths he nodded. "Right, we'll have to figure out who put it there tomorrow. Probably that chucklefuck Giancarlo thought it'd be funny. Guess we'll see if he's still laughin' while he replaces my drywall."

He stopped mid-rant as Moxxie pushed into the room. The little imp saw Alessio on one knee with the destroyed mask in hand and gasped. "You got him?!"

The exclamation from him made Alessio crack a smile, and he nearly played back into the fantasy. That is until he caught a look from Crimson that told him to act professional, and he pulled back just as quickly.

"It was just a mask, Moxx. There weren't any monsters. You should go to bed now."

Moxxie's smile faded, and he looked up at his father. Alessio expected the same uncaring treatment from earlier, but he simply nodded in agreement and walked out of the room. He spoke not a word, nor even attempted to give his son any small comfort. A fact that quickly registered across Moxxie's face as it took on a downtrodden look.

He shuffled back to the bed and awkwardly climbed up onto its surface, and Alessio stayed with him until he got under the covers. With a few more adjustments he eventually settled back into bed, and Alessio walked towards the door so he might do the same. After a few paces, he stopped and looked back over at the imp, curled back in bed and ready to sleep.

Maybe it was the feeling of isolation that radiated from his motionless form, or the memory of Crimson's beratement, but something about the sight prompted him to say something. Anything that may offer a hand where one had been denied.

"Moxx?"

The small imp shifted enough to look at him over the covers. Alessio paused for another moment in thought, then eventually nodded.

"If you run into trouble again, you know where to find me."

He gave him a soft smile, and this time Moxxie appeared more receptive to it as his eyes took on a slight sparkle. Satisfied, Alessio switched the lights off and shut the door behind him as he stepped back into the hall. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Crimson stood outside his room.

He believed he waited for him, and he turned to face him directly. Instead, Crimson looked beyond him at the door to his son's room. He didn't acknowledge Alessio's presence until he hesitantly asked, "Sir?"

Crimson finally looked at him and blinked tiredly. "What the fuck am I gonna do with him, Ale?"

The question took Alessio off-guard, and he turned to Moxxie's door in thought. While he had grown physically in recent years, in all other aspects he remained unchanged. Those aspects which Crimson desperately wanted to fix. Characteristics that made him soft, and reminded him of his late wife.

To this day he still blamed her for his improper upbringing. As much as Alessio respected her, he couldn't find fault in Crimson's issues with the boy. This life would not be kind to Moxxie if he could not fend for himself, or if a Halloween mask kept him up at night. He needed to learn, but that required someone to teach him. If Crimson refused that role, someone else would have to take it up.

Alessio turned back to his boss. "Give it time, sir. He'll come around eventually."

Although Crimson looked as if he wanted to dispute his claim, he simply shook his head and muttered, "Yeah, sure. Imma go to bed. Umm... thanks, I guess."

He half-heartedly shrugged and shuffled back into his room; the door closed soon after and clicked with the turn of the lock. Alessio huffed out a long breath and took one last look at Moxxie's room. Then, he walked back down the hall to his own room and closed the door. Although he hoped to find slumber, he'd instead spend the night in quiet contemplation.

Another Alessio being a better dad than Crimson prompt I wanted to write out. This headcanon has me in a vice grip and I will be writing a lot of these in the future. Also I love baby Moxx and he deserves all the love in the world 😤❤️

[horizon-verizon]

hello, i read this www.tumblr.com/universallyexpertfan/753881321066168320/firstlet-me-be-clear-daemon-is-loyal-to-rhaenyra?source=share The op made interesting takes, but I doubt the court would corrupt Rhaenyra and Daemon's children so easily. I mean, they are good kids but at the same time paranoia is real, power corrupts people, and certainly it would be a bigger mess (a civil war between rhaenyra's children) more horrible given that she,in opposite of viserys, did not have favorites (although i think she had) what do u think?

Excerpt that Matters:

Important note :Rhaenyra and daemon are clearly better parents than viserys and Alicent. The children all love each other and team black is clearly a very big and happy family. But then Viserys doted upon Rhaenyra so much yet when Alicent birthed two sons she was worried sick that she will be replaced as an heir. So it's totally possible that jace and luke felt that same fear and anxiety when they saw Aegon iii with his valyrian features. The siblings relationship between team green children is eternally cracked and one of the biggest contributor to that was the court of kings landing. I am a team black person all the way but i have to say that the reason why team black kids are so close to each other is because they are in dragonstone. They have no idea about the viper's nest that is king's landing even without the greens. The court has always been ruthless. [...] Jace is a very patient person but power brings a lot of paranoia with it. Jace loves his little brothers with all his heart but the constant murmur of the people around would eventually give birth to resentment or at least some self hatred. Meanwhile Aegon iii would grow and the snakes of kings landing would obviously try to get into his head and tell him that he is the firstborn son of Daemon and he's not a Bastard unlike his brothers. A child will reflect the environment that they grew up in. And even if aegon iii could not be persuaded i know Viserys ii could be. And i know that because book Viserys ii was a political menace who cared about only 2 things the targaryan bloodline and his brother.

Viserys' Character =/= Rhaenyra's Character

But then Viserys doted upon Rhaenyra so much yet when Alicent birthed two sons she was worried sick that she will be replaced as an heir.

I have a lot of posts on Viserys' characterization, bk or show. Here's a list:

LINK -- "What Viserys really did was to try to maintain a balance between his wife & his daughter, because he just inherently hated conflicts, had already married Alicent (so he didn't know she'd be so persistent), loved her AND Rhaenyra was his miracle child from the woman he probably feels very guilty about." -- Viserys was very focused on making sure that as many different people with different interests in him at different times were satisfied with how he ran things, which is why he often putting down Rhaenyra and Daemon's more norm-divergent ideas and behavior. Rhaenyra is decidely not like Viserys, she does not and will not compel her children to follow contradictory and fruitless orders or arrangements. She's more the type, bk or show, to try to listen to her kids' protests and reason through it. You might think Viserys was the same in Rhaenyra's youth in the show....no, the man decided to marry Alicent knowing Rhaenyra would have...words and didn't want to deal with that. He had options, do something like the Maiden's Day Ball but with more class. There is him breaking the deal or reneging on the deal with her about dismissing Otto for her to "happily" marry Laenor instead of trying to push for her marriage to be delayed--he brought Otto back. Which decidely endangers Rhaenyra's place at court bc now Otto is in close proximity to plot better. Of which Viserys knows but he also refuses to really confront that Otto and maybe others would go against his wishes if they had the chance. He in general hopes that others will play the game exactly as he would.

While it may seem that bk!Rhaenyra was like Viserys in that she also relies on her position or she seemed as ineffectual as Viserys in the Rosby-Stokeworth, etc. that was an actual precarious political situation unlike Viserys who again had options in a few of his own decisions, that is more to advocate for herself in a situation where not much else aside from her dragon does. She is also not desperate for others approval as Viserys was, not so. So she will not ignore those closest to her or force them into compromising positions--Viserys was not paranoid, he was just careless; her paranoia (which may or may not have even been as bad as it is told by maesters and different anecdotes to be) stemmed from actual events at least of betrayal as well as the justified fear of losing her mainly male supporters clashing.

The Kids' Upbringing/Characters

I am a team black person all the way but i have to say that the reason why team black kids are so close to each other is because they are in dragonstone.

That's a whole lot of assumption there. One, that even other siblings who don't grow up together absolutely 100% of the time willi backstab each other or suspect the other.

As for all the problems about the siblings turning on each other bc of pressures, kinslaying is so taboo it's not even funny. Maegor's shadows lingers...Rhaenyra already (assuming she is successfully Queen before any of her kids are monarchs) had to contend with that particular accusation without actually having kinslayed bc she was a woman, but now we're dealing with boys and there is no sign of proof that any of Rhaenrya's supporters cared abt her kids maybe being bastards. None. Don't forget, Cregan Stark and Jeyne Arryn, why they themselves decided to support Rhaentya AND her heirs...I doubt that Cregan or his direct children (unless something situationally coincidental happens) would prevent them from supporting Jace...esp if you believe the Pact of Ice and Fire existed b/t them, forever locking them and their kids in oaths that Starks apparently don't tend to break. "What if we get a Stark who doesn't care or is held back?" Again, this ignores that Rhaenyra had many more allies than just the Starks and Jace was her defacto heir...like Joffrey, she would have also made it so to make him her heir apparent de jure. Not to mention Jace married Baela, Luke married Rhaena (in this hypothetical). Luke would be Lord of the biggest naval force there is while beign brother to Jace; both their wives are granddaughters of a dragonrider (assuming Rhaenys is alive) who's not sitting idle if her grandkids are getting attacked. Even if it was just Baela, not sitting out. Baela and Rhaena both would also be dragonriders...if Aegon and Viserys both foolishly decided that they were now wanting to become kings, they are vastly outpowered.

Even if Aegon and Viserys were or grew up to be inclined to rebel or try to take their brother's seat...who exactly is trying to turn them against him and how much influence do they really have or how jealous & emotionally distant do these two boys have to become for them to be willing? Why and how did they become so influenced as Daemon Blackfyre, who unlike them, lived in a household of misery and emotional distance bc the father wanted to overindulge himself at the expense of those around him AND his mother was forced to live in the shadows and lose her birthright to a religious zealot of a brother. Brynden's generation comes from competeing women and their families' interests--Aegon IV's mistresses, that is. The Brackens and Blackwoods were already long-born enemies! There was absolutely no unity in this generation, unless we speak of the BryndenxShiera-Daeron II untis? Still, divided and comparatively to greens vs blacks...which we all know what heppened there.

It's such an assumption made from the belief that people grow to want power just for the sake of it more times than to find validation. it take s for granted the perceived norm of step relations and bastardry. We need a journey/explanation of character development to really prove why Aegon and Viserys would turn with how they grew up so differently from other noble children and esp in relation to their older stepbrother/half brothers who I don't believe for a min that they thought of as such but just "brothers". Very Valyrian, tbh. Like rhaenin-time says here:

In Valyria, "step" anything didn't have the same sort of value as Andal-FM step-relations.

Jace grew up both with much more people backing him up AND he, Luke, Joffrey are growing/were growing with stronger sense of self bc they were growing up in that sort of alternative space in their formative years. As I say below, Viserys (II) either needed more time to cook, he grew up with a suppressed fear of chaos that motivated him towards the "easier" path and because most of his life he had to essentially clean up his family's messes as their second, AND

i know Viserys ii could be.

Viserys had a whole different life from his other brothers--he was literally kidnapped and forced to grow up in a foreign land, as safe as he technically was. He lost most of the family and a chance of a dragon bond--he is more dissociated from Rhaenyra than any of his siblings, which is why he's the more adamant about maintaining the succession practice and family line arrangements that coincide with the lay of Andal customs--so another succession crisis doesn't erupt. We can't make as his he is a good example at all to evaluate the others who lived longer and had a stronger impression of Rhaenyra's influence and authority than he did. Given more time, we also don't know if Viserys would have been more amenable to an alternative succession plan for himself...

This all speaks to a reduction of Rhaenyra's/a ruling mother's influence over her own kids, tbh. Fact is, we'll simply not ever know.

Even if she did have a "favorite", how she'd handle her kids while having one is not likely going to be the same as how Viserys did.

It's kinda like the Queen Elizabeth I vs her son Charles and how they dealt with family intrigue or public faces and how we see a clear difference there. Under a more family-conscious/prioritized woman, the royla family didn't really go through terrible public crises and yes there are some secrets that deserve some digging up....with Charles, it's every fucking month.

And I'm talking about critically healthier dynastic, internal unity that comes from a good parent being firm but fostering strong bonds between the kids no matter the environment bc they themselves or more or less adjusted, adaptable, and have a strong enough will to establish boundaries wherever their family goes.

So honestly, it bleeds a lack of faith in this unique family. Is the possibility 0% there won't be some sort of trouble, sure. When in life is there ever a perfect 0% or a perfect 100%? But also we can and often do make good guesses on probability through our observation and rely on said material evidence that we use to make our conclusions that we base our decisions on. These characters are capable of the same as well as a change of values but we need to ties those changes and developments to actual specific events that build up on each other for them to turn out the way they do when the evidence before suggested that such a thing was unlikely.

So the other problem I see there is that the person is making a lesser possibility into an unavoidable or very likely probability without giving much evidence and relying on assumptions based on traditional observations from conventional family patterns that this family simply deviates from in many ways. Therefore, again, you need material evidence that Aegon Viserys = Daemon Blackfyre or this "bastard" situation is the exact same as all the others apart from your own assumptions. It all seems overly cautious, nonanalytical, too avoidant-focused--ironically is what Viserys I did. You gotta pursue the implications of the difference sometimes further than the environment. We are not all our environment and we aren't always so affected by it as to go wherever others wish for us to go.

And I partially blame HotD, bc they really made it so that we can't even speculate much abt the boys' parentage as much as we could book-wise since Rhaenys was dark haired from her Baratheon mother and some Targs even before Rhaenyra's generation came out with nontypical Targ features: Alysanne and Alyssa. And we don't get to see how people out of the court saw things. I'm talking about the impression on the audience made through scenes HotD could have built to establish to contextualize and make stakes for how the greens v the blacks interacted and competed in court and out for political dominance before the actual war. Who favors who and why?

[helphelpquesohelado]

Regarding your post about the retcons to your au, what does that mean for some aspects of the story?

Joy's manic episode, which happens to be like a giant flash grenade.

The idea of Joy leaving headquarters out of guilt and shame for unintentionally hurting Riley (Which was an idea i made a few months back)

The sense of self (Specifically, the new one joy makes after the old one was thrown out by Anxiety)

her relationship with Fear.

her transformation (Since joy is not longer considered to be a disorder, how will it work now)

her takeover of Riley's mind (Especially Imagination land)

now that's just scratching the surface, but I feel like these questions are good enough for what I'm genuinely curious about.

Before I start I would like to say that My hyperfixations are the main reason i have gotten tumblr, therefore Its incredibly difficult to initiate more content for the silly au on top of school being in. That being said i will not create or work on the au content after the hyperfixation has passed. if your in the mood for me to come up with something new you can always give me a writing prompt(like maybe the intro, a oneshot or middle. It would get me out of a creative slump, practice writing, and feed the three people who enjoy this. ;)

Manic episodes will be exactly like how they are depicted in the fanfiction  Inside Out Neurodiversity witch i have mentioned many times by now.

I've been thinking about the scene at the final credits of the first film; where we get a view into the bus drivers mind.

The fact that the emotions themselves can somehow shift into different forms leaves so much room for creative uses or wonderful phycological symbolism and all that junk. Since the Headquarters and the rest of the brain being a personification, I would like to toy with how the emotions shift, warp, change along with the landscape itself. Yumi nikki and Omori type shit, that I like. Theirs so much to explore with the mind!

maybe after a while, joy produces a memory that's orange instead, they wouldn't notice and maybe along with joy the forms of the other emotions start to shift too. maybe in another timeline fear grows more eyes to keep a watch on all, anxiety's hair turns into worms that infect everything. sadness grows warts full of salty tears, for every tear riley refuses to spread. can you tell i love horror :). I would like to make parallels between anxiety and joy if i do write something.

I image they try to replicate the sense of self to an unhealthy extent, every orb from the old has to have its equivalent. They problem sent some mind workers to go find them. Although I'd imagine that the old sense of self would be long barried under the memory pile at the back of the mind. The goal of Anxiety and co would be the same as the second one maybe, they would try to find the old sense of self in a panic, and they travel though different locations along the way then in the second movie, like the scarped puppetry park and dream productions! like the emotions the sense of self warps. Its alive, all of the brain is after all. It pulses with life, cry's when it needs. neat stuff man.

Her relationship with the emotions is still something i need to explore. I want to do anger next, maybe he is pressured to do "right" and ends up being the straw that breaks the camels back for riley when she looses her patience with her friends, why don't they want to hang out with her??????

(I accidently put bullet point number 5 in the second area, whoops. this is bullet number 2)

Joy wouldn't run away per say but maybe in a final confrontation (I'm sorry i got nothing for now lol)

Joy would unnaturally become a figure akin to anxiety without realizing it. She projects to riley good memories yet she doesn't allow her to grieve, Instead its almost a primal rage of fear of what she once had, this creating a sort of compulsion to keep her friends. (sadness, realizing that she has been cast aside once again, she begins to grow.... bitter,)

I just what to say that you've been a big ol' help for motivation and stuff and I would like to ask, since we have a post of fear already, witch character would you like me to explore?

Anger

Disgust

Embarrassment

Ennui

Envy

Anxiety

Nostalgia

Sadness

Riley and some real world stuff.

this au is honestly a mess but brainstorming is pretty fun.

[konigsprinzessin]

donnerkeil. part four, yandere!könig x reader

hi! i’m back! please like and reblog! also this was only edited once so if there’s any mistakes let me knowwwwww!

it was unfortunate that everything was closed. he offered kindly to take you out that afternoon to learn more about each other although the realization that it was sunday made him feel like an idiot. his plan to continue the rest of the day with you was interrupted as quite literally- nothing was open. the shops and restaurants closed. he wasn’t going to invite you into his apartment yet, he didn’t want you to think he was insane and/or trying to prey upon you. 

he didn’t think he was insane. just someone with a lot of emotions.

maybe.

he held your basket in his hands walking by your side yet slightly trailing behind you, following your lead. you were making you way back to your apartment, knowing the tall man was following beside you. you were deciding whether or not to invite the man you just met not more than an hour ago into your living space, into your space, into your apartment. the fact that you couldn’t make your mind was eating you up with stress and anxiety. 

he seemed kind enough but you were from a place were the meaning of “stranger danger” was more severe and realistic compared to the small austrian countryside. everyone knew each other here and looked after each other, both the young and the old. walking besides you was the behemoth of a man. you could only imagine the looks on the little old ladies’ faces as your small frame was accompanied by the almost 7 foot giant, especially with how sweet and lovingly he was treating you. as well as him holding your little basket filled with fruits and other items from the market. 

“are you here for work?” he questioned. 

“school. i go to university of vienna.” you chirped. a certain “bounce” in the tone of your voice. 

“and what will you study?” he inquired. you were unable to see the smile forming on his scarred lips.

“i’m not too sure yet, i’m thinking something with science or health. for a while i wanted to be a teacher.” you giggled, letting a sigh escape from your parted lips.  

“wow, you’re so smart then.” you felt a light blush cast over your cheeks because of his compliment. 

“and you? which university do you go to” you asked, turning your head to look up at him. könig was such a fitting name for him. you were still in belief over his height yet his calm and nice personality. he was soft spoken around you, in his line of work he would bark orders at men not that much older than you and slaughter men with guns twice your size. 

“uh i’m not a student anymore. i’m apart of the police? i think is how you say it?” he laughed in embarrassment, his voice was higher pitched clearly manipulating his voice to make it seem like his english skills were much more duller than what they actually were. könig had men deployed from america and other english speaking countries and put just as much fear into them as what he did the native german speaking recruits. you were too perfect to find out he was a colonel, a military man, a murderer. 

“oh my, what type of policework do you do? i know its a lot different from what the policework is like back home. but i’ve never met an officer before.” 

“nothing happens here but if a fight happens or if there’s loud music i deal with that. nothing too crazy.” he followed as you turned right on the cobblestone sidewalk, he let you walk on the slightly elevated sidewalk while he trailed right besides you on the side of the road. by no means was it a busy street so there was no reason to be worried about speeding cars. you saw your terracotta coloured apartment and stopped outside the brown oak door. könig quickly caught on that the door behind you was yours, and that led to your house. you led him to it without a second thought, no doubts in your mind that he could be dangerous at all- to you he was a gentle giant. you had let him right to the place you felt most safe in. all he had to do was wait for you to open that door and he could rush you. throw that stupid fucking basket on the floor. hold his hand over your mouth, threaten you and tell you that you’re coming with him. tell you that you’re never going to see that room again and you’d drop out of school as soon as you were settled in his apartment. which wasn’t too far for someone who was familiar with the area but it was far enough for a foreigner to get lost. 

“ah.” he trailed, handing you the basket. you held the straw handle within your fingers. his hand quickly brushed upon yours but that didn’t make him falter- not yet at least. he decided then it wouldn’t be the best time to attack you in mid-morning plus you needed to gain his trust just a little bit more. 

funny how within those few hours he figured that you’d make the perfect wife for him. all you need is him and all he needs is you.

“i’m sorry, i would invite you in but my flat is a mess.” you laughed, rubbing your arm in shame. “i can give you my number though! if you want it that is.” you looked back up at him with the most angelic smile könig had ever seen. he is the reason why you were smiling so wide. you were too perfect for this cruel world, too innocent to know what he does for work and too precious to know the thoughts and fantasies crowding his mind. 

[tens-girl]

As we go into the new year, I want to suggest that we make 2025 the year of commenting.

We all love fanfic - the escape, the emotional connection, the joy, the pain, the pleasure it brings us - and all that wouldn't be possible without authors pouring out their hearts and minds (and often their guts) onto the screen for us to read - but so often, out of shyness or awkwardness or for a hundred other reasons, we don't tell them how much their fics mean to us, or even simply that we've enjoyed them.

Recently, I've been making a real effort to comment more. As a writer, I know how much it means, and I realised that as a reader I was letting shyness get in the way of giving others what I would love to receive, so I've upped my game.

And I want to share how awesome it's been.

Sometimes, it's a simple exchange, just a one-off interaction, a simple 'I loved this, thank you' and no more. But on a couple of occasions recently, I've ended up having full conversations with authors across chapters, discussing their ideas and characters and plots in more detail - and let me tell you, that is so much fun!

The thing is, that author who wrote that fic that hits all your sweet spots - they're into the same stuff you are - so actually it's a really efficient way of getting talking to people you'll have something in common with, and of having something to talk about (the fic!) - and although it doesn't always, sometimes the conversation just builds from there.

In one case, this has been on a fic series that the author began 2 1/2 years ago, and I've been commenting as I've (rabidly) devoured the whole thing - and I know this point is made a lot, but it always bears repeating - the author was thrilled to know that someone new had found it and was loving it! We're enjoying my journey together, and now they're reading my fics and doing the same, and honestly I've got the biggest grin on my face as I see the notifications being flung back and forth and about six different conversation threads at any one time getting tangled between us! It's awesome!

In the other case, it was on an ongoing fic, and I had the pleasure of seeing how the author reacted to the things their readers (myself included) were most responsive to, giving us more of the things we liked. The number of later chapters on which my comments became 'you could have written this for me' - delicious! Again, we've had some great back and forth, they've read some of my fics, and now we're bouncing fresh ideas around together. It's awesome!

I have social anxiety, and even behind a username I feel self-conscious putting myself out there - but honestly, it's so worth the little twinge of fear, because sometimes great things come from it. So whether it's a simple 'extra kudos', a heart, an 'I loved this!', or a more in-depth analysis of the bits you liked best - next time you really enjoy a fic, leave a comment. What's the worst that could happen? (Clue - the answer is quite literally nothing, and the best that could happen is you make a friend!)

@cristinaecho and @disastercoded - this is about you of course, you beautiful people! May our DT-specific kinks align forever and always!

[ice-and-fire]

CHAPTER 1: PRISONED PART 3

WARNING FOR SWEARING, MENTION OF ABUSE, VISION OF DEATH, GORE AND BLOOD !!!

The cube shapebot managed to bring the goat in the room, where she was, while the orb shapebot was following behind.

C: There we are...

B: Hey! Let my hand off!

O: How about we make a deal?

Billie looked at Orbot with curious expression. Deal? What deal?

B: Say it, I guess?

O: You will stay here and Cubot will let you go and behave or else we will put you in the cage. You wouldn't like that, right?

Billie wanted to escape, to go back their home. They didn't want to stay here.

B: But... I wanna leave! I want to go back home!

Both robots were expected to reach like that. Cubot decided to talk to her with serious and tired tone.

C: Look kiddo, we know you don't like the place and... Shit... But...

B: But what?

O: We could let you free, but we have to follow the orders from Doctor Eggman. While he is... Busy with an old robot...

B: Ah ha...

O: Please understand that... We can't let you free...

Orbot's voice was disappointed and quietly. He hoped that the goat would understand him... Billie knew that they couldn't do anything. So they decided to stay here.

B: Fine... I'll stay as soon as your friend let my hand go.

C: And not doing anything stupid...?

The cube robot spoke in serious and threatening tone. The goat looked at him with shocked and confusing expression. Orbot looked at him too. He felt that something is wrong... That Cubot is not Cubot that he knows and loves... Something is definitely wrong...

B: No... No I won't...

C: Alright then.

They let her hand free. She didn't like the way that Cubot was holding her.

O: I'll check the boss...

Orbot then went closer to Cubot and whispered to xem.

O: If its okay, please don't let your eyes lose her... I don't trust her at all...

C: Rodger dodger.

O: Thank you...

And then he left. Billie was alone with Cubot. It could say that they don't like him at all. What is wrong with him? He grabbed them and dragged them in the room again, he threaten them and now... They are with him. Cubot looked at them for once and then turned to the desk, trying to something. Probably his job or something.

B: . . . Soooooo, you're Cubot, right?

C: Mhm...

B: You have be here for long time, right?

C: Do I look like new here to you...?

B: I'm not trying to say that. I'm trying to say that you must know why I am here. Like, your boss might told you the reason-

C: Look, it would be better if ya could shut up. I'm trying to work here!

They looked at her again, with tired expression. Billie noticed that and thought if those called robots can be tired too. Cubot sighs and turned again to the desk. Although, she would not give up until she got an answer for her kidnapping.

B: Oh really? Then I'm sorry for interrupting to your "special job" but I'll not stop until I got an answer!

Cubot was so fed up... Until....

B: Maybe you're ignoring me because you don't wanna lose that stupid idiot!

Alright, THEY ARE DONE FOR!

C: OF COURSE I DON'T WANNA LOSE HIM YOU PIECE OF SHIT!!

Xe turned to her again with aggression. Xe snapped at them and made Billie jump from that.

B: Woah, hey look-

C: DO YOU KNOW HOW HARD IS TO KEEP YOURSELF CALM WHILE YOU SEE YOUR BEST FRIEND GETTING HURT!? AND GETTING YELLED!? AND FEARING THAT YOU MIGHT LOSE HIM BY YOUR BOSS SCRAPPING HIM!?

The goat couldn't believe in her ears. Did Eggman did these things to... Orbot...?

C: OR EVEN SEEING YOURSELF GETTING HURT BY SOME VARIOUS THINGS!? GETTING THROWN AND HITTING YOURSELF IN THE WALL AND YOU REALIZE THAT THERE'S A WOUND IN YOUR HEAD BUT YOU CAN'T STOP THE OIL LOSE STOP BECAUSE ITS DRIPPING FAST!? AND YOUR BOSS INSULTING YOU AND YOUR BEST FRIEND FOR TRYING YOUR BEST BUT FAILING!? AND EVEN WORSE, SEEING YOUR BEST FRIEND GETTING SCARED WHEN YOUR BOSS RAISING HIS VOICE BECAUSE OF HIS ANXIETY AND TRAUMA!? DO YOU!?

Billie was left speechless, they never thought that those robot... Suffered from Eggman...

C: no... Of course you don't... Because those things never happened to-

Before Cubot stopped, he saw a vision... A horrible one... Billie was actually dead front of him. Her guts were explode and she was missing an eyeball, laying in the ground... Blood everywhere... But it disappeared for few seconds... He was stunned for too long, with winded eyes...

B: You good...?

They didn't answer to them... After few minutes they turned back to their work...

C: Yeah, I guess...

Billie could tell that xe wasn't okay... Something was bothering xem... But she didn't know what...