#and because i didn't know what depression was at the time i wasn't able to come up with anything besides “brain empty”
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uncle-fruity · 15 hours ago
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I organized a booth at my local pride where we gave out free water and did a pay-what-you-can art store to increase accessibility for poor people at Pride. We raised enough money to cover the cost of the booth AND the cost for the 2025 booth AND some.
I also helped organize, alongside some friends of mine, a bake sale to help our friends keep their home, which was being threatened with foreclosure. These were disabled trans folks who had fallen behind on payments because of lack of access to transportation, limiting their job opportunities. We didn't raise enough to fully pay stuff off, but we raised enough for at least one of their mortgage payments, which bought them some time & wasn't nothing.
My friends helped pay for me so I could take a road trip with them to visit our other friend who lived a couple of states away from us. I got to meet an online friend in the process, and we all went on a float trip and to a really cool museum and a great production of Much Ado About Nothing. It was a lot of fun and I got to hang out with a bunch of my old college friends.
I started the year with the intention to interact more with my friends and the general community and succeeded. I joined a comic maker's group and got two of my comics published in their anthologies. The local queer art group that I founded back in 2018 started having in person meetings again after we had to stop in 2020 due to covid. I made an effort to reach out to the people I care about more than I had been able to in past years. My socializing really improved and my goal to meet new people and foster relationships with already existing friends was a success!
I started going to the library more, and tbh learned a lot about the things they offer there and found some really interesting books that would have never occurred to me to look for in a book shop.
There were some bad things that happened, too. Bad things are inevitable when you're living in poverty and your local government couldn't give two shits about you or your neighbors. But the good outweighed the bad, and I felt that I contributed positive things to my community and that my community came through for me as well.
Despite everything, my sense of self worth has seriously improved. My life has significantly improved in the last two or three years because at some point I decided I wanted to be an active participant in it. There were several years where I was extremely depressed, bitter, and isolated. Years of burnout and anger brought on because I took the extremely difficult steps to stop talking to my abusive family. I struggled with everything and felt like very few people would be there for me if I fell through the cracks. But you know what? I came out on the other side. My friends proved my paranoia that no one loved me wrong. It's not all perfect and there's still plenty of difficulties that I face, but I am generally happier and healthier and kinder than I used to be, and that's huge.
I know things look bleak and hope can feel foolish sometimes in the face of great hardships, but finding joy is an action you must take upon yourself when you can. Even if all you can find are the little things. And when you can't, I hope you have people who love you to make it hurt less. I hope good things come your way soon. I hope good things come for all of us. Let's do our best to make it happen for ourselves and the people we love in 2025!
hey honest question, did anybody have GOOD stuff happen to them in 2024? cause it was really bad for me and for most people i know, so it would be nice to hear about anything that's been going WELL for any of you. even if it's small stuff. just to know there's light out there.
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psych0t1c-bread · 2 days ago
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@howlsofbloodhounds here's the fanfic I promised! Sorry it took me so long lol (and sorry that it's so long in the first place. I meant for this to only be 5k but... judging by the fact that this ended up being 10k, that didn't quite happen, did it?)
@adler9944 because you wanted to read it as well!
Also, the first half of the chapter is a flashback that sets the tone for the story. You can skip it if you want, but I wouldn't suggest it.
I also posted this on Ao3. I hope you like it! Enjoy!
The Right Time and Place
(Cw: swearing, dissociation, self-deprication, mention of blood, PTSD nightmares/flashbacks, etc.)
5 months.
It had been 5 months since Color escaped the VOID. 5 months since Core found him, 5 months since he had been accepted into the Omega Timeline, 5 months since he began to get adjusted to life outside the VOID, and 3 months since he had been introduced to Delta.
Color had learned a lot from being with Delta, casually observing his friend's behaviors to mirror them. He still didn't quite know how to act now that he was out of the VOID. But life seemed a bit more normal now, much easier than it had been - much better.
He watched Delta's movements and attitude with utmost curiosity, unintentionally mirroring it all. He felt like he knew everything about his friend - his hand movements, his interests, where he worked, his attitude, his sarcasm and sass, his confidence, his knowledge.
Color felt like he knew everything about Delta.
It was about 10 pm as Color thought about this. His drifting, heavy eyes slowly began to close as he thought about it while drifting off into dream. And for once, his memory served him well - he remembered how they met almost perfectly...
[For the first two months, Color had stayed in the hospital while Core tried to find a suitable roommate for him, or at least one that would be willing to try.
Luckily, their newest tenant in the apartments a couple blocks from the hospital seemed up for the challenge.
When Core had first approached him with the idea of a roommate, Delta naturally asked who they were, why they were here. He was curious, but needed to make sure it'd be safe for him to room with this person.
Core couldn't tell him much - just that his supposed roommate had arrived two months ago, depressed and malnourished, from a dark VOID where he was held captive for around 20 years based on the doctor's observations.
They weren't able to tell him much more.
It took Delta all of 10 seconds to make his decision. Core offered him time, but before they could even finish their sentence, he had decided to accept this new person.
He asked if he could at least visit his new roommate in the hospital. Core explained that he was near catatonic, and wasn't used to people - but that the doctors would help his new roommate get adjusted by stopping by once a day. (Bit intrusive in Delta's opinion, but if all of what Core said was true, then it was incredibly necessary to have the doctors stop by.)
He gladly accepted.
Once Color had been discharged, Core took him to meet Delta if he was feeling well enough for it. And luckily, at that moment, he was.
Core led him to a peaceful park at dusk, not wanting Color to be overwhelmed by the sun and the busy lives of the people who lived here just yet.
After a short walk, they found Delta, who was sitting on a bench and patiently waiting to meet his roommate.
The two hit it off the bat immediately.
Well, Delta did, at least. At first, his bright orange eyes - a sign Color later learned that meant he was on guard, or that Beta was watching from inside - deeply intimidated Color, with their white dragon-like pupils unintentionally glaring down at him.
But once he saw Delta smile, and happily introduce himself and offer a handshake, Color couldn't help but relax. He was... charismatic, in his own special way.
Their clothes were covered in dirt and grime, having just been called after work. He barely had time to take his goggles and apron off before rushing to wherever Core needed him.
(Truthfully, they had been expecting a fight, but were nonetheless happy to meet someone new.)
And from what Color could hear, Delta had been taking up work at an engineering place of sorts - making new gadgets, weapons, safety items.
Needless to say, Delta's first introduction to Color wasn't him at his prettiest. (Not to say he'd look bad in his work clothes covered in dirt, though...)
Yet still, Color felt himself being drawn to them. Something about them - their voice, their appearance - made them enticing. And it didn't go unnoticed how the Bravery Soul inside of him felt suddenly at ease, watching the other still closely but much more relaxed. There was some sort of... attachment, on Delta that he could feel.
Something new. Something he hadn't experienced with any other Sans before.
It was overwhelming at first. Delta was very excited to meet someone new - he couldn't seem to stop talking, unable to stop asking all the questions that came to their mind as they lightly bounced on their feet. They had an almost childlike curiosity to them.
Core gently shut them down, being direct yet cautious. They knew Delta had no idea about Color's past, and was rightfully curious - a bit too curious, but innocent in his curiosities.
Unfortunately, Color did not take that well.
He was polite, at first. He was able to smile and force himself to keep calm. But the longer the noise carried on, the more questions Delta asked that he didn't want to answer, the brighter the lights around them seemed to get - it was all quickly too much.
But upon seeing the distressed and aggravated look in his new friend's eyes, Delta stopped. He froze momentarily, seeming deep in thought, silently wondering if he was being too much already.
To fix this, they whipped out their backpack, quickly unzipped the big pocket, and pulled out some headphones.
Without hesitating, he offered it to Color.
The other tried to deny his needs at first, not wanting to seem like a burden so early on - look at him, how selfish he is. Burdening a stranger on their first meeting. And he hasn't even made it back to the apartment yet, barely even spoken a word to this stranger! What if he was being rude? What if Delta didn't want to be his roommate anymore because of this? Was he going to be left alone again? Was it his fault? What if this was a trap? Was Delta tricking him to trap him and keep him here forever? What if he was? What if he wasn't? What if-
His breathing began to grow heavy as these thoughts filled his mind. The lights, the noise - it was all too much. The fire in their skull crackled, glowing brighter by the second as a sharp, violent pain overtook their skull.
Instinctively, Delta tried to gently touch Color's shoulder to get him to focus and take the headphones. They could see the pain in Color's grimace, and wanted to help.
Unfortunately, Color snapped.
He jumped back, almost screaming at Delta to get away, making the other flinch and take a quick step back.
Before he could even process what was going on, Color had sunk to his knees as he trembled, violently restraining his sobs as his thoughts and pain overtook him. He frantically tried to cover his broken skull with his hood, desperately trying to block out all the lights around.
Silently, after he overcame the shock, Delta quietly began to analyze him. The Bravery Soul inside him demanded an answer for the outburst, but Delta didn't have one - that was, until, he heard faint sobs from the other.
He came to the quick conclusion that Color wasn't mad at them. He was mad at the world - for reasons unknown to Delta, obviously. He had only been told bits and pieces of vital information when Core had first approached him about it - he always needed to know what he was getting himself into before deciding something major.
Core glanced almost nervously at Delta. They knew his demeanor quite well - and they knew that if such kindness was rejected so harshly, it could get an even harsher reaction out of the hot-head. His silence was a bit unnerving.
But instead of growing irritated or aggressive, Delta opted for comfort. As much as people may know him for his his brash attitude and doubt that much good can come out of it, he knows when the right time for a fight is - and now is not that time. He wasn't gonna just start fighting someone who so obviously needed help! (Maybe not his help specifically, but it didn't look like anyone else besides from Core was gonna be of much use, so why not do what he can?)
Needless to say, both were surprised when Delta gently and cautiously crouched down in front of Color - still keeping his distance - and quietly called out to him.
Color managed to force himself to peek up from his hood, to see Delta sitting down and smiling a bit sadly at him, empathy glistening in his eyes.
Delta began to sign to him, unsure if it would work or if Color even knew sign language, but he knew that he shouldn't speak more to aggravate the other further. He kept his body a bit closer to the ground, not wanting to make Color look up in the light any more than he had to.
Cautiously, Delta offered to take Color somewhere quieter and safer. He mentioned that there was a library they could go to, it had a sensory room with blackout curtains if he needed a nap, and a Cafe in case he needed a drink or caffeine.
Color froze at the options. What was all of this that he was speaking of? A Cafe? Library? He didn't remember those words anymore. Stars, he could have sworn he heard about them in his dreams.
Was this all a dream, then? Was any of this real? What if it wasn't? Was he trapped somewhere, was he dreaming again? Was this reality or not? How could he tell?
But after Delta had finished signing, Color realized that he had stopped shaking so much. He didn't feel much calmer, as he was still hyperventilating, but he was able to see Delta clearly enough to listen. He found himself breathing a tiny bit slower, his body slowly relaxing the longer Delta held eye contact - he couldn't look away.
Color managed to regain his voice after a moment. He hadn't experienced kindness from someone else in so long... it felt amazing. And yet, that feeling was quickly overtaken by terror and suspicion.
Tears rolled down his skull as he managed to choke out that he wanted to go home. But what was home? Was it the VOID? His AU? Where was it, what was it? Was it with anyone?
Delta and Core were both quite surprised, but upon seeing the despiration in Color's eyes, Delta decided to back off on taking his friend anywhere new.
Core softly spoke up, offering to take Color back to his new apartment. But Color shook his head, unsure of where that was - if it even existed.
After about an hour of trying to talk Color down, Delta had managed to bring him back to reality and get him to take some deep breaths. He handed Color his water, which the other immediately snatched and downed in one go.
Delta was surprised, but gladly let the other take it. And once Color had managed to ground himself and calm down, they slowly stood and offered a hand up. (In truth, with how sudden the panic attack happened, he wasn't quite sure if Color would be able to walk without help.)
Color flinched back, his shaky hands tensing at the sudden movement. But when he saw Delta was genuinely offering to help, he paused.
He hesitated, unsure if touch would send him back over the edge. But the pain in his legs made it feel impossible to get up on his own.
He didn't want to get hurt or tricked. But the kindness in Delta's bright orange eyes told him that he was safe.
For once in his life, something was telling him he was safe.
Slowly, he reached out a shaking hand.
Delta gladly took it.
His tight, strong grip was like no other Color had felt - not in a while, at least. Their hands felt strong and safe, comforting Color and silently telling him that not a single Soul would dare to harm him - not if Delta was around to help it.
The orange metal gauntlet was a surprisingly smooth, almost soothing texture. It was slightly cold, but warmer than Color was expecting - was it always like that, or did Delta just do that for him?
And as Delta pulled him up with ease, Color felt their body practically melt into his hand. It helped that Color couldn't feel his bones - the gauntlet covered his hand fully, blocking out any physical contact from under it. And the fact that it was smooth and not rough or jagged or cold like other metals was the icing on the cake.
Quickly pulling him to his feet, Delta held his hands out just in case Color stumbled or collapsed again. But once his new friend was stable, Core began to lead them to the apartment.
Color still doubted his surroundings. He yanked his hand away from Delta after a moment, but mumbled a quiet 'thank you'. Delta responded with a bright smile.
As they walked in silence, Color couldn't help but notice a protective energy around the group - as if something was watching over them, keeping them safe, protecting them.
He glanced over at Delta.
He figured out where the energy was coming from.
If anyone dared to look in their direction as they made their way to the apartment, they were met with a fiercely protective glare from Delta - a silent promise of hurt if they dared approach with ill intentions. Their hands were kept firmly at their sides as they surveyed the surroundings, keeping track of every alleyway, every person, what they looked like.
Color felt safe. He didn't know why or how, or if it was a trick. But he felt his body relax slowly as they continued walking.
And after a 10 minute walk, they arrived at the apartment.
As Delta carefully held his keys as still as possible so they wouldn't jingle too much, he slowly cracked open the white door, and entered in.
It was fairly clean, though evident that Delta had been living there - he hadn't expected to have company so soon, but had a short warning beforehand (three days) so he could at least clean up the place. Everything was swept and dusted, but his work clothes and apron had been carelessly tosses into a pile near his bedroom door.
The dark, dull beige walls of the apartment greeted their eyes first. The light brown couch was lovingly worn down from Delta alone, with the TV remote resting on the class coffee table in front of it.
The TV stand was nothing fancy, either - not that Delta cared, anyhow. It was tidy with a few movie boxes and a DVD player on it, on the small shelf below the TV itself. The TV was a decent size, nothing huge but definetly big enough for multiple people to enjoy.
The big light above them had been left on, but Delta quickly shut it off as to not overwhelm Color. He silently slipped his shoes off before fully entering to reach for the lightswitch, walking on the cold wooden floors.
Looking a bit to his left, Color could see the open entrance to what Delta described as the kitchen. He could faintly see what looked like chairs and possibly a table.
To his right, he saw a hallway. Delta explained that it led to the bathroom and bedrooms, though Color couldn't quite remember what that meant.
Color remained frozen in the doorway. He saw dozens of items he had a vague memory of, but didn't know the names.
Delta silently awaited a reaction, wanting to ensure Color didn't get overwhelmed. Though, to him, there wasn't much to get overwhelmed about. But judging by Color's earlier reactions, he wasn't quite sure if it would be the same.
Softly, Color asked what the new items were.
Delta was quite surprised by that. But, he cautiously described each and every one, giving Color breaks when he saw his face twist in confusion.
Eventually, Color managed to walk into the house. He took a close look around at the bleak walls, into the kitchen and down the hall. There were so many new things - but all he cared about right now was sleep.
Before he got fully settled, however, Delta offered both him and Core lunch. He wouldn't be able to cook much (the oven was most likely still broken from the last time he attempted to use it), but he could at least feed them a snack or something.
Color's demeanor suddenly sparked up at the mention of food. And upon seeing the sudden shift in attitude, Delta took it as a yes and immediately headed to the kitchen to make them some sandwiches.
To his surprise, Color followed.
The creaks in the floorboards startled him at first, along with Delta's silent footsteps - why couldn't he hear them? Were they really there?
Delta glanced back, to see Color looking confused and uncomfortable. He was about to ask what was up, when Color softly spoke out and asked why he was so quiet.
Delta was surprised, but apologized and explained that he didn't want to overwhelm him. He made sure to walk a little louder. He could see the distant look behind Color's blank eyes.
But he noticed something else - Beta had pointed it out - that concerned him. Color was fidgeting with his hands, pacing in circles around the kitchen on his small square, keeping his eyes on Delta's hands the entire time.
Color nervously glanced at the food. He barely remembered what it was like to eat something - he didn't remember what the name or ingredients of what Delta was making, but made sure that the other wasn't adding any pills or something strange.
Color still wasn't sure if he was safe. Could Delta be trusted? What if this is a trap? Are they going to poison him? Would Core allow that? What if they're the one who suggested it?
Upon seeing Color work themselves up again into another panic, Delta quietly offered for him to come help, if he wanted. He didn't want to make his roommate uncomfortable, but it was clear neither of them knew quite what to do.
Color was startled out of his thoughts, quickly looking up to Delta as he froze in place again. He could barely think, but after a few minutes of debate, he decided to learn about whatever Delta was doing.
As he cautiously approached, Delta made sure Color could see all the ingredient lists and what he was using, how he was using it and where it belonged in his organized mess of a kitchen.
Color had no idea what to do with any of the items, or what they were. And despite not knowing if Delta would tell the truth or not, he decided to ask.
Delta was visibly surprised by this, but made space for Color on the counter and patiently explained the process of making a sandwich, including all the ingredients. They weren't sure if it would be too much for Color to handle, but tried to help anyways.
Color was quick to learn. When he wanted to taste the items first before he put it on his sandwich, Delta didn't stop him. He made sure to separate his sandwich from Color's for sanitary reasons, though.
As they observed from their seat on the windowsill, Core couldn't help but smile. They knew they had made the right choice to pair these two together in spite of their differences.
After the boys had finished making the sandwiches, Delta let them sit anywhere in the apartment as he gave Core their sandwich.
To their surprise, Color scarfed his sandwich down in mere seconds. Delta was worried he'd choke, but somehow he didn't.
After making sure Color wasn't sick from eating so fast, Delta offered to make him another sandwich. Color frantically agreed.
As Delta got up to make him another sandwich, Color stood and asked if he could do it. He truly meant no offense, but he just didn't trust Delta enough to let him make the food.
Core smiled. And, as to not startle Color, they announced their leave.
The two bid Core their goodbyes, and Core left silently as Delta continued to teach Color how to make a sandwich.
And despite Color's clear distrust and fear, the two had been inseparable ever since.
Of course, their relationship has had its ups and downs over the few months they had known each other.
It was certainly an experience for Delta when he first found Color on the kitchen floor, sleeping peacefully with the lights dimly lit up.
Delta, having thought the poor guy was fully unconscious, immediately tried to wake him up while frantically calling the doctors in charge of Color's care at two in the morning.
Color woke up quickly, startled and hostile, kicking and screaming in shock. Delta had jumped back, but breathed a sigh of relief - and hung up after telling the doctors that Color was alive.
That night turned into a long conversation, which led to them helping Color get situated in his new room with the offer of full control over it. The doctors came by to check on them about 15 minutes later, but once they judged that Color was safe, they left.
Another late night memory that Color happily reminisced on was a comforting reminder that he was no longer alone - Delta had caught him playing chess by himself at 1 am, muttering his moves to himself.
Delta, who was somehow both the lightest and deepest sleeper that Color had ever known (even though they were his only friend), was awoken by mutterings coming from the couch.
And upon investigating, visibly concerned of what he would find, he was relieved to see Color.
Delta had asked what he was doing, making Color flinch at the interruption. But when he explained, Delta, in his half-asleep state, managed to say that he didn't have to play alone anymore because Color had him now.
Against his better judgement, he offered to play with him. Color thought for a moment, but accepted.
They both managed to fall asleep as they played chess, waking up on the couch as the warm beam of sunlight gently awoke them from their peaceful slumber.
And it was definitely fun to remember how he had met Beta for the first time - the day he realized that he wasn't alone in having a human Soul with him.
They had walked in on Delta and a glowing orange outline of a body softly talking early in the morning - it sounded like they were talking about some kind of dream. By the tone, Color could tell the spirit sounded nervous as Delta made him some kind of drink that Color didn't recognize.
When he called out to them, the two flinched and swiveled around - but upon seeing him, relaxed.
Color remembered asking who the figure was.
The two looked startled, glancing at each other, before the spirit turned back to Color with the biggest grin he had ever seen.
Excitedly, the kid introduced himself as Beta, explaining who he was and why. He was thrilled that Color could see him - he thought no one other than Delta could! He was so excited!
Delta tried to calm his kid down, not wanting him to overwhelm Color. But for the first time, Color felt something stirring inside of him as the spirits in his head managed to force him to say hi.
A few who were more powerful were able to make themselves into spirits to say hello. Beta was practically jumping up and down when he saw that.
That was probably his favorite 3 am experience with Delta.
He remembered his first panic attack in the house, when Delta had gone out to buy groceries early before work as to not wake up Color. He remembered frantically calling Delta, in tears when the other picked up.
Within seconds, Delta had managed to steal the cart with the groceries still in it, slap a $50 on the counter for the cashier, and teleport home - where he literally slipped on the floor and dragged the cart down with him on total accident.
Yet still, once they managed to get up somehow unharmed, they left the groceries on the ground so they could run to help Color.
He remembered when an ignorant Monster had decided to challenge Color's flames, mocking his body. He remembered the shame and humiliation - and how it quickly turned to utter shock when he saw Delta clock him in the jaw, breaking it almost instantly and knocking the man out.
Color remembered the way Delta had grabbed his hand, quickly pulling him up from his seat in the Cafe and began to run. They ran all the way back to their apartment practically at the speed of light, and when they got in and locked the door, they took a moment to breathe.
They looked at each other, still in mild shock that that had just happened. But then they immediately burst into laughter, in awe that no one had stopped them or caught them yet.
(They got caught later that week cause the guy who got his ass beat saw Delta visiting Color in the hospital during one of his more frequent checkups. He bitched to Core about it and Delta got a earful from the kid. Color couldn't stop laughing.)
He remembered one of the many times when the sheer emptiness of the walls had trapped his mind into thinking he was back in the VOID - alone, cold, and scared.
Thankfully, Delta was home at the moment. He rushed to help as usual, bringing Color back to reality.
And for the first time, Color began to speak.
He spoke about the VOID. The darkness. The same dull scenery, a memory long forgotten and yet forcefully re-experienced every single day.
That was when Delta decided to paint the walls.
He let Color help, of course. He allowed Color to pick out the paint, while he went to find the paint brushes - they remained in each other's sight the whole time, not daring to stray too far.
Color ended up picking out a blue-teal color, and once they had gotten home, they began to rearrange the furniture momentarily so they could protect the floor and such.
It took about three days to paint, which was a bit longer than either had planned. But in those three days, they had begun to talk, both sharing their respective stories about how they had gotten here.
Delta was much more open about it than Color was. But Color, being intuitive as ever, noticed that Delta never went into specific details - he only managed to say that things happened, and instead preferred to go on about his adventures fighting bad guys in the multiverse.
Color asked, once. Out of curiosity. He had asked why Delta had chosen to do that of all things.
Delta managed a quick response. It was witty, Color gave him that, but based on the guilt and hidden shame in their eyes, he knew it wasn't the full truth.
He asked if something had happened to make him not want to talk about it.
Delta dodged the question by changing the subject.
They didn't bring it up again.
He remembered the first time he had recieved a hug from Delta. It was during a panic attack, where Color was doubting his reality and everyone around him, desperately reaching out for anything to keep ahold of.
Delta could see the despiration in his eyes. The desperation to be loved, seen, wanted, remembered. He saw it. Without much thinking, they held him, drawing him close in one swift movement.
It was magical. Color truly had no idea what he had been missing until he had it - but he wasn't ready to let it go missing again.
He remembered collapsing into Delta's arms, sobbing into his chest as he desperately clung to him while Delta coaxed him down gently.
After about two hours of calming him down, Delta was allowed to make the mistake of attempting to let go. Color refused.
Luckily, Delta learned quickly, and did not attempt to let go until Color was ready. Color stayed attached to his hip for the rest of the day, terrified that if he let go, it would never return.
And during some of their late night talks, sometimes Delta would say that he couldn't remember a time where he didn't know Color. Days all blended together - unless something particularly exciting happened that set it apart from the other days.
Color wished he could say the same.
But in these months, these three fresh months, never had he felt so exhilarated and overwhelmed at the same time.
Every moment with Delta was precious. Delta had even managed to score Color a job at the same place so that he'd feel less alone - and would be able to adjust better.
Delta had always been the stronger one of of the two of them - from how he carried himself, to the way he'd threaten violence at any given second if someone so much as dared to breathe incorrectly in Color's direction. It was clear he was capable of great violence. Especially with how much he bragged about his fights in the past.
Color had never been more grateful to find a friend who was willing to tolerate his codependency. And Delta happily entertained it - they would never dare to admit it, but they were incredibly lonely.
And Color had learned how to carry himself, too - how to carry himself with utmost confidence, ensuring no one would dare to doubt him (except himself). He learned how to get away with most things, lying flawlessly without guilt if it was necessary. He learned that it was okay to ask for help when he needed to, when he wanted to. He learned how to love himself, even if it was just a little bit.
He learned how to interact with his Souls and Beta, and how to accept them as his reality. He learned how to be reckless and how to fight, but to also calculate and plan out moves and escapes when necessary. He learned that although life wasn't kind or safe all of the time, he had the power to make it a little kinder and a little safer - if not for himself, then for others.
He learned that for once, he had power and control over himself and his surroundings. He learned to apologize for mistakes and move on instead of deflecting them, and that it was okay to be angry and process the trauma that had been caused to him.
He had learned so much in these three months with them.
He remembered how he had doubted Delta at first, as he watched silently, analyzing every move and what it meant. Delta carried himself with nothing less than reckless confidence, so much so that no one dared to doubt him - even when he was blatantly wrong about something.
But when Delta showed him the kindness of acceptance, he doubted him a bit less each time. It didn't take too long for Color to feel comfortable enough to trust him with important things - buying and making the food, getting water, keeping them entertained and safe. Such simple things to Delta were the most important things to Color.
Yes, these memories and experiences were the core of their relationship - his favorites by far. But these dreamy memories of his were cut short by a sudden loud clang, triggering a harsh memory of when Delta had awoken to Color screaming after he accidentally hurt himself while making a late night snack.
The blood gushed out of his palm as the knife clattered to the ground, as Color frantically began to hyperventilate at the sight of his own blood.
Delta sprinted out of his room, running straight at Color as he managed to dial for help at the same time. How his hands were so steady as he sprinted at full force, Color still couldn't figure out.
He dragged Color to the bathroom, immediately beginning to hold it above Color's Soul to help stop the bloodflow as Delta got a tourniquet above the wound, on his wrist. He quietly reassured Color that the ambulance was on its way. His hands lit up in a soothing green glow, as they gently held his palm close.
He remembered the pure fear in Delta's eyes as he forcefully woke himself up, trying to hide it as they comforted Color. They whispered kind words of reassurance, holding him close as they let him cry on their shoulder.
He remembered when he was half asleep in the hospital bed, that Delta was sobbing as quietly as he could. Color couldn't hear it - but when he tried to roll his head over to look at Delta, he saw the other keeping their head down, shaking lightly as they breathed deeply, trying to hold it all in.
That was the first, and only, time that he had ever seen Delta get so scared that he cried. And it killed him to know that it was his fault his friend was crying.
In the morning, when Color woke up, Delta had clearly been awake. He wasn't sure if they had slept at all. They did not talk about the tears of last night, rather opting to check in on Color and his wound.
They did not bring it up again. And Color vowed to never make that kind of mistake again.]
Color jolted awake, with a short gasp for air as the loud, shattering clang echoed through the apartment.
His mind raced as he tried to figure out if he was still dreaming or not. He rushed to check his palm, only to see the wound closed up and scarred.
A thud followed.
His heart skipped a beat, as his body began to move without thinking. Within seconds, Color had ran from his bed to the kitchen...
... to find Delta collapsed on the ground, a pile of broken glass surrounding him.
His eyes were blank, a dull shade of the usual bright orange that greeted Color when he woke up. His expression held nothing of its normal composure, as his body slumped towards the ground on his knees.
Color froze, his eyes widening as he felt his Soul drop into his nonexistent stomach.
What the fuck?
What just happened?!
"Delta...?" His voice trembled as he spoke softly. He didn't want to startle the other.
No response.
[Is he sleep walking again? How did this even happen?] Color thought, slowly moving closer. He examined his roommate, checking for any external injuries, but there were none.
So, cautiously, Color reached out to lightly shake Delta's shoulder.
Still, no response.
Color's breathing began to get shaky as his mind raced with terrifying possibilities as to why they could be acting like this. Did something happen? Are they hurt? Were they dying? Did they need to go to the hospital? Was it even really them?
Delta wasn't even blinking. And with his hand now hesitantly resting on their shoulder, Color couldn't feel them breathing, either.
Color flinched when he realized that there was not a single movement from Delta. No flinching, no startle, not even breathing. Nothing.
He shook his roommate a little more aggressively, his breath catching in his throat as he desperately called out for him, "Delta?! Hey, come on, wake up!"
The harder Color shook him, the closer he got to getting Delta to snap out of it, even if it was just a little.
Finally, Color got desperate enough to smack him on the shoulder as hard as he felt comfortable.
As the hit landed, Delta's hand shot up and grabbed Color by the wrist, making the other flinch and gasp lightly in shock.
Delta's empty stare turned to Color, making him shiver.
He spoke softly, calling out to him, "Delta?"
Delta still gave no response. Didn't even blink. But after a minute, he slowly released Color's wrist from his grip. His hand dropped back down, hanging limply at his side.
Color was startled at how motionless it was. There was such little weight to his grip - nothing at all like he was used to. As his voice still shook, he called out again, "Delta?... can you hear me? Are you- can you answer me, please?"
He pleaded.
Luckily, he got a blink this time.
Color felt a bit relieved, at least knowing that Delta was awake now. But still, he awaited some kind of response, anything at all.
Their blank, empty stare was unnerving. There was absolutely nothing behind their eyes - just like the rest of their expression.
They tried to speak. Nothing came out.
Color's eyes widened in horror. "Delta?! Hey, hey, what's wrong? Is- is something wrong? Are you hurt? Why can't you speak? Did you-"
"I'm fine." An empty, desolate voice muttered in response.
Color flinched back, ripping his hand off of Delta's shoulder.
No. This wasn't him. This- this can't be him, right? It barely even sounds like him!
No, it can't possibly be. His eyes are too dull, voice too bleak. He wasn't even wearing his usual clothes, Color noticed. He was wearing a tank top, no gauntlets on, and black shorts and socks.
He had seen Delta sleep in those clothes before, but now it just looked wrong. Like it wasn't really them.
Was he having another nightmare?
Was this real?
There's no way this was Delta. There's just no way! There was no spark, no energy, no emotion, nothing! It was honestly creeping him out.
Seeing his brightest - and only - friend so lifeless just... wasn't right.
The Souls inside his head spoke softly, discussing what they should do to snap Delta out of it, if there was even anything they could do about it. Color listened to the options, but they all eventually agreed to try to talk to Beta first - see if he knew what was going on.
"Beta? Kiddo, you there?" Color called out, eyeing the time. It was around 3 in the morning. Surely the kid would be asleep, but maybe he could wake him up.
No response. But upon hearing his name get called out, Delta's eyes seemed to glaze over even more as their orange color slowly drained into white.
His eyes went wide as he helplessly watched all the color dissappear from their eyes.
"... okay. So that didn't work. Let's just... take him out of the glass." Color muttered to himself, slowly moving closer to Delta again.
Cautiously stopping outside of the ring of glass, Color reached down and grabbed Delta by the arms. Then, he slowly pulled him up, and dragged him out of the glass. He managed to lift them high enough to get him safely out of the ring.
Delta's body practically collapsed into Color, startling the other entirely. His whole body was just limp in Color's arms.
What was going on with them?
After adjusting the other, Color picked him up fully, and carried him over to the couch.
He gently lowered Delta onto the couch, having him lay down on his side in case anything happened. He sat on the ground in front of them.
There was a long moment of silence, before Delta spoke again.
"Are you here?" They murmured, staring emptily at the wall.
Color was surprised, but quickly nodded, "Yeah, I'm here, Del. I'm right here. Can you talk? What's going on?"
Delta tried to speak again, but nothing came out. So, slowly, they forced their arms to move up and began to sign.
'I'm sorry.'
Color was taken aback.
"... sorry for what?" He asked softly, moving a bit closer.
'I messed up. I failed.'
"What do you mean?"
'I hurt them. I couldn't save them.'
"Who couldn't you save?"
'You know.'
Color paused. Who was Delta talking about? Did they even know it was him?
"Do you know it's me, Delta?"
Delta paused for a moment. In truth, they really didn't know. But they felt the Bravery Soul nearby, and assumed it was Beta. 'Yes.'
Color breathed a sigh of relief. "Alright. But, who are you talking about?"
'Frisk.'
Color froze.
"... what do you mean? How did you fail them?" He murmured, looking over Delta's body language. But there was nothing to look at.
'They died. You know that. Don't make me say it, please.'
"Did you... have a dream about them?" Color asked, desperately trying to figure out what was going on. Why this sudden memory? And why now, of all times?
'Yeah. Was hurt again.'
"I'm sorry to hear that."
'Nothing we can do about it.'
"Do you... wanna talk about it?"
'I failed them. I couldn't save them. I killed them. It's all my fault.'
There was a long pause in their conversation. Hesitantly, Color asked, "... is something else bothering you?"
'I can't do it anymore.'
Color froze, his eyes slowly widening in terror as his Soul skipped a beat. "Wh-what do you mean by that?"
'He's hurting and I can't make it better. I'm failing him.'
The air around them held still as Color silently stared into Delta's dull eyes.
"... what?" He shakily reached to cover his mouth, absolutely horrified.
'I wanna help him so bad. But there's nothing I can do. I can't do anything right.'
"Hold on-"
'He hurts cause I can't make it any better. It's all my fault. I don't wanna fail him like the others, but I guess I'm not much good at protecting, either.'
"Delta."
'What do I have if I can't help him? Nothing. Got nothing. He got taken here so someone could help, and I can't even do that right.'
"Delta!" Color desperately tried to shake him awake, as tears pricked his eyes. What was going on? Did they really feel this way?
'It's all my fault. He's hurting and it's all my fault. Maybe they should put him with someone better. He deserves better than me.'
"Delta, listen to me-"
'First I hurt Frisk, and then Paps, and now I hurt him. Why can't I do anything right? Why can't I do what I'm supposed to? I wanna help but I keep hurting people. I'm so stupid.'
"Hey!-"
'I'm worthless if I can't help him. I have no use. They only like me when I can be useful, and I can't even do that right now. I'm such a burden. What is wrong with me?-'
"STOP!"
Delta stopped, as Color's chest heaved, breathing shakily as tears dripped down his skull.
It killed him to see how much pain Delta was in. He was heartbroken. Why hadn't they told him about this? Did they really feel like this all the time? No wonder they were so stressed out, the poor guy!
But seeing the still blank look in their eyes, Color knew he had to help.
He took a deep breath, wiping his eyes as he restrained his sobs. He couldn't cry. Not now. Not while his best friend needed him.
Once Color had calmed down quite a bit, he gently cupped Delta's face, holding it in his warm hands.
As small tears still leaked from Color's eyes, he spoke, voice trembling, "Delta, I need you to listen to me, please." He pleaded softly.
Delta nodded, 'Okay.'
Color took a deep breath as he spoke, "Delta, I don't know why you think these things or if anyone made you think them, but you are not a failure. You are not a burden, not to me or anyone else.
I don't know much about you. What you've been through, what you're going through, I don't know. You've done a really good job at hiding that. You let me know what you want me to know. I can't blame you for that - I do that, too.
But I don't want you suffering in silence. I may not be the best with emotions, and I might not be the best guy to hang around sometimes, but I care about you.
I'm sorry if I ever made you feel this way. But listen to me now - I don't think that you're a failure. I don't think you're a burden, or at fault for any of the things you've been through. Okay?"
Slowly, the color began to return to Delta's eyes. But still, he signed, 'I'm sorry. I'm weak.'
"No, you're not." Color insisted sternly, gently stroking the side of Delta's skull with his thumb, "You're not weak. You're not any of the horrible things you claim you are.
You're not weak. You're not a burden. You're certainly not a failure. And you're most definetly not stupid."
There was another pause, as Color calmed himself. And gently, still cupping Delta's face with his right hand, he trailed the other to Delta's hand, which had slowly dropped back down when they had finished speaking.
Delta managed to speak. "Why?" They whispered.
Color's eyes saddened. "Well, if you really don't know... then let me tell you.
Listen, I know we've only known each other for a couple months, but... you've helped me more than anyone else ever has. You've put up with me when no one else wanted to - when even I didn't want to. But you stuck by my side, didn't leave me alone, even when I annoyed you.
You protected me. Remember when that guy at the Cafe harassed me? You punched the shit out of him and then brought me home. You didn't let him hurt me, even though you didn't know anything about me at that point.
And the nightmares? You stayed with me. You woke me up when we stayed together in your room, even let me sleep in your bed while you slept on the floor when I was too scared to be touched. And even when I woke you up screaming, you held me, calmed me down. And you never got mad! You never yelled at me, even when you had work in the morning.
And at work, whenever I was able to show up, you always protected me, made excuses for me when I couldn't show up. You always kept me safe, even when you weren't around. They knew they couldn't hurt me because you'd hurt them back, even if you got in trouble for it.
You've helped me more than you even know. You taught me how to live again - literally! I didn't even know how to eat when I first got here, but you were patient enough to teach me how to use the utensils. You even helped me wash up when I physically couldn't do it myself.
You always got me to my doctor appointments, even leaving work early to drive me there. You put up with me even when I didn't want to go, and when I exploded because I was so scared of them. And you always made sure to call the doctors when I needed help and couldn't call anyone for myself, even when I got mad at you for it.
Even when I was tired and depressed, you took care of me. You made sure I ate and bathed at the very least, even if you couldn't drag me out of the house. You did everything that you could to help me, and succeeded. No one had ever done that for me before. You were the first.
You stuck by my side, even when I got sick and got you sick in return. I didn't mean to, I still feel kinda bad about it. But you never made me feel like a burden, or like it was a mistake that you got paired with me. You've always been so good to me.
You never made me feel like an asshole, even when I acted like it. I'm sorry if I ever made you feel like this, but... you've saved me more times than I can even count.
Like that time when I was too paranoid to let anyone in the house, including you. You were patient with me and talked me down from the other side, even though I was having a panic attack because I was alone. You stayed with me until I was calm enough to use logic and let you in. And even still, you weren't mad at me! I honestly don't know how you put up with me sometimes.
And remember when I cut myself on accident that one night? You woke up and were literally at my side in seconds. And you called for help while calming me down, trying to keep me from passing out. You certainly weren't useless then, so why would you be now?
I know we didn't talk about it again after that night, but... I saw you crying when I woke up. I didn't even notice it at first - you were so quiet about it. But I saw it. And I'm sorry that I didn't say this before, but you're not weak for crying.
I'm not... even sure if that's what you're thinking right now. But in case you are, I really don't think you're weak for crying.
You never made me feel weak for crying. So why make yourself feel that way? You don't deserve that hate, even if it's coming from yourself.
I know I don't say it a lot, but I really care about you. Even when I'm scared or angry or overwhelmed with the world, you're the only good part of it. You've practically kept me sane! You've helped me in more ways than I can even count. And I certainly wouldn't call that failure, now, would I?" He smiled.
The longer Color spoke for, the more the orange spark return to Delta's eyes. And by the time he finished, Delta had come back into reality fully - having no clue what was going on or why, but appreciated being woken up from whatever had happened with fond memories and kind words.
Color smiled softly at them. "Hey, buddy. Glad you're back."
Delta nodded, propping himself up with the arm that Color wasn't holding. However, he gladly let Color's hand stay on his face, and lightly nuzzled into it, still confused, "Uh, hey... what happened? How'd I get here?" He asked softly, glancing around.
"I honestly have no idea. I heard glass breaking and saw you in the kitchen, but you weren't answering me - totally out of it. So I got you away from the glass and brought you over here. You didn't look hurt, but... you started talking, and-"
"Wait, wait, lemme stop you there. What do you mean I was in the kitchen?" Delta asked, his eyes going slightly wide as he realized that there was no lying out of this situation. He was going to have to tell Color about the episodes.
He sat up fully, making Color back up a bit and take his hand off of Delta's face. However, when he tried to let go of Delta's hand, he instead tightened his grip slightly - he didn't want to let go yet.
Color gladly obliged.
"Well, I got woken up by the glass, and saw you in the kitchen. You were on the ground and the glass was all around you. Don't know how you got there, though - your guess is as good as mine." He answered.
Delta nodded along, turning to look back into the kitchen. And sure enough, the ring of glass was still there, not yet cleaned up.
"... huh. That's really weird." They muttered.
Color couldn't help but snicker at that.  "You're telling me, man." He replied.
Delta turned back, his brain still processing all of this, "You said I woke you up? Shit, I'm sorry about that. I didn't mean to."
"Hey, no, don't worry about it. Whatever happened, didn't look like you had much control over." Color replied, smiling reassuringly. "Do you remember anything?"
"Uhh, sorta. I remember I was laying in bed, then-" a look of realization dawned on their face. "... oh."
Color tilted his head. "What?"
"... um. Okay. I got something to explain." They muttered, sighing.
Color was even more confused. He motioned for Delta to go on, and he did. "So, I had a nightmare last night. And, sometimes, when I have nightmares, I tend to... dissociate."
"Dissociate?" Color repeated. The hell did that mean? Delta hadn't taught him that word yet.
"Yeah. Um, I lose grip on reality, I'd have no clue what's going on whatsoever. That brings me to a question, though. Did I say anything weird?" Delta looked nervous even asking it.
Color thought for a moment. Would he classify those things as 'weird'? I mean, they were definetly abnormal, so maybe that's what they mean.
He nodded. "I mean, for you, kinda. I've never heard you speak that way before."
Their Soul sunk. Oh fuck. What did they say?
"Oh, that's great." He muttered sarcastically.
Unfortunately, Color didn't quite understand sarcasm yet. He quickly replied, "Not really. It was kinda scary - you started going on about a lot of things, things I didn't even know you were thinking about. Do you want me to repeat it?-"
"No."
The sudden venom in their voice was startling enough to make Color stop. He quietly examined his friend. Had he said something wrong? Were they angry at him for talking too much? Why were they upset?
But when he looked at them, instead of anger, Color saw hurt. Their face was twisted in a deep sadness, clearly having not expected things to go down like this.
They didn't talk for a good few minutes, until Delta spoke up first.
"You weren't meant to know." He muttered, staring at the ground in shame.
Color tried to say something, but Delta continued on, "I didn't tell you because I didn't want to be weak. Not when you needed someone to help you. It'd be unfair of me to burden you after you just got out of basically solitary confinement for 20 years of your life.
And after everything I've seen you go through, fuck, you've been hurting so much. And it's not your fault at all - I ain't saying that I'm uncomfortable around you or anything like that, just... didn't think I'd need to tell you so soon. I'm sorry."
Color stared up at him for a long moment, before asking, "Do you think I'm weak for needing help, Delta?"
Delta tensed, instinctively looking up with pure worry in his eyes, "What?! No, not at all!"
But before he could say anything else, Color replied in an even tone, "Then why do you think that you're weak for needing help?"
Silence.
Delta stared at him, his eyes wide as he tried to figure out if Color was joking or not - if they had said something to upset him. But when they saw the empathy in his eyes, they realized what it really meant.
"... I guess I didn't... really think of it that way." They sheepishly admitted, glancing away from him.
Color couldn't help but smile, as he moved closer. He sat on the couch, and Delta gladly made room for him. Instinctively, like Delta had done many times for him, Color slinked an arm around his shoulder and held him close.
Delta tensed at first, but eventually relaxed into Color's arms.
"That's alright. I'm not mad, obviously. Can't really get upset at you for hiding things when I haven't exactly been the most vulnerable," Color said, making them both chuckle lightly.
"But, still. If you have these problems, I wanna help. It's not fair if you only help me and I don't help you back. So let me help. Okay?" Color asked softly, smiling at him.
Delta was surprised. He wasn't used to being able to let his guard down - he never knew when it was safe to relax without worrying about someone catching him and picking a fight when he was vulnerable.
Vulnerability was not a concept he was comfortable with yet.
But as he looked deep into Color's eyes, he knew that he was safe - he didn't know why, but... something inside him was telling him that he was safe to let his guard down.
He relaxed, nodding slowly as a smile crept up on his face.  "Okay."
"You promise?"
"I promise."
"Alright. You, uh, wanna talk about it?" Color offered, still concerned.
Delta thought for a moment, but shook his head. He really didn't. He didn't want to think about it anymore.
Color nodded, "That's okay. I definetly can't blame you for that. But, if you do, let me know - I'm here to listen, alright?" He asked, gently rubbing Delta's shoulder.
Delta nodded. "I will. Thank you."
"It's no problem. Think you can go back to sleep, or do you wanna stay up? We can watch a movie, or play a game - go on a walk, if you want." Color offered, knowing that Delta would probably need different options if he wanted a distraction.
Delta thought for a long moment, quietly speaking to Beta about what to do. They settled on a movie.
"I don't think I'm ready to go back to sleep. Could we watch something?" They asked quietly.
Color nodded, "That's fine. Need anything to drink, eat?"
They shook their head, "No, I'm alright. You can get something if you want to, though."
Color paused to think. But after all of this, he decided to just get up and grab Delta some water anyways. "I'm gonna get some water. Wanna come with?"
Delta debated it for a moment, but decided to get up with him. And the two quickly stood, and walked over to the kitchen.
"Watch the glass," Color reminded him, as he used his magic to get two mugs down for them.
Delta was distracted, however, and was now focused on getting something Beta was demanding - hot chocolate.
It was always the kid's favorite drink of choice after a bad nightmare. And after a night like this, they deserved it.
Color only seemed to notice when he heard the microwave start humming. He quickly turned around, to see Delta ready with a hot chocolate packet and extra marshmallows ready.
They both just stared at each other for a moment.
"... want one?" Delta offered. Color nodded, and went over to get started on his.
It took only a few minutes to prepare it, but Color was still confused. However, he wasn't sure if it'd be okay to ask.
Delta, intuitive as ever, knew he was confused. They answered before he asked, "Tradition for Beta and I. After a bad night, we get hot chocolate."
Color nodded, smiling lightly, "Awe, that's sweet."
The two finished their hot chocolates, and quickly headed back over to the couch. They placed their mugs on the table in front of them, getting out blankets and pillows so the couch would be more comfortable.
Once they had finished setting up, Color handed Delta the remote. "You pick."
Delta nodded, thanking him. But, to Color's surprise, he immediately started looking for The Lion King.
Color quickly turned to them, making Delta chuckle lightly, a bit embarrassed. "Tradition."
He chuckled, nodding back as Delta clicked 'play'. Color slung his arm around them again, holding them close as they drank their hot chocolates and watched the movie.
After a little bit, Delta found themselves getting lulled back to sleep as their body slowly relaxed. They tried to resist, not wanting to have another nightmare, but Color gently coaxed him into it.
The rest of the night was peaceful, as Delta fell asleep in Color's arms, holding them close - keeping them safe.
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e-adlirez · 5 months ago
Text
So I once made a presentation about Thea Stilton for school
Before you ask when I did this, this was in 2023, during my last year of high school :3
So yes, this was very recent, I was very much active on Tumblr at the time, and I was very much aware of what I was doing. We were told to ramble about anything we wanted in any way we wanted (essay, TEDTalk, comic, etc.), and me being me, I knew I had to make a TEDTalk about my eleven-year-long hyperfixation, and I had just the topic for it. I spent a week making multiple drafts before cranking out the final one in time for the deadline of the script and the presentation, and I figured that since I'm still very proud of how the essay turned out, I oughta put it here :3
So this is the script of my talk, Dreams In the Cloud Castle, and spoilers for the aforementioned book, the Cloud Castle. Hope you enjoy :3
I’d like to start this talk by asking a question. Who here knows Thea Stilton, show of hands? (Response based on hands raised.) Alright, so just so everyone knows what I’m talking about, we have this mouse man named Geronimo Stilton, who has a sister named Thea Stilton, who has these students that are the actual protagonists of the Thea Stilton franchise. These students do investigation stuff in the normal world (think the Earth but mouse people), and sometimes they go to some nifty mythology realms to do investigation stuff. Got that? Good, because we’ll be talking about one of those mythological adventures, specifically the book, The Cloud Castle.
There’s a weird scene in the book’s climax where, because of circumstances, Violet, one of the main characters, saves her friend in an act of heroic sacrifice. The cost? Her dreams. The adversary she saves her friend from is this Crystal Eagle, who steals the dreams of those who look him in the eye. Such a fate is permanent, and unfortunately, such a fate has befallen Violet, who now can’t dream anymore.
But what does that mean?
Violet lost her dreams. What does that mean? This is one of those questions where you don’t realize that you don’t know the answer, until you think about it and look into it a little more than what was probably intended. Kinda like how Marvel Cinematic Universe plots start to make less and less sense the more you think about them. In this little talk, I’ll try to extrapolate an answer, and why you should care about it. I am taking up about eight minutes of your time, after all. Hopefully the argument I have for you today is a convincing one. These are dreams, what they mean, and why they’re important to us.
To understand the loss of something, one must understand what was lost. In this case, dreams. In this book’s setting, the Land of Clouds, dreams play a surprisingly important role: the fairies of this world use it to make clouds. How do we do that? Well, when a fairy sleeps, and more specifically dreams, they produce this silver thread that accumulates on their nightstand. When the fairy wakes up, they can use it to weave clouds. They make clouds from silver thread, that is made from their dreams, and clouds are what their entire world is made of. It seems like dreams are very important to this world or something.
Now, even though this bit about dreams was about the harmless visions you see at night, isn’t this similar to how we use our goals and aspirations in real life? We dream, that is to say we aspire to a certain goal, and with that goal, we create. We create something that inevitably becomes a part of the world we live in: construction, technology, music, art– all of these, I’d argue, are important to our society, and all of these things come from here. Isn’t that a powerful thing to have?
Now that we’ve talked about dreams, let’s talk about that hypothetical: the idea of losing your dreams, and the ability to dream. What does that mean? Well, think back to what I said earlier. The fairies’ nightly visions and their ability to have them allow them to create. Our goals and our ability to reach for them allow us to create. The fairies’ purpose is to turn their dreams into clouds. Our purpose in life is dependent on what we want to do with our lives, which is directed by our dreams, our goals. Without our dreams, without our goals, without our aspirations… Who are we if not lost?
Actually, let’s explore this thought experiment a little further. Think about this: Why do we do things? Besides the essentials for survival, why do we do things at all? Because someone else told you to do it? Well, why did they tell you to do that? Because someone else told them? Eventually, this will all circle back to a first person who had some sort of motivation, some sort of dream. The Merriam-Webster definition of a dream is “a strongly desired goal or purpose”. Desiring something can already call it a dream. Maybe you want to run for office, or run a successful business, or make art, or make technological advancements for the good of humanity. All of these things are dreams. If we were robbed of our dreams and the ability to have them, what then? If you didn’t have any dreams, what would you create? Would you desire to create at all? You may think “this isn’t worth pondering about at all. I have my dreams, and I don’t have to deal with crystal eagles.” And yeah, you’re right. We don’t have magical birds that appear out of nowhere and steal our dreams; but what do we have? Burnout? Depression? Intrusive thoughts? If these things conquered us so thoroughly, if we stared into the eyes of the eagle for too long, to the degree that we lost sight of our dreams… I ask again, who are we?
When I read the segment that ensued after Violet lost her dreams for the first time, I wondered to myself what was going on in her head. It was a question that I had for the longest time, and I would scan that third act of the book again and again, to get even the tiniest glimpse into what it was like to be dreamless. I would always end up frustrated, because it seemed like Violet was doing nothing besides going along with everyone else in silence. At most, she’d make some pointless comment that contributed nothing to the conversation, let alone the plot. I originally thought that this was an act of negligence on the part of the author, or perhaps the censorship of the English publishers; but then I realized something: Violet was doing nothing. When she walked through the Hall of Mirrors that she previously said she was scared of, all she could say was that her reflections looked pale. When the girls were presented with a pick-the-door riddle, Violet didn’t give a single word of insight. When the girls finally discovered the reason why the fairies can’t make clouds, Violet didn’t react at all. Violet was doing nothing. Throughout the entire third act of the story, Violet was doing nothing. She wasn’t even making a productive conversation. And how could she make anything in that state of mind, where it is impossible to dream, impossible to create, impossible to… do anything?
After this epiphany, I thought about a scenario where she returned to her home below the clouds dreamless. She’s a naturally creative person– would she be able to make art while she was dreamless? Would she be able to write, make music, play music at all? Since dreams in this case denote ambition or motivation, and Violet’s condition is the antithesis of that, would she be able to do anything at all? If we were put in a similar situation that could happen in real life, would we be able to do anything at all? If we were fortunate enough to lose the dream but not the ability to dream, how would we process the situation? How would we deal with it? How would we get through it? Would there come a moment where we can reach for something again? Or would we be stuck like that forever, wandering aimlessly for the rest of our lives?
Thank Queen Nephele’s plot-convenient healing crystal that Violet got better.
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lowkeyrobin · 6 months ago
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Hawk x sensitive!reader where even after he becomes all "tough" and "badass" he's still gentle with reader. I just need fluff and everything is so sickly sweet like I want my teeth to rot.
- ♠️
(again i forgot which one it was)
YES OMG ☹️☹️☹️☹️ ; I'm screaming and crying were gonna fight wtf ; thank u for requesting some cobra kai stuff love u bae ; also sorry ab this cause I had no idea what to do here
HAWK MOSKOWITZ ; the one i love
summary ; while hawk is off becoming mean and badass, he's still nice to you, knowing you're kind of sensitive, and he doesn't want to lose his s/o
warnings ; language, talk of physical violence
track ; dedicated to the one i love, the mamas & the papas
word count ; 849
masterlist
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Eli, these past few months, had changed. A lot. You didn't know whether you liked it or not either. He wasn't even Eli anymore, he was Hawk.
He'd taken on karate, got a new haircut, and completely changed his demeanor and personality. You couldn't lie, he looked cool, especially while showing off his moves, but what wasn't cool was him getting into unnecessary drama.
You'd seen some things online, though you tend not to stick around for any of it. You were caught up by Eli himself, considering you did online school. The bullying from Sam LaRusso and her friends had gotten too bad long ago, forcing you to hide away for the rest of your high school career.
You considered this transition good for Eli, as he was turning a new page in his story. He was able to defend himself, he was confident, and he wasn't being bullied anymore. But, at the same time, he was unrecognizable.
It wasn't in a bad way, not yet, at least. But this "Hawk" guy, wasn't your boyfriend, Eli. You fell into the arms of Eli Moskowitz, not Hawk.
Thankfully, he knew how to retain his relationship. Thank God his standards didn't raise, nor did his ego, as he changed.
You were slightly sensitive, you'd say, kind of emotional, mentally thin, maybe.
You had a bad day, though. That's all that mattered in this second.
You were trying to deep clean your room because it was nasty, and you were already mad. Nothing was working how you wanted it to. Your grades were dropping because you were becoming depressed and unmotivated, and you just wanted to see your boyfriend again. But of course, he'd been busy with karate and working out.
You yell out of pure frustration as you throw a pillow across the room toward your door before crashing onto your bed.
"Ow"
You quickly look up to see Eli standing in your doorway, having been hit by that pillow.
"Fuck, sorry" You mumble, proceeding to hide your face in another pillow that lays on your bed.
He slowly and cautiously steps in your room, picking up the thrown cushion. "What's wrong?"
"...Bad day"
He frowns, "What's wrong?"
You look up at him, spiky hair immediately catching your attention. "Can you wash out the gel before talking to me? You're intimidating looking like a badass"
He chuckles with a nod, "Yeah, I'll be right back"
You couldn't stand the mohawk. It intimidated you, like you were gonna be the next victim of his karate moves. He understood as you'd been honest about it long ago, and would often wash out his hair in the sink and use a towel to then dry his hair.
Now, his roots were dark brown, while the midsection to ends were bright blue. You'd helped him dye it, the reasoning why the bathroom sink was just barely stained with blue in the bowl.
He re-enters the room, his hair now damp, but un-styled. He sits on the bed beside you, allowing you to sit in silence with a pillow pressed against your face.
You slowly pull it away, looking up at him. You flop your back onto your mattress, staring at the ceiling.
"What's up?" He asks, his eyes gazing upon your tired and stressed expression.
You shrug, sitting up. "I hate online school, I have essentially no friends or hobbies, my proctors are shoving thirty assignments on me while I'm depressed and I need to do a million fucking other things-"
He quickly pulls you into a hug, silencing you. You accept his hug, arms draped around his shoulders as you rest your head on one of his shoulders. He does the same for you, his arms slung around your torso instead.
You groan, hiding your face from the light.
He lightly rubs your back, just trying to show you some comfort.
He speaks up after a solid minute of silence, letting you calm yourself down. "Do you want to get into karate? Or at least meet my friends? A lot of them would really like to meet you"
You shrug, unsure.
"It's okay if you don't want to"
You shrug again, your words mumbled from between his shoulder. "What if they don't like me cause I'm not like them?"
He smiles, a light chuckle escaping his lips. "Trust me, they're not gonna make fun of you or not like you in any way unless you give them a reason. And that in itself is pretty much impossible"
You nod, "Thanks"
"Is there any way I can help with your school stuff? What needs done? What can I do for you?"
"Calm down, Eli. I'll be fine. It's just when there's a lot on my mind, I stress out for no reason I guess. Like, I know everything'll be okay but... I dunno" You shrug, pulling away from his arms. "But thank you"
He nods, laying down on the bed beside you. "You tired? I am"
You nod with a smile, pulling him close to cuddle with him.
"Agh- your grip is insane!"
"Sorry"
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haziells · 4 days ago
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my way
until it reaches the void state
(this will be a long post)
1. the end, the beginning.
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I knew about the law of attraction years ago thanks to social media, so there it was, like every day trying to manifest my desires.
I was fed up, every day was the same.
My heart healing and breaking everyday, the same cycle of hope and hopelessness continues.
was it always going to be like this?
would I always have to let fears take over me?
I couldn't trust, I didn't believe that just by believing I could get what I wanted but at the same time I had no other option.
I couldn't go on like this, I didn't want to go on like this, I just wanted to end my life, I gave up and cried, cried, cried thinking that this would be the end, that I wouldn't be able to be happy and that was it.
I gave up and thought I was resigned to living a shitty life.
But I cried so much that all the sadness that was in me came out, all the fears that were clinging to me came out.
That's when I felt peace, when I realized that no, I wasn't going to give up that easily, that I first have to do it and do it well, not keep trying.
So I persisted for only 2 days, as I already had my desire for that moment and yes, after 2 days my 3D had already reflected it, it was exciting.
did i reallt do that? was it just a coincidence?
No, it was really me.
I was happy for a few days until the fears returned but this time I was afraid of losing my desire, that's when I realized that fears have no meaning.
I already have it, why would I lose it?
2. I discovered Tumblr and the void state.
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I didn't know what void state was, but as soon as I read about it, it caught my attention.
By then my self-concept had improved, I was still dealing with my fears but not as much as before.
So, I made a friend who explained to me more about the void state and she told me that she manifested her house through the void state.
I got excited and hopeful, I read some methods on how to get in and tried to do it, but I couldn't.
I couldn't do it, the simple idea of getting everything so easily sounded easy and fantastical to me.
But one day I realized who I really am, that I am everything, that nothing and no one has power outside of me.
I was filled with satisfaction, joy, peace, I felt like laughing knowing who I am and how easy everything is.
How did I first enter the void state?
so I had a subliminal audio playing in the background while I was meditating.
I thought...I am so powerful, I am capable of anything, I can have whatever I want whenever I want.
At that time I was very sleepy because I had taken some exams, so I just thought "my physical body is going to sleep and rest and I'm going to the void state"
After all, the void state is me and there is nothing easier than being me.
And so it happened, I entered the void state and knew that I already had everything just as I wanted, then I came out and continued sleeping while I didn't stop smiling and feeling a sensation of peace and extreme happiness.
I woke up and stood calmly until I realized what had happened...
I was scared shitless when I realized that I had entered the void state for real and that at that moment I should have everything I wanted and that was when 3d reality disappeared before my eyes.
Everything began to collapse and I felt a huge current of energy running through my entire body, as if it were a waterfall flowing inside me.
I was very scared, I won't deny it, but after all I did it.
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(I swear that just as you see in the gif, that's how I felt at that moment)
The following days I couldn't stop shaking and feeling scared because I didn't understand how it was possible that 3D could disappear just like that.
Then I read someone here talking about non-dualism. @lotusmi
Then I understood my experience.
Since that day everything is much easier for me.
I have entered the void state 3 times.
that manifests?
.cure my depression.
.cure my anxiety.
.trust myself.
.longer eyelashes.
.my desired person in love with me.
.money.
.be able to manifest easily.
.prettiest voice.
.I am spoiled.
The rest of the things I manifest are more private.
But basically for me this is the best thing that could have happened to me.
I will mention who were the bloggers that I read to understand more about the void state and about who I really am.
@gorgeouslypink
@lotusmi
@beesfairlyland
@msperfect777
I will also mention a blogger whose information I also like and I find it cute.
@sugarplumfairy777
If you want to know more, you can send me a direct message, no problem.
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plethorawrites · 5 days ago
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How the Batboys would react to finding out and dealing with you self harming/having severe depression.
TW: Mentions of cuts, blood, suicidal thoughts, incorrect use of pills, sort of implied eating disorders.
Please don't read if this could upset you in any way.
---___---___---___---___---___---___---___---___---_
Bruce:
The first time he notices is also the first time you spend the night. The lights were dark and you were both a bit buzzed after downing several glasses of champagne to endure a boring event he invited you to as an excuse to see you. Of course he was more concerned with kissing the inside of your thighs than noticing the little healed scars on them.
He notices them the next morning though, when the sun is streaming through the window and you get up to find your clothes while assuming he's asleep. He wasn't. He saw the marks. The scars. He refrained from saying a word about them, waiting weeks for you to open up about them on your own terms. He could see they were healed so he wasn't terribly worried at that moment.
When you finally told him, you said you'd been clean for months. He had no reason to suspect you would start again.
But you did.
He didn't know the exact day, or the specific reason, all he knew is that you stopped wearing shorts to bed and stopped letting him leave the lights on to see you when you were intimate. You stopped smiling as often, too.
Of course, being a detective, he can tell when you start getting lethargic, not from work or stress but simply life itself. He hears when your words have less meaning, and your expressions are false. He makes it his mission to not let you fall into the spiral any more than you already have.
You might not want to tell him you're hurting yourself but he'd be damned if he didn't do whatever he could to make you stop. That started by holding you tighter at night so you couldn't sneak off to the bathroom to cut, he'd ask you to visit him at work, insist on every meal being at a restaurant so you didn't even have time to try to hurt yourself. And of course, he helps with the tasks you start struggling with, but pretends he doesn't notice.
He just says "Can I practice braiding your hair so I can help Cassandra?" and use it as a chance to make sure you don't start letting your hair tangle.
He even makes the braid a bit crooked even though he can French braid perfectly, just to sell it. He'll wash it, too, claiming it's: "A good excuse to spend time together." after a long day.
He just wants to make sure it's not getting greasy. He can see the guilt on your face when you sit in the tub, staring at the wall. You wanted to tell him to stop, that you could wash your own hair. But you probably couldn't. It felt like too much work and you just wanted to sink underneath the water of the tub for a few minutes of peace. He kept you upright though, kissing the back of your shoulder, the side of your neck, your cheek, making you hum.
You weren't able to feel much, emotionally speaking, but you could feel gratitude and love.
When he notices you skipping meals because you can't drag yourself to the kitchen or bother to cook, he will. He'll make anything, even if you change your mind about what sounds good and make him cook six different dishes before eventually accepting one of them. He doesn't care. He just wants you to eat. The second you show the slightest bit of interest in something, anything, it's yours. You make a comment about the beach sounding nice, the next thing you know he's taken the day off work and is driving you there with the top of a convertible down.
You say you kind of miss one of your old hobbies— be it painting or crochet, it doesn't matter what, the next day the nicest stuff for you to get back into it arrives. Fresh paints, massive canvases or imported yarn and crystal hooks. He watches, intently when you start to focus on something you like again, the heavy ache in his heart subsiding when he gets to show enthusiasm about your project when it's done.
You start holding him again at night, your face buried in his chest instead of sleeping facing the wall. One night you slide into bed wearing shorts and he can see your scars, red ones among the old faded pale ones from when you first met.
He knows they'll heal too in time. Just like you have.
---
Dick: He doesn't realize there's anything wrong several months into dating you until he catches you taking some pills when he was walking back into the room and later searched up the name, figuring out they're antidepressants.
He can't believe he didn't see it sooner and hates that you were always putting on a fake smile with him. He wants you to talk about it, but understands that it's hard for you too and your every attempt to open up to him ends with you in tears or walking out in frustration because the words won't form.
He suggests (very strongly) that you see a therapist and after some gentle coaxing, you agree. He sits in the car the entire time waiting for you and when you come out, numb for a few minutes as you sit there in silence before sobbing uncontrollably for the 20 minutes in the parking lot. He gets you whatever you want after— ice cream, cheesecake, brownies. Whatever you're craving.
He takes you every week, sometimes multiple times a week. He never complains and he's ALWAYS there. He'll wake up early, even if he barely slept. He'll skip family lunch, he'll rush out of a bank robbery just shouting for his brothers to handle it without him. It doesn't matter what, he'll be there.
He's taken to heavy positive affirmations, as well. He puts sticky notes up in the bathroom with smiley faces for whenever you brush your teeth or put on moisturizer. There are little hearts and words of encouragement on the front of the fridge and inside of it too for when you manage to crave a snack. Hopefully something healthy like fruit, but even if it's junk food, it's better than an empty stomach.
Every morning he wakes you up and tells you you're beautiful and he's grateful to have you.
He likes to remind you not to push yourself as well. "If you just manage to wash your hair, you'll have done something" and "If that's too hard, I'll help you make the bed." But also..."If you don't do anything at all today, you still survived. That alone is difficult, but you're doing it."
Every night he lays it on even thicker because he knows it gets harder at night. "I'm so proud of you for making it through another day." And... "I know it sucks right now but I promise I'll help you get through this." And... "Just take it one day at a time."
When you get homework from your therapist— to do 3 hard tasks over one week, make a list of every negative and positive thought to see them out loud and deduce why you have them, physical exercise—he does it with you. No matter how foolish or seemingly simple it is.
Your therapist told you to do something you struggle with? Done. He'll stand behind you while you do the dishes and help you dry.
You need to get something from a store that's dozens of miles away? Road trip. He'll buy the snacks and take turns driving so you don't het stressed out burn out.
You're told to get some physical exercise? He'll be your partner for whatever kind you want to do. Jogging in the park, keeping a slower pace than usual for you, practicing on rings while you climb the stairmaster—he falls, because he's distracted by your ass. But that's besides the point.
When you start to show signs of feeling better, that therapy is working, he's elated. And after several months and things are better, much better, you tell him whenever you're feeling off. Whenever that nagging feeling comes back over you. You guys work through it then and there to keep it from getting bad again.
Though sometimes, when he's leaving for work, you'll pout and say you feel sad just to get him to stay. You both know it's not a depressed feeling. You just don't want him to leave and he'll indulge you. "Oh, well, if that's the case, I'll just have to stay in bed with you until you feel better."
---
Jason: He's busy. Always. But that didn't mean he was oblivious. Yet, that's exactly how he felt when he realized you'd been abusing your medicine. He knew after the first few dates that you were on medication for chronic depression and he was more than understanding about it. Millions of people suffered from it, himself occasionally included.
But when he's laying in bed and catches you sneaking into the bathroom to take three more pills than you're supposed to, he's caught off guard. Then you slide down to the floor, sitting crisscrossed, making small cuts on your thighs, wincing in pain the entire time. It takes every ounce of self control not to jump out of bed and rip the blade from your hand. He contemplates it, he really does. But that would just make things worse. So he waits.
It keeps him up all night, though he pretends to sleep. And in the morning, you're back out of bed, taking more and sliding back in bed, pretending to wake up just like him.
He blames himself entirely.
He thinks he should have been better, done more, noticed something that made it better. It was his job to support you and protect you and he had failed and that killed him in ways that seemed unimaginable.
After an incredibly difficult conversation where he confesses to knowing you've been filling scripts you don't need and taking more than necessary, you're both an emotional mess. But he assures you he's not leaving or angry, just scared for you. He wants to help but needs you to let him.
He absolutely dedicates himself to keeping you away from anything even remotely dangerous.
The knives in the kitchen? Gone.
Even the butter knives are plastic now.
The razors in the bathroom? Thrown out in a trashcan outside so you couldn't find them.
Even the little blade in the pencil sharpener is taken out.
He won't let you have your pill bottles either, at least not at first. He makes sure you take them everyday, morning and night, then after several weeks starts to let you handle them by yourself.
He still sneaks out of bed to count them and make sure you weren't taking more than prescribed. He insists on being the one to wrap your arms, cleaning them to make sure they don't get infected. And wiping your legs as well. He has to remind himself not to squeeze them too hard, the way he wants to.
While holding you at night he makes sure not to hurt them, even though he wants to hold you much tighter to comfort himself as reassurance you're alright. He listens, late at night when you're whispering to avoid crying. When you explain the feeling it gave you. He knows it.
Once they heal and he can hold you tighter, not as afraid of hurting you by squeezing your thighs the way he likes to. He starts kissing them each night, making sure you know they're not embarrassing or shameful.
He's got scars on most of his body; you were the one to teach them to appreciate them. If he could return the favor, he would. A thousand times over.
He tells you the same things you told him. "You made it through."
---
Tim: When you tell Tim, and by tell I mean confess after he figured it out on his own, you're surprised to find that he doesn't have much of a reaction immediately. He stays quiet, hums a little, nods along. He never interrupts but you see his eyes glazing over a bit, the way they do when the gears start turning in his head. He knew, of course, that you had depression.
He knew you hurt yourself, not in the traditional way of cutting or attempting suicide, but in much subtler ways, like forcing yourself to finish a meal even though you're full and your stomach hurts, taking boiling hot showers that leave your skin red and raw practically painful to even touch from how dry it is, making yourself stay up late and function on the fewest hours of sleep possible.
You purposely made life harder for yourself and for the most part, didn't even realize it. He did, though. What he didn't realize was the amount of medicine you'd tried, to the point you felt none of them worked, the amount of therapists and psychiatrists you had seen, the level of depression you had truly sunk to before. It hurt him to realize once you started opening up. He wanted to make that pain go away. So, he researched. Constantly.
He wants to know every single thing that can cause depression, the statistics of self harm leading to suicide, the effectiveness of different treatments or facilities. He knows every antidepressant, their side effects, their manufacturers, and dosages. He suggests inpatient care for you, but absolutely refuses to send you to someplace like Arkham.
Instead, he finds the best of the best, way out of the city, where the entire staff passed his background check, the facility was up to date on every code possible, and the rules seemed relaxed enough to let you feel like yourself while also making sure you're safe. He's allowed to visit and does so as soon as possible, even manages to get extra hours in the night. You have the best of care there, too, he knows because he can see it on your face every time he's there.
The food is wonderful, the private room you have is nice (even if you miss his warmth at night), the activities they make you do remind you of the hobbies you used to love before they became unbearable. Even therapy sessions, always private because Tim knew you wouldn't want to speak about it in a group, are rather helpful.
When you get out after a few weeks, he's right there, waiting, like always. And he's got the biggest smile because he can see immediately the light back in your eyes that he missed so much. He keeps up with some of the tactics you learned or hobbies you started while there, gladly sitting on the floor with you while you do paper mache.
He always makes sure you know you're not weak for needing help and if you ever feel like you need to go back, even just for a week, or weekend, he'll be there for you. Just like always.
---
(Aged up. I imagine you both in LOA)
Damian: It didn't take a genius to know you were a miserable person. Most people in the league of assassins were. He rather liked your level of misery, usually. It was cynical, with a touch of wit and dark humor that always made him feel seen.
It wasn't until he caught sight of a few scars on your calf that he didn't recognize that he started to realize you were more miserable than he had originally thought. You tried to play it off, claiming you got hurt in a sparring match. But that was a lot and he knew it. Because A) you never lost. And B) the cut was at an angle a sword wouldn't be able to reach unless you were the one holding it.
You clearly didn't want to talk about it, so he wouldn't make you. He was always taught that emotions were weak and even though he didn't fully believe it as he used to, he still isn't big on a lot of sentimentality. Which is fine, because you aren't either.
He still keeps a quiet, very close eye on you. Maybe you noticed, maybe you didn't. He wasn't sure. He didn't care either way. He was worried and with your recent behavior, he felt he had every right to be. You started putting in less effort during training, if you even showed up at all. He'd find you on the balcony at night, leaning your head against the railing and staring at the gardens with a blank expression.
Even the things he knew you loved— your favorite foods, the music you liked to listen to on a record player while you got ready for bed. It stopped appealing to you. The meticulous way you'd fix your hair before bed every single night abruptly stopped, too. You simply fell asleep with it as is and woke up with it tangled. You still held him at night, but it felt less like an embrace for the both of you and more like you were clinging to him like a life line.
He pays extra close attention and anytime he isn't allowed to be by your side, he makes sure someone else is. It's hard to keep you away from sharp objects, given nearly everything around them was a weapon, but he tries to get you to vent your rage by cutting training dummies and not yourself.
He also takes you to the quieter, more secluded wing, into an empty room with pillows on the floor. He makes you sit with him and meditate, which he knows is hard at first, boring and you don't have the most energy, but he holds your hand, his fingers pressed to your pulse to make sure you're listening when he tells you to take a deep breath in and think— not of what you're grateful for, like some might suggest. No. Instead of asking you what you want to live for, he asks you what you can't die without. The grudges you're holding, the projects you haven't finished, the people who are just waiting to see you fail. He won't let you let them win.
And it works. That passion and drive slowly comes back with his help and support at your side, doing your hair for you at night and making sure someone brought you a meal three times a day even if he wasn't around to make sure you ate. Your need to be the best and spite anyone who thinks you aren't returns after a while.
One night he finds you training alone, sweat dripping from your brow, your scars both won in battle and self inflicted on display. Instead of interrupting, he simply watches, admiring your form which had improved since you started picking up your sword more often. He loved watching you find your spirit again.
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district4loading · 29 days ago
Text
Just Hold Me
Twice Sana x Male reader
6K Words
Content Warning: smut, fluff, really sappy, mentions of depression and abuse, kinda unrealistic elements
Minors DNI
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A/N: I came up with the plot for this one with a friend of mine who I met on here not too long ago. Super cool guy who enjoys my fluffier fics so I didn't mind writing this one.
Please enjoy this really... really fluffy fic. More to come!!!
-
That's what Sana does, and it's why you know that she's the love of your life.
-
It's the sound of the rain hitting the glass, the endless thudding against your bedroom window that has your attention. You stare at it silently, waiting for her to join you in bed as you lay there cold and almost lifeless. There wasn't anything profound about the harsh rainfall outside, you just needed something—anything—to focus on besides your thoughts.
The rooms dark and everything just feels so heavy. It always gets like this when you're alone. You've gotten better at distracting yourself but on nights like these when there's not one single thing that feels right, it gets so hard.
So you find yourself thinking again, your eyes so empty and lost without any purpose. You were in one of your depressive episodes which came around every few months. You've been able to hide it from her for a while now. You kept a smile on your face, you were never not there for her and you found yourself only letting out your true emotions in the shower or any time you had by yourself.
(Usually in the car right after work)
Being all emotional with Sana is something you never want to do. She's too perfect, too precious, and way too pure to have to deal with the absolute train wreck that you are. Something tells you that you need to be the perfect man for her, be strong, be stoic, be a protector. It's in the back of your mind and it's so loud and persistent that you actually believe it.
You can't be there for her if you're crying in her arms about your problems 
So when you see her beautiful face come through your bedroom door, you suck in every bit of sorrow and somehow manage to force a slight smile. She shuts the door behind her and climbs into bed right where she belongs, wrapped in your arms. You get the covers over you and then there comes the warmth that you've been longing for.
Even with her here, your mind is still going and your thoughts begin to swarm. You're too stuck in your head that you don't even notice the lack of words she spoke or the eerie and unusual silence that continues while she's in bed. You only hold her tighter and for the first time tonight you hear her soft voice and it immediately brings you back to reality.
"Y/n"
You only hum in response, staring into the dark room because the position you were in didn't allow you to face each other. You were both laying on your sides, your arms wrapped around her and your chest pressed flush against her back.
Sana brings her hand up and holds yours that rested on her belly "What's going on with you?"
The tone she uses nearly breaks you. It's how concerned she sounds, how genuinely worried she is about you. "What are you talking about?" You really try to make it seem like you have no idea what she means because you know that she shouldn't have to deal with this.
"You've been coming home from work late, you barely eat, and I feel like I haven't seen you smile in weeks"
Your heart sinks as you realize that you may not have been masking it well like you thought you'd been. Not at all.
You force a chuckle "I'm smiling right now" 
She turns over to face you, the side of her face sinking into the soft pillow as she looks into your eyes with serious worry. She doesn't even crack a smile at your joke. "Stop it, I mean a genuine smile. Something's not right... I can see it in your eyes"
"It's really nothing, I promise. Works just been a little stressful"
"Is that all?" 
"I promise, princess" You reach over to move her hair out of her face, then you caress her cheek.
Sana sees the way you nod and how you're looking into her eyes as you speak. She almost believes it but she still has a feeling that there's something you're not telling her. If only you knew how frightened she is about this sudden change in you. She's watched it happen in real time and it brings this uncomfortable twisting feeling in her stomach. One that comes anytime she thinks about it.
But she reluctantly nods after staring into your eyes for a moment "Okay" Is all she says before initiating a change in position. Sana nudges you to lay on your back then snuggles herself into your side, draping her leg just over your lower abdomen. Her arm comes next, landing on your chest. Then she kisses your cheek "I hope you know that I'll always be here for you if you ever need to talk, I love you" She mumbles into your skin.
"I love you too"
Those were the last words spoken before the silence came back and stayed for good. Sana holds you tight like she thinks you might go somewhere and then she falls asleep, leaving you to think about her words. The look in her eyes is now engrained in your mind. They were almost desperate, looking to you for any answer that could give her some knowledge or anything that she can use to help you. It couldn't be more obvious that you need it.
It's killing her and you haven't noticed until now.  
-
You couldn't sleep much at all and by the morning, you found yourself solemnly sitting on the edge of your bed deep in your thoughts once again. It was getting bad. So bad that you didn't even notice when Sana woke up. The moment her eyes flutter open she almost immediately feels it in the atmosphere—the darkness accompanied by the rain knocking against the window. 
She looks over to the digital clock on the nightstand.
Five AM
"Babe?" Sana mumbles through a stifled yawn, sitting up in the dim room. It's still kind of dark out but she can see you clearly. She rubs the sleep out of her eyes and gives in to a short yawn as she waits for you to hum like you always do, or turn around, or do something to at least acknowledge her presence.
She sits up and scoots over "Please talk to me, you're scaring me" She says it in such a cute and wholesome way with her voice as sweet as honey. She's navigated her way next to you, her feet hanging off the bed as she tugs on the hem of her shirt nervously.
It's only then when you're actually snapped out of every bad thought you were having. You look over into her wide eyes and you open your mouth to say something, to lie and tell her to go back to bed. But you can't because there's a lump in your throat so big you're unable to convey any words so instead you swallow and turn your head away.
"Please"
In one last effort to get you to say something, Sana pushes her hand through the space between your arm and your torso, then she holds your hand and interlocks your fingers. She squeezes her hand and you squeeze back to let her know that you're there. You look over to her one last time and she's silently pleading with her teary eyes. "Sana, I..." You pause and swallow again when your voice wavers.
She perks up "It's okay, take your time baby" She comforts you.
"I never told you but... I've been through a lot in the past and I'm fucked up because of it"
Sana gives you a look. It's pity and it's so prominent that you can't even bring yourself to look her in the eye. She's silent for a moment and you start to worry if it's all too much for her to handle. She shouldn't have to deal with someone who's got tons of baggage. "Why did you feel the need to hide it from me?" She asks as a tear rolls down her cheek. That's not the only one though, following it comes multiple, leaving streaks of clear dripping down her face.
"It's a long story and it doesn't matter now. All I'd be doing is wasting your time if you let me sit here and bitch about my problems all day long. You don't deserve that"
You turn your head away from Sana when you feel a tear threaten to fall and you blink it away as quickly as you can. "I will sit here for days and listen to your story if I have to! I'm your girlfriend, I deserve to hear it" She persists but you only keep your head turned away.
"It's irrelevant" 
A heavy, punishing silence follows your statement and you feel Sana let go of your hand and pull it away. You assume that she's going to let it go like you've told her to but instead she puts her palm flat on your back. There's this feeling of relief you get from it and when she begins to rub softly in circles, you feel comfortable again.
Then you look over to Sana because suddenly she's stopped the comforting motions and her eyes have seemed to go empty and there's this look of devastating shock on her face.
The thing is, she's seeing it all. All of your past experiences, the abuse, the negligence, the bullying, everything. Her breaths turn rapid as she sees it so vivid and clear. Graphic images of the torturous violence you've faced when you couldn't have been more than ten years old and then the nasty words they've said that's engrained so deep into your brain.
"Worthless" "Useless" "disgusting" "Kill yourself"
She hears it loudly echoing in her head then she gasps and a new rush of tears falls from her eyes.
You don't know what's happening but it's fucking terrifying and you try your best to snap her out of this trance-like state. "Sana" You call her name and grab her by the shoulders. Then you shake her a bit and with a blink she seems to be back "Are you okay? What happened?" You ask, your heart racing wildly.
Sana comes back, then she looks into your eyes again. But this time there isn't any pity. It's more-so understanding. Something about her gaze feels like she sees you, like she gets it and you didn't even have to say a word. "Oh" She almost sobs, then she whispers "My baby boy" and she wraps her arms around you.
Your heart melts completely and you finally break.
You cry into her shoulder, your tears staining her top but she could care less about it, she only holds you closer and tighter. She runs her fingers through your hair "My sweet prince" She starts, then she has to breath for a moment "You're perfect... you're enough... you're my everything."
"Sana" You shake your head, trying to reject it all, trying not to feel as much as you are right now.
"No" She pulls away from the hug, then makes a quick move to straddle your lap "I fucking love you... I need you" She holds your face in her hands so you have no choice but to look into her eyes. Those beautiful orbs that are so easy to get lost in. So much so that you don't even notice when she leans in to kiss you until your lips are already connected.
Your eyes shut and so do Sana's as you allow this newfound warmth to bind you. The kiss is so slow and sensual, you move your lips in unison with one another. You understand each other like that. If she parts her lips, you know your tongue should be in her mouth. That's exactly what you do. You lick into her mouth with a passion that tells her how much you love her—how much you need her. "I love you" You mumble into the kiss "I need you" then repeat what she said.
You can taste the salty mix of your tears, but neither of you care, you just continue to enjoy this kiss. It feels so good that you actually forget, you actually can't think of anything but Sana right now. That's all you've ever wanted to do. Your hands run up her top and you get a hold of the warm skin of her bare waist then you pull her closer to you.
Sana's hands leave your face, she grabs a hold of your shoulders and begins to push on them. You take the hint and lean backwards until you're laying flat on the bed with her on top of you. You shuffle around so your feet are also on the bed and she helps out with that. Then in no time, your lips are connected again and now you're back to devouring each other. 
"Please... I need..." Sana mutters through the kiss but then she breaks it completely and puts her hands on your chest "I need you" You nod your head and watch as she pulls her top over her head. You need her just as bad right now in this vulnerable moment when you have so much love to give--she's all you need.
So you take your tank top off, almost missing the way her breasts fall free from her shirt. Sana leans over again and kisses you, there's more passion in it this time and you reach your hands over to feel her body. Her skin is always so soft and warm. Moments later you let your hands gravitate to her breasts and you begin to massage them slowly, almost like you're kneading dough but with a bit less rigor and a bit more care.
She moans softly into your mouth and then she pulls away. Sana looks into your eyes for a moment, then scoots herself back so she's sat on your thighs. She grabs the waistband of your pajama pants and begins to tug on them. You raise your hips and allow her to strip you of your pants along with your boxers.
Sana takes your cock into her hand and pumps you to life with her soft hand (There wasn't much work to do because you were already halfway there). You prop yourself up on your elbows so you can watch the moment she lowers her head and sticks her tongue out. She licks the tip softly with her hand still holding the base firmly and then she takes you into her mouth. The first feeling of her soft, saliva coated lips has a low and long groan forcing its way out of your throat.
Her eyes lock with yours and she begins to descend, her hot mouth taking as much of you as possible. Once her lips, come into contact with her fist she comes back up and starts bobbing her head while she strokes you. "Fuck.. Sana - that feels so... good" You sigh while her velvety tongue scrapes against the underside of your cock.
It's one of the best feelings ever, the best part being that Sana won't take her eyes off of you. Although she can't speak, her eyes tell you everything that you need to know. She's looking at you with so much love and care that it brings you some actual comfort, like you two are the only living beings in the entire universe right now. Anything that matters or has ever mattered is now irrelevant, not even your demons could get to you in this bubble.
That's what Sana does, and it's why you know that she's the love of your life. 
You've known it for a while now but never has there ever been a moment like this thats made the fact so apparent. "I love you" There's a shudder in your voice when you say the words because she's doing everything right. Both her mouth and her hand are working together to please you and it only feels better the sloppier everything gets. 
In a moment, Sana withdraws her mouth with a popping sound following and she begins to jerk you off "I love you more" she smiles, then pokes out her tongue to let it rest against your tip so she can lap up the pre-cum leaking endlessly. "You ready for me?" There's a cute smirk that accompanies the simple question.
"Yes please" You nod and then you watch as she takes off her shorts and panties. Now her completely bare body is exposed to you and everything about it is pure perfection. "You're perfect" You sigh as she climbs on top of you.
Sana only giggles "Not as perfect as you my sweet prince." Her smile makes your pupils dilate nearly ten times as big as they already were. You didn't agree with her, but you let her have this one because there's no use in ruining this beautiful moment with something as morose as self deprecation. It doesn't at all change the fact that her words make you so feel warm inside that it might just be enough to make the thick ice in your cold heart thaw. 
She leans over, laying her soft body on yours and she kisses you softly. Your hands find her waist again—because they're supposed to be there—and you squeeze her supple flesh "I need you... so bad" You mumble the words desperately against her lips and Sana kisses you harder, reaching her hand down to find your cock.
It's throbbing in her hold, only for her and you feel her smile when she notices it. Sana lifts her hips and presses your tip into her entrance, wasting no time to lower herself nice and slow. Her tight cunt grips you firmly as she sinks down and you can't help but moan into her mouth as your nerves begin to register the heat. 
"Fuck" Sana breaks the kiss, her face only millimeters away from yours when her thighs land on your lap. Her face twists up, her jaw clenches and her eyes shut as she tries to get used to the stretch of your thick cock. "Your cock is so fucking..." She grits, exhaling a hot breath against your cheek before raising her hips and slamming them back down.
She connects your lips again and then she begins to ride you, moving her hips up and down in this slowed and steadied rhythm. It has you bucking your hips to meet hers half-way because she feels so fucking good. Sana moans into your mouth freely and loudly, struggling more and more to continue the kiss as she fucks you.
Soon enough, her mouth is hanging open and it's you doing all the work, kissing, licking and sucking her plump lips. 
There's something so perfect about being inside of Sana, especially when she's riding you. Her pussy wraps around you just right, like a tight warm hug (only it's sopping wet). With each movement she makes lighting each one of your nerves on fire to make sure that you feel the almost electric pleasure. It's how she moves her hips with such direction and purpose that has your toes curling and your heart pumping. Then it's the way her cunt clenches occasionally when you're completely buried inside.
Sana's an expert at this, she's mastered the art of riding you at this point in your relationship. She knows exactly what movements make you tick, how to moan your name, how to praise you--all to get you reeling with her name on your lips.
She knows you like the back of her hand.
She lifts herself a bit then plants her hands on your shoulders and she begins to roll her hips back and forth in a way that has your eyes threatening to roll back into your skull but you keep them on her. You have to see it. How perfect her tits look bouncing with the force of her motions, the pleasureful look on her face, the lust in her eyes and the sweat beading on her flushed body. Sana looks too perfect right now for you to miss anything.
"Sana, your pussy... feels so damn good" You moan, hands still holding on so tightly to her waist that you're leaving marks. "I fucking love you" 
"You're so perfect, my love" A warm smile shows on her lips, she takes your hands and interlocks your fingers, pinning your arms to the bed. "I can't imagine... fuck" She moans involuntarily and she's getting close already "I couldn't imagine life without you" She admits through her warm haze.
"I'm not going anywhere, princess" You promise with so much conviction it's like God himself is speaking through you.
Because Sana fucking needs you just as much as you need her and you just can't let this depression eat you alive when you have her.
You won't. 
Sana's the opposite of a liability. She only uplifts you, she makes you feel so good about yourself that you'd think you were on top of the world. She makes life worth all the bad and she's probably the best thing you have in this life. She's someone you can brag about without fail or embarrassment.
That is where you find some hope. Some actual hope in the sea of despair you've been floating lifelessly in.
"I-I'm close" Sana warns, snapping you out of your thoughts and it's definitely coming. You see all the signs. The way her hips stutter, how she's just bouncing her petite ass on your lap with her eyes shut and her bottom lip tucked between her teeth. There's also that pulsing inside of her wet heat that you just can't ignore.
She's right there
When she starts struggling to make her movements smooth, you take her waist back into your hands. Then Sana falls forwards, some of her brown hair getting in your face as you hold her in place tightly so she cant move. Before Sana can even complain about it you're using nothing but your core strength to piston your cock into her at a speed so ungodly it has her jaw dropping.
"Yeah - Yeah just like that, princess. Cum for me" Your voice shakes as you sing her praises because your body could give out at any moment if you keep fucking her like this. You begin to break a sweat, your cock burning up as you fuck her soaked cunt. The noise is filthy. Now that she's gone silent, you can hear it loud and clear. Every sticky squelch when your hips meet the backs of her thighs is so obscenely loud in your ears. "Come on, Sana" You nearly heave into her ear.
Then she begins to shudder and you know you have her when "Ah fuck baby I'm cumming. I'm fucking -" she cuts herself off with a vocal moan. Her slick wets your entire lap, spreading everywhere as her hips go wild in an attempt to ride out her high. You never stopped grinding into her either, all deep and slow inside so she'd feel every inch as she cums. "God" She sighs and then she stops moving and you follow suit.
Sana weakly brings her head up and connects your lips again. You kiss back, immediately pouring your entire heart into this kiss because she deserves it. She deserves everything. When she starts moving again you stop her with your hands "Baby" She whines, then your lips disconnect. She pouts at you "I want to make you cum" She tries moving again but you don't say anything.
You flip her over gently, then get yourself between her legs "I want us to cum together" 
She looks into your eyes then lifts her hand to caress your cheek softly "Whatever you want my sweet prince" You nearly melt at the term of endearment because it makes you feel so connected to her. The genuine tone in her voice accompanied by the softness makes it even more intimate and the 'my' signifying that you're hers because you'll always be. 
It's one of your favorites.
Sana notices how your eyes soften as you look into hers and you don't even break eye contact when you guide your tip towards her begging entrance. As you slide in, her eyebrows furrow, but she keeps looking at you with those big beautiful eyes. You lean over to put your lips on hers once more and that's when you begin to move. 
You make sure Sana feels every single inch, the way you fuck her with such a slow, burning passion. It lights her heart on fire. "I can't - baby.. you're so deep" She's losing it at the angle because nothing compares to the way your cock rubs against her walls, just brushing past all of her tender spots. 
The only thing you do is kiss her harder, your tongue exploring the warm confines of her mouth. Kissing Sana has always been one of your favorite intimate acts to do with her and if she'd let you, you'd have make out sessions that last hours upon hours on end.
Sana takes your lip in between her teeth as you pull away and then she lets go, her moans soft when you pick up the pace. You duck your head into her neck and you begin to kiss, lick and suck on the soft skin "Do whatever you want, I'm yours baby" Sana assures you, running her fingers through your hair as you begin to leave sweet marks on her. 
You increase your speed a bit, not so much that it feels punishing but enough for her to know that she feels so good that you almost can't help yourself. "So wet and tight for me, princess" You growl against her skin and Sana begins to lose her breath.
"Yes - right there - fucking hell baby" Sana gasps, her arms wrapping tightly around your body. She stops herself from scratching even if she wants to and in the back of her mind she know's you would never mind it. 
Either way she only hugs your body close to hers.
"Princess... I hope you're almost there cause... I" You almost whimper the words into her neck.
"Shh- I know baby, just go ahead" She rubs the back of your head in a way that feels so good that it's almost like magic. "Inside" and then a small gasp escapes her lips and before you know it, your cock is spasming inside of her and you're filling her tight cunt, painting those perfect velvety walls white. A choked groan escapes your lips and tears begin to brim your eyelids as the pleasure takes over your entire body. It has you nearly shaking, making the most expressive 'O' face you've made in maybe months.
"Fuck" You groan as you keep thrusting, fucking your load so deep it'll probably slip past her IUD. Then when everything else subsides, your cock almost goes numb as you try your hardest to get Sana there no matter what because she deserves it.
"Don't stop" Sana begs, and her voice sounds so desperate when she does because she's so close. All it took was for her to feel your cock spraying your warm cum inside of her to get her there.
When Sana's chest begins to rise you know you've got her "There you go baby, cum for me" You whisper and that's when a strangled—almost sob-like—moan leaves her mouth. You keep the pace to fuck her though it as she shudders through her orgasm.
You stop completely and you two just lay there in that position for a moment. Soon Sana begins rubbing the smooth skin on your back and you take a deep breath "I love you" you murmur.
"I love you" She begins and you give her a moment to gather her thoughts. You'd give her all the time in the world if you could. "I know I said it already but you can tell me anything. No matter what. I don't care how long it is or how fucked up it is, I want to hear your story. I need to"
"You won't look at me the same after" You mutter weakly, still not moving from where you are.
Sana stays silent for a moment "Yeah, maybe you're right" She starts off and it catches you off guard a bit but then she continues "When I look at you, I'll see someone strong. Stronger than who you were before because whatever you went through, it couldn't have been easy to endure. Most people would've already given up"
You finally decide to get off of her and you sit up on the bed. "How would you even know that?" The question might've seemed harsh but Sana knows you don't mean it like that. The reason you ask is because its scary. So scary that she's saying all the right things.
It's almost like she...
"Because I saw it!" Sana sits up as well, kind of regretting how her words come off "Well, glimpses of it" She corrects, then begins to think again and you allow it because you have no clue what to say at all "When I touched you, before we..." She shakes her head "I saw like... small pieces of everything. I saw the abuse, I heard the words.. I just... I couldn't believe it"
You only tilt your head because it's all you can really bring yourself to do. This revelation is nearly bone chilling and so inconceivable that you force yourself to believe that she's lying whether or not if it was out of character for her to joke or lie in a situation like this. "Sana that's not funny" You sort of scold her, but your voice isn't at all cold about it.
"I'm not joking" She insists.
Then, in your bedroom at maybe seven-ish in the morning, with the rain still hitting the window, Sana explains everything she saw in her visions in detail.
That's when you come to really believe that she isn't joking.
-
The warm water from the shower head cascades down your body smoothly and comfortably, nothing like the harsh rain outside. You wrap your arms around Sana and rest your chin on her shoulder "So if you already saw what I went through, why do I need to re-tell it to you?" are the first words spoken for the entire duration of your time in the shower. 
It started off silent, the two of you cleaning each other and kissing as you enjoyed the hot water and each others presence. It was a well needed contrast from the endless talking you did in the bedroom just before. You can see the soft smile on Sana's face in the reflection of the glass door "Well, I didn't see everything" She turns around in your arms "and it'll be good for you to say it out loud, I mean I don't expect you to be better in a day. I get that it takes time but-"
Sana stops talking when you put your lips on hers, leaving a small peck on her lips. "Listen princess, you're not my therapist. I don't wanna dump that burden on you. You understand that it wouldn't be good for us, right?" It's true, treating your significant other like a therapist can lead to many bumps in a relationship. But maybe that's just another excuse as to why you've been hiding everything from Sana.
"Oh? Where'd you learn that?"
"The internet" You shrug
Sana puts her hand on your bare chest and looks into your eyes, with those loving eyes. "Well, I may not be a licensed therapist but it's important for me to know because I'm your girlfriend and I want you to be able to open up to me like I open up to you about everything" You open your mouth to say something else but Sana shushes you then she reaches for the shampoo "Now wash my hair for me, pretty please?" You can't help but smile because she's so adorable.
When Sana turns around and tilts her head back, you grumble "I still think its super weird that you have like... superpowers."
"How do you think I feel? I'm still freaked out about it" She whines playfully as you lather her hair in her shampoo. The scent is warm and floral and you can't help but lose your breath trying to inhale more and more of it. It's one of those scents that only Sana has. So to you, it quite literally belongs to her, no matter who else may use it.
-
"The rain stopped" You mutter softly to the girl laying on your chest with her leg thrown over you. Sana only hums at your realization and you turn over to look at the window. It's covered by your curtains because you've both decided to go back to sleep but you can still see the sun peaking through.
You smile softly, thinking about how you agreed to tell her everything when you wake up. It doesn't feel scary anymore. In fact, you were actually looking forward to getting everything off your chest. You know you'll probably end up crying in front of her again--which you're still a bit embarrassed about--but you also know that she'll be there to hold you and knowing her she'll probably cry too.
That's when you eventually doze off, and for once it's easy.
"Babe?" Sana calls your name but she only hears your heavy breathing and from that she concludes that you're asleep. She innocently shifts just a bit to make herself more comfy and it happens again.
She sees something
At first it's kind of blurry so it's difficult for her to make out but as it gets clearer, she realizes that it's the both of you cuddling in bed together.
Then just like that, it's gone. Sana jumps, a small gasp escaping her lips and it wakes you up. "Whats wrong princess?" You ask tiredly, blinking when you notice the tears running down her cheeks. "Bad dream?" 
Sana only shakes her head "No... baby, it's beautiful" she cries. You try to sit up because you're really concerned but Sana stops you. "Just let me hold you" She sniffles and you reluctantly nod, allowing her to wrap her arms around you the best as she can.
You're put at ease because she doesn't seem sad at all.
It's almost like she's right where she wants to be.
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ririblogsss · 10 months ago
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what if Danny give no fu-ks
Ok hear me out, Dannys obsession has never truest been confirmed by the show itself (that I remember) I've seen a lot of people say his obsession comes from wanting to help / protect people. But what if he feels as though that he is now doing more damage than good, after all there are a lot of people getting hurt as colateral damage from the chases he has to go on. Or simply when he has to run away from getting captured.
What if one night he was up late and saw a post about a tragedy that happened because he slipped up (it wasn't even his fault, but he still blames himself for everything). And then he starts looking at all the bad comments against him ignoring all the good ones saying how much Danny Phantom has helped Amity. Because Danny is still human and confirmation bias is real. Imagine how he felt the moment he realized that he was causing people to get hurt instead of keeping them save.
Image the desperation clawing at him with the realization that he has never been able to fully manage his obsession. it makes him sad, desperate, angry.
His entire self is filled with too many emotions at the sametime he isn't even able to identify them and catalogue them properly like Jazz taught him.
and then everything stops and he feels nothing.
Completely and utterly numb.
Like his whole reason to keep going suddenly disappears.
And it has.
He gave up on his obsession and now he has to make / get a new one.
But it's not that easy.
This drastic change could've ended any ghost as they run on (live off) emotions.
Luckily because he's a Halfa, so that has given him the upper hand. Unfortunately it makes it so that he is completely devoid of any emotion.
Months go by and people immediately notice changes, the more drastic one is that Phantom went missing, and eventually a lot of ghost that where coming in looking for him stop. Amity Park is no longer populated by ghosts, and slowly the GIW started to retreat from Amity going to another place following a lead that says there are more ghost activities up north.
But those changes aren't the only ones noticeable. Dannys classmates and teachers can vouch that Danny has changed. Most say he was always quite , and others say he looked down right depressed. Danny didn't do much in classes not that he paid attention before. Its just this time it seems that its not out of being sleepy or anxious about another ghost attacking the school instead Danny looks like he coundn't give less of a fu-k about anything.
He never smiles anymore not even when his favorite subjects (mechanics and space) are brought up. Not even a quirk of a smile. The school decided to contact his parents about Dannys new behaviors. That includes skipping classes, not handing in work, not doing the assigned work in class ect....
And its not like his parents havent noticed, they've had more time in their hands since they aren't using hours of the day/night going out hunting anymore. and they have witnessed their son become a shell of himself. They don't know what to do, and they don't want to worry Jazz about it because she's at collage and needs to focus on her studies.
So when the school contact them and told them that the behavior is the same in school they decided major changes needed to happen. Starting with a change of environment.
Maddie and Jack decided that Amity park was too big of a city with too many people. They could nearly see the stars at night because of the light pollution, hence they decided to move next door to Alicia, Maddie sister, home in SmallVille.
They decided it was the best choice, Danny would be surrounded by nature and he could do online classes that would go the pace he wanted. The move was immediate, the day off they packed everything sold the house and moved.
They only stopped to say goodbye to Danny's friends. A small bye and hug later they were on a 7 hour road trip to their new home.
When they got there the old resident handed them the keys of the home and told them to ignore the their neighbors 'The Kents' as they often made a lot of noice and had group gatherings every month.
The one thing Jack and Maddie forgot to double check was if the house was an actual house or a farm house. Sounds similar, but completely different as they now had 2 cows, 16 chickens, 1 rooster, and 3 pigs to take care off.
Danny was put on duty of taking care of the animals, such as feeding them on time and making sure they were healthy. Jack and Maddie made more of the heavy weight as to re building broken fences and fixing the questionable roof.
(The first thing Danny did when meeting all the animals was name them. After all this was about all the interaction he was going to do.)
Danny didn't have time to think about his lost obsession or his lack of emotions as he was now too busy making sure each animal was taken care off.
Marcy and linda (the cows) were danny's favorite they were very gentle and he felt that they could understand him when he spoke to them the stories of his vigilante past.
On the other hand The Chickens were a nightmare, Glinda was cool as she never chased him down. But Matilda and Bethany were a nightmarish duo spiteful too when he was seconds late to the finding time. Mark the rooster was chill he mainly acted as of he was part of the group that needed protection.
Marice, Betty, and Miss Piggy were the chillest of the bunch never gave Danny any trouble when feeding them and always made a point that they loved their new mudbath installation that Danny made for them on his first 2 days on the farm.
A month after arriving at the farm house Danny noticed that mark was missing. Danny looked everywhere around the property and saw him from afar, at the road. So Danny did the sensible thing anyone would do when spotting a run away pet, and that is call their name at the top of your lungs whilst running after them.
naturally Mark the escape artist run the opposite direction. By the time Danny caught up to him Danny didn't recognize the house he was infant off. So with Mark comfortably in his arms He swears he can see a smug look on marks face. Danny turned away from the house to start his walk back to the farm, but he was met with a kid his age looking at him with distrust.
"Ehhh look kid Im sorry to have crossed the properties border but Mark here" Danny made a point to acentuate Mark in his arms "Runaway from me this morning and I've been trying to catch him ever since, anyways I need to go feed the girls"
The kid starred at him for a second "OMG your from the new family in Mr.duncans farm right? in Aver ST.?" and wow the kid was like a ray of sunshine.
"Yea-" Danny could even finish his sentence before the kid cut him off by starting to talk a mile a minute about how he was so exited to meet people his age that lived near by and how farm chores were harder that normal house chores.
"Jon, give him time to respond. Im Damian this is Jon" Danny jumped he hadn't noticed the second kid at all
"Oh yeah... sorry about that what's your name?" The kid (Jon) slightly less enthusiasm, a bit embarrassed if his tone of voice was anything to get by.
"Danny, Im 15" he responded before he started walking away after all he did need to get in time to feed the chickens unless he wants to suffer their furry. Danny shuddered at the memory that popped up in his head.
"Wait!!! I just thought we could be friends cause we live close by u know" Jon said catching up with Dannys steps. Damian was following from behind.
"Sure kid I don't care" Dannys voice was monotone much like it had been for months.
"Hey were not kids for your information, Im 14 and Damians 16 soon to be 17, so if anything you night be the actual kid!" Danny chuckled slightly it was more similar to releasing air from his lips than a laugh.
Soon a quite and enjoyable science encompassed the group as they went to Dannys home.
"Hmm... you're hold on Mark is adequate and the your determination for getting home in time for feeding is acceptable" Damian spoke up after a while of the passive silence.
"yeah and what is It to you" Danny was slightly urked by Damians default setting speach. He told him as such.
Jon blanched before erupting into giggles that sent him to lay down on the grass uncontrollably laughing. Damians right eyebrow quirked up in what Danny assumed was amusement.
Thus a new friendship grew that day.
They often gathered at Dannys or Jons yard to have picnic in the weekends (as Damian and Jon has school in Metropolis on week days) and hangout with the animals. Danny found out that Damian was a vegetarian and that he had various animals at home. One time he brought his Great Dane Titus, who bodied Danny on sight to give him kisses.
Also Damian was Damian Wayne as in bruce Wayne, Batman sugar daddy. When he said that, Jons milk flew out of his nose and Damian choked on his cucumber wrap. Even Titus gave him a judgemental stare.
Slowly Danny started to smile more, laugh every so often. And things were feeling so much better after not being able to feel anything for a while.
Jazz, Aunt Alicia and especially Maddie and Jack felt so relived to see that Danny was slowly coming back to them.
Danny to this day backs the fact that Mark knew something and planned the whole thing.
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kiefbowl · 12 days ago
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On radblr, in my early twenties, now what is likely 10 years ago (which, it's hard to remember when I started actually feminist positing on tumblr in earnest), I used to write about rape a lot more. I think my younger self felt invigorated not so much about the conversation of rape (of course, it's horrific), but by being angry and political about it. Being able to articulate complex, feminist ideas about rape, and have likeminded women engage. It felt intellectual and important, while a form of my own conscious raising. As I've aged, I find it harder. I can only say so many things, over and over again. It was never not hard, or depressing, or angering, but where the bad feelings once felt righteous and worth experiencing for the sake of speaking towards truth, now it can feel ineffective and exploitative.
I'm not saying one way is right, the other is wrong. I think (speaking broadly of course) that this is a part of aging. I think there is some truth about the patterns we see between young people and their thoughts and abilities, and then aging out of them. I think, speaking politically, younger and older activists need each other because two perspectives work in congress: the young passion that can be short sighted and ideological, and the elder pragmatism that can fall into complicity. These two perspectives together can be stronger than when apart. It's always more complicated than that, and each person is different, but I do think the trend of "I'm full of energy and angry and shocked and won't faulter" giving way to "I'm going to be measured and find priorities and perhaps become more lenient" is a general trend that is true. You get older and you realize both how short time is and how much longer you get to live it, and constant anger is not only exhausting, but it can be counterproductive. What's more, is that not only do your responsibilities increase, but some of those responsibilities also rub up against the very "machine" you used to rail against. You can achieve a lot with money, and to gain money you have to work. You gain money, you can start increasing your circle of influence, but then that increases the people you need to take care of. You need to take care of people, then you need to buy things. Suddenly, what seemed so easy being young and living off a shoestring budget 10 years ago seems irrational and dangerous today. I need to feed my dog, I need to help my sister, I can't expect my parents to live forever, I want to retire one day, I can bet on declining health...on and on. I'm speaking about myself in many ways, but I'm also trying to gesture to the larger trend generally. Extrapolate as it suits you, I think more of you than you realize will find yourself re-evaluating what actually isn't reconcilable as you get older. It's both hard to swallow and yet...like a toad in boiling water, you're almost not surprised looking back and realizing how much has changed and how right so many adults were when you were younger.
And so to this point, my intellectual posts about rape decreased. Never completely out of the fight, but being more specific about my time, my energy. Opting out of discussions that were too triggering, being more careful about my word choices. Understanding the harm that can come from being combative towards strangers on a public platform. Realizing that some periods of my life could be dedicated to enriching my life and creating enjoyment, and that meant certain things could be put on the backburner. Just because I wasn't writing, doesn't mean I wasn't thinking. I didn't need external validation (especially from strangers on tumblr) that my time was being well spent when it came to observing the news and thinking about it. I know what goes on in my head, putting it into a public post didn't make it more true. I'm not so sure I had the same belief at 22/23/24, etc. I think whether I would have articulated it that way, I think I felt like what went on in my head was meaningless unless it was being crafted into a message that had some sort of impact, with tumblr being my main platform to do that. I don't think that way now. I think my thoughts have value even if I keep them to myself, which means when I really have something I think is worth sharing on tumblr, I can craft it more precisely if and when I find the time. Or at least that's my goal as a 30-something, and I don't think that was as explicit of a goal as a 20-something who just wanted to get every thought down because it felt like my brain was being turned on for the first time.
But something that is coming into focus with the accusations of Gaiman that I haven't really reckoned with, or at least not as much as I have the past 24 hours & past 6 months, is that while I aged privately and passively by blog followed suit, is that the landscape of tumblr has evolved around me. I think there's a trick my brain has played on me: that at the end of the day, something of what I engaged with on radblr 10 years ago still exists. And, yes, to an extent, there are some women here I've followed for the entire time (but they have also aged...). But my followers have increased and decreased and increased and decreased with every stupid post that goes viral, and as I've aged and remained on tumblr, many many more women have aged and bowed out. It's becoming increasingly clear that I have a lot of young women following me who are not my age, and did not see those posts, mine and others. The "classics" that live large in my mind but weren't viral hits, just radblr discourses of the week. Some of these young women have a wildly different online experience than I did, and I think I knew but didn't know know the difference 10 years makes when growing up on the internet. I never had twitter, some of you are "twitter expats." I remember when youtube was people uploading 20 second home videos, some of you only know youtube as the long form video essay platform. I remember events like they were yesterday that are already erased in the public consciousness. Some of you were coming into your own during the "Me Too" movement and gave it so much credence, where I was not surprised nor expected much from it. Now I can see how we retroactively talk about it like it was such a bombshell, when most women I knew at the time, even "normie" women were, like, "yeah duh." I also haven't really reckoned with the fact that it's been long enough era of the "new algorithm" that there are (although young) full-grown adults who don't remember the internet before it.
The conversations I took for granted on tumblr are changing. To be sure, there are still a lot of women on tumblr who are likeminded to myself, making amazing posts that are good, true, & eye-opening. I'm not panicking that the "landscape" has changed so much that I can't recognize anything anyone says anymore, and that ""real"" feminism has dried up and disappeared when I stopped looking. But I want to say some things about rape that I believe are ideas that were shared between a collection of women that I deeply associated with on here a long time ago that maybe isn't explicitly talked about in these terms as frequently as I used to experience. I want to say some things that I used to say all the time that I think I assumed that "everyone knows" I say "these things" and "think these ways" - when maybe I haven't been so explicit in so long that people don't know, or haven't seen me speak these things before.
And so, some thoughts on rape:
Rape as a word is known to be an evil act, and therefore people (men and women) will speak of it as if they are against it. However, rape as it functions in our life is seen as a necessity. This is why people can speak out of two sides of their mouth about it. Rape is a concept of evil, but it is not an evil action. Why? Because women are meant to be raped. This is what's understood: women are inherently rape-able. Women are not sexual beings, they are sexual objects. They are incubators, and they create lust in men, which is what unravels the virture of men.
When a man rapes a women, the ultimate evil is that the man's virtue was corrupted, not the woman's. These ideas aren't explicitly articulated by anyone, but they are patterns at the heart of rape myths. It is a "shame" that a man "lost his will" because he happened across an "object" that "tricked him" into being "bestial", something that is ultimately excusable because man is beast. Is woman beast? No, she is not man.
If a man can resist, he is the paradigm of virtue; if he can't it's because she was too rape-able to remain virtuous. This is how men know they are rapists but don't agree they are rapists. They know they do the necessary action of raping, they disagree it's the same as the agreed upon concept of Rape. Rape that is evil is some monstrous other using these women as they are reserved for men.
When it suits men of a community, they can use this idea against other men they want to other. When it doesn't suit men, no man can be monstrous because all men are brothers, and so rape ceases to exist. You can't rape my daughter, unless you marry her, then do as you please. You can't rape madonnas, unless she is a whore, then do as you please. You can't rape my women, but if they're your women, do as you please. These ideas are not concrete convictions, they will morph to suit the man at the center of the rape accusation. A rapist who date-rapes might very well feel righteous anger when it happens to his sister. He can and will find a way to excuse whatever he did as part of some normal paradigm, a way he must act or should act, or a thing that is excusable for him. The inconsistency of this logic does not matter, because it does not suit him, and therefore does not suit male supremacy.
I say this all because, even though I'm appalled by the reaction of Gaiman's fans online, who are both men and women, and who can only fucking think of how they consume media (truly unbelievable and juvenile), I am simply not surprised. In so many ways, Gaiman's victims were rape-able, and that's why in so many ways his fans can readjust the variables of the situation and come up with some sort of conclusion of how it is rape, but it isn't Rape. Maybe she liked it sometimes, maybe she is misremembering. Maybe he was just confused on the terms of consent.
But what's more important to them is that they give credence to the idea that of course Rape is Evil, because they are good people who must think that way. What they're trying to convince themselves, and what can seem like they are speaking another language, is that this isn't Rape, this is rape. And so it's not that "she is misremembering" means she wasn't raped, but that she was raped in such a way that is the natural order of things. Man, who is a virtuous human and a beast, raped a sexual object who can only expect to exist so long in the world before tempting a man. This seems so obvious to most people. Feminists seem so intense and crazed, because they are centering something that is unnatural to most: a woman's experience as a human, not an object.
It comes natural to these fens to ask: "How can I enjoy my tv show knowing so many people think my hero is a capital R Rapist, when that's philosophical idea on evil and not a material reality, when I don't want people to think I don't take the capital R Rape idea as a serious evil." They are having two conversations in tandem. One is the idea that of course it's possible for Rape to exist, it's possible for some monstrous other to exist, but this man is not a monstrous other, because he is just a man. And men rape, that's just how it goes, because women are rape-able.
I'm condensing many ideas I have about rape into something simplified, for the sake of a tumblr post. And I got there in a circulus way, but I want to encourage the "old guard" who is still here, or women that agree with me above, that although they don't need to, if they have the time to speak more about rape as an intentional weapon against women, to do so. I think there are many ways the political conversation about rape for young women is first happening online, and I think the popular discourse is going sideways. A blind leading the blind moment. This is not a value judgement, but I'm gobsmacked at some things that are said as if they are "given" feminist talking points, that fall outside my understanding of rape as a feminist. Things like equalizing the complicity of Palmer with Gaiman's actions, rationalizing certain sexual proclivities as rooted in some innate sexuality, creating a hierarchy of which actions were worse for which victims, and so on. In many ways, also not surprising, par for the course for how feminism is generally spoken about. What is surprising to me is the confidence of speaking this way, and being convinced of their transgressive ideas. I think feminist online discourse must be so dire that the needle moving to some mid-point in a woman might convince her she's quite enlightened, when there's so much more she could learn. I think this idea that "libfems" are actually women who are clearly anti-feminist has convinced a lot of women that they are "good feminists" by engaging with ideas that are at odds at all with blatant conservatism, that it might be mystifying that they are quite centrist in comparison from many feminist talking points 10 to 20 years ago, at least as it appears to me. I'm speaking broadly, I know, but I had to get some thoughts down. Some angry part of me still exists and I do still feel the need to discuss rape, if only to show some young woman that there really is a deeply radical way you can think of rape that perhaps you hadn't thought of before.
As always, I'm open to critiques about anything in this post.
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dirtytransmasc · 14 days ago
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I find it deeply depressing that every adult in Spider's life had children, yet he was never anyone's priority. every adult he could and most likely attempted to match in to. the adults he remembered as the closest things he had to parents since birth (Jake and Norm, even if they weren't acting as his parents, because Spider, genuinely, would not know better). down to his actual foster family (the McCoskers). essentially went out of their way to de-prioritize him.
like I'm not faulting them for having kids, for having a family. but Spider was their first priority. he didn't need to be adopted by any of them, per say, but he was their responsibility. he was their orphan, Jake especially, considering he was the chief of his people, but Norm as well, seeing as he's a prominent figure head of the clan/Hellsgate.
the McCoskers took him in, but over the years, as they had their own children, he was more and more neglected. he was now no longer his actually appointed guardians priority. and that only gets worse and worse as he ages until they become outright abusive (Nash does anyway, cause thats what I'm gonna call violently kidnapping his, throwing him in a room and locking him there, and trying to kill all of them, him included, when they run away. as abuse. and I'll get back to the whole "you have to turn yourself in to the RDA" x2 speech from Jake in a second). they also didn't really accept his culture. with their resentment towards the Na'vi brewing, Spider most definitely faced some heat for being more of the forest than of humans, in terms of culture.
3 times over, Spider came first and was put last. put last by parents who know damn well how much love, time, care, and attention a child needs. who should be able to see when a kid is being neglected. who dialed to advocate and protect him from neglect (instead of calling him a stray).
he was a child and they were his advocates. all three parties failed in their duty as advocates, to protect Spider. to ensure he always had a loving home that made him their priority. that fulfilled all his needs, not just the physical ones. but all put their own families first, and abandoned Spider to the scraps of their love, time, and affection.
imagine being Spider, an orphan who can't even mention his birth parents and is always treated like he is the physical rebirth of his father's sins by half the people around him. every adult in your life has kids and seems like they're such a good parent. you watch their kids being loved and tended to and having a steady home. they receive love and affection constantly. but your fosters pay less and less attention to you as they have babies. and now your a stray to the man you look up to so much. and the man who probably taught you how to put an exopack on has less and less time for you. no one has time for you. you're no one's child. no one's priority. just a stray. a nuisance. and you don't truly belong anywhere.
no one was putting him first. children need to be someone's priority. psychology. they need it.
and then the RDA returns. the McCoskers leave, Spider is expected to leave everything he has ever known, to join the very people he hates and has been trying so hard since he could understand what it meant, to prove that he wasn't like them. Jake, the man he once looked up to, was telling him to leave. sending him away. stripping him of the little amount of family he could somewhatly claim, that being his siblings.
once again, Jake is his chief, should be looking out for him. not even as a father, per say, but as his duty to Spider as his chief. a chief should never be sending away his most vulnerable ward, a child he should consider his own (as all of his clans children should be one with his own children), to the opposing enemy force.
this happens again when they're running away, Jake tells him ever more directly to hide in the forest alone until the RDA stops shooting at everything that moves and then turn himself in so he can his own children could run. once again, putting him last, instead of protecting all of them.
then for a year, Spider has no family. no one. the McCoskers are gone and no one has stepped up to bat for him. he's 15/16 and alone. his the big sibling to the Sully's. those kids are all he has, but they aren't really looking out for him. he's looking out for them. cause he's the oldest. that's just how it is. he is one with the clan. lives with them. does chores. watches out for his siblings, the whole nine. but Jake isn't doing his duty of watching out for his ward. he is once again giving and giving and giving, and not receiving.
and then he is taken, he is taken, and while Jake may not have had the means to go back for Spider, or been able to take the risk of going back for him, he abandons him without a thought for his safety, and puts his children first. it's the language and attitude be poses towards the situation that is wild to me. he has every right to be worried about his children, but he could not spare Spider an ounce of concern, even knowing the danger he was in, and is more concerned about him spilling details then anything else. Spider is, once again, not his first, second, or even third priority. he is a means to an end. a necessary loss.
people only care about Spider when there's nothing else they can put before him.
#to put a long story short#I am upset that every adult in Spider's life could have and care for their own kids#but could not look out for Spider#not even saying that they needed to be his parents#but they abandoned him. every last one of them. and no one did anything to protect him.#no one made him a priority#individually. no party is directly guilty. but the fact that they all watched it happen and didn't do a thing. didn't even notice.#makes them all guilty of one thing or another in my mind#Spider didn't deserve to have every adult in his life dodge responsibility over him#I always thought Norms kids were adopted and it genuinely made me hate him since I read the comics. that he adopted kids but not Spider.#I am still mad. but less so.#its still frustrating that. but I get that raising bio Na'vi kids snd a human child would be rough.#I feel the same way about him that I do Jake#Spider was. even if he wasn't their adopted child. their responsibility first. before they had children.#seeing as there positions of power/having a human body/etc. made him his advocates and caretakers.#and they failed him when they chose to have their own kids and that became a catalyst for Spider being all but abandoned by them#because even with foster guardians. Spider need people looking out for him to make sure he was actually being taken care#avatar 2#avatar the way of water#spider socorro#miles spider socorro#miles socorro#avatar#avatar spider#spider avatar#I didn't include Max in this cause we don't know enough about what he had going on for me to comment.
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mrabubu · 7 months ago
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/the ref is a bit old, but the info is mostly accurate/
So, I did kinda sketch ref for my Kraang character and make her more of a person, or something, with a name and all. I'm still going to use they/them pronounce and Y/N when people will be asking something about Krangified AU.
More information about her below.
So, her name is Ana now.
About her personality before she was turned into the Kraang zombie I still can't say much at the moment (because I'm mostly focused on their interactions in the present timeline), except for her being the person who was genuinely worried about Leo and what's been going on in his head. She saw his attitude and for her it was obvious it was mostly a facade to hide his real emotions and wanted to help him, being a shoulder to lean on. I see her being the weirdo to others that found his jokes actually funny.
After Kraangification, I can describe her with one word: DEPRESSION. I mean, you've been a mindless zombie for about 10 years that practically flashed before your eyes. You wake up facing the facts that the world has been at war with the Kraang for all this time, everyone you knew grew up, your family is long gone, your boyfriend been through hell and lost his arm, and, yeah, your still kinda a zombie also facing some self-control issues. Your Kraang half is taking control over you from time to time, attacking others and even friends if provoked. Not to mention that a lot of things that used to be casual to you are now something you need to learn to be used to again, like bed or actual food. Yeah and also that little inconvenience that she has to eat people now.
She's been dozing off a lot at first, after Leo got her to their base, just staring at one point, processing the whole situation and still feeling like it's just a very long nightmare. And only Leo could snap her out of this state at least for a short amount of time.
When I've been making first sketches with her I gave her this pointed ear and horn like Kraang appendage on her forehead, and thought this kinda reminded of oni's (demons) from Japanese folklore, which kinda resonated with this whole Kraang AU concept.
I also can't stop thinking about Beauty and the Beast (original Disney animated movie) concept, only with them swapping roles in contrast to the original story.
I really like the concept of the turtles being able to make this chirping and churring sounds, and thought, why can't she make something like this? So, yeah, she can churp and purr (I don't know if there's a difference between churring and purring, still didn't understand, and this churring sound is still mostly fictional, fanon thing..? but, anyway). I like this idea of Leo and Ana being able to communicate with the language only they (and other turtles) understand.
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A few more sketches with her and a couple of scenes.
Her claws on the Kraang arm can extend. I thought about her being able to shapeshift her arm further, but for now it's either extended claws, or something like a sword or some other sharp pointy thing...
I've been thinking about her fighting style, and for a reference I used the The Witcher 3 again (yeah) There's a vampire species, Bruxa and Alp, and I'm thinking her fighting style would be something like of an Alp. Fast and agile, also pretty strong (tho still not strong enough to take out big enemies like the Kraang in their suits).
I have this scene in my head that I actually been sketching already, where she's fighting the Kraang hounds, and pretty much able to lift one grabbing it by it's throat and throwing it into the tree like a rag doll.
youtube
Another thing is her screech she uses to intimidate/immobilize her enemies. It's also more of an alp than bruxa, especially in this video time code 00:36, this is pretty much how I imagine it.
I also know that I've messed up her eyes when she's in her Kraang mode, because they should be turning purple, like Raph's left eye that wasn't covered by Kraang flesh, but, uuuh, I don't want to change that at this point...
I think that's it for now...? If I'll have more ideas I'll either be making other posts, or updating this one.
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skyrigel · 8 months ago
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I’m so glad you take requests for Anthony bridgerton. I’ve been in the mood to read angst with happy endings for so looong😫 so could I request Anthony bridgerton x wife angst where they have an argument/fight because he is stressed so he takes his anger out on her so she ends up giving him the silent treatment while he basically begs for her forgiveness
Say nothing then || A.B
Pairing: Anthony bridgerton x wife!reader
Warning: hurt/angst, superstitious thoughts, Anthony doesn't think he could outlive his father. ( Happy ending and little comfort, i promise.)
Rigel's note 🪩 : Thankyou so much for requesting, absolutely heart breaking to write this one, I took inspo from book, Anthony denying love because he saw his mother going in depression when his father died and taylor swift's lyric I said, "I love you" (I said, "I love you") You say nothin' back . I hope i did justice with this one sweetheart <3
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That's the way you loved Anthony, truly and completely and sometimes it was so hard to keep it in, it slipped through your lips everytime you kissed him. Pressing down in his skin and tickling his heart that was yours.
It gazed at him, dusk or dawn, ever so lovely, it scribbled down in your ink, leaving your love trailing down behind him.
When Anthony told you he would give you anything, you believed him, when he said he just wouldn't love you, you didn't.
That's not how it goes, perhaps you were naive and blinded but that, it was love that glinted in his eyes everytime he looked at you. When he would smile and reveal the book you yearned to read, hidden behind his back. When he danced more than any husband did with his wife so you didn't believe when Anthony said he wouldn't love you, that was only a matter of time.
However, there's difference between wouldn't and couldn't, Anthony was scared to love, for he knew it's a force and he would be damned if you were to be left heartbroken just like his mother, he would curse himself if he didn't wake when you would call out for him when he was dea Because Anthony was sure, he bloody knew he wouldn't be able to live past his father and in no universe he would want to see you begging, crying and slowly drifting away. Lost and sad, no.
So he wouldn't love you and he would save you from the greater grief, of getting left behind while the other is gone.
But love became too much sometimes, held too much of your heart and body and soul that it demanded to fly and then one such night, all the chains tattered and it was bleeding raw and fresh—
" I love you." You said, like you did every passing moment but oops you had said it now, in words and sound as Anthony kissed the back of your ear, it was the first time the words ever experienced by the nature, no doubt you had said it with every kiss, every touch, every gesture but this was new.
Anthony freezed above you, hands dropping whatever mischief they had in tow.
He pulled away from you in a blink of your eye and it took you a moment to realise what went wrong.
" Anthony ? Are you..you are okay honey ? " You whsipered, he didn't look at you, staring at his hands as he could see a story you couldn't.
" I.. Anthony ? " You said again because it scared you, Anthony wasn't the one to look away, all the things that scared you was nothing against the terror, the sinking gut wrenching feeling you felt when Anthony fliched at your touch and you shivered in ache. No, don't leave me. Please, please.
It was another pain to see Anthony like a stranger, like he didn't know you. He would, he promised he would know you anywhere but this, it was threatening.
" What did you say ? " You almost thought it was the voices in your head, the agony that coated the words could never be from him.
Never to you, he was drifting away with each heavy moment and the person who was at the edge of your bed, in your shared chamber, smelling like you, wasn't the person you knew.
" Anthony—" you tried, you couldn't help the choking of your throat as those eyes were fuming in rage, maybe there was love, hiding somewhere but you couldn't find it and it broke your heart. Anthony couldn't be right.
" You don't mean that ! " He was screaming, his whole body shaking as his fist slammed the mattress in fit of rage.
A strangled hiccup escaped your throat when Anthony gripped your shoulder, hard but not bruising, like he wanted to shake you out of this feeling. He couldn't.
" You don't understand, love, love, love—" he almost cried, his nose reddening, his whole face was burning.
" —its stupid ! Means nothing, does nothing, it takes away everything..." His voice tore down deep inside you, like breaking membranes and dropping vases, it could never be the same.
" You don't understand... don't say it ! You stupid woman ! " He bellowed when you worked your jaw to say something, Don't say it, I love you—
I love you, please, please, let me love you—
But just as he said it, it wasn't Anthony, it was like your mama reminding you how stupid you were, stupid, stupid girl, she would say.
Stupid woman, he had said and everything else was slowly fading, it was starting to slow down, like watching it from away, in different bodies, like you were the doorknob or the painting on the wall because you were crumbling under his touch.
Anthony mere few inches away and you wondered what he would do if you kissed him just then, would he stop this torment?
Would he pull away, back then he didn't when they were your silent ' I love you's ' instead he drank them in, tasted your love raw and wild and now refused them in sound and wave.
" What should I say Anthony ? " You were sure they never made it out, lost somewhere in void, perhaps still coiling around your cartilage but the shocked silence that echoed between the little space between you reminded you how words crawled out after all. Even those meant to be quiet. I love you.
" Say nothing then." His voice is so small that barely register and before you could, he's inhaling large gulps of air, drifting back and back and his eyes not quite meeting yours until he turned his back to you.
He was gone for the night.
Say nothing then.
He wasn't there for the breakfast.
Say nothing then.
He wasn't there the next day.
Say nothing then.
And the day next, and one that followed—
Until you reasiled you haven't said anything in days, it wasn't so bad afterall, it was, very, very bad and lonely but it was okay, as long as Anthony would come back, it should be.
It was very quiet when Anthony stumbled back, his steps shaking and vision dizzy.
He was terribly pissed. You turned the page you only half read and focused hard on the words, Anthony stripped his clothes as he climbed the bed next to you, in an attempt to kiss your forehead like he did every night.
He wasn't there to do it for days and you didn't sleep, it could surely go on, you pulled away.
Something hurt flashed through his eyes and he looked down at the sheets, chest heaving with untaken breaths.
" Good night Viscountess." He whsipered softly and You said nothing back.
Say nothing then.
You weren't sure how you did it but you managed to untangle yourself from Anthony by dawn, you slept for the first time in days and it was over with a series of dreams, each ended with you saying I love you and Anthony saying nothing back.
Silence was louder than words, it was also harsher than words.
Watching Anthony sleep was like playing we're good with him , you weren't sure if you could cry anymore than you had already.
It felt like nothing happened and it could go back to be like before, you could press your love to his skin and it wouldn't burn and leave scars.
But you didn't want that, that was something it had became unbearable, when love bled through you, it was unstoppable and you realised how you will love him enough to make it up for both of you but he wouldn't let you. He wouldn't love you either.
The hurt was visible when his hand trembled, he tried hard to catch your eye, you focused at the honey, so sweet. Anthony didn't know but it hurt you all the same. How much burden you felt in your bones when you couldn't tell him all the things you woke up with, to tell him about your dreams — nightmares now, to tell him that you hate him so much, to kiss him until he couldn't breathe and tear everything wrenched out of him, but you couldn't.
All the more heartache when Anthony brought out the third part of your beloved novel and when the smile never came on your lips, only tears that blurred your gaze so much that you turned away from him, Anthony was shattered.
It was the second day, you hadn't said anything at all, inside screaming didn't count as one. You watched ahead as the far, far away trace of green rolling grass from your balcony. It occurred to you how horizon was made, where earth met the sky and here you were, with souls of something same, whatever they were made of, and yet you and Anthony couldn't mingle.
" Isn't it beautiful ? " He looked at you like you would answer him, he hoped too much.
Say nothing then—
" Huh.." he tried to smile, it was so small.
You stared ahead because looking at Anthony only added salt to your wound, it was aggravating.
It was after some slipped moments when he spoke in a strained small voice, hurt and broken and it shivered you.
" I was so scared...still am," he said and his voice broke, a muffled cry escaped him and you looked at him, really. You wanted to wrap your arms around him and shush away every cry, every pain, every sadness.
Say nothing—
" I thought...I thought i could just keep it away, keep you safe..from me, from love—" and he was crying, not sobbing, not whimpering but crying as big warm tears steamed down his face and he dropped to his knees in front of you, hands reaching for you like moth reaching flame and you took him, held him.
Say—
" I..I..I thought.. could—" he sniffed," couldn't, i can't pretend anymore, I don't want to leave you in pain... don't want to leave you in hurt... can't can't can't keep it in." He cried more and more and more matter how much you wiped his tears, but more fell and it was then you realised, they were yours. You were crying too.
" I am sorry, I am so, so sorry for ever hurting your my sweet love—" he swallowed hard.
" Anthony.. it's okay.. it's alright." You assured him, maybe you and him could go with your love only pressed between silence and gestures and eyes and it would be enough.
But you couldn't watch him break, wouldn't and couldn't.
" I love you." He said, voice not shaking, eyes sincere behind the gleaming tears, " I love you, always had, always would." He brought your knuckles to kiss, love pressing down in your skin. It was golden in the last rays of sun.
" Anthony you don't have to say it." You understood, atleast you did. He shaked his head and smiled through his wet face.
" No, no...let me, " he exclaimed, " I love you my baby, my lady." He smiled and it reached his eyes, you giggled softly when he pressed open mouthed kisses on your hands.
" I love you, I love you and I love you." He said, " I am a fool for ever denying it, I am a fool for you my Viscountess." He inhaled, breathing after a very long time.
" I am sorry, I love you so much baby." His lip trembled and you wanted to steady them so bad.
" I love you too Anthony, truly and completely." You kissed his forehead and he melted in your touch, and you didn't know how much time ticked away with loud and whispered and blessed I love you's and that's the way he loved you, truly and completely.
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Rigel's note 🪩 ( again) : I hope this was good, I am such a angst sucker myself<3 request through my ask box :) and can you reblog ? Please, please.
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hooffuloftootsierolls · 1 month ago
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In light of the reveal of Abel's complete design, have this dumb doodle i made on magma a week ago based on an interaction my bsf @plushtoothpanic acted out while we were joking about Vivziepop's lack of diversity(the dog character is his sona).
Also, rant below involving Abel, I don't want this to become a critical blog since Hazbin has held a special place in my heart since 2021, but oh my God I am so sick of the shit that Vivzie is pulling
Making Adam white was already quite a choice, I had a pretty specific vision of a dark-skinned curly-haired man before his face was revealed. Although I had been expecting a biblically-accurate Adam, I didn't mind having him white as long as Eve wasn't made white as well.
Abel's design throws this out the window.
First let's focus on Abel being the child of Adam and Eve. This means Eve is white, and likely also blonde. Historically, the first humans were East/South African, and not white. Ok, well what about biblically? The popular depictions of biblical figures are mainly European interpretations from when Europe adapted the Bible and made all the figures pale, like them. It's more likely that the dark-skinned writers that originally complied stories into the Bible meant for the figures to look more like them. It would make more sense if one or both of them was dark.
Saint Peter is a whole nother' piss drawer that I don't wanna open, but whitewashing an actual human being that existed is just so gross.
Now, the other thing I wanna talk about that talks less about race and more about theories surrounding Abel being blonde... People were already theorizing that maybe one of the kids was Lucifer's spawn because of the implied affair with Eve. It wasn't the most popular theory but now it's making a comeback with the reveal of Abel's complete design.
I dislike this theory(besides the fact that it's just stupid) because
1. Cain is Adam and Eve's firstborn son. Abel is their second. Even if Eve and Lucifer had an affair in Eden, that would result in Cain, not Abel. Also we aren't entirely aware of Lucifer's powers involving entering the living world but I doubt he can canonically go there, or at least not after Adam and Eve were expelled from the Garden, since Hell was made as a punishment for him and any mortal that sins and I don't think he would be able to waltz back to Earth that easily. I suppose maybe they could be twins and Cain could just have been the first one born, but I don't think that's usually what "firstborn" implies, or how it's generally interpreted?
2. This is gonna look really bad on Lucifer's part?? Like, this implies that Lilith left Adam for Lucifer, then Lucifer got with Eve(possibly cheating on Lilith if she wasn't aware/didn't consent to the affair) and cucked Adam for a second time???? Lucifer would straight-up be getting the Stolas treatment where they keep making him more and more shitty then try to justify it anyways. Cmon guys.. I wanna be able to cheer for Lucifer too but he doesn't seem remorseful at all for anything he's done, more like he's been playing the victim for a decamillennium despite being a possible cheater and the one who destroyed Adam and Eve's life.
3. How would this be plot-relevant at all?? My closest guess is to make a disconnect from Adam like "oh he was never my ACTUAL father anyways" and also to try and make a bond with Abel and Charlie being blood-related so he would decide to side with her or something. Also on top of that I hate the whole trope of someone suddenly not giving a fuck about the parents who raised them in favor of their biological parents who didn't raise them. It's a dumb trope and if this theory is canon and they pull something like that.... ughh.
yeah. Overall, too many Aryans, pleasepleasepleaseplease pleaseeep please don't make Eve white even though I know they will anyways, and if that stupid theory is true then Lucifer is a snake-tongued, home-wrecking, unfaithful pile of shit that is disguised as a poor depressed dad that the fandom eats up and woobifies. Not that I don't want him to have flaws, but he doesn't seem very sorry for what he did(he has his whole snake and apple motif, that's like saying you feel guilty for a murder then using the hyper-specific murder weapon as your symbol) and also Abel being his son would be such an unnecessary plotline that would make him look soooo so so so so much worse because he wouldn't have much of a wholesome excuse for that.
The only good things I'm getting out of this are that I can post about Abel without having to tag it as leaks and also people are cracking jokes about Abel being the son of Lucifer and Adam
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not-rigel · 2 months ago
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I'm listening
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Rating: M
Warning: description of depression, depressive spiral, self loathing, soft sevika, sevika comforts you, sevikas love language is gift giving, words of affirmation is a very close second, I wrote this to cope with my emotions I hope that serves as a BIG WARNING, literally didnt sleep because I was writing this.
WC: 1.4
Darkness embraces you, literally and mentally, while you sit in your room. It's the dead of the night, the worst time for thoughts like the ones crowding your mind to exist. Each horrible thought stacked one atop the other, increasing in cruelty. 
A knock comes at your door and you're ready to pretend you're not home but you hear a familiar voice calling your name. 
“Open up. I got your fancy knife you asked for,” Sevika says on the other side of the door. 
You remember you mentioned wanting a specific knife, and Sevika offered to find it for you. But you didn't expect her to show up at your door in the middle of the night and you certainly didn't want her visit to occur in the middle of a spiral. You'd ask her to leave it by the door but you don't want any of your neighbors to help themselves to your new weapon. 
Shelving your self hatred, you make the exhausting walk to your door and open it for her. Sevika hears your footsteps approach and has the knife held out for you to take. She couldn't wait to give it to you, excited to see your reaction. 
But when you open the door and glance down at the knife in her hand, you don't look delighted. Instead you're indifferent. Sevika suddenly questions if she somehow misremembered which knife she was supposed to get you. 
“Did I get the wrong one?” She turns it over in her hand, checking the engraving on the hilt. She confirms it's the one you wanted. 
“Nothing like that. It's beautiful. I'm just too tired to appreciate it. Haven't been able to sleep tonight,” you half-lie. You gingerly take it from her hand and try to close the door but she holds it open. 
“Wait, I got you something else too,” she digs into her back pocket and pulls out a lighter. “For your candles,” she explains. Months ago she noticed you kept a candle lit inside your home so she brings you a new one whenever she can. A nice lighter felt like a long overdue addition. 
Still, you don't react and it worries Sevika. This can't just be because you're tired. She's been around you enough to know what you're like when you're sleep deprived and this wasn't it. She knows better than to outright ask if you're okay so she tries a different approach. 
“Is there something going on that I don't know about? I can tell you're not just tired,” she pries. 
“Personal shit. Nothing to worry about. Thanks for the knife and lighter. I really do appreciate it.” 
“Can you talk to me about it?” 
“I don't know. You probably won't understand.” You're trying to reject her support but Sevika won't stand for it. 
“Try me,” she urges and for a reason you cannot decipher, you pull your door wider so she can step in, shutting and locking it behind her. She's been in your home several times, walking over to your couch and taking a seat like it's her own. You timidly sit next to her, picking your cuticles and holding a staring contest with the floor. It takes a while for your words to find you. 
“I uh… Just keep having bad thoughts. It starts out small like… I'm not going to get enough sleep in time for work tomorrow then it becomes I'm not good enough at my job because I can't get enough sleep at night and it makes me perform badly. Then it's just… I'm not good enough period because no matter what I do, I'll mess up in some way and I'm just running around aimless. Trying one thing after another like it'll ever work out. All I could think before you showed up was I'm a failure,” you unload a few of your thoughts to Sevika and she listens intently. 
You're a bit caught by surprise when her strong arms wrapped around your shoulders. She gently pulls you across the couch and into her chest. Her right hand cups the back of your neck. 
When she speaks there's only softness in her voice, “I understand. I can't stop you from having those thoughts but I understand. Tell me more,” she soothes, determined to help you through this. She's never heard you speak like this, never heard such harsh words from your mouth. And it killed her inside that they were about yourself. 
You pull back to look up at her. Sevika was usually so stony, expression steeled into a scowl. But all of that roughness was gone. It's too intense and you look back to the floor. 
“I feel ridiculous and repulsive and stupid and worthless and hopeless and empty and like there's no fix for it. It's like I'm remembering every bad memory at once.”
Her hand moved to your chin, tilting your head upwards gently so she could look at you properly.
“I'm going to tell you something, but I need you to look me in the eyes okay?” she asks you, knowing she's asking for a lot at the moment. Even if it's a gesture as small as eye contact. You frown as you fight to pull your gaze from the floor. Sevika watches the struggle heartbroken but she knows you can do it. Eventually, your eyes meet hers and she sighs in relief. 
Her fingers move from your chin to your cheek, holding you to keep your gaze on her, “Listen closely, okay? I need you to not look away. Can you do that? For me?” 
“I'm listening,” you promise, now that you're looking at her you're not able to break from her hypnotic stare. She takes a moment to think of what to say. 
“You’re a good person. Not just a good person, a great person. You don't deserve the blame you give yourself,” she affirms and you listen to every word. You face twitches, lips trying to pull into a frown and brows trying to pinch into a furrow. The words aren't enough to get past the wall but they weaken the foundation. 
“You still listening?” She checks in, making sure you won't shut down. She knows she would try to tune out every word to avoid feeling their weight. 
You nod, eyes welling with tears and sniffling up the snot that drips from your nose. 
“Good. Keep listening,” she continued to hold eye contact with you, “You're smart, you're resourceful, you're good at what you do, you're appreciated, and you're loved.” 
You can't stop the tears now. Sevika avoids lying, feeling like people only lie when they have something to gain and there's nothing she wants from most people. If anything, Sevika felt using the truth is what earns the most. With your tears streaming down your cheeks and falling onto her thumb, she earned the sight of seeing you vulnerable. Sevika has never held something so fragile before. You were so frail, looking up at her with glassy eyes that made her afraid if she moved a finger you would shatter. But when she wiped the tears from your cheek, you remained intact. 
“I- I'm loved?” you heave between cries. Love is a strong word and it's rarely uttered in the Undercity so it's hard to know who really cares about you. You felt guilty for doubting Sevika's words, knowing she's trying her best to comfort you. 
“You're loved by me,” her confession is groundbreaking. Her thumb moved to feel the stream of tears, not wiping them away but allowing them to exist. 
“I never said it but I love you. And I have so many reasons to. Because you're more capable than you believe yourself to be. Because you're resilient. Because you mean the world to me. But mostly because you need love and I need to be the one who gives it to you.” 
Sevika needs to give you everything you need, needs to be the one to hold your face like this every time you cry. Needs to be the one to tell you how beautiful and wonderful you are. She needs to be the one you seek. Be the one to bring you gifts because she can't help but think about you.
“I love you too, Sevika. I'm sorry but … I wish I knew the person you're describing,” you sobbed. 
“No, don't apologize. You are that person, you might not see it that way but you are the person I'm describing. You'll see it one day. I promise. Don't let anyone, not even yourself, convince you that you're any other than the person I'm describing. Are you listening to me?” 
“Yes, I'm listening.” 
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mariasont · 1 month ago
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hi love 🫶🏻 could you write spencer x reader inspired by taylor's "renegade"? there is one fic like that but spencer is as the one taylor sings about there and i was thinking you could maybe do the opposite where reader is the one who this song is about? idk if my explanation makes sense 😭 anyway, have a nice day!!
Messy - S.R
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a/n: okay i wasn't sure if this is exactly what you wanted but i hope i did it justice and im so thankful you sent me this request <3 im so sorry it took soooo long for me to get to it, ilysm i hope you're having the best day
also this one is so near and dear to my heart like i choked myself up writing this hahahah so i hope you all enjoy
masterlist
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pairings: spencer reid x reader
warnings: depression, unhealthy coping methods, hopeful ending <3
wc: 1.5k
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The clock on the wall ticked quietly, a soft sound that somehow seemed louder in the silence of the apartment. The hour hand had long since crept past midnight, but you stayed where you were--curled up on the couch, knees pulled to your chest, a forgotten book spread open in your lap. This is where you had been for an amount of time that you were embarrassed to admit.
The words on the page blurred together, your eyes tracing the same sentence for the fifth time. You weren't really reading. Not anymore.
The faint sound of Spencer's footsteps broke the quiet as he appeared out of the darkened hallway. You didn't need to look up to know he was watching you, a concerned crease in his brow and sleep tousling his hair. You could feel his gaze--soft, searching and damningly knowing.
"You're still awake." It wasn't a question.
You shifted, turning the page like you were engrossed in the story, even though you hadn't absorbed a word. When you glanced up at him, you shot him a smile--a careful, practiced one that didn't quite reach your eyes.
"Couldn't sleep."
Spencer didn't say anything right away, but you could hear him moving closer, the weight of his steps seeming hesitant--like he wasn't sure whether you wanted company or space.
You weren't sure either.
The thought of him sitting next to you wrapped around your lungs like a too-tight band, the way it always did when someone got too close. And yet, the thought of him staying away constricted something deeper, something you weren't sure you could name.
Finally, the corner of the couch dipped as he sat beside you, close enough for the invisible wall you had built to feel less solid. It felt like something similar to sunlight filtering through a curtain's tear.
"What's on your mind?"
You blinked, fingers picking at the worn edges of the book's pages as if they might pull apart and reveal something you weren't able to put into words.
"Nothing." You said it too quickly. Brittle. Then, because you could feel his eyes on you--seeing through you--you added, "It's silly, really. Just overthinking.
You tried to make it sound dismissive, punctuating it with a small laugh that you were sure came out quiet and hollow. "You don't need to worry about me, Spence. I'm fine."
"Fine," he repeated softly, like the word tasted wrong on his tongue.
His voice was so gentle, but you could feel every last bit of unspoken concern wrapped inside it, the way it always was when you said you were fine. You hated that--hated that he could see through the cracks you worked so hard to hide. You wanted to tell him it was better this way, safer for both of you. You didn't want to scare him or worse drag him into the parts of yourself that felt sharp and broken.
You could almost hear the wheels turning in his head, cataloging your body language, the way your smile faltered, the way you fidgeted with the book like you needed to keep your hands busy to avoid cracking open.
Spencer tilted his head, continuing to study you, but he didn't call you out on the lie. He never did--not directly. Instead, he adjusted his posture, sinking further into the couch like he intended to stay.
"What are you reading?" He nodded towards the book in your lap.
You glanced at the cover and felt the heat creep up your neck. 
"Oh, um... something I grabbed off the shelf earlier." You flipped it shut, careful not to let him see how little progress you'd actually made. "It's good. Just... taking my time with it."
It was such a small thing to lie about, but you were clinging to any shred of normalcy. You didn't want him to see this version of you--the one who stared blankly at pages, lost in spirals you couldn't quite explain.
"That's okay, you know," Spencer said quietly. "Taking your time."
You knew he wasn't talking about the book, not really. Before you could deflect, his hand moved gently across the space between you, his fingertips brushing up and down the length of your arm.
The touch was so soft--barely there--but it distracted you. You exhaled, a breath you hadn't realized you were holding, and let your eyes flutter shut for just a moment. It had been so long since you let yourself be in his presence, let yourself lean into him without pulling away.
“Did you know that depression physically changes the brain,” Spencer said suddenly, his voice low and conversational, like he was talking about a science fact and not you. “It affects the hippocampus, the amygdala—the areas responsible for regulating memory, emotion, and stress.”
You swallowed, opening your eyes again, fingers still fussing with the book. “Spence…”
He continued, his tone gentle, as though he were easing you into the truth. "The hippocampus actually shrinks during prolonged depression. That's the part of the brain responsible for processing memories, for distinguishing between what's important and what's not. That's why it feels so hard to concentrate. Why sometimes everything feels... too much, even the little things."
You stilled under his touch, gaze focused on the closed book. The words he was saying were clinical, sure, but the way he was saying it made your heart clench.
"And the amygdala?" he continued. "It's the emotional center of the brain. In people with depression, it becomes overactive, and the body starts reacting to stress like it's always in fight-or-flight mode. Even when there's no threat. Even when you're safe."
Spencer paused, letting the words sink in, his fingers tracing slow, soothing lines down your arm. You could feel him watching you, but you couldn't look at him yet. You weren't sure you wanted him to see the tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. 
“I’m not trying to analyze you,” he added quickly. “I know it probably sounds like that. But I'm telling you this because I want you to understand that it's not all in your head."
He hesitated, then nudged you gently, his hand squeezing your arm as if to reinforce his words. "This isn't some character flaw or something you've invented. Your brain--your body--feels this, physically. It's real."
You blinked, and the first tear fell. His words cracked something inside you--not because they hurt, but because you hadn't realized how badly you needed to hear them.
"It's like..." Spencer searched for the right words, brow furrowing. "It's like being stuck in a room with a broken thermostat. You're freezing, and everyone else is telling you it's warm because they can't feel what you feel. But just because they can't see it doesn't mean it isn't happening. You're not imagining the cold."
"You're not a problem that needs solving," he murmured. "You're not too much. You're enough, exactly as you are."
Something snapped in your chest--sharp, small, and unexpected.
"I'm not trying to save you," Spencer continued, like he could sense the thought forming on your tongue. "I just... I want you to let me stand beside you. Even if it's messy. Even if it's hard."
You sniffled, swiping quickly at the tear trailing down your cheek, and glanced up at him with a small, wobbly smile. 
"Even if it's messy?" Your voice trembled slightly, but the hint of a laugh broke through--soft and fragile, like glass. "You hate messes."
Spencer's lips quirked into a smile, and for a moment, the tension in the room shifted. The air felt a little lighter.
"That's true," he admitted. "But I'll make an exception. For you."
You let out a watery laugh, the sound catching somewhere in your throat, and it startled you--how good it felt to laugh, even through tears. Spencer smiled wider, like seeing that microscopic spark of light in you was enough.
He shifted closer than, his hand sliding from your arm to cradle your cheek, his touch soft and careful, as though he were afraid you might pull away. "Even if it's messy."
And then he kissed you--soft and slow, his lips brushing yours with infinite gentleness, as though he were trying to tell you everything he couldn't express aloud. For a heartbeat, you tensed. The instinct to pull back, to close yourself off, flared up like it always did. But Spencer didn't push; he simply stayed, giving you a choice.
So you let yourself lean into him.
The tension melted from your shoulders as you kissed him back, the faint taste of salt lingering between you where tears still clung to your lips. His hand stayed against your cheek. When he finally pulled back, his forehead resting against yours, you finally let out a shaky breath you hadn't realized you'd been holding.
"Do you want to go to bed?"
You glanced at the book still resting on your lap. The Bell Jar. Your hand hovered over the book's spine, the instinct to cling to it, but you let your hand fall away.
"Yeah," you said softly. 
The book stayed on the couch, closed, forgotten as you rose from the couch and let him guide you toward the bedroom.
And maybe, just maybe, the glass was beginning to crack.
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shipmansflannels · 9 months ago
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"who asked first" with the yellowjackets
yay! I'm back! the decision to open a new blog just for yellowjackets wasn't easy at all, but since it's been a year since this obsession has barely gone away and I already had an extremely confusing blog with layouts and the like, I wanted to start over with this one. hope you like it. I'll make a very simple and small prompt first, and then I'll make the masterlist and the oneshots/fanfics. stay tuned! sorry for any grammatical or coherence errors, english is not my first language and I'm trying to improve!
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who asked first with the yellowjackets girls...
jackie taylor.
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well, if we're going to be honest here, you definitely asked first.
of course, jackie had already been rehearsing for weeks how he would ask you out. but she's obviously a girlfaillure, so you definitely asked first.
it was probably when she least expected it. it could be at soccer practice, or when you were coming home from school together and you had the audacity to ask her to go out with her to some hypothetical and boring place in the middle of the street… whatever.
all I know is that this little loser was eager for you to ask, and she definitely rolled out the classic, "took you too long…"
shauna shipman.
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again, you asked first.
shauna doesn't have the social tact to ask you out (she's just like me), and drunk is even worse, so you actually had to make the first move most of the time.
just like jackie, it could have been when she was at soccer practice, or when she was alone enough to vent to her journal and you were able to get close to her without scaring her. anyway, the thing is, shauna was already secretly expecting this to happen (a lot of her journal pages were about you btw), so it wasn't a surprise either when you asked her out.
despite everything, you didn't have any difficulties on your first date. she's pleasant company, I suppose.
natalie scatorccio.
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one of the rare exceptions where she asked first.
okay, don't be fooled, either. natalie is very cocky from time to time, but asking to go out with you is definitely one of the times she tends to weaken. so, kevyn probably dared her to do it and she just took advantage of her cooler personality to use it on you.
but that doesn't mean it's a bad thing. in fact, it's kind of a good thing (and probably depressing for her) because she only felt like herself when she asked you. I see in nat a huge tendency to ignore some of her feelings, especially when it comes to people she likes.
the invitation was probably also full of teasing on her part, from body language to the words used for it. and somehow she made it look cool and convinced you to accept it.
things that only natalie scatorccio could do.
lottie matthews.
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for some reason, I'm 100% sure you asked first.
I know many of us think of lottie as a completely carefree, liberal and often bitchy enough person to ask someone out on a date. but, if we count the pre-crash, I think she was a very insecure person and uncertain of her feelings, more due to the influence of the pills.
so, as incredible as it sounds, you asked first. it was in an extremely relaxed conversation between you that the invitation ended up unintentionally, and she was visibly panicked when she agreed.
lottie is probably the type of person who has a rehearsed speech in front of the mirror while getting ready, and with her enviable style and expensive clothes (some stolen), she would do anything to make your date the perfect date.
taissa turner.
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she asked first.
taissa is confident enough to ask you out, I have no doubt about that. but she definitely spent weeks planning the perfect invitation, just in case everything went wrong and she needed to run (just like what happened when she thought about breaking allie's leg before nationals).
anyway, taissa would certainly ask first and it would be quite a surprise for you. taking into account that, from the moment you accepted, you would discover that van also knew about her friend's ideas, and later that half of the team also knew. it would be a shock because you wouldn't understand tai's intentions at first.
but none of them are necessarily bad. one, is that tai was really excited if you accepted, and her anxiety couldn't stop her from wanting to tell the world. two, because she was overly excited that you had agreed to go out with her, and wanted the world to know it as well.
van palmer.
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as much as I would really like to prove otherwise, you asked first.
van has the same problem as lottie, but in her case, it's excessively because of the sarcasm jokes and high charisma. she thinks she's being too much for you and that asking for something like that on this level would end up scaring you away.
in the end, it's totally the opposite, but it's going to take van a long time to figure that out, specifically. the invitation would happen when she least expected it, probably when you were feeling confident enough to pass notes to her during classes.
it's a cute invitation, and one that van would hold in question for a long, long time.
misty quigley.
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there would be no other answer. she asked first.
misty has no shame in admitting that she has a crush on you. and of course, to ask you out on a date, this shame decreases even more. she doesn't even care if she will be made fun of by her colleagues, what really matters is that she planned everything for you to accept.
and when I say everything, it really means everything.
from the moment she will slide up to your table and quietly ask if you accept, to the tone of voice she will use to persuade your brain to accept, to the place she will take you hand in hand and then let it slide. … she literally thought of every detail.
and, well, knowing misty quigley's ability to create plans, the whole thing worked out… until you figured it all out and admitted that you liked it even more, much to her surprise.
laura lee.
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you asked first, of course. there would be no other answer either.
of course, not ruling out the possibility of laura lee asking first, given her hidden impulsive personality, but, in this case, taking the obviousness into account, you asked, and had to be careful with every line said in the invitation.
of course, it needed to be at a time when you were alone, because you were afraid that pressure from other people would make you feel suffocated. this, of course, did not happen. she thought it was a classic weekend outing, like you guys usually did, until she realized your real intentions.
and, truly, at no point did it make her feel restrained or scared. she was ready to be vulnerable and be herself around you, no matter what.
(but, if you casually ask lottie at some point, she will definitely claim that she saw laura lee rehearsing some speeches and compliments for you in the locker room mirror…)
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