#and being switches sometimes muddies the waters

[hyenaboycunt]

Tiny bit annoyed with my pet. This is the first time I've had her wear a collar for an extended time, so I'm not surprised there have been some speed bumps. However. I'm a bit insulted that it's falling short on some very simple, very direct orders. I'm feeling a bit disrespected if I'm being fully honest.

For the most part it's been a good experience. But she's going to hear about my feelings on this when we talk tomorrow.

[omgshiftercat]

I have a friend whose ex, a minor celebrity in some circles, was abusive.

Shortly after she and some other women went public about it, there were some people who chimed in talking about other misdeeds of his.

Her ex was, and is, a loathsome waste of oxygen, and the words, "...who deserves every accusation leveled at him" would almost escape my lips...

...Except that some of the accusations people began throwing around because they (understandably) hated this guy weren't true.

This did not help my friend at all! It muddied the waters, and gave her awful ex ammunition for his claims that people were just out to get him, and were willing to make stuff up to smear him.

Switching gears: there's been a lot of discussion recently about how some brilliant and influential art has been created by objectively terrible people. Part of that discussion has been calling out people who say, "Their work always sucked," or "I never liked it." Not only are statements like this unhelpful, they provide cover for predators. If you insist that your tastes reflect your morality, you're giving yourself a huge blind spot, and making it easy to dismiss evidence of harm done by creators you happen to like.

This is one reason why I think exhibits like this one are important: they help teach that lesson.

Three notes on this: 1. by the time of that exhibition, Gill was long dead and therefore unable to profit from it.

2. This kind of thing isn't necessary for every artist, because not every creator does heinous things.

3. My friend's ex is nowhere near the artistic league of Eric Gill or any of the other creators I'll discuss.

Switching gears again...

If someone mentions a bespectacled British boy wizard with an owl familiar, in a modern setting with "secret world" magic, the name that springs to mind is most likely "Harry Potter", right?

But Timothy Hunter, from The Books of Magic, was published a full seven years before that. I was working in a bookstore when the novelizations for the BoM comics came out, and had to tell kids that no, this was not a HP rip-off.

I don't think the reverse was true, either: for one thing, The Books of Magic is set in the DC Universe, and I've never heard of JKR reading superhero comics. But also... sometimes completely separate creators will come up with strikingly similar ideas, utterly by coincidence. It's one reason why most authors tell fans NOT to send them ideas or fanfiction based on their work: there is rarely any good way to prove that you didn't steal a concept.

Now, obviously every creator is influenced by other people's works, and I completely agree that it's good to acknowledge that and to point fans towards your influences!

When Rowling began channeling her resources into making life worse for trans folk, I saw a lot of people saying, "Well, Harry Potter was just a mediocre rip-off of The Worst Witch anyway."

While I haven't read that series, I strongly doubt this claim. The idea of magic schools is older and more widespread than either of those series, and "British boarding school hijinks, but it's a magic school" was bound to be written more than once.

Now, some of you already know, and others have looked up, who originally wrote Tim Hunter. And... yeah, it's Neil Gaiman. *sigh*

In the last few days, I've seen some people saying, "The Sandman ripped off Tanith Lee's Tales from the Flat Earth." They cite a number of similarities: Azhrarn, the Lord of Darkness, is a pale-skinned, raven-haired Byronic figure with a sibling-like relationship to the Lord of Death and the Lord of Madness. Like the Endless, these beings are god-like, but specifically not gods. Apparently some people have mistaken fanart of Azhrarn for Morpheus. And Chuz, Prince Madness, has a bisected appearance, half his face horribly messed up, like the demoness Mazikeen.

But speaking as someone who was a fan of the late Tanith Lee years before I picked up an issue of The Sandman: I don't believe the latter was stolen from the former. Are there similarities? Yes, but they're superficial. If you've read both series, as I have, you'll know that the stories, settings, and characters are very different!

It's possible Gaiman was influenced by Lee's writing, and if so, I agree he should have acknowledged that. He did promote the work of other female creators, which is one reason why many of us thought he was "one of the good ones". But it's also entirely possible that these two authors independently came up with similar ideas.

When it comes right down to it, I think that statements like this -- "their best work was just a rip-off of something else" -- are just another variant of "their work always sucked".

It's often an easier accusation than "they've always been crap", because, as I said, writers come up with strikingly similar concepts all the time, and it's very hard to prove you didn't steal an idea. But it has the same problems, so -- barring the kind of case you could make with a college-level plagiarism-catching program -- I think it's best avoided.

Now, telling people, "Hey, are you sad about this creator turning out to be an awful person to whom you don't want to give any more money? Try this other person's work instead!" This is good! Let's have more of it!

Addendum 1: I think "separate the art from the artist" should mean, "you don't have to treat books already on your shelf as if they're suddenly coated in poison", not "I'm going to ignore this creator's actions and keep buying their products anyway."

Addendum 2: I just posted a version of this to Bluesky.

[cm-lily]

I read a fanfic once, I forgot which one. But in that fic, they have this idea where Gem and Grian's base has this... Foggy vibe to it. Like compare it to the cherry mountain that's all pink and petals and then you have these two bases which are straight up The Horrors™

I Just love that idea

So much I've been thinking, what if the whole Magic Mountain is surrounded by fog? A magic fog and mist that just always surround the area and got thicker as the sun set further. The area always seems cloudy. As if there is an eternal cloud forever covering the mountains. It's either raining, or storm, or cloudy. The only time it's clear is when Grian finally got his mending book, the pink snail arrive, and it switch to storm when Scar got the mending book. (He got struck by lightning a few time if he reaches that area)

Joel's base not only has lantern illuminating it, but souls as well. They didn't stay idle, but never went too far. Some of them even transform, Into tanuki or fox or wolves and even Koi fish and Axolotl. That fly in the air instead of water, obviously.

Sometimes there's things passing by on Impulse's build. Something tall and slender, with long limbs and sharp claws. They're not Enderman, Enderman don't crawl. Impulse said they're cool if you pretend they didn't exist and just let them... Lurks around.

Something is wrong with Mumbo's base. I want to call it decaying, but it's not. It's more like redstone veins appear around the blackened grass, the air smells like gunpowder and something acid. Or maybe copper.

Many hermits had reported seeing the sight of a statue angel that just appear on top of Skizz's unfinished Pyramid. It appear when they're looking at it, but then they look around and it's gone. The statue has never been in the same position everytime someone look at it.

Most people don't like going to Scar's base at night, not only because of how creepy it look like surrounded by those fog. Like the rest of them, something strange always happens. Like animals looking bigger and more beast-like the moment night arrive, ever seen a cow just grows multiple horns and it sounds like those horn are breaking out of it's skull? Or that one time, one time his horse stand up on two feet? Probably not. Scar said they're harmless. Except for the snail—he said. The snail isn't his. That's why they damaged his build and become a nuisance.

(There was once a time, a time where clouds whirled around his ore pillar, clouds that are made of limbs and hand and eyes and it just stretched and climb down from the pillar. It never reach the ground, fortunately.)

Grian never stopped fishing. Even if it rains or stormed outside. He's smelly and that's why snails like him and his horse don't. Totally not because Pluto saw him turn into giant mer-man with many eyes and tails and sharp tooth. Definitely not. Don't feel weird when you feel like you're being watched. Or because shadow-like silhouette wander around his wheat farm, or a silhouette of something massive that was illuminated everytime lightning strikes, looking down from the cherry mountain toward his and Gem's base and, occasionally, you felt like you found a body you recognize in the water—

And that's where Gem comes in! Gem is someone who stopped you before you decide to jump in the water and check who's that corpse is. And the one who shooed off the many eyes that lurk in the muddy river side of Grian's base. Grian hates her for that but there's nothing he can do. Gem, like Grian, is someone who can walk in the middle of the storm unharmed. Most of the time, she make sure that none of the hermits fell into the trick of her other neighbors.

just don't let that distract you from the fact one of her build is actually sentient and breathing and is always staring at you. Or the fact there's blood around the rocky shores if you squint into the dark river/soon-to-be-ocean. Or the fact that, just like the angler, the skull always felt like it's watching even if there's no actually eyes in it's socket. Gem is always present when you want to have a tour or just so happened to passed that area, but... If she's not there to guide you, would it even be worth it to be stabbed with a trident and got dragged into the water?

[diyasgarden]

Dyt which one of them is preferred tea over coffee?

i talked about this a bit here, but i’d love to expand on it :)

Tashi drinks tea because she views it as a better option than coffee. It helps her stay calmer. Like she meditates, she is 100% a tea drinker. She drinks different teas based on different times of the day depending on what would be best when. She’d def try getting the people around her to follow her tea routine too, so if you’re around her when she is going to drink a certain tea, she’d make it for you too. Although, when she gets older I can see her drinking a bit more coffee because she isn’t playing and she needs the stronger dose of caffeine. Regardless at her core, a tea drinker!!

I just can’t see Art as a bitter drink enjoyer. I think he would like the energy boost coffee gives, but also how with the right add ins it can become creamy and sweet. Like a dessert. He stops when he goes professional simply because it isn’t good for him. I can see him drinking black coffee after that for sometime. Not a lot, just for the energy boost. He probably makes a face while drinking it that you always tease him for. I bet he picks up green tea because Tashi asked him to when she started coaching him. It does help with his metabolism, and he can see the benefits. Regardless he doesn’t like it, so he switches back to his sugary coffee when he retires.

Like I said, I think Patrick would prefer energy drinks (pretty sure he was drinking red bull at one point in the movie), but between the tea and coffee I see him more as a coffee person. He would have like black coffee too or espresso shots. I knew a kid who would put energy drinks into coffee, and I can see him do that too. He is probably an ass who makes a joke about tea being muddy water, but I feel like if you made him try tea he’d end up liking it.

[eris-snow]

𝐇𝐢𝐬 𝐁𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐝𝐚𝐲

Tags: bakugou x fem!reader, bakugou's birthday series 2023

Update: This has been edited through and apologies for the first draft being crap

Finally.

Bakugou knows this is your doing.

The party streamers.

Sato’s delicious cake.

The fucking balloons.

All of these fine preparations had your name scrawled all over them. Heck, most of the class was downstairs today and it was all thanks to you.

Bakugou watches Kirishima with lazy eyes as he and Kaminari battled each other furiously with the Nintendo switches in the living room.

Mario Kart, he scoffs. How amusing.

So many things had happened over their first year, and given Shigaraki’s recent defeat, everyone was still in the celebratory mood. Hell, Deku, the literal savior of the world, had his eyes water with big, fat droplets when Bakugou decided to accept his present, resulting in more yelling that only made the party burst with life.

The waterworks weren’t ending anytime soon, because when the blond decided to thank the nerd, said nerd had morphed into a leaking fountain with wails of joy on the side.

Even with all that power coursing through his body, Izuku still retained his bawling from when he was a brat.

The cake Sato made was probably the best part.

Everyone had insisted on inserting 16 melting candles into the cake just so they could see him blow them out.

His friends are a bunch of saps.

He’s done this before. Set the table, insert candles, sing a song, make a wish and blow them out. Finally, as he cuts the cake while polite, muddy applause and cheers whoop around him, he officially becomes a year older. Despite his reservations, doesn’t really have a choice.

His wish has always been the same: to surpass All Might and to become a number 1 hero. This year, however, he decides to squeeze in one more.

I wish to be a hero who surpasses All Might and to be the number one hero, he recites in his brain as he glares down at the candles. They burn brightly, as if reacting to his fustration. Glancing up, Bakugou shoots you a look, glare dissolving in a way it always has whenever he looks at you.

And that maybe… sometime down the road…I’d get with that ray of Sunshine sitting over there.

–

He can’t fucking find you.

Bakugou growls as he rips off the party hat Mina had forced onto him, yelling as he hunts you down to every inch of the living room.

Part of him wants him to just leave. It’s late and there’s still school tomorrow, so he really should go but…

He needs to thank you.

Of course, out of all the people here, you, the person who planned it, were absent. You’ve done so much for him and the least he could do was thank you.

Katsuki Bakugou isn’t going to give in to his slumber just because he slept late the previous night.

He can afford to fix his fucked up sleep schedule tomorrow.

Next thing he knows, he finds himself stalking out of the dorms to leave his own goddamn party you planned out for him. The blond isn’t escaping.

He just…needs a breather. Yes, that’s it. He’s so physically, mentally and emotionally drained that it makes him wonder if he’s ever going to get over you.

If he’s ever going to be able to finally look at you in the eyes and admit, I don’t like you, straight in the face. If he’s ever going to let go of this stupid crush he has on you and focus on being the number one hero. He doesn’t need you after all, so why is he out here—?

“Why are you out here?” A new voice voiced, and internally Bakugou curses.

Ah, crap.

He knows who that is.

–

Your first thought was to question why Bakugou had come out here. It was past curfew and all of your classmates were in there too. But no. Instead, he had to come to your usual meet-up spot in the dead of the night on pure instinct.

Your second thought was to notice how good he looked. In the soft glow of the lights from the dorm rooms, he seemed almost soft if it weren’t for the fact that he had a crease in between his eyebrows and a scowl on his face. Clinging onto the present you wrapped mere seconds ago, you meet his eyes and voice your question.

“Why are you out here?”

Bakugou pauses, eyeing you for a second.

“Shit’s too noisy in there,” He says, shoving his hand in his pockets. “Mind if I join you?”

You tighten your grip on your clumsily wrapped gift. “Go ahead.”

There’s silence as the mat rustles noisily when he sits beside you.

Bakugou breaks the ice first. “You planned this shit, didn’t you,” he asks, raising an eyebrow. “Damn Deku handled the people and you handled the rest, right?”

Sputtering in surprise, your back goes rigid. “How did you-?”

“I have eyes, moron.” He replies sharply, effectively shutting you up. His eyes soften. “And it’s because you’re you, Sunshine.” He mutters. “I know you. Only you would do this kinda thing for me. And maybe Deku, but that’s beside the point.”

You let out a huff, thanking God that he couldn’t see how red your face was. Now that it was a little less awkward, the atmosphere a little more lighter, you take in a deep breath and bring up your gift. “Right. This is for you,”

You gingerly plop it on his lap, facing him properly to gauge his reaction. Honestly, getting Bakugou a gift was as difficult as getting Shoto to get along with his dad. After careful consideration and a poorly drawn out flowchart that took you weeks (the day of the quirk accident was a major set back for you), you’d decided on the one with the least number of cons, and the most personal one.

This decision was made last night. You know that you aren’t exactly the best at meeting deadlines, but even for you this was cutting it close.

Bakugou gives you a quizzical stare, but shreds the wrapping paper off and gazes at your gift for one entire minute.

“You got me a photo album?”

He finally says, already making a move to open it. Inside, there’s a bunch of silly photos of the idiots, you and him.

Why are you so thoughtful, you cheery cinnamon roll?

You smile at him, face melting into relief as you flush red in embarrassment, watching him sift through the photos you picked out. You were trying not to get your hopes up because whatever reaction he had given was nowhere near concrete evidence if he liked it or not-

“This is amazing, Sunshine,” He interjects your thoughts with his own, flipping to one of the selfies you took while he accidentally photobombed you.

It was the first photo you both ever took ‘together’.

Well, there’s concrete evidence that Bakugou likes it. Oh boy, your heart was going to explode. Bakugou smirks a little as he skims it and slams it shut.

“I want part 2 next year.” He grins, tucking the black album between his arms as he reaches over to you.

Your breath hitches as he touches your hair.

What the hell was he thinking-

Cherry blossoms fall all around you and Bakugou swipes one out of your hair before you can even react. His hand lingers though.

“Flowers in your hair,” He grumbles, drawing his hand away.

He takes the warmth away with him.

“What you staring at me like that for, Dumbass?” He grunts, still looking over the flower he plucked out of your hair. “Got something to say?”

You want to say so many things that it’s uncountable at this point.

You want to say your feelings to him, how he makes butterflies scatter in your stomach. How safe it feels to be with him, even if it’s just you and him against the world. How amazing it is, to stand by his side and call yourself his friend. But how can you tell someone to wait for you when they don’t even like you in the first place?

Another cherry blossom dances down, this time landing on his head.

Reaching up instinctively, you gingerly sweep your fingers through his hair and remove it. Bakugou almost blows up the mat you were sitting on.

“What the hell-”

“There was one in your hair.” You blurt out, cheeks pinking even redder. Embarrassed, you avert your eyes from his face and look at your cherry blossom.

You stare at the cherry blossom in your hand as Bakugou stares at his.

I like you. Those words are all Bakugou thinks at that moment. The atmosphere is right, the scenery is fucking cinamatic, but he doesn’t and can’t have you now.

I like you. Those are the words that are repeating over and over again in your head as you stare at the pretty sakura. You like him, you really do, and you know this isn’t a crush because its been going on for months.

Later, he reminds himself.

Later, you fumble with the excuse.

But what if you leave each other behind?

“I like you so much.” The both of you murmur in sync, the words just tumbling out of both of your lips without hesitation or doubt.

What.

Your heads shoot up as you catch each other’s eyes, wild and shocked mirrored.

What.

“DID YOU JUST-”

“I KNOW WHAT I SAID.” You yell back, sakura flying out of your hands as you scramble to your feet. “DID YOU-?”

“THAT WAS MY QUESTION IDIOT!” He fires back, heaving himself of the ground.

“But I thought-I thought you didn’t want a partner now!” Bakugou backs up, confusion rapidly transforming into irritation. His voice grows decibles louder. “The whole 'We’re training to be Heroes’ speech? What was that about then?”

“I don’t!” You yell back, causing Bakugou to freeze. “But I like you!” You emphasise, hiding your face in your hands as your voice softens. “Is that so wrong?”

Bakugou’s vexation seems to dissolve with your words.

“No.” He isn’t yelling anymore. “It isn’t.”

“Can we,” You try, sniffling slightly as tears rim your vision. “I like you, but, but…dammit, why is there no word for this?” You curse frustratedly. Bakugou chuckles fondly, expression softening. Cute.

“We don’t have to date now, Sunshine. If that’s what you mean.” Bakugou says, understanding immediately what you were trying to say. “We can just…take it at our own fucking pace, alright? We’re…” He scowls, voice growing softer. “'in like’,” Bakugou mutters.

A stupid smile reaches his lips and he can’t stop it from growing wider when you laugh too.

“Yeah, sure. We can date. But not now.” You still for a moment, smiling at the blond. “Hey Bakugou,”

He rolls his eyes, opening his arms. “Come here, you,”

You race into his waiting arms and crash into his chest, tears of joy streaming down your face. “Katsuki…!” You sob, gripping him tighter.

“I know,” He hushes you, even though his heart is screaming with the most happiness he’s felt in his life at your voice saying his name, “best fucking birthday ever.”

“Katsuki?” You bury your head deeper, seeking warmth in the crook of his neck.

“Yeah?” He mutters back.

“I’m in like with you.”

A peal of laughter escapes his lips as the both of you laugh under the moonlight, with cherry blossoms strewn all around you.

He presses his lips towards your ear.

“I know.”

[thestarfishinjootsoffice]

Jason with a child reader who loves swimming,mud,anything to do with water and a mess💀Like he could be looking out a window and thinking"Oh it's about to rain.."

And the reader,as soon as they see rain start falling they shout and scream to go outside and play in the rain and jump in mud puddles

Or like-one day the reader goes to the docks with Jason and he's just watching the reader with the most intense stare,but-reader-reader just does this tiny little jump into the water and goes under the water and Jason absolutely FREAKS until they come back up and swim up to the dock and look at him with the biggest smile lmao

Insert jason having a mental heart attack because WATER=BAD/DEATH

Last post before I suffer the consequences of having to go to school and return at 3 pm.

So reckless!

Jason voorhees x child! reader (pla)

It's absolutely hell for Jason. I mean come on what do you think will happen when a person who's scared of water/drowning meets another who loves water.

Jason hated the rain for two reasons. One, it was like being drowned and two it reminds him of drowning, especially heavy rain. So he's aging a shit ton every time you run to it.

*scared about reader being in the rain noises*

*happy child reader in the rain noises*

Sometimes you scream while playing and it freaks him out every time,

——––——______——––——______——––——

Jason put on his jacket and prepared for hunting for today's feast. He sure as hell doesn't know how to cook but his mom's there... Spiritually. You wanted to go too which he didn't object to. Everything was sailing smoothly but then one droplet hit his head... And then another one and another until it was now full on raining on both of y'alls heads.

He freezed and rushed inside, thinking you followed him too until he looked back and was horrified at the sight of you running and jumping around in the rain. And then you shouted and that's when he bolted back to drag you inside the house. he looked all around you, expecting some kind of injury but there were none.

"I was having fun dad, why did you bring me inside!"

Then Jason didn't understand why you screamed, and considering his lack of verbal communication he wasn't able to get his answer and question.

And then you immediately ran to the rain again and when you screamed a second time Jason understood why. And then you had the audacity to jump in a muddy puddle and trip and make a mess out fo yourself, still laughing in the process. Oh boy this was about to be one hell of a day.

Though trying to catch you was a bit of a challenge, he couldn't completely disagree that he didn't have quite a bit of fun while out in the rain with you. But he wanted you inside immediately regardless.

——––——______——––——______——––——

Or that one time you almost scared him to death again when you jumped into the lake.

——––——______——––——______——––——

Despite his muted protests, he just couldn't directly say no to your face when you wanted to play around the docks. And he made sure to watch over you with the most intense look on his eyes ever.

He doesn't get why water was so fun for you. I mean he can name a million fun things you could do that doesn't involve water. He wonders how he ended up with such a chaotic child such as this. Not that he wants to switch though.

But he doesn't need to focus about that right now. What he needs to focus on is you and the dangerously small distance between you and the lake.

He was fighting the urge to run over and put you away from the docks whenever you crouched down to look at the water and for ONE second did he look away.

He looked away and heard the blood draining sound of a big splash and he whipped his head to where you were so fast and started rolling on the ground and continously shitting himself when he saw you fell into the water for a second then ran his ass to where you fell to pull you back up but froze and frantically looked for you with his eyes.

He was about to cry so hard until he saw your head pop out from under the water and swim up to him, he was in shock so he just stared at you getting out of the water and climb up the docks and smiled at him as if you didn't almost just die. (what he thinks)

He never wanted to bring you anywhere near that area again. Ever. He almost died a second time of a heart attack, he thought you fucking died and exploded.

——––——______——––——______——––——

It's an overall stressful job and life for Jason but aren't all parent's life. Yeah sure what you do is like dancing on thin ice but he wouldn't ever trade you for the world. He means it.

Omg this is so out of my writing style and idk and this was too short, but like I hope you liked it bro 😔💪

[animasolaoriginal]

I n n o c e n c e L o s t 🟪 4

Nebbia learns more about Ben, and also about the people around her, which doesn't bode well for the innocent girl...

lonely cowboy/outlaw ✖️ prostitute who's so much more than that

Chapter 1▫️2▫️3▫️4▫️5▫️6▫️7▫️8▫️9▫️10▫️11▫️12▫️13 ...

GENERAL TAGS: NSFW! Explicit! Size difference, age gap, slow burn romance. Cowboys, outlaws, prostitutes. Historical inaccuracy. Horses, guns, violence.

WORDS: 5.4k 🟪 READ ON AO3

Chapter 3 🟪 Chapter 5

Additional warning: there's sexual assault ⚠️ in this chapter, just a small scene, but I'll tag it nonetheless. Nothing too graphic, but the implication is there! Read at your own risk!

Chapter 4: The Truth

There are eleven people in this camp, Nebbia included, but there are more than a dozen horses, and she's only managed to take care of half of them before Ben beckons her into the shade near the tree line, close to where Thunder grazes, and presents her with food.

And only then does she notice that she's starving. She takes the steaming bowl with shaking fingers, not caring how dirty they are. Horses can be surprisingly dusty, and she can only imagine them running through sand storms or muddy terrain.

The mountain of a man sits on the ground, leaning against a log, his long legs stretched in front of him, one knee angled, his own bowl in one large hand while he pushes the soup's contents around with a spoon in the other. She settles next to him, bringing the stew to her nose and inhaling deeply. Vegetables, some sort of meat, a hearty broth, all so savory and delicious smelling, she feels her mouth watering just staring at it.

“So Ginny is the cook?” she asks with a side-glance. “And Milly the washer, the Stacys work in the supply tent, you are the horse guy,” she keeps listing. “Mitch runs the place and Steve... helps him? What do the three other men do?”

He watches her with an amused glint in his dark eyes. “They mostly sit around and drink,” he says with a deep chuckle. “They're more useful on... well, for other things, outside the camp.”

Nebbia stares at him, so many questions burning under her nails. But for now she focuses on the food, bringing the bowl to her lips and taking a cautious sip. Humming softly, she closes her eyes as the warm liquid runs down her throat.

“Also we do switch our chores, you know?” he adds while she enjoys her food. “I cook sometimes, or provide the meat. And I can stack boxes, too.”

She looks at him as she lowers the bowl and smirks at him. “Have you ever washed clothes over a washing board?” she teases lightly. “Or in the creek?”

“Milly never let me,” he replies with a wink. “And I do not want to mess with that woman!”

A laugh spills from her lips before she rolls her eyes. “Sure, Ben,” she says, holding his amused gaze. “You're afraid of a tiny little lady?”

“Those are the worst,” he chuckles, gently poking her with his elbow. “Right, short stuff?”

She shoots him a dark glare, but can't keep the smile down. It feels so easy to joke with him. “Oh, right you are, mister mountain! We're ankle-biters, after all!”

He nudges her again, giving her another wink before he goes back to eating his soup. She keeps looking at him as she does the same. They eat in comfortable silence, surrounded by the buzzing of insects, the neighing and snorting of the horses, and the bird song in the trees behind them. It's so peaceful, and she still wonders what the catch is.

How did she go from worrying about doing her job right and not dying doing it, to casually sitting on a meadow with this large man who is still technically a stranger to her – and despite it all, it feels right. Feels good. And she realizes she has missed being so... carefree. She hasn't been carefree since the day the Madam has told her she had to start serving men now.

Without training, without proper warning. That first night, with her first cock in her throat, she has wanted to die, to never do this again, because it had hurt so bad and was awful and dirty, and she has been so ashamed of it, disgusted by it. So much so she has scrubbed her tongue afterwards until it has bled.

And even though she has endured it, it never got easier, she always cared about it, about trying to make it better for herself, about doing a good job, about holding it together until the customer was gone. Then she would worry about the next one, and the next... An endless cycle of worries, and she only learned to hide her true feelings better, to pretend she didn't care.

But now she is here, worry-free, for now at least, sitting in the shade, eating a hearty meal, next to a nice man for once. And it all feels too good to be true...

“Penny for your thoughts?” Ben whispers beside her, leaning towards her. She flinches and almost drops the bowl.

“Uh, nothing,” she replies, giving him a weak smile, trying to focus on the stew in her hands.

“Really?” His voice is a low hum in the air.

She takes a deep breath. “What's the catch?” she then blurts out, putting the bowl to the ground next to her as she turns to him, eyes wide, eyebrows raised in worry.

“The catch?” he asks, deep lines on his forehead.

“This is all... well, it feels so different, so nice, so easy. And life isn't supposed to be that easy, is it?” She fidgets with the hitched-up part of her skirt, pulling her knees to her body and hiding them under the wide material.

“You sound awfully bitter for an eighteen-year-old,” he muses, scooting a little closer to her until she feels the warmth of his hip against hers. “But you're right, life isn't as easy as we sometimes wish it would be. But it's easier here, I promise. You're not alone, you're not forced to do things you don't want to do,” he adds, tilting his head to her as she cautiously turns hers towards him, meeting his gaze. His brown eyes are gentle, warm, inviting, she can't look away. “You can ask for help here. You can say no...”

She pulls her bottom lip between her teeth, contemplating his words, still fixated on him, and the elephant in the room. “What do you do, Ben? Outside the camp?” she then whispers, watching him frown slightly, before he looks away with a sigh, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Trying to make a living,” he then says quietly, his eyes wandering over the camp and the house in the distance, while hers wander over his body, the gun on his belt, the cowboy boots, the muscles in his exposed forearms. “With any means necessary,” he adds, causing a shiver to run down her spine.

She stares at him, torn between wanting to feel scared of the image that pops up in her head (Ben holding a gun to another man's head, his face hidden behind a bandana, his other hand closed around a sack of money or other loot) and wanting to justify his actions, wanting to see reason, to understand it. Making a living... by taking it from another? She remembers the supply tent, how well stocked it was, his room full of little boxes and trinkets, how much money he's spent on her last night.

“So, I was right?” she then whispers, licking her lips as she looks him over. “You are the type I would encounter on a Wanted poster?”

He looks at her, his face unreadable, eyes hard and slightly darker, his jaw clenched. Without saying anything, he tilts his body to the side and puts his hand into his back pocket, fishing out a folded piece of paper – that he hands to her.

She frowns, takes the paper and slowly unfolds it. The page is weathered, yellowish, crinkled. Its edges are sharp and rough as if it's been looked at a lot. And there it is, Ben's face, pencil drawn. He looks a little younger there, his hair a bit thicker, the beard less full, the shape of his jaw more defined. The eyes are the same, hard and deep, only with less lines around them.

There are words over and under it, but she can't read them, yet she assumes this is a Wanted poster, maybe it says Dead or Alive, listing his crimes in dark font she can't make out. She traces a finger over the picture of his face, trying to process what this means. He's an outlaw. A criminal. Wanted by the law. What did he do?

“I have another one,” he says quietly, watching her closely. “It's even older than that, about twenty years old.” She looks up at him, raising her eyebrows. Wordlessly he fingers another folded piece of paper out of the chest pocket of his shirt and holds it between his index and middle finger, asking her to take it. “It might surprise you...”

She doesn't know what to expect, but she takes it, unfolds it, looking between him and the even more yellowish paper, even more used than the other one that lies on her knees, Ben's drawn face looking up at her while the real one has his eyes fixed on her hands.

Inhaling deeply, she flattens the paper, more words on the top and the bottom, but this time there are two pictures on it. One of Ben, looking even younger, with just the shadow of a beard, nothing more than stubble, hollow cheeks and a straight nose, his face hard and his eyes even harder. And next to him, in the other picture, she sees...

Herself.

Her eyebrows furrow. It's a girl, with long wavy hair in a side braid (just like she has now), draped over one shoulder, a round face with a pointy chin and high cheekbones and a small nose, beautifully arched eyebrows and full lips, and eyes that pierce her soul. Even in the sepia tone of the aged paper and the fading black print, they are lighter, almost shimmering in the way they're drawn. Her eyes.

She looks up at Ben in slight surprise. “Is that...”

“Your mother,” he says softly, gently taking the paper from her shaking hands, now tracing his rough fingertip over the edges of the girl's face on it.

Nebbia doesn't know what to think. Seeing her mother on a Wanted poster does nothing to her. Somehow it fits the image she has of her, an outlaw would also abandon her child in a brothel, right? Something hot twists inside her stomach, something bitter at the edge of her throat.

“We were... a good team,” Ben continues with a smile, oblivious to her lack of reaction, as he stares at the drawn face in front of him. “They never got us, not for long anyways.”

“What did you do?” she whispers barely audible, leaning slightly closer to him as if the horses could listen in to their conversation. As if the camp surrounding them didn't already know what they were discussing. The camp of outlaws.

Ben looks up at her, quiet for a moment as his eyes wander over her face, the same face as on the paper in his large hands that he slowly, carefully, lovingly, folds up again without looking at it. “Taking from the rich. Sharing with the poor.”

He makes it sound so... poetic. “You've been robbers. Thieves,” she says, not even putting it as a question. “You're outlaws, wanted by the law...”

There's a twinkle in his brown eyes, before his lips tilt into a smirk. “Yes,” he replies quietly, holding her gaze. “Does that scare you?”

It should.

But then she thinks back to her initial thoughts about the man sitting next to her. Good guys, bad guys, does it even matter? In a world where a sheriff can treat her like the whore she's been, leaving her bloody and bruised, while an outlaw like Ben has treated her with so much respect she almost wishes he'd be a little rougher with her. Does it make sense? Probably not. Does it matter? Not really.

“No,” she says, as steady as she can manage. “You've not given me any reason to be scared.” Yet.

His smile is dazzling, his lips curl up over straight teeth, one very visible dimple on his bearded cheek, the lines around his eyes deepening. “And you don't have to worry about anything, sweetheart. No one's gonna harm you, me included.”

The corners of her mouth twitch, and she can't help it, she smiles back, her cheeks warming up, before she slowly lowers her eyes back to the poster on her knees, Ben's stoic face looking up at her. “What... what does it say?” she asks after a moment of silence, her finger tracing the letters she cannot understand.

He watches her, his smile fading. His hot breath hits her cheek as he exhales loudly while leaning over her, his arm draping around her shoulder before he takes her hand into his gently, guiding her finger to the top text. “This says WANTED,” he whispers, and she shivers as she feels the roughness of his beard against her cheek, while he moves her finger along the edges of the large letters. “That's my name,” he continues, showing her the line of letters beneath the title.

She holds her breath, the warmth of his touch making her feel dizzy. Her eyes wander from how his big hand holds her smaller one to his drawn picture. He moves their joined hands lower, to the lines below his face. “That's the reward.”

“How much is it?” she breathes, not daring to move much.

He huffs a laugh, his jaw moving against her cheek. He's so close, his touch gentle, his body leaned over her as he holds her hand, embracing her comfortably. “$1000.”

“Is that a lot?”

“Yes, quite the sum,” he replies, almost sounding proud. There's smaller lines of text below that, and he slowly drags her finger over each word as he lists them. “These are my... felonies,” he says quietly. “Stage coach robbery, train robbery, bank robbery, horse theft, trespassing, property destruction.” He pauses, her finger pressed to the last word. She can make out six letters.

She waits, breathing shallowly against him. “What's the last word?”

He inhales deeply, slowly letting go of her hand and leaning back, retrieving his arm. She watches him as he takes the paper from her, folds it back together, then slips it into his back pocket. Out of sight, out of mind. It still chills her to the bone when he stands up, looks down at her with dark eyes and replies: “Murder.”

A little gasp escapes her. Her eyes wander over his hands, those large hands, long fingers, with veins and tendons moving under tanned skin, the calloused feel of them, full of scars and scratches. And she hears the crack of a nose as he's slammed the same hand, a brutal fist, into the other man's face. Because he's called her a whore.

She doesn't know how she feels about it. He's a strong man, she's seen his muscles, felt his strength, witnessed his brutality, violence, but when she looks into his warm eyes, she cannot picture him murdering someone. Her mind still gives her possible images.

Bullets flying through the air in quiet hisses, wood splintering, meaty thuds when they hit their target, shouts, yells, cries of pain. Blood seeping into the dirt.

Her eyes move to the pistol peeking out of the holster on his hips.

The barrel of a gun pressed to someone's temple, a strong hand holding them in place. Whispered threats, wide eyes of the victim, and then a finger on the trigger, bending, pressing down. Muffled cries, the echo of a gunshot, then sudden silence. Blood everywhere.

She swallows hard and looks down, hugging her arms around her knees. A shadow looms over her, and she lets out a little shriek when Ben crouches down in front of her, his large hands on her knees, his eyes boring into hers.

“Don't be afraid of me,” he whispers, eyebrows furrowed. “And don't trust these words. There's always more to a story than a simple word...”

Tell me then, she thinks, her lips trembling, unable to get the thought out.

“I'll tell you another time,” he says softly, as if reading her mind, one hand moving up to cup her cheek, his thumb wiping over the corner of her mouth. She holds her breath, her heart thundering inside her chest. “Okay?” His question hangs in the air.

Are you okay with not asking any more questions for now?

She nods into his hand, and he smiles slightly, then leans up and presses his dry lips to her forehead before he straightens and holds out his hand to her. She looks up, confused, flustered, not sure how to act, but she grabs his hand and lets him pull her to her feet. He holds it for a moment longer, watching her closely.

“Alright,” he then says, letting go of her, rolling his shoulders. “Let's get back to work, hm?”

The sun is setting behind the house, tinting the whole camp in an orange hue. The horses have been fed and brushed, some of them have braids in their manes and tails now, and she looks back at the fifteen horses and recites their names in her head. She's always been good with names somehow.

On the other side of the meadow she sees Ben carrying a sack of feed towards the troughs. She gives the little chestnut girl named Foxie, who snorts and bows her head as she smiles at her, a last pet, a last praise (“Good girl, Foxie.”), and then makes her way to the tall man who dumps the sack with a low groan to the ground.

“Looking good,” he growls in his deep voice, rolling his shoulder as he takes a look around the meadow and the happy horses. “Not sure Bill will appreciate what you did to his Libby, though,” he adds with a smirk, and she looks back to the tall mouse gray mare whose black mane is decorated with little wild flowers and braids.

She huffs a little snicker, blushing slightly. “Might make his ride to the brothel more pleasant,” she says under her breath, and Ben looks at her and barks a loud laugh, his large hand coming up to pat her back playfully, causing her to stumble slightly.

“Good one,” he croaks out, shaking his head, his hand still resting on her back. “You're a feisty one, eh, Miss Nebbia?” he jokes with a wink.

Her cheeks burn up even more as she looks away, feeling the warmth of his touch through the thin fabric of her blouse.

“You'll fit right in here with us,” he says softly and leans slightly over her, his hand sliding down to her lower back.

She turns her head to him, giving him a timid smile. His brown eyes glow in the light of the setting sun, causing her to stare at them longer than is necessary. Appropriate. He nudges her side with his fingers and smirks at her, then lets go and walks past her.

“Come on now, I think you deserve a wash,” he tells her.

Her heart skips a beat as she thinks back to last night, sharing a bath with him. Even if it has been rather innocent, with both of them on either side of the tub and only the occasional touches (You had your foot on his cock, she remembers with a little gasp, is that considered innocent?), it hasn't left her mind, and the want is still there. The want for more.

Nebbia follows him back to the house, but instead of entering it, he takes a turn to the left and rounds the corner. She can see the sheets and clothes billowing in the soft evening breeze near the creek, a little behind the house, and Milly walking between them checking if they're dry already. What she hasn't noticed before is another area further to the left, fenced off with tarps, nestled between two large pines.

Ben stops in front of it, watching her closely. Once she approaches him, standing small before him, looking up with a curious furrow in her brows, he gives her a smirk and raises one corner of the tarp, showing her what's behind them. She frowns further. It's not what she has expected.

It is like somebody took a wooden barrel, sawed it in half and presented the new pieces as tiny bath tubs. She might fit into it if she squatted, but she couldn't see Ben fitting anywhere near those tubs, unless he'd use it as a foot bath. Her disappointment must have been visible on her face.

He laughs softly and leans closer. “Sorry, darling, looks like you gotta do that on your own this time.” Her head snaps to him, her lips parted. It's almost creepy how easily he can read her.

His large hand closes around her smaller one as he pulls her past the tarps, letting them fall behind them. The area is small, only the barrel tubs and a small fire-pit between them with a large pot full of water on it. It smells like soap and flowers.

“Looks like Milly has it all ready for you,” he says softly, testing the water with his pinky, raising his eyebrows in confirmation, nodding to himself. “Just get in the tub and use the ladle here,” he points to a large wooden ladle hanging from the pot, “to pour water over yourself to wash. Leave it in the tub when you're done. You think you can do that?” he asks with a teasing smirk.

She stares at him, then at the set-up around her, ignoring the tease in his voice. Her eyes wander to the second bath tub. “Will you... join me?” she whispers quietly, stupidly hopeful.

He scoffs a laugh, his hand on her shoulder. “No, this is for the ladies only. Us filthy men will wash in the creek. Milly's made that very clear.” She looks at him, smiling tightly, trying to hide the pout threatening to take over. He seems to notice the struggle and squeezes his fingers into her collarbone gently. “Have fun, sweetheart.”

With that he leaves her standing there, beside the steaming pot of water and the strange little bath tubs. The tarp flaps down again after he's gone. An unsteady breath escapes her. She feels strangely empty without him, alone, cold despite the fire burning beneath the pot. Somehow she's gotten used and accustomed to his large presence, and without it, she can barely breathe.

And it hasn't even been twenty-four hours.

She's spent the entire day with him, or in his close proximity, and last night has been... so intimate, even though nothing has happened (sexually), but he has been there, treating her right, being nice, giving her hope. And he took her with him, allowing her a chance, letting her sleep in his bed, inviting her to meet his people, fighting for her honor, giving her something to do, making her feel like part of something.

But she isn't part of anything if he's not here. It's a strange revelation, and she wonders how she's become so dependent on him, on anyone, when all her life she's been alone, despite being surrounded by so many people. The girls at the brothel haven't been friends, nor family, Madam Claire was not like a mother, more like a... mistress, not giving praise, but demands. Mary has been the only one who's looked out for her, at least a little over the last two years, checking in occasionally, and Nebbia realizes with a heavy heart that she may never see her again.

She wonders what she's doing right now, but then she knows what she's doing, or going to do this night. The same as every night.

It feels unreal to be away from there. Inhaling deeply, the warmth of soapy, flowery steam filling her lungs, she starts undressing, layer after layer, thinking about what she would be doing if she were back at the house.

Preparing for the night, making herself look presentable (knowing it wouldn't matter after the first client who will leave her covered in cum and saliva, her hair messed up from being gripped so hard, her rouge and lipstick smeared from being handled so roughly), and she'd wait, kneeling in front of the armchair by the fire, listening for those footsteps, waiting, waiting for the door to open, for the next customer to walk in.

And she can't even imagine how she would wait lying on the bed, waiting to be claimed, trying to fulfill her new role as a real lady of the night now that she's of age and ready, or expected to be ready. Luckily she may never find out what it will be like to have a random stranger take her however he wants, doing absolutely anything with her just because he's left some dollars in the greedy hands of Madam Claire.

She's been so lucky that the first man to barge through her door on the night of her initiation has been Ben.

Exhaling deeply, she feels a shiver rushing down her spine as she thinks of him, the mountain of a man, so much bigger, taller than her, the gentle giant, his large hands holding her safely, everything about him gives her peace, calms her down, except for the little throb between her legs and the rapid beat of her heart whenever he's close to her.

With her mind occupied with his brown eyes, his handsome face, the sound of his beard scraping over her skin, the strong twitch of the muscles in his arms, she steps into one of the wooden tubs, kneeling down in it, and starts pouring warm water over her stiff neck and shoulders, calming under the warmth and smell of it.

She doesn't notice the flap of the tarp being pushed back until it is too late.

⚠️ A large hand presses to her mouth, and she gasps against it, eyes wide as she stares up at the intruder. It is not Ben. Her heart beats so hard it hurts in her chest, panic gripping at every single nerve and muscle. She flails, struggles, writhes in the strong hold, tries to kick and get away, but the tall man (what's his name, one of those three?, she can't remember) grips her, lifting her up effortlessly, dragging her out of the tub.

Her feet scrape over the ground as she sinks her nails into his wrist, blinking rapidly, trying to see who the attacker is, she's usually so good with names, but she can't remember, can't think. Screaming into the hand on her mouth, she keeps kicking, until she gets kicked in the stomach. All air leaves her, all fight gone as she convulses in pain, stars dancing behind her eyelids.

She's thrown into the dirt, chin hitting the hard earth, causing her to groan, not immediately noticing that the hand is gone. A heavy boot presses between her shoulder blades, pushing her flat on her stomach, before a big hand grabs her wrists to hold them behind her back, the grip brutal, unyielding. She can't move, only kick her legs helplessly before she feels a knee pushing them apart.

Panicked wails escape her, and another hand grips her hair, twists it, almost rips it while the braid comes undone, presses her cheek into the ground, keeping her still, but only for a bit, as her attacker realizes he might need a hand to do what he wants to do. She's not stupid, she knows, she feels her hips being lifted, ass up, her knees pressed into the soil beneath her, hands held behind her back, a body pushing between her thighs, something hot and heavy slapping against her sex.

Whimpers, silent cries, hot tears streaming down her face. Not like this, she thinks. Please... not like this... “B-Ben...” she gasps, trying to think of him, imagining how he would take her for the first time. Definitely not like this, pushed into the dirt, held in an iron grip, exposed and helpless. A body to use, and nothing more. He'd treat her right... “Ben...”

“Shut up,” a low hiss comes to her ear, a rough voice, she has no idea who it belongs to, and then suddenly, a sharp pain on her butt cheek as a hand like a branding iron snaps against her soft flesh. She screams into the dirt, squirming helplessly. A grunt fills the steamy air, it's gotten darker around her, not just because she can barely breathe in her position, with the pain of the slap throbbing through her body, but the sun is gone. It's dark and hopeless. Something hard pokes at her entrance.

“Ben!” she cries out through a curtain of tears, with the last bit of strength, courage, she can muster. The person behind her pauses, curses, and suddenly she's being pushed further into the ground, dirt scraping over her bare breasts, then hurried, receding footsteps, the tarp flaps, cold air brushes over her raised ass.

She falls to her side, still in that awkward position, massaging her hurting wrists behind her back, breathless, unable to do anything else. /⚠️

And suddenly he's there, his large hands picking her up carefully, lifting her onto strong arms, pressing her to his warm chest. “What happened?” she hears his deep voice. “Who did this?”

She blinks, feels him scraping dirt off her cheek, wiping at her tears. Her arms wrap around his neck as she holds onto him. “I-I don't kn-know...” she stammers, shivers. He inhales deeply, a rumble through his chest.

He sets her down for a moment, on trembling legs, it's cold, but her skin burns. Wrapping a blanket around her, covering her up, he picks her up again, cradling her in his arms as he carries her out of the bathing area, towards the house. “Are you hurt?” he whispers, his voice strained, as if he's holding back his anger.

A fist in another man's face. She flinches at the memory.

“N-no,” she breathes, leaning against him, cocooned in the blanket, unable to touch him. “They left before –” they could soil my innocence, she thinks in both terror and relief.

Her eyes wander up to him. Even in the dark she can see the muscle moving beneath his skin as he clenches his jaw tightly. He brings her to his room, not saying anything, sets her down on his bed, covers her in even more blankets. She tries to free her hands, and when she manages to slip one out of her cocoon, she grabs his wrist, holding him back, looking up in desperation. “Don't leave,” she murmurs under her breath.

He stares at her, his face hard, like the one on his Wanted posters. Murder. The word echoes in her head, and she can see this man looming over her doing just that. But she isn't afraid of him, she's... glad. In a twisted sort of way. Knowing what he is capable of. The strength in his arms, his body.

But when he closes his long fingers around her hand and sits down on the edge of the bed, she's relieved he doesn't follow the urge to repeat the crime she has yet to learn more about.

Struggling out of her blankets, she breaks free and throws herself at him, wrapping her arms around his neck, presses into him, desperate to feel his warmth, his strong hands on her, comfort, ease, reprieve. He slowly curls his arms around her, one hand holding onto her waist, the other cups around her shoulder, as he embraces her tightly, leaving no room for sorrows.

A tiny voice in her mind complains already. Nothing happened. Stop whining about this. You're fine.

But she doesn't feel fine, because something did happen. She was attacked, inside the camp that was supposed to be her new home. In the rare moments where she was alone, without Ben. It hasn't even been twenty-four hours since she left the safety of the house to live in the real world...

A new wave of hot tears spills from her lashes, soaking into the collar of his shirt, her tiny sobs swallowed by how she presses her face into his neck. She feels him inhaling deeply, his grip on her tightening, trying to squeeze every bad thing out of her.

“Shh, it's okay,” he hums against her, his rough chin pressed to the top of her head. His voice and words sink into her cold skin, heating her up from within. “I've got you, baby girl.”

Chapter 3 🟪- Chapter 5

END NOTES: Oh the trauma (and all of it just so I could make Ben call her baby girl)!

I gotta say, I love me some dependency and hurt/comfort, even though I'm sorry for what I make happen to poor Nebbia. But it's needed to have these lovely bear hugs...

By the way, I was debating back and forth about the reward sum (again something that comes up once and doesn't matter but I still fixate on it every fucking time): When I played RDR2, all those bounties only ever gave $100 tops, and when looking at the Wanted posters of Dutch and Co. they had much larger sums, but they've been at it a long time, and ooh the stuff they did. But Ben? I didn't want him to be as cold-blooded as the people in the game, but still a criminal worth something, so in the end I settled on $1000. Might make sense, might not, does it matter? Not really. Just sharing my thought process here again, forgive me.

Anyway, back to the growing relationship between Ben and Nebbia. The plot is finally thickening and more things will happen! Stay tuned!

Thank you for reading! Next chapter on Friday!

AO3 -- MASTERLIST -- INSPIRATION POSTS

[real-fire-emblem-takes]

Not sure how hot a take this is and it's way longer than intended but I feel like Engage is what Fates wanted to be when it comes to telling it's story about family. Spoilers ahead for both.

Fates starts out interesting but the inclusion of the romance system where players interact with their sibling characters as siblings only to have to switch to a romance in S-support for the sake of ensuring a child unit exists is a shame when the rest of the game focuses so much on familial relationships for the royals. Even non-related opposing sex pairings suffer from the idea that the characters within them need to be able to s rank for better or worse and some supports shift very suddenly from casual to a proposal. I won't touch the incest side of things, but it's there and while the game tries to justify it within it's universe it only muddies the water further.

Engage hits you right off the bat by making family relationships clear and a big focus of the game's story. Alear spends the entire game learning about their family and their choices regarding who they consider their family, blood or not. Some of the villains are a found family, with a pretty touching moment near the end of the game where two of them directly discuss how important it is to them to have found each other. Allied royals are in sibling pairs, with each kingdom portraying a different type of relationship siblings may have. Characters with parents talk about them and sometimes have difficulty with describing how they feel about their family. It isn't all just about family, but a good lot of it is. Even the DLC focuses on siblings and their relationship to their father and legacy.

Alear does have a way to "marry" characters with the pact ring but the list is very limited with some characters supports remaining platonic - it does very little but give the player a cutscene.I think this is just a remnant of the earlier romance systems and works like Three Houses' ring giving does. It's even more skippable than Three Houses with one mention of it when you get it and then it is never discussed again unless you use it.

To be fair to Fates, the developers had to build three different games all at once and follow up Awakening's success. They probably felt like they had to include child units due to its popularity and I'm glad that Three Houses meant that they could see the series being successful without the generation system. I love all these games for what they are but Engage feels like Fates in the ways I liked it and I'm glad I can recommend it to non FE players without the caveat of the messy implementation of a romance feature.

.

[a-place-to-exist]

i think the main reason why i sometimes think i don’t have a dissociative disorder is that i don’t often experience dp/dr, at least not to a debilitating degree. i sometimes feel detached and weird, like i’m dreaming or floating or the world is weird, but like. that’s it and it usually goes away quickly or i don’t mind it that much.

however. i do feel like my consciousness is layered. something happened earlier this year, an actually slightly traumatizing event that made me have a sort of panic attack. and after i had finished crying and shaking about it, i could feel all the layers inside me awake and shaken up too, the exact way sand gets lifted up and muddy when you walk in a body of water. it felt like all the emotions burried inside me, although completely unrelated to the event, had been revived and i couldn’t stop crying without even really knowing why. it really felt like that event had shaken up the water and now it was all muddy and troubled and mixed up.

things from the past are sleeping inside me at all times. i watched this video by the CTAD clinic (my beloved) today about the layering of emotions in OSDDID and related so much. One event happening on the surface getting filtered down until the context is left out and only the threat is perceived so the negative emotions bounce back twice as hard because the dissociated parts get agitated and scared. i’m not sure how it works in non-dissociative people or non-traumatized people but i feel that so much.

in the end i feel like i have a dissociative disorder because i am so inconsistent. while being consistent. "i’m always like this but also i never am." "i feel normal but i’m not usually like this." "i made this choice but it made no sense." "the way i’m talking right now is so strange." "i don’t know why i did/didn’t do that." "it’s not like me to be like this but i can’t stop."

i thought i didn’t switch much but i am starting to think my presentation is very similar to osdd-1a with extremely subtle/unnoticeable switches. to be honest, i used to have more different alters but i am 50% sure my system has changed ever since i have found out about dissociative disorders. i used to actually have contact with alters but a few weeks after the system discovery the supposed gatekeeper fucking disappeared and ever since then it’s been so fucking hard to figure anything out or even notice anything. to the point i actually think/thought i was wrong about having a DD. which, maybe i am!

but anyway to come back to the topic i think when the gatekeeper disappeared they basically hid the whole system and made it even less noticeable because i remember them being Distressed™️ I’d found out. which, understandable, but also, hey we literally share the same brain maybe help me make this a nice place to live.

(dissociated while trying to finish writing this and now i disagree/want to argue with some parts of this post 🫠🫠 lmao… anyway)

(i don’t experience dp/dr a lot but i do experience zoning out/"no thought brain empty" a lot)

[pbandjesse]

I'm playfully saying this because I've decided that it's a good thing but I've been evicted from the block house. I have now moved to my own little private building that CJ will live in with me down by the stream called Peep's Mill. I don't even know that you were allowed to live in there so this is actually very exciting because I honestly prefer it. There were definitely pros to being in the block houses. Specifically I was very close to the arts and crafts building. But besides that I wasn't any other crazy pros besides air conditioning. And this building does have air conditioning still and it's far away from everyone else but closer to the office. I do have to go uphill to get to the office but that's okay. It will build my stamina.

I'm honestly even though I would have liked to have a day off today I have a really nice day. I got a lot accomplished I got a nap I got Chipotle. It was nice.

Last night James didn't end up getting home until almost 11:30 and by that time we were both so ridiculously tired. I had a headache from being dehydrated and exhausted. James was really upset because their train was so late they got home almost a full hour later than they were supposed to. And it was just nice to be together even though we were both going through it.

I would sleep pretty good though I had trouble closing my eyes because I just wanted to listen to something but I couldn't decide what I wanted to listen to. But then I slept good and was able to wake up a little before my alarm so I got just kind of doze for a bit. I specifically like that James was still in bed when I woke up. I don't always get to have that moment with them. So it was really good even though they were just so tired. And they did not want to be awake but they struggled to sleep in anyway.

They would get up and make the bed and make me a peanut butter and jelly sandwich to take with me for breakfast. And I would take my time but it didn't take me very long. I wasn't really in a rush to leave but I would get out of the house and have a nice drive into work and got to camp at 8:30.

I was a little stressed out because I had to set up programs down at frog hollow and I decided that I was going to ask for help and when you ask her help sometimes you have to be on other people's schedules and I know that but it was still kind of like oh I need nets and I need compost and can someone please bring me those things and they did and it was before the program started but I did have to wait. And that was fine I would spend time catching things. I really wanted to catch a frog for the kids but I was just not having any luck at broad hollow so I decided to take my critter catcher and walk over to the trout hatchery and then the Glen. This is where tragedy struck.

I was standing at the trout hatchery and the thing about that is this pond while it is stream fed still actively, it doesn't hold water very well so it is not full and we can't have fish in it anymore but is very muddy and so I walk to the edge of the water thinking that I would be okay but then I went a little bit too far to the left and I sunk immediately into the mud it was like quicksand. It went inside my boots and I was just full of water and mud and it was horrible. I was so upset. Thankfully I caught myself and didn't fully fall in the water but the two pictures that I'm posting are literally moments apart. Absolutely horrible.

I was mostly upset because it was my blunstones and they already were muddy from when me and my mom went to the highland games and I had never cleaned them and so I was like oh I'll clean them today But now I absolutely had to clean them so they would get rinsed out and are drying up at arts and crafts. I would wear my flip-flops for a little bit but then I remembered I had my rain boots so I would go get new socks and switch into those. And I was pretty comfortable overall. I wore my little cooling bandana thing again and that really makes a difference. I I'm actually considering getting a second one. It is just really good.

I would not catch a frog but I did get tadpoles and baby salamanders and frog eggs and a slug and a weevil and a beetle. So I at least have something to show them. And then I would set up a big bin of water that I caught more tadpoles in baby salamanders in so I was able to have lots of things to show them.

Heather would bring the compost from the barn and she picked me up too so that I wouldn't have to walk to the frog hollow which was very kind of her. I got a lot of steps in and I just needed to not walk for a moment. And Sarah brought the dip nets and I appreciated that greatly.

I had two groups, same as before. I have the younger kids first and the older in the afternoon. And it was a lot of fun. The first group was like we are going to catch a frog and they did. They also caught an older juvenile salamander and an adult salamander which I actually think might have been a newt but regardless they were doing so good. And while some of them were catching things and looking with their children I would also be helping make seed bombs. We had native flowers and mud and clay and the compost and I set up a little table so that they could squish it all together themselves. And some of them were better out of than others. Everybody needed a lot of help. But I was helping everybody so it was totally fine. And I was having a really good time just being outside and though it was hot I was able to ignore it for the most part. I was able to ignore it for the most part.

I would end up talking to their nurse and turns out she's a marathon runner and a Disney adult and she told me all about the marathons that she runs at Disney and it was just a really nice conversation we talked about camping and rails to trails and biking and it was just really cool. I had brought them up to stockade so they could play basketball and they wanted to look in all the black houses and I showed them where I had been sleeping and I said that I would probably be living there but I knew that it was still tentative even though I did not want that to be true. Mostly cuz I really just wanted to be an air conditioning. No other reason. So I would show them what the rooms look like and it was just a good time.

Eventually I walked back to frog hollow and got my backpack and Sarah's water bottle and delivered that and then I jumped in my car to go get lunch.

I'm really glad I did this because this ended up being my food for the rest of the day. I drove to Hunt Valley and got Chipotle and nachos and I ate some of it in the car and I would save the leftovers for later. I ended up eating those leftovers for dinner so I'm really glad I did that.

I got back to camp and I had about 20 minutes so I went and laid in the dark in my room in the air conditioning. This was absolutely the correct move. It brought my body temperature down I felt way more comfortable. I was very tired from being in the sun so this was nice but I absolutely knew I was going to sleep after this next program.

So I went and met them at frog hollow and when they got there they were great and I think they didn't excellent job. They didn't catch as many things but they were really fascinated by the things that we already had. I didn't realize though that the water was getting very warm and some of the baby salamanders were stunned and hopefully not dead. Unclear about that but I would get everyone back into the cool water ASAP. Once I realized. I had been on the other side of the pond so I wasn't monitoring that but hopefully once they made it back in the water they were okay.

Me and Sarah decided that we would hold on to the green frog that was caught in the first group to put in nature for Lindsay. And hopefully that is helpful to her. We usually catch a few native frogs for the summer and then release them. And we hadn't done that yet so hopefully she is cool with us doing without her being here.

After that program I would pretty quickly say goodbye to everyone. I packed up all the stuff and brought it arts and crafts and then went up to my room and I absolutely knocked out for 2 hours. I was so tired. And I was just asleep so quickly.

I woke up and I was pretty delirious. I had some text messages and some missed calls. I had told Heather I was sleeping though so it wasn't like anything she was asking me was time sensitive but I still felt bad. Ray had asked me about some material stuff but thankfully it was only like 15 minutes before that so I texted him back some ideas and then I ended up running over the art building to see what I had that could be better. And he liked my idea of using wood for our Tic-Tac-toe board pieces. So he's going to work on that but I gave him those materials. And then I was doing my tasks for two of our hands-on programs. Specifically I was working on dropping off some materials over at the end of Adirondacks and then over to the Hogan to see what materials had made over there and what it still needed. I was doing all of this for like an hour bopping between the art building and those two spots. And then I decided I would go to the office to work on some printable signs so that there would be a little bit more direction and instruction.

While I was over there the conversation came up about the drama of the block houses. And Alexi asked if I would be kind enough to leave the block houses. She really phrased it as how was you feel but I understood that I needed to be the adult in the situation and that if everybody's being a big baby about where they're going to live and I don't actually care beyond having air conditioning that I would be willing to check out Peep's Mill.

Cody live there last year and I texted CJ and she's like it was disgusting when he lived in there and it was moldy and It was grody. And I'm like let me check it out and I will report back if we can handle it.

Turned out it was locked so I went all the way back up and then they got the combination that came back down and it smelled musty but it wasn't as bad as I was expecting the way people were talking. And like Cody did live in it so it wasn't that bad. It needed to be cleaned. And I would spend the next hour or so sweeping and disinfecting and sweeping more. But I think it's going to be great. And I decided that why wait. Why spend another night in the block house when I could just move in today. And then I won't have to think about it tomorrow. And it will be ready for CJ and she won't have to be upset about how things got changed on us. And I know that it's going to be a little dramatic with everyone else still. But I think we are really coming out on top on this. I'm sitting outside of it right now on the water and it's just really beautiful and quiet. Nobody's bothering me. And while I still really hope that I can be connected to everyone else I think that this is a pretty good compromise in the end.

After I had the conversation with Alexi and went down to clean I went back up to get the gator and then drove to the block houses and packed up all my things. Shay asked me what I was up to and I said oh I was evicted so I'm moving. And I drove over here and it took me like three walking trips from the road. Mostly cuz I didn't think the gator could make it down the path. There's some wooden steps that I thought would be a problem. But I made it cute and I'm really happy about it. It's not perfect. Probably could use more deep cleaning but I think it's an ongoing project. And it's not any dirtier than any state park cabin. It's just had been sitting all winter. And sometimes critters move in but I'm going to monitor that and I sprayed nice spray smell stuff everywhere and I have the air conditioner and fans going. I'm really excited.

I went back to the office to heat up my Chipotle. And I'm glad I had it because I completely forgot about dinner. I had just been so focused on finishing my task. And I kind of struggled to eat it because I was a little nauseous but I ate the whole thing and I'm glad I did because eating is important when you're doing as much walking as I have been doing today.

I would also just sit and talk with alexian Heather and discussed some stuff and drama and things that are going on around camp. And eventually I went to go take a shower at the pool. And it was nice because nobody was there and I took a really nice shower and felt a lot better being clean. And by the time I got out the sun had started to set and it was cooling off. So I didn't get sweaty again. Though the little bugs were bothering me a lot. As I was walking I would get some flies in my face and when I was looking down I saw that there was a little green caterpillar in the road. So I picked him up and moved him to a plant so hopefully he will become a butterfly.

Now I am sitting outside peeps Mill listening to the frogs. Watching the fireflies. And whoa a little brown bat is flying around right now and he's swooping down and eating things off of the surface of the water that was so cool. I just stopped and watched that for a while. And the bat still going around. I've never seen that before. It still happening! That was so cool!

But now I'm going to go inside because the bat was a little bit too close. I'm going to go lay down and maybe watch a little movie and try to get some sleep. I hope that tomorrow when everybody's back we have a really good day and I can work on my projects and get a lot accomplished and hopefully feel really good. I hope you all have a great night tonight. Until next time. Have fun out there.

[arunspeaks]

How to manage coasting in your organization?

When a worker is just doing the bare minimum to get by, that person is coasting. They most likely aren't about to lose their jobs, but they also aren't attempting to advance their careers. However, it's crucial to understand that coasting isn't some kind of binary switch. There are various levels of severity.

All coasting isn't necessarily bad. Every day, a large number of people report to work, complete their tasks, and leave without attempting to advance. They might have a second job to get to or they might just want to get home to their family. Or perhaps they just don't care about careers. Furthermore, there are many good reasons not to want a promotion, let's face it.

On the other hand, there are those who go out of their way to appear busy, which is more severe. For whatever reason, they have given up and are content with going through the motions to get paid.

Typical indications of a coasting worker include:

only achieving their minimal goals.  

never assuming the lead.  

giving ineffective input during meetings.  

absence of interest in criticism.  

Time management issues.  

 pretending to be active.  

Having fun online rather than working (cyberloafing) 

Knowing how to deal with coasting employees can be challenging. However, you should always start with communication. Talking to the employee in question is always a good place to start if you've noticed any of these signs.

7 steps to manage employees who are coasting at work

Mentorship

Talking to someone can be incredibly helpful when one is at a loss for words. But when your job is the issue, it can be challenging to discuss it with a manager. A mentorship programme for employees can really help in this situation.

A mentor is a knowledgeable individual who can help an employee. They serve as a sounding board for frustrations, a source of guidance, and a dependable ally. This implies that they are a resource your employee can turn to if their job is causing them stress. And occasionally, all someone really needs is a sympathetic ear.

Crafting Jobs

Job crafting is essentially the offspring of employee autonomy and strengths-based management. By allowing employees to (within reason) specify what their job entails, it goes a step further.

Whether you want it to or not, job crafting continues. People go above and beyond what is required of them because doing so benefits someone else. Alternatively, they discover that performing certain tasks in a novel manner inspires them.

Employees who take more pride in their work and have a better outlook on life will benefit from job crafting. By helping one another, it can even strengthen social ties within your company. It is the ideal remedy for coasting at work because of these factors.

Talk it out.

Talking to the employee in question should always be the first step in managing coasting employees. To avoid muddying the waters, this needs to take place outside of normal performance conversations. Finding the warning signs is insufficient. You must approach this with understanding, which entails learning their perspective. Any ongoing problems should be known to you if you conduct regular employee check-ins. But even so, it never hurts to speak with someone in person briefly.

Recognize the efforts

Your employees may be coasting because they don't think their efforts or innovations will be appreciated. So being proactive is sometimes your best option. Be on the lookout for achievements to congratulate people on, such as outstanding sales results or a successful project conclusion. When you're trying to manage coasting employees, taking the time to express your gratitude in person can really make a difference.  However, not all acclaim has to be your fault. By allowing people to recognise each other's achievements, you can take your hand off the steering wheel, so to speak. According to SHRM, peer recognition can sometimes be more effective than manager recognition.

Hear their feedback

Your best line of defence against things like coasting may be frequent check-ins. You can be much more proactive about assisting a worker's professional development if you provide ongoing feedback. Sometimes the absence of that direction and feedback is what actually causes people to become disengaged.

However, it goes beyond the criticism you offer to them. They provide you with feedback, which is just as significant. Regular employee check-ins give staff members a voice and a communication channel. As a result, you have a much higher chance of noticing any issues. Even if you are caught off guard, checking in can help ensure that there is a conversation.

Manage them on their strengths

Employees often coast because the aspects of their job they despise take away from the aspects they excel at. Giving someone the tasks you know they can handle is sometimes the best way to manage them. 90% of strengths-managed groups saw increases in sales and profit, as well as in employee and customer engagement, according to prior Gallup research. They also noticed a decline in the number of safety incidents and employee turnover rates.

Clear your expectations and goals

You can practise delegation, the most important management skill, with the aid of effective goal-setting. Expectations and intentions ought to be understandable and transparent. Employees should be able to operate within defined boundaries. Your coasting employee will know what is expected of them if the goals are clear. And if they use the Weekly10 check-in to keep you updated, you and they will both be aware of their shortcomings. Naturally, when we embrace workplace autonomy, it encourages us to take things a step further. Which begs the question of whether you can trust your people to choose their own objectives.

[agarolifestyle2]

The Blessing of Vacuum Cleaners for Dog Owners

Living with furry companions brings immense joy and love, but it also entails its fair share of challenges, especially when it comes to maintaining a clean and hygienic living environment. Dogs, being active and playful, can often leave behind fur, dirt, and occasional messes that require constant cleaning. This is where vacuum cleaners prove to be an invaluable asset for households with dogs. In this article, we'll explore how a vacuum cleaner, particularly wet and dry vacuum cleaners, plays a significant role in keeping your home spotless and comfortable for both you and your canine companions.

A clean and tidy home is essential for a healthy and comfortable living environment, particularly when dogs are a part of the family. Shedding fur, dirt, and dander are natural aspects of having dogs, but they can also lead to various cleanliness-related challenges. Regular cleaning not only enhances the aesthetics of your home but also promotes a healthier indoor atmosphere by reducing allergens and preventing the spread of bacteria and germs.

Vacuum Cleaners for Dog Owners

Efficient Fur Removal: One of the most common challenges faced by dog owners is managing the constant shedding of fur. Vacuum cleaners designed for homes with pets come equipped with specialized attachments and filters that effectively capture pet hair. These tools work wonders in removing fur from carpets, furniture, and hard-to-reach corners, ensuring that your home remains hair-free.

Dirt and Debris Control: Dogs love to explore the outdoors, and they often bring back dirt and debris on their paws. This can result in muddy paw prints and dirt accumulation on floors and carpets. A powerful vacuum cleaner, especially a wet and dry one, can easily handle dirt and debris, leaving your floors clean and tidy.

Allergen Reduction: Pet dander is a common allergen that can trigger allergies and respiratory issues in sensitive individuals. Vacuum cleaners equipped with HEPA filters effectively trap and contain allergens, preventing them from being released back into the air. This feature is particularly beneficial for households with family members who have allergies.

Accidental Messes: Dogs can sometimes create messes indoors, whether it's knocking over a water bowl, spilling food, or leaving behind wet paw prints after a rain-soaked walk. A wet and dry vacuum cleaner is equipped to handle liquid spills as well as solid debris, making them versatile tools for tackling various types of messes.

Convenience and Time-Saving: Vacuuming can be a time-consuming task, but modern vacuum cleaners are designed to streamline the process. With features like automatic cord rewind, easy-to-empty dust canisters, and maneuverable designs, cleaning up after your pets becomes much less of a chore.

Wet and dry vacuum cleaners are a game-changer for households with dogs due to their dual functionality. They are equipped to handle both dry messes, like pet hair and dirt, as well as wet messes, such as spills and accidents. This makes them an ideal choice for comprehensive cleaning in homes with pets. The wet and dry capability means you don't need to switch between different cleaning tools, saving you time and effort.

When accidents happen, like a spilled water bowl or a muddy paw print, you can quickly switch to the wet mode and clean up the mess efficiently. This versatility makes wet and dry vacuum cleaners an essential tool for maintaining a hygienic home environment for both your dogs and your family. From shedding fur to occasional messes, living with dogs requires consistent cleaning efforts. Vacuum cleaners, especially wet and dry models, offer a practical solution for dog owners seeking to maintain a clean and inviting home. These versatile tools efficiently handle fur, dirt, allergens, and spills, making them a true blessing for households with furry companions. With the right vacuum cleaner for home, you can enjoy the company of your beloved dogs without compromising on cleanliness and hygiene.

[skyward-floored]

FAVORITE HEADCANON FOR EACH OF THE BOYS

Sorry I’ve been collected HC lately

YOU’VE PROBABLY HEARD ME SAY SOME OF THESE BEFORE but here you go anyways

Sky — he picks up everything to show Zelda when he finally gets home. Bird feathers, cool rocks... anything he can feasibly bring with him he does.

Four — he is STRONG. Like, if he and Twilight were the same age, he’d probably be close to him in strength. Dude is mostly muscle, all that blacksmithing pays off.

Time — he switches how he talks without even thinking sometimes. Like he’ll go from full-blown fancy great deku tree speak to “howdy” within the space of a few sentences, he doesn’t even realize he’s doing it

Twilight — his hair is like my one brother’s; it’s brown, but in certain light it’s got some reddish tints to it, and if he ever grew any facial hair it would be red

Legend — faints at the sight of blood. he can ignore it if it’s in the heat of battle, but afterwards he has to leave the patching up to someone else because he will feel faint and not admit it

Wind — he’s actually not a very strong swimmer, he can keep himself up and tread reasonably long, but compared to some of the other Links he’s pretty far down the list in ability

Hyrule — he has lots of freckles, but sometimes if you look at them juuuust right, they almost seem to shimmer a bit. Some of the Links notice this more readily than the others.

Wild — he can’t lay on his back when he’s swimming or in water of any kind, some latent memory of being in the shrine kicks in and he panics

Warriors — he seems like a bit of a neat freak sometimes, but he really isn’t. He just knows what it’s like to be messy and muddy and bloody for days or even weeks on end, and appreciates being able to stay clean when he can.

[doinsomethingdaily]

I feel like many people care about this but there is a lot of mis-information or one sided- information going around.

(Sources; I study environmental sciences. I have followed an course on marine litter and am currently doing my end research paper on microplastic pollution in surface water. I have used some papers for this, if you want them I can put them in the comments I think)

What I really want to put out there is that the problem is divers and that personal action and industry reform both are needed.

1. Plastic pollution is obviously a large problem. Think of the Atlantic garbage patch. But also in our own environment. More recently microplastics have been of growing concern. (there is even nanoplastics, but I am not going there)

2. When talking about plastic pollution there are many terms that are used to indicate different things.

- plastic pollution: all plastics currently in the environment that do not belong there

- marine plastic: plastic in seas and oceans

- microplastics: often classified as plastic particles under 5 mm, they are found in water, air, earth, Antarctic ice, human food and our bodies

- primary microplastics: plastic particles that enter the environment as particles under 5mm

- secondary microplastics: particles that come from larger plastics that are degraded.

With this wide variety of plastics to talk about sometimes the waters get muddies. I hear a lot of 'x is the main source of microplastics'. The simple truth is: we do not know what the main source is of most of these. But we do know what the biggest contributers are.

Plastic pollution: mostly land based sources of single use plastics. Recycling is still almost never viable or implemented. Research indicates that up to 80% of produced plastics each year ends up in the environment. That seems like a lot. ( This number probably counts landfills, which are also in the environment. stuf that goes to landfill does not magically disappear. )

Marine plastic: most marine plastic seems also to be from landbased sources. However, most of the plastic sinks. Yet, The great Pacific garbage patch is made up of almost 50% fishing gear (appearantly more buoyant?) Both of these are major problems.

Microplastics:

Primary: these come from tires, paint, washing clothes, cosmetics and other personal care products, but also the production pallets that are used to make bigger plastic products are a major source.

Secondary; these come from all the bigger plastic pollution (so land based litter for example) braking down in the environment. Currently the majority of marine microplastics seem to be secondary.

3. It is hard to measure the precise main source or sources of plastics because it is hard to monitor them. They move through the environment. The total amount of plastic amount to tons. Some sink to the sea bottoms or are currently somewhere in the atmosphere. Monitoring protocols for microplastics are still being established. So there is no absolute answer about most things right now.

4. What do we know: obviously humans are the source of plastics. Plastic need hundreds of years to break down. Most current research seems to indicate that microplastics will have negative health effects. You probably have plastic close to you right now.

Yes, we need to reform the industry large scale. Plastics should be used for the things where they are invaluable such as for medical applications and such. But we need to cut back on other uses of plastics. And we need good recycling. This one is going to be harder because of the many kinds of plastics and the limits on how many times it can be reused.

However, as an individual, you can help. I am certainly not saying everyone needs to go "zero waste." But even if you are switching out little things, you do have an impact. Further more, reducing plastics and microplastics might be healthier for you.

[bloodycassian]

darkness defined - 

az or cass x reader idk if this makes sense or not but here we go, either az or cas POV where reader (their mate) was stuck under the mountain with rhys and doesn’t come back bc she is still locked in the dungeons (rhys just assumed she died, he doesn’t know she is still alive)  Switch to readers POV, a few months later where they think their mate and their family (the night court) has abandoned them bc nobody ever came looking for her. Reader is like on the verge of death and uses her last energy to send a pulse down the bond. Switch back to az or cas POV  who are basically freaking out with guilt and anger and worried-ness. Im sorry it’s super long don’t feel pressured to write this anytime soon idk if it even makes sense  

DONT APOLOGIZE FOR BEING SPECIFIC! I LOVE WORKING WITH THIS KIND OF STUFF PLEASE DO MORE LOL

Cassian was a wreck. From the moment Rhys came home alone, and until the end of time it seemed to be. Azriel sighed, watching his brother down his second bottle of alcohol. His eyes were red, face gaunt and pale. The circles under those tortured eyes looked more like bruises. 

He hadn't talked to Rhys much since the news came that you were gone. Cassian had practically blown the roof off the house of wind, then disappeared for two weeks. The only reason Rhys had let him was because Az followed, far behind just to make sure he wasn't going to do anything drastic. 

Azriel watched his brother circle the mountain, only to have to turn away. Wards made by Helion himself refused entry to anyone while the mountain was still being evacuated of Fae. He glared daggers at the people streaming outside the shield. His heart was a painful stab in his chest constantly. His mate.. gone. He refused to believe it. And Azriel saw the denial there, plain as day. 

Azriel had only stopped him once. When he packed a bag and started his flight to Hybern. He earned a black eye and a verbal lashing for that, but it had saved Cassian from going on a suicide mission.

After a month of being out, he went to his brother. Rhys refused to ask Helion to lower the shields around the Mountain, and finally Cassian seemed to give up. He would have gone to Helion himself, but the wards around his court prevented him from doing so. Rhys was torn up over the entire experience of under the mountain, but losing you was one of the worst parts. He would never forgive himself for losing his brother's mate. 

Azriel watch his brother's eyes get more and more dull. Watched the bottles stack up. Rhys wasn't around much, busy regaining control over his city, getting updated. And keeping an eye on Spring Court.  Cassian sighed when the bitter liquid hit his tongue. He drank like it was salvation. Like it would lead him back to you. Plus, it helped him sleep. It was the only time he could sleep without seeing you, without feeling that pull - the command his instincts gave. "Find me, find me. I'm here. I love you. Please."  He often escaped to the cabin. To not have to talk to anyone, and to keep Rhys from stealing his bottles from him. Cassian was convinced Rhys was saving them to drink for himself. That's where he found himself flying, bottle of booze in hand. The guilt a lead weight in his stomach. 

The door shut, and he finished the first bottle in an hour. 

Mor appeared beside him, took the second bottle from his hand and had a long drink herself. He smiled drunkenly, showing too many teeth at her. He wasn't sure if she was actually glowing or if it was his eyes squinting too much. "Cheers." He slurred, taking the bottle back and downing more.

+ The walls were getting drier and drier with each passing day. The once cool winds that would cut through the stone dungeons were turning softer, warmer. It was a welcome relief, but without the muddy water from the walls...you knew you didn't have much left. Your spirit was crushed, on top of it. Death seemed like not a terrible option anymore.  Especially knowing that your court - your friends - your family had left you. They had just... forgotten. Thrown you aside like nothing. Didn't even try to find you. Like the Winter court skeleton in the cell beside you, just left to die.

  You pushed the thoughts back, knowing that logically that wasn't true. But you couldnt come up with a reason why they would leave you down here. You prayed, you tried sending thoughts down the bond. Nothing worked. Sometimes your mind got the better of you, and you would rush to the bars of your prison cell when you thought you heard faint footsteps. 

Then you would hear your own voice echo back, and no one else.  Eventually you stopped getting up. You let the fantasies keep you entertained while you lay on the floor. Not caring about the bugs that crawled on you. You were glad there wasn't a mirror to see yourself in. A wave of dizziness crashed over you, and you fell into darkness. 

When the water ran dry, you stopped bothering calling out for Cassian. The bond was there, but saturated. Trying to grasp it was like trying to hold wind. You were too exhausted. So you propped yourself up in a corner and let the dizziness pull you under again for a moment. Taking rattling breaths, you let your mind wander to that mind bridge. That once sturdy marble that would always remind you of Cassian. 

You sent out a final tug down that bond. Using the last of your energy, you put all your effort into it. "I'm here, I always will be. I love you. I'm sorry." The platform you imagined your bond being seemed to go dark, and lifeless. Empty.

+ Cassian shot upright, head spinning. Mor was asleep beside him, her feet on the table. He shook her, trying to shake the stupor. "Wake up. Wake up!" She groaned, weakly batting him away. He took a breath, trying to steady himself. He wobbled to the kitchen, dunked his head in the cold sink water and slapped himself a few times. The haziness from his stupor crawled away, slowly. 

Mor appeared in the archway, rubbing her eyes.

"Get Rhys. I need you to winnow us." He demanded, patting her face softly. Her eyebrows knit together but she stretched, and sleepily obliged.  + You assumed the crackling was just your starved imagination. Again. But the wind changed as well, and you tried not to let your hopes up. You weakly opened your eyes, to the same familiar cell. A silent tear slid down your cheek.  Then there were the shuffling of footsteps again, and you hid your face in your hands. It seemed like all the imagination tricks were attacking at once. You wanted it to stop. You wanted nothing more than to just fall asleep until you could see and hold Cassian again. Voices, now.

The sweet deep voice of a man who spoke another language. An ancient language. Your ears rang. You cracked your eyes again, to a blinding white light. You held a hand in front of your face, trying to see behind it. 

A thud, and scrape of metal. Then the scent hit you. It was similar to what you had imagined but somehow a million times better. Then, his arms were around you. "Mother above." He breathed. You would have thought the mother took you at last if it wasnt for the pain in your gut.

"We got you honey, I'm so sorry. Im-" He tried to hold back a sob. You smiled weakly at the familiar, yet different eyes that you loved. The marble platform you shared seemed to be lighting up with happiness. At the same time, crumbling and falling with shame. Anguish. 

Rhys began winnowing the group immediately, nodding to Helion. The high lord gave him a melancholy smile back, and winnowed himself in a flash of light. He would check the rest of the mountain with his forces and repair the wards before he returned to his home. 

Everyone surrounded the healer, watching her work. Mor was trying to stay calm, but her hands shook when she held Amrens. Rhys and Azriel both had jaws clenched, shoulders tense. Watching the way Cassian's tears fell on to your shoulder as he cradled you. The healer squeezed  his arm softly, silently requesting him to move. He didn't.

Azriel went to his brother, wrapping an arm around him. "Your mate needs you to be strong, Cas." He consoled, pulling him away gently. Cassian held you tighter, just for a second then nodded and let go. He held your hand firmly. His warmth missing from your body was a shock. You began shivering. Amren tugged a blanket off the guest couch nearby and placed it over your legs. 

"T-thanks." you muttered. Her eyes widened, but she nodded. Her and Rhys glanced to each other. A silent conversation. You didnt care. 

"Cas?" You squeezed his hand, and there he was. His pale face looked ragged. He seemed like he was struggling in every sort of way. You didnt want to imagine what he was looking at when he looked at your features. You could practically feel your cheeks sinking in, your bones losing their density. "I missed you." You smiled, trying to lift his mood. 

His lips quivered, and he nodded. He kissed the back of your hand. "You wouldnt believe how much I missed you. All of us did." he glanced to Rhys. His face was blank, but that steady stream of power seemed to be crackling outside. 

You let your eyes drift to each of your friends. Each of their tear stained faces were such a welcome relief. Over a month alone, their presence alone was enough to soothe that part of you that doubted their love. 

Cassian kissed your forehead, before the healer's light knocked you into a peaceful sleep. 

[yandere-sins]

Circumstances

I’ve worked on this for the last two days because I really wanted to get it out of the system! I wanted to showcase a bit better how it is to be the lovely Miya Twins Darling and I hope I was able to show it! Still heavily relies on the original idea of @shorkbrian  of how the two would be as a yandere! Hopefully I’ll get to write them even more because I love them so much ♥

Characters: Yandere!Atsumu Miya x Darling x Yandere Osamu Miya Rating/Warning: Mature, Yandere Words: 3791

»»———————— ♡ ————————««    

It wasn’t like you could speak about ‘relief’ as Osamu used his free arm to help you out of his brother’s clutches, but you were thankful nonetheless. You had been struggling for the better part of the night already, but only now your tiny trashes had woken the more reasonable twin up, making him come to your aid. You met his gaze for a second, whispering a quiet, “Toilet,” into his direction, to which he nodded understandingly. 

Usually, you had to wait it out until the morning, Atsumu’s grip just too tight on you. But some entity seemed to have been merciful on you, making Osamu wake up from your struggles and help you out. Clearly, he was still tired, barely awake himself. Even so, he pushed his brother off of you roughly, without any regard to Atsumu’s sleep, and allowed you to climb over him so you could use the adjoining bathroom. 

Not without a touch to your thigh, mind you. Subtle yet urging.

It was Osamu’s way of telling you to hurry up and get back into bed, while - and that’s what you presumed - showing some tenderness. Usually, he wouldn’t go out of his way to show his affection, but he was tired, it was early in the morning, and his mind was foggy. Hurrying you was just a side-effect of him not wanting to deal with a whiny Atsumu in case he woke up, and you were gone. 

Nights were always Atsumu’s. He’d be the one to keep you close, suffocate you against his chest, and never let go, even if you whined and struggled in his embrace. And he snored. Terribly. It wasn’t a loud snore, and not constantly, but every time you finally managed to drift off to sleep, he tore you out of it with a snort or loud buzz in your ear. Oftentimes, it helped to imagine how nice it would be if you could just stuff his mouth, but how would you, with your arms crushed in his hold?

Undoubtedly, sleeping next to Osamu was better. He just… slept. Yes, he was the ominous wall between the edge of the bed and you, someone who’d wake up if you dared to step over him, but at least he didn’t do anything to endanger your airways or bladder. The most he ever did was twirl a strand of hair between his fingers while Atsumu loudly told you a bedtime story. It wasn’t a touch you liked, but at least it wasn’t harmful or with underlying intentions. 

All of those thoughts aside, you were glad to finally feel the cold floor under your feet, making quiet steps towards the bathroom, knowing exactly where you had to step. You’d walked this way a million times already; after all, you had nothing better to do. More importantly, it was the path to your little oasis, your sanctuary - the only thing the twins hadn’t taken from you entirely with their presence.

Shutting the door behind you carefully, you made sure to turn the lock before switching the light on. Funny, how such a small, gloomy room, stuffed with a bathtub, toilet, and sink, could become the only place you were truly at peace. It was the only room you could lock yourself in and have some peace. In a way, it was all yours.

The boys had a separate bathroom available, one you rarely got to even see. It always depended on how ‘well’ you ‘behaved’ and how relaxed Osamu was. Yes, Osamu, since Atsumu would let you roam the house as much as you wanted if it was just for him to decide. But Osamu had different views on that. Mainly that the kitchen was so close to the other bathroom and bedroom in that small apartment, you’d be able to easily get hurt from his sharp, expensive knife-collection if you were to roam freely. 

There were, of course, also your countless tries of escaping which spread doubt in him.

Thus, only on good days were you allowed to savor the freedom of being able to explore, sleep in a different bed than the crowded queen-sized one you shared with the two, or even eat at a proper dinner table. Most of the time, however, you only had this bathroom to yourself, so you had to treasure every minute in it. Inside of here, they wouldn’t enter if you locked the door, Osamu holding back Atsumu from dominating even your toilet-runs with his presence. You’d not put it past him to watch you pee if he could, and that thought was one of the scariest of them all.

With your eyes slowly adjusting to the light, you turned around to face the mirror above the sink. Seeing yourself in that awful, almost muddy light, you had to get close to your reflection for you to see properly. The bags under your eyes indicated what you felt - tiredness and exhaustion, your cheeks still a little puffy from the afternoon cry. You turned the faucet on, letting the cold water run over your hands and dapping it onto your face. Not like you wanted to wake up, but you still wanted to savor the time you had in your little sanctuary. Refreshing yourself was the closest to self-care you had.

Finishing your actual bath business and flushing the toilet afterwards, you were almost unwilling to go back to bed. Sleep wasn’t something that awaited you there, and when you sideglanced the bathtub, you imagined having it more comfortable in it than next to the brothers. Your situation was still so surreal to you, despite it being months now. Months that had worn you down to the worst version of yourself. A version that was frustrated, angry, hopeless, and most importantly: Scared.

“[Name]!” someone called out as you reached for the doorknob, followed by a loud thud as something - or someone - walked against the door. It was impossible to not recognize Atsumu’s voice since it was like a constant noise ringing in your brain, but you kept quiet, hesitating. Dealing with Atsumu was downright exhausting, but you knew how fussy he became the longer he was away from you. As if you were the magnet that pulled him towards you, despite this never being your intention ever.

Even though you three went to the same school, even the same class, the twins had always been too extreme for your taste. Especially Atsumu, who became a volleyball star in his time there. You were surprised as they approached you after graduation, exchanging numbers with you and wanting to stay in contact. It was even weirder that they actually made an effort to stay connected, despite not being friends all these years you studied together. 

But even though it made no sense, you ended up in this weird situation with them. Something akin to a relationship, yet, you were sure that kidnapping, threatening, and hurting your significant other couldn’t possibly be counted as having a healthy love life. 

“Shut up.” A growl of a command followed Atsumu’s whine, as well as another thud and an irritated huff. You had no idea what was going on behind that door, but you were glad to avoid having to watch it with your own two eyes. The twins’ bickering was never a good sign for you, and you preferred staying out of their range when they did. Lowering the toilet lid, you sat down on the top, wringing your hands as you contemplated what to do. For now, your only options were to sit and listen to what was going on or get in between them and have them fight it out over you.

“They’re using the toilet. Stop bothering them, Dumbass.” Osamu’s voice was much closer now, and you assumed he had gotten up hearing his brother call out to you.

“They’re already done, didn’t ya hear the flush?!”

“No use hurrying them then, ‘Tsumu.” The more erratic twin let out a disgruntled moan, obviously tired yet restless by your disappearance. You could only speak of divine help that Osamu was actually up and using his appearance to keep Atsumu in check while he bothered you.

The next few words were nothing but whispers between them. Hushed tones and secret exchanges that you were not supposed to hear. Footsteps walked away, and you could only assume, but you wanted it to be Atsumu letting off to have his brother deal with you while he roamed the room aimlessly. Sometimes you wondered if your purpose was to fill something amiss in his life, making him so attached to you, as he always seemed to be on the search for something you didn’t know about. What followed were a few tender knocks on the door. Knocks done with hands that you anxiously remembered how they felt on your body. “[Name], are you done? We are worried.” 

Opening your mouth, you were almost inclined to answer, but if you did, a timer would be set in Osamu’s mind, reminding you to get out every minute from then on. But you didn’t actually want to leave yet. You didn’t want to go back into Atsumu’s clutches or play punchbag if the two got irritated over each other from the situation. Being silent wasn’t a good solution, but you bit your lip and turned open the faucet again, letting the sound of water wash away what you didn’t want to hear.

“They out?” Atsumu yawned from behind the door, still too loud to escape your hearing. “What do you think?” Osamu countered, snapping at his brother’s oblivious question.

“Told you. We should have removed that lock.”

“It’s a bathroom.”

“There’s nothing we haven’t seen, ‘Samu. It would be better”

Silence, as Osamu contemplated his words. You couldn’t help but feel cold sweat run down your spine as you listened to their conversation. Despite knowing Osamu probably would still reject the idea of taking out the lock, you couldn’t help but fear his silence on the matter. Fear that he might come to agree with Atsumu after all. It wouldn’t be the first time he actually did break the door into the bathroom after you hid in there too long for his taste.

Attention shifted, and as you got caught in your thoughts, inevitable, you jumped as a loud, thundering hammering resounded in the bathroom. “[Name] come out.” More hammering. “Out, now.”

This was your cue, the moment you should have complied. Save yourself from more terror and the yapping of the fox twins, but it was like you were frozen in place, unable to go. Even when you managed to pull yourself up on the sink, a short glance at your exposed neck made you fold into yourself again. As if it was of any use, you pulled up the hoodie you were wearing - Atsumu’s hoodie - tighter around your neck, covering the countless hickies and blemishes covering your skin. None of this was what you wanted, and none of them had a meaning to you; besides pain, that was. 

You just wanted to stay where you were, cowering between toilet and sink, covering your ears, as their knocks got louder and more demanding with every punch. Eyes darting to the doorknob, you watched it shake and turn as one of the twins tried to open it vehemently. Even if you trusted the door with your life, to keep you safe and sound, with every creak, you anticipated it to break again. The sounds got louder, their voices merged as they called out to you, demanded you, pleaded to be let in!

And suddenly, there was silence. 

Complete, utter silence. You hadn’t noticed how you had held your breath while the noise was going on, but now, you couldn’t help but let it escape timidly from your lungs through clenched teeth. The walls weren’t thick, but by how little you could hear now, you figured they had taken some steps away from the bathroom.

“‘Tsumu.”

“--away!”

A loud bang shook you to the core, but it was gone as fast as it had appeared. 

“Fuck.”

“--unhappy--”

“I--”

It was so incredibly hard to hear anything, and their pieces of sentences didn’t make any sense to you. One moment, they sounded farther away, then another they were close again as if they were chasing each other out of the room and getting back into it restlessly. 

You couldn’t tell the time that passed, but at some point, your exhaustion must have allowed you a few minutes of slipping out of conscience for a while. Perhaps for the following thirty minutes, you switched in and out of your non-existent dreams, ever so often woken up by a voice or noise that scared you awake. 

There was no dream to comfort you. No familiar person or scent that enveloped you, helping you through these troubles you were facing. How much longer would you have to endure these nights? How much longer would you be held like a glorified yet beloved pet between the brothers? You never knew them well, but every day, you felt like instead of understanding them better, it only got worse. 

Atsumu was so damn needy. He always wanted your attention and eyes on him, praise from your lips, and gentle touches of your fingers. If you were in his lap, you could count on him not letting you go anytime soon. That’s why the thought of you being unavailable to reach was almost punishment for him. He considered it the gravest of crimes when you refused to spend time with him, or when Osamu told him to stay away for a while, and you could barely endure his loud tantrums and how violent he was in his pursues of you. 

But Osamu wasn’t really better. Even if you pleaded and begged, he never admitted to understanding how you truly felt about your situation. Maybe he didn’t want to see, or perhaps, he really could not understand how grave their actions were. While he treated you reasonably well, he was just as quick to get upset as his brother over every little thing. When you didn’t like the clothes he wanted you to wear, he’d let you freeze for days before giving you something to put on - most of the time, the clothes you were so reluctant to put on before. He cooked, cleaned, and made sure the bills were paid, but not if you were misbehaving. Then, suddenly, he ‘didn’t want to’ do these things anymore. Leaving you to Atsumu’s mercy for your basic need. 

And they always - always - watched you. There was no moment you couldn’t look over your shoulder to see either or both of them stare at you. They had those moments that simply scared you, where they wouldn’t talk or react at all, lost in some weird observation of you. At most, you’d suddenly feel the tips of their hands run down your leg or back when you passed them, a quiet, “Pretty,” rolling off their lips. None of their behavior ever made sense to you, and it was driving you insane to not know what you really were to them.

Perhaps, it was just your exhaustion showing as you felt some tears roll down your eyes. You’d been up for a few minutes already, thinking about your family and friends who you missed dearly. If you could, you just wanted to get out and forget about all that happened with those two weirdos who invited you to their home one day and never let you go again.

Then again, at least it was calm now. In fact, it was peaceful quiet, and you pinched yourself as the thought of the twins settling down and going to bed crossed your mind. If that was the case, you considered yourself lucky, noticing that this would be the first time they simply gave up. They wouldn’t… would they?

Under the pain of your body being crouched in such an unsuitable position for so long, you pulled yourself into a stand, taking a short break by sitting on the toilet. The water in the sink was still running. Such a waste of resources, you admitted. Turning it off, you were surprised by the world still seeming calm around you. You had expected the brothers to blow up the moment they noticed you letting go of the comforting babbling, but nothing happened.

Even though you knew that the moment you stepped outside again, the world wouldn’t be as harmless as you imagined it to be right now, you felt a little better confronting this fact. Sure, you might get starved for a few days again or cuddled to death, but at least for now, the war seemed over.  

You weren’t aware that this was the calm before the storm.

The lock of the door clicked back as you opened it up, turning the knob slowly and carefully. If they really were sleeping, you were the last person who wanted to wake them. Turning off the light, you were cast in darkness, eyes clenched shut since you couldn’t see well. It was pleasant to hear the birds chirp outside the window, signaling that the morning was slowly but surely coming. But being able to listen to them at all was special to you, something you never usually noticed over the noise and your thoughts.

One hand lunched at your arm the moment you stepped out of the doorframe. Another one reached for your hair. In a matter of seconds, you felt yourself enveloped by a broad chest, pulled towards it by a third arm fastening around your waist. Ironically, the first thought you had in mind was about a monster reaching for you, planning on tearing you apart. 

It didn’t cross you that it was the two brothers closing in on you. Lips startled you as they fell on top of yours, wet and thoughtless, a tongue pressing through and into your mouth as a hand slipped into the gap between the chest and your neck, forcing you to stretch and comply. Hot breath against your face, paired with soft whines, as if you had left a puppy alone for too long and it was welcoming you home, vibrated against your lips, while the confusion didn’t help you understand the situation. Forming a helpful thought was impossible for you, too surprised and taken aback by the sudden attack. 

But at the same time, you felt another nose press against the back of your head, taking a deep breath. It was impossible to determine who’s hand belonged to who, but it didn’t matter as they always acted like the perfect team when the situation required it. Your hair was pulled back while another chest rubbed in close from behind, sandwiching you between the bodies. 

Choking on the mixture of spit in your mouth, you coughed as the kiss finally stopped, one of them mewling, “We missed you so much!” before his lips crashed back onto yours. Their hands became grabbier and rougher to your body, nails scratching along the sensitive parts of your neck, and fingerprints being left around your sides as cold hands got shoved beneath your hoodie. 

You wanted to lift your hand, push at least one of them away, but before you could, one hand unstuck from touching you and instead tugged your arm down right away. This was a clear Osamu-move, and as if in response, you heard it growl from behind you while his face buried into your shoulder. “Don’t ever stay so long in the bathroom again, understood?”

“Yes, never!” Atsumu yapped right after, forcing a few more long, breathtaking kissed from your mouth. Lips wandering, he scattered them all over your face, slobby and urgent, as if he was soaking in your life essence through his kiss. It slowly but surely became more clear who’s arm was who’s, as the one around your waist shifted to under your butt, muscles tensing before suddenly, you were relieved of the ones on your neck and arm. Atsumu lifted you from the ground while you tried to stand on your tiptoes as long as you could, not wanting to give yourself to him just like. Iat.

“I’m so tired~” Atsumu complained loudly, whining. “We stood in front of this door forever, [Name]!”

Osamu merely sighed behind you as you were brought back to bed. He let you fall ungently onto the mattress and onto his limbs, but when you tried to adjust, you were merely pulled closer towards him again, leaving you uncomfortable in his hold. He didn’t bother with pulling up a blanket to keep you warm, and goosebumps quickly spread all over your body from how icy the bed was. It made you instinctively shuffle closer to the warm body next to you, and you felt stupidly excited when the second body linked itself with yours shortly after. 

“‘Samu, get your shitty leg off of me!” Atsumu’s voice was too loud for your poor ear that he screamed it into, but you only felt Osamu’s leg pushing down tighter on yours, restricting where you could go even though it hurt to have his bones crush yours under his. “Shut up, Stupid. It’s cold, I want in on the warmth.”

How uncharacteristic, you thought. Then again, what did you really know about them? Either Osamu was too tired to deal with finding the lost blanket too, or it was actually him wanting to make you as helpless as a piece of meat in between their burger bun-bodies. “It’s not like you could separate us,” he teased his brother, and Atsumu let out an annoyed groan before his demeanor changed rapidly, calming down with his head falling on top of yours with a huff, nuzzling his face into your hair. 

“He’s right, though,” he mumbled, and you weren’t sure if Osamu heard that. If he did, he enjoyed it quietly, feeling good about his brother admitting it without letting you know. “Nothing can separate us.”

“No door and no brother,” Osamu finished his sentence. Apparently, he did listen. 

“Exactly,” Atsumu chuckled, arms tightening around you. 

Now, you were back at the beginning, perhaps feeling more miserable than before as Osamu joined in with keeping you locked between them. Soon, the morning sun would rise again. Another morning you would only be able to see through the gaps in the boards covering the windows. 

Again you’d wake up in this horror scenario that you never wished for. Where had you gone wrong in your life to deserve this? What had you ever done to them? Why did they do the things they were doing to someone they didn’t actually know either?

And most importantly: When would it stop?