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purplesurveys · 6 months ago

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How would you describe your journey so far in your 20s? I'd say more than anything it's been a quiet journey of me trying to make the most of what I'm handed, and it's been a mixed bag of clumsy moments, feelings of loss, and times where I feel on top of the world. I lost a great chunk of my 20s from the pandemic, so I think I'll always resent all the missed opportunities that were taken from me – like traveling or partying and even the feeling of Actually Working In An Office.

By the time Covid took a backseat my friends and I were already in our mid-20s and didn't feel like doing youth-y stuff anymore. But like I said, I hate seeing situations as helpless so I've done all I could to pivot and still enjoy what life has to offer. I reconnect with friends as often as I can, go out even if it means eating or going to a museum alone, go to as many concerts as I can, take my family to ALL of the expensive restaurants that we could only stare at before...things like that. I have a very strong need to feel ~alive after what the world had been through.

What role does music play in your life, and are there any songs or artists that have had a significant impact on you? It now has less impact from, say, when I was in high school where music served as my personal megaphone and made me feel practically invincible. Now, I listen to music mostly for enjoyment; I vibe more with beats and instrumentals versus lyrics.

Paramore continues to be the most influential for me because they always seem to know what's going on in my head and what I need to hear or know. BTS will also always have a major impact on me simply by virtue of saving me from death.

Are there any specific goals or aspirations you have for your future? How do you plan to work towards them? My biggest goal in life, and has been since I was 9, is to be able to attend Wrestlemania 50. That's really it; I don't wish for much other than that + not to get sick + for my loved ones not to get sick. I know that shit will cost millions – from visa applications to the flight tickets to the cost of things in the US – so I save as much as I can.

Another is to be able to travel outside Asia, if possible taking my parents with me so they can see the world too. Again, it's a matter of money so it's the same goal of earning and saving as much as possible to make it happen.

How do you prioritize self-care and maintain your mental well-being in your daily life? Paying more attention to work-life balance. I did the dirty work in the last 3 years when I was working myself up the ranks. Now that I've pretty much reached my work goals (for now), I'm granting myself the self-compassion to take it easy and slowly.

What are some activities or hobbies that bring you joy and help you relax? I have a rhythm game that I regularly play to decompress. I also keep up with pro wrestling, as I think it's great to have that one niche interest that you can always come back to; of course there's BTS which is my constant source of comfort and happiness...I write when I need an outlet, as shitty and clumsy as my poems are...and I have my dogs with whom I play and baby and cuddle for hours each day.

Have you ever faced any challenges related to mental health? How do you cope with them? I used to be severely depressed. I didn't have ways to cope with it and I also didn't go to therapy because I was always shy (and it's very! expensive!), which certainly didn't help with my trying to get out of that hole. I was self-destructive for a very long time.

Everything got better when I discovered BTS and found a family in them. As cheesy as it sounds, I learned how to laugh and smile again (and mean it) because of them. They made me want to be better for myself and they made me want to help myself.

How do you define love and what does it mean to you personally? Promising to do your best by a person, at least to me. I know I love someone when I want to be better because of them while simultaneously doing my best, in the choices that I make, to make them feel happy and safe.

What qualities do you look for in a partner or potential significant other? I gave up on love in this respect because I've experienced the ugliest a relationship could possibly get that I've walked away from it for good. That said, I don't think any trait, as perfect and as desirable as it makes someone seem, could redeem romantic relationships for me anymore.

How do you navigate dating in the modern world, especially with the influence of technology and social media? I don't. And I've been the happiest avoiding it.

What are your thoughts on marriage and starting a family? Is it something you envision for yourself? It used to be. It has zero appeal to me now.

How do you maintain a healthy work-life balance and prevent burnout? I clock out at exactly 6 PM now. Latest at 6:30 PM, and I only make overtime exceptions if it *absolutely* cannot be helped. I have also learned how to delegate, which was my illness before as I used to hoard and hoard and hoard tasks – both because I wanted to prove myself to my superiors and because I felt guilty about passing tasks to my teammates thinking they'd think of me as bossy.

Are there any specific skills or areas of knowledge you would like to develop or improve upon? I wish I was a naturally good and a natural born leader. I'm a follower and a listener through and through, so it's a struggle now that my work description pretty much mandates me to lead an entire team. Couple that with my anxiety and paranoia that makes me fixate on the thought of my teammates preferring Bea (who left) over me and think I'm incompetent, and it all makes for a shitty equation.

Still, I try to do the best I can and lead to the best of my abilities because if I keep up that ^ toxic mindset it will become more and more true – so I might as well do my damn best and learn from the journey, mistakes and all.

How do you handle setbacks or failures and use them as opportunities for growth? I'm very analytical about it, which I guess is a major side effect from the work I do (which is very learnings-obsessed). I take a look at the areas I failed in, think back on things I said that I could've said better, things like that...and actively make a change the next time I need to do them to see if the impact would be better that time around.

How do you stay connected with your friends and loved ones despite the demands of adult life? Well that's part of the magic of the world going online. Everyone's just a chat away; and even if I don't actively/routinely talk to someone I can always keep up with their lives through stories and posts.

Are there any specific travel destinations or experiences you hope to explore in the future? Since I was around 12-13 I've made it a goal to travel to Chicago one day. Some of my favorite shows and films are set there + Chicagoans seem to be THE most passionate people about their own hometown.

I wish it were also easier to travel around India, but as a woman I doubt that will ever happen in my lifetime. I'd love to visit as I'm very interested in their culture and I would like to try authentic street food.

Places in South Korea outside of Seoul – Busan, Daegu, all the countryside places they feature on 2 Days 1 Night that have their own traditions, festivals, cuisines...South Korean culture is very colorful and it'd be great to experience them all; but the language barrier becomes a bigger issue the farther you get from the city. I'm also very well aware of the racist sentiments towards Filipinos and the fact that Koreans shoo away foreigners when they feel like it (even within Seoul!), so that makes me wary about visiting non-Seoul places much as I would love to experience their culture.

How do you navigate and make decisions about your career path and professional growth? I treat every day like it's my first day on the job and completely clueless – it helps with forming a mindset to consistently want to become better. I credit that thinking to my quick improvements and why my promotions have been as quick as they became.

What are some of your favorite ways to give back to your community or contribute to causes you care about? My main advocacy is supporting animal shelters and adoption of stray animals, which involves money – and a lot of it. That said I donate 1-2 times a week to various NGOs/shelters; and I share calls for adoption whenever I come across them on social media.

There's one shelter in particular that has a subscription feature of like ₱180 a month, where the money goes to maintenance, treatments, rescues, and food – afaik I've been subscribed ever since they introduced that feature. I wish they could open up higher tiers because I am definitely willing to pay more, but since it's not available I just continue sending them money for their individual rescues.

How do you envision your life in the next five years, and what steps are you taking to make that vision a reality? In five years I think having my own place would be a lot more feasible so I hope I have been able to achieve that by then! My benchmark is Bea who was able to have her own condo at 29, so that's what I'm working towards haha. I can't believe at high school I thought having my own place at like 22 would be easy...so naive.

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mrmisery0 · 1 year ago

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26/7/23

I haven’t started Maurice yet but I’ve been reading something else! I’m reading Giovanni’s Room by James Baldwin, it’s pretty good. There’s a lot of problematic stuff but I suppose it’s a product of it’s time. The transphobia was a little shocking, the way the narrator spoke about some trans women in a scene was really appalling. If I ignore that stuff it’s quite a nice read. It’s sad but I like books that way. It’s making me miss the beach.

Last Friday it was two of my friends combined birthday party. I’m always nervous before I go to parties and I always end up having a better time than I expect.

I did what I always do at parties and I drank until I felt like I could talk to people, but when I was doing that it was good. It was so nice to speak to everyone. It feels like the people I see at these parties are becoming more my friends instead of just my girlfriends. I think my insecurity also has a play in that though.

There were some bands playing at the party too! Pretty much everyone I know are musicians so it’s not uncommon for them to play at parties. At some point everything was set up and they bands hadn’t started yet, Nel who I used to be in a band with was there and I don’t remember how exactly but I asked if we could play something. Maybe it was the drunk ness? We got two other friends, one for guitar and one to sing, to come up to the stage area and we started playing together. It was one of the nicest things I’ve done in ages.

I love bass. I love performing and playing with other people. I haven’t been in a band for over a year and a half and I forgot how much it meant to me. I try so hard to keep up with my bass hobby but it’s not rewarding for me if I only ever play for myself. Playing at the party reminded me how performing makes me feel. It’s so satisfying! I was so drunk I played until a chunk of skin came off my finger and I didn’t even notice. I didn’t know exactly what I was playing, we were mostly jamming but it was so good.

Since then I’ve been practicing more and I’m going to really really put an effort into meeting more people to play with so I don’t forget that feeling again.

On Monday I went and applied to a job in person for the first time ever. I was terrified! I saw that one of the bookstores was hiring and it got very stuck in my head. I woke up the next morning too early and couldn’t get back to sleep because I was thinking about the job. I worked on my resume and my cover letter that morning and handed them in that afternoon. I was so nervous about it that I was shaking the whole time though, I was very embarrassed. I don’t think I’ll get it. But it’s good that I was able to try.

My one year on t was less upsetting for me than I thought it would be. D and I went down to a cafe near my house and got a drink and a disappointing caramel slice then went on a really good walk and had a good chat.

I have too many expectations for myself. It’s something I know very well. But it’s different when it’s with my t. It’s so fundamental. Its my self, it’s what people see. It’s not something I can get better at the same as I can get better at being confident or healthier, it’s something that I get so little say in and just have to live with. I’m very experienced in hating myself.

I finally booked an intake appointment at head to health though, hopefully they’ll see me and it will be good. I’ve been meaning to do that for months. I’ve gotten pretty good at phone calls but this one made me very anxious and I just kept procrastinating it. It’ll be good to be in therapy again. I still haven’t been able to talk to a therapist about what happened. It’s also important to me that I learn some better coping skills so that I can make sure my relationship with D is healthy and good.

I’ve booked a ticket to go to this music careers event thing at one of the venues I go to on Sunday. I’m not exactly sure how it’ll go but I think it would be a good opportunity for me.

I’ve been thinking that maybe the reason I feel that I have so little friends is because I am so afraid to call someone my friend. Do my partners friends consider me friends? Would they be upset to know that I am unsure if I can consider them my own? At what point do you become friends with someone? How the hell do you even make friends? My girlfriend tells me I just need to talk to people and be as honest as possible but I am so scared of that. Maybe the therapy will help.

Finding friends after school feels impossible. It would be easier if I had a job I’m sure but I don’t. And I don’t have any places I go other than the youth centre and I don’t think I will be hanging out with 15 year olds. When I go to gigs I like to imagine that I will attract some people who will just adopt me into their lives and I will have friends and feel connected and comfortable, but I will be waiting for that forever if I don’t actually just go and speak to someone.

Being an adult is strange in that I feel the most comfortable and secure that I ever have and yet I feel anxious like I am a kid again. Im so scared to even try. I know that I will never be able to have connections if I’m too afraid to say hello to people but I have no idea where to begin in fixing that. I’m only 18 and I’ll be 19 in nearly 2 months so really I am just a child with I.D. but I feel that everyone around me has it so much more together than I do. I guess that’s how it is?

When I think about ways that I can make friends I think of the stupidest things. I keep thinking I’ll just get a new style, maybe I’ll be more alternative again and bring people to me. I don’t chase I attract lol I wish. I need to learn how to speak to people. Hi my name is… that sort of thing. I’m so scared that if I try to make friends they will judge me and bully me as if we were children. Autism is one hell of a thing.

#july 23

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thatonebirdwrites · 11 months ago

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They are wearing shoes on a sofa. :0 Noooo. Wait, is Lena wearing hiking boots? Hmmmm. _________

Lena pulled up the photo on her phone and tipped it toward Kara. She grinned, proud of herself. "Made it to the peak."

"Woah!" Kara peered at the photo of Lena standing amongst boulders, one arm extended to take the picture, while the other was held out as if to show off the spectacular view behind her. The valley sloped down from the rocky alpine, the spongy taiga, and finally to the treeline where the pines reached up toward the heavens. "That's gorgeous. Take me next time!"

Lena laughed. "You're the one that got called for an emergency. Besides, I wanted to prove to myself I could do this. Without help."

"And you did!" Kara leaned forward and kissed her lightly on the lips. "Progress, right?"

Lena lowered her phone and smiled at Kara. Progress indeed. Since her Collapse two months prior, she'd been working hard to repair her terrible working and drinking habits, to be better about self-care, but most of all to learn healthier coping. Which meant therapy for one but also new, healthier habits.

She thought back to month and a week ago, when she'd left the tower after a therapy session with Kelly.

<<< . >>>

"Hey! How'd it go?" Kara jumped to her feet from where she'd been sitting on the floor by the door with a bag of chips.

Lena raised an eyebrow. "Were you seriously sitting here the whole time?"

Kara blushed. "Well, not the whole hour. But most of it. Just wanted to show my support. This is a big step for you."

Silly but also so, so sweet. "Thank you." She stepped into Kara's space and kissed her on the cheek. "And it did go well." She tangled her fingers with Kara's and the pair fell into step together, heading down the hallway toward the stairs. "Kelly challenged me to think of a new hobby. One to get me out of the home."

Truthfully, the idea had Lena terrified. Since her Collapse, she'd been highly reluctant to go out in public. It had led to quite a few rumors, some nasty, but others just weird. Nia had helped her squash them with an interview, but she'd danced around the topic of why she hadn't been seen at her company for over a month.

"Oh? What did you decide?" Kara crunched on a chip and held out the bag for Lena. She shook her head. Eating after therapy was near impossible for her, her stomach twisted into knots still. Another thing she was trying to work on -- eating better and at more consistent times.

"Mountain climbing."

Kara slid to a stop, startled. "Wait, I thought you didn't like hiking."

Lena chuckled. "No, it's not that I don't like it. It's the bugs I hate. Mountain climbing gets me above them, and it'll help with the exercise routine. Besides, I'm less likely to encounter people."

Kara grinned. "Can I come too? I love hiking and climbing!"

"As long as you don't cheat," Lena said sternly, while waving a finger at Kara. "We hike and climb. No flying."

Kara pouted. "But that's part of the fun." When Lena leveled a faux glare at her, Kara relented. "Fine. No flying."

"Great." Lena leaned forward and kissed Kara on the nose.

<<< . >>>

The first attempt failed.

Lena stood in front of the door, one hand on the door knob, but her limb refused to work. She felt frozen, and her heart beat faster and faster, her head swimming with dizziness.

Move, she thought desperately. Her vision began to grey in her periphery.

Kara's hands extracted her hand from the knob and clenched her fingers in a tight but warm grip. "Hey, hey, breath with me, Lena. Breathe in," she took a deep breath and Lena struggled to do the same, "and out." Kara breathed out slowly.

Lena clung to Kara's words until her heartbeat began to calm, her breaths no longer staccato gasps. The dizziness faded, her stomach no longer twisted in on itself, and the greyness in her vision abated.

"God, this is so embarrassing." She scuffed her hiking boot against the carpet, her arms crossed over her chest.

Kara rubbed her thumbs over the back of Lena's hands. "It's okay. It's okay to be anxious. Let's just take it a take it a step at a time. It's okay if all you can do is open the door today. Next time, we'll get to the car. And then the next time after that, we'll make it to the trailhead."

Lena huffed. "How is that not pathetic? I used to be able to just go to galas dressed to the nine, chat with heads of state, and now I can barely make it out the door!"

Gently, Kara kissed her forehead. "Lena, recovering takes time. It's only been three weeks since..." As always, Kara refused to actually name The Event, Kara's preferred name for it.

Lena had dubbed it her Collapse. It was better than admitting what it actually had been: her engaging in near-fatal self destructiveness. No, that introspection was only for therapy.

Right now, she faced a door. Her biggest nemesis yet since her Collapse. Even bigger than when she'd left the Tower's medical ward and returned home. She'd cheated on that since Kara had flown her. Better than passing out the moment she exited the Tower and faced the streets of National City again.

"I'm going to do this, and it's going to be fun." Lena gritted her teeth and grabbed the door knob. She twisted it and flung the door open. It banged against the wall with a loud thump. "Let's go."

They had made it to the trailhead when Lena had sat down on a rock with her head in her hands, her entire body shaking, unable to go further.

Progress as Kara had said.

<< . >>

The second attempt turned out to be much, much easier. Lena had not only made it out the door without any panic attacks, but she'd also reached the trailhead with only one bout of panic under her belt.

After that, putting one foot in front of the other had become a quiet litany in her head. She barely noticed her surroundings, only the crunch of her boots on rock and twigs broke through her haze. Kara's warm hand entangled in her own was all she felt, until they made it to the treeline.

There Lena had stopped. Because ahead was a group of people loudly laughing and calling to one another, while taking pictures of the lake to the east. The trail passed by a long ledge that overlooked the lake; it was why Lena had chosen it.

Her shoulders shook, her hands clenched, and her breaths came in sharp, staccato gasps. A ringing started in her ears, and abruptly, she was back in that terrifying moment the day before her Collapse. When the world had crushed the last of her defenses, when all she'd tried to rebuild had burned around her. The searing attacks on her attempts at redemption, at fixing her family's wrongs, had shredded what was left of her.

Lena fainted.

Kara must have caught her and flown her somewhere, because Lena woke next to the lake, far from the trail. Confused, she pushed herself out of Kara's tight hold and sat up, unsteadily. "What...?"

"Sorry, I know you said no flying, but I didn't know how else to get you out of sight." Kara looked at her apologetically.

She looked up at the mountain, where the ledge overlooking the lake loomed. No one was up there now. She sighed and leaned against Kara. "It's okay. I at least made it to the treeline."

The lake was a high enough elevation that very few bugs hovered above it. She spotted an occasional fish jumping, and watched the plethora of singing birds, a few swooping down to catch water spiders. The sun glinted off the surface, and the drainage from the glacier had given the lake a turquoise hue. Likely from a combination of minerals and microorganisms.

"I'm sorry," Lena said softly. "I... I didn't realize just seeing strangers would invoke panic." She shook her head. "It's why I picked mountain climbing. So I wouldn't see people."

"Maybe this was a good thing though?" Kara said.

Lena grimaced. "I don't see how, Kara. The goal is to relax myself. Not induce panic."

Kara's fingers gently carded her fingers through Lena's ponytail. "Yeah, okay, so seeing people caused panic, but," Kara stressed the word dramatically, "you made it out the door, through traffic, and to the treeline. That's huge progress."

Lena huffed, but truthfully, Kara had a point. Progress was still progress, even if it wasn't perfect like she'd hoped.

Learning to accept that things didn't have to be perfect was another task Kelly had given her. Perhaps this hike could aid that goal.

<<< . >>>

The third and fourth times, Lena decided to take up Kelly's offer to expand her comfort zone. The goal was to allow someone beside Kara with her on the hike. It was a huge step, one that would hopefully allow her to return to work.

Jess and Sam were doing a spectacular job covering for her during her recovery, but it left Lena with a lot of guilt. They shouldn't have to cover for her, and it was only a matter of time before they grew resentful of Lena's slow recovery.

"But are they resentful?" Nia walked with her to the trailhead. Out of all the superfriends, Lena jokingly called Nia the 'least aggravating friend.' If she was to practice being around people outside of Kara, Alex, and Kelly, Nia seemed a safe start.

"How could they not?" Lena replied frustrated. She stopped by the sign that listed the different trails and the mileage of them. The words had been carved deeply into the wood and stained a deep brown. At the base of the sign, a pile of rocks had been formed into a little mountain -- a cairn if she recalled correctly.

"Isn't that making an assumption though?" Nia tossed a few almonds and cranberries into her mouth from the trailmix she'd made for the journey.

"Ugh, you sound like Kelly," Lena grumbled. She choose the trail that led toward Potato Peak, a rather ridiculous name for a mountain. It was one of the easier hikes, less steep inclines, and the peak itself at three thousand feet, much closer to the treeline than the other peaks.

"I'm taking that as a compliment." Nia grinned at her and offered her the bag.

Lena took a handful. Not that she was hungry, but more to keep herself from thinking too much about the Collapse.

Particularly the moment when she'd seen her birth mother, that vivid hallucination before Kara and Alex had brought her back from the brink.

She could see it so perfectly in her mind. When her mother had tenderly touched her face, a look of pride curling up her lips. "You need to go back, love. Now's not your time." Those words had burned into Lena's memory, and she'd woken up in the medical ward of the Tower with Alex working the IV and several monitors.

Her boots hit the trail in a cadence, one that lulled her mind into a haze again, the memories stark and painful.

The trees glowered at them, their branches stretched out over the trail, leaving flickering shadows. Wind tugged at Lena's ponytail, a few wisps falling across her face. The trail curled around bend, and the trees on her right vanished, a stone ledge taking their place. Her feet took her onto the ledge, a desperation to stop filled her. She walked to the edge of the ledge, and looked down at the forest below. Bits of rocks tumbled off the edge from where she scuffed her boot against the granite.

"Lena?" Nia grabbed her arm and jerked her backward. "You okay?"

Lena realized her feet had been dangerously close to the edge. "Sorry," she winced. It probably had looked like she was about to do something stupid.

"No, it's okay. It's just, you were just a little too close..." Nia trailed off.

With a sigh, Lena turned to Nia. "I'm okay, truly. I wasn't going to jump. I made a promise."

"I know. I just..." Nia took a measured breath. "You really scared all of us, Lena, and I want you to know that we're here. All of us. We want to help you get better."

It was the first time anyone other than Kara had spoken of the Collapse. Affection for the younger girl flooded Lena, and she pulled Nia into a hug. "I know. I'm sorry." She rested her cheek against Nia's hair briefly. Nia's hugs were far tighter than Kara's carefully controlled ones, but then Nia didn't need to worry about superstrength accidentally hurting anyone.

Nia released Lena with a shaky smile. "You don't have to apologize, you know. It's just." She looped her arm through Lena's and led her away from the ledge. "Seeing you all hooked up, pale as a ghost for two weeks? You're like a big sister for me. I didn't want to lose you."

Tears stung Lena's eyes. These confessions had become more common among their little family since her Collapse.

As they returned to the trail, their boots crunched along the gravel, and the scent of sugar pine drifted on the cool breeze.

"Letting people in is hard for me," Lena admitted. "I... I've lost so much, and..." Sorting out a way to say her truth was always difficult. Kara and Kelly had helped by listening patiently and offering words to name what she'd been unable to name prior. "Everything feels fragile still. Lex and Lillian kept taking all the good things in my life from me. Probably to keep me in line. So accepting that you all are here for me? That you won't vanish on me? That's difficult."

Nia squeezed her arm. "Well, we all can remind you if that helps. Because we're all here for you. You're part of our family now, and we're not ever giving up on you. Got it?" The stern expression on Nia's face and the shake of her finger got Lena chuckling. "Hey now," she put her hands on her hips, "this is my serious expression."

"Sure." Lena laughed again. "Though, thank you, Nia. It helps to hear it."

That day, Lena and Nia made it to the peak, which meant a picture of Lena brooding on a rock, the view at her back.

<< . >>

Her sessions with Kelly led to the biggest challenge of all: going to a cafe after the hike, preferably with at least two people.

So far in her recovery, Lena had managed to avoid all spaces with groups of people. In fact, she had avoided entering any building that wasn't her and Kara's apartment or the Tower.

Alex and Kara came with her this time. The walk up to the peak -- this one was named Mount Lowe, picked because it was the location of a former railway.

The walk had gone surprisingly well, partly due to Alex and Kara keeping up a conversation that allowed Lena to quietly listen. Sometimes she'd speak up to share a thought, but the fact she didn't have to participate helped ease her anxiety.

When they had crested the top of the incline, their boots crunched on gravel and rock debris, while the deep canyon spread out below them. It gave a stunning view of the desert region to the east of National City, on the leeward side of the mountain range.

"Now for your picture!" Kara said, excited. "Pick a boulder and do that cute thoughtful pose."

Lena raised an eyebrow. "Cute thoughtful post?"

"The one where you look like that thinking statue at the museum."

Alex laughed. "Kara, maybe let Lena choose?"

Kara pouted. "But it's so cute."

Lena smirked. "All right." She choose a medium sized boulder and sat down to face the desert side. Her elbow on her knee, and her chin resting on her fist.

Kara squealed as she took the picture. That got a very dramatic eyeroll from her sister.

It was during the hike back to Alex's car when the panic hit. Lena nearly fainted from the inability to breath, her head spinning, and the world greying on her periphery.

Alex caught her arm and leveraged her to a boulder. "Count with me," she said, gently. "One, two, three, four..."

With each number recited, the more her breathing steadied, her heartbeat slowed down, and the greyness abated. Kara held her hand, gently rubbing her thumb back and forth. "Okay, okay, I'm good now." Lena breathed out a deep breath. "Let's... try the cafe."

"You sure?" Alex raised her eyebrows, her expression that studious one she got when appraising someone's health.

Lena frowned. "I will do this. A cafe won't kill me."

Alex nodded, though Kara looked worried. "If it's too much, let us know, okay?"

"I'm not glass," Lena bristled.

"No, you're not," Alex agreed. She gave Kara The Look, and Kara lowered her head resignedly.

The rest of the hike went well. Lena found herself enjoying the brisk wind and the scent of the sugar pines. They'd started to become a source of hope and peace for her, where she could walk amongst them and feel alive. Such moments felt so rare in her life.

In fact, the more she considered it, her most alive moments had always been at Kara's side.

The drive to the cafe invoked another panic attack, and this time Kara talked her through it. They had named three items for each of her five senses, which oddly enough alleviated the symptoms relatively quickly.

Entering the cafe proved much, much harder. People milled about the sidewalk and the outdoor tables, their voices melding into a roar. Lena had to close her eyes and count slowly to herself before she could step into the cafe itself.

Speaking her order proved too much, so Kara took over that task, while Alex directed her into a booth.

"God, this is pathetic," Lena muttered, while she huddled in the corner of the booth, her back to the corner of the seat and wall. Alex sat across from her.

"No, not pathetic." Alex smiled, gently. Of the superfriends, Lena considered, with affection, Alex the 'most aggravating friend.' "You're actually doing really well. Recovery takes time." She leaned forward, her fingers splayed on the table between them. "You've made a lot of progress this month, Lena. Don't discount that."

"Thank you for the speech," Lena said, dryly, but she couldn't help but smile. Alex was right.

She'd made it to a public place without a full blown panic attack or fainting.

<< . >>

Lena sat on the sofa in front of Kelly, her hands clasped in her lap, her back straight, and her shoulders rolled back. "I'd like to return to work tomorrow." They'd agreed to meet for therapy on Sunday during lunch, since Kelly often had her weeks full during the week, and Saturday was Esme day.

Kelly scribbled something in her notebook. "How do you feel about that goal?"

"Anxious. Worried I'll be caught panicking." Lena really did not want her employees to see her in such a state. It would ruin their trust in her surely.

"Why does it worry you that others will see that?"

"I have an image to maintain," Lena said far more caustically than she meant. "As the CEO, I need to be seen as strong. Panicking isn't strength."

"Is it? Our bodies respond to stressful situations in a variety of ways," Kelly explained, "and one of those ways is a panic attack. It's our body's way of reminding us to slow down. To pace ourselves. So with this in mind, how would you like to pace yourself?"

In all honesty, Lena wanted to leap back into work with a fervor, but she also had to be realistic. Since her Collapse, her stamina for people in general was incredibly short. Going back to her prior schedule might ruin her progress, and she really did not want that to happen. "I go to my office and do four hours of work. That's pacing, right?"

Kelly smiled. "It's a great goal."

<< . >>

Lena returned to work the next day. Walking into the building proved much harder than she'd anticipated.

She'd already had two panic attacks -- one getting ready for the day and the second leaving the apartment.

Kara stuck by her side, however, and was determined to walk with her up to her office. Her hand pressed against Lena's lower back, she gently guided her through the lobby, past the security desk, and to the elevators. Several people had waved hello, and Lena had tentatively raised her hand in acknowledgement. Words were impossible though, her throat too constricted.

The moment the elevator doors shut, tears stung the edges of her eyes, and her hands trembled. She clenched them into a fist, her gaze fixed on the elevator buttons. She would do this.

"How about we do that senses trick?" Kara suggested when the panic threatened to overwhelm Lena again. "It may help you focus."

"Fine." Lena hated to admit that the senses trick really did stop the descent into panic. "I see..." She glanced around the small space. "A painting of a cloudy sky on the ceiling; the top floor button is lit in green. You are wearing black slacks and a gorgeous blue blouse. I smell your sweet scent, the sterile chemicals of the elevator.... I hear the soft rumble of the elevator's movement, the sound of our breathing... I feel the warmth of your hand on my back, the steel of the elevator's wall, and the soft fabric of my jacket."

By the end of the exercise, Lena felt like she'd climbed a mountain. When the doors opened to the floor of her office, she realized in a way, she had climbed a metaphorical mountain.

Here she was, back at work, and Jess greeted her with such enthusiasm, the joy at seeing her startling Lena. She'd opened the office door, and Sam was already there, sitting on the sofa.

"Hey, it's so good to see you here." Sam stepped forward and swept her up in a hug.

Lena hugged her back, and rested her head briefly on Sam's shoulder. Similar to Kara, Sam held her tightly but with careful control, especially as her Kryptonian heritage had caused some of that superstrength to return. Whatever magic had bound her DNA in a human form had dissipated overtime, causing her hidden Kryptonian DNA to unveil slowly.

Pulling back, Lena smiled. "Thank you. It's good to be back." She took a deep breath and glanced at Kara. "Will... you stop by for lunch to check on me?"

Asking for this nearly took all her energy, and the urge to sit down overwhelmed her. Another mountain to climb she supposed.

"For sure! I'll bring your favorites." Kara grinned at her and kissed her on the lips. "And remember, if you need a break or comfort, I'm a text away, okay?"

Lena nodded. "Thanks. All of you."

Her goal had been four hours of work, and with Sam nearby, she made it all four hours with only two panic attacks. One had been a surprise meeting by a department head who needed aid in a lab. Sam had handled talking, while Lena struggled to hide the panic at the sudden intrusion.

Sure, she might have been unable to assist that emergency -- Sam handled it perfectly -- but she had survived that morning. As all her friends seemed determined to remind her, even small steps like these was still progress.

<<< . >>>

Lena curled one leg under herself and leaned her side against the sofa. Kara sat next to her, a grin on her face, her gaze still on the picture of Lena's triumph.

"I love how at peace you look." Kara smiled at her, her thumb gently rubbing across Lena's cheekbone. "You deserve that. To feel at peace, loved, welcomed."

Lena leaned into Kara's touch. "I do now. All of you have helped me get here." She tucked her phone away and kissed Kara. "Why don't we celebrate?" She cocked her eyebrow with a teasing smile.

Kara's eyes widened, her pupils enlarged. "Celebrating with you is the best." She swept Lena into her arms with a grin and bounded into the bedroom. Lena laughed, one arm around Kara's neck.

Progress indeed.

supercorp?

#supercorp #lena luthor #kara danvers #kara zor el #supergirl #CW: suicide inferred #Recovery #healing journey #Lena has a lot of trauma and deserves a healing environment to help her process it all #Hiking and mountain climbing meant as a metaphor for the healing journey itself

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fruitcoops · 3 years ago

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Hi Eve! Could you maybe write something like Sirius having a majorly stressful week and he's been on edge all day and he finally decides to go talk to Heather if only to just let it all out. By the time he comes home he's exhausted but Remus is all ready for him, and he's greeted with the sight of Remus in a nice little heap of blankets and pillows piled up on their sofa with a Disney movie ready to play and all his favourite snacks lined up on the coffee table. And Sirius of course just about dissolves into a puddle of affection and gratitude because Loops 🥰🥰🥰

It's honestly concerning how much fluff I write. Oh, well! This is such a cute idea and I'll never pass up an opportunity to write soft Coops <3 SW credit goes to @lumosinlove!

“So, you’ve started baking?” Heather looked up as Sirius nodded, fidgeting with the hem of his hoodie. It still smelled a little like Remus from the last time he stole it, but not nearly enough to drown him in comfort. “That’s awesome. If you don’t mind, can I ask why you chose that as a hobby?”

“It’s—” Stupid. He bit the words back at the last second; Heather never liked self-deprecation, and they had been working on positive self-talk for…as long as Sirius could remember, really. “Uh, I helped Re’s mom make a pie over the holidays and I just have good memories associated with it, I guess.”

Heather jotted something down, her soft smile never faltering. She was wearing a sweater the same color as her name—it was distilled comfort, and Sirius felt some of the tension release from his back. “You said you do it when you’re stressed, right?”

“Sometimes.”

“Does the rhythm help, or is it something else?”

He stared at his hands, rubbing his thumb over the callus from his favorite spatula that was beginning to form. “I think…” he trailed off and bit his lower lip. Honesty always wins. Why do you like it so much? “The rhythm helps quiet my head down, yeah. And it smells like home. And—and if I do it right, I can’t screw it up.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“If I follow the recipe, it works. Every time. I can read the instructions as many times as I need to, and I can focus on that until everything up here—” He gestured vaguely toward his head. “—shuts up for a bit.”

Heather nodded; the room was quiet for a moment while she wrote before she settled into her chair and let out a slow breath. “I’m really happy you started doing this, Sirius.”

“Yeah?”

“Yep. We’ve talked about finding healthy amounts of control and tethers in your daily life, and from what you’ve said, this makes you happy in addition to helping you calm down. What do you do with everything you make?”

He shrugged. “Give it away, mostly. It’s healthier than store-bought stuff, and the guys like it. Re and I can’t eat it all ourselves.”

“How often do you stress bake?”

“Oh, probably three or four times a week.”

Shit, shit, shit. Heather’s eyebrows crept upward. “Oh?”

“…yes.” Can’t take it back now.

“Okay.” She made a quick mark on her clipboard—for the hundredth time, Sirius wished he could snatch it and run. “Interesting. Why are you so stressed?”

“It’s not like that all the time,” he said quickly. “Just over the past couple weeks.”

“What’s been going on?”

“Everything?” he said. It sounded more like a question. Heather made another note. “It’s—well, Jules got the flu two months ago and Re wasn’t sleeping because he was worried, so I got nervous and started staying up later so I��d be tired, but then I got bored and worried about both of them so I texted Hope about her pie recipe—"

“Sirius,” Heather interrupted gently. He closed his mouth and tucked his hands into his sleeves, palms itching. “Deep breaths, then tell me what’s been going on these past couple weeks specifically that was stressing you out.”

He obliged, counting ten before speaking again as his brain stopped feeling like someone poured pop rocks into it. “Right. So, this whole habit thing started two months ago, and we’re getting closer to you-know-what—”

“The playoffs?”

He made a quiet noise of distress and tapped the wood of the chair. “Oui, that. There’s a lot of pressure from last year, and when my friends are stressed, I get stressed, and baking is easy and fun so I just…didn’t stop. A lot of things are happening right now, and this feels like the only one I can control.”

“There you go,” she said with a proud smile. “Thank you.”

“What did I do?”

“You’re being more open and honest with yourself. It’s good to see.” She crossed one leg over the other and leaned slightly forward. “You’re a really, really good captain, Sirius. You are so in-tune with the other people in your life, but you’ve got to remember to step back and do things for yourself sometimes. Right now, baking is your stress relief because you can’t control your friends’ lives or emotional states. Try to find more things like that.”

He stared at her for a moment. “Are you diagnosing me with ‘needs a hobby’?”

“In a sense, yes. You have done an incredible job over the past few months of letting your world revolve around things other than hockey. Branching out to baking was an excellent choice. Now it’s time to find other things that give you similar comfort, okay?”

“Alright.”

“Fantastic. Let’s brainstorm.”

--------------------------------

Sirius dropped his bag next to the shoe rack and immediately leaned back against the door, closing his eyes with a sigh. Therapy was always exhausting, but usually in a good way. Already, he could feel the weight of the last three weeks lifting off his shoulders. “I’m home!” he called.

Remus materialized from the living room and padded over in his fuzzy socks, planting a kiss on each of Sirius’ cheeks. “You look tired. Good or bad?”

“Good,” he assured him. “We worked on finding a hobby.”

“Oh?”

“Apparently, baking every other day isn’t a great long-term coping mechanism.”

Remus kissed him lightly on the lips. “I can’t tell you how glad I am to hear that.”

Sirius pulled back with a frown. “I thought you liked my baking.”

“I do. I also worry about how much space we have in our kitchen, and how much you sleep.” He gave Sirius a squeeze around the waist and patted his hip. “Now c’mere, I have a surprise.”

“What kind of surprise?” Sirius asked warily as he allowed himself to be pulled toward the living room. “Do we have company?”

“Does Hattie count?”

The dog in question barked when they entered the room, though she was buried beneath a mountain of blankets and only her nose and tail stuck out. In the hour and a half Sirius had been gone, the living room had transformed into a massive fort—the couch cushions were propped up around a nest of pillows and blankets, and low amber light fell over everything from the side table lamp. It radiated coziness and warmth; he felt the last bits of his exhaustion settle into contentment. “Wow.”

Remus beamed at him. “Do you like it?”

“I love it.” He cupped his face in his hands and nudged their noses together. “And I love you. So much. I’m going to go rinse off and change, but can we cuddle afterward?”

“What do you think this is for?” Remus teased. “You took my sweatshirt.”

“It’s too big for you anyway.”

“How long until I find it in my laundry pile because it doesn’t smell like me anymore?”

Sirius pretended to think for a moment, though he couldn’t keep his smile down as happiness bubbled through every vein. “Tomorrow.”

“Go take your shower,” Remus laughed, then kissed him once again. “I’ll see if I have anything else that’ll fit you.”

#sirius black #remus lupin #hattie #heather #sweater weather #coops #lumosinlove #my fic #fanfic #therapy #baking

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makeste · 4 years ago

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BnHA Chapter 302: As the Todoroki Turns

Previously on BnHA:

Today on BnHA: We have a very fun chapter in which (1) Shouto grows up lonely on account of his parents being worried that his siblings will literally try to kill him, (2) Natsu and Fuyu grow up neglected on account of not being special and/or self-destructive enough to attract attention, (3) we get to revisit all of that exciting spousal abuse from chapter 39, and (4) Touya burns to death right on cue, pretty much exactly like we expected it to happen. Thankfully since this is a shounen manga, Horikoshi finds some hope in all this misery as the Todoroki family rallies together, with Shouto getting his long-overdue credit for being a perfect sweet angel who put up with all of this shit for sixteen years and somehow came out of it strong and kind and empathetic and determined. Anyway, so that flashback was a barrel of laughs. But now that it’s over, we can put all of that angst behind us, and move on to... well I guess, probably, more angst. Look, we’re short on variety at the moment. Bear with it.

ouch. we knew this was coming, but still

A+ parenting move there. “ho boy, our eldest just tried to murder our youngest, now what? hmm how about we isolate our youngest from all human contact”

though in their defense, we probably shouldn’t have expected this rabidly strength-obsessed fire man and his wife who was groomed since childhood to obey her family’s whims to have any idea of how to raise stable, well-adjusted offspring

SERIOUSLY YOU GUYS

this is a perfect example of Enji’s tragically self-revolving viewpoint right here. just because being a hero is your entire world doesn’t mean you can just excuse yourself from anything outside of that and act like it’s out of your control. “alas, all I care about is hero stuff and my son can’t be a hero, we are doomed to inhabit two different worlds” no you jackass, it’s called having more than one hobby?? figuring out how to spend some time with your son that doesn’t involve training?? the same exact thing you were telling him to do last week, while ignoring that you’ve never done that yourself in your life??

that said, yet again we have that complexity though because it’s obvious that Enji at least on some level is aware of his own flaws, even though he seems unwilling or unable to confront them. honestly, from what we’ve seen so far, Enji’s obsession with surpassing All Might might be more accurately called an addiction. he literally can’t let go of it even though he’s fully aware of how it’s slowly destroying his life. and so in the same way that a lifelong smoker or alcoholic might tell their child to stay away from cigarettes and booze, Enji tells Touya not to follow down the same path as him, even though he himself doesn’t know how to leave that path. so yes, it’s hypocritical as fuck, but there’s also an element of helplessness there as well because Enji literally doesn’t know how not to be like this

though all the same he sure could stand to put in more than just a token effort. but it is what it is, and we already know how much he’ll come to regret it

and meanwhile Baby Shouto has frozen his sleep bubble with his quirk lmao. so I guess his quirk did come in early. that’s a recipe for chaos right there

once again Shouto is ruining every single dramatic panel in this flashback

this was so dark and intense... and then I spotted the lil bubs in the corner. Horikoshi please control yourself

“some hero you are, running away” and then all of a sudden, “FIVE YEARS LATER” lol what. OKAY THEN

(ETA: love the confirmation that eight-year-old Natsu comes from the Iida school of puberty and is basically a fully grown man, and meanwhile Touya comes from the hobbit school of puberty and has been perpetually eight for the past five years.)

“HEY BIG BRO WANNA COME RECREATE AN ICONIC FLASHBACK SCENE WITH US. WE’VE GOT THE SOCCER BALL RIGHT HERE, BUT HURRY UP OR WE’LL BE TOO LATE FOR SHOUTO TO WALK ON BY AND STOP TO LOOK”

lol and that’s literally the next three panels. but Horikoshi did add this extra bit after Endeavor starts to drag Shouto away

seriously Enji what the hell did you expect was going to happen here. “Touya went nuts and tried to kill his little brother out of jealousy, so let’s make it clearer than ever that Shouto is the important child and all the other children are just rejects. this will definitely not make the problem 100x worse, and will surely lead to Touya giving up and living a happy life, having been emotionally abandoned by the person he admired more than anyone.” good for you pal you figured it all out. no need for that plan b, “we all just go to therapy”

anyway so he’s telling Shouto he can’t play because he needs more endurance training. and meanwhile Touya’s patented Todoroki Drama Genes are going through puberty as well

definitely the face of a happy, emotionally stable child who’s not still plotting to murder his younger brother in his sleep

“WELL ACTUALLY MAKESTE” lol I stand corrected??

apparently during the five year interim Touya actually stopped blaming Shouto and realized Enji was the one at fault. good for him! a bit inconsistent, given what we know happens later, but I assume we’ll get to that in good time

anyway. “yeah man I agree that dad sucks, but it’s the middle of the night and I’m only eight and you’ve been monologuing for the past two hours bro”

LMAO

the manga is making my jokes for me, only better. fine then

looks like someone’s still miffed about that disagreement he had with his baby sister back when she was like four

“Fuyu doesn’t get properly riled up like I want her to so ranting to her is annoying.” okay but having been in Fuyu’s shoes, it really is just a different way of coping, and I can guarantee she’s not as fine with the whole situation as Touya might think. but making your peace with something is often a decision that’s made for emotional self-preservation reasons. and I sure as hell don’t fault her for trying to shut out a situation that she had no control over, and trying to make the best of it, and scrape together as normal a childhood as she could manage

and now in Touya’s defense as well, that is of course easier said than done, and I’m sure if there was a “push this button and instantly get over all of the trauma in your life” switch readily available for Touya then he would have pushed it too. unfortunately it’s not always that simple

so now Rei is pleading with Touya not to go train up on his little emo hill again, but it doesn’t seem like much has changed since he was eight

I don’t think he gives two figs about being a hero; he just wants his father to look at him again with pride. fucking hell, stop doing this to me you damn Todorokis

guh, they keep telling him the same thing over and over again

even if we hadn’t already known he was gonna go melt his jawbone off soon, I wouldn’t have expected a line like that to go over well

yep. fuck

that Todoroki puberty angst, though. nothing else quite like it

“you have a part in this too, Mom” ooooooh man

okay but look, he’s not entirely wrong. like, I’m not saying any of this is Rei’s fault at all! she’s in an impossible situation where she’s afraid to stand up to Enji (who by this point has shown that he’s willing to physically attack her if things get too heated, which is terrifying), and doesn’t really have anywhere to turn for support. her parents aren’t helping much if at all, and Japan in general is just a terrible country to be in when you’re in a domestic abuse situation. everyone’s expected to put on a brave face and deal with their problems all on their own in private. Rei is basically completely isolated at this point, and she doesn’t know what else to do, and so she’s just trying to keep the situation as stable as possible for the kids

but on the other hand, “for the kids” is also where that argument starts to break down a bit, because at this point Shouto is also being physically abused by his father, and the other kids are continuing to be neglected (emotionally if not physically), as they have been for years. so the situation really isn’t stable at all for them. and as a kid, what you end up learning in that type of situation is that you can’t rely on either parent. not the abusive one, certainly, but also not the other one who can’t protect you from any of it. even if they love you and they’re trying, they’re just as helpless as you. Rei is struggling to deal with all of this with one hand tied behind her back, and I get it, and I’m not blaming her at all. but all the same, particularly given that she’s (understandably) putting almost all her focus on Shouto, the end result is that the other kids have basically been left to fend for themselves

so yeah! a shitty situation all around. and one of those cases where it’s not really anyone’s fault (aside from Enji’s), but I can understand the resentment Touya is feeling all the same. and I’m so glad Horikoshi is acknowledging this, because it’s something I probably would have been too uncomfortable to bring up otherwise. as it is it’s still an incredibly heavy subject, and one that I probably have too many personal feelings about

anyway, so once again the whole “we’ll try talking to him and then just shrug our shoulders when it doesn’t work” parenting strategy doesn’t really pan out for the Todoroki fam

sob this boy is Anakin Skywalkering before our very eyes. all that’s missing is AFO to come and start whispering in his ear. any minute now...

“anyway so then he got taller and his fire changed from red to blue”

guess we’re getting pretty close then huh. this is the part of the flashback that I really don’t want to see, but also unfortunately the part that I’m most curious about :/

oh for fuck’s --

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN IGNORING HIM FOR FIVE YEARS DIDN’T ACTUALLY DO ANYTHING TO SOLVE THE PROBLEM” sob. back to the drawing board I guess

I thought he got taller, why is he still only like a third of Enji’s height here

oh fuck me these are armor-piercing feels. this is the heavy artillery right here

ENJI I’M BEGGING YOU PLEASE STOP AND THINK FOR ONE MOMENT IN YOUR LIFE BEFORE DOING SOMETHING YOU’LL REGRET FOR THE REST OF ALL TIME. your child just told you that he still thinks beating All Might is the only thing you care about, and that he believes his existence is a mistake unless he finds some way of doing that for you. please stop for a moment to contemplate that and choose your next words with care and grace and oh who the hell am I kidding

-- OR WE COULD JUST BLAME REI

go on and blame everyone but yourself then!! that’s a great solution!! jesus christ man I know this is Endeavor at his literal worst but still this is fucking hard to watch

POOR BABY SHOUTO IS YELLING AT HIS DAD NOT TO HIT HIS MOMMY THIS LITTLE BRAVE BOY NEEDS SO MANY HUGS OH MY GOD

AND MEANWHILE THE OTHERS ARE HUDDLED IN THE NEXT ROOM TRYING NOT TO CRY AH FUCK

(ETA: Fuyu covering Natsu’s ears cuts RIGHT TO THE CORE OF ME. Horikoshi if you’re really not gonna get these kids some therapy then at least consider giving your readers some. what is this.)

you know it’s bad when you’re starting to think the part where the kid burns to death might actually be a less traumatic thing to cut to right now

holy shit, actual Rei thoughts

“I was the one who ultimately made that choice” well there we go, wonder if that’ll put that whole argument to bed at last. I doubt it, but you never know. actually who am I kidding it’s not gonna settle jack shit lol

oh thank god, they decided it was getting too intense and cut away back to the present to narrate this next (final?) part

get ready to cue up that Alicia Keys. THIS BOY IS ON FIREEEEEEE

yeah I think that’s one thing we can mostly all agree on. neither of them had any clue what the fuck they were doing pretty much at any point. though I will say that the hypocrisy of him being all “WHY DIDN’T YOU STOP HIM” followed by him IMMEDIATELY DOING THE EXACT SAME THING is a bit rich

(ETA: and he still has this problem, doesn’t he? he froze up when Ending snatched Natsuo, and again when Dabi was attacking Shouto. he’s so afraid of doing the wrong thing that he ends up not doing anything, which of course is exactly what led to Touya’s death. damn Enji I guess you’ve still got some additional character development to unlock.)

and of course neither of them could possibly have known how badly it was going to turn out. like, the consequences here were WAY disproportionate even for the shittiest of parenting. no one expects “I didn’t know how to talk to my son” to snowball into “my son burned to death and then somehow came back as a villain and murdered thirty people”

ohhhhhhhh fuck me

LITERALLY INCINERATED THE ENTIRE HILLSIDE. fuck. and I am so not ready for the scene of Enji finding the remains of his jawbone afterwards. at least we were spared anything super-graphic (for now at least)

I feel like the timeline here is off, btw?? wasn’t Touya’s death supposed to happen after Rei got hospitalized? this might be the first actual retcon of the entire flashback. although I think it makes more sense this way tbh

I do appreciate that ten years later Enji is finally reflecting on the fact that if he’d just given up his stupid obsession he could have stopped his family from crumbling apart. that probably sounds sarcastic as fuck, but it’s not. there are countless jerks out there who would have still managed to find a way to blame literally everyone and everything under the sun except for themselves. at least he finally figured out how to take responsibility, even if it came too late to stop his son from dying and being radicalized into a villain terrorist organization

and speaking of, it seems to me we’re missing a third and final part to this little tale of woe, and one which only Touya himself will be able to shed any light on. so we’ll see how that goes

oh man seeing the other kids blaming themselves even though none of it was their fault hits hard af. Rei wasn’t kidding when she said they’d been bearing that burden of guilt far longer than Enji

SHOUTO I SWEAR TO GOD IF THE NEXT PANEL IS YOU APOLOGIZING FOR BEING BORN, I WILL... WELL I’LL BE VERY SAD, I GUESS. SO DON’T DO IT

oh good he’s just being quiet. good. it absolutely is not your fault lil bean. it’s not theirs either, but feeling guilty about things that aren’t your fault is a time-honored shounen tradition

goddammit I braced myself for the angsty Shouto panel a page too early. gotta do it all over again now lol. okay here goes

;_;

well well well would you look at that

imagine that. talking things out with your child before they make a rash decision. looks like the Todorokis’ parenting skills are finally leveling up

OH MY GOD

holy shit. this is the most quintessential moment of father/son Todoroki bonding in the entire series. for me it even tops the “nice scar” scene lol. Enji sobbing at the fact that he still has a chance to set things right. and Shouto offering his hand in what is actually the most mature and selfless gesture I’ve ever seen, and being all “we’ll stop him together” to his dad who he hates, but also doesn’t really entirely hate anymore. and all of that is incredibly moving... BUT ALSO HE STILL REFUSES TO MAKE EYE CONTACT WITH HIM AND HE WOULD LIKE HIM TO STOP BEING SO FUCKING DRAMATIC ALREADY IF YOU DON’T MIND. “WHEN YOU’RE DONE CRYING...” fkjldsk

OH MY FUCKING LORD

(ETA: wouldn’t be a Todoroki drama fest if there wasn’t somebody listening in on the whole thing in secret just around the corner lmao.)

“you think we should have waited somewhere else?” “yeah, probably.” “are you feeling a lot of secondhand embarrassment too?” “god, you have no idea.” STFU HAWKS IT’S NOT EMBARASSING TO BE MOVED TO TEARS BY YOUR FAMILY ALL COMING TOGETHER IN YOUR DARKEST HOUR TO GIVE YOU HOPE THAT YOU PROBABLY DON’T DESERVE BUT ARE NONETHELESS INDESCRIBABLY GRATEFUL FOR

and anyway you chose these guys as your found family, bucko. too late to back out now. next time go get yourself adopted by the Iidas then

AND MEANWHILE NO WORD ON THE WHOLE “HOW DID A THIRTEEN-YEAR-OLD SURVIVE A FIRE THAT COVERED HIS BODY WITH HORRIFIC SCARS AND MELTED HIS JAW OFF, AND HOW DID HE SOMEHOW THEN MANAGE TO GO INTO HIDING FOR TEN WHOLE YEARS, AND WHAT HAPPENED IN THAT INTERIM TO CHANGE HIS GOAL FROM ‘SURPASS ALL MIGHT TO IMPRESS MY DAD’ TO ‘KILL ALL HEROES TO MAKE MY DAD SUFFER’.” as if we don’t know the answer to that. but still, would it kill Horikoshi to just confirm AFO’s involvement in all of this already. at this point it’s basically just a formality

so here’s hoping next week we’ll either get that, or more Hawks action, or (DARE I EVEN SUGGEST, I’M AFRAID TO JINX IT) finally cut back to Bakugou and Deku and All Might omg. either way I’m hyped

#bnha 302 #todoroki touya #dabi #todoroki enji #endeavor #todoroki rei #todoroki shouto #todoroki natsuo #todoroki fuyumi #bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #bnha manga spoilers #makeste reads bnha #my sincerest apologies for this absurdly long recap which is barely funny at all!#THERE WAS VERY LITTLE HUMOROUS CONTENT IN THIS CHAPTER #congratulations horikoshi you win this round

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emma-nation · 3 years ago

Text

Follow Me Through The Dark (Cassandra Dimitrescu x OC AU) - Chapter 1

Summary: After Mother Miranda's death, Cassandra Dimitrescu has been dealing with some unpleasant changes. When a stranger with a mysterious past arrives in the castle, she will realize her problems are only getting started.

Pairing: Cassandra Dimitrescu x f!OC Genre: Between T and M (Trigger warning: for violence, blood, abuse and eventual smut)

Notes:

- My second Resident Evil fic - I've been replaying most of the games of the series to give me some new ideas and improve my fics. I can't believe I've been playing this game for over 20 years now!

- You voted and there was a tie between this fic and a sequel to my BelaxOC fic, The Devil In I. I started to write both, but decided to work on this one first as it's set before the sequel.

- Both fics are connected and in the same universe. There are mentions of the events of The Devil In I in this fic, as well of Bela's OC. So I recommend reading it, if you haven't yet.

- English is not my native language. I apologize for any mistakes.

- Your likes and comments are always appreciated!

London, United Kingdom - June, 2021

I stood frozen in place as I heard the sirens approaching. I always found the sound of them soothing, like a lullaby. Somehow I felt like someone was coming to my rescue again, just like in my first day in the city.

I thought about the woman who rescued me when I was seven years old. After we escaped from the village in a helicopter, she dropped me at some random street in London. After giving me some food and money, she briefly explained, in my native language, she could no longer take care of me. She had more important business to take care of.

I sat down and cried until I heard the sirens. Somebody called the police when they realized I was a foreigner child abandoned in an unknown country. I thought I'd finally be safe. I had no idea of what was about to come. The things I would have to face.

I hated my savior for a few years. But as I grew up, I understood her reasons. I never saw her again, but I still remembered her perfectly. She was strong, fierce and willed. I was determined to work hard to become a version of her.

And it was obvious I was failing.

"Hands in the air! You're under arrest."

I didn't resist. Somehow I expected to be taken to prison this time. No more community service or therapy. I was looking forward to something new. And unhealthy.

Unhealthy hobbies and coping mechanisms were my specialty.

"I hope you'll rot in prison this time, chica," I felt his hot breath whispering in my ear as he shoved me hard against the car.

"Well," I smirked sarcastically. "Me too."

He twisted my arm while he handcuffed my hands behind my back. I let out a pained groan, what seemed to annoy him even more, to the point he decided to inflict me some more pain.

"Hey!" I heard a familiar voice shouting from a distance. "That's enough. I'll take this from now."

I closed my eyes, knowing I was safe. Safe, not satisfied. Now I knew I wouldn't be going to prison. The Police Chief would assure it wouldn't happen. He would always clean up my mess.

"Again," Samuel sighed. I rested my feet on his car's panel and started to light up a cigarette. Before I could do it, he took it from my hand and threw it by the window.

I had been in trouble enough times to know the Chief by his first name. In fact, he was the one to find me when I arrived in London. When he first heard of my story, he felt sorry for me and we became close. For pity, affection or because I reminded him of his own daughters - I'd never know, but he was the closest I had of a father figure.

"I thought you'd be happy to see me."

"I am happy to see you, Gabby. When I visit you on your birthday or when you decided to show up at my house for the Christmas dinner. Not when you get caught stealing luxury cars!"

"So, I assume you still won't send me to prison this time?" I asked, as he continued to drive.

"No," Samuel calmly responded. "I still got the hope, you know? That you'll make things different, that you'll choose another path."

I recognized the route, he was taking me back to the place I had just escaped from.

"I... I don't live there anymore."

"I knew it. What was his name? Ryan, Hank...? What has he done to you this time, Gabby? I noticed the bruises around your neck!"

I closed my eyes, avoiding to give him an answer. Samuel changed the route to his own house. He'd let me spend the night like he usually did everytime I had nowhere to go.

"It explains why you were stealing again," he told, shaking his head in denial. He knew me too well. "Everytime something bad happens, you try to destroy yourself somehow. Why do you even do this to yourself? It's almost like you feel you don't deserve better. That you don't deserve happiness."

"Don't have such high expectations about me, old man," I finally opened my mouth to say something. "You'll get disappointed."

"Maybe. I'm giving you the benefit of doubt."

I had given up on happiness a long time ago. I had accepted my fate, I'd die young, alone and empty. My biggest accomplishment in life would be surviving what they called 'the incident'.

---------

I had a hard time to sleep that night - no pills seemed to be effective in my case. When I finally managed to rest, Samuel's wife, Sarah, woke me up to have some breakfast. That woman had the kindest heart I've ever seen. She always accepted my presence in her house and treated me just like any of her daughters. Even when I was at my worse, she was always taking care of me.

Once I finished, I went to Samuel's home office to see him. He was sitting behind the desk, reading the daily news while drinking some coffee.

"Good morning, Gabby," it was impressive how he could sense my presence without even taking his eyes off the newspaper.

"Morning," I sat down in front of him, wondering what I should say next. I was torn between an apology or another lame excuse for my behavior.

"Want to give it a try?"

He finally dropped the newspaper to finish his coffee, offering it to me.

"Jeez, no. I can watch the news on TV later."

"But I have something here that will interest you," Samuel pulled a file from one of his drawers and threw it on desk. I read the label 'Castle Dimitrescu - Romania'.

"What is this?" I asked curious.

"A group of tourists who just returned from Romania were at the precinct a few weeks ago. Obviously no one believed them, they were going to discard this file, but I thought you'd like to take a look."

I opened the file and stared at the page, trying to focus my attention on the first few lines. I read them several times before moving on. Samuel anticipated an explanation before I even attempted to read the rest, which was nice of him.

"These tourists were exploring some secluded locations in Romania. They reported to have found a village where people worshipped a woman, who they called 'Mother Miranda'. Later, a stranger conducted them to this castle. The Countess and her daughters were reported to be vampire-like creatures, infected by a parasite. Somehow, they managed to escape unharmed."

A few specific words on that long report caught my attention: 'village', 'cult', 'creatures'. That was exactly what I had been looking for my entire life. No one would ever believe such a story, unless they went through something similar.

"See it, Gabby? You wanted to confront your past and prove people you're not crazy. This is your chance."

I was ready to expose that reality to the whole world. My people's history would finally be told. Their death would not be in vain.

----------

Eastern Europe, Castle Dimitrescu - November, 2021

Cassandra never cared about the concept of time. She didn't have to, she was immortal. The days in the castle were always the same, which she enjoyed. She hated changes. Even a minor alteration in her routine would get her in the worse of the moods. However, during one of her visits to the village she bought a calendar. All the previous days, until now, had been marked with a red 'X'. Nobody knew what that meant and they shouldn't know. That was her secret.

She knew the day had arrived right when she woke up, very early in the morning. That unexpected event was making a fuss among the new servants. It was everything they'd talk about in the last few days. As soon as she left the bedroom, she observed as two or three maids exchanged whispers in the corridors.

"Ms. Bela has arrived."

"Oh my god, you were right. She is so gorgeous!"

Cassandra cleared her throat, making them widen their eyes in panic. She had that effect on humans. She scared them quite easily.

"Shouldn't you be performing your tasks?" She angered. "You're not getting paid to gossip around the castle. Go! Now!"

They quickly obeyed. She let out a small victorious laugh.

When she arrived at the staircase, the scene in front of her caused her nausea. There was a pile of Dimitrescu women in the main hall. She could barely see her older sister, as her mother and Daniela squeezed Bela in a group hug.

"Ughhhhh," she muttered to herself as she discreetly approached. "I should burn that calendar."

"Hello to you too, Cassandra," Bela spoke when she finally freed herself from Lady Dimitrescu's enormous arms. She patted her on the shoulder. They wouldn't hug. That was not how it worked between them. No displays of affection, except in desperate occasions. Very desperate occasions. "I know you missed me."

Obnoxious bastard. She knew nothing.

"Not even for a day."

Cassandra continued to follow her sister until her bedroom. For Bela everything came easier, all she had to do was smile. That goddamn perfect smile that seemed to hypnotize everyone around her. In the moment, the servants were bickering to decide who'd carry her bags inside the bedroom and earn a position as her chambermaid.

"Where's your pet?" She asked, even though she knew the answer. She was in the office when her mother and Bela were talking through a video call, but every opportunity she had to taunt her older sister was precious. "Didn't she want to come with you?"

"If you're talking about my girlfriend," Bela corrected. "Aleena is spending the holiday meeting some relatives in New England."

"Oh and obviously, she didn't want you to be there."

"Nice try, but no. I was the one who wanted to give her some space during this moment."

The servants were paying too much attention to their conversation. Bela dismissed them and started to unpack her clothes herself. Cassandra watched in silence, feeling a hint of jealousy. Her sister looked different. Not only Bela seemed more mature and grown up, but she also looked prettier. All her clothes were new and modern. She was also wearing a hairpiece to cover the scar on her head. Maybe living in the civilization wasn't so bad after all.

"Be careful," Cassandra smirked. "You know what happens when you give them too much space."

She didn't hate Aleena Novak, but she wished she'd vanish, disappear. Then maybe things would go back to the way they were before. She blamed that kid for all the unpleasant changes she had been dealing with. But who was she trying to fool? Nothing would ever be the same and the only one to blame was Miranda.

"Don't worry," Bela adopted the same sarcastic tone she was using. "I'm only staying for one or two weeks, not enough for Aleena to forget me. We have a relationship based on mutual trust and respect."

Cassandra let out a groan, that was absolutely gross. Only a fool like Bela could've fallen into that human trap.

"Is that how the Americans call it?"

"No. It's called 'love', Cassandra. Maybe you should try it someday."

"I'll pass."

In the end, she decided to help her sister to arrange her stuff. No displays of affection. But who would know it wasn't an accident when brushed her fingers on Bela's arm?

"I missed you too," Bela spoke when they were almost done.

This time, she didn't deny it. But she didn't confirm either.

It was an accident.

----------

Castle Dimitrescu, Lady Dimitrescu's Room - November, 2021

Mother Miranda was dead, but she definitely left them a legacy of consequences and punishments. If a small part of her conscience was still inhabiting those fungal roots, in that moment she should be laughing. None of the Lords was struggling so hard to survive as House Dimitrescu.

They no longer had someone to find and capture humans for them to consume. There was a person who did that under Miranda's orders, but since her death they no longer showed up. Without consuming blood for such a long period, Cassandra and Daniela were weakened, losing their regeneration skills and their ability of turning into flies. It was Lady Dimitrescu who was struggling harder. The lack of blood was making her suffer from the symptoms of her blood disease all over again.

She had good and bad days. That was being a terrible week.

"She refuses to feed from the blood bags I brought," Bela lamented, shaking her head in denial. Cassandra knew her concerns about their mother's health was the only reason of her visit.

She glanced at Daniela. Her younger sister had no problems to adapt to Bela's new pathetic habits. Traitor.

"And so do I," Cassandra told. "I refuse to feed like a moron."

"Then die like an idiot."

"It won't be enough to supply all of us for too long."

"I know, Cassandra," Bela stood up, ready to leave Alcina's chambers. "I'm only trying to do something to help while I'm here. If you have any better ideas, I'd appreciate."

Her older sister was wearing a dress and a matching hat. She was trying to appear formal, but instead she looked like a bad version of their mother. It was almost like Bela was starting to think about the possibility of replacing her, in case the odds remained against them.

"What are you doing dressed like this?" The brunette Dimitrescu sister asked. "You look ridiculous!"

"Mother asked me to find a new servant to replace that one you 'accidentally' murdered a few weeks ago," Bela answered. "I'm going to interview the candidates."

"We're coming with you. It should be a task for all the three of us. After all, you don't even live here anymore."

----------

Sitting on the couch, in the middle of her two sisters, Cassandra couldn't feel more annoyed. And bored. Forty five minutes passed and apparently no candidates had applied for the job.

"The rumors are spreading fast," Bela was ready to give up. "Nobody wants to work on this damn place anymore."

The door opened, the new housekeeper announced their only candidate, an old man. The eldest Dimitrescu daughter rolled her eyes. They clearly stated they were searching for a woman, with some experience with gardening. Besides performing the other basic tasks, the new employee would be responsible for tendering for the garden while Lady Dimitrescu was feeling ill.

Cassandra grinned ear to ear. They didn't have a candidate for the position, but they certainly had found something much better. A candidate for that night's main dish. She didn't bother listening to the interview. She had other plans in mind.

"We can tell his family he had a heart attack," she shouted when the three sisters were alone again. "He's old as fuck!"

"Pretty please," Daniela made her puppy dog eyes. They always seemed to work on most of the people. Bela was an exception though. "I promise I'll never steal anything from your bedroom again."

"No," Bela sighed weary. "We can't do that. It'll raise the attention of the other servants, as well of the villagers. If they call the BSAA, it'll end badly for all of us."

"Screw the servants! Screw the villagers! Screw you, Bela! I'm going to save mother's life."

Cassandra stood up and headed to the door. Her sister was ready to stop her when the housekeeper returned, getting her attention. They had another candidate. A young woman that was late for the interview.

"Screw her too," Cassandra proceeded with her plan. If she calculated it right, the old man should still be in the castle's grounds. It would be a piece of cake. No one would even notice.

----------

Castle Dimitrescu, Living Room - November, 2021

I heard many things about Castle Dimitrescu around the small village in Romania. None of them were good. There were many reports of people who disappeared in the castle's surroundings and were never seen again. There were stories about the Countess and her daughters consuming human blood to live. There were rumors about them being able to turn into insects.

Okay. I was at the right place to obtain all the proof I needed.

When I found the advertisement on the newspaper I couldn't miss the opportunity. They were searching for a new maid and I had just been fired from my job. It was destiny.

"Good afternoon. I'm Mrs. Petrova, the housekeeper. And you are?"

I took a while to answer. I was too focused on observing the environment around me. Obviously, everything appeared normal. What did I expect to find? A puddle of blood in the middle of the main hall? Coffins? Skeletons?

"Oh, I'm sorry," I smiled and shook the woman's hand. "Gabriela. Gabriela Rodriguez."

"Follow me. The Mistress' daughters are waiting for you."

I checked down my watch as I followed the woman. Fuck, I was late as usual. Pissing off the Volturi coven wasn't a great start. Mrs. Petrova knocked on the door and announced my presence. A female voice told her to let me in.

"Hi," I waved and smiled. "I'm Gabriela. And... I'm late."

I couldn't allow myself to get nervous. I tended to do and say stupid things when I was nervous. I had the impression I should've kept my mouth shut, but then one of the two sisters smiled and waved back at me.

"Hi, Gabriela. I'm Daniela," the red haired sister said. "Oh my god! Our names match!"

The other sister censored her with a nasty look. She should be the one in charge. The Countess' heiress. She was the one I was supposed to earn the trust.

"Good afternoon," she finally greeted, after analyzing me head to toe. "Bela Dimitrescu. May you have a sit?"

I nodded. As I moved to the couch in front of them I wondered if I should do something special, such as curtsy or kiss their hands. I didn't. I just smiled again and sat down. None of them looked at me in disapproval. Good, I did it right at least once.

"Where are you from, Gabriela?" Bela asked while serving me a cup of tea. All I could do was noticing how gorgeous both of the sisters looked. That was how so many people managed to get kidnapped and killed inside the castle. It was easy to get hypnotized by their beauty. I'd have to remind myself often they were creatures, not humans, in case I got the job.

"I'm from London," I told, forcing a little bit my British accent. "But I was born in Spain."

"So cool," Daniela attempted to join the conversation. "Can you tell us more about the places you lived? I mean, we've never left..."

The blonde Dimitrescu daughter censored her again, before proceeding with our interview.

"Why are you interested in the position?"

"I... I was just fired from my last job," No! Bad answer! I had to find a way to fix it. "And I can do literally anything you ask me. I learn fast, you show me once and I'll immediately learn how it's done."

Then I remembered they wanted someone with some gardening experience. I repeated all the information I learned through some videos on YouTube, trying to sound like I was a botany enthusiast. Truth be told, I knew nothing about gardens.

"Do you have any experience in the area?"

My experience was limited to all those little plants I accidentally killed in my apartment. I handed her my resume. Her golden yellow eyes scanned it for a couple of minutes before they focused on me again. She knew there was something shady about me. Her vampire senses should be telling her there was something wrong. Nobody changed jobs so quickly as I did. Would she check my criminal records too? She was a murderer, for god's sake! Compared to any of the sisters, I was a saint.

I couldn't show any weakness. I had to keep a straight face. I had to appear confident. I took a sip of my tea and smiled again.

"Okay..." she finally sighed. "You can stay for a few days for practice. If you adapt well, the job is yours."

"I won't disappoint you, Ms. Dimitrescu."

"Don't worry about me. It's my mother you need to impress."

Alcina Dimitrescu. Her daughters weren't so scary after all. I couldn't say the same about her. Even the huge portrait hanging on the wall scared the shit out of me. Was she really that tall? Only a mutation would make that possible.

I headed back to the village, where I'd collect my bags, and I started to think about their names. Alcina, Bela and Daniela. A, B and... D. If the stories I heard were true, there was supposed to be a third daughter. But where was she? Where was 'C'?

----------

Castle Dimitrescu, Living Room - Present Days

That old scumbag gave Cassandra a lot more trouble than she initially predicted. With the lack of blood, she was slower than usual. She had a hard time chasing him through the vineyards. Her mother would freak out when she discovered she had damaged some vines. At least she granted her a decent meal for dinner.

When she returned to the castle, she was dirty and sweaty, leaving a trail of muddy boots behind. The displeasure at Mrs. Petrova's face was priceless. Tormenting the servants was one of her favorite hobbies.

"Here we go..." the smirk from Cassandra's face immediately faded away as soon as she reached the first corridor, headed to her bedroom.

Bela was also waiting for her, with her arms crossed and a frown. She was judging her, obviously. She always did. Even if her sister was only one or two years older, she still acted like she was a superior being.

"Don't give me this look, okay?" Cassandra anticipated. She tried to pass through Bela, only to get stopped. "Don't you even dare to call me irresponsible and selfish. I'm doing it for us. For our family."

"Not only you ignored my order, Cassandra, but you killed that man in the daylight," she scolded. "I could hear the screaming from the living room! What if any servants had seen you? You were absolutely reckless!"

"Okay, Bela... Let's talk about being reckless. If someone hadn't fallen in love with a certain stupid human, that fucking Alliance would've never gotten involved. We'd still be living in peace."

"Oh, is it Aleena's fault now? Mother was the one who brought her to the castle in first place. And did you forget that if it wasn't for her Miranda would've killed all of us?"

Deep down, Cassandra knew it. But the anger inside her was getting out of control. She had to burn some of that chaotic energy somehow. She wanted to pick a fight with her older sister. She wanted to hit her right where she knew it'd hurt.

"It doesn't matter! I should've killed her as soon..."

Their discussion was interrupted by a loud, familiar scream.

"CASSANDRA!" Lady Dimitrescu was feeling ill, but it didn't made her voice any weaker. The brunette's name echoed through the whole castle.

"You already told her," Cassandra sighed in disbelief. She couldn't expect better from Bela. If she had an opportunity to look good to their mother, she'd certainly take it. "You're a traitor."

"I'm sorry," Bela apologized. "It was the right thing to do."

She walked away, ready to meet Alcina. She inhaled deeply, preparing for what was about to come. Differently from Daniela, Lady Dimitrescu wouldn't take it easy on her. She always received the worst scolds and punishments.

"What you did was extremely stupid, childish and irresponsible! And you still question my decision of leaving your sister in charge in my absence?!" Her mother yelled. "You're disgracing this family, Cassandra! Someday you'll get all of us killed."

Ouch. That one hurt.

"Okay, mother," she lowered her head. "I made a mistake. It won't happen again."

"It's not enough, Cassandra. You need to act like it! You need to grow some responsibilities. There will be a punishment this time."

"What is it?"

"I don't know yet. I'll think about it."

Deep down, Cassandra had no regrets. At least now her mother would feel better from her illness. She wouldn't have to fear losing her again. She wouldn't have to fear losing one more member of their family.

----------

Eastern Europe, Pub - November, 2021

I spent the last few hours in the village's pub, attempting to charm Elena, the cute bartender, into telling me more about that place, the Four Lords and Mother Miranda. I could tell she was lying, pretending to be ignorant to the truth. But I could see it in her blue eyes. They had the same shade of trauma and fear as mine. She probably witnessed things she wouldn't share with anyone, especially a foreigner.

"You can trust me, Elena," I softly reached for her hand. "I won't think you're crazy. I've been there too."

"D-Did you?" She bit her lower lip. "How?"

"I was born in this village in Spain. We lived in peace until..."

My line was interrupted by the pub's door being opened. Elena's eyes immediately stared at the figure that walked in. The woman was wearing black vests and a hood covering her head. If everything in that village was so normal, then what the hell was that? A late Halloween party?

She walked to the counter and sat right next to me. She didn't noticed me. In fact, if I'm being honest, she didn't notice anything around her. That lady was focused on one thing only - herself.

"Serve me," she ordered to Elena, as if she owned the place.

"You're always so nasty," Elena complained with an annoyed moan, while she turned around to grab a bottle of bourbon and a glass.

"Don't test me. I had a bad day."

Was that a threat? Was she seriously threatening the bartender in front of me?

"Hey," I interrupted. "Is that how you treat every person you come across?"

The woman finally looked at me. I noticed how she and Elena looked like. They could be related. Sisters maybe.

"Only the idiots," she answered, before drinking the entire glass in one sip.

"Apparently you come here often, treat people like shit and they still serve you like you're a VIP guest or something. You should at least treat them decently."

"Please, save your manners for somebody who cares."

She stood up, showing no intentions of paying for what she consumed. That annoyed me more than anything else. I stood up too, accidentally spilling my drink all over her dress.

"Oh! I'm sorry," I said sarcastically. "Or not. After all, you don't care. So it means I shouldn't bother having any manners around a douchebag like you."

"You are so dead!" She grabbed my wrist. Her hand was cold and firm. I could almost feel her nails digging into my skin. "Useless human-thing"

"Let me go, your creepy asshole."

"Cassandra!" Elena called. "Let her go, now!"

The woman was much taller than me. I looked up, gazing directly into her golden yellow eyes. They were familiar somehow. As well as the symbol tattooed on her forehead.

"I'm going to call Bela!" The bartender insisted.

Bela? The Dimitrescu daughter that interviewed me that afternoon? Why would she have anything to do with that?

"What?" Cassandra let out a small, sarcastic laugh. "Do you think I fear Bela?"

She let go of my wrist, pushing me with some strength. I held onto the counter to keep myself steady. The whole pub had stopped to look at us.

"Idiots. All of you!"

Cassandra stomped out of the place, leaving everyone paralyzed in shock. I turned back to Elena.

"I'm so sorry about that. Who is she anyways? Is she your sister or something?"

"Oh god, no!" She told. "That's Cassandra Dimitrescu. One of the Countess' daughters."

That was when I realized. I had just met 'C'. And we didn't have such a great start...

----------

Castle Dimitrescu, Cassandra's Bedroom - November, 2021

Hangover wasn't something vampire-like creatures should experience. However, Cassandra had emptied one of the secret stocks of booze her mother kept in the castle. And she hadn't had any blood yet. She refused to stay and have dinner with her family after the discussion in the previous day.

"Ughhhh," she moaned in bed. "I hope there's still some for me."

The rays of sunlight were entering through her windows, making her head hurt even harder. Some incompetent servant probably entered her bedroom and opened the curtains before she woke up.

"I'm surrounded by morons!"

She walked to the windows, ready to close the curtains, but then, something caught her attention. A short, dark haired woman wearing too much black leather right at the castle's entrance.

She recognized her immediately. The meaningless little human that dared to insult her at the pub. What was she doing in her territory? Why was she carrying her bags inside?

Cassandra didn't even bother getting changed. She rushed to the stairs to see it for herself.

"Welcome to Castle Dimitrescu, Gabriela," Mrs. Petrova helped the bitch in leather with her bags. "I'll show you your new accommodations."

The interview. Cassandra missed the interview while she was hunting that old man.

Her mother was right. She had made a big mistake and she had to find a way to fix it. Nobody dishonored her like that girl did and lived. Nobody.

She couldn't be impulsive. Not this time. She had to act carefully. They had to believe it was an accident.

"CASSANDRA!" Her mother's voice echoed through every corner of the castle again.

"Yes, mother?" She appeared calm and composed when she entered Lady Dimitrescu's chambers.

"You have a job. The punishment for your latest actions."

"Anything."

"Bela hired a new servant yesterday," Lady Dimitrescu told. "You'll be responsible for helping her to settle down, as well as showing her the new tasks. Do you understand?"

#resident evil village #cassandra dimitrescu #cassandra x f!oc #cassandra x oc #lady dimitrescu #alcina dimitrescu #resident evil fanfiction #follow me through the dark

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rpd-rookie · 4 years ago

Note

After all things he saw and been through, Leon could use some rest... So how about Leon x reader on vacation in some remote, distant place, phone turned off, Hannigan banned from contacting him over new assignments? I guess it would be perfect for post-Vendetta? I don't really care it it's going to be fluff, smut or whatever - I just want him to take his time off and simply enjoy his leave, wherever he'd go. ^_~

Author’s note: Sorry about the long wait. This OS actually became so long I decided to make it a 2 or 3 chapters long fanfic. Here’s the first prt. Hoping you’ll love it.

Warning: Angst, Mention of Alcoholism and Depression, Language, Mention of sex.

Information : Y/SN = your second name

Holidays - Leon S. Kennedy x Fem!Reader

A fresh marine breeze entered the room through the ajar French window, flapping the white muslin curtains like two small sails. It caressed his clammy naked body and a salty smell came to tickle his nose, reminding him a time when, as a kid, he used to go visit his grandparents in their small beach house in South Carolina, a time that was far gone but that he kept close to his heart. And so he sprawled on the mattress, a bit like a funny starfish, his blue eyes still shut, trying to linger in his memory and in his bed a little longer, at least until Hunnigan calls him to warn him not to be late to another umpteenth appointment with his DSO colleagues or the president. Only when he felt a delicate hand brush his hair away from his face, tucking it behind his ear like his mother used to do when he was a child, and finally met a pair of gorgeous (colour) eyes did he realise two things. One, Hunnigan won’t call this morning. Two, holidays were awesome.

Part 1: THE MEETING

Scott Rossi. That was the name he had given when he had registered in this remote cottage-like hotel three days ago on the north coasts of Nova Scotia. Nothing original and probably too easy to guess – it was his father’s first name and his mother last name after all. A fake identity he had judged necessary to disappear from the DSO’s radar for a little while. He needed to be left alone. For his wellness and his sanity even though a part of him knew drinking his sorrow away wasn’t what was best for that so-called wellness he wanted back. But it was the only solution he had found to forget. Forget about New York. Forget about the car bombing in DC. Forget about that bullet he put in President Benford’s head. Forget about everything that had led him here, drinking in this bar. But the road to forgetting was hard and the escape too momentary. And the more whisky he poured in his glass to more he seemed to drown in his bottomless pit of pain and depression. “Tough day or you’re just not confident in your masculinity?” Usually, Leon would have ignored such a nosy question, the same way he would have ignored another over-curious judgy person, with characteristic stoicism. But there was something in that question, something in that voice - though he couldn’t pinpoint what - that made him look up from the amber liquid in his glass. Perhaps was it the strangeness of that question. Or perhaps was it that voice, confident and full of nerve, reminding Leon of old times, old friends, bold young agents and femme fatales. Or perhaps, was it simply because she was a woman and God knew how much Leon couldn’t ignore one, wasted or not. She was a (hair colour) with piercing (colour) eyes, wearing a long marine blue coat over a nice black dress. Elegant. Self-assured. Pretty. Very pretty … Actually too pretty to hang out in some lousy hotel bar like the one she was in right now. A city girl maybe. “Excuse me?” “The whisky. My father used to say it’s a drink for fags.” Leon’s eyes widened briefly and she added, unsettled by his surprise as if she had expected it. “But then again, my father was an asshole who didn’t know shit about anything. So tough day, huh?” Leon snickered and remained surprisingly troubled for a few second. Needless to say, he wasn’t used being caught off guard like that. “More like tough life” He finally corrected. She nodded and, unable to resist curiosity – even though she had the impression the man was certainly not the kind to easily open up to strangers - quickly went to sit closer to him bringing her tequila along with her. “I’m all ears.” “I don’t need a therapy.” His tone was curt and harsh and he took a sip of whisky looking away from her, thinking she would get the message and leave him to finish his fancy bottle of Glenfiddich in peace. But she did not move and simply waited, her observing eyes set on him as if she was trying to read his mind or something. He glanced towards her only to see her sigh and take off her coat like an insect would shed their skin, offering Leon the sight of her beautiful wasp-like body covered in black silk, a sight that didn’t leave him indifferent. After all, she had an exquisite silhouette. Curvy with a narrow waist that her skin-tight black dress could bring out with ease. “Let me guess, after fifteen years of marriage, your wife cheated on you with your best friend because you were the kind of man who lived for his job instead of his family and now he’s taking care of your kids in your own house and they call him daddy.” “Couldn’t be moooore wrong.” He had a quick laugh, not because he thought her soap opera-like story was amusing but because he actually never imagined someone would picture him married with kids. Did he look the type? He didn’t think so. “Maybe. But at least now I know you’re not married.” Leon glanced at her again, astonished by her audacity. No one had ever flirted with him that way. Though he wasn’t even sure she was flirting. “Are you sweet-talking me or something?” She shrugged her

shoulders leaving the place for any sort of answer and Leon said “You know, you could have just look at my hand.” “I did actually but I just wanted to make sure.” She had a quick seductive smile and smoothly bent towards Leon who peeped at her décolletage for a second before focusing on his drink again. “By the way, is shooting a hobby or part of your job?” Leon froze, his glass half way between the counter and his lips and stared at her. “How …” “The calluses on your fingertips. Only a shooter has that kind of hands.” He couldn’t help but be impressed and after drinking his whisky in one go, he naturally sat up straight on his stool to scrutinize her, suddenly more that interested in that mysterious girl. “You’re observant.” “Y/N actually.” She extended her hand and, after a short hesitation, he shook it with an amused smile, undeniably seduced by that cheeky attitude that suited her so well. Her skin was so soft and cold against his, he instinctively kept her hand in his to warm it up. A lovely gesture yet certainly a bit inappropriate. Either way, the girl said nothing and let him hold her hand. “I’m L… Scott. I’m Scott” He finally replied as he let go of her hand, slightly uncomfortable. “ Fine, then I’m Y/SN.” Leon frowned, his face showing a mix of confusion and amusement. “You just said your name was Y/N.” “Yeah but that was before you chose to lie.” She grimaced, emptied her shot of tequila and called the waiter with a small hand gesture to ask for a refill, not even slightly disappointed in Leon for lying. “I didn’t lie.” Not really. She put down her hand as she realised the barman, who was flirting with a man at the end of the counter, would not notice her. “Of course you did. But I’ll allow it. I guess that’s just another silly way to cope with your tough life for a night. Though, it seems it’s as useless as alcohol” She took Leon’s glass and emptied it without looking away from the agent. “I’m trying to enjoy my holidays at the fullest.” He confessed and that was the truth. “Is it working?” She placed the glass, now stained with her lipstick, in front of him and he shrugged, showing her the bottle of alcohol by his side before pouring himself another drink. “No, not really.” “Thought so.”

She took the whisky again, this time from Leon’s hand but he did not protest. He didn’t care about that damn liquor. He could definitely afford another bottle. The company however … He knew he would never find another girl like the one sitting next to him. “So, Y/N. What are you doing here?” He asked, his eyes fixed upon her face. “Who’s Y/N?” She replied with a cheeky wink and Leon smiled and chuckled. It hadn’t done that in a while. “Are we really gonna play this lie the whole night?” Part of him hoped so. There was something endearing and refreshing in that little game, the same way there was something terribly irresistible in that girl. “You wanna spend the whole night with me? Who told you I was that kind of girl?” She harrumphed, hand over her heart like an amazingly lame actress, an overly dramatic gesture that was certainly intended. “You’re impossible.” Leon confessed but there was no hint of criticism or annoyance, quite the opposite. He was actually having fun drinking here with that girl he didn’t know. “No. I’m just a girl pretending to be someone she’s not – aka Y/SN - talking to a man named Scott who just lost his wife and kids to his best friend.” “Not just his wife and kids, his dog too. A beagle. Poppy.” She laughed, getting the tiny nod to John Wick and he looked glad that she did. “And what’s Y/SN’s backstory?” “I found yours. You could at least found mine.” She retorted and let him think. And for a second, as she stared at him scratching his stubble, finding him insanely handsome, she realised he hadn’t touch his drink in a small while. Good. “Y/SN is a college student with unresolved daddy issues trying to get the attention of a man possibly twice her age to cope with the fear of abandonment his father left her with when he left her and her mom.” “Was Dad an alcoholic?” She declared on purpose, just to see if the word would trigger his desire to drink. It incredibly did not. “Might explain why you’re so interested in a loser like me.”

She stayed the whole night with him. Talking. Playing. Flirting in ways only she could do. Creating an undeniable connection, a sharp sexual tension that only a man deprived of all senses would have missed. She gave him a signal (if not more) with her eyes, called him with her lips. And he responded with a similar technique, a similar enthusiasm. And at the end of the night, when she got up from her stool and kissed him goodbye, right at the corner of his lips, she realised she could potentially spend the hottest night of her life if she chose to lead him in her room. After all, it was no secret for either of them. She wanted to fuck him and he wanted to fuck her. But a part of her decided to play hard to get, decided that this night would be a sweet game, a foreplay in their roleplay. And luckily for her, he was a player. Just like her.

#Leon Kennedy #leon s kennedy #fanfic #request #resident evil #leon kennedy x reader

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jpegjade · 4 years ago

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Physical Therapy - Ch. 1 (Spencer)

WELCOME TO PHYSICAL THERAPY!! in honor of this bish starting physical therapy in real life (and missing it bc i can’t drive and my mom and i’s schedules not being synched on google calendar all the time) i’ve decided to write a fic about it. it will be a little series with a goal (yes, an end game) and it’ll be cute. some of it is based on actual things that happen and some is literally just the story. ENJOY.

gender: neutral

tw: nothing that i can think of

genre: fluff | angst

Description: After getting shot in the leg, spencer goes through physical therapy before he can get back in the field completely. What happens when he starts to fall for his physical therapy assistant?

__________________

Two honks at 6am meant that it was time for Spencer to get going. Derek was downstairs, in the car, waiting on boy wonder to crutch his way out of the apartment complex. Derek wasn’t sure how to feel about this trip considering he missed his early morning run for this but he knew how nervous Spencer was for his evaluation today so he didn’t mind as much as he could have minded.

Spencer was patiently waiting in a pair of very short shorts, mismatched socks, and running shoes. He threw on a t-shirt and looked in the mirror, noting how tired he looked. He hadn’t been sleeping well lately for some reason but he couldn’t be sure why. He combed out his hair one more time before he and his crutches headed to the elevators.

“Ready, kid?” Derek said, opening the front door for Spencer like a world class chauffeur would if Spencer was a celebrity.

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” Spencer mumbled.

In truth, Spencer was more than ready to get started on his physical therapy journey. He wanted to get back in the field full time, adrenaline pumping, connecting with victims, walking again. He didn’t mind the assisted mobility but it was hard for him to know that the best he could do sometimes was stay back in the office or hang out in Garcia’s batcave.

The car ride was filled with a comfortable silence between the two men. Derek was thinking about how he could make up his missed morning run by doing another type of high cardio workout while Spencer was just trying to figure out why it had to be him. He wouldn’t wish the frustration of his recovery process on anyone else on the team but the frustration of the recovery process just got to him on some days. Today was one of those days.

Derek pulled up to the physical therapy clinic sooner than Spencer hoped. Part of that was because Derek was a very fast driver while the other part was because Spencer wasn’t paying attention for most of the drive.

“You owe me one.” Derek said, completely joking. Well… Partially. That morning run was what kept him awake during the day, energizing him for work.

“Do you want to come in?” Spencer said, looking down at his hands in his lap.

Spencer’s hands were tapping his leg as he awaited Derek’s answer. He was nothing short of a nervous wreck on the inside. All he could think about was how much pain he would be in once the evaluation was over and the physical therapist had finished poking and prodding at his knee. He hated to think that it would be worse than everything else going on. Plus he still had to go to work today.

“Sure, kid.” Derek said.

Derek wasn’t going to sit in the car and do nothing the whole time so he might as well support his friend.

Climbing out of the car, the boys slowly made it to the sliding glass doors of the physical therapy clinic. Much to Spencer’s surprise, it was nothing like he originally imagined it to be. Some part of him thought it would somewhat resemble the clinic where his mother resided but it was completely different. There were floor to ceiling walls for over half of the first floor building. High tech equipment was stationed everywhere from anti gravity treadmills to hand bike motors, medicine balls and so much more. Spencer stood in the doorway, leaning on his crutches, while he took everything in. There was so much light in the air, it was almost like the feeling of recovery was airy and not meant to bog him down. This was a strange feeling for him to comprehend...

“You coming, pretty boy?” Derek called, taking a break from chatting with the pretty receptionist.

Spencer and his crutches walked over to the front desk and grabbed the paperwork that covered how much pain he was in today. He filled it out quickly, hoping to get everything over with sooner than later. He was already here so he might as well just finish everything quickly so he could get out of the place.

When he finished writing everything down, he returned the paperwork to the receptionist who slipped him a piece of paper and pointed to Derek. Spencer already knew it was the receptionist’s personal phone number and he didn’t even need to look at the paper. Sitting down, Spencer handed Derek to a very confused Derek before it hit him what it was. Derek winked at the receptionist, who blushed before answering the phone.

“Spencer?” A voice called his name shortly after he sat down.

It was nice to know that here, he didn’t have to be a doctor. He was just another person healing. He didn’t have to be smart, he could just exist.

“Good luck.” Derek said, noticing that Spencer’s hand was shaking in the slightest bit.

“My name is Nora and I will be your lead physical therapist.” The woman said, walking Spencer to a vacant padded table. It reminded Spencer of the types of tables you lay on when you get a massage.

He only got a massage once when Garcia got stood up on a couples’ massage date. He spent half of his part of the massage giving the masseuse facts about how their job could actually give them an infection from the amount of germs in the air and on the table. His delivery of facts caused the room to be incredibly uncomfortable and bleach the table very thoroughly. By the time he and the masseuse finished, only 5 minutes were left in the massage and Garcia was left horrified and amused at the same time.

“Don’t worry. We bleach the tables every time someone finishes a session.” Nora said, noticing the look on Spencer’s face. Spencer visibly relaxed and sat on the table.

“So, Spencer, tell me a little bit about yourself.” Nora followed up, pulling up a backless roller chair.

“Well, I was on a case and the unsub, unknown subject, shot at a dad but it ended up hitting me in the leg instead and…” Spencer paused, looking at Nora’s amused face.

“No, I mean tell me about you. Your hobbies, what you do for fun, things like that. I need to do a complete profile for you so I know how your quality of life has been affected and which exercises you can do at home so we aren’t pushing too fast.” Nora smiled at Spencer.

“I work.” Spencer said in a matter-of-fact tone. He didn’t really have anything else to say.

“Okay. So you’re a workaholic.” Nora wrote. She was about to ask a new question when you came quickly walking to Nora.

Spencer was left dumbfounded. There seemed to be a halo of light radiating around you, making you glow. He knew it was the sun finally rising but his brain short circuited as he continued to gaze at you.

“Hey Nora?” You said, looking down at your boss. “Mrs. Gillespi wants to know why you haven’t come back to check her form. She doesn’t trust me because, her words here, I ‘look like a child who doesn’t know their left foot from the color orange.’”

“Sure. Here, you can take over Spencer’s evaluation.” She handed you her clipboard.

You looked at the detailed notes on the paper and then up at Spencer, who looked like one of the youngest people here.

“It’s not often we get cute guys in this place. Other than Kyle. But Kyle’s an asshole who could almost be my dad.” You blurted, not realizing you said it outloud as soon as Nora left.

You noticed that he started blushing and looking at his converse and you realized that you said something. You usually spoke your thoughts out loud but the people you worked with were used to it so no one bothered to say anything.

“What?” You asked, confused.

“You called me cute.” Spencer said. “Which is fine. I don’t understand the appeal but I do believe that your blurting of what you perceive as a fact is a coping mechanism. It can also be tied to ADHD, which is a common mental disorder that causes your brain to impulsively say things.” Spencer paused, looking at your face.

“What?” You asked, again, confused.

“I’m not saying you have ADHD. I’m a doctor but not that kind of doctor. Although I could get another Ph. D. Prove my father wrong. And…” Spencer realized he was rambling.

“Cute and a talker.” You said, writing that down.

You wrote something down on the paper that Spencer couldn’t see but he was curious about.

“Let’s check out that leg.” You said, pulling out an instrument that looked like a compass.

You asked Spencer to move his knee certain ways and it wasn’t as bad as Spencer thought. You were gentle, soft even. Your hands were delicate and you ended the session massaging his leg and smiling at him.

“You were a good patient today, doctor Spencer.” You said, smiling at him.

Spencer blushed, unable to meet your eyes.

“You… I mean… I enjoyed our session.” Spencer said. “Which I don’t normally enjoy. Not that I’ve been shot before. Or had physical therapy. Or been here. Or even worked out really.”

“You’re funny, doc.” You smiled. “Your next appointment is Tuesday of next week according to the schedule so I guess I’ll see you then. I can’t wait.”

Spencer stared at you as he wondered why you were so excited.

“Why?” Spencer asked.

“It’s not every day I get the case for a cute guy who is smart and awkward. It’s almost like the heavens have answered my hopes and prayers.” You joked, looking up at the ceiling and putting your hand on your heart.

“I believe in science.” Spencer stated, grabbing his crutches.

“A man of science. Does it get any better? What’s your star sign?” You joked.

“Scorpio.” Spencer stated.

“Oop. All the scorpios I know have been some hoes. You better not be a hoe, doc.”

“I’m definitely not a gardening tool, if that’s what you’re referring to. Otherwise, I’d like to thing my lack of dating skills doesn’t qualify as being a… hoe? Although, I don’t believe in the use of the word to describe someone who enjoys spending time with multiple people. I’d like to think the use of the word is meant in jest and fun for a term of endearment.” Spencer stood up, balancing on his crutches.

“I’ll be the judge of that.” You said, walking slowly with Spencer to the front desk.

“What’s your name?” Spencer asked, turning to you. He realized that he never got your name.

“Y/n.” You smiled.

The clouds must have parted again because as soon as you turned to walk away from him, towards Nora, you were covered in another halo. And just like that, you were gone again.

_____________________

Future tag list:

@ellvswriting @sageandberries-png @l0ve-0f-my-life @rexorangecouny @kennedywxlsh

Want to be added? Tell me!

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #cm

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freya-the-yandere · 4 years ago

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💘Self Help Tips for Yanderes💘

Yandere blogs are used to vent and cope with yandere related feelings such as jealousy, obsessiveness, possessiveness and any kind of insecurity and pain in our relationships (whether that be romantic or platonic). If you’re unsure of what specifically to do with your blog or you just need something extra to help, please read through this post.

1. Drink plenty of water. This won’t help the bigger problem but it is important to remember. Dehydration can cause headaches, dizziness, forgetfulness and a lack of energy. All of these symptoms can add up and lead to you getting easily overwhelmed and stressed. If you’re going to face your problems and work through things, you first need to have some energy and focus. You can't work through anything if you’re getting irritated by everything because you’re too tired and you keep forgetting important things throughout the day. It can be tricky for a lot of people with mental health issues to remember to drink water. The easiest way to get this into your routine is to carry around a full water bottle and keep taking sips of it very now and then. This way, you have the water on hand, ready to drink at all times instead of you trying really hard to remember to take a break to go get the water in the first place.

2. Learn to deal with your feelings IRL. The reason we’re here is to deal with our feelings that we know are unhealthy. While a blog can help, we won’t always have it on hand to use and it’s unhealthy to focus too much time on social media. You can't build a better life and better relationships if you blog all the time. Finding ways to deal with your feelings in everyday life whilst not online will stop you solely relying on your blog. Here are some articles about dealing with jealousy: x x and here’s some for obsessing: x x .

3. Figure out your feelings. The most obvious way to figure out what you’re feeling and why you’re feeling that is to attend talking therapy. If you’re able to do this, please do. If you’re unable, some other ways are listening to music, especially music with yandere themes. Sometimes, you’ll listen to a song and the lyrics make a lot of sense to you and you really relate to them, which allows you to hear your feelings put into words. This can also be the case with fictional characters. Yandere as a trope is commonly seen in anime and sometimes video games, occasionally in mainstream TV shows and movies. If you’re able to find a yandere character you relate to, that can help you understand yourself better because the character is usually able to word their feelings and express them openly. If you relate to their quotes and find yourself wishing you could do what they do then that helps to create a visual image and words to describe how you feel. Music and characters can express what you’re going through to your loved ones when you can't. If a friend notices you’re not doing well but you can't put into words what’s wrong or you’re not sure how to word it softly enough, explain that you feel like the character you relate to or send them a song with lyrics that explain things. For yandere songs, you can check this playlist. For yandere characters, some anime with them are: Future Diary, Date A Live, When They Cry, Shiki, Inu x Boku SS, No.6, Happy Sugar Life, Baka and Test, Shuffle!, And You Thought There Is Never a Girl Online?, A Boring World Where The Concept Of Dirty Jokes Doesn’t Exist, Canaan. Some video games: Ib, Yanderella, Doki Doki Literature Club, Shihori Escape, Mix Ore, Super Danganronpa 2, Corpse Party, Mikoto Nikki. Some TV Shows: You (Netflix), Killing Eve (BBC iPlayer), The End of the F**king World Season 2 (Netflix and More4). If you’re worried about possible triggers or upsetting content, please look up the IMDB page for the anime and TV shows and go to the parents guide. It will have all the details of the more mature content it contains like what kind of violence it may have, if there’s any drugs or alcohol, if there’s bad language etc. For video games, some will have warnings when you download them to check first. If not, try looking at the wiki page for the game, the pages usually warn you if there’s spoilers ahead.

4. Find creative ways to vent. This is where your blog can come in. Expressing your emotions through creative means allows you a safe and healthy way to express yourself. You can do this by writing stories (this can be fan fiction), writing poetry or lyrics, making artwork (drawings, paintings, sculptures, scrapbooking) and making moodboards. A lot of yandere blogs post their creations as part of their coping and to share with the rest of the community. Writing stories can allow you to type out all the scenarios that you have daydreamed about, anything you wish you could do with your crush or any kind of negative things you’ve felt towards people. You can write about a yandere character breaking up a couple because the character is in love with one of them, you can write about a yandere kidnapping their crush, you can write about a yandere saying everything to their partner that you can't say to yours. Poetry and lyrics writing can also involve you writing things that you wish you could say or do out and can allow you to put your feelings into words if you’re struggling to. There are many Tumblr blogs that post drawing of yandere characters (from shows, games and their own OCs). I recommend these blogs: @reina-mari, @aosora444, @nobutatan, @ruhianna, @ibblescribbles. Making a scrapbook and filling it with pictures of all the things you love can be a nice reminder of all the good things to keep you going. Including the people you love is good (provided you use pictures that they consented to) but also be sure to include things you love about yourself, hobbies you have, happy memories, your goals etc. Making sure you feel complete on your own is important for good mental health and can minimise your insecurities in relationships. Moodboards can be a good way to express feelings and scenarios that you have daydreamed about and shows it in a visual way. You can either put 9 square images together, going 3 by 3 on a Tumblr post or make a collage of images to post, using an editor app. For mobile, I recommend picsart for photo editing. You can make collages with BeFunky and use it to edit photos on your computer. There’s also pizap.com and photomosh.com. You can find aesthetic images on Pinterest and weheartit but try to avoid artwork because it’s likely to be stolen. If you find artwork you want to use, search up the artist first. You can do this by checking the image for a watermark of the artist name and then searching it up to find their social media accounts. If there isn't one, take the picture to google image search and if that fails, try the same thing on tineye.com. Once you've found the accounts, message the artists for permission and if they let you use it, add credit on the post by linking the original post with the artwork or write “art credit to (insert artist name on account)”.

💘If you have any other tips you’d like to add or recommendations for blogs, shows, games etc. then please feel free to add on.💘

#yandere #yanderecore #yandere community #mental health #self help #mine

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mlovesstories · 4 years ago

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His Thoughts on Therapy 3

Words: 2300ish I think.

Warnings: violence, mention of mom’s death, glass eye, cussing

Summary: Dean and YN recover in their own ways.

Masterlist of Masterlists

After Sam started screaming, realizing Dean was so hurt, YN was on the phone with 911, she looked down at the woman bleeding out on the ground.

“Mom?”

Before they knew what had happened, YN was pulled away from kicking and punching her mom by a police officer. Dean was taken away in an ambulance. YN reached for Sam and wrapped her arms around him, holding him tightly.

“She hurt Dee!” YN wailed into his shirt. Sam tried to hold back his own tears, but he knew he needed to drive to the hospital.

“I know. Let’s go.”

“She stabbed his EYE, Sam!”

“I know.” Sam took a deep breath.

“Sam.” Dean stirred and reached for him the next day.

His brother woke up from the chair next to the bed.

“What happened?”

“YN was sleeping in the guest room when she heard your screaming. She found someone beating you up.”

Dean confusedly tried to take in the information.

“Huh?”

“There is something you need to know,” Sam winced. “It was YN’s mom. She stabbed your eye. It’s gone, Dean.”

“Wait, what?” Dean reached up to touch his eye.

“Don’t, there is a bandage, and it’s healing.”

Dean gasped. He started crying.

“I know.” Sam ran a hand through his hair.

“What else?”

“She stabbed you in your gut, but they were able to stop the bleeding. Fiona, YN’s mom, beat you up pretty good too. Concussion, ribs. But YN killed her with your bedroom lamp…”

“She defended me against her own mom?” Dean tried to readjust in the bed but groaned when he felt all of the bandages. “Where is she?

“She felt really bad about how her mom treated you, so she’s hiding, as she stated in her text to me.”

“Call her for me.” Dean reached out to Sam for his phone.

Sam dialed the number, and YN picked up immediately.

“Sam? How is he?”

“Hey, Tissues,” Dean grinned.

“DEAN!” She smiled to herself. “I’ll be right there,” she was about to hang up when he stopped her.

“Wait. I heard you were hiding.”

“No…” she tried to cover it up.

“Promise me something. Go see Dr. Sky.”

“Dean,” she whined again.

“Go, or I will pummel you when I feel better. You know I will.”

She huffed.

“Try me.” Dean groaned. “And don’t dote over me. I’ll be fine.”

“I’m so sorry Dean. I didn’t know she was in town. She should have hurt me.” YN rambled.

“You have five seconds to shut up and hang up. Then you’re going to make an appointment with Sky. Got it?”

“Fine, Winchester.”

“I need to go to sleep now. Bye, T.” He hung up with her and closed his eyelids in frustration. “She blames herself.”

“You can sort that out later. Right now we have other issues.” Sam pointed to his injuries.

Over the next few days, Sam saw Dean become sad, angry, and frustrated. The older brother threw things, screamed and tried to attack the doctor. He was currently strapped down to the bed.

“Sammy, why?”

“Because you got hurt.”

“No, not this,” he looked to the tie downs. “I mean why did this happen?”

“I don’t know, Dean. I really don’t.”

“I need to talk with Sky”

“I called her. She made availability for you and YN later today over video chat.”

“Good, because they said I couldn’t get out of these things for a while.”

“You punched the staff, Dean.”

“I lost my eye, dammit!”

“Okay, okay,” Sam put a hand up. “You’re right. Look, they said if you were good they would let you go in an hour. Just wait it out.”

As the nurses were taking the straps off apprehensively, YN walked in with her laptop.

“Dean!” She gasped at his appearance.

“Tissues,” he whispered. “You got hurt too,” Dean realized.

“I’m fine, just a few scrapes.”

“Ahem,” Sam glared at her. “No lying.”

“Fine, I have a cracked rib, but I’m fine. We have an appointment with Dr. Sky in a few minutes. You ready?” She watched curiously as the staff finished with the straps.

“Yeah. Sam, help me sit up.”

Sam stood and felt Dean’s weight on his shoulders. He grunted, and Dean sat straighter. He pressed the button for his bed to be in a reclining position.

“Mr. Winchester,” a nurse caught his attention. “If you get physical again with our staff,” she started.

“Lady, I didn’t even realize what I was doing, okay? I just lost parts of my body, and I was involved with someone dying, so excuse me if I’m a little confused.”

“Dean, it’s okay.” YN stood between him and the nurse. “He has been through a lot in the last 24 hours, I’m sure you would do the same if you watched someone die as well as lose your eye. Mister Winchester will be on his best behavior, right?” YN narrowed her eyes at the eldest brother.

“Yes, ma’am,” he nodded, taking a deep breath.

“We have a therapy session, can you excuse me, please?”

YN opened the laptop and turned on the video chat. Sam excused himself for privacy.

“Hello, you two.” Dr. Sky smiled. “I’m so glad you two are okay.”

Dean and YN frowned.

“So, who wants to start?”

Knowing that there was a lot to unpack, she let them lead the conversation and work through what they felt were the important parts.

“How are you feeling about all that?”

“I’m honestly afraid. Dean will self-combust if he doesn’t put his effort into something after we get out of here. I think you’re going to need some major self-care, Dee.”

“No, I won’t. I just need to get out of this-“ he shot up out of bed and was about to attack YN for calling him out when he winced.

“I will tie you back down to this bed myself if I have to. You aren’t the only one who has had those!” She looked from the straps in the corner back to Dean.

“Sorry.”

“I think coping skills are in order.” Doctor Sky said gently. “Dean, work with the hospital staff and those around you to see what you can do to relax. Maybe use a favorite hobby or an object to calm you down.”

“What, like a stuffed animal,” he rolled his eyes.

“Dean!” YN gasped.

“Okay, you two. Work on finding some coping skills. You will need them. Call me if you need anything.”

YN sighed and shut the laptop. Dean leaned back against his bed.

“T,” he started.

“What, Dean?” YN exacerbated.

“Take the other bed over there. Sleep.”

“I’m okay.”

“YN…” he whined at her. “I know you have probably been up for hours. We went through a lot, just go.”

YN gave in and plopped herself down on the extra bed.

“Sleep.” Dean told her.

“I’m sorry, Dean. I didn’t mean to get you hurt…”

“Oh, don’t start that. You know it’s not your fault. Go to sleep.”

“Fine.”

“Will you stop rolling your eyes? I can see you with the eyes in the back of my head.”

The two slept while Sam went to the shop and check on things.

A few hours later, YN stirred.

She heard Dean roll over.

“So, when are you going to tell me why your mom tried to hurt me?” He chuckled but coughed.

“Dean…”

“Come on, I can take it. My life sucked sometimes too.”

“Did your mom beat your ass until it was black and blue? Did your dad leave you because your mom was a psychopath? Did she make your brother disappear and possibly kill him too?”

“Woah, woah. Hey, it’s okay.”

“She’s always been obsessed with stuff. She must’ve seen you as a threat. I don’t know how she found me.” YN sat up on the hospital bed. “I need to go to work. I’ve already taken too much time off.”

“You have sick days, you ass.” He rolled his eyes.

“I want to save those for emergencies.”

“We were both attacked… BY YOUR MOM, YN.”

“I know. Look, I gotta go-”

“I’m not letting Sam clock you in today. Lie down. In fact, come over here.” He readjusted. Grunting, she slowly stood and walked to face him.

“What, warden?”

“Come here,” he moved his arm so that she could sit on the edge of his bed. “Go see Sky,” he whispered as she sat down. “I can’t see you hurting. Please.”

“We saw her-“

“We did, but you will not decline. Promise me.”

“Dean.”

“Yeah, well, you just killed your mom to save me. Make an appointment or I will.”

“Fine.”

A week later, YN begrudgingly showed up to Doctor Sky’s office. Injuries still visible. She wore a hat and a scarf.

“Hi, YN,” the doctor looked her over.

“Hi.”

“How’s Dean?”

YN shrugged.

“He’s better.”

“How are you?”

“I’m okay. Been through hell.”

“You have.” Sky agreed.

YN sat quietly during their session only answering in short fragments.

Dean went home to recover. The medical team had to put in a glass eye since his eye could not be recovered. He spent a little time at the shop working on cars, but he was now making more of the office-type decisions. When he was at home, he sulked.

“I haven’t been buying you beer, and yet you have one in your hand…” Sam walked into the room and crashed next to his brother on the couch.

“Excuse me for dealing with my issues…”

“Give it,” Sam motioned.

“No.”

“You’re not dealing with it. You’re drinking.”

“Whatever, Sam.”

Sam knew Dean’s weaknesses, so he reached for it out of Dean’s like of sight.

“DAMMIT, SAM!”

“You don’t get to wallow. I will call YN and have her whip you into shape if I have to.”

“Yeah, right. Give it back.”

Sam dumped the drink down the sink.

“SAM!” Dean tried to stand but lost his balance and fell back on the couch.

“No, you don’t get to throw your life away.”

Sam pulled out his phone and called YN.

“He’s being an ass. Can you come over?”

Sam slammed his phone down on the counter and got a soda out of the fridge.

“Here. Drink this.”

Dean caught the can. He rolled his eyes.

“WHAT IN THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?” YN stomped into their house.

“Not you too…” Dean rolled his eyes.

“Getting drunk again?”

“Nah.”

“Right…Dean, I went to Sky’s office the other day. She said you haven’t attended in a bit.”

“So?”

“So, we’re having a session. Right now.” YN pulled out her laptop and opened it.

“No!” He tried to grab at it, but he twinged.

“Hi, Sky!” YN waved.

“Oh! Both of you today!” Doctor Sky smiled. Her face dropped when she saw Dean’s expression. “Dean, you okay?”

“I’m forcing him to talk to you because he is being a piece of shi-“

“Woah! No insults in my sessions.”

“Sorry,” YN sighed.

“It’s been brought to my attention that you’ve not been using your coping skills.” Doctor Sky stated. “You either, YN.”

“What?” They both exclaimed.

“Sam let me know that Dean has been drinking a lot more, and YN has been choosing to binge Netflix instead of going running and to the gym like we agreed.”

“I’m fine, doc. I’ve been doing yoga on my TV.”

“And you, Winchester?” Sky shifted her gaze to the man.

“This is stupid.” Dean shrugged.

“My job is to help you. How can I help you?” Sky asked without judgement.

“Doc…” Dean rolled his eyes.

“You’re the one paying me, I suppose.”

“I’ve been through the shit.”

“You would be correct.” The therapist nodded.

“I can’t just listen to music or work out, it’s not that easy!”

“Dean.” YN put a hand up. “I think we just need to stay in check.”

“You killed your mom, YN. You’ll have to stay in check. And Dean, you can’t turn to the old habits. You know that.”

“You know what, never mind,” Dean tried to move the laptop off of his lap and stand, but he once again could not handle his own weight.

“Your recovery is ultimately up to you, Winchester.” Sky stated evenly.

“Yeah, yeah.” He sighed. “You’re not my mom, Sky. Don’t try to be-”

“DEAN!” YN gasped.

“Dean.” Their therapist calmed her clients.

“I’m sorry, Sky. I didn’t mean it.”

“You’re angry. I get it. Use the anger for good. Have you been going back to the shop?”

“I’m useless, doc. My eye is gone, my leg is messed up.”

“So what are you gonna do about it?” Sky narrowed her eyes at him.

“No reverse psychology shit, doc. Come on.”

“It’s my job. Talk it out.”

“I could go back to the shop more. I guess I could be a floater.”

“I can help you round the shop, Dean.”

“No, it’s okay. I need to do this on my own.”

“Wait, Dean.”

Sky talked with the two about being graceful with each other and letting each other help in the shop. Dean agreed to YN guiding him back into his role at Winchester Auto. YN could tell that Dean was upset.

“Bye, Sky!” YN waved to the camera. She closed the laptop. “Talk to me.” YN turned to face Dean.

“Leave it alone, T.”

@akshi8278

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#supernatural #mlovesstorieshisthoughtsontherapy #mlovesstories #mlovesstoriesau #dean x reader!platonic #sam x reader!platonic

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maaji-maji-majima · 4 years ago

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some kissing hcs for Majima?(if u can make it nsfw)

So I'm in a weird place with this. I don't want to leave you unanswered but I know you won't like the answer that I give. It has been a long time since I was active on tumblr and I'm not sure when along the timeline headcanon became synonymous with fanfiction. I appreciate fanfiction authors for their creativity, but I am not one myself. I use headcanon in the older definition of "this isn't in the source material, but it is true in my brain". They are either random things my half asleep mind thought of while walking home from work or a character analysis. At the same token your ask had crawled into my brainmeats and won't leave. So again, I apologize that this most definitely is not what you're looking for, but I hope someone out there finds this to be an interesting read.

Without further introduction, here is a character analysis of our favorite pansexual, gender fluid, emotionally stunted goblin in regards to relationships and why the he desperately needs therapy as brought to you by a different pansexual, gender fluid, emotionally stunted goblin who got therapy but probably needs more.

Trigger warnings: Abuse, self harm, mental disorders, poor coping strategies, unhealthy relationships, random tense changes, not fanfiction

Spoilers for the whole franchise, but very specifically for 0, K1, and 5.

Abuse does weird things to people's brains. In Yakuza 0 Majima has barely been out of the hole for a year. He might no longer be suffering the actual physical torture he had been subjected to the year prior, but he is still directly in the hands of his abusers and being watched every moment. He is still in a cage even if it doesn't look like one. He is depressed and likely suicidal, but doesn't follow through with those thoughts because he is determined to make sure Saejima has a home to come back to. He is willing to endure just about anything to allow Saejima a chance to exact that final moment of retribution because Saejima is the one who deserves it and Majima doesn't feel that there is any possibility for forgiveness. In all likelihood he hasn't sought out anyone for a hookup or paid company for an evening due to a combination of not feeling like he deserves anything that feels good and the fact that he's constantly being watched. The year in hole means he no longer really has a concept of privacy, but he's worried that getting close to someone, even for a few moments, could put them in danger if Sagawa or Shimano feels like holding something else over his head. It isn't worth accidentally dragging someone into his own personal hell. He no longer lives for the present, he is only living for that far-off future that he hopes isn't just a pipe dream.

Enter Makoto. At first she is a stand-in for Saejima's sister Yasuko, but it morphs rapidly from there. She is the light and kindness and hope that he hasn't seen in years and she's being dragged into his bullshit. He knows in his heart of hearts that she doesn't deserve what she is being forced into, so his mind snaps into the immediate and does everything he possibly can to save her. This is is the hill he wants to die on. Maybe, just maybe, he can end his miserable existence with a final act of good and he feels that Saejima might just be able to understand. But because he no longer has any relationships in his life that are not strictly professional or the abusers he cannot escape, he has little recollection of what a nuanced relationship or even friendship is any longer. Due to circumstance she is also the only person that he cannot keep at arm's length, no matter how desperately he tries. So he falls for her and falls hard. But in the end, after everything they go through he does the impossible. He lets her go. She has a life and a future, whereas he has neither of those. What would she do? Become his ane-san? Have some temporary happiness before she realizes she has a target on her back for the rest of her life? No. Majima believes she deserves so much more than that even though it hurts him deeply. What is one more hurt on top of everything else? He's gotten extremely good at burying his pain.

Getting to Tokyo flips a switch in Majima's brain. Like many people with mental trauma who don't have access to therapy he falls into excess as a way of self medicating. He fits virtually everything on the hedonism checklist. Drinking? Yeah. Violence? Hell yeah! Promiscuity? Yeah, but I ain't judging. Drugs? Probably, even though it isn't explicitly stated in game. Everything from his shift in personality to his wardrobe has become, intentionally or not, a defense mechanism. He has escaped from all of his abusers except for Shimano and he refuses to allow anyone to gain that kind of power over him again.

It is a double edged sword, however. His depression and PTSD are running unchecked. In all likelihood he hasn't fallen hard on vices as a way to reclaim ownership off his own body. Instead it seems more probable that he is dissociating. After everything he has been through he doesn't care what happens to his body in the long run because it isn't actually his anymore. Risky behavior, which is practically Majima's middle name, is also frequently used as a passive form of self harm because the end result is either temporarily feeling better thanks to endorphins and adrenaline or permanently feeling better after embracing death. He could achieve a similar feeling by taking up jogging and chasing a runners high, but that takes more time and energy than chugging a handle of whiskey or goading some chump into throwing hands. Sadly even now admitting to mental problems by seeking help is fairly stigmatized in Japan and it was only worse in the early 90s. Can't have a problem if no one tells you it's there, right?

Then he meets Mirei. She's intense but not wild like Majima. At that moment in time she is everything he needs. Head strong, domineering, and very, very determined. She knows exactly what buttons to press to wrap him right around her finger. And he lets her take the reigns, lets her run his life because he realizes he was doing a terrible job on his own. Better her than Shimano, right? Doing something wrong results in the cold shoulder instead of a vicious beating, and doing something right leads to more than simply the relief of avoiding a beating. He decides that making her happy is enough to make him happy. Until suddenly it isn't. He never wanted to be a father, but even the idea that he could have been was enough to cause a fundamental shift in his entire outlook on life. He could have had someone to live for, instead of just survive for. But he had no say in the matter and didn't know until the decision had been made for him. When Mirei told him she had an abortion he snapped. He hit her. The one and only time he raised his hands against her. Disgusted with himself, and wounded by her decision, he left. If he was capable of that, he knew couldn't be the person she had been trying to mold him into. He realized he was nothing but a weight around her neck dragging her down. And so that day signals the end of their short marriage. He spends the next several decades drowning in guilt for his actions while still resenting her for her choice.

That leaves us with Kiryu. Poor, oblivious Kiryu. Majima's fixation is multifaceted but in no small part due to the fact that Kiryu is one of the few people strong enough to hurt him, but is the only one that doesn't want to. And Majima just doesn't understand. After everything, he only deserves to hurt, right? Saejima, Yasuko, Makoto, Mirei. Everyone who gets too close to him ends up worse for it, so why won't Kiryu and his sense of honor seek justice on their behalf? So he does everything he possibly can to wind up Kiryu enough to Pay Attention Damnit, Fight Me. But Kiryu's response is always just flustered awkwardness because he doesn't want like fighting, it's just a part of his job, like wearing a suit or answering a phone. To Kiryu fighting isn't a thing done because it's enjoyable, it's done because it has to be. But he's still the only one who doesn't flinch when Majima brandishes a knife inches from his face.

And then Kiryu is arrested and in jail for ten years. And ten years is a long time to build someone up onto a pedestal. Like only wanting to talk about the best of a person after they've died. The same thing happened with Saejima. Build them in his mind to what he wants or needs them to be since they are not there to actively correct it. The decade is pretty miserable, going through the motions and trying to not make waves with the bigwigs while terrifying the minions into obedience. When he hears Kiryu is being released it is like waking up again. He all but waits at the taxi stand at the entrance of Kamurocho on the day of Kiryu's release, all but vibrating with excitement. It's a fight he has been waiting on for a decade, too bad it was little more than a disappointment.

So Majima decides to bring him back up to spec in that very Majima flavored way. Small fights, big fights, surprise fights. Kiryu is still reluctant because he doesn't have a reason beyond Majima's dreamed up training program he doesn't actually want to be a part of. Of course this only leads Majima to do everything possible to get under Kiryu's skin, including sharing his personal vulnerabilities while disguising them as jokes just to cause fights, but Kiryu just kind of rolls with it which leads to confusion and frustration on both sides. After a while Majima starts to get into Kiryu's hobbies, like pocket circuit, ostensibly as another form of picking a fight. And he discovers he actually enjoys a lot of it. And they are both too dense and emotionally stunted to realize they're basically dating at this point. At multiple points Majima takes potentially lethal blows meant for Kiryu and the excuse that he is the only one allowed to kill Kiryu is very, very thin. He just can't quite admit out loud that he doesn't want to see Kiryu truly hurt because that's weakness and he is Not Weak (tm).

Shimano's death and Kiryu's departure from the clan come as a whirlwind that destroys him all over again. He's left directionless. So he leaves the Tojo in an attempt to find his own way in the world, for the first time in over twenty years.

I think I need to call it here for now. I know I've left out Saejima and Daigo, among others, but I've been working on this for days and my progress has been eaten twice and I just don't have the energy to keep going right at this time. Maybe some day in the future I'll find the time and energy to write out the rest for all the other games.

tl;dr What Majima wants and what he needs are two different things. He wants to fightfuck, but he needs to be bear hugged into submission so that he can have that mental breakdown he's been carefully bottling up for over thirty years. He needs a good, ugly cry. And therapy. Lots and lots of therapy.

#ask #character analysis #not fanfiction #yakuza games #yakuza headcanons #majima character analysis #rgg #rgg games #majima #majima goro #broken people doing broken things

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