#how dare you anon I have hurt myself writing this

[frvnkcastles]

hii, i hope you're having an amazing day :)

as a mentally ill peep myself, i love love your writing! plus you write frank's character so well and there are some pieces that i keep re-reading for comfort 🫶

if possible, i'd like to ask if you could write something where the reader has a really messed up relationship with her parents? like she loves them but has arguments with them pretty much every day and they have this habit of blaming her for everything, even if it's not her fault at all? i'd love to see how frank would be with the reader in a situation like that

thank you so much for all your work and sending love!!

BURN ALL THE MERCY OUT OF ME ➵ F. CASTLE

Summary: You have a complicated relationship with your parents, and Frank tries to support you during the toughest times.

Warnings: Verbally/emotionally abusive parents, hurt/comfort, feminine nicknames

Word count: 2k

Author’s note: Parents can suck so much sometimes. I’m really sorry you have to deal with this, anon! I’m sending you so much love too, I hope you like this <3

One thing Frank learned about you quickly was your complex relationship with your parents. When you were first getting to know each other, he bit his tongue in the belief that it wasn’t his place to be commenting on anything, but the closer that you got, the harder it became for him to stand aside and watch you get mistreated. You were such a patient, kind soul that he grew smitten with in a matter of moments, and he absolutely hated seeing the way your parents acted sometimes.

He knew families could be complicated and difficult, but still loved and important. That was the case with you, too — even though arguments with your parents were practically a daily occurrence, they were dear to you and you were unable to pull away from them. It was a delicate balance you couldn’t always manage, and as much became obvious to Frank as your relationship continued to bloom and grow.

It was something you just couldn’t get away from. Your tumultous bond had even come close to ruining a date with you and Frank, though the man had insisted he understood. Still, you still shuddered when you thought back to the night, you and him huddled up in the back of his truck with blankets and wine, and the bright, starry night sky above you for your entertainment.

It had been perfect, right up until the moment your parents started blowing up your phone.

”Sorry”, you gave Frank half a smile as you dug out your phone to turn the sound off, only to find your notifications blasted with messages from both your mom and dad. The sight made you nervous and you lingered, staring at the screen with familiar anxiety and guilt swirling in the pit of your stomach, and Frank was fast to pick up on it.

”Somethin’ wrong, sweetheart?” he questioned softly, not wanting to sound accusatory or too curious. You knew that, in fact, his gentle but gruff voice brought you solace and got you to snap out of your darkening thoughts.

”Yeah, it’s just— my mom, she’s…”, you stuttered, not sure how to even begin explaining the situation you had been dragged into, but you didn’t have the time when your phone started buzzing. ”And now she’s calling me”, you sighed, running your hand across your face as you hopped off of the truck, ”I’m sorry, I’ll be quick.”

Even though you put distance between you and Frank, the night was quiet enough for him to hear the shouting emerging from the other end of the phone. It left a heavy feeling in his chest, his jaw clenched as he watched you sniffle and shake. It made him want to hold you and shield you and push away anyone who dared to disturb the peace within you, but right now, all he could do was sit there and uneasily follow how you tried to defend yourself through the phone.

When you raised your voice, a surge of pride took over him — you really didn’t seem like the type to yell without reason, nor did you pick fights willingly, but he loved to see you at least try and stand up for yourself. It was in that moment that he realized you were used to it. This was a normal situation for you; you had already grown numb to these arguments, and that pained him immensely to understand. You deserved far better, and that was something he wanted you to hear out loud.

Once you hung up and returned to the truck, wiping your eyes and pretending like your mom hadn’t made you cry, Frank was quick to react. He helped you cuddle up to him, and once you were nestled into his arms, he took in a deep breath.

”Hey, listen, uh… I don’t wanna overstep, but ya know it ain’t right the way they treat you, right?” he noted carefully, trying to be respectful even if he felt strongly about it. He had fallen for you completely, but even if he hadn’t, he wouldn’t have wanted to see you hurt by anyone — but especially not your parents.

You shrugged, feeling a little embarrassed. ”It’s just how it’s always been. I know it sucks but they’re my parents”, you explained, not really sure how else to justify it. Of course, it hurt to be treated that way, but you didn’t know how to break that pattern after all these years.

”Christ, darlin’… I’m real sorry to hear that. No parent should ever be like that towards their kid. You ever wanna rant about it to me, ’m all ears”, he promised, looking down at you with sympathy shining in his eyes. It made you smile, and for the first time in a long while, you felt heard and appreciated.

Even though you felt like the date had been something of a disaster, it hadn’t scared Frank away. He stuck around, always wanting to see and hear more of you, and eventually, the string of date nights turned into sharing a bed and holding hands in public. Frank couldn’t imagine being called someone’s boyfriend, not after what he had already been and lost, but that was what he became and you couldn’t have been happier about it.

As you began dating, your problems with your parents persisted. Frank helped you set some boundaries, but that didn’t go well with your mother and father, who instantly labelled your new boyfriend as a bad influence who was trying to drive a wedge between you and your family. It wasn’t easy, trying to prove to Frank that you could do it but also maintaining the peace with your parents.

Still, like he had before, Frank tried to not get too involved — he was protective of you, but he couldn’t force you to cut off your parents. But when you came home in tears one day, he was pushed over the edge.

You slammed the door shut, hiccuping from the power of your cries, and within seconds, Frank was alerted from the bedroom where he had been changing the sheets. He knew you were going to visit your parents, and he wanted to make everything at home perfect for you to take off any excess stress, but you were back earlier than he had anticipated, which was enough to tip him off that something had gone wrong.

”Hey, hey, c’mere”, Frank rushed to your side, his arms winding around your figure to pull you into his chest. You crashed against him, sobbing freely into his shirt, and caressed your hair while softly swaying from side to side. ”Shh, sh, sh, it’s okay, sweetheart. I’m right here”, he comforted you, worry roaring inside him but he knew the most important thing right now was to calm you down before you’d spiral further.

Sniffling, you listened to the rumble of his voice in your ear and let it guide you out of the pain surrounding you. Your head throbbed from all the crying, but slowly, Frank got you to stop, the hurting still inside you but the tears ceasing their flow.

”There you go, attagirl. It’s aight. Wanna tell me what happened?” he inquired, approaching the subject caution to avoid making you cry more. Still, that innate concern and love he had for you pushed him to wonder in the hopes that he could do something to help.

”It was a mess. She was making dinner but ended up spilling the whole pot and she said it was because I distracted her. And then my dad got really mad and started yelling and next thing I know, they’re both screaming at me”, you explained with an obvious tremble in your voice, feeling so guilty. ”I just can’t do anything right, they always blame me for everything”, you added with a defeated sigh, pulling away from Frank enough to wipe your eyes and peel your coat off.

He watched you hang up your coat and take off your shoes, his anger starting to bubble up at what he was hearing. ”It ain’t your fault, baby, I promise. They’re actin’ like assholes for no reason. You do everythin’ for them and they should appreciate it so goddamn much more”, he insisted, his eyebrows knitted together and his arms folding over his chest.

”Thanks, Frankie”, you gave him a quiet smile before padding over to the kitchen for some water. He could tell you didn’t want to talk about it more, but he wasn’t satisfied.

”Alright. I’m headin’ out, sweetheart. I’ll be back shortly, promise”, he announced, pulling on his boots quickly and leaving the apartment after catching you in a deep, slow kiss. He hoped that the feeling of his lips on yours told you how much he cared about you, and how bad he felt for you, but in case it wasn’t enough, he made a quick decision to head over to your parents to speak his mind.

The whole drive there, he was seething on the inside. He had been determined not to intervene, but this was the last straw for him. He had watched them hurt you and ridicule you for months, and he wasn’t able to do it a second longer. They had a true gem in you, and the fact that they couldn’t see it drove Frank crazy. He, for one, was never going to take you for granted.

He arrived at your parents’ house and didn’t waste time in banging on the door. Your father opened it, and immediately tried to say something to protest Frank being there, but he cut him off before he could even get started.

”Nah, you listen to me. I’m gettin’ real sick of the way you’re treatin’ my girl. I want y’all to get your shit together and start appreciatin’ her for all that she does, ’cause she’s fuckin’ incredible. You don’t deserve her, but she’s willing to love you, anyway, and all you gotta do is love her back. For her sake, I hope one day she’s able to cut your sorry asses off but until then, I’mma make sure to defend her, you got that?” he raved on, feeling so hurt on your behalf. You had limitless patience for your parents and he couldn’t deny that he might have been the same way in your shoes, always one to put family first, but it wasn’t easy to watch from the sidelines.

”She’s the best thing to ever happen to me and I think it’s the same for you. So, cut her some goddamn slack, will you?” Frank finished, huffing in your father’s face before turning on his heel and stomping back to his truck. He wasn’t sticking around for a fight — all he wanted to do was stand up for you and that was that. He didn’t know if it was going to work, obviously, but he didn’t regret doing it. He felt like it had been necessary, like your parents really needed to hear it, even if it wasn’t coming from you. It was worth a shot, anyway.

He drove back home and once he made it inside the apartment, he found you curled up on the couch in front of the TV, no longer crying but clearly upset. His heart broke a little at the sight of you so sad, and he swiftly undid his boots, so that he could crawl up on the space next to you and pull you into his arms.

”Had a talk with your parents”, he spoke up, and you instinctively looked up at him, a surprised look on your face. ”Dunno if it’s gonna do anythin’, but I had to defend my girl. I feel real shitty about the way they treat you, sweetheart”, he elaborated, and slowly, a smile formed on your lips.

”You’re the best”, you whispered, dropping your head onto his shoulders. ”I know I shouldn’t let them but it’s hard to stand up to them. And it’s harder to even consider just turning my back on them”, you continued, and with an understanding nod, Frank pressed a kiss on the crown of your head.

”Yeah, baby, I know it is. You don’t gotta do anythin’

you don’t wanna. I support you either way, y’know that. I just hate to see you hurt”, he sighed, squeezing you tightly.

”Thank you. For everything. For being you”, you told him, genuine appreciation in your tone as you hugged his firm body.

Frank smiled, happy that his presence was enough to make you feel better. ”Love you, sweetheart. I got you.”

[herzzgeist]

hi, could you write about law where his gf is just a clumsy mess. And she just hit her head on a open drawer, pretty hard. And know she is embaressed to go to him and ask for a ice pack. So she try to steal it unnoticed from his room. But of course she got caught.

And now she just try to played down, but it hurts like hell. He just care for her lil wound and something fluffy down the road. Maybe she remind him of cora. Ahhhh sorry for the spam

Pairing: Law x Clumsy fem!reader | Word count: 1.4k | Warnings: none

Synopsis: Oh look, another bruise. Didn't notice this one, silly me! Law can't stand the way you hold yourself - without care. Everytime he hears a faint 'Shit' or 'Ow' in the distance, he immediately considers it to be you, hurting yourself unintentioally again. What a drag. And yet another day, he finds you in attempt to smuggle something from the infirmary, observing you how you disfigure the drug storage. He actually has to speak up, until you finally realise you're not alone. "Law, it's nothing." - "Nothing can't turn red and blue and starts to swell like that (Y/n)-ya! Now hold still!"

A/N: Anon, I LOVE spam! The more details the better :3 - Here we have a fluffy OneShot! Thank you for your request, I must say I adore the clumsy reader trope ఌ (erm, since I walk on two left feet myself)

Dividers by cafekitsune ~

What a night, you think to yourself, as you stretch and writhe underneath your warm and comfy sheets. The cold hits you like you're being thrown into a pool of ice water, as you lift the shield of comfort, goosebumps prickling along your skin. Yawning in a still jaded state, you crumble off the mattress and of course hit your toe on the cabinet's leg. As you do every morning.

In pain you yowl a distressed little curse, hopping in place. It's straining you beyond belief, praying for some sort of miracle to rid you of those cursed two left feet. If not for the better, you should wear bubble wrapper clothes, this way you won't hurt yourself non stop at least. However, it is, dare say, not the most attractive fashion option.

In addition, you are practically obliged to see the doctor, who you happen to be in a relationship with, verily frequent. Naturally, whenever you arrive at the kitchen or common room within the Polar Tang, it is of your highest priority to avoid Trafalgar's death gaze, before he opts to drag you to the infirmary with those, as you may call them 'little' aches and pains you always put on yourself. Until now, they were ever so often not to be taken lightly and Law patched you up in no time. Shame fills you, embarassed that you're, simply explained, a klutz.

You enjoy it no less, the attention your aloof lover gives you and the petty and sarcastic comments he throws at you. Him being close to you. His warm hands cleaning any cuts and bruises and his voice stern yet reassuring calms you, no doubt. With that in mind, you can't help but notice your heart beating faster to the pictures replaying in your mind. Squeezing your eyes shut, you shake your head wildly, in hopes to quickly forget what's caught up in your day dreams about a certain white hatted man.

Today is your turn in kitchen duty and you decide to prepare breakfast earlier than usual, for you have something special in mind to serve this fine morning. Looking through the storage, no drawer or door is left unopened and you search for the needed ingredients.

As you lean down to seek out the lower cupboards, your skill to dodge the edge of an open drawer abandons you. Close to your temple, you feel how heat shoots up that area, making you dizzy. Fingertips trace along your head, where the imprint has been knocked into. Everything threatens to grow black before you.

„Oh, please no. Not again.", you murmur in desperation, legs beginning to weaken and nausea builds up from your core. That was quite the hit. Sitting down on the cold tile floor, you hide your face in your shaky palms. In panic, you come to the conclusion, that you must reach the infirmary, fast. All without getting caught by your overly attentive boyfriend, seems close to impossible to you. "Ice pack . .", is what you groan and you are set on your destination.

On wobbly legs, you close the door behind you and follow the corridor, down to the infirmary. Paranoia creeps over your spine, eyes scanning every dark and shallow corner. Before you enter the room, you peek over your shoulder to make sure you aren't followed: „Good, coast is clear.", the metal creaks and you step over the doorframe.

In all nervosity you begin to mumble and rummage through the drug storage: "Where is this god damn thing. I remember him putting it-" - "A little to the left, sweetheart." Jumpscared by the deep rumble behind you, you turn in a quick spin and stand in your Captain's shadow. With all your might, you gift him your most hearty and lovable smile, greeting him: "Law?! Why hello my love I-"

Instantly closing the locker doors behind your back, you giggle exaggeratedly, trying to play it cool, avoiding the icy steel glare, coming from the doctor. He orders: „Show me." Almost too quick you retort his command with an overacted pout of your lips, questioning his indication. Closer and closer the heavy steps come your way, stopping before you. Law reaches for your head and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, revealing the unmistaken bump.

An exasperated groan reverbs from his chest and he points at the examination table. "Now.", he commands and without a squeak, you obey. There you are again, seated on the cold metal plate. „Tell me what happend.", he utters, while washing his hands and putting on rubber gloves. There is no way you can escape his room anymore, unironically speaking.

Thus you twirl your thumbs in abashment, explaining: „I hit my head on a drawer in the kitchen about five minutes ago. I swear it's nothing, just a little bruis-" - „(Y/n)-ya, a little bruise doesn't turn red and blue and begins to swell at such an alarming rate. Now hold still." Ever so slowly, he approaches you, his grey orbs fixated on the injury. Inked and slender digits glide through your hair to get a better concept. Involuntarily, a hiss shoots through your teeth, as he palpates your scalp around the bump. Pins and needles trickling over your skin wherever he touches.

„Any dizziness, nausea or general weakness?" - „All three yes . . and think I was on the verge of passing out too.", by hearing your statement, which you formulate such a situation so nonchalanty is beyond Law's comprehesion. Oh how infuriated he is. Not hesitating once, he grabs the cleaning tools, anticeptics and cooling salves to get to work, patching you up again. It's become an everyday life chore for your dear Captain. Though he detests how imprudent and careless you are, he cannot deny how utterly adorable you appear at times, puppy eyes attempting to white wash every scratch on your body, not wanting to disturb him by all means. It is something he learned to love about you.

Yet somehow you remind him of someone. Somebody he used to care about alot when he was just a boy. Could it be? Why of course, Corazon. Well, at least you didn't burst into flames, like he did. Fortunately, you're not prone to smoke, to Law's approval. However, all the other stunts you deliver, are rather similar to Rosinante's, one could think you are related to one another. A smile tugs on the Captain's lips, as he finishes the treatment.

„What are you so happy about, darling?", you hum sweetly, earning a disgruntled click of his tongue, telling you it's nothing. You show your gratitude with a kiss to his cheek. It managed to elict a skip of his heart and he furrows his brows subsequently, hiding the red tint on his face under the brim of his hat.

Seeing him tidy up the infirmary, you make it your task to help him clean up after that little ‚operation'. „You should get some rest. Drink lots of water and take pain killers if needed. And for the love of god, please tell me, if any symptomps get worse, understood?", he growls through a tensed up jaw. You playfully nudge his side and chuckle softly: „I think I learned my lesson today. I'm grateful. Really appreciate your kindness and patience with me."

Kindness? Who on earth would call a powerhouse, a man as known as ‚the Surgeon of Death', kind? Only shaking his head and scoffing to your heartstring pulling remark, he huffs: „You're a curious one, (Y/n)" Side by side, you stand next to eachother, cleaning up the tool station. Through the corner of your eye, you notice his fleeting gaze upon you. Hence you return it, facing him with a querying expression.

An unexpected pinch on your cheek takes you aback, a small ‚Ouch' escaping you: „Oi, what was that for?" Law's thumb and index finger linger on the round of your face, not moving away, muttering lowly: „This is for being a fool, the clumsy mess that you are" removing his fingers from you, he gently places his palm back on the spot where he pinched you a moment ago „and this is for your troubles, my clumsy mess that you are."

Slowly he leans down to your level and lets his lips enlighten yours with the love he harbors for you, his blundering woman.

And as if nothing happend, the throbbing pain in your head disperses into thin air.

[carlyraejepsans]

hey, you don’t have to answer this at all, I just want you to read it. I have been following you for only a few months now as I’ve only recently gotten back into the undertale fandom; but fuck that callout post. Fuck that callout post, fuck whoever’s is spreading it around and fuck whoever is harassing you for it. From what I’ve seen and heard, you are a very real and cool person, and all your analysis are banger as fuck, and it saddens me to see that people are trying to push you out of this fandom because you believe harassment is bad.

I think it’s incredibly insane how the game about being pacifist, and being kind, even when people are flawed has such a toxic fandom as this - and its not toxic because of the ships. Or the fanfics. Or the porn. Its toxic because people keep trying to push and hurt those who make such content, and it scares everyone else into a strict line and if you dare to even step a foot out by simply going “I don’t want people to be told to kill themselves”, you are the #1 enemy. This fandom is fucking scary, and I am so sorry you have become a target of it. You are in my thoughts, and I pray that this blows over relatively easy for you. <3 you are a great person and whoever thinks otherwise is a miserable, jealous wrench.

awww HAHAHA you're sweet, that's very thoughtful of you. no need for hopes and prayers, just a fucking break from it all a word of kindness was enough. I've had a few nasty anons claiming that the fandom "doesn't need someone like me" which are just hilarious. half this fandom isn't even about its source material, i promise to you I don't care what the Great Undertale Fandom needs. I make my art for myself and write my analysis for myself and my friends, and i know for a fact that they made people happy. people who were moved by it, who were pushed to think more critically about stories at my prompting, and who just plainly had a laugh. i know because they reached out to thank me for it. if I'm on here for anyone other than myself, those are the people I'm here for

this was always just a shitty little hole for an opinionated asshole, but it sure had a larger, more positive impact on the people around me than anyone currently trying to crawl up my ass. that's enough for me

[serickswrites]

hey there! it been a while since been here. i have missed it.

i have a prompt for you if you so choose to accept.

what would your take on a sassy whumpee? like there they are at whumpers mercy, while whumpee is just sitting there bored to death like "you jerk, how dare you keep me here and have die of boredom" and whumper is just sitting there questioning his life choices.

this is definitely more crack than anything but i found the idea and wanted to see if you'd like to give it a spin.

take care!

-🫠

Hello, Anon! Welcome back. (I realize you asked this ages ago...I am really trying to make up for lost time lol).

I can absolutely write this prompt for you. I happen to love a sassy character whether they are a whumpee or not lol. Please enjoy.

Warnings: captivity, restraints, torture, sensory deprivation, white torture, defiant whumpee

Whumper sat in front of their computer watching the screen. They tried to ignore the voice calling through the door. Things were not going as they planned at all.

Whumpee was anything but easy to catch. And now that Whumper had Whumpee bound to a chair in a dark room, their ears plugged with cotton and head phones, Whumper thought that things would get easier. Thought that they could sit back and enjoy watching Whumpee break and descend into madness.

They were wrong.

"Whumper!" Whumpee called, their head turning this way and that. "Really, you are such a jerk. I'm dying of boredom here. I thought you were going to torture me. If this is what you call torture, I hate to think of what you would call actual torture."

Whumper closed their eyes and gritted their teeth. This was supposed to be easy. This was supposed to break Whumpee.

"Whumper! Are you just going to sit here while I'm bored out of my mind? You are so lazy! At least let me lay down for a bit, maybe I can get a nap in since you're just going to bore me to death."

Somehow, Whumper had to find a way to hurt Whumpee. Break Whumpee. Because they couldn't stand the torture of Whumpee defying them every step of the way.

"Guess I'll have to entertain myself by singing. I'm a terrible singer you know. But you brought this on yourself! I'VE GOT A LOVELY BUNCH OF COCONUTS!"

Whumper plugged their ears trying to block out Whumpee's terribly off key, loud voice. They had to find a way to actually hurt Whumpee before Whumpee hurt them.

[bonesandthebees]

I'm not sure if any of this is as important to say as I feel like it is, but just in case, here it is.

Idk about you, but I'm really tired of having things taken from me because the cc's were abusive. I say this with an emphasis on the fact that supporting their victims and condemning their actions is far more important, that I'm not giving that man a single cent anymore. The most important thing the community can do is support the people he hurt. But It's still gonna hurt to purge my playlist because we, as a community, were lied to. And something I derived comfort from, especially in the wake of recent personal events, has been taken from me. Not by the community or by the people coming out; by him and his actions.

So seriously thank you for creating a space for people to talk about what's going on, because it's so easy to feel guilty right now for having feelings about this situation. Especially as a neurodivergent person whose main comfort is music, including music (and YouTube videos) he made.

I just feel like it's important to put this out there. The community as a whole needs to support the victims, but it's also okay to feel betrayed and it's okay to look at his songs in your playlist, dreading deleting them, for a while. No one will hate you for that. You're not a bad person for that. They're just songs or videos, but they're content that mattered to some of us. How dare he ruin that for all of us. How dare he.

Now that I've written a whole entire novel, please take care of yourself. I know I'm an internet stranger but I almost didn't write this because I think that it's important to emphasize that while I'm glad to see Tumblr users creating a space to talk for those of us who don't post and such, I also think it's way more important that your blog be a safe space for you yourself.

- a rambly anon 🪐

yeah, trust me, I'm fucking sick of this too. you're not selfish for feeling upset about deleting his songs from your playlist or not being able to watch vods of his for comfort anymore. you are not a bad person for having an attachment to someone who lied to his audience about who he was. you are human. you are allowed to be upset.

also, to veer slightly from your point but to bring something else up, while I know there are varying opinions on the community in this I personally don't think I want to let this make me stop hoping for people to be good. yes, it might seem like an endless pattern of people you like being revealed to be assholes. and for some people, they might want to leave the community to avoid that disappointment again. for me, I'm not going to put cc's up on a pedestal and expect them to be great people, but I'm not going to expect the worst from them either. keep my expectations realistic, but not pessimistic. content creators are flawed human beings like the rest of us, and sometimes they can be really shitty people, but sometimes they can be good people too. and I'm always going to hope for the latter.

and thank you for thinking of me. honestly the reason I've slowed down answering asks the past few days is precisely because I've been trying to take care of myself. I've gone up and down in terms of how I'm doing, and when I'm not feeling up to it I don't touch my inbox.

and despite everything that's happened this morning, I've had a good day. I got myself a cinnamon roll. I'm drinking green tea and it's sunny out. I saw flowers blooming on the side of the road and it made me smile. focusing on the little things, you know?

[muffinsin]

Hello muffin tis i, deluded anon with another ask. Tw for ablism i think? I am autistic and get called slurs and mocked for it by my family n friends, such as the r word n whatnot. If theres any issues that cause me stress like putting the cutlery away- they are too loud and hurt my head. Or if my clothes and everything touching me burns n pricks me, being mute on occasions i get told to get a grip n to shut up- then told off later if i was in public. They treat other autistic people differently from me n reassure them that its ok n valid but its not ok for me to be like that. Anyways i dont really do people and am attached to my teddies n plushies- they have feelings. I always take the most care with them n i dont want them to be uncomfortable, they all call me delusional and a not right for loving my plushies (and fictional women)more than them.

So what would happen if the reader were to be autistic and a maid in the castle struggling with some certain tasks and the rest of the maids treating the reader like how ive been treated (if that makes sense. Idk if i’m making sense) so readers kind of like the laughing stock for them, unbeknownst to the sisters until some maid rips a teddy or comfort item.

How would the sisters react to this? I dont think theyd like it nor tolerate it due to cassandra being autistic and daniela having adhd.

I’m sorry this is such a long ask and quite frankly too much of a self centred one. I have no idea if this makes sense- i apologies sincerely if this makes you uncomfortable in any way. Please dont feel pressured to write this.

I can 100% see the rendition of lion king being played out with dani 😂 she would without a doubt try n blag her mother into making her sister make up for being mean to her, like forfeiting a maid to her.



Of course! I’m very curious about this ask tbh and hope I’ll do it justice :)

A few things first up under the cut, if anybody wants to skip to the start of the HCs, it’ll be marked for you😊

TW: ableism, bullying

Let’s get into this! :)

Masterlists

Tbh I’m hoping I’ll be able to get this right! I’m not autistic myself and am only going off what I’ve read here and experiences I’ve been told about by friends.

First thing I want to say hon, is that you are absolutely, 100% valid.

Nobody- and this includes you- deserves to be called slurs or treated wrongly for such reasons. There is no justification to it at all. To treat you differently while claiming to be accepting with others is awful, and I sincerely hope you will find people decent and good enough to accept you, friends especially :)

Also- plushie superiority honestly XP What are their names?👀 Have you got a fav? Or is it an I-love-them-all-equally- situation? Honestly, regarding what you’ve said about plushie love not being okay? I call bs on it. I find plushie love is one of the sweetest there is, even when I don’t have that many myself, I greatly treasure the few plushies I still have. Heck yeah XD

Is the autism and ADHD for Cassandra and Daniela canon? Or a HC?👀 I’ve never heard of it

(Lion king drabble mentioned: here)

Aight that’s it from me! This all probably made little sense, because ironically I cannot comfort at all, I suck at it in most cases, but I hope I still got the key points across somehow XD

Let’s get into it!

(Beginning of the ask)

Bela

She adores you, with all her heart

Bela loves you so much, each part of you

She tries her best to make life as comfortable as possible for you

Even if she can’t always relate to your struggles, she always attempts to ease them

The moment you open up about some of the things troubling you, Bela takes action

She takes special care to ensure the new uniforms are made of fabrics you approve and feel comfortable in, and orders them as soon as possible

Until their arrival, Bela has taken it upon herself to declare to everyone that you are not obliged to wear the old ones

Nobody dares to call you out for working in a shirt instead of the uniform, the order comes from Bela, after all, one of the highest of your superiors, right after Alcina

When the new uniforms are delivered, you can’t help but smile. They’re perfect!

Bela has the old ones disposed of, thrown someplace she can’t be bothered to know

Next, there are the tasks appointed to you

While she normally doesn’t get involved all that much in the staff’s business and shares a mutual respect with the grand chambermaid, she does interfere here

She requests that you are not given tasks in the kitchen as to not get overwhelmed by the loud noises

Nor does she wish for you to work anywhere near the basements

Of course, your lover would never allow you anywhere in the basements, even outside of work, even when she is lurking down there

It’s for safety purposes, most of all

Instead, you are usually appointed calmer places, such as the library or even the castle gardens or greenhouse at times

Bela is flustered whenever you remember to bring her a flower from the outside in winter

Aside from all these things, Bela is your shoulder to cry on, and your pillar to lean on

She never fails to reassure you how much she loves you, and how things you consider as flaws are endearing to her

She knows, sometimes you tend to be quiet, if not entirely mute

After a quick check in whether you’re all right, and you reassure her, she smiles widely

Bela treasures such silence, really

She enjoys to spend time with you, and sometimes silence is just what she needs

After all, the castle can be loud already, especially to her

Wrestling her screaming, kicking and bickering younger sisters all day and night often gives her a migraine

She loves simply cuddling in bed or sitting together, reading together or simply relaxing

Bela doesn’t mind your quietness, and she can easily either make conversation by monologing, or bask in it, even go as far as to close her eyes

She finds these moments precious

She knows nearly everything about you- all except one thing

Life among the staff

Bela doesn’t know of the torment you face, not quite

She doesn’t notice your anxiety when they make fun of you, doesn’t know about how uncomfortable you become when they poke you for fun

She doesn’t know an old uniform has been retrieved from the storage and switched with yours specifically merely to amuse the other staff members

You grit your teeth at the wrong fabric on you, the uncomfortable one that feels entirely too heavy and scratchy

No matter how much you search for the new uniform, it’s hidden far away beyond your grasp

Only when all your duties are done can your change out of it and back into your normal clothing, just in time for Bela to finish work and greet you with a warm smile

You don’t dare tell her, too worried what the other maids will do

After all, Bela can’t dispose of them all

Then there’s the noises…

How often you are brought to the edge of feeling overstimulated and overwhelmed when maids laugh and mock you, forks and knives in their hands as they slap them together

Like sticks hitting a drum, maybe

You are not oblivious to their laughter as you bury your head in your brown teddy bear and fluffy, blue arm sized blanket

Soon, you are indirectly appointed to the kitchens

Not by the grand chambermaid, nor by Bela

You feel uncomfortable at the hands grabbing you by the arms and leading you there

Their reasoning? If you don’t clean up, maidens will be hurt, and it will be your fault

Aside from this, with more hurt maidens and their panic increasing, so will the stress your girlfriend will have to face over trying to manage the castle

They know of your love for Bela, and often use it to have you do things you dislike

Such as picking up all the silverware from the wet sink, drying it in a towel of a texture you dislike, and putting them in the drawers

Their laughter and mockery rings out behind you while you’re made to finish their work

Still, as torturous as all of this is, their newest stunt is incomparable to it

As you find yourself hugging your stuffed bear yet again and cry into its fur at the loud laughter around you, you suddenly feel it tugged from you

Naturally, you try to hold on

Slurs are thrown at you. Mockery

You hear a particular loud cry, a maid calling you a baby, just before you’re suddenly sent back on the bed

You’re holding your teddy- as is the maid tugging it

Tears well up in your eyes as you hold its body, your eyes scanning the unattached leg now dropped to the floor

You feel someone snap their fingers right next to your ear and jump

More laughter

The women around you laugh and mock as you sink to the floor, your teddy and blanket held tight to you as you attempt to grasp the leg

It’s kicked in the corner of the room, and more laughter rings out when you crawl after it quickly

More harsh name calling, until eventually you grasp it

Unsurprisingly, you can’t just push it back on

You aren’t sure how much time passes until your girlfriend finds you

You aren’t even sure when you wandered off to Bela’s room. It’s as if your feet just automatically carried you to your safe place

She immediately swarms to you, her hands hovering by your arms

With a nod of your head, reassuring her it’s okay, she touches you

She immediately feels the change of fabric of your uniform. She knows, this isn’t the right one

Still, golden eyes set on the damaged teddy bear in your hands

Again, she waits for your permission before she pulls you on her lap, knowing you’re so distraught now

She grasps your hands and dries your tears, and gently holds the leg one one hand, the remaining teddy in her other

“He’s broken”, you sob, and Bela is quick to assure you

“Damaged, my dove, not broken”

She promises, she can fix your friend

And true to her word, she does

Urging you to change, she allows you to search her closet for anything that suits you

You watch with wide, hopeful eyes as she takes a sewing kid from one of her many shelves

Thankfully, your beautiful girlfriend enjoys branching out and learning so many new skills…

You watch with wonder as she adds stuffing back into the leg, and even allows you to pick a color to stitch it back together in

Dressed comfortably in her larger clothing and holding onto her pillows and your blue blanket, you watch as slowly, but surely, your friend’s leg is reattached

“He’s on bed rest now, you know”, she teases, hoping to bring a smile to your face

Bela portrays this picture of calmness for you, but rest assured, the moment she knows you’re completely calm and happy again, she will personally see to it that such actions are punished

She demands to know what has been going on with the staff, and offers you your own room, should you not want to move into hers

Bela smiles in self satisfaction as she hand picks the new recruits for cadou experiments, hunts, and, of course, Cassandra’s birthday presents ;)

Cassandra

She cares a lot about you, and is incredibly protective of you

Cassandra tries her best to make you comfortable

She knows, her fast, often dangerous and hectic movements can intimidate or scare away most. She doesn’t want that to happen with you

While Cassandra isn’t the best at listening, she takes in all you say whenever you are made uncomfortable by something

Such as the clanging of her weapons when she carelessly drops them all on a big pile

Her heart breaks a little when you cover your ears at the loud noise caused by metal hitting metal

Was she a dog, her ears would droop down

Instead, she immediately apologizes and tries to still the rocking blades

She makes sure not to clank them against one another again, instead is careful to place them down one by one

She grins widely whenever this earns her a kiss and a smile of yours

Her efforts are certainly not dismissed and ignored!

Then, there’s of course your like and dislike towards certain sensations

She can’t help but giggle when you fall into her bed the first time you touch it

She has all the perfect fabrics!

Cassandra is very picky as it comes to them, too

Her dress is tight, but soft

It doesn’t scratch along her skin and isn’t too soft to make her feel droopy. It’s just perfect to her

Her bed equals this

Soft, satin sheets she likes, and a few large pillows. Not too much, just enough for her to sleep comfortably

You love wearing her clothing. It’s perfect and doesn’t irritate your skin

In return, Cassandra doesn’t mind lending it to you, even if you don’t quite fit into it

All her clothing is custom made, such as Alcina’s dresses and the typical black dresses all three sisters like to wear

The crafter? None other than the famous other Lady of the village

Cassandra makes it a point to ask Donna for clothing made in your size. In return, she is ready to send across a few of the castle’s finest cooking ingredients

It’s working out well, and often she likes to surprise you with a new clothing item of your choice, made of a fabric of your choice

Cassandra doesn’t care for fabrics, merely the feel of them

She allows you to take charge whenever it comes to picking the right ones out

In the beginning, you worry Cassandra will mind your occasional silence

You’re all too happy to notice: she doesn’t

Cassandra talks often, but isn’t quite one for conversation

She likes monologuing, knowing you’re listening to her as she rants about her hunts and her sisters

She doesn’t take your silence as disrespect, though at times randomly reminds herself to check in whether you’d like her to keep talking or stay silent as well for some peace and quiet

She likes to bask in such silence sometimes, to have her head on your lap and play with a few of her flies while you stroke her soft hair

Another thing she’s surprised you by is regarding your stuffed animals

While she hasn’t quite got the connection to them you have, she respects it

Though, she will not allow all of them in her bed. She wants that space all to herself

Still, she is mindful to keep a corner of the bed empty for your stuffed animals, and only growls playfully when you shower them in love, subtly reminding you to place a kiss to her forehead, too

She can’t help but be a little clingy sometimes, after all

Cassandra doesn’t fault you for preferring plushies to humans. She isn’t exactly a fan of them either and rather sees them as nuisances or means to an end, after all

All except you. You’re her precious little human

And Cassandra wants to keep you safe at all times

Yet, there are things even she cannot seem to keep you safe from

Such as the staff members

You know, Cassandra doesn’t get involved with the maiden’s affairs unless to drag one to the basement

She is therefore unaware of the pokes and laughter that follow you sometimes

The slurs whispered your way… you know Cassandra would have their heads for it, yet you can’t seem to bring yourself to tell her

And they know it all too well

Your heart hurts when they talk to you, and in time, you know the only reason for this are dares

Dares, from one maid to another, to talk to you

Entertainment, as they chat and mock you subtly, trying to see how long it takes you to notice

You try to brush it off. To not let it bother you

Cassandra surely wouldn’t let it bother her! She seems so powerful…

Their words regarding this sting. How she could be with someone like you

When you’re allowing them to walk all over you

Some freak, as they say

Their words haunt you hours later even, when your shifts end and you’re cuddled up against Cassandra as she monologues about this and that while showing you her newest dagger

Then, there’s the little stuffed turtle you like to keep in your pocket

It helps you stay calm sometimes, even with the uniform being scratchy and uncomfortable

Often they laugh as they snatch your turtle from you, instead throw her through the air, right above your outstretched hands as you attempt to catch your precious friend

All other stuffed animals are kept safe in Cassandra’s room. All but this one

No one would dare venture into her territory merely to taunt you

No maid is this foolish

You gasp when the turtle is thrown yet again, high in the air in the main hall, right above your hands even as you jump to reach it

Your eyes widen when your precious stuffed animal lands right in the fireplace

Thankfully, not a lit one. It’s summer, thankfully, and the castle is warm enough as it is

But it’s hot, and dirty, and smears black dust and ashes all over the green fur

“Freak”, they taunt as they pass you, crying and attempting to wipe the dirt off

Cassandra finds you easily, having heard your fast heartbeat indicating your panic attack even from the basement

You can merely look up at her as she kneels down, her gloves easily pulled down by her teeth as she holds the little turtle

She’s very careful no blood is smeared on it or you, and opts for staying a little distant upon realising she’s covered in it nearly from head to toe

You don’t seem to mind, you can only look at the turtle, impossibly small in Cassandra’s large hands as strong fingers rub over the dirt gently

A stain remains, and you smile watery. A battle wound, maybe?

The thought comforts you only slightly

You suppose, a scar, a battle wound, wouldn’t be the worst thing…Cassandra has them, after all, scars littering her backside from challenging fights

She won, in the end

Upon demanding what happened, and hearing your tale, Cassandra sees red

She wipes the back of her hand against her lips to clean her bloodied lips, then presses a small kiss to your forehead before she swarms off

In the days to come, plenty examples are maid

Maidens are set free only to be dragged back screaming and badly hurt, begging for forgiveness as they are killed in front of the others

Others are immediately dragged to the basement

And the remaining two that have started it all, are devoured alive in front of the rest of the staff, Cassandra’s warning screamed from their lips

Never, never, will she allow someone to mistreat you again

She keeps a close eye on you, and often opts for having a few flies buzzing around you when you aren’t with her

Daniela

Daniela is a hyper little thing, full of energy and love that she wants to shower you in

She’s very clingy with you, but also incredibly perceptive

More so than her other two sisters, even

She picks up on your slight grimace when it’s dinner time and the rattling of silverware irritates your ears

Without having to tell her, Daniela is more delicate in her movements with her fork and knife- she was the main source of this noise after all, smacking them together because she is generally too energetic to sit still

Instead, she merely swarms around excitedly and annoys her sisters until the food is served

She also notices- you don’t like every clothing item she has to offer

Some just- don’t take your pick, and at first she is a little hurt

She doesn’t understand why, and worries you might think she has horrible taste

Or perhaps don’t want to wear a gift of hers altogether

Daniela tends to overthink fast, and quickly becomes a little hesitant to shower you in gifts when you don’t seem too happy with the two dresses she’s brought you

While she is all for comfort, Daniela doesn’t mind scratchiness of her gowns

Being put in so many of them for balls and events hosted by Alcina, she has learned to ignore the urge to scratch and the annoying itch caused by scratchy sleeves

Overall, she still loves gowns, and isn’t bothered by differences in textures

When you explain to her that you feel differently about this, it’s a little difficult for her to understand

However, Daniela cares about you, and if you tell her this fabric is bad fabric, she’ll tear it to pieces for you, as though you’re her fair maiden and she is the knight protecting you from the fierce dragon!

She often makes slashing noises as she does though, a little too invested in her fantasies

You don’t mind

You think her creativity and fantasy endearing, even

Daniela is curious, though. Often she will randomly swarm to you to ask whether something is good or bad, just out of curiosity, and maybe because she’s turned it into a game

She wants to see if she is getting better at telling what is good and what isn’t, so her surprises and gifts for you are ones you can actually enjoy

She brings you fabrics of gowns and shirts, food and drinks, and even once a very grumpy Bela to question whether her sister feels bad too

She claims she does, with a large, shit eating grin on her face, and you smile as her laughter is heard through the halls when she is chased down for such behaviour, likely made to sit and listen to another lecture of the blonde should she be caught

You find, you look forward to hearing Daniela complain about it

While Daniela can be very loud and hyper at times, and often enough you join in, she doesn’t mind times you’re quiet either

She had no trouble at all leading a conversation, either monologuing or talking for so long and so fast, there’s no way for anybody else to join in anyway

Often, when she notices you’re in a quieter mood, she’ll take control of the conversation until the other person leaves

In return, she only expects a smile, and a kiss to her face

Yet, as much as Daniela dotes on you and coddles you, there are others who are not as sweet

Others, who do not make you feel as welcome

Others, who dare make you feel as though you aren’t normal. Not “right”

The maidens at Castle Dimitrescu can be ruthless, sometimes, especially to outsiders

Being Daniela’s partner has made you an outsider

And having autism has made you their target

They thread carefully at first, knowing you are not only under Daniela’s protection, but by this also under Bela and Cassandra’s

Should they hurt you, it hurts Daniela, after all. Alas, you have three murderous fly women on your side

However…what they don’t know…

It starts off with a group of four who take, seemingly, immense pleasure in taunting you

Their hatred comes from being small minded, and jealous, yet knowing this does nothing to help you

They don’t understand- how come you get to wear a different uniform than them?!

How come you never have to clean up the table and wash the dishes and silverware?

How come you get to work in quiet, reserved locations and get to take so many breaks, while they are to work near the entrance to the dungeons, the screams of their fellow fallen maids taunting them

How come they fear for their life, and you never need to?

You are a target by far too soon

You often find yourself crying and hiding at your bed as they laugh and bicker about, silently wishing Daniela opts for a random visit and slays them all

She doesn’t, and won’t. She isn’t allowed into the maid quarters

Their shrill laughter and loud voices hurt your ears, and as you find yourself clutching one of the stuffed animals not tucked away in Daniela’s room- a grey, knit bear- they laugh even more

Soon, you are titled as a baby and inhuman for your affection towards the stuffed animal

You feel fear shoot through you whenever you don’t find him sitting at your pillow

Often, they wave the teddy in front of you, snickering and commanding this and that

They’re playing God, and for moments you feel as though they are the predators of this castle

With the wish to receive your stuffed animal again, you clean their beds and bring their plates, silverware and cups to the kitchens after supper

Usually, you receive your bear again

Not yet this time, it seems

“Go and get it, if you dare” they snicker as they throw it down the stairs to the basement

You gulp. You know, you aren’t supposed to go down there

No maid is, but especially you

Even Daniela has forbidden you from stepping in the cellars

You shudder at the memory of her truthful description upon being asked what lies down there. Monsters with swords and sickles, mold and blood, pain and the reek of the dead, corpses and torture chambers

But…your bear

You venture down as they snicker, and jump when the door clasps shut behind you

As tears sprint to your eyes, you hear a lock. No going back now, either way

You gulp at the loud whimpers and cries, and the distant screams and groans of the undead

It’s dark, and you can barely make a thing out

You jump when you hear a loud gasp from one of the cells and a hand reaches through the bars, as though to reach you

Immediately, you keep on running

More hands shoot out, some grazing your arm and dirtying your uniform, others mere inches away from your skin

You nearly trip a few times, the floor stony and littered with buckets, thrown over tables and chairs, dull knives and what not

It’s so dark, so that you can barely make out your own hands and the ones reaching for you

You shriek as a body bag drops in front of you, immediately taking off to run another direction

Again, you scream, when you run into something

A monster?! It’s so dark you-

“Uh-“

You blink at Cassandra’s voice, and upon opening your eyes, you find golden ones staring down at you

She seems almost unsure. You aren’t supposed to be in the basements, and were you anybody else, she would have already dug her sickle into you and called you a foolish prey for running right to her

But…you’re Daniela’s

You jump at a second gasp, and whine when another pair of golden eyes sets on you

Thankfully, these do not belong to Bela Dimitrescu. You recognize the light green colour shining through gold in them

Daniela!

She gasps when you run into her, quickly adjusting her hand so you don’t run right into the scalpel you can’t see in the dark

Immediately, her shock is covered by concern when she smells the fear surrounding you

She demands to know what you’re doing her, even if she feels flustered upon thinking you might have missed her and wanted to see her bad enough to venture into the cellars

Upon opening up about the bear, you feel her grasp your hand tightly

She promises, she’s going to find it with you

You nod shakily as Cassandra grins, having just received a reason to go upstairs and cause some more trouble along the maidens

With a lit torch held tightly in Daniela’s hand, it’s by far easier to navigate the dim basement

You realise the hands reaching out were maids, now backed far in the corner of their cells to avoid Daniela’s gaze

But the redhead doesn’t mind them. She is focused on finding your bear

And find him she does, after a while of searching

You nearly whimper when she holds it up between two fingers, the fabric soaked in blood and dirt and a rat having already started to eat away at its side

She hugs you tightly as she explains, it must be disposed of

It’s a major health risk by now, having been exposed to the mold of the basement and who knows what else

You spend the next couple of days entirely in her bed, cuddled up under the covers and crying your heart out between your other stuffed animals

At last, Daniela enters, a nervous smile on her face

You notice her hand behind her back, and lift your head curiously

“So, I know it’s not the same, but I told Bela what happened and asked her to fix it…”, she trails off

You can’t help but smile and cry as she pulls her hand to the front, a bear, knit nearly perfectly and in the exact same colour as yours, sitting in her palm

“She’s actually really good at this stuff. I made her make me an octopus. I named her Sally”

[runnning-outof-time]

3 . 5 K Follower Celebration

~ The Garrison is open and the drinks are flowing! ~

Come and help me celebrate reaching 3.5k followers!

Thank you for all of the love and support you’ve shown me! I know I say it every time, but I truly cannot believe that my silly little blog has grown this big. Im so, so thankful for every single one of you! 🧡

So in honor of hitting 3.5k, I figured I’d think up some 3 word sentences and some 5 word sentences and then challenge myself to write some blurbs based around them. … That’s where y’all come in — I need you to send me some requests using the prompts I have listed below the cut!!

If you’re interested please make sure you include:

The character you’d like me to write it with — I only write for Tommy, John and Arthur

The sentence you’d like me to incorporate

If you’d like for it to take a certain tone (i.e fluff, angst, etc) — this is optional; I’ll happily surprise you!

Please only use 1 prompt per ask/request!! You can send in as many as you’d like though (the more, the merrier)!!

Anyone can join in and help me celebrate — anons are most certainly welcome!! Spread the word!!

Requests for these blurbs are CLOSED — you can find the masterlist for the celebration HERE!

My lovely fellow writers - if you’re looking for a challenge, you’re more than welcome to choose a prompt of your own and work you’re magic on it…I’d love to see what you create! 🧡

I can’t wait to write and share some blurbs with y’all!!

**please make sure to include the sentence you choose in your ask!! — I’ve numbered them in case you can’t pick and want to use a number generator to decide (or if you feel like doing that anyway 👀👀)

Three Word Sentence Prompts:

“Come to bed.”

“Let it go.”

“Stay right there.”

“Talk to me.”

“Please stop talking.”

“Close the door.”

“I love you.”

“What the fuck?”

“Don’t you dare.”

“Look at me.”

“Look at you.”

“Why right now?”

“Go to sleep.”

“I missed you.”

“I need you.”

“Happy or sad?” (I couldn’t resist it)

“Figure it out.”

“Kiss me, please.”

“How about no?”

“Yes or no?”

“Let me in.”

“I’m so happy.”

“You’re bleeding, (name).”

“Forget about it.”

“Honey, please stop.”

“Listen to me.”

“Listen to yourself.”

“How dare you.”

“Don’t say anything.”

“Then prove it.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“Say it again.”

“Are you jealous?”

“You look funny.”

Five Word Sentence Prompts:

“I don’t know how to.”

“You’re not listening to me.”

“Why did you say that?”

“Can you repeat that again?”

“Do you actually love me?”

“Say what you want to.”

“How did you do that?”

“Are you happy right now?”

“Forget I ever said that.”

“I just needed some quiet.”

“Isn’t it beautiful out here?”

“You look beautiful like that.”

“Why’re you looking at me?”

“Did you even miss me?”

“This time I mean it.”

“Please stay with me tonight.”

“You’re more fun to miss.”

“I can’t think of anything.”

“I like how that sounds.”

“Wouldn’t you want to know?”

“Who did this to you?”

“Do you know you’re bleeding?”

“I don’t want to go.”

“Will you just kiss me?”

“I guess I should go.”

“I’ll break before I bend.”

“I would wait for you.”

“I believe this is yours.”

“I know you want to.”

“You’re not hurt, are you?”

“Where do we go now?”

“Look at me right now.”

“Why are we here anyway?”

“I didn’t get your name.”

divider credit

[neewtmas]

Nightmares // Part II

A/N: this was so hard to write omg I struggled so bad with writer's block. I hated it pretty much all throughout the writing process, but now I think it might be not as bad as I thought. I hope everyone likes it! thanks to the anon for the request &lt;3

pairing: george karim x fem!reader

wordcount: 4k

request: hey bae, love your work i was wondering if i could request a pasty two to nightmares pretty please <333 maybe where reader starts going to hunt ghosts cause she’s fully trained and george just freaking out all the time !!! thanks so much - by anon

taglist: @maraschinomerry @marinalor @oblivious-idiot @lockwood-lover @givemea-dam-break

part I masterlist

"I want to become an agent."

The conversation around the dinner table died down immediately, and Lockwood, George and Lucy simultaneously turned to you.

"What?"

"I said, I want to become an agent", you repeated firmly, "I want you to train me so I can join you in the field."

"Y/N, I don't think that is a good -", George started, but Lockwood interrupted him immediately. "No, it's a great idea! We do need reinforcement. I thought about hiring another agent, but training you - that would be much easier."

George huffed, and you felt a pang in your chest. Did he think you weren't good enough? You thought back to a few days ago - when you spent the night in his bed, wrapped in his arms. Were you wrong to interpret this the way you did?

"George, she'll do just fine", Lucy said, and he sighed. "I don't doubt that, I just - I don't want you to get hurt, Y/N." His eyes met yours, and for a second you forgot how to breathe. The way he looked at you had your heart beating faster, and you reached over the table to where his hand laid on the wood. But in the last moment, your courage left you and so your hand came to rest right next to his, fingers almost touching.

"I know, but I just want to be able to defend myself. And I don't want a repeat of…", you trailed off, but the unsaid words hung heavy in the air. You and George hadn't talked about what exactly had happened that night, and your nightmares had mostly subsided, but you hadn't forgotten how you felt when you thought he was in danger. Lucy cleared her throat. "You know we're still here, right?" Your face flushed red and you pulled your hand off the table with lightning speed. "I just want to be more than a measly assistant. I have the talent, and I'm willing to train and do everything you ask of me."

Lockwood nodded, satisfied. "I'll write you a training plan. The only thing you need to learn is how to use a rapier. You've handled enough of our equipment to be sufficiently educated on that front, everything else you'll learn in the field."

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

The plan Lockwood had cooked up included daily training, rotating through all other members as training partners at least twice a week. That worked out for about three weeks, and then slowly but surely, George took over all your training sessions. You and Lucy always ended up joking around too much and your sessions mostly ended with you both lying on the floor together, talking about everything and nothing. The second time Lockwood had caught you on the floor, giggling to each other with your rapiers discarded in the corner, he had banned Lucy from teaching you. Training with Lockwood was usually more successful, but after a few weeks, he started ditching you so George had to pick up those sessions as well. You had a sneaking suspicion that this was Lucy's doing. Not that it was an issue in any way, on the contrary, you were more than happy to spend time with George.

After the one night you had spent in his bed, you hadn't dared to go back even though you still had nightmares now and then - not because you didn't want to, but because the whole situation was so confusing. Now more than ever, you were sure there was something between you, but you didn't know what it was and whether George felt the same. If you were honest with yourself and looked at everything without your rose-coloured glasses, his actions - no matter how fluttery they made you feel - could be categorized as purely friendly and platonic. Your feelings on the other hand were anything but platonic, but you weren't about to embarrass yourself by misreading any signals. Instead, you told yourself you were just fine with him being nothing more than your friend and training partner.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

“Are you ready?” George asked and offered you one of the practice rapiers from the stack in the corner. You nodded, taking it from him and wrapping your fingers around the cool metal of the handle. Since starting your training, you’d quickly become more proficient with the rapier and the way you managed to inflict some serious damage on Joe and Esmeralda was a far cry from the awkward stumbling around George had to watch in the beginning.

“We’re going to focus on your footwork today. You’re already doing well with your grip and upper body, but a good and light stance is equally important and you tend to be a little stiff.”

You blushed at his compliment and simultaneous critique and quickly moved into the middle of the room, getting into the standard position Lockwood had taught you in your very first lesson.

George followed you and mimicked your stance. You were acutely aware of how little distance was between you, even though the entire room was empty and George really didn’t have to stand that close. “Right. So this is your standard starting position. But, in an actual combat situation, your opponent, be it human or ghost, usually won’t be courteous enough to let you set up your ideal position first. You need to be able to apply all the maneuvres you learnt even if you don’t have a perfectly flat surface and time for preparation.”

You tried to listen closely as he elaborated on different techniques, but it didn’t take very long for your eyes to wander. You took in all the small details on his face, every single freckle, the way his dark lashes slightly curled upwards - “Are you listening to me?”

His gaze caught yours and you stared at him for a moment, wide-eyed and taken by surprise. “What?”

“I’m asking if you’re listening to me, Y/N” he repeated and you nodded quickly, hoping the dim light of the basement would conceal the blush burning on your cheeks. He looked at you for a moment, and you almost squirmed under how intense his gaze felt. The tension between you was palpable, but then he broke eye contact and resumed his explanations.

All of the training sessions went something like this. George would explain something and, at some point, drift off into a tangent that you gladly listened to - though it was more looking than listening if you were honest.

But sometimes, he would also explain certain moves more hands-on, and that's when you were really in trouble. Him standing close to you was one thing, but him adjusting your grip with his hands on yours, or worse, him reaching around you to demonstrate the way the rapier was supposed to move was an entirely different thing. Feeling him pressed up against your back, with his arms around you and his hands on yours had your heart beating out of your chest and made it hard to focus on anything else. When he stepped back and waited for you to perform the moves he just showed you by yourself, more often than not you were far too flustered to do so. Which just meant he'd show you again, making everything worse.

It drove you crazy that he could make you feel this way with just a single innocent touch. It shouldn't be this way. Yes, he had let you sleep in his bed that one night, and maybe you weren't entirely delusional to think that it meant something, but you were still just friends.

On the other hand, Lockwood had never hugged you for the sake of explaining fencing moves to you. Lockwood had never let you sleep in his bed. Yet that was what he would do for Lucy and you know how he felt about her.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘ Several weeks later ⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

You stood in the dimly lit basement, breathing heavily as you lowered your rapier until its tip scraped over the concrete floor. Esmeralda, the straw doll, was swinging back and forth, and you turned to your three colleagues who stood by the wall, watching you. The pieces of straw you had whacked out of Esmeralda crunched under your boots as you walked over to the rack to put the rapier away. George offered you a glass of water and you took a sip while looking at Lockwood expectantly.

He had his arms crossed, a solemn expression on his face, and for a moment you were scared, but then he couldn't hold back his smile any longer.

"Congrats Y/N, you did very well. I'd love to welcome you to Lockwood & Co in the position of a field agent."

"Really?!" He nodded, but you weren't even looking at him anymore. Instead, you leapt over to a surprised George, who opened his arms just in time to catch you as you threw your arms around him and hugged him tightly. He took a few seconds to recuperate, then his hands came to rest on your lower back. "Thank you", you whispered in his ear. Lockwood cleared his throat and you quickly stepped back, remembering that he and Lucy stood right next to you. In your peripheral, you could see George scratch the back of his neck, eyes focused on his feet.

"As I was saying", Lockwood continued with a raised eyebrow, "you can now join us in the field. If you want, we can go get you a rapier right now so you don't have to use one of the practice ones."

You nodded, doing your best to stay composed and not just jump up and down with giddiness. Finally, you had the chance to prove yourself as an agent. Never again did you want to be in a situation where the people closest to you were in danger yet you couldn't help them. You refused to ever feel that weak and useless again.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

That evening you left 35 Portland Row with a spring in your step, your brand-new rapier securely at your side, and your hand resting on top of it. Lockwood had made sure that tonight's case would be a simple one for you to get accustomed to what working as an agent meant.

When you climbed out of the cab 20 minutes later, the house towered over you, the setting sun behind it. A cold shiver ran down your back as you realised there was no backing down now, no matter what awaited you behind the dark, wooden door. George walked past you, hand brushing past your fingers so briefly that you wondered if it even happened. He gave you an encouraging smile as he grabbed your bag to carry it up to the house. You took a deep breath and followed him.

The door closed behind you, and for a moment, everything was quiet. "This is usually where you get your first impressions", Lucy whispered, standing next to you with closed eyes. "I'm not getting anything right now, but it's always good to try in case there is something." "Make sure to do it inside the house though", Lockwood added. "Never linger on the threshold."

You watched them carefully as they set up in the kitchen, George making tea, Lockwood and Lucy going through the bags and setting the equipment out on the table. George gave you the first cup of tea he poured and you sat down, looking at your reflection in the amber liquid in front of you. You weren't sure how you felt. A part of you still felt excited, but a much bigger part was growing anxious over what was waiting for you.

"It's seven now, and the sun is gone, so we'll get started on exploring the house", Lockwood said after taking a sip from his tea. "Y/N, since this is your first case you can choose who you want to pair up with."

Without thinking, you immediately looked over to George. "Is that okay?" you trailed off questioningly and he gave you a soft smile. "Of course, always." You smiled back, warmth spreading in your chest. Lucy, who sat next to you, mumbled something under her breath but you didn't quite catch it. "Well then let's go. George and Y/N, you'll go upstairs, we stay down here. Report back when you're done."

Silently, you watched as they put on their belts stuffed with salt bombs, matches, candles and silver nets. You knew those very well, you had refilled them more times than you could count. But you had never worn one, the weight on your shoulder feeling foreign as you stuffed some more salt bombs in the pockets of your jacket just for good measure. Lockwood patted your shoulder and Lucy gave you a thumbs up before they left the kitchen and then you were alone with George. "Do you feel ready?", he asked and you looked around the kitchen. In the warm light of the oil lamp, it looked cosy and homely. In contrast to that the rest of the house seemed cold and dark. "Yes", you replied.

You left the kitchen and turned right where, at the end of the hallway, a narrow staircase lead up to the second floor. Your eyes took a moment to adjust to the darkness, but slowly you could make out more and more of your surroundings as you followed George down the hallway. The plush carpet muffled the sounds of your steps, and you moved your hand to rest on your rapier, immediately feeling better. There was no reason to be scared.

A while later, you met back in the kitchen to report your findings, which weren't many. George had shown you how to take the temperature in every room so that was something you could do now, and you had also tried to use your talent of touch but had come up empty.

Lockwood made the second round of tea, and you noticed how this time, Lucy got the first cup. They had much more to tell as they had located the most probable location for the source somewhere in the downstairs office. "It was really cold in there", Lucy said, hands wrapped around her steaming cup of tea. "Much colder than it should have been, based on the time." You stayed in the kitchen for a while, before you gathered your chains and moved over to the office about an hour before midnight.

After you watched them set up, keeping close to the door yourself to not get in the way, the four of you gathered inside the iron circle. The room was dark, the moonlight pouring in through the two windows not doing much. You felt the urge to switch on the flashlight you had strapped to your belt but knew that it would just make it worse. Instead, you tried your best to make out the outlines of the furniture around you. The walls were lined with bookshelves that reached up to the ceiling, and every compartment looked to be stuffed with books, stacks of paper, and other things you couldn't quite identify in the dark even though you stood so close.

The only thing that was clearly visible was a large desk by the window, the polished wood lightly reflecting the little moonlight the clouds let through. You stood side by side with George, shoulders touching slightly. You wished you were even closer. When you shifted your weight over to the other foot, your hand accidentally brushed against his and you drew a sharp breath. You didn't dare to look over at him when suddenly you felt his hand slip into yours. Now you were thankful to the dark for hiding your blush and hoped he wouldn't be able to hear the way your heart was beating erratically. Your fingers intertwined and then you stood there, shoulder to shoulder, and the anxiety that had been growing in you since you stepped into the room somewhat subsided.

The temperature had dropped quickly, and you shivered slightly, now glad that you brought a jacket. Suddenly, George squeezed your hand and when you looked at him, he slightly nodded over to the far corner, where you could see fog gathering and swirling over the floorboards. You watched the white whisps travel higher until they formed something that resembled a human form. Sight wasn't your thing, so you couldn't make out any details but what you were seeing was enough.

"We wait a little longer and then I'll go out", Lockwood whispered, eyes trained on the shape that was slowly floating closer. "Luce, you'll search for the source, and Y/N and George, you back her up." He drew his rapier in a swift and effortless motion, waited another few seconds until the apparition had reached the middle of the room and then stepped over the chain. The apparition immediately glowed brighter, seemingly noticing him and he moved forward, rapier moving through the air so quickly that you almost got dizzy watching him. Seeing that made you painfully aware of how much of a beginner you still were.

Lucy hurried out of the circle as well, choosing to go around the desk to not alert the ghost of her presence and you wanted to follow her, but George pulled you back. "Let's stay here for a moment", he whispered, hand still holding yours. You nodded, watching Lucy kneel on the floor and rummage through the stacks of books and papers. Lockwood was still working on keeping the ghost in check, but you could tell by the way the temperature had dropped further and the papers on the shelves were rustling in the wind that the apparition had gained strength.

"You stay here," George said hastily before he pulled out his rapier and joined Lockwood. You stood for a moment, helplessly watching the scene unfold in front of you. "Y/N!" Lucy called over to you, motioning you to come, and without thinking you left the safety of the iron circle and ran over to her. "The source must be somewhere around here", she said, "I think it's one of the books."

You looked over your shoulder briefly to see Lockwood and George still busy with the ghost whose shape was now so clear that you could make out little details in its clothes. You started ripping out books from the lowest compartment. "What are we looking for exactly?", you asked, your breath white in front of you in the cold of the room. "I have no idea, but you'll notice when you find it" Lucy replied, raising her voice over the increasing wind that was now strong enough to pick up some of the paper stuffed into the shelves. You got up, starting to pull out books from the higher compartments, unceremoniously dropping them behind you. About 30 seconds later Lucy yelled. "I think I got it! Salt bombs, Lockwood!"

Suddenly everything happened very quickly. Behind you, the room exploded into white light, and you squeezed your eyes shut at the sudden brightness, stumbling back and right into the books you had just dropped. You could feel yourself losing balance and with flailing arms, you fell. You braced for an impact that never came, instead, arms wrapped around your midsection and stopped your fall. You slowly opened your eyes and turned your head to find George behind you. You tried your best to ignore the way he was holding onto you and to find your footing again. When you stood securely, he slowly lowered his arms and you immediately missed his touch. "Are you okay?" he asked. You nodded and were just about to say something when he looked up and behind you, shock overtaking his expression.

You tried to turn around but were pushed back as he threw himself against you, making you stumble again. This time you didn't fall, instead your back hit the wall next to the shelf, forcing the air out of your lungs. George was pressed up against you, and behind him, several thick stacks of papers and documents tumbled out of the shelf and hit the ground right where you stood a few seconds ago. But you didn't even notice, because all you could think about was how close he was, chest against yours, faces just inches from each other and somehow his hand had found yours again. You stared at each other, and you swore his eyes dropped down to your lips for a second before he took a step back, letting go of your hand and clearing his throat. "Are you okay?", he asked, pushing his glasses up his nose, voice sounding a little unsteady. You just nodded, feeling too overwhelmed to get out even a single word.

The office was a mess, papers and books everywhere, all covered in the salt that crunched under the sole of your shoes as you made a few wobbly steps forward. "Well, that's what I call a success", Lockwood exclaimed, wiping off some imaginary dust from his coat. As usual, he seemed unfazed by the chaos around him.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

Packing up didn't take long, and soon you were back in 35 Portland Row, where George immediately set the kettle on the stove for the next round of tea. Lockwood and Lucy soon excused themselves to their respective rooms, so then it was just you and George left.

You sat at the table, feeling tired now that the adrenaline had worn off, and you watched George making and pouring the tea. You liked watching him in the kitchen because he seemed so relaxed and always like he knew exactly what he was doing. He carried the two steaming cups over to the table and sat down in the chair next to you.

For a while, you sat in comfortable silence, sipping on your tea. Every now and then, you allowed your gaze to wander over to him before quickly looking away again in hopes he wouldn't catch you.

"Do you still have nightmares?", he broke the silence.

You looked at him, surprised by the question. "A few", you hesitantly answered. "Every now and then. Why?"

He was quiet for a while, staring down at his hands that fidgeted with the teaspoon. "Because you didn't come back to my room. I was wondering if that's because you just didn't have nightmares anymore or because you didn't want to. Guess I have my answer."

"Oh." You tried to search for the right words. "But - I wanted to, George. Every night. I didn't because I wasn't sure how you felt about it."

He turned to you. "Are you kidding? I thought I made it very clear how I felt about it. How I felt about you", he added, much more quietly.

You bit your lip. "How you feel about me?", you repeated breathlessly, words threatening to get stuck in your throat.

He reached over to take your hand. "Can I maybe try something?", he asked, and you nodded, heart beating out of your chest from the way he looked at you in the dim, warm light.

He leaned forward slightly, the hand that wasn't holding yours coming up to rest on your cheek as he pulled you in gently. Your eyes fluttered shut just as his lips met yours in a soft kiss. When he pulled away, you slowly opened your eyes again to find him already looking at you, with a smile so full of love that you felt even more dizzy than the kiss had left you. His thumb rubbed over the back of your hand.

"That's how I feel about you."

thanks for reading, feedback is appreciated :))

[pugwitharug]

Hello! I really want to make a last legacy request, my LL OC is chubby/fat but I'm not real good to explain how the m4 would react to MC being self conscious/uncomfortable in their body.

(ignore the fact that I've had this in my inbox since literally Christmas--)

(by god I will pull myself out of my writing burnout if it's the last thing I ever do--)

Don't you worry my sweet anon, I got you covered

Content Warning: Mentions of negative body image, no specifics on what their body actually looks like

GN Reader, oof this may be really out of character but we're gonna do it anyways, some hurt and lot of comfort, the one thing all the LIs know how to do is give you love

Felix Iskandar Escellun

Felix isn't one for vanity, but he is one for the gothic aesthetic, so you bet he has one of those huge standing mirrors with the most ornate gold-leafed steel frame next to his wardrobe

It's one of the many gorgeous things in his room (not including him heheheheheheh) and it's something you find yourself staring at a lot

You normally do your best to not look at the actual mirror part, but today, your eyes seem drawn towards your body. You're not wearing anything revealing, your fashion style is more conservative by Earth's standards, but you focus a lot on the parts of your body you hate

Your own eyes feel like claws, rending bleeding wounds through your skin. Voices crawl into the back of your head. Ugly. Disgusting. Unlovable. They're hard to block out

You wrap your arms around your stomach, tears stinging the back of your eyes, and you find yourself unable to tear away from the mirror. As gorgeous as the mirror is, in this moment, you want to smash it into pieces

It's now when Felix walks in and sees you shaking in front of the mirror, the tears now starting to roll down your cheeks. He rushes over to you and pulls his cloak off, throwing it over the mirror and pulling you out of your stupor

Once he's sure the mirror is fully covered, he hugs you tightly, rubbing small circles on your back. He whispers comforting words in your ear, refuting everything the voices in your head are saying as if he can hear them himself

It's sort of true, for him. There were times where he felt disgusted by his body, feeling like he's an imposter in a dead person's body. He knows what you're feeling, and he hates that you feel that way about yourself

If he could take all those feelings out, he would. But for now, he's here to help and tell you how much he loves you

Anisa Anka

Being with Anisa has taught you that she can be strong with her opinions about you. Specifically, all the good opinions she has about you

She knows about your self-image issues, and she doesn't blame you for having them!

.....okay, that sounds a little wrong. She doesn't think that you're being dumb or irrational for having those thoughts. Your feelings are valid, and she's here to help you with that

Case in point: the two of you are doing some shopping through the town. Anisa has a free day, and the two of you just wanted to walk around town and see if anything catches your eye

You walk past a fancy dress shop and stop at the window to gawk at the newest dress. It's a gorgeous baby blue color, with white trim and pleating. It's a dress that you would die to have

As you're imagining yourself wearing the dress, your eyes flick over to your reflection in the mirror, and your dreams slowly begin to shatter. Compared to the beauty that is Anisa and the gorgeous dress, how dare you stand next to them. How dare you think you belong in the same space as them

You look away from the window and start to walk away, heart heavy with regret. Anisa notices and gently grabs your wrist, asking what's wrong

There's nothing wrong, you say. You're just ready to move on

Of course, Anisa knows you better than that. She grabs both of your hands and squeezes them comfortingly, reassuring you that those thoughts in your head? Garbage. And you know where they belong? In the trash, out of your fantastic brain and gorgeous body

And by the gods, she's gonna see you in that dress, and she's gonna see you smile

Sage Lesath

Sage never really had body image issues, to be honest. All of the negative feelings he's had about himself are about his actual self, not about his physical body. That being said, he absolutely understand having those negative thoughts about yourself

One of the main ways those negative thoughts materialize in real life is that you always wear pajamas to go to sleep. Full pants and mostly long-sleeve shirts, only wearing short-sleeves if it's really hot. It's in large contrast to Sage's underwear-only sleep style

He's asked a couple times if you ever wanted to try something like a nightgown or wearing shorts, but you've always turned them down. Since it was clear you weren't comfortable with those ideas, he's left you and your sleepwear choices be

One night, you're both getting ready to sleep. He's taking off his clothes, you're putting yours on--or, at least, you're trying to. For some reason, you can't find your last clean pair of pajamas

Did you accidentally put it in the dirty laundry? You rifle through the dirty clothes, scrunching up your nose a little, but you can't find them

Were they shoved into the back of the closet? You get on your tiptoes and feel all against the wooden back, but you can't feel them

At this point, you start to get a little frantic. You need those pajamas. You can't just sleep without them. If you don't, you'll feel your body, Sage will feel your body. Your actual body, your actual skin. Oh, how disgusted he will be

Sage asks you what's wrong, and you try to collect yourself and explain that you can't find your pajamas, but you can't stop the tears from coming and your voice from breaking. Your arms instinctively wrap around yourself, trying to hide from his worried view

He reaches out and pulls you up against him, tucking your head into the crook of his neck. His soft hair tickles your nose as he whispers reassurances in your ear

He doesn't entirely understand how you can hate such a gorgeous and divine body like yours, but he's here for you nonetheless. Whatever you want him to do to make you comfortable, he will do it, and he will show you his love in his own way

Mainly through worship. He's a worshipper. We all know this

Rime Solano Varela

I'm gonna be honest, I don't think he really cares about your body like that. He cares about you, of course, but he doesn't give that much thought into what you look like. He's more interested in who you are as a person

Even so, he does understand wanting to feel comfortable in your own skin. He wears what he does because it gives the small sensation of being comfortable, and so he wants that for you too

One day, you're doing some spring cleaning around the house and are clearing out your shared closet. You're pulling out your clothes that you don't wear anymore to put in a donate pile to give it to people less fortunate than you

You're separating your Astraea-bought clothes from your Earth-bought clothes, not entirely sure if you can give away your Earth clothes, when your eyes catch one of the tags on your shirt. There's at least three letters on there, and most of them are X's

You look at all of your Earth shirts. All of them say the same thing. All of them have those damn X's and L's. No M's or S's in sight

Compared to Rime's clothes, which better fit his smaller body, yours look...grotesque. They clearly don't belong here. You clearly don't belong here

You grab all your clothes and throw them as far as you can in a fit of rage that fizzles out into sadness. You stand there, shaking, eyes welling up with tears, stuck where you are with the voices in the back of your head

Hearing the commotion, Rime comes in to check on you. Seeing the clothes strewn about, you standing still in the middle of the room, and knowing your struggles with your body image, it isn't hard for him to piece together what happened

He says your name as he walks over to you, and you don't even get to look over at him before he claps both his hands on your cheeks. As you're trying to recover from the shock, he starts talking

He really doesn't give a shit about what you look like, or what clothes you wear. They're insignificant. Literally just pieces of fabric. The only thing he cares about is you, and you need to start doing that too

His normally icy expression softens as he takes a deep breath, trying to switch gears a little. He just wants you to be comfortable in your own body, and he knows it's easier said than done, but he wants to help you

So let's not focus on what you have and go get something you like, okay? He doesn't know how much longer he can stand seeing you look at yourself like that

[jtl07]

I love that you also try to write things that you arent familiar with to stretch your writing muscles. My prompt would be a mix of fluff and hurt/comfort (or just fluff if thats what you want, I wont complain, I love fluff lol): Avatrice with Ava coming out to Beatrice as genderqueer/genderfluid with Bea reassuring Ava and being supportive, and maybe a while later going shopping with Ava for new clothes or just in another way just being supportive, maybe asking Ava what language/pronouns/terms of affection would feel more comfortable.

hope this works anon - gender and clothing is still something i'm pondering through myself

"it's kinda silly, don't you think?" Ava says as she holds up a shirt to her chest. she tilts her head side to said as she looks at herself in the mirror.

Beatrice raises her eyebrow, accepts the shirt into the pile building in her arms. "i'm afraid you'll have to be a bit specific."

Ava sighs - but it's the way it edges into a growl that makes Beatrice watch her a little more closely. eventually, Ava pulls out another shirt from her still overflowing basket. "so like this one right, it's labeled for dudes. but like, so what? wouldn't it make sense to just group everything by color instead?"

she grabs another shirt, this one more with a dizzying print. "and see, this one was in the girls section but like, how dare they keep this from dudes. they should have a chance to wear something like this too, yknow?"

"that would be interesting," Beatrice says slowly, walking what she thinks is the path of Ava's thoughts, "if there were a store where clothes are organized by color and cut. then people would just look at things objectively."

"not just that, but like, how it makes you feel!" a frustrated furrow appears on Ava's brow. "clothes should make you feel good, yknow? but we get so caught up on the labels for things. this is for girls and this is for dudes - what about the people who don't give a fuck? who think they're both? or just don't know?" she throws her hands up in the air and so too go the shirts.

Beatrice catches them without looking, without breaking her gaze on Ava. watches her take a deep shuddering breath; watches her shoulders fall. "i'm sorry, that was - i don't know where that came from."

Beatrice sets down the pile of clothes in her arms onto a chair. steps forward slowly, reaching out her hand. Ava takes it, twines their fingers together.

"it sounds like you've been holding onto that for a while," Beatrice says softly.

Ava shrugs. "i guess." sighs again. "i don't know."

"that's okay," Beatrice says as she gives Ava's hand a gentle squeeze. "you don't have to know." tugs at her, more a suggestion than a command. sighs when Ava allows herself to be pulled in, presses a prayer of gratitude into Ava's temple: "i love you just the same." amends her statement with her next breath: "more, even."

she feels Ava sink into the embrace, burrowing into her shoulder like she always does when her feelings get too much. Beatrice doesn't mind. she wraps her arms around Ava and closes her eyes; they have time.

[nerves-nebula]

Trigger warning for Donnie’s suicide note!

—

Leo finds out last.

She’s at the apartment, unloading the groceries she’d just gotten home from buying. They had a bit of excess food money this month, so she’d splurged and bought some special treats for herself and her brothers. She knew Mikey loved those gross sticky gummy candies, so she’d bought a huge family size pack of them just for him. Raph tended to forget to eat when he was in a hurry, so she’d picked up some meal supplement bars that she’d make sure to sneak into his backpack. Donnie, she’d spent some extra time thinking about. His texture issues made buying food for him harder, but she’d eventually settled on a box of water flavor packets that had some great nutritional stuff in it. Hopefully Donnie would like it, and if not she would just dare Raph to drink the packets raw.

She didn’t hear her phone ring from the table, too busy with her task. She couldn’t the stuff that needed to be refrigerated go bad.

As she finished she gave a twirl, feeling free in her new dress. Of all people, Casey had found it for her! It had tons of ruffles in the skirt that made it super poofy and felt so soft against her skin.

She took out the recycling while she was at it.

When she got back to the apartment it took her an extra ten minutes to remember where she’d put down her phone. When she finally found it anxiety spiked in her chest.

Fifteen missed calls.

Thirty-two texts from Mikey.

Ten texts from Raph.

Forty-six texts from April.

Seven texts from Casey.

One text from Donnie.

She opened the backlog.

Donathan💜👓: Hey, I left something on your bedside table. Grab it when you can, okay? Love you.

She frowned. The message was weird. She could count the number of times they’d texted “I love you” on one hand, and she only had three fingers! She made her way towards her room as she went and opened up the rest of the messages.

Sewer Bigfoot🏒: dude call raph

Sewer Bigfoot🏒: smthn bad happened with don

Sewer Bigfoot🏒: pls answer ur phone man

Sewer Bigfoot🏒: raph needs u 2 get all dons paperwork stuff

Sewer Bigfoot🏒: were at the hidden city main hospital

Sewer Bigfoot🏒: call when you can

Sewer Bigfoot🏒: im so sorry

Alright, now she was getting scared. She got to her room and immediately found what Donnie had left. A piece of paper, folded in perfect thirds. She had bought him this cardstock for Christmas. He only used it for things he thought were of the utmost importance.

“Leonardo,

I want to apologize to you. We made a promise to each other, a goofy promise, but a promise nonetheless. I’m going to break that promise.

I’m really proud of how you’ve grown. You’ve become one of my favorite people in the world, despite everything. You are strong and brave and you’ve learned how to love with your whole heart. I know you’ll grow and do amazing things.

Mikey and Raph have grown, too. Mikey’s art is going to take off in the Hidden City, I just know it, and Raph has the potential to do anything he sets his mind to. Gosh, I sound like I kindergarten teacher, but it’s true. I couldn’t be more proud of my family.

But I’m holding you back. I haven’t grown. If anything, I’m regressing. I can’t see a future for me where I do anything but hurt or hinder you, and I never want to do that. I want you to be free to live without the restraint of caring for a useless burden of a brother.

So I’m taking myself out of the equation.

I know it’s unfair of me to ask you to understand my reasoning. I know its unfair to ask you not to be sad or to not grieve.

I just hope one day you’ll understand.

Please don’t follow me.

Your brother always,

Donatello.”

Leo called Raph.

——

Yay! If you like it I’ll write everyone else’s perspectives, too.

-Monster Anon

*in tears* UM. OW???? I'M SUPPOSED TO BE THE ONE MANIACALLY CACKLING WHILE THROWING ANGST AT YOU GUYS??? WhaT thE Hell??

anyway I was thinking of how donnie would try to kill himself and I thought of him and his brothers joking around and Leo being like "Remember when you got so upset you turned yourself into a monster for like a week??" and Donnie laughing and saying "Yeah, b-b-but in my defense I've l-learned from my p-past! I only drink p-poison when I know ex-exactly what it'll do!" and they all laugh and Donnie is just sitting there like: They Dont Know I'm Going To Mystically Poison Myself :)

[anzynai]

Hey! I’m so happy to see that a tkl writer is into TWST! There are barley any fics and hcs on here and I’m STARVING! If you’re taking requests can you please write some hcs for the dorm leaders? Thanks!

Housewarden Tk Headcanons (Twisted Wonderland)

HELLO!!!! my requests are closed so normally i would have to decline this ask.. but i guess it’s ur lucky day anon because i’m actually obsessed with twst and this is my first request from this fandom so… enjoy! i love all these losers so there’s gonna be a good amount of hcs in this post LOL i’ll count it when i’m finished!! HELP MEEE THERE ARE 63 HEADCANONS. um, you’re welcome i guess this took 4ever!

also it sometimes makes me laugh when i put really serious and cool photos for my headcanons and then it’s just silly little tickling but uh. yes.

Riddle Rosehearts

hello so goldfishie is at least like a 7 on the scale. his worst spots: uhhh his neck (IDK I THINK IT SUITS HIM) and his sides!!

who tickles him the most? let’s see. floyd and trey are tied. but occasionally, if duece and ace see trey tickling riddle, they’ll join in as well.

it’s kinda funny when he’s tickled bc he gets angry (even when he’s enjoying it) so he’ll be like “let go of me this instant” and be disappointed when they actually do. however, he has too much pride to admit he didn’t actually want them to stop.

though he doesn’t always like being tickled. like, floyd has a habit of just tickling people whenever he feels like it no matter the time and place, which sometimes puts riddle into incredibly awkward and embarrassing situations.

he bites his lip to conceal his laughter but it’s like a river cuz the second a giggle slips out and it will, it’s over. he’s dead, he’s dying.

u know those people who want to retaliate so so bad, but they don’t dare think of it because they KNOW that they would receive it back tenfold?? well maybe that’s a little specific so u might not know people like that BUT RIDDLE IS LIKE THAT

but bro just needs more confidence bc the times he has tickled someone, he becomes an absolutely menace. he somehow has some kind of instinct for the best spots.

he can’t really tease all that well unless he’s really in the mood cuz he gets flustered hshghshs

Leona Kingscholar

sometimes this dude is like too lazy for tickles????? so this doesn’t happen too too often (but it does)

I GIVE HIM A 6!!!! his worst spots: hips and ribs (more hips thooo)

ruggie likes to tickle him to get him to wake up basically bc this dude will not get up for ANYTHING and most people don’t tickle him besides ruggie because who would dare??? anyways, once ruggie gets to his hips, he’s gone.

IDKKK I FEEL LIKE HE WOULD GET SOOO EMBARRASSED by tickling like that’s one of the only times u will see his face bright red, though he tries to hide it like he will look anywhere but at u lol

kinda scary if he gets u back tho cuz bro has no shame. all he cares about if that u are thoroughly wrecked. (this fact does not work well in ruggie’s favor, but how else is he supposed to get leona to wake up?)

he is a bit on the tougher side when tickling but never enough to actually hurt you

and somehow he’s a deadly teaser and knows how to hit it where it hurts?? flusters???? IDK sometimes it feels like he can read ur mind and know exactly what will incite the best reactions out of u and uses that to his advantage while he’s tickling u to death

his favorite thing about tickling is honestly getting to see the reactions on his victims face LOLLLL

Azul Ashengrotto

hi azul ashengrotto is my fav ever and that’s irrevelevanf but u should know anyway also he’s an 8 tbh on the ticklishness scale. (if i had my way, it would be 11/10 but i just can’t lie to myself)

his worst spot: HIS TUMMY AND HIS SIDES??? generic, i know. he hates it, because it’s the go-to spot and so right off the bat EVERYONE who ever tickles him knows his worst spot

he lowkey hates this laugh (no he doesn’t, he’s just embarrassed) cuz he snorts and like??? this sly, cunning businessman.. don’t tell me he… snorts when tickled..? wait he’s ticklish? YES HE IS AND YES HE DOES and he is so embarrassed by it

i feel like he probably would write a contract to keep someone from revealing his secret. that would be funny.

floyd and jade know and they’re ALWAYS using it against him. it’s like their main method of annoying him cuz what better way to mess with their boss than tickling?? well, they also use it for cheer up tickles mostly when he’s feeling self-conscious.

bros the type to like.. cover his mouth to try and hide his laugh. he’s not fooling anyone, everyone can hear his concealed laughter. it’s really easy to get his hands to move anyway, because if u get his worst spots, or occasionally armpits, he will be too busy trying to pry ur hands away lol but his face gets pretty red

he’s a sweet ler tbh i feel like he gives gentle tickles and never pushes the lee too far yk? like since i imagine him being really good at reading people, he will be observing their reactions the whole time so he can tell when they’re nearing their limit

that said, he’s a pretty mean teaser. he builds it up so u think it’s not bad at first but somewhere along the lines, he manages to say the most embarrassing things with no shame. “i guess it’s fitting for someone so adorable to be so ticklish.”

he tickles floyd and jade sometimes. sometimes when he’s in a bad mood, he takes it out on them by tickling them. again, never going too far tho.

he’s also the type to like gently and quickly scribble someone on their back or neck.. or poke them in the side as he’s walking by or if he’s trying to get their attention? ofc he only does this with close friends (and jamil bc my azujami heart can’t help it)

ANOTHER AZUJAMI HC BUT TICKLE HUGS AS THEY CUDDLE

Kalim Al-Asim

bros def a 9… 9.5??? SOMEHWEEE ALONG THOSE LINES. anyways, he’s very ticklish.

worst spots: def his chin and his thighs.

ALSO IDK I FEEL LIKE EVERYONE CAN TELL BUT HE DEF LOVES TICKLING. he likes being tickled, he likes to tickle, just he’s like “it’s a fun way to bond with friends”

if only jamil could agree. kalim jumps him and ambushed him with tickles. but it’s fine, because jamil absolutely wrecks him when kalim isn’t behaving or is being lazy. (why are kalim and leona so similar aka don’t wanna do shit sorry that’s mean but am i wrong)

kalim has a really loud laugh but it’s very distinct compared to his regular laugh, which is also very loud. many times, his laugh can be heard throughout the dorm and the students just sigh cuz they know what’s going on.

also i feel like kalim would be the type where after being absolutely destroyed, he’d be breathless and struggling to catch his breath and still be super energetic and all like “wow you got me good!!!”

can i say kalim sneak attacks???? like esp with jamil, but all of his friends always fear the wrath of kalim because they could be doing literally ANYTHING but he just pounces and tickles them whenever they least expect it

while most times he is pretty caring when tickling someone, there are times he gets to wrapped up in it and goes a bit overboard and someone has to stop him. afterwards, he feels super guilty so he will shower u with aftercare, hugging you and apologizing nonstop, offering snacks, you name it.

his tickles tend to be on the rougher side but not enough up hurt. it used to, but after realizing that some people don’t like it like that, he eases up a bit. since i said before that he sees tickling as a bonding activity, he wants to make sure that everyone’s having fun.

Vil Schoenheit

sorry i love vil he is so so pretty UHH BUT I THINK IM GONNA GIVE HIM A 4. idk i just can’t see him as all that ticklish.

unless….. UNLESS U GET HIS RIBS. the shrieks he lets out if u get him there are actually insane

rook is actually the most devious and feared tickle monster in all of NRC (REAL, NOT LYING) and unfortunately, vil is one of the people who suffers the most from his tickly endeavors. and sometimes it’s a bad thing and sometimes it’s a good thing.

first of all, vil isn’t all that embarrassed about being ticklish. now, that doesn’t mean he wants the whole world to know. he’s alright with being tickled or tickling someone as long as it’s in a private space.

he still blushes like a hyena tho (i don’t think that’s an actual simile but for some reason it was the first thing that popped up in my mind so it’s staying) but he will still be like “if you’re going to do it, just get it over with…” meanwhile his heart is pounding

expectantly, i mean who would have ever guessed, vil has the most graceful, beautiful, angelic, harmonic laughter anyone who’s tickled him has had the honor of hearing. it’s like a reward, not to mention the fact that sometimes it can be difficult to find spots that make him laugh. after all, most generic spots like his sides, can only incite a huff maybe?

he is like scarily good at keeping still while being tickled (the other housewardens could never). umm so any “keep your arms up” games that go on, he’s probably going to win LOL

pretty good ler but doesn’t do it too often. really only rook and epel, sometimes he thinks it’s a bit childish (even if he enjoys it)

BUT BUT BUT when he was training epel with etiquette, he would like scribble on epels back to get him to stand straight or yk just things along those lines. and for rook, he just goes crazy. (somehow he still manages to look gorgeous while doing it)

surprisingly gentle tickler, honestly it’s crazy. sometimes it feels like he isn’t even touching u with how light it is, which honestly just makes it worse because he makes u anticipating (i have no idea how to word this) yet still giggling and laughing lol

Idia Shroud

oh shit, this man. he’s so. 10.

he’s so extremely ticklish. like everywhere. except for his feet and neck. yay, the two spots people barely go for when he’s being attacked. like yeah, for the neck maybe a little scratch or scribble here and there but when he’s being wrecked, that’s not where people tend to tickle him.. how lucky.

blushy boy. his hair is red his face is red his ears are red. he wouldn’t even be as flustered if he was.. A LITTLE LESS SENSITIVE??? but when he’s laughing like a hyena (is this where i got the simile for the other one) he can’t help but feel ashamed

he loves it tho like i can tell u idia shroud loves being tickled and while he would never say it, everyone and i mean everyone knows. well, everyone who’s tickled him. i mean, he never tells them to stop. of course, it can’t go on for too long or he will start feeling uncomfortable but just the right amount will have him eating it up EVERY TIME.

bro def squeals tbh while like curling up

who’s that btw? the people who tickle him? let’s see: ortho (ofc, little bro always loves seeing his brother happy) and azul on occasion (when he’s feeling like a sore loser after a game he lost).. well this doesn’t make everyone a lot of people now taht i think about it. BUT MY POINT STILL STANDS

how could someone live being so flustered by tickling. yk those ppl in the community who struggle to say the word tickle? that’s him. idia shroud reads tickle fics!!…. okay maybe not, but he definitely blushes at the word “tickle”

he gets embarrassed tickling people back. unlike vil who rarely does because it’s “undignified”, he doesn’t it too because he’s too embarrassed. he’s never tickled azul (he wants to tho i swear) and he can’t tickle ortho because when programming ortho, he didn’t really have tickling in mind so obviously, he didn’t add anything like that in (he should tho and give ortho have a taste of his own medicine)

i feel like he would be an awkward tickler who slowly turns sadistic the more confident he gets, esp with the teasing. “hehehe, you’re a lot more ticklish than i thought. this is nice.” with a somewhat terrifying grin on his face

Malleus Draconia

i think i’d like to give him a 2 but when lilia is tickling him, it’s a 5? idk he’s not super ticklish and doesn’t get tickled often. also lilia has some kinda power that makes his ticklishness switch.. not really. he doesn’t know how it works either.

LILIA STILL LOVES TICKLING HIM THO and occasionally silver will join in if he’s not sleeping lol and sebek wouldn’t dare (even tho he wants to so so badly)

i think malleus has these super breathy buffs and giggles that are honestly so. just… damn. just wow. idk while they’re not the giggles most people would expect, it’s the kind of laugh that makes u want to keep doing it.

he lets u tickle him (as long as ur not some rando like y’all gotta be friends obv) but he doesn’t mind when lilia decides to tickle him

teases aren’t all that flustering to him either i feel like he would be the type to agree tbh. like lilia says “ur quite the ticklish boy aren’t you” and malleus is like “haha you’re right”

sweet ler, thinks it’s fun. he thinks u think it’s fun too. idk he just wants to have fun and he likes hearing people laugh and seeing them smile, but stops if they’re not enjoying it. also he is a gentle tickler.

honestly i feel like he wants to be in a tickle fight so bad but doesn’t because people are scared of him and that’s silly. idk lilia provides him with a lot of tickles and lilia lets him tickle him too if he’s feeling it, so he’s not all too down about it. he’s occasionally tickled even silver and sebek too (much to their embarrassment)

he doesn’t really tease he just smiles and it’s really cute and it makes u want to let him keep tickling u cuz he looks so happy which is just contagious and yes.

[webbo0]

It's a shame that Stay didn't get more a fandom. What do you love about Henry? I wanna know your thoughts because he absolutely is a special little guy. 🥺

First of all anon thank you for letting me talk about my little guy I'm in love with you now

Spoilers for Stay 2005 in reply below btw

I'll admit it's a lot of projection (mental iwness luv) but also look at him!! I'd dare say this is Ryan Gosling's most wet-cat role (besides Holland March but he's undefeatable). I just love a character in anguish and both him throughout the movie plus him at the end just hurt so good!

I think what captures me the most is the world he's created for himself. The whole movie we think we're seeing Sam's perspective but in reality we know next to nothing about him! Everything is a projection that Henry's come up with and that fascinates me! His own mind is trying so desperately to save himself but a deeper part knows it's useless but still his main perspective is to save himself and UGHHH

ALSO while you could say him being suicidal is a "rationalization" for dying, his mind could just as easily made him terminally ill, or able to predict a freak accident. The fact his mind comes up with being suicidal, combined with the cigarette burns, just makes me wonder about is mental state IRL. We know he has a good relationship with his parents and is in a happy relationship, but imo he must've had a history of mental illness/self destructive thoughts if not actively struggling. Idk I just want a He Survived AU where we get to unpack this! And unpack the survivors guilt!!! He obviously blames himself for the accident + everyone dying ("practicing for hell" "I killed my parents" etc.) And I Wish we could see him have to work past that. Maybe with Sam's help!! Because even though he's not an actual psychiatrist (at least I don't think so) in my He Survives AU Sam helps him while he recovers both physically and emotionally. I'd LOVE to see Henry's dynamic with IRL Sam and have to reconcile the version his mind made up with how he actually is!

Also he's hot af miserable and covered in blood

In conclusion I love self destructive people, wet-cat characters, and I have Ryan Gosling brain-rot already, so the combination of all three has imploded my mind. I am in a chokehold by a character that would listen to Radiohead and think it's deep as fuck

Now if only there was any content about Stay :( I need a 600 page novel about him (I might just write it myself atp)

[emanation-aura]

hi this is a free space to infodump about any of your fics. my ears are open and my eyes are peeled. love your writing

Thank you anon! I love infodumping about my fics but I hate doing it without reason, so this is literally perfect.

Ok, so: more P5R fic this time, but I've actually run out of Palace AUs for the moment so it's something else I was cooking.

It's a rewrite of the Okumura's Palace "Morgana fallout" scene where Ryuji and Morgana get so heated that Morgana runs away, but instead of making Joker a passive observer who just... watches his team fall apart, I gave him some agency (and anger!) to work with. Disclaimer: Akira is really, really rude to Ryuji in this because he's snapping from months of pent-up anger, but I don't mean for it to last and this is not a Ryuji-bashing fic; they make up later.

"Fine then," and he can feel the moment the temperature plummets, knows that the hard-edged voice which he'd taken so much care to soften has finally reared its head. There's nothing he can do about it, though— the anger wells in cracks and bubbles, impossible to ignore. "Let's go on the merits of usefulness, shall we? In that case, I should simply disband the Phantom Thieves, because I can do everything you can." It's too far. It's way too fucking far. He shouldn't be saying this at all, breaking their trust— how could he disband the only thing holding them together, giving their lives meaning and purpose? But there is nothing he can do to stop the venom spilling out of his mouth, the months of pent-up tension and weariness inflicted on him the moment he stepped into Tokyo. [...] “Where do you get off calling Morgana useless?!” Akira cuts it again, unable to stop himself. It skips across his body merrily, this vein of deep-seated anger, intertwining itself with the erratic thump-thump-thump of his heartbeat. “Is that all the Phantom Thieves are to you? Useful or useless?” That manages to cut through the chaos of the room like a knife. In the deadly still aftermath of his words, Akira derives cold satisfaction the way his teammates flinch back from him. It swells in his heart like that, thick and hazy, erupting into the room like poison gas.

There's something incredibly interesting about Akira teetering on that edge of "why can't I do this by myself?". He is a Wildcard/Trickster with huge adaptability due to his range of Personas, so while it would suck to not have his teammates as a safety net, he is theoretically capable of going through the game (at this level, anyway, not so much early on) solo; that's also a little gameplay-story integration with the Joker Solo runs people do.

This, of course, is also incredibly similar to Akechi's own philosophy around teammates, and part of why they mirror each other in so many ways. Speaking of Akechi, though, this is also fundamentally a shuake fic, so:

Akira runs a hand through his hair, grimacing as it comes away sticky with rainwater. He doesn’t dare look at Akechi while he thinks of a reply— it feels too invasive, meeting the detective’s eyes, as if he’ll see through everything Akira is trying so desperately to hide. “Are you alright, Kurusu? Did something happen?” Damn him. Akechi has always been uncannily perceptive, although any person with a half-decent brain could probably tell he’s going through some shit right now. The way the detective’s voice goes soft around the edges, though, something almost compassionate creeping through… “I’m fine, detective,” he replies curtly, hunching further into himself as he turns away from Akechi’s gaze. That compassion is the same poison in Yusuke’s voice, the one that punctured his heart like bullets. “Shouldn’t you be getting home?” “You don’t look fine,” Akechi bites back, sharper. It’s almost a relief as the concern bleeds away from his voice, replaced with something more disapproving and caustic. “Did someone attack you? Are you hurt?” Fuck. Akira resists the urge to bury his head in his knees and tries to breathe. Every cold breath seems to stab him in the lungs, a tip-tap to the rhythm of the rain soaking him through. ...A shadow falls over him. Akira looks up to see Akechi’s umbrella open over him, the detective’s grip on the handle tight with tension. “You’re going to catch a cold if you stay like this,” Akechi says tonelessly. “You should go home, Kurusu.”

Akira runs away to Kichijoji to avoid confronting his friends after (blowing up at them / punching Ryuji in the face / having a traumatic flashback) all in one. I don't want to spoil the rest of the fic but it's shuake, Akechi finds Akira in a vulnerable state, you can fill in the rest of the blanks (though it's not smut).

Something I will share though is that sometimes it's easier to share your burdens with someone you are strangers with. Akechi isn't exactly a stranger to Akira, but they have a connection that is both incredibly personal and also impersonally strange. They act like acquaintances and then rivals in the confidant progression, but there is a spark of recognition in that relationship that is absent from most others: like recognises like, which is why the Shuake relationship is so interesting to explore. They skip every conceivable normal 'milestone' a normal friendship does but still understand each other on a deep level because of their similar backgrounds and experiences.

Here's a part I'm really proud of, though:

He doesn’t have any defenses or smokescreens left to throw up. All Akira can do is avert his gaze and curl his hands tighter around the mug, uncaring of the way it begins to burn him. What can he say? Sorry, I thought you were arresting me? Akechi sighs, and although Akira can’t see his expression, it sounds utterly defeated. “I would appreciate a truthful answer,” he says evenly, although perhaps only Akira is privy to the tightly-controlled bundle of emotions behind that flat neutrality. “If nothing else, for the sake of not repeating this incident. Don’t take me for a fool, Kurusu. Your actions tonight were highly irregular, and I could already work out an answer based on what you told me.” “Then why don’t you?” “I’d rather hear it from you instead,” Akechi shrugs. There is a storm brewing in his red eyes, though, formidable and piercing. “Don’t you hate it when people just assume things about you without asking for your perspective?”

(quick context: Akira had a traumatic reaction to Akechi trying to haul him to his feet)

This is something they share deeply. Of course, it's obvious with Akira because he is the subject of so many bad 'delinquent' rumours in Shujin, subject to literally everyone who knows about his criminal record assuming things about him before they meet him, up to and including Sojiro. Akechi's is less obvious but just as intense: it's two-fold, coming from both his status as an orphaned bastard child and as a Detective Prince. He accrues the default social reaction of pity or praise respectively due to the assumptions forced on him by society; for an orphan it's helplessness, stupidity, and being unloveable, and as the Detective Prince it's the assumption that he has his life under control with everything handled. In this way they are both people who have had the burden of societal expectations forced upon them.

One last snippet to end this rambling off:

“What’s it to you?” Akira finally manages, averting his gaze. The mug beneath his fingers has finally cooled to a reasonable temperature, once again allowing the chill to spread along his fingertips, ice freezing over slowly in his veins. What is Akira’s deepest weaknesses and insecurities, to Akechi? Why is he sitting in Akechi’s living room at three in the morning, allowing the detective to dissect his psyche? Akechi goes silent. When he speaks, he’s back to the placid TV mask again, his idle fingers and tapping foot curiously still. “I wasn’t aware it was anything, Kurusu-kun. I saw you in trouble, so I helped you. Is there anything more to it than that?” I saw you in trouble, so I helped you. Akira, coming between the drunken man and the woman he was accosting. Watching Ryuji about to be executed by Kamoshida. Akechi has just cited the motive of the Phantom Thieves. Or, well, the motive before the fame and popularity got to their heads. Something dizzying jolts through his chest— is this how they felt? Thinks of Kawakami’s miserable second job, Hifumi’s controlling mother, Chihaya preyed on by a cult. Changing their hearts. Is this how they felt, being helped?

This is so dear to me because I interpret things to see that Akechi is not heartless. He is, obviously, a serial killer and assassin working for a fascist politician/father for his own ends, but that doesn't mean he has completely ditched all his values.

This is where I diverge from canon a bit. After the Akechi Black Mask fight, Futaba says: "but you didn't trust anyone. So you got one [Persona] for your lies, and one for your hate." This implies that Robin Hood stems from the lie of justice within Akechi's own heart and was never genuine— yet in the 'Proof of Justice' OVA in the anime as well as Akechi Rank 5, Akechi is depicted idolising heroes and using a laser gun (his weapon in both Metaverse forms) from a young age, before his mother died. Robin Hood represents the quintessential 'steal from the rich, give to the poor' kind of underdog justice that would fit the Thieves perfectly if he didn't turn out to be traitor, but we're also given hints that this is the original Akechi before he was tainted by the world; his version of 'justice' that was true even if it was simultaneously used as a lie.

Think of it like... method acting. Goro's Robin Hood, and by extension, "I saw you in trouble, so I helped you" justification is an act, because he is putting on a show of a courteous gentleman to fit with his public image. But that act stems from a genuine desire for justice and righteousness in his heart that never quite died.

This is also multiplied 10x by the fact that it's Akira whom Goro is trying to help and they have that aforementioned unique relationship that is impossible for me to define in a single post.

Actually I lied, this is the snippet I want to finish on: I wanted this continuity to carry into Royal's Third Semester so I wrote an extended interaction of their 'reunion' in January.

“I need to know what happened now between then,” Goro asks curtly, done with dancing around the topic. “Did you take down Shido? What happened after?” So Kurusu explains. “Yes, we took down Shido,” in a voice that bears an unmistakable hint of pain. He shelters it well, but it’s still recognisable to Goro’s trained ears— after all, doesn’t it sound awfully familiar to that same wavering tone a soaked Kurusu had used outside of the billiards bar in Kichijoji in November, shrinking away from his touch like it might burn him? The memory slams itself into Goro in a way he doesn’t know what to do with, so he shelves it and listens to the absolutely insane explanation of how Akira shot god on Christmas Day.

Thanks so much for the interest in my fic because god I have so many thoughts to expunge that wouldn't fit in authors notes! This one isn't published and it's literally just saved on my computer as 'P5R fic', so if people had fun title recommendations (preferably lifted from irl literature because that's my style) feel free to send them in.

[riddle-me-ri]

Your Riddlers are ✨️pure gold✨️, Ri! If you'll have time and will like the idea: small drabble about s/o comforting injured Arkham Riddler, he always looks so tired...

have a nice day and pls rest I beg

A/N: aww thank you so much sweet anon! Heeyyyy arkhamverse eddie lets gooo…only the second eddie I’m nervous about writing outside of headcanons hehe, I do wanna get better at him I do but god, there are just so many better writers for him hnngg

Trigger Warning: none, you call Ed an asshole but that's a given

Word Count: 712

Arkhamverse Riddler x Reader - Hold Still

“Ow! Stop! I can do this by myself! As I’ve already told you, you ignorant, stubborn–” 

“Ed! Stop moving and it won’t hurt! I swear to God…HOLD STILL!” 

“You can’t tell ME, Edward Nygm-AH!” 

You pulled a tiny sliver of glass out from his arm, before raising an eyebrow at him with a small grin growing to the side of your face. 

Silently daring him to continue challenging you. 

He groaned, annoyed but said nothing. 

Of course, he stayed silent not nearly as long as he should. 

"I really don't need your help, I could've easily done this myself."

"I don't doubt it, Edward. It'd be foolish to question you…" You let the compliment sink in…

Before you reprimanded him. "However, it would've been equally foolish to let a man with only three hours of sleep for the past seventy-two hours operate on himself with an open glass cut in his arm."

The satisfied smile Ed had on his face soon morphed into a grimace, an agitated scowl. It didn't go without notice by you, the conundrum however, was the disdained look from you tricking him or the fact that you were right?

Which is something he'll never admit to, so you have to remind yourself of moments when he shows you're right instead. 

Moments such as these. When you blatantly reminded him that sleep was a necessity for human function, and he can’t come up with a compelling argument so you two stew in silence.

Edward refrained from moving anymore. Most likely just wanting to get this pseudo-operation over with. As you continued to carefully remove more glass shards, you occasionally glanced up and saw even beyond the bruises and grease…Edward's eyelids slowly getting heavy and adding onto the bags already piled under his eyes. 

“How much longer must I wait for you to finish something that would take me mere minutes?” 

“Just a little more, wouldn’t want you get in an infection.” You answered honestly, not even registering his passive aggressive side comments anymore. 

A beat more of silence that was only cut by the occassional tool hitting the table or the cracking of gauze tape. You gave the finished bandage a satisfied pat. 

“There you go…” You say softly, expecting him to immediately hop up and ignore your advice of taking it easy to let the scar heal. 

Yet, Edward didn’t move an inch. 

You looked up and tried not to gasp too loudly. 

Edward’s head was cocked back into the cushion of the worn leather lounge chair. His eyes finally being too heavy for him to hold any longer. You put your fingers towards his wrist, his breathing had actually leveled out. No longer was he huffing and puffing, constantly trying to catch his breath. 

He even began to slightly snore a little. You had to bite your lip to keep from laughing. 

You couldn’t help the soft smile that grew, as a weight was finally lifted off your shoulders. You could finally put off the argument of getting him to rest…at least for today. 

For all his egomania, his bravado, and constant need to put others down to rise himself up…for how much he hardened himself and put up his, what he presumed to be, an impenetrable fortress…

Edward looked incredibly soft and vulnerable in this restful state. 

Not wanting to disturb him, you slowly elevated yourself to your feet. You glanced around the room, as you set your sights on the green plaided throw strung on the sofa next to the chair. You snatched it and as lightly as you could draped it over the slumbering genius. 

Next, you tiptoed out of the makeshift living area into the kitchen. Perhaps when he woke up you could coax him into eating something before he took off back to his schemes never to be seen like a thief in the night (no offense Selina). 

You almost jumped out of your skin as a loud snore silenced through the once silent lair. You looked over your shoulder and rolled your eyes. 

Of course, even in his sleep he couldn’t be quiet…but at least he was sleeping. You wished the asshole would get some more rest now and again. Maybe he wouldn’t be such a grouch all the time…

Maybe.

[malice-and-macarons]

Sharing The TPS Drama

TLDR: Gruvu stop lying about me, I did not steal an AU from you and I am sick to death of your petty behaviour over fanfiction of all things.

Evidence drive: https://drive.google.com/drive/folders/1Wmib2VgbdSSK6kLL8n5uyf5_L5ARliKy?usp=share_link

Hi everyone, it’s tea time (annoyingly) As I said in my last post, I am going to share with you my experience with the tumblr user Gruvu. Some base context, about five years ago while beginning work on The Prodigal Son, the second part of my Bishock fanfiction series, Rapture Falls - I approached the user Gruvu to request permission to use a prompt they had suggested in a tumblr post. The long and short of it is that they agreed and I began writing TPS soon after. Since then Gruvu has claimed I stole their story, their AU, their ideas, refused to give credit, ect. None of which is true. In fact to this very day their credit is STILL on the fanfiction. I never hid or removed it and as I told them previously, I will not remove the credit unless they specifically ask me to. That is all I ever owed them. After three separate confrontations were initiated by Gruvu (one for not mentioning them when responding to someone praising my work, a second for daring to not tell them about fanart a friend was making and a third where they outright asked me to discontinue the series entirely) we cut contact.��It was a very unpleasant experience that did not have an amicable ending. Gruvu (in my opinion I cannot prove this) was actively utilising the anon system on tumblr to send asks to me and themselves to both hurt me and victimise themselves. I have noticed that they tend to get in drama with former friends and every time they get an influx of hate on anon. Again, I can prove literally none of that, I can only acknowledge the pattern and have my opinion on it. And my opinion is that it is petty and dumb so I didn’t engage with that behaviour in turn and tried to just move on from it all. This is a very brief explanation of what occurred and there’s more detail in the drive. Since then I kept it moving, continued writing TPS (despite my slow ass upload schedule), and let it rest. Gruvu however has not been satisfied to do the same. 

As of this week I became aware of them once again publicly claiming I had stolen from them. I reached out to tell them to knock it off and leave me alone or I’d publicly speak up myself, as I declined to do when they first lashed out at me. They refused and so now I am writing this and sharing a drive with most all our interactions (some were cut for Gruvu’s privacy) as well as the nonsense surrounding the whole situation. I have removed most the other parties usernames and pfp because honestly this drama isn’t all that deep and they all deserve to be left out of it. Leave them alone and, I hope I dont have to say this but I will, leave Gruvu alone too. 

The whole reason this is even being shared is because they couldn’t leave me alone so I would hope you lot don’t completely fail to notice how wildly out of pocket it would be to behave the same way to them. The evidence drive is listed here and contains anything else you might need to know. I might edit the drive a bit over the next few days if there’s a need for clearer screenshots or better censorship. But otherwise it is all done. If you read all that, thank you.  Enjoy the dumb fanfiction drama.  And to Gruvu: You’re a whole ass adult. Act like it. Love Mali