#not like im not depressed now. but at least i don't have to worry about the other two things

[sinfulforrest]

gehhh I can feel my brain starting to turn pretty fucky wucky and I would really prefer to not have that happen again cause it was really bad last timeee

[scarletcomet]

does anyone else ever feel like maybe they need to be hospitalized or weren’t ready to be discharged from the hospital?

[becomingabeing]

thinking about how i have very few clear memories of watching kinnporsche because i was never not high that year but one of my fave fic authors writes for the fandom and i still religiously follow their fic EVEN THOUGH I REMEMBER SO LITTLE ABOUT THE EVENTS/CHARACTERS OF THE SHOW.

the power of fanfic

[mayoonn]

heyya! i saw u needing some1 to request so here i am 😈 imagine maki (from jjk) is from a family thats known for their alpha genes (yes. a/b/o universe.) and shes engaged with m!reader whom she thought is a female omega due to his pretty face + mid length hair. she couldnt do anything but froze infront of m!reader bcs she thinks that an angel has fallen (cheesy, i know.) but no, its not a fallen angel. ts a human being. maki is rough at reader first but cant help being smitten to reader liek shes ready to give the whole world for him. also could u add smut innit? any kinks r welcome ;) and and make maki a softdomtop!!!!@ im such a sucker for maki ong 😩 ANYWAYS have a great weekend :]]

Thank you, dear! Maki is so.. hfgghh ♡♡

I apologize if it's very late and if this story was a little rushed or doesn't make sense, I was in the hospital with my mom.. Don't worry, she is very well! She just had surgery (I'm suck at writing smut ಥ_ಥ)

(Male reader!!, smitten omega! reader, subbttm! reader, alpha! Maki, softdom! Maki, Maki has cock, reader has pussy and cock, feminization, nipple play, frottage, rough to soft vanilla sex)

Being an omega is a curse and a blessing for you at the same time, from getting special treatment to getting treated like a slut or an object sometimes. It was 0 to 100 real quick, you have to meet the right person or in this case, the right alpha. You were glad your parents weren't like those abusive or narcissistic as other Omegas are experienced before. You actually have a very decent and normal life, your parents taught you well especially about the alphas.

You believe that not all alphas are that horrible but often, you heard or even saw with your own eyes that you actually questioned yourself whether you should even mate with one. You are an independent, one truly rare to see in omegas so it's really a choice to have a mate. Your parents were worried that you'll end up alone all your life so they offered to set up an arrangement of alphas as your potential mate.

At first you were reluctant, you were afraid about your parents taste in alphas. Not that they had terrible taste, you were scared of what kind of alphas they are. You know how they can be but thinking of being alone for the rest of your life sounds depressing. You agreed nonetheless and your parents were very delighted. They were so excited that you were sure they already made a list..

For the first few dates, they were terrible. Just as you expected, one even sent death threats just because you weren't interested in.. "Open relationship". You frustratedly sighed when most of them were talking about themselves. Well at least you dodged big bullets there, you knew you'll regret when you mate one of them. Your mother comforts you, giving you hope to find a suitable mate while your father arranged your dates.

You were starting to give up until your father came in the room, running as he looked very very excited. You were skeptical, raising your brow at him and crossing your arm. You hoped it would be great news or you might as well give up on this whole mate thing. " well, you don't believe it but Maki Zenin accepted our arrangements! " your father exclaimed as both of you and your mother were shocked to hear this news.

Your face was flushed red as your mother hugged you, celebrating as if you actually achieved something. Well you did, Maki Zenin was a powerful woman and also her family was known for their alpha genes. You actually have a crush on Maki since forever, you didn't think this would've happened to you but it did. You have seen her fights, you even heard that she's actually very respectful and such a gentleman!!

If you could, you would be squealing right now like a high school girl getting love notes from her crush. Your father had told you the arrangement, usually date in the same restaurant as always on tomorrow night. You had to stay calm in front of your parents, you didn't want to look so excited when in the past, you repeatedly told them you don't even need or want a mate. It would be embarrassing, you went to your room and got your outfit ready. You even practiced in front of your mirror, you also don't want to be a stuttering mess in front of her, Maki Zenin! You pray that it'll end up well and you are happily married together and forever! ♡

Okay, maybe you were a bit delusional there.. The next day, you were waiting in the restaurant. You came way too early, you kept checking your hair and your attire. You actually did your best as much as you can, you want to impress her so hard.

➶➶➶➶➶٭٭٭٭٭٭٭٭٭٭٭٭٭٭٭٭٭٭٭٭٭٭٭٭٭٭٭٭٭٭٭٭٭➷➷➷➷➷

After months of courting her, you were both engaged and it was actually going pretty well. The first date, Maki thought you were a female omega with how much you actually cleaned yourself very well. She was flustered when you confronted her that you were a male but hey, she really hit the jackpot there. The way you talk with your soft tone, your eyes fluttering at her, your attire almost seen as an angel that has fallen from heaven. It's cheesy, she knows but she can't help but flirt with you. Your blush compliments your skin so much

That night, after your wedding and on your first honeymoon night was the night you lost your virginity to her. She was glad and appreciated that you waited for her for a long time and she won't hold back. You weren't surprised that she manhandled you so much, it actually turned you on. You were both naked on the bed as she said in hushed words in your ear while she prepared your pussy and stroking your cock. She kept edging you, fingering your hole so fast then slowing down when you were so so so close to cumming.

"Aww, I'm sorry baby but I want you to cum on my cock. Hmm, so sweet, " she smirked as you arched your back in pleasure, your hand gripping on her hand while the other was holding her other hand. It was romantic to you, you thought it was because even though she's so mean and being so rough on your pussy but she is actually so sweet. You tighten your grip as you moan louder, begging for release. Then she stopped and slowly pulled out her fingers from your gaping hole, you huff and pant as tears swelled in your eyes. Your cock twitching so hard, it was painful to hold it in but anything for your lover.

Your hole is gaping as if it was calling for her, you let go of her wrist and wrapped your arm around her neck. Your lips hovering hers as you slowly leaned and kissed. Maki traced her hands on your body, slowly from your chest then on your curves. She gripped your waist and started to devour your neck, marking and biting that it'll leave bruises. You were sure that it won't fade for weeks, you love how possessive she can get.

"Ahh~.. M-maki, please~..," you don't know why you begged for but you really need her. You feel like your body is heating up like a scorching fire. Maki hummed while she gently bit your nipples, playing with your chest. You lightly moaned and your brows furrowed, both of your naked bodies were sweating like crazy. "Baby boy~ be patient, I'll be gentle with you, " she chuckled as she gripped your thighs and pushed up, rubbing her cock to your hole. Your legs twitch every time her cock rubbed your entrance, the head of her cock threatened to push inside. You whimpered and pleaded as you buck your hips but Maki gripped on your thighs.

Your hands gripped onto the blanket behind you as you watched her cock sliding onto your pussy until she finally pushed it in. You arched your back and your eyes widened, your hole clamping on her cock. "Relax baby~ shh.. Shh, relax," she grunt while she rubbed your hips. Your eyes shut, your knuckles became white and slowly getting used to her size. It was bigger and more painful than you expected your first time to be.

After a few minutes of staying still, Maki slowly thrust her cock. You moaned, wrapping your hands around her neck again and nuzzled your head to her neck. Your feverishly moan and gasped were clearly heard from her ear, she grunt as she started to thrust hard. The slaps and your girlish moans can be heard from outside the room, your legs twitch while her cock drilling your inside as if she was rearranged your guts.

You squealed and moaned, bed creaking from how hard she thrust. Maki holds your hand as she whispers sweet nothing in your ear. She growled and soon your release came, the Milly and sticky white substance covered both your stomach and hers. Maki thrust harder than before and you mewled, pleading for her cum as your eyes rolled to the back. Not too long after your orgasm, she came inside. You gasped, feeling your womb were filled and you were pretty sure that your stomach bulged out a bit. Maki lay down on top of you, her cock still inside as she kissed the hickeys she gave in your neck. You grunt when she pulled out, her cum oozing out of your hole and you were too tired to do anything.

She went to the bathroom and came back with a wet rag and water for you, she helps you sit up and clean your body. She kissed your shoulder over and over again as you hummed, this was the best night you will not forget ♡

[varianrambles]

❥𝘕𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘕𝘶𝘳𝘴𝘦 ༊*·˚

Pairing- Scaramouche x Reader

Synopsis - Going on a late night walk with Scaramouche ends up in an injury, but don't you worry your pretty little head about it. Nurse Scara is here to kiss your pain and embarrassment away!

Warnings- Vague descriptions on blood/an injury, modern au, cursing, Scaramouche

Authors note- Dearest apologies for the 2 month hiatus chat. Still learning to write a bit ദ്ദി(˶‾᷄ᗜ‾᷅˵ ᵕ) apologies if Scara is a bit ooc , I TRIED MY BESTT

–wc: 1.1k

It was supposed to be a regular walk through the park with scaramouche, but of course it's never really that simple with you, is it?

Late one night, the children had gone home and the old street lights had flickered on, you and Scaramouche had decided to go on a walk through the neighborhood park. The walk had been fairly normal, the both of you had walked hand in hand, talking idly about whatever came to mind in the moment. That was until you spotted the old children's playground. It was dimly lit by the old and barley functioning street nights, and you could see the leaves, dirt, water, and mud that had gathered at the end of the obnoxiously yellow slide.

The playground itself was pretty sad, if you're being honest. Consisting of a singular slide, and monkey bars that led to the swing set that consisted of literally two swings. If you were a kid and THIS is were your parents told you to play on, you'd ask to go back home. But then again the nostalgia from seeing a children's playground was obviously too much for you.

Now obviously, as any rational adult would do, you squeezed scaramouches hand tighter, swinging it upwards as you held your hands to your chest and jumped in excitement. "Look Scara! A playground!" You squealed out. "What about it?" He asked clearly confused as to why a grown adult would care about a depressing children's playground. "Wouldn't it be fun to go have fun on it? You know, relive the childhood memories and such." He looked at you with a puzzled expression for a moment before sighing, his breath visible in the cold weather before replying. "It's only you who can turn dumb shit like this into something sentimental I swear." You ignored his as you said "Oh cmon' , It'll be fun to play on a playground like kids again!"

Paying no regard to the annoyed grunt he gave as you dragged him over, eventually letting go of his hand and jumping onto the monkey bars, although it didn't work as well as you had planned considering it was made for 5-12 year olds. You decided you were fine with holding onto the bars and swinging while bending your legs to avoid them touching the ground. As Scaramouche walked over you could see a pout present on his doll like features, as he shoved his hands in his pockets. "You aren't actually going to play like a child here are you? I mean if you're gunna do this at least pick a good playground" He said, with an eye roll. "What?! C'mon theres plenty of stuff to do here" You said, drawing out the 'A' in What. "Like the swings! C'mere!" You said again dropping from the money bars and walking over to the swings.

Scaramouche followed behind you, albeit a little less excited to go on the swings. By the time he reached the swings you were already in a swing, beginning to swing back and forth already. "Swing with me Scara!" You Chirped. Silently and surprisingly with no witty comment or insult, Scaramouche sat in the swing next to you. Though he wasn't swinging all over the place like you were, he looked content simply sitting in one. "Im gunna jump!" You said, remembering the days when you would jump of the swings as a kid. I mean if you could do it at Seven, it cant be that hard! "I would tell you thats a bad idea, but you wont listen so, good luck i guess." Rolling your eyes at him you focused on building up some momentum, making sure nothing was in your way, and then you jumped.

And damn was it a mistake, You landed on your feet like you planned but unfortunately your ankle didn't get the memo to straighten before you hit the floor, causing to to fall face first into the hard, cold, and unforgiving mulch. It hurt, a lot. For a moment you sat there unmoving out of pure embarrassment, i mean how could you possibly face the world after so confidently face planting into the ground? Though it felt like forever, you knew it was only a few seconds before Scaramouche was at your side.

Helping you up off the ground, he helped you limo over to a nearby bench, it was a little damp due to the mildew of the night, but that wasn't the biggest concern at the moment. Assessing the damage Scaramouche noticed the bleeding scrapes on your knees and cheeks mainly, though there were smaller scratches though they weren't as serious. Scaramouche opened his bag and pulled out some alcohol wipes and band-aids he always carried with him, unfortunately this sort of thing was a common occurrence, he'd learned to be prepared. Sitting in silence, Scaramouche began to treat your wounds, "Hold on to my arm if it stings." he said, while beginning to wipe at the bleeding scratches on your knees. Oh and damn did that shit burn, you squeezed onto his arm, hissing a bit before he moved onto your cheeks, grabbing a new wipe and repeating the process.

He grabbed the box of band-aids and began to take a few out to put on tour injures. "Are those fucking Sofia the first band-aids? Of all the band-aids in the store those are what you choose?" You questioned a slight giggle at the end. "Instead of mocking my band-aid choices let's talk about your poor life ones, yeah? Where did you go wrong, getting your ass kicked by a barely standing swing and some mulch" You were silent after that.

As he placed the last Sofia the first band-aid your cheek, he leaned down and gave you a kiss on the lips, a quick kiss but a kiss nonetheless. Suddenly it was like you had drunk the sacred blood of god or something because that kiss had you feeling better in seconds, smiling and kicking your feet. "Be more careful, [name] seriously. How do you not get tired of tripping and falling all the time?" Scaramouche said, in a teasing tone. You could practically hear the smirk in his face as he pulled you off the bench, Letting you lean your weight on him for the walk back to your shared apartment. "It's getting late, let's get back home, yeah?" He said adjusting himself a bit. "Yeah..

"Lets head home.."

[ohbo-ohno]

well now i can't stop thinking about reader in a depressive episode bc she's trapped in the apartment refusing to leave the bed or check her phone for texts and the only thing ghost and soap can do is helplessly watch through the cameras..or managing to accidentally hurt herself somehow in an escape attempt and ghost sends a text berating her for it but soap can see he's actually very afraid.. angst potential here off the charts ngl

ugh i looooove good angst. my favorite romance trope is second-chance because there's very little i love more than a man fucking up and begging for forgiveness.

putting a read more here bc im gonna talk about depression and thats a pretty big cw <3

it would be very difficult to not get depressed when they're both gone for days at a time. you'd go from being in their presence 24/7, constant attention, to just nothing for days on end. especially with the presence of the collar and chain at your throat? it would all throw you into a not-quite-person headspace, and that's not great when you're all alone :(

early on you don't like to interact with them. johnny spams you with texts - funny memes, stupid things people have said, things he wants to do when he's back with you - and you ignore him out of spite (except he can see you lunge for the phone every time it buzzes, and from certain camera angels he can see the way you smile when he tells you about something embarrassing simon did). simon doesn't text much at all, that's not a specific to you thing though he's just like that, so he's almost exclusively texting you little scolding messages. smirks when he sees you scowl and pout through the camera :(

they'd be really worried once you stop getting out of bed. even when you're scared of them, there's still a fire there yk? they don't want you to change as a person, they just want to keep you. when you start to give up a little, it would send them into a bit of a tailspin.

johnny worries first (he hadn't noticed first, but he worries first). he sends you a text and you don't move to look at it, which he's never seen happen unless you're asleep or two far away from the phone to hear it. so he spams you, does that thing where he sends one letter at a time so your phone is just making an endless buzzing noise. his heart lodges in his throat when you just roll onto your other side, not even looking at it or shoving it onto the floor.

simon has to stay calm, because johnny's freaking out. he's very worried about you too, but he can't be showing that with the way that johnny's hands shake as he shoves the camera app into his face.

they can't just leave, they've got a contract they've signed promising to complete x y and z, or else they'd be on their way back when you only leave the bed once in 24 hours and it's to use the bathroom. they're snippy and pushy, rude to everyone and each other because they can't help you.

the next morning you get out of bed. ghost shakes soap awake, a rare desperation in his movements as he forces him to look at your shuffling form on the little phones screen.

you're very slow moving, stiff from your day in bed and slow from exhaustion and hunger. you trip over the chain, go sprawling to the ground with a cry that echoes like a gunshot out of simon's phone speakers. you curl up, hands cradling the knee your weight fell on, and you don't get back up.

simon and johnny are gone, immediately. they break contract and just about every traffic law ever written to get back to you, tearing up the stairs at a full sprint like there's a fire on their heels.

you're still on the floor when they get there, haven't moved an inch from where you first fell (which they know, at least one of them has had his eyes on the cameras since you hit the floor). johnny wants to take you to a hospital, but simon manages to talk him down a bit when they see that your knee is only red and a little scraped.

the real problem is in your head. you don't bother reacting much when they burst in, just sort of lay limp and let them do what they want. like a doll.

johnny's cupping your face, squeezing a little too tight and making eye contact with you. he looks frantic. "lovie? c'mon, talk to me. what's wrong, huh?"

simon's stroking over your body with hands that shake, just enough for you to notice. he's leaned against the back of the couch, you between his legs and your back against his chest, legs caged by his.

"give her a second, johnny," simon rumbles, petting up and down your arms in a soothing and consistent movement. "she's alright. just gotta..." he cuts himself off for a moment, swallowing down the lingering panic in his throat. "just need a little love, huh sweetheart? little love and attention, and you'll be okay."

they slowly coax your mind back to your body, steady movements that don't jar or (for once) don't push any of your boundaries. they're warm, murmuring soft praises and kind words.

you cry when you fully come back to yourself, overcome with how comforted you truly feel. you shouldn't. they've kidnapped you, they keep you chained to the fucking floor like a dog when they leave you.

but they're so warm, and so soft. johnny's mumbling into your neck all the things he likes about you (pretty face, soft skin, perfect size, sweetest eyes, cutest expressions) and simon is breathing heavy and deep in your ear, guiding your breathing with his as it grows heavier and heavier.

that night is the first night you cuddle into them. you need them, even if they've forced it to be that way. you can't change it now.

[navstuffs]

hi!! i really love your writing and i would love if you could feed me with a request (only if you're comfortable with it, ofc) 👉🏼👈🏼 what about a leon x reader where reader is passing through a very tough depressive crisis and is really not fine mentally speaking — and leon just try to help and comfort them through this? 👉🏼👈🏼

anyway, thank you for your fics, they really helped me these days 😭💗

Anchor

Pairing: Leon Kennedy x GNPartner!Reader

Summary: It is 1 am when Leon Kennedy knocks on your door. He shouldn't be there and you shouldn't have opened it. 

Warning tags: hurt/comfort, angst, leon almost died, reader is suffering with anxiety due to past events, can be read as platonic or romantic (you choose)

Writer's Notes: hello! first of all, im sorry i took so long to write this request for you. i changed some stuff and i hope you don't mind (reader is still depressed). thank you so much your kind words and i hope this fic serves as comfort for you!! <333 stay safe anon!

for more painful leon's fics, check my masterlist. i have some happy ones too :)

It is 1 am when Leon Kennedy knocks on your door. It is the third time that week only, the fifth of the month. 

It starts when you don’t appear at work after two weeks since his return, and no one knows where you are. HR informs you are sick, which means you are still alive somewhere in the world, just sick. Okay, but sick with what? Sick how? Are you in the hospital? Do you need any help? Leon knows you don’t have family around, like him, and you are pretty much alone - like him. 

So, as any regular worried friend would, he calls and texts. He wants to hear your voice and guarantee that you don’t need help and have everything you need. That you truly are okay. No answer. HR has guaranteed him you are not dead, but what if you—no, he shouldn’t think about that.

The next step is going to your house. He knows where your address is and wouldn’t be a complete weird appearing there in the afternoon. No answer. Leon won’t be a creep as far as looking at your windows, at least not yet. He won’t go as far as busting your door and checking how you are feeling because he needs to confirm you are okay. You might just not be home.

On the second visit, Leon got awfully close to kicking your door. Before he could do that or even knock, he saw a shadow pass over the window. Though Leon told himself he wouldn’t, he looked inside just in time to see you disappear to the second floor. So, at least you are really alive, Leon’s body filling with relief. It could have been a bad case of flu, and you don’t want to contaminate anyone.

One more week passes, and he visits your house two more times. Those times you didn’t even bother to hide yourself, lazily lying down on the sofa in a way Leon couldn’t see your face (oh yeah, now he is definitely peeking out your windows). So you are genuinely ignoring him or truly sick with some contagious disease. Maybe Covid?

The fifth time he knocks on your door, it is 1 am and Leon is deeply not only worried but bitter. He was sitting in his apartment alone, wondering what you had and why you didn’t open the door for him. You two are colleagues, and Leon would dare to go as far as to call you his friend if anyone asked. How many times have you brought him soup while he was sick? Brought him meds, kept him company? Checked on him until he was finally all better?

It would be only fair if he did the same.

Leon grabs his keys without even thinking: You will open the door for him tonight. And if you don’t, well, he will kick it open. To hell with the civil approach.

-x-

All the courage slips away from his body when he notices the kitchen’s light on. Leon can’t see anything inside since you decided to make his life harder and close the curtains. So, instead of kicking that door until it’s down, Leon goes back to the gentle approach (like the idiot he is): he knocks.

The door opens not even ten seconds later, and Leon blinks, surprised. You are there. You, not a trick of his eyes: a fluffy and long blanket covering your body, only your face peeking with a familiar expression Leon recognizes immediately - he had seen in his own mirror before.

“You won. What the fuck do you want?” Those are the first words to him in weeks.

“May I come in?” 

You ponder for a moment, your eyes red, and Leon wonders when you last slept. You walk away, leaving the door open, and Leon follows inside, locking the door behind him. 

Your house isn’t in the best state. He had been here before and thought you weren’t the most organized person (“I can find myself in my own mess, Leon.”). The mess had grown too much from normal. There were tons of take-out boxes on the kitchen counter, pizza boxes, and fast food bags. At least you had been eating—not the best food ever, but feeding. He could work with that.

And the bottles—oh, those Leon would identify anywhere. You weren’t a heavy drinker, and you mentioned plenty of times you didn’t know how he liked whiskey. Now, there were countless empty bottles of whiskey, beer, and vodka, so much so that the place looked like a bunch of frat boys had a party just the night before and didn’t bother to clean.

Leon follows you to the living room as you fall onto the couch. An old Simpsons episode plays on the TV screen. There are still some bags and bottles on the floor, but fewer. Your eyes focus on the TV, not really watching or paying attention to him.  Leon stands there, keeping a safe distance from you and gathering what to say. 

“I came to check on you.” Leon starts, his eyes glued on you. “You haven’t called or texted me back. The HR said-”

“I am sick. I wanted to be left alone.”

“I know, but-”

“I could complain about this to HR, you know? It could be considered an invasion of privacy, and you could lose your job. “

“I was worried about you.”

“You saw me in the window that day, didn’t you? I’m alive and breathing. Now get out.”

You hide your face in the sofa, conversation clearly done on your side. It feels like an impossible battle to win. Leon then tries again, “Do you need anything?” 

“No. Get out.”

He sighs, turning on his heels. Leon wants to say you can call if you need him, any time, but Leon knows you wouldn't. This is an impossible battle to win, Leon realizes as he starts to leave. But then he freezes, a memory piercing his thoughts. Leon comes back to the living room, your face still hidden.

“No.”

“What?” 

“I am not leaving. Not before I know what is wrong.”

“I am sick.”

“Yes. So I have heard.” 

You don’t turn to look at him, and that’s fine. If you want to be stubborn, so could he. Leon can wait. The episode on the TV finally ends, and as the familiar opening plays in the background, you slowly turn in his direction, one eye appearing first, then the other, as if expecting Leon would be gone by now. Unlucky for you, Leon S. Kennedy didn’t give up that easily, especially for his friends.

“I don’t know what you are feeling, but I know that face.” His voice manages to sound neutral.

Of course, he does. Of course, your partner, the legendary D.S.O veteran, would know. You, just a newbie, would have no idea what he went through, but Leon didn’t seem the kind of person to crumble for anything. Leon would probably be fine if you were the one to get shot, not him. He wouldn’t have panicked, he wouldn’t have started crying, screaming for someone to help them, losing themselves in a sea of despair and pain.

“Hey…”

Blood. So much blood in your hands. You are useless, you can’t help him as Leon’s face loses color-

“Hey.”

He deserved someone better—someone much better as a partner—not you, a weak agent who thought you were strong enough to stand by his side. Oh, how wrong you were.

Leon calls your name, more urgent this time, and your line of sight is filled with the face of the man you considered your friend right at your path—concerned blue eyes, his hair tickling against your face. His forehead is in concentration, the faint ghost of a beard, as he speaks soothingly. “Hey, look at me. You are safe. Deep breaths, come on.” 

The visions mix as you blink: Leon losing blood in your arms, unconscious, back to being safe, his worried eyes staring at you.

Your rapid breathing noise fills the room, your heart wanting to burst as the pain spreads over your body, the pain worse than being stabbed or punched. You keep your eyes on Leon - he is fine, he is safe, he is well, he is worried sick about you- as he continues to nod and tell you to breathe.

It takes a while, Leon’s hands on your shoulder as you finally calm down, the tears rolling freely from your eyes.

“I am sorry.” You manage to whisper. “I am so sorry.”

“You are safe. We both are safe.” Leon declares, and you take that in. Right now, yes. But what about tomorrow? What about-? “Hey, eyes open at me.” When had you even closed them? “Come on. There is no one else, just you and me. And we are safe.” 

You nod, not arguing back. Finally, you sit down, and Leon takes two steps back. “Water?” 

“I think there are some in the fridge,” you reply, cleaning your tears. Leon leaves and quickly comes back with two bottles, unbottling them for you. You shake your head, but Leon insists, and you drink in small sips, the cold liquid refreshing your dry throat. When was the last time you had any water? Or took a shower? Or slept?

Finally, you give him space on the couch to sit. Leon doesn’t, and you point your head to your side, and he sits, keeping a safe distance from you. You two say nothing for a while, simply looking at the TV to watch Bart Simpsons on his shenanigans. 

“I am sorry.”

“Would you stop that?” Leon sighs back, frustrated. 

“No. I am sorry.”

“Fine. I forgive you. Are we good now?”

“No.” 

“I knew it wouldn’t be,” Leon replies with a sad smile.

“You could have died, and I didn’t-” Leon says your name, but you continue “-let me finish. I didn’t help. I didn’t move. I did nothing.” 

Leon didn’t want to talk about this, knowing it was inevitable. The day he took a bullet for you: not one, but two. Leon noticed before you, his reflexes quicker than yours. It was his responsibility anyway.

You only watched, shocked, as the bullet pierced his leg, then his chest. You didn’t move or flinch; you just froze, your hands closing and opening nervously as Leon fell right in front of you. You had been fortunate that the backup team had arrived on the other second, finding in the middle of the swarm of bullets a screaming you protecting Leon with his own body, all training thrown out of the window. You two should have been dead. Life had given you and him another chance, since no other vital organ or vein of Leon had been damaged.

You don’t remember much after except asking for your resignation that same day and getting a “No” as an answer. So you decided to get on sick leave until some higher-up got tired and fired you.

“I did nothing.” Leon tries to interrupt you again, but you continue, “You could have died, and I did nothing.”

“It wouldn’t be your fault.” 

“What? Of course, it would!” 

“No, it would not.” 

“Can you fucking stop trying to make me feel better?” Your tone is so angry, so vile, that Leon almost flinches. 

Death is always in the back of his mind. Every time he is out there, he could die. He is expandable; they all are, but he couldn’t just let you die. You a much smarter version of what he once was during Raccoon City. The same bravery, but not foolish as his. Much sharper. Leon knew why he got paired up with you in the first place, the irony not completely lost in him. 

It would have been fine if Leon died that day he protected you, but not okay if you did. Not on his watch. Not now, not ever.

“I can’t help it,” Leon replies, a sad smile on his lips. “I can’t help it, especially when a friend needs my help.” 

A friend? 

Do not grow attachments. Wasn’t that your first lesson? It had been hard to be paired up with a man who hated it at first, then to learn how to laugh at his silly jokes or admire how far Leon would go for anyone. For anyone, except himself, stupid brave man.

You open your mouth and close it, simply lying against the sofa with your eyes closed. 

“So, let me help you?” His voice is warm and inviting. 

It would be best if you said no. You should kick this man out of your living room, out of your life, and never go back to that stupid job fighting an endless battle that would end with you dead or someone you cherished dead. You don’t know how Leon does it, but as you open your eyes, his blue eyes look straight at you awaits in hope. Waiting to comfort you, support you to the best of his abilities, and be your friend.

The pain is still there, vivid in your soul and mind, but there is hope. Right there, in that tiny spot you gave Leon S. Kennedy. That’s why you shouldn’t have opened that damn door, you realize, but it is too late. You limit on nodding.

[vitzi9]

Patience is the key to success (2)

Masterlist if you want to read my others things. Part 1 here.

CW/TW: yandere-manipulative-obsessive-stalker-ethan, fem reader, smut, no p in v, depressed reader(but really), suicidal thoughts

i'm trying to post this quick because I crave attention, whatever its insults, compliments, likes or repost, idc. I want ppl to know i'm existing. i have a big oral test tomorrow and im really bad at speaking before someone (hence why im writing instead) so i just need to know im not totally useless in the society and that im, at the very least, making people enjoy my things. sorry for the rant, i have a big headhache, probably gonna die ✌️😚

the smut is really bad btw but like really but im bad at writing them but i need to to improve (26/06/2023) (5226 words)

"Let's just finish watching the movie now." you say and Ethan doesn't make you repeat as he goes straight to the couch.

You felt much better after that little talk. Ethan did not say much but in his words, there was a lot more. He was planning to be with you a long time. He does not want to ruin things. It made you so happy. Every fiber in you was warm thinking of it. You were at peace.

Ethan was calm after that, albeit moving uncomfortably sometimes. (maybe because of his boner?) He was just as cuddly as when you arrived. His head laid flat on your chest, rising up and down with each one of your breath. Your fingers brush his curl slowly as you hear his breathing slacken. You were giddy thinking about him being at peace with you, too.

His arms were closed tightly around your body, never letting you go. The movie was really advanced by now, the end was coming soon. It probably was something towards 11AM. Usually, you would have gone knock at your friend's house but there was no need now as you already saw her earlier.

When the movie fatefully ended, the credits start to roll but none of you moved an inch. Ethan rubs his cheeks against your chest before sighing happily. His eyes were closed. Was he asleep ? No, certainly not. He loves horror movie. He wouldn't fall asleep when one is ongoing.

He was cute here. You were delighted to think he trusted you enough to let his guards down and sleep with you. You were his safeplace. And he was yours. Your fingers trail down on his back where you draw small patterns dreamily. You write things, that cross your mind. You simply scratch him. His sudden speaking startle you. Your hand stopping evey movements.

"Are you sleeping far from here, today ? Every movements of his jaw hitting slightly on your chest. 'today' because he knew about your frequent change of home.

Relaxing, you continue to caress his back lovingly.

-No, not really. But I don't sleep there anymore.

The hotel too was starting to worry you. Like the building was shrieking on you. You don't know what was scarier, to be alone or to never be. And now that you found such a warm place, you don't want to leave. Ever.

-Why ?

-Scare me, s'all.

-You can sleep here tonight, if you want.

-Why ? Your decision was already made; you'd sleep here. You knew it the second he offered you to stay the night. But you wanted to see his arguments to convince you.

"Let me be with you." his sentence made a shiver run down your back.

Did that stalker fucked you up so hard you had chill even thinking about them? It was just a damn sentence. Everyone can say it. For god's sake, it's Ethan saying it of all people. Even if he awoke this uneasy feeling back, you couldn't blame him. He didn't know about the sign the criminal had shown you. You didn't tell him that much detail, only saying they had indeed brought creepy signs but omitting what was written on it. And Ethan said it so prettily, too. Yes, of course you'd be with him.

He told you you never slept here before and that you'd be safe anyway since he's here and don't plan on leaving you. So you accepted. It was really early in the day but the both of you were getting sleepy because of the calm and comfort of the situation. He offered you to go to his room which you accepted. After guiding you to there, he tells you he has to go grab something and that he'd be back really quick.

And he did, in fact, came back really quick.

By then, you were already sprawled out on his bed. You had time to see the mess he had scattered everywhere. The carboard, the books, the drawings, some letters, too. And you even found out about his second phone. The lockscreen was a generic one, the one you have by default, as if he just got it recently. But the phone wasn't new, it seems in contrary really old as it was broken at some area.

Ethan arrives in the room with a small plastic blue square packaging, you don't have time to see what it was that he throws it under the bed. You don't pay it too much attention. Playing mindlessly with his other phone in hand, you take off and put back the phone case of it to entertain yourself.

"You got two phones ? you ask even though you kind of knew the answer already.

-Oh, yes. One is for games only, the other is the one I'm really using. Did you went on it ?

-No, don't worry, I won't frisk into your secret criminal life."

He smiles before taking the phone out of your hand. He places it in the drawer of his nightstand. Ethan falls on top of you, taking your breath away for a moment. You laugh and hit his back for him to get away from you and he just laugh heartly before letting himself fall beside you.

He lays down, setting his head on his arm, looking up at you with stars in eyes. Sometimes, he's so pretty it hurt physically to look at him. Starting to get embarrassed by his insistent look, you find something to say.

-Why do you have so much pieces of cardboard anyway ?

-I make placards out of them.

With a fond smile, Ethan stares straight at your eyes. As if waiting for you to say something. You would have ask questions about his 'placards ' if not for the sudden interest he was displaying in you, which, instead, made you change subject without really noticing it. A nervous laugh escaping you.

-Why are you looking at me like that ? Is there an undertone ? Am I supposed to understand something ?"

He shakes his head negatively, displaying a small mischievous smile. He could be such a goblin at times ! Wanting to make him swallow his pride, you lean towards him and kiss his lips. Ethan smiles and moves his lips with yours.

Your arm set down on his waist and soon the kiss get heated. Ethan's body is burning, his breath is too. You don't let each other breath, as soon as you separate from each other, you plunge back in. Physically needing the contact.

You rise on your knee, arching your back to kiss him still laying flat on the bed. Soon, he joins you by rising as well. Both of you on your knees, face to face, eating each other's face. Ethan's hand are mahandling you to sit on his thights. Then, with his surprising strenght, he starts sliding you on them. Your heating pussy rubbing directly on the fabric of his pant. Your hand instinctivly goes to rub the growing tent in his trousers. The area was hot, when you slide your fingers on it, it would budge.

Ethan whimpers, thrusting his hips against yours. You straddle him completly, framing his his body with your legs. You rub his tent against your clit for some frictions. It was aching and growing more desperate by seconds.

"I... I wanna have sex with you." Ethan says softly.

You kiss his cheek, going for his neck. You answer with a meek 'me too' before sucking the skin of his neck. Ethan backs his head, already out of breath. He gives you full access to his body, still rutting desperatly his hips into yours.

But you were growing impatient. You lift your body from him, making him whine at the contact loss, before sliding your fingers behind the elastic of his pants. You slip it down to his knees before you start salivating at the sight of his hard cock already drooling for you.

He didn't have any underwear. That's why you could feel him so close to your core.

Your hand touch his thight, caressing gently his body. Making sure to avoid the area he need you the most. Ethan try to touch himself, tired of your teasing, but you slap his hand away. He whines and looks up at you with teary eyes. Silently begging you to do something. It was impossible for you to resist him.

Your hand grabs his cock in one motion, you could feel it pulse and its warmth propagate in your hand. It was already so so wet because of all his precum, your hand was sliding so easily you could have thought he came multiple times already. Gently, you start to move your hand on all its lenght slowly. The boy props himself on his elbows and look at the scene before him. Ethan sighs happily, eyes closing and head backing. He's in heaven, he thinks. But not entirely, as he looks at you still clothed.

"Want to... Want to finger you..." he pleas.

In front of a boy so desperate, and being incredibly horny, you slide your pant down, making sure your underwear went with it. Ethan lose every one of his braincells when he sees your bare pussy glistening with your love juice. He wanted to lick it bad. That's the only one fanstam he ever had that help him getting off so hard he can't move for a whole minute. He wants to drown himself in your juice. But you have others projects.

You guide his pointer finger to your lips. Ethan starts caressing it and smear your juice everywhere. His lift up another finger and start passing both of them on your lips.

"Here, you have to touch here." you say, pointing to your clit.

You move briefly to bring your genitals closer. You could feel each other's warmth emanating from your core. Seeing him try to touch you was so hot. He was listening to everything you said.

Soon getting the hang of it, he starts circling your clit, applying different pressure on it to see which one were you reacting the most to. Slowly, you quicken your pace on his hard cock. As if to reward him for being such a good boy. He was in a trance, eyes closing and opening. And when they opened, they were staring with a utmost care at your moving breast throught your shirt. Your nipples were hard and were poking through the fabric.

His eyes were glued to it. Understanding his want, you lift your shirt above your collarbone with your free hand. Ethan can't seem to take off his eyes of you. They're probably the first pair of breasts he sees in real life after all.

"Fuck... You're so pretty, love." you speed up on his shaft at his praise. "Fuck, fuck...

-You can touch baby.

-I can?"

He stops all movements to your pussy, your frown but let him discover his needs. It was his first time, you needed to let him have a little fun. His free hand touch one of your breast, massaging it then weighten it in the palm of his hand. He smiles like an idiot, an idiot so cute you let him do what he wants with you. His other, wet, hand pinch lightly your sensitive bud.

Your free hand slap his arm to make him understand he did it too hard. He sends you an apologatic smile.

"They're like stress ball."

Amused by the weird comparison, your chuckle. Still impatient to come, you guide your hand higher on his cock to caress his tip and rub it. His face contorts in pleasure, browns frows and mouth ajar. His forehead fall on your shoulder while his fingers go back down near your entrance. His hips were thrusting into nothing but your hand. Obscene wet noises were resulted. You were hot, terrribly hot but so was he.

Ethan's small puff of breath sends chill in your body. His whimpers couldn't be replaced with anyone else. Your hand was all wet and sticky, as was his. Ethan decides to enter once again two of his digits in you. Your head falls back and you sigh happily at finally scratching that itch in you.

"Curl your fingers, E." you whisper.

He hums and do as told. Curling his fingers in you, he starts to thrust them in and out at a slow pace, adopting the same sensuality you used to jerk him off. You accelerate, your hand no longer lingering on the entire shaft. Sometimes, you'd stop completly to hear him whine. Your thumb caressing his cock's veins.

"Baby please..." he pleas.

Ethan starts kissing sloppily your shoulder, your neck. You, on the other hand, take his hand to guide the thrust of his fingers, angling them correctly for them to touch that spongy spot inside. His fingers were long and thin, that was a part of him you absolutly loved. You always had a thing for pretty hands and his were beautiful.

"What do you want, love? you ask tenderly.

-Tell me you love me..."

You nudge his hair with your nose and he looks up. Staring at his eyes, you see them wet with tears. You kiss him instantly. Playing with his tongue with yours, your hand moving faster and faster. You stop the kiss to tell him you love him and he bites his lips, eyes closing.

His breath is jerky, uneven. You press his palm against your clit, rubbing it while you push his fingers inside you again. You feel a knot tighten. You won't last long.

"Tell me you love me.

-I love you E, you're doing so good.

-Again..."

You said it as many times as he needed to feel better. His hips stuttters, his cock quivers. His words are slurred to each other, resulting in incomprehensible blabbering. You don't lose the rythm, keeping the same pace until he'd eventually come.

-Love you so..." he whines.

His body tense, his breath stops. You can only hear the wet sounds your hand is producing. He doesn't utter a sound until spurts of cum smear on your hand and belly. Feeling at ease, he moans a last time from relief and breath again.

You're not far behind. Ethan being pratically knocked out, you grind on his hand. You close your thighs around it, ensuring it stay inside. Your legs are shaking, wave of hot and cold invade you. You plunge his fingers inside but, to your surprise, Ethan regains control and start pounding into you to get you to your end.

He kisses your neck while you finally come on his fingers, sweaty and disvesheled. You swear one last time when he withdraws his fingers. You stay here for a while, just hugging , breathing and basking in each other's presence.

After some minutes, you decide to go shower together. You end up finally getting a good night of sleep, cuddled in his strong arms.

The next day, Ethan and you had a stupid satisfied smile on your face. Both happy to be here. You kissed and confessed your love to each other all morning until eventually he had to leave for work. Sadly, you had things to do, too. Ethan offered you to stay and sleep here for a few nights because he wanted to stay close to you.

You liked this idea. Of course you liked it, you love Ethan. And to convince you further, he told you his roomate wouldn't mind. So naturally you accepted. You were embarassed at the idea of bothering his roomate but you decided you would just sleep here, and the day, you'd let the apartment free. It was his too, after all. Not only Ethan's. There is no way you'd let someone feel excluded in their own house.

Grabbing your phone, you click on your friend's number. You call her, the ringing echoes three times and no one answer. Somehow begrudgingly, you resume yourself at simply sending a text. Just for you to instantly forgetting your sorrow as she answers. The discussion was quite simple, she was telling you she was at her grandma right now. She was bored and wanted to know how you were doing.

'I'm going back to my dear haunted apartment, probably gonna die. Wish me luck.' you texted. She put a little more time answering this one. It's possible it triggered something in her. After everything she endured. 'nobody will hurt you as long as i'm alive' she said. She simply changed subjects after that. Asking you about the cute guy you told her about in the letters. And so you explained everything. Every time you tried to offer to call her, she'd decline. You were still sad she didn't want to talk to you but you were telling yourself you needed to be patient.

On a happier note, you decided to leave the place to go to your own apartment.

To one point, you should have known better than be too happy about your improving situation. Of course, it was well too soon for you to consider everything better. But you were probably stupid because the fall hit you much harder than you could've prepared yourself for. Oh, the pain you felt when reality had finally caught you. You thought you were going to die when you came back home to simply grab some clothes. (Ethan told you to do so.)

Your door was ajar. But it wasn't your doing. No, of course it wasn't you. Your apartement terrified you, why would you come here more ofthen than needed ? You felt your body freeze but you quickly overcame the feeling. That's it. You needed it to end. This fucking stalker had ruined you. You and your life. You sent a text to Ethan, telling him that if you do not call him after twenty minutes, he needed to call the cops. He didn't answer. He was at work. It was well past eleven by now.

Your heart was beating so hard you thought it was going to collapse on the ground, and you with it. Slowly, aware of every sound around you, you push the door. Your livingroom was as messy as you had left it. At one difference, the wall. Every frame you had put up on the walls were thrown away. Most of them on the ground and broken, with shattered glasses everywhere.

Why would the creep empty the walls ? To write on it. Of course they would write on it. You laugh bitterly for yourself. You couldn't see their stupids fucking signs anymore, so they had to improve. To force you to read their creepy obsessive text. You hear the crushing of a broken piece of glass, as if someone had stepped on it. But it wasn't you.

You're on alert. Every one of your senses on crisis. Was your mind playing tricks on you ? It was possible in this hellish house who did nothing but give you nightmares recently. You don't realize how you stopped breathing. Only calming when three long minutes had gone without another sound to be heard.

Nothing is here. You're alone, you think. Everything is good. You'll just grab your stuff and leave. Regaining your breath, you bring your attention back on the wall. Words were written on it in deep crimson red. Is that blood ? No, it can't be. Probably paint to give a creepy look that'll catch your attention. You approach the wall to better understand the message.

'She's not here anymore'

The need to throw up almost won. A dark feeling in your guts was telling you 'she' was your friend. But you didn't know. She responded to you, after all. You talked to her. So she had to be okay. She had to. You put your hand on your belly to soothe that want to vomit. You take big breath before finally leaving the livingroom. You quickly make your way to your room where you meet your bare bed. Where are your sheets ? What the hell ? But you don't want to stay longer so you throw clothes in your bag in a hurry.

The front door slam shut. And you know it's the end.

You already feel the tears drowning your sight. Trying to stay silent, you hide in your closet almost empty with how many times you came here to grab clothes. Your hand clasp against your mouth to avoid doing any noise.

Slow footsteps can be heard in the empty apartment. With your shaky hands, you fail to unlock your phone. Your vision is blurry, you can't touch the correct keys. The worst is that you can't see where the creep is. If they stay silent, they can enter the room you're in without you even noticing. And this idea is horrifying. But on another side, you'd preferred them to kill you by surprise so you don't have to affront them.

Your cries intensify, in your despair, you drop your phone straight on the ground. The footsteps stops abrutly. Three distincts knocks are echoing on the corridor's wall. They are coming toward you. You're fucked. They're coming ! What do you do ? What did you do ? Why is this happening ?

Kneeling like you could in the closed space, you reach your hand to grab your phone. As soon as your finger grazes it, the phone vibrate and your ringtone start playing for the whole building to hear. No, no, no, no, no ! Ethan. Ethan is calling you. You pick up despite everything but as soon as you do so, the call is cut short. Fuck E, why would you do that !

The criminal's footsteps are louder, quicker, heavier. They're running. They're running here ! You hold the closet door shut with your both hands, praying for your life. You only have knives in your kitchen, but it's too late now. If you go out, they'll see you. You realized at that moment that whatever you were doing, you couldn't win. That you never even stood a chance against them.

Everything was illusion.

Nothing was improving, you knew it, in fact. You were lying to yourself, searching comfort in a man that don't even understand the dept of the problem. Of your problem. And your friend ? You don't want to talk about her. You don't want to open your eyes just yet. You just want to live in your nice little lies you made up for yourself. You're nice with them, in fact, you like them. Nobody wanted to help you anyway. They could have saved you, you and her, but nobody listened.

Now, it's too late.

The closet start to shake. Widening your eyes, you realize that the creep had start to punch it with their bare fist. You don't give a fuck about being heard anymore, you're bailing your eyes out. Begging for them to let you go, screaming, yelling, calling for help. Holding the door for dear life as if it was going to save you, because in your head it was. But the door didn't last long.

A hole is quickly created in the door. You thought you'd see someone's face, wether it be a man, a woman, whatever. But you saw a white plastic mask instead.

Ghostface.

Why was a damn Ghostface chasing after you? Was it all a sick joke from the start ? You swear you were seeing his eyes boring into yours through the mask. You swore you already saw them somewhere. Ghostface tilts their face to the side, as if mocking you. They were telling you that you were stuck, that it was the end. You hoped they'd kill you.

You couldn't live like this anymore.

In the hole of the closet, Ghostface pass his gloved hand. The latter lay on your shaky face, on your cheek to be exact. You feel the fabric against your skin and think of biting his fingers off. No, you'll angry him. If he's going to kill you, that it be in the least painful way.

"Ethan, right ? Does he treat you so well you forgot about me?" his changed voice said. A weird and creepy robotic voice, one you knew you'd never forget.

You were moving your head left to right. You didn't know why. Probably to tell you didn't want to die, probably to avoid looking into his eyes. He laughs, sounding like a rumbling.

"Ending things right now would be such a waste."

No ! You thought you were finally free ! Why would he chases you down for so long without acting on it !? His gloved hand retract and the door slowly open in an acute creaking. The man is finally revealed before you. He was wearing the whole outfit, the big black robe and the hood.

"It was fun. I give you a gift to reward you for these beautiful screams."

And the knife.

He had a knife in hand. And it was tinged red. Something in you told you it was her. Suddenly, the red writings on your wall had a different meaning.

"I hope you like it, I worked extra hard for it."

Out of nowhere, Ghostface takes your hand, force it open, and lay in it something before forcing it closed. He laughs deeply. One of his hand pat your head mockingly before moving up.

"See you later." he said, swinging his knife in a playful manner.

You were absolutely paralyzed. You didn't know what happened. You stayed up without moving for whoever say how long. When your legs finally stopped shaking, you decided to look what the killer had gave you. Slowly opening your hand, your knee buckle and you fall to the ground crying silently at the sight of a nip of your friend's hair.

You curled up on yourself before completly laying down on the ground, tightening the hairs in your hand close to your heart. She was not here anymore. You wanted to fucking die.

Ever since, Ethan was forgotten. He had tried to call you so many times you had blocked his number. You spent the rest of the day crying in your hotel's room. You resented him. So hard. He didn't answer, he was the one calling and giving your position to a fucking criminal, to a murderer! And he didn't answer. He didn't help, like everyone else.

One day later, neighbors complained about a smell coming from an apartment. You didn't cry when they found your friend's dead body. You didn't cry when cops came to interrogate you. The caretaker having told them about you. Your eyes contained so much hatred in them when looking at him the cops had to let him leave to get him away from you. You didn't cry telling the cops how many times you went to see them to ask for help, nor how many times did they reject you. You didn't cry when they told you she was dead for at least a week, and that her boyfriend was missing. You had no tears left in you. It had simply ended you.

All your lies, every single one of them, destroyed. But you needed them. Of course you weren't talking to her by text, you never did. And fuck, you don't even want to know who was answering instead of her. It was so obvious how she never wanted to call, how she was never leaving her house. But the eye you saw at the peephole. The fucking eye...

You don't want to think about it.

Ethan tried to talk to you. He went to your hotel and found you. You didn't bother to move this time as you were done with your life. He fell to his knee and started begging and crying for your forgivness. Did you even love him ? Or were you, are you, just lonely ? Unfortunately, you decided to forgot the anger you had against him when you realized he was the only thing you had. Your only support. The only one knowing you were a victim. You spent the days crying in his arms.

"Shhh, shhh, I'm here, love. It's okay." he reassured you, again.

It was a routine, now. You'd sleep the days away and when you'd wake up, you'd find yourself crying inconsolably. Everything was your fault, you kept repeating in your head. She's fucking dead because of you.

You wanted to end it all but Ethan wanted you alive at every cost. He was brushing your hair, feeding, washing and changing you. You were a lifeless doll. Sometimes, his roomate would come and talk to you. Most of the times, you don't even realize he's talking to you, too lost in your thought to proceed his presence.

"It's okay, everything's okay."

Ethan hugs you firmly. Kissing your hairline. His t-shirt was damped. Your eyes were burning. Every time you closed them, the picture of your friend would come and haunt you, a new nightmare coming. You weren't able to think about something else anymore. But it was your fault. You put her in danger, you got her killed. It was you Ghostface wanted, not her. You got her killed.

"I want to leave..." you whispered in a voice so hoarse, so weak, it didn't sound like yours. His hand goes on the back of your head to pull you towards him.

"No, no my love. It's okay. I'll protect you. You won't be alone anymore." his leg goes over yours and crushes them to prevents you from moving.

Alone.

Have you ever been alone in your life ? No, he was here all along. He was watching you all along. You never were truly alone. He had your adress, your friend's adress, your number and even Ethan's name. No, he's always here. Lurking.

"Just... Stay with me, I'll protect you. Please, don't leave me." he begs.

He looked calm, surprisingly calm being given the situation. But you needed it, in a way. If he doesn't freak out, you don't need to. (you coudn't, even if you wanted to) He probably know what to do. It was too late for you but he could do something. Maybe. His behaviour was slightly comforting. It was dangerous, mostly for him. He probably didn't even know what he was doing, he probably didn't know what he was getting himself into, in fact.

But once, just for once, you wanted to be helped. You wanted someone to listen to your pleas. He was going to die, it was a fact. And yeah, maybe you were selfish, you were condamning him after all.

"I feel like I'm using you. Like I manipulated you. you say, mostly for your own conscience than for his safety.

-Use me, love. I don't care. Manipulate me, whatever. I swore I'd help you. And if I have to risk my life doing it, I'll do it. I love you. You don't know the things I'd do for you.

-Now, you're the one manipulating me...

It was true. He was forcing you to think you had a chance in getting out of this situation when you knew there were none.

-Oh baby, you have no idea how manipulative I can be to obtain what I want.

-If you say so." you whisper, drifting to sleep once again, knowing you'd wake up hours later in the same position, in the same problem and knowing you killed your friend.

[randompolykin]

Intro Post

Welcome To The Storm.

i have been procrastinating making one of these for a while now so here you go.

I don't know how people can post their names on here, or their ages. Like what :0 I could not do that. (So if you need to refer to me, you can do so by my username) I do feel comfortable telling you this stuff:

The labels I use to identify my gender identity are genderfluid, nonbinary, transgender, genderflux, xenogender, fluidflux, and specifically genderspirit. At least that's the basics.

When it comes to sexuality/romantic attraction I consider myself frayromantic and neptunic, I am also aceflux.

also with being median system, I actually have a bunch that contradict each other, aka have sexualities that aren’t these.

abit more on my sexuality can be found in this post

I might reblog centaurworld, smg4, the amazing digital circus, wings of fire, or good omens related posts or other fandom stuff sometimes too.

i am a polymorph

link to post with my complete (well not complete, but a bigger list) list of kintypes, hearttypes and kinsiderings

some of my kintypes and hearttypes in little detail:

kins: black cat, dragon, sprollie dog, attack helicopter (not jk/ i am gen) cabincore, emoticons (or the concept of) cryptidkin, stormkin (its kinda complecated tho)

hearts: fall, halloween, sloths, crows,

Now onto other things you should know about me and some silly not as important but also interesting ones:

my spelling isn't the best, sorry, i dont have auto correct.

I am afraid of being wrong (mainly because I'm worried I am somehow hurting people by it)

I have trust/opening up issues

I struggle with imposter syndrome

I probably have undiagnosed anxiety of some kind but have yet to do research on it

I probably have long term depression. it's better than it once was, put its still there.

I have associative synesthesia and the types I care to name are olp, grapheme-color and chromesthesia but I know of more things that are probably types with their own names that I have.

I'm a vegetarian (it's funny because a bunch of my kintypes are carnivores or really like eating meat)

I'm a furry and have this going on where I'm turning my animal kin and heartypes into furry OCs and fursonas but I haven't gotten far in it. I'm also questioning being my protogen oc

I'm a median system. im trying to tallk about it more, but its kinda scary as im new to it...

Uh I might post random art doodles idk tho.

Besides that mostly I'll post and reblog alterhuman stuff (mainly otherkin probably)

Also please ask me stuff!!! Curious on how I experience being an aesthetic? Want to learn more about my angel kintype? Etc, please ask!

Profile pic is my kintype, the nowhere king, with the genderfluid, frayromantic, and loveless aro flags. And my banner is light doodles of some of my kintypes

When it comes to a tagging system I am trying to make one but it is barly in existance rn but i used more of these a bit back. but the reblog tag (altho I might forget to tag a reblog as reblog sorry if I do)

Also all posts with swearing in them will be tagged with #tw swearing

I don't usually swear myself but I will reblog stuff that has swears in them

#reblog (these are simply reblogs. Can be of anything. These will not have me adding my thoughts in tags or replies)

#my reply (reblogs with my reply/my thoughts on it/ad ons, also might be tagged with #my ad ones (if it's adding on to what the poster is saying specific vs a reply of anykind))

#my reply tags(or my tag replies) (same thing but in the tags specifically. Add on version is #my tag ad ons)

#not ah related (not alterhuman related, includes reblogs)

#not ok related (not otherkin related, alterhuman related posts that are not otherkin related are included here)

#i am a mess of kinsidering (a ranty vent post about my lastest kintype to question or re-question or be confused over want to classify an identity as beyond otherkin, etc)

#silly post time (silly posts, not reblogs. This would be me making a post that says "nom nom nom garbage" and # it with therian and otherkin tags. Can be ah, ok, and not related.) (if not ah or ok related I will put those tags in)

#silly reblogs (me rebloging these types of posts)

#serious post (speaking up about an issue or trying to spread the word about something important etc)

#serious reblog (same as ⬆️ but a reblog)

#positivity spreading reblog (rebloging a positivity spreading post. can include #my ad ones posts)

#positivity spreading post (a positivity spreading post originally made by me)

#term coining reblog (coined terms not by me but that I have rebloged)

#oh me terms yas (term coining posts by others that have a term I want to use/represent me)

#flag coining reblog

#save (posts I want saved for any reason.)

#saving this to show my friend in case their ah (I'm pretty sure one of my friends I alterhuman but I'm not sure so I'll show them certain posts and see if they relate)

#storm talk (talking about being (apart of) a storm

#little grey cloud rambles (rambles as a little grey cloud)

#more about me

That's all I can think of for now, i update this from time to time tho.

[rainthespiritual]

Omg for your pre-death Tate fanfic maybe you could do them as friends at childhood and they slowly drift apart and y/n sorta forgets about Tate but he thinks about her everyday and then she catches him doing cocaine or cutting himself in the school bathroom and y/n realises Tate needs support so she be's that for him and stuff

pt 1 , pt 2

PRE-DEATH TATE LANGDON FIC

Okay im kind of really proud of this fic ITS SO GOOD (or maybe I'm just delusional... anywaysss.)

btw some trigger warnings for the series as a whole are deffinetly: drug abuse , depression , suicide , and topics similar to that even if they don't show up in this specific part THEY WILL EVENTUALLY so I just want yall to be warned ty

TRIGGER WARNINGS : tate langdon is a tw tbh and American horror story in general, smoking, talk of abusive dad and family slightly(it'll be talked abt more in other parts), angst, this part is more tame that the other parts will be and thats all... for now.

Summery: Y/n stumbles into the bathroom only to find old childhood friend Tate...

also sorry if formatting is shit I'm using my phone fml

You walk with your friends down the hall you've seen again and again, tuning them out almost completely like usual. They talk a lot of shit about people you don’t even know. And while gossip can be fun, they are just over the top with it. Every day, it seems they’ve found another thing to complain about.

"___ are you even listening? This is way serious!" you look towards them bags under your eyes they didn't even notice, they never ask or worry about you but expect all of that from you. It was extremely draining, and you often wondered why you still hung around them. But the fear of being alone was stronger than the need to be treated better. You didn’t have anyone else.

"oh no sorry, I was thinking about the project I have to do for Mrs.Ross. Hey, you guys go ahead of me I gotta head to the powder room real quick.." they try talking to you more but you manage to peel yourself away from them as fast as you can, basically sprinting to the bathroom.

You fall sitting on the floor releasing a sigh, glad you could now get a moment of peace and silence.

"___?" your eyes dart open hearing a familiar voice.. a familiar male voice.. in the girl's bathroom?

"Tate? what- what are you doing in here?" you look at him, slightly shocked. You hadn’t spoken to him in what seemed like forever. But truthfully, it had only been a couple of years, well maybe more than that, but long enough for him to have grown. He looks less like a boy, and more like a man now.

"I mean, I should probably be asking you that.. this is the boys' bathroom." He smiles slightly and you notice he's sitting on the counter where the sinks are.

"oh, I- I must have come in the wrong one. I'm sorry.." you look at him again, noticing how much older he looks than when you last saw him. Well, you saw him in the halls and even smiled or waved at him slightly, but you never really talked to him.

"ahh, it's fine. No one else is here just me. I think everyone's in class or at least getting there. The bells are about to ring." he smiles again wiping his nose slightly sniffling it, and you wonder why. ‘Maybe it's allergies’ you think.

"What are you doing up there?" You ask, signaling to the way he's sitting.

"Well, this bathroom is the least used so no one comes in usually.." mumbling a bit he avoids the question, now nervously playing with his fingers.

"I didn't know that, that doesn't answer my question tho. why sit up here?" you stand going to where he is climbing up to sit next to him.

"well just normal stuff I guess." he looks at you slightly thinking a bit before pulling a pack of cigarettes out making you gulp slightly. The only cigarettes you had encountered had been your father's. You tried smoking one when you were 13 but you immediately regretted it vowing to never smoke one again.

"you want one?" he asks smirking slightly at you.

"Oh- no thanks I don't smoke." he laughs slightly putting one in his mouth and lighting it.

"didn't think so." he inhales and puffs the smoke out and you wonder how he can do that without feeling completely ill.

"what does that even mean, I didn't think you smoked but you do so...." you fumble with your fingers slightly nervous around the now much older boy. The last time you talked to him he had to be 11. Maybe 12. It had been years, and you wondered why, why didn't we talk why did we stop being friends..

"well you look innocent, and like you've never touched anything ever." he laughs slightly, "could be wrong though." he continues smoking the cigarette, shaking the ashes from it into the sink. you assume so they can wash down.

"Well I've smoked once, I just absolutely hated it.  mostly did it to spite my dad I guess" you admit, slightly watching him.

"How old were you? you always did hate that fucker. I remember us hiding his beers and shit so he wouldn't be able to find them, he'd get so mad." He states you both laugh slightly.

"I was thirteen? Maybe fourteen. somewhere around there. and I don't hate him, he's just overly annoying all the time."

he laughs slightly thinking the way you feel about the whole thing is cute.

His eyes look you over multiple times, he is clearly taking you in. He had seen you around since the last time you talked but not this full on. Only from afar, never up close. He enjoyed seeing the way you grew into the body he once knew, the face he knew. You looked so much older now it kind of made him sad, seeing how much time had gone by. It really made him think. He wished he had talked to you or atleast tried too, but seeing you with your new friends made him nervous. He never was one to fit in with the popular crowd so he avoided you. And now he deeply regrets it realizing how stupid he was.

"Well. If I'm remembering correctly you kind of did hate him. He was an asshole to you, don't know if that's still true but.. it's what I remember so." you sigh knowing he's partially correct.

"So you're just in here to smoke? or what. I mean you could do that after school or whatever." You ask slightly to change the subject but also because you just are genuinely curious.

"Well.." he starts but stops to think looking away fumbling with his pocket slightly  and you can tell there's something inside. It seems to be a little tin but you can't be sure. "I just wanted to be alone I guess , away from the chaos that is a highschool hallway." he finishes putting his cigarette out and back in the box, you assume to finish later as you've learned from your dad. You both sit in silence for a bit and you realize how weird it is that you came to the same bathroom for the same reason, but there's also a slight comfort in the thought. Knowing you weren't the only one sick of all the noise was comforting because that meant you weren't that weird. Or at least you weren't the only weird one. Either way it made you feel a little better, and it made you wonder more and more why you let this sweet sarcastic boy go.

"That's why I came in here too, I just was.. Over it I guess. Done with being around other people.." you look away slightly avoiding his gaze, him staring at you so intensly made you nervous. Without hesitation he asks you something you don't expect.

"Do you like to be around me?" It's such a bold and forward question that you don't really expect from him. His tone is serious and you realise how much closer he is now, his eyes look into yours and you stare back. The silence says more to both of you than words ever could and it feels like forever almost, when in reality it was only like 30 seconds.

"I do yeah, I feel like you actually know me." He smiles at your words looking away for a moment taking it all in. His eyes meet yours again and he leans in closer. His eyes go to your lips and back to your eyes a couple times, and your eyes do the same.

"Excuse me is anyone in here?" Both your eyes widen slightly hearing a teacher opening the door slightly. Tate jumps off the sink now looking at the door then at you. He signals for you to hide in one of the toilet stalls, which you immediately do. You sit up on the toilet so your feet aren't seen through the slit at the bottom and you hear him start the sink. You think, 'probably to wash down the ashes'.

The teacher walks, his voice loud.

"Aren't you supposed to be in class Mister Langdon?" You cover your mouth trying to conceal your breathing, and you hope it works.

"I mean yeah but.. Y'know.." You can't see him but you assume he gestures towards the bathroom, and the teacher let's out a loud sigh.

"Uh huh, and any idea why the bathroom smells like smoke?" the teacher talks in a angry tone and you feel bad hoping he doesn't get into trouble.

"No idea sir, it smelled like that when I got here." The teacher sighs again almost like he doesn't believe him.

"Okay well come with me, I'll make sure you get to class on-time." you hear them walk out, and the door shut.

Still slightly frozen you stay for a moment  but tense up when the door opens again.

"Meet me here again tommorow, same time." you take a sigh of relief realizing it's just Tate again. With that he walks out again saying something about how he got what he left in the bathroom.

You sigh in relief again kind of asking yourself what the hell just happened. It was weird seeing how affected you were from it all day. It was all you could think about in class, and at lunch. Even at home when you were laying in bed alone, it was weird seeing how one boy you knew so long ago could effect you now. You kind of enjoyed the feeling. The anticipation. You were excited to see him the next day, and you wondered what would happen.

'I guess I'll just have to find out tomorrow..' you thought to yourself. I guess you just will.

[wehaveimagineshere]

Hey I don't know if either of you would be comfortable with doing this (totally chill if not) but could I request something for Carlos Oliveira comforting his s/o through an anxiety episode? My doctor is moving around my medication and the adjustment is making my anxiety attacks/depressive tendencies worse and im also scared to go to sleep due to nightmare issues.

iirc the Ren (the RE mod) only does scenarios but if I'm wrong any format is fine. Thanks for reading. You two have a nice day.

Anxiety and depression sucks, anon. I hope your new medication works soon and the demons are pushed back. I'm proud of you for fighting through it, for waking up every day <3

You're my first Resident Evil request! :D And for Carlos no less! Thank you so much, and I hope this scenario helps you <3

You didn't specify gender or pronouns, so it defaults to AFAB and she/her.

~*~*~

Your grip on the bathroom sink counter turns your knuckles white, your chest squeezing as you stare at your pajamas heaped next to the sink. Next to the toothpaste, that you inevitably have to use. Next to the toothbrush, your first step in this nightly ritual.

Maybe skipping all of this for one night wouldn't hurt. Maybe, maybe you could just go to bed with the clothes on your back, jeans and bra and socks included.

The familiar acid behind your eyes burns, throat constricting as you grip that counter for dear life. A short inhale, a whooshed exhale.

You don't want to do this.

Pressing your lips together to hide their quiver, you crouch down to escape the mirror, to escape the evidence as tears slip past. You grip the counter so hard it hurts, but the pain doesn't register as the tide erupts, filling your chest and lungs and limbs and--

Did you do anything productive today? Did you do it all the right way? Your hamper is full, why didn't you do your laundry? That lunch meat in your fridge is about to go bad and all you had today was toast instead. You need to eat or you'll feel worse, but what's the point? Every day leads to night and night leads to--

"I'm home!"

The call cuts into your thoughts, pausing them for just a moment before they shift direction.

Inhaling feels like swallowing glass as you rise, loosening your white knuckled grip to wipe at your wet face, to rub at your red eyes. Fingers tangling in your shirt, you almost whimper as your arm gets stuck in the fabric and you almost rip the seams in your haste.

Tossing the shirt onto the floor, you fumble as you regret the decision, trying and failing to grab it. Chest heaving, your fingers can't stop shaking as you try desperately to unlatch your bra, to be seen as being at least half way into getting dressed like a normal person.

"Honey?"

He's in the bedroom now and your fingers can't grab the hooks, they won't bend like you want them to and they won't stop shaking shaking shaking--

"Hey. Hey hey hey." Warm hands gently grip your upper arms, turning you to face him as his brown eyes dart. You know he notes the redness in your face and eyes, your inability to take a damn breath, the movements you can't stop as you choke down the tears--

"Hey," he breathes again, running his hands down your arms to guide your fingers away from your back and into his palms. "Take a deep breath." You nearly choke, and he squeezes your fingers, thumb running along your knuckles. "Inhale." You try again. "Good, good. Now exhale."

You do, feeling that damn lower lip quiver again and trap it between your teeth.

"One more time. Good."

This is ridiculous, you're ridiculous, why can't you just be normal like everyone else?

"Hey." Laying one hand on top of your other, his free hand cups your cheek, a thumb brushing away a stray tear. "You're safe, you're okay, I'm here. What do you need?"

You need to have normal dreams. You need to be able to plan your day without worrying about the wildest, stupidest things. You need to be able to make your breakfast without worrying if you're putting the correct things in the recycling even though you've put them there a hundred times already.

All that comes out is a broken sob.

"Can I hug you?"

A sniff, a small nod, and your cheek is pressed against his chest as he wraps you in his warmth. One arm snakes around your waist as another goes around your shoulders, his hand resting lightly against the back of your neck.

The tears come fully then, sobs wracking your body. Gripping him tight, Carlos your pillar in the storm, you break apart. Know you can shatter and he'll help you pick up the pieces, loving every shard put back into place, no matter how crooked the final picture becomes.

Fingers play with your hair soothingly as you ride out the panic, as it drains you so completely, as you soak Carlos' shirt with your tears. It could've been minutes or hours but eventually the river dries up, your lungs can take a deeper gulp of air, and your fingers can relax their death grip on his shirt.

"'M'sorry," you mumble out.

"For what?" His voice rumbles in his chest, against your cheek. "For being the biggest badass I've ever known?"

Trying to scoff but only achieving a small huff of air, you croak out, "'M'not."

"Of course you are." He rests his chin on the crown of your head. "You're the bravest person I know."

You roll your eyes.

"I felt that." You feel him pause. "Hey, do something for me." Turning you both so your eyes are directed at the mirror, he continues, "What do you see?"

Weakness, stupidity, uselessness, futility--

"I see a woman who got her pajamas ready even though she doesn't want to sleep." His fingers graze against your neck, knowing the movement will keep your eyes focused on your reflection. "I see a woman who woke up not feeling well but got out of bed anyway."

"I can't stay in bed all day," you mumble.

"That's what I'm talking about. You could stay in bed all day, but you don't. You could just drink a shit ton of coffee to stay awake, but you don't. You could call out of work, but you don't." He rubs his cheek against your head, presses his lips in for a quick kiss. "It's easy to do what I do and shoot things, but what you do? I don't know if I could do that."

A few more tears slip out, but this time accompanied with a small smile on your lips. Strained, pained, but a smile nonetheless.

"And to still look stunning doing it all?" He smiles wide, giving you a wink through the mirror. "Strong and good looking."

That smile pulls just a little wider. "I look like shit."

"You look like you just beat the hell out of some demons and walked away the winner. That's sexy. Hell is literally a part of a demon's make up."

The scoff sounds a little bit more like a scoff now. "Looking like I just climbed out of a ditch is sexy?"

"Hell yeah it is. I ever tell you the color of your eyes pop after you've cried?"

"No."

"Well, the color of your eyes pop after you cry." He cups your cheeks and turns your face to his, his nose brushing against yours as he squints. "Beautiful."

"You're so cheesy."

"Does it work?"

You press your lips together and squint in faux contemplation.

"I'm taking that as a yes."

Rolling your eyes, the smile finally breaks free.

"There it is," he smiles back, giving a peck of a kiss on your nose. "You'll be okay?"

Wiping a hand across your eyes, you exhale heavily. "I'll be okay."

"So..." A hand leaves a cheek to snake down your shoulder blades, and you raise an eyebrow as he asks with a light, playful smile, "Need help with this?" A finger slips under your bra strap, right against the clasp.

"Aiming to practice, are you?"

"I don't need practice, princess. Taking off a bra is easy."

"Y'okay, big guy." Sharing a smile, you shake your head. "I'll be alright. Thank you."

That smile morphs into a genuine one. "You're welcome." Stepping back, he gives you a long, searching look before flashing a relieved smile and padding back into the bedroom. "Hurry up and get dressed!"

"So bossy!" you call, turning back to your pajamas. Your hands rests atop the fabric, muscles threatening to lock again.

"I wanna cuddle!"

A huff of a laugh escapes your nose, taking with it the rest of the tension running through your body, and you hurriedly free the girls before slipping on your pajama shirt.

[blu3haw4]

He's not yours Clarke

I... did thought of and angsty little moment of G!P Clarke and pregnant Lexa letting her know that the baby is not hers... but we are NOT going down that path... this is still a little angsty but not too much.

Ill take it for a little insight into my famous au

This entire universe is planned out ln my head but as a fic I've only ever imagined small scenes (and posted some) but can't seem to settle down on a way to write it. One heavy thing about this story is that Lexa deals with depression, anxiety, and both a sleeping and an eating disorder bc of her job, and it actually takes a while for her to get out of the environment causing it and even longer to heal from it all. One random fact about this universe though is that Lexa adopts a dog. I imagine she does the buzzfee puppy interview and there's this one little guy that consistently pushed her or jumps at her before drifting away and coming back again. She's like a month and a half away from finishing her contact with her current oppressing (homofobic) label, and she just needs to take him home with her.

"I'm gonna have to take you home. And that's not good budy. Nono, I'm a busy woman. Im gonna have to call my dad and you and I are gonna be in trouble" is what she keeps telling the dog while the cameras still roll.

She ends up naming him krasha (wave in trigedasleng (or at least that's what i remember it meant))

At this point on the timeline, her and Clarke have been dating for two and a half years, privately and secret to the public eye. When she goes to Clarke's and introduces Krasha and her plan to have her dad baby(doggy?)sit until she's done with work, she keeps trying to say it can be their dog and Clarke keeps making sure Lexa knows it's her dog. Not a malicious way, not mean or afraid of commitment, just reminding her that it was her decision and thus her son. (I used to have a fake twitter thread of them earlier that same year joking that they would get a dog, but i can't find it now, it even involves their mothers saying they were to young to be grandmas)

Clarke keeps going with little jokes like "your dog peed inside" or "your dog kept me up all night howling at nothing" (she was the one who thought him how to howl but she changes the subject every time is bought up)

Is years down the line, on a random bad day for Lexa that Clarke tells her she can take care of Krasha while she takes her of herself that Lexa snaps a little, Clarke didn't call krasha hers or implied it really, but Lexa is upset and she needs a distraction.

"He's not yours, Clarke. Isn't that what you're always saying?" She sounds more defeated than she would like, and it all takes Clarke by surprise, she paused, unsure of where the conversation is going.

"I am perfectly capable of taking care of my dog" Lexa continues "He's not yours Clarke, so don't worry, ill figure it out"

"Hey. Okay, wait" Clarke shakes her head with a little frown and her eyes closed, catching up on Lexa's mood, and knowing exactly how to handle the situation.

"First of all, I never said you weren't capable, neither was i complaining about taking care of him, i was offering. Second, i am aware he's not mine, but you are my girlfriend, taking care of you is my thing, one i do happily. Okay?" Clenched jaw and hardening eyes stared at her, but ultimately Lexa nodded.

"Now, krasha being yours and not ours or mine has never been about me not wanting him, Lex. I love the little shit so much and i have since the moment you got him. And I love even more what he represents to you and your healing process" at this Lexa's eyes soften a little, a pause, a willingness to understand what Clarke is telling her.

"The decision you made? When you adopted him? That was the first time since you signed the contract with flamekeepers that you made a decision all on your own and all for yourself. You weren't thinking about me when you picked him, you weren't thinking about what anyone would tell you, you wanted him and you got him. Lexa krasha was the first step into your freedom from the dickhead of your manager, he was the first selfish decision you took since telling me the truth about the closeting, since we first kissed. The fact that it was all you was so important to me, for you to see, for you to own it. For him to be yours and solely yours." Tears began streaming down Lexa's cheeks and Clarke calmly wiped them away, unbothered by the show of emotions, and satisfied that Lexa understands.

"I'm sorry if it even came across differently, and I'm sorry I've never said it before"

"No, it's okay. I've never doubt it. I've always known it had to be something like that, I'm just... im sorry i snapped"

"Okay baby, don't worry, i kwon. I know it's been a bad day... just remember that im here" Lexa nodded closing her eyes and leaning into Clarke's open arms, melting into the hug "I love you, Lexa. And I love that little monster and all the little things I've taught him that bite me in the ass more often than not" Lexa giggled into her shoulder and as if on cue, the tip-tap of claws came closer into their (Clarke's) bedroom [They don't leave together yet... technically, since Lexa still has her own place]

"I love you too, Clarke, thank you" Lexa was able to say before krasha started woofing at them from the floor as if complaining about not being invited into the cuddles.

:)

I've done some research for how i imagine him and I've come down to say he's a husky and German shepherd and pitbull/boxer/bulldog (some smaller dog) mix, i don't think I'll ever truly specify it bc i actually down know if the pictures i have match too well BUT the point is that when he eventually grows up, he's not too big, but has that beautiful face of a husky AND a German shepherd (and the terrible need to howls all the time).

[sketch-guardian]

I feel like I need to start adding a -___ anon because of how much I send requests now, I would love to send them without anon but it���s honestly so scary to post or comment anything 😞

I don’t know if you’re very comfortable with writing certain types of mental illnesses, like I saw on your boundaries post that you were fine writing mental and physical conditions but I just wanna know if you’re comfortable with a request where child mc has like ptsd or depression and always seems to be sad and gloomy (turns out it’s from bullying back in the home realm.) I really like seeing posts where child mc isn’t very energetic since I didn’t really get that very happy experience and can’t relate (〃▽〃)

Also I wish there was a snow leopard emoji, that’d be so cool. I love snow leopards

SORRY IF THIS IS A LOT OF WORDS, IM STILL REALLY NEW TO SENDING STUFF THAT ISNT TO PEOPLE I KNOW 🫶🏻🫶🏻

Well, there's no obligation to add a -___ anon, only if you feel like it🤷🏻and don't worry, I know how scary it can be to write openly to people you don't know or are close to🙈so it doesn't matter the number of asks you send, if you prefer to stay anonymous, so be it, it's not a problem☺As a (hopefully) future psychologist (I'm still studying at university-), it doesn't make me uncomfortable to talk about such topics, I just hope to write them well and not make too many mistakes😖so your ask is perfectly fine and I thank you for asking anyway just to be safe💜Furthermore, as a child I was very quiet and lazy, I was sometimes compared to a doll even though I was content, so more or less I can relate and I hope you are doing better now✨Also I agree, more animal emojis should be added💕(perhaps you could be snow leopard anon?🤔). Now let's get started with the platonic headcanons, I assumed you wanted all OCs btw🙈:

"RAD CLASSMATES+NEW EXCHANGE STUDENTS WITH A CHILD MC WHO HAS DEPRESSION/PTSD"

DEMYA

Demya didn't spend an exactly normal childhood, firstly due to the type of environment in which she was born as a demon, part of a bloodthirsty tribe, and secondly due to the events that characterized her turbulent past, that is, having seen her family die in front of the her eyes and then being imprisoned in a human circus as a freak, chained and malnourished, only later when she was freed was she able to begin her journey of recovery. Demya might seem brash and prone to violence, in some respects she is, however she softens towards children and with child MC in particular she would be very protective, especially considering what they had to go through. Demya would not tolerate abuse towards child MC and would ask them to give her all the names of those who bullied them on Earth, not to kill them, not wanting to get child MC into trouble and considering that most likely the bullies are children as well, but simply to scar them for life and thus prevent them from finding other victims, the sight of her bloodied on the ceiling should be enough. Demya would also feel sorry for child MC being miserable most of the time and would try in her own way to make them happier, to make them overcome their trauma, because together they are stronger, Demya would always welcome child MC into her arms in case of need of comfort and they could stay in her nest (of blankets and pillows) for as long as they need to

DOMNRA/MOBIM

Domnra had a fairly normal childhood, according to celestial standards at least, given that as a soldier, he was trained to fight from a young age. The most difficult period of Domnra's life began after his fall from the Celestial Realm and after Mobim's birth, it took him time to metabolize and get used to the new situation. Child MC would remind Domnra of Mobim during its first days of existence: small, weak, helpless and afraid. Having matured over time and having learned to take care of Mobim, Domnra would try to help child MC learn how to defend themselves, both physically and emotionally, from bullies or fears, because they would have the full right to assert their own person. Domnra would become like child MC's shadow, always at their side in case of danger, as a figure to hide behind or as a shoulder to cry on, anyone who mistreats child MC should pass through Domnra first if they have the courage. Mobim would also help make child MC feel less sad, becoming their friend, playmate and comforting them, without the need for words and showing child MC that crying is good for letting off steam

AZUL

Azul was a happy and energetic child, who enjoyed running among flowers along with colorful butterflies, without a care in the world, his mood management problems began in adulthood, after his fall from the Celestial Realm. Azul is a very empathetic demon when it comes to feelings, especially those of people he cares about, so when he would sense child MC's sadness, his colors would change from light blue to dark blue in a sense of recognition and Azul would carry child MC in his arms, to comfort and console them. Azul would be worryingly quiet at the news of child MC being a victim of bullying and it's likely that one day, in the form of a spirit, he will enter the bullies' bedroom and scare them so much that they will never repeat such actions again. Azul would try to help and support child MC to find a way to express themselves, such as drawing or photography and as he is better trained in managing emotions, he would try to help child MC overcome their depression, one step at a time, always by their side, showing pride at every small milestone achieved

ZURI

Since she was a child, Zuri has always followed a rather rigid discipline and had to meet very high expectations from other angels towards her, therefore she didn't spend much time playing or having fun as perhaps it would have been more appropriate for a young angel, too busy excel and show herself as a symbol of purity. Old habits die hard, so even after she became a demon, Zuri remained a perfectionist, however she would never want something like that for child MC, after the way they have already suffered. With Zuri, there would be no expectations of happiness and joy to respect, but rather a probable professional therapeutic path, for child MC's sake, to provide them with the tools to process their trauma and work on their depression. Zuri would probably explain to child MC that the bullies who bothered them have likely been through difficult situations, however that doesn't excuse their actions and child MC would not be required to forgive them, but rather to move on with their life and heal. Anyone who has any comments to make about child MC's behavior should respond personally to Zuri and while not often very loving, Zuri would cradle child MC in her arms during depression or ptsd episodes

ODON

Odon had a bizarre childhood due to their ancient eldritch nature, they don't know what it means to have a family and as a child they did anything to feel a single emotion, even if it meant committing genocide. Over time Odon got "bored", because suffering became repetitive and they realized that showing kindness received much more interesting and varied reactions, that was the reason for the beginning of Odon's change for the better, however difficulties weren't lacking, since everyone was too afraid of them. Odon knows what it means to be marginalized and isolated, they also know sadness although they don't show it, therefore Odon would be very understanding and patient with child MC's issues, accompanying them step by step during their growth. No sane person would be stupid enough to bully child MC given Odon's reputation, so they would stop being teased, while as for the rest, Odon would read stories with child MC on their lap while they drink a hot beverage, to make them feel protected and safe for once, with even the eye-like creatures in tow as silent guardians. Odon would go back to being the monster they were in order to ward off the evil that afflicts child MC, after all, how could pain approach child MC, in Odon's even scarier presence?

REMIEL

Remiel had a lonely childhood and not exactly by choice. As a half angel-half nephilim, many angels, the most conservative ones, have always seen Remiel as a sin, an impure angel not worthy of being called such and having always been very literal-minded, despite the reassurances from her mother Azrael and her father Death, Remiel could never help but see such statements as the truth, because after all they weren't entirely wrong, she wasn't a pure celestial being, she have learned to live with it, however Remiel would see child MC's situation as unfair, being different. Since both child MC and Remiel are often gloomy and somber, they could actually be mistaken for related. As an angel of death, Remiel would frequently face issues such as depression and negative feelings, therefore she would be quite capable of making child MC feel better, having comforted several human souls in the past. One thing that child MC would appreciate before going to sleep would be, for example, having Remiel embrace them with her wings while softly humming them a lullaby that her mother Azrael used to sing to her when she was a child

NATHANIEL

Nathaniel, although he has always been a quiet angel even as a child, who let himself be carried away by the course of events, has always felt as if he was not in control of his actions, as if his destiny was in the hands of someone superior who controlled his every move and emotional response. As an extremely patient angel, caring for and managing a child MC with depression or ptsd would not necessarily be a problem, if anything a challenge, which Nathaniel would not intend to give up or abandon for any reason. Nathaniel would try to teach child MC how to let non-constructive criticism and insults slide over them, using failures as material to grow and improve, killing with kindness when possible those who show resentment towards them for no reason. Nathaniel is chill, but when annoyed he would be quite scary, so people would hardly bother child MC in his presence, also Nathaniel would show child MC the wonders of the world, trying to rekindle the spark of life in them. Nathaniel would always be child MC's guide

URIEL

Uriel's childhood was characterized by continuous attempts on her part to show her worth of becoming a warrior angel and by seeking compliments to feel valid, no matter how many times she fell and felt inadequate, she always got up in order to reach her goals and Uriel would like to help child MC achieve their dream whatever it may be, however she's aware that first they should be motivated enough and that currently it would be too soon. Uriel would see child MC being a victim of bullying as a real violation of justice and as an angel who represents it, she would go straight to the bullies, making them regret and reconsider every choice in their life and she would force them to apologize to child MC personally, with the threat of them going to hell if they act bad again or even worse, even if they ended up in heaven, then they would have to deal with Uriel. Uriel would act as child MC's shield and sword, promising that when they're unable to fight, she will protect them, for as long as they need, that she'll be the rock on which they can lean when they don't feel well

(also here's a small bonus of some OCs reaction to child MC fighting back against a bully):

[uncloseted]

I adore your account about Cassie but i genuinely hate effy.. she is the least likable charcater in the show, i mean yeah her mental disorder affects how she acts but couldnt they make her more likable? All of the charcaters in the show had problems but they were still more likable than she is, if for example her depression was caused by seeing tony getting hit by a bus, freddie's mother killed herself but he was still a caring sweet person unlike her and a lot of charcaters has been through worse than her but she acts like shes the only person w troubles lmao, divorce is sooo common that it doesnt even give the person an excuse to be asshole, she literally held hands with freddie in class and kissed him then goes at the end of the episode and fuck his best friend, she didnt deserve him any bit.

she also goes on and hits katie with a rock out of self defense but then doesnt tell anything to anyone and goes to fuck freddie and leaves her there? Come on now. she somehow feels like a side character even though most charcaters in the show like her because her personality is so hollow and boring and incredibly flawed more than everyone in gen 2.

yeah kaya is gorgeous and effys style is amazing, but i feel like thats the only thing likable the charcater has, i think if she was bad looking no one would even like her even Freddie or cook, because thats the reason they all liked her from the beginning isnt it? Just her looks. And anyways why the hell she only befriends girls that guys arent usually into like panda and the girl in gen 1? Is it some thing to make her feel better about herself and not feel threatened? , because she was clearly not interested in any of them

Im so sorry for talking a lot, i genuinely love your account and your opinions though! And im interested to hear your opinion about this

No worries at all! I love when people write a lot. I don't think you're alone in finding Effy annoying, which is fine. But I think the fact that she isn't always likeable is one of the reasons why the way they portray her mental illness is so realistic. Mental illnesses are illnesses. By definition, they impact people's lives in a negative way and cause them to make decisions that they wouldn't make if they were healthy.

And Effy is no different. If you were living with the delusion that falling in love would cause otherworldly demons to break through from the other side and come torture you, you'd probably do whatever you can to push the person you're in love with away, too, you know? And with the Katie/rock situation, I think Effy doesn't totally remember or understand what happened until they can't find Katie the next day - either as a result of having been on drugs or (and this is what I believe) as a result of being in the middle of a psychotic episode. Once she realizes what happens, she does call an ambulance to find and treat Katie. Does it suck to do those things to another person? Of course. She could have killed Katie, and that's very real and very serious. But Effy can only act within the context of what she believes to be true, and her beliefs about the world are heavily influenced by her mental illness. A lot of the time, she's not really in a headspace where she can make decisions that are coherent to the outside world. And that means that she's coming from a very different place than someone like Tony, who does awful things to other people on purpose just to see what he can get away with. I've always seen her as someone who desperately needs help, and the tragedy of her storyline is that none of the people around her can provide her with the help that she needs.

I also want to talk for a second about mental illness. You said that, "all of the charcaters in the show had problems but they were still more likable than she is", but that's not really how mental illness works. While mental illness can, and often is, triggered by trauma, people with no history of trauma can also be severely mentally ill, and people with a history of trauma can be totally fine from a mental health perspective. For Effy, it seems like she was just kind of born that way. This is someone who stopped talking around the age of six and didn't start again until she was fifteen. That's hardly a person who's mentally stable, even before you account for Tony getting hit by a bus right in front of her, her mother developing depression and a pill addiction, essentially taking care of both her mother and Tony through their recovery processes, her parents having a messy divorce, and essentially being abandoned by both of them when she needs them most.

In terms of why people like her, I actually don't think it's just her looks. I think for Cook, that's maybe why he was interested in her to begin with, but for Freddie, I think he's more interested in the fact that she was willing to go up to a random stranger and lick ketchup off their face before walking away. I think Freddie means it when he says he wants to "get to know" her. To Freddie, Effy is exciting and different and kind of confusing, and he's just curious about who she is and why she acts the way that she does. And for Cook, while he starts out as being interested in Effy because of how she looks, I think he continues being interested because he idealizes Effy as this beautiful girl who will be his partner in crime and let him keep avoiding his problems. He sees her as someone who’s like him and who understands what he’s going through. And then for other people, I think they like her because she's mysterious and they want to figure her out, because her attention makes them feel special (since she doesn't often pay attention to other people) or her lack of attention makes them want to impress her, because she seems like she knows everything about them even though they know nothing about her, and just in general because she has a reputation for being fun. A person's looks can only get them so far, but their personality is why people stick around. I think a good example of that is Mini in the 3rd generation. She's absolutely beautiful, but she has a lot of trouble maintaining friendships and romantic relationships because her personality is hard to be around.

And then in terms of friends, I don't think she really chose to be friends with Julie (the girl from series 1) or with Pandora. Both of them just kind of decided they were going to be her friend and Effy didn't do anything to get rid of them. So I don't think it's Effy intentionally "[befriending] girls that guys arent usually into" or that it's "some thing to make her feel better about herself and not feel threatened", but rather that girls who are a little odd and maybe don't understand social cues are the only ones who will keep trying to hang out with her even though she's clearly not interested. And for what it's worth, I do think she loves Pandora very much, even if she's not always the best friend to Pandora. I think Effy feels like she can trust that Pandora isn't going to stop wanting to be her friend, no matter what happens, and that she really values Pandora's optimism and excitement for the world, since it's something that Effy doesn't naturally feel. Pandora is really important to her, which is why she's so hurt when Pandora sleeps with Cook, even though she doesn't actually care about Cook himself.

Like I said at the beginning, I don't think you have to like Effy, and I know a lot of people don't. But I think she's more complicated than people make her out to be and that she's not annoying for the sake of being annoying.

[ramblesbiab]

(so uh. i deleted this earlier cuz i got some negative comments and felt bad but im putting it back up now cuz i like it still.)

Gosh, slowly entering Blue Eye Samurai Tumblr is kinda disappointing with how many people are against headcannoning Mizu's gender. I personally view Mizu as a gal, which seems to be the prevailing opinion often stated with the most contempt for headcannons. But not acknowledging other interpretations goes against the very idea of literature if you ask me. Mizu's story can be viewed in plenty of ways that are all unique and wonderful.

Cis female is often defended as the only identity which properly aligns with the difficulty of fighting societal expectations of gender at the time of this story, but the fact is, any trans perspective would also obviously be against the expectations of 1600's Japan. I say any trans perspective because there's three main ones, from what I've seen at least - Trans Male, Trans Female, and Nonbinary.

I have a lot to say so I'm putting the rest under a read more lol. Also fair warning I'm not actually that good at describing things, but I promise I'm trying my best. :)

(From here on, I'll be switching Mizu's pronouns per section.)

Trans Male

Trans Male is an incredibly evident interpretation. Mizu has a traditionally male name in Japanese culture from what I've learned, binds his chest, presents as male and worries about being seen as female. Yes, there's the counterpoint to this stance of Mizu saying he "had to be a man" for the sake of getting revenge, however, he says this to a man he's taken interest in. A man who, given the society then live in, would likely not understand or agree with the idea that Mizu considers himself a man, let alone like him still.

This is a point where Mizu is, arguably, at his weakest, giving into society for the sake of happiness, which is still powerful from a trans male perspective, of a trans man feeling trapped but desperately clinging to anything that makes life feel okay, even if it involves breaking away from his own comfort.

As a trans woman I can't speak specifically on that, but in the year before I started socially transitioning, I would cling to anything that made me feel happy despite the pain of being seen as a man that came with it. It's valid for a pre- or non-transitioning trans person to sacrifice some gender comfort for other comfort if that's all they can attain for the time being.

Back to Mizu, I don't think it's less powerful for moments of "Mizu is nervous about being found to be a woman" to be turned into "Mizu is feeling pain from being misgendered and wishing he could live truly as himself." It's not an interpretation I personally follow, so I'm certain it could be better articulated by someone else, but it still upsets me that some people try to invalidate it.

Trans Female

So, this is one I haven't seen as often, or at all truthfully, but I found myself relating to Mizu as she effectively has to boymode throughout the story. It recontextualizes Mizu saying she "had to be a man", now being a truthful statement about the desperation to be seen as her real self, and turns her time as a wife into even more of an escape. Further on, it makes Mizu being referred to as a monster more depressing, as it rings true to an unfortunately real part of life, of transphobes feeling a sense of unearned betrayal upon finding out someone they like is trans.

It adds to the relief of Mizu removing her binding and relaxing, and to the pain of Mizu trying to come out to Master Eiji while he denies it. Given the society Mizu lives in, it's such a painful desire to have to want to be a girl - to know your destiny is something that will hurt you. Living as a girl would make her happy, so she doesn't want to be happy. She needs to lie, and escape from desire, so she looks for a way to feel satisfied while repressing her feminine side.

As a trans woman, this sensation is like the struggle accepting one's identity, along with trying to avoid accepting it even once it has become obvious. Being trans is not easy, it never has been, so it's not unrealistic that Mizu would latch onto priorities, or at least what she convinces herself are priorities as a method of escapism.

Honestly, it's not the easiest position to defend, as it's one of the least clear out of the possible Mizu headcannons, but it's still important to me that I pointed it out.

Nonbinary

It's time for my hottest take - Mizu's gender doesn't have to matter in the story. Yes, as many have pointed out, the disparity in social recognition between male and female can be incredibly important in their journey, but it's not required for every single interpretation of Mizu. Mizu wants revenge - they've made it evidently clear that this takes priority over everything else, over friendship, romance, and most likely, gender.

Now, I'm not saying nonbinary as a label is equal to disregarding gender, but in the case of Mizu - whose name means "water", or fluid - I feel it's applicable. I've talked a lot about priorities before as an excuse, but what if they're not? What if Mizu simply doesn't care for gender in any way? They certainly don't agree with social conventions, unless we consider how they see themselves and white men as demons, but that doesn't necessarily relate to gender.

It's hard to find direct examples of Mizu being nonbinary, as they live in an incredibly binary world where they serve as the exception. Mizu sticks out everywhere, too masculine to be a woman and too feminine to be a man, so they rest elsewhere, never seen correctly by another character in the story. Ringo says that it's okay they're a woman, Fowler insults them for it. Taigen and Akemi both have no reason to believe Mizu isn't a man, no matter how they feel about it.

Mizu only needs themself, because only they understands themself. They represent an idea that, in their time, doesn't exist - being neither man or woman - which opens up new ways of interpreting the events which Mizu goes through.

Conclusion, I guess

Which then leads to the point of this post which has gone on longer then I thought. New and unique ways to interpret a story are vital to media and literature as a whole, so why would we stop others from expressing and experiencing that? Unless a take is genuinely harmful or presented as though anyone who doesn't believe it is stupid or viewing the story incorrectly, then please, don't dissuade them - encourage them!

Learn more from others, share ideas and points about this amazing show, analysis and have fun, good-natured debates! That's the moral of this post. Have a nice day, everyone.

[i-arch-my-backula]

hello hello ! been a while since ive requested. could i get og micheal, thomas hewitt, jason, and the sinclaires with a really out-there gothic bf? im talking the whole nine miles, extravagante makeup, very gothic clothes, loud goth music, all of it. i just wanna see what their reactions would be! thank you :]

also shhhhh take the dabloons i gave you, even if it isnt applicable on tumblr. please i have too many dabloons i must share my wealth.

- 🫀

Of course I can heart anon. So I was goth for about a year before I just kind of wasn't interested in it anymore and I've had my fair share of out there looks. I've dyed my hair every color under the rainbow, I've drawn on horrible big eyeliner, etc. But I still hold an interest in goth looks, music, etc.

Slashers with an out there, goth male reader

Includes: Og Michael Myers, Thomas Hewitt, Jason Voorhees, and the Sinclair brothers

Warnings: Slashers being a little mean, mentions of self harm and mental health issues, mentions of stalking, kinda implied Stockholm syndrome

Og Michael Myers

Now Michael first started stalking you because of how out there you looked. He was so curious about your big hair and huge eyeliner.

He'd watch you very often, learning that this is just how you are and not actually a costume. This just drew him in even more.

Now as for when you start dating Michael will be a little jealous because of all the attention you're getting from strangers. He doesn't care how you dress it's the fact that other people feel the need to comment on it and constantly look at you that bothers him.

He's not too confused about why a man is wearing makeup because he doesn't fully understand gender norms but he still wonders why you do it.

I know goth music is a wide set of genres but I feel like he'd like the slow and dark music. He honestly might put on a few of your records if you're out and he's at home.

Overall Michael doesn't care so much how you dress but it is something he likes and thinks you should keep doing.

Thomas Hewitt

I wouldn't say he's scared the first time he sees you but he is kinda freaked out. Thomas is a sheltered Christian man so seeing someone like you is freaky for him. Although if he sees you wearing rosary's he's feeling a little better.

After getting to actually know you he sees that you're not that scary and that he doesn't really mind how you look. Although his family will give you odd looks and rude comments about how men shouldn't wear makeup.

As for the music Thomas is a little sacred. I know that everyone thinks he would listen to metal but if we're being honest he was raised on country music and gospel music. He doesn't mind your music it's just new and a little scary.

He'll also worry about you getting hot in all black clothing. He'll try to get you to wear lighter colors but will give up when he realizes that it's not going to happen anytime soon.

Jason Voorhees

Pamela warned him about people like you. Goth's, who according to her are all depressed and cut themselves. But upon meeting you Jason learns that's not true. You're actually pretty happy and you just enjoy dark music and clothes.

He'll watch every morning that you put on makeup. He loves seeing your process as you create thin sharp eyebrows and big black eyeliner. A little confused about why a man is wearing makeup but he honestly doesn't care too much about it

He doesn't mind the music. I feel like Jason never really listens to music anyway so this isn't too big of a deal for him

He's also glad that you don't really mind being around death. Obviously he's going to keep you away from the people he kills but it at least means that you're not going to hate him for it.

He's a little freaked out by the music. No one he's come across has had this kind of music before so it's new to him. Start off slow with The cure and Siouxsie and the Banshees.

Vincent Sinclair

Out of all of the Sinclair brothers he's the most supportive. His mother would have hated you and he loves that. Especially if you have dyed hair, piercing and or tattoos.

Speaking of dyed hair, if you have it he's obsessed with it. He'll convince Bo to go buy you more when your roots grow out and he'll help you with dying it.

He loves goth music. He loves the instrumental elements and how dramatic it sounds. I have a feeling if you gave him pictures of what some goth musicans look like he'll make some of the wax figures look like them.

He'll steal clothes from victims if he thinks you'll like the clothes and probably makes some accesories for you. He'll kinda treat you like a goth barbie doll with how he want's to constantly dress you up and do your makeup.

If his brothers ever make any kind of rude comments he's quick to shut them down. He loves you so much and he won't let Bo give you shit for wearing makeup.

Bo Sinclair

I'm not gonna lie, he's gonna think it's a sex thing. You quickly shut that down and he realizes you just genuinly like the style and music. But he also never even knew about the music element.

But like Vincent he thinks his mother would hate you and he loves that. Probably one of the reasons he keeps you alive.

He'll think you're a little gay for wearing makeup but point out how he is literally dating a man and he'll quiet down really quick.

Doesn't mind the music and will probably start listening to some of the bands you listen to as well.

He doesn't get the fashion and thinks it's just for attention but over time he won't care as much and understand it's more about self expression.

While he does (lovingly) make fun of you for being goth. If anyone else does it, especially a victim he's not having mercy on them. Sure he thinks you look ridiculous sometimes but only he can say that.

If you have piercings and tattoos he will encourage you to get more. Maybe will drop the idea of getting his named tattooed but if you don't want it then he won't force it.

Lester Sinclair

You scare him a little. But after talking for a little bit and seeing how sweet you actually are, he falls for you very hard.

Again, like his brothers he loves you even more because his mother would hate you.

Thinks your music is scary but he won't tell you that.

Loves watching you get ready and how you turn from some normal dude into a super hot vampire.

He loves to play with your hair if it's big and teased up. He knows it's crunchy form hairspray but please let him touch it Y/n.

Will gift you things made of bones and animal skins that he thinks look gothic. He's glad to have an s/o who's so into death. It makes it easy for him to talk to you about his job.

Will defend you against his brothers. Lester won't put up with Bo calling you freaky or asking if you cut yourself. Honestly I can see him getting physical with Bo if it gets to that point of him being an asshole.