#those are people's lives you're not helping/making worse by being ignorant

[queerstudiesnatural]

still upset by my therapist strongly implying that autism's biggest telltale is lack of empathy/understanding of others. not only is that factually untrue, but my problem is literally the opposite. i have too much empathy, i notice too much, i feel too much. no i don't have a problem "reading between the lines" or "inferring people's intentions" i never stop reading between the lines and inferring people's intentions. think will graham but without the murders.

[a-hazbin-reader]

could you do something about how alastor gets jealous and how he shows it? Like what things would get him jealous and stuff like that and then how he would go about it? Thank you!

I guess I gotta- 🥵

Alastor X Reader Headcanons

✅️Romantic

❌️Platonic

TW: Alastor being a red flag, Wifey is into it even though she pretends not to be, A widdle suggestive

Description: ☝️⬆️

It doesn't take much to make Alastor jealous, he has a big ego to defend and doesn't like to share your attention

He also doesn't think a lot of people are worthy of your attention so that's a big part of it

Alastor is almost childish the way he acts out when he's jealous, it's painfully obvious even though he denies it every time

He sulks and acts out to get your attention back on him, doing anything he can to make you just look at him

He's rude and intimidating to anyone he thinks is flirting with you or trying to take you for themselves

After every incident, he tries to pretend like nothing happened and refuses to acknowledge his jealous streak

Can't people just understand that you're a married woman and that Alastor deserves all of your time???

Someone is talking to you and you're laughing too hard, cheeks a little too pink? Alastor is right there to sniff out any ill intention

"What's so funny, my dear? Surely you're not gossiping without me.."

He's wrapping a protective arm around you and kissing your cheek, eyeing the other person the entire time as he asserts his husbandly dominance over them

"Hm? Oh! He was telling me a funny joke about-"

Alastor takes a break from kissing your wrist and palm to snap his gaze to the other man, a wicked gleam in his eye

"Ohhhh! So you're a clown! Wonderful~! Your attire had me wondering what you do for a living, but now it all makes sense!"

The other person is visibly uncomfortable by your husband's unspoken challenge and backs out of the conversation with their tail between their legs

"I guess he had other things to do~"

You roll your eyes as Alastor nuzzles your neck, petting his around his ears and antlers

"You're are not a very subtle man, my dear."

You're dancing with someone who's not him? Alastor will physically shut that shit down

He spends maybe a full minute pouting and ignoring everyone else around him, eyes locked on you and your dance partner

"Alastor, are you even listening?"

"Out of all the women here, why did he choose MY wife? I walked away for one second, and he snatched her up!"

He doesn't care for how closely they're holding you, the way they blush and smile from your attention

Alastor isn't having it, striding over and using his hip to push the man away from you and off the dance floor, taking your hand

You're trying not to smile at him, pressing against your husband as you take his hand and dance with him

"Alastor, that was rude..."

He simply chuckles and spins you around happily, snapping his fingers to change the song into something more romantic

"I would say I'm sorry but we both know I'm not~ Besides, I waited for my chance to dance with you!"

It's hard to stay mad at him when he's looking at you like you're the only person in the world and holding you like you're something precious

It helps that he's so handsome, you can't help but lean up and steal a kiss from him, feeling familiar butterflies at the touch

"You've been dancing with me all night, and you barely waited a minute... you greedy demon~"

He leans into your hand as you cup his cheek, tail wagging from having your undivided attention again

"Is it a crime that I want to hog my darling wife? That I crave every opportunity to dance with her and steal the show?"

He's leaning in for another kiss, and it makes you instinctively move in closer to meet his lips

"It will be if you keep injuring people~"

And those are just some examples of people who weren't flirting with you, it's so much worse when someone actually wants you

You're waiting for your husband to meet with you for your date, dressed up and looking your absolute best

When you hear a sharp whistle from behind, only to see a sleazy looking demon towering over you and eyeing your body

"And just where do you think you're going looking like that, beautiful? My place is that way~"

He's much too close, placing a hand on the wall behind you in order to keep you from running, completely unaware of the danger he's in

You can't help but roll your eyes at the situation

"I'm flattered, really I am... but I'm not interested, I'm waiting for someone, actually."

You casually move out from under his arm, completely unfazed by the way his expression darkens as you fix your appearance

"Oh really? And just who might you be waiting for? Let me guess, your boyfriend?"

He doesn't look like he believes you, making air quotes around the word boyfriend

You can't help but laugh at the poor soul, putting a hand on your hip as you whip around to face him-

"Husband, actually~ My name is Alastor though maybe you'll recognize my other name! The Radio Demon~ Maybe you've heard of me?"

It's such a treat to watch the cocky demon lose his composure in fear and so sexy to watch your husband be the cause of it

The demon is so much larger than Alastor but he's practically cowering away from him, Alastor grinning at him as he tilts his head

"Look uh-I'm sorry! I didn't realize-"

Your husband tuts at the demon, antlers already growing as he morphs into his larger demonic form

You can't help but blush at how sweet Alastor is being, rushing to your rescue like this

"Didn't realize what? That you were hitting on my wife? You think I would just stand by and let you think you have a shot with her? She's much too far out of your league, unfortunately."

He's so cute when he's jealous

"Darling, do be quick with that? I don't want to miss our reservation-and no eating him! I don't want you to spoil your appetite!"

Alastor looks at you and visibly blushes at how good you look, the other demon simply an afterthought as he tears them apart

"My dear, you look absolutely ravishing~ How am I going to keep the other men from looking at you when you're so delectable?"

He's still humongous, a large claw reaching out to stroke your leg tenderly, a lovesick expression on his face

You can practically see the hearts in his eyes~ Smiling at your husband and blowing him a kiss

"It's a good thing that you're the only man I have eyes for then, isn't it?"

He shrinks back down to his normal size and kisses your hand before wrapping an arm around you as you two walk together

"It's something that I'm extraordinarily grateful for~"

You can't help but lean your head against him, letting him nuzzle the top of your head in an affectionate manner

"Though~ I wouldn't mind a refresher of just how much you adore me...~"

You can't help but snort at the comment, gently slapping his chest before pulling him in for a kiss

"Dinner first~ You'll need your strength~"

I might go back and change this one a bit ngl

[so-long-soldier-writes]

One of Those Days

poly!mikaelsons x reader | request

summary: between the constant fighting and city clamor, you're overstimulated from the minute you wake up. you try to isolate until you feel better, but sometimes, that only makes things worse. luckily, your loving vampire partners are always there for you.

tags: sensory issues, mental health, overstimulation, arguing, mild emotional hurt / comfort

word count: ~2.6k

a/n: requested by @asexualaromosafezone - i am SO SORRY this took me literal months to complete. a couple days ago, i suddenly remembered i never filled it and finished it asap. i hope you like it, and again, so many apologies!

Sometimes, you wake up, and can immediately tell it’ll be a hard day. The sun has barely risen, yet there’s already a million noises coming through your window. Chatters of people having their morning walks, car horns from those too impatient to let them cross, the distant clang of a dropped pot, and-

“REBEKAHHH!”

-Klaus, yelling for his sister. At seven in the morning. 

“What the bloody hell are you shouting for?! I’m right here!”

You sigh, glad that mystery solved quickly.

There’s probably a few more minutes until your alarm rings, so instead of getting up a little earlier, you opt to enjoy your last minutes of peace. Though you soon realize that’s impossible, given your circumstances. On top of the city sounds, there’s a bird right outside your window, and when you try to turn away from it, the tag on your blanket itches the inside of your thigh. 

“Ugh!” You toss the blanket off. 

Your alarm sounds not a second later. 

With a slap to your phone and then another to your forehead, you decide to just get ready for the day. Luckily, not much is planned. Marcel still has control over the city, and with you being human, your Mikaelson hosts don’t want you outside at all. 

See, you live with the family of original vampires. You used to be a Mystic Falls’ resident, but then after developing a close connection with the siblings, decided to move to New Orleans with them and get a fresh start. You were tired of the small town life, and while the big city can be overwhelming at times, you’ll never get sick of the culture it has to offer. Besides, living with the most powerful family makes you happier than you ever believed you could be. 

As much as you love them, though, they can be a pain. Like when Klaus can’t find his sister, but forgets a whisper would summon her just as effectively. Instead, he has to wake up the whole quarter, and inconvenience you with a headache. When you reach the dining room that day, you slump your head on the table. 

“Everything alright, darling?” Kol’s voice floats over your head, making you aware of his presence. 

“Tired.”

“Is your bed comfortable enough? Do you need more blankets?”

You haven’t been in the city long, and his consideration warms your heart. 

“Oh, I’m okay. I’m very comfy. Just haven’t gotten used to the city yet.”

“Ah, I understand.”

His attention drifts to his sister. You busy yourself with a plate of food and ignore how tired you feel. When Elijah sits beside you, you offer a smile, but don’t say anything. The man, polite as ever, does the same. Though while two of the siblings are quiet, the other two aren’t. Klaus and Rebekah are still on the same topic from earlier. They bounce off each other quickly, childish banter turning into an argument.

You try to eat in peace and ignore them, but it’s difficult. And it doesn’t help that you’ve been feeling down lately, anyway. It’s rather unexplainable, the way you feel. Some days you’d rather stay in bed all day than face the world. Your whole body could be begging for you to get up and get things done, but you just can’t. No matter how hard you fight your own mind, sometimes there’s no winning the raging war. 

To make matters worse, you’re always hypersensitive when you find yourself in these low moods. Every little thing is overstimulating and there’s no pause button. This morning, you didn’t even get a chance to wake up before the sounds started. (Thanks, Klaus.) You roll your eyes in your head, annoyed. 

“Hey.” A poke to your shoulder startles you, making you jump. “You okay?” 

“Ooh, you caught me off guard.”

“Sorry,” Kol smiles, “you in deep thought, or rolling your eyes at Klaus’ statement?”

“Uh…” You bite your lip. You were rolling your eyes about Klaus, but missed whatever statement it was that he just made. “What did he say?”

“That he was on his way to have a little chat with Marcel. That will go swimmingly.”

“Oh.” You snort and decide to joke. “Both.”

Kol grins at you, but then, thankfully, leaves you alone again. 

After breakfast, you retreat back into your room, not in the mood to face the day. If Klaus is really going to start shit with Marcel, it’ll be an intense day. You’ve never met the current king of the French Quarter, but Elijah’s told stories. Marcel and the family used to be close, but then, like all their other relationships, ties ended drastically. 

“But not with you, of course,” he had promised. “You’re our girl.”

You were skeptical for a moment. Who wouldn’t be, knowing the Mikaelsons? But then Klaus approached you from behind with a kiss to your hair and confirmed his brother’s words,

“As long as we have your loyalty, you’ll always have ours.”

You could see the truth in his statement. Everyone who ended up on their bad side had betrayed them in some way. So, as long as you didn’t repeat others’ mistakes; as long as you kept your trust in the family, you would be considered family. And ever since the day you first grew close, you have been their family. 

You’re close with all of the siblings. Elijah, first, when you couldn’t take your eyes off him at Damon’s dinner party. Then Rebekah, and then Kol, when he undaggered. Even Finn, before his untimely death - thanks to Matt, your good friend now worst enemy. Klaus took the longest to trust you, and you can’t blame him for having trust issues, but once he realized how much his siblings adored you, he was quick to accept your place with them. 

Now, the five of you live together, nine hundred miles from your hometown. It’s certainly a change, but every day with them is an adventure.

Like today, you suddenly think, overhearing Elijah’s footsteps in the hallway. Today has definitely been one of those days. 

“Y/N?” He stops outside your door.

“Mhm?”

“Can I come in?”

“Sure.”

Elijah opens the door, but doesn’t fully enter your room. He looks you up and down before smiling. “I just thought you seemed sad earlier and wanted to check on you. Is everything okay?”

“Oh!” You put on a brave face to mask the tiredness you feel internally. “Yeah, I’m just out of sorts today. It’s nothing.”

“Are you sure? Because if someone’s bothering you, that’s something we can take care of.”

“No, no, I promise. It’s all just me. Just having a day.”

“You’re positive?” He asks for confirmation again.

“Have I ever lied to you, ‘Lijah?”

He looks down at his shoes, embarrassed. “No, you haven’t. I apologize for doubting you.”

“It’s okay,” you step closer to him, resting against the door frame. “No need to apologize. But I swear, I just… woke up on the wrong side of the bed or something. New Orleans is a loud city. I’m still adjusting.”

“Okay. Well, call if you need anything. Even the smallest thing.”

“I will.”

“Oh, and be careful in the off-chance that Marcel storms in here. There’s a fight brewing in the quarter.”

“I’ll keep an eye out.”

“Better yet, stay inside for the day. So you’re not in harm’s way at all.”

“Okay, ‘Lijah.”

He smiles at you, then kisses your hand. “Now, I need to neutralize my brother. But I needed to make sure our girl was okay first.”

“She’s okay. Go deal with him.”

Elijah straightens his collar before speeding off to no doubt defend his brother in a fight. You love Klaus, but man, does he get angry. And then from anger, comes pure rage, then absolute chaos. Once situations escalate that far, the whole block better hide if they want to keep their hearts in their chest. 

You sigh, thinking of the carnage that may come. You’re not sure you can deal with his anger issues today, especially not coupled with those of Marcel. Of all the days they have to fight, it’s the one that you might snap, too, if he raises his voice one more time. 

Suddenly, your bed looks like the perfect oasis away from the mess behind your door. A good pillow over the ears might prevent an impending meltdown. You crawl into it at once and let your body melt into the mattress. 

You hadn’t lied to Elijah, though you hadn’t given him the full truth, either. Yes, you are, in general, okay. Not necessarily today, but at that moment, you were. Also yes, you’re not feeling great today, partly because of all the city noise. And, finally, yes, most of it is just you and your body not in the mood to be awake. Though Klaus is contributing, just a little bit, to your mental distress today. Elijah would understand, of course, but then he’d have a talk with his brother about it, and you really didn’t want to burden either of them in that way, so you put on a smile and didn’t mention it. You’d bet Elijah knows the full truth, and knows why you won’t admit it, but he respects you if you don’t want to talk about it. That’s one of the reasons you love him so much. 

You get a couple hours of rest until your slumber is interrupted by a new knock on your door. It’s not soft, like Elijah’s, so it must be one of the younger two. 

“Oh no,” you mutter, wondering what it must be now.

“Y/N?” Rebekah’s voice comes from the other side. “Are you awake?”

“I am now.” 

She opens the door as you reply. “Oh what the bloody hell are you still doing in bed?”

“Sleeping.”

“Obviously! Come watch a movie with Kol and I! We’d love your company.”

“An actual movie, or the public display of violence happening outside in the quarter?”

“We haven’t decided yet!” She grabs your hand. “Come on!”

You yawn. “I’m gonna pass today, I’m not up for it.”

“Awh, Y/N! It won’t be as fun without you!”

“I have a headache, Bex,” you fib. 

“Do you want some blood for that?”

“Does that even work like that?”

She shrugs, “not sure.”

You cuddle into your pillow. “Another time, okay?”

The girl smiles, then leans forward to kiss your head. “Okay. If you change your mind, come find us.”

“I will. Thank you.”

“Dinner’s at seven. Will you be there?”

“Yeah,” you promise, “I should be better by then.”

You are not, in fact, better by then. If anything, your foul mood progressed into an actual headache within thirty minutes of Rebekah leaving. Shouts throughout the city managed to penetrate the thin glass of your windows, and you could hear almost everything as Klaus heckled the current king. For hours, it went on, until the sun went down and they assumedly put it off for another day. By seven o’clock, you were able to sneak in another nap, but you still felt way overstimulated from the day’s events. 

Not to mention the fact that you spent all day in bed. Sometimes, you’re overstimulated by too much going on, but today you partly did it to yourself by hiding away all day. The guilt of avoiding everyone weighs on your chest. Rebekah had invited you to a movie; Elijah went out of his way to check up on you, and you had more or less dismissed them both. A bitter taste sits in your mouth when you think about it. Water doesn’t wash it out.

Hopefully dinner will. 

For the first ten minutes, the night passes peacefully. Most of the conversation is focused between the meal and the movie the two had watched. The events of the day, seemingly, are left in the past.

But then, of course, Kol has to make a comment on something he overheard that he thought was funny. And that set Klaus off into a spewing of anger. He’s pissed at Marcel, but now, also, at Kol for bringing it up. Elijah puts his face in his hands, and Rebekah sends both a huge eye roll. 

What was a moment of much-appreciated silence is now a yelling match. After five minutes, you reach your breaking point. 

“Why do you feel the need to comment on that, Kol? It was so insignificant, but you’ve felt the need to bring it up, and now I’m reminded of how much Marcel has done to piss me off!”

“I didn’t mean to make you upset, bloody hell! I thought it was funny!”

“It wasn’t funny to me when he was spitting in my face! I-”

“Oh my god! Are you ever not arguing?!” You suddenly shout. 

The table goes silent and all eyes are on you. A needle could be dropped and it would be heard across the quarter. 

“I’m sorry,” you apologize quickly, embarrassed.

“Love,” Elijah puts a hand on your shoulder, “are you alright?”

At his touch, you flinch. He retracts his hand quickly, but doesn’t move his body away from its proximity to yours. 

Klaus, although upset at the interruption, notices this and calms a little. “Everything okay, Y/N?”

“I’m fine. It’s nothing.”

“That little outburst didn’t sound like nothing.”

“I’m just stressed.”

“Darling, what’s got you all upset? Tell us and we’ll sort it out now.”

“It’s no one, Kol, I’m just not feeling well.”

“Still have a headache, sweetheart?” Rebekah asks. 

“You have a headache?” Klaus butts in. 

The assortment of questions makes you drop your head. It nearly hits the table, but Elijah grabs your frame before you can fall. Tears form in your eyes, visibly. 

“I’m just really overstimulated today. I woke up weird and this city is loud, and then there was all the fighting all day long, and then I hid in my room all day, but then I felt bad about hiding, and now I’m making you all worried because I can’t get my shit under control!”

“And that’s your fault, how?” Elijah asks, “you cannot blame yourself for the way you feel.”

“But I need to handle my emotions better. I’m sorry.”

“No apologies necessary, love,” Klaus adds, “I certainly haven’t helped, fighting with children all day.”

“Niklaus,” Elijah warns, but Klaus doesn’t argue with him this time. 

“I should’ve stayed with you when you said you had a headache.”

“Don’t blame yourself either, Bex. It’s not your fault.”

“But we could’ve cuddled,” she frowns.

“It’s okay. I got a nap, and it helped a little. I just need to get used to my life being different now. None of you are at fault.”

“Nor are you,” the eldest reminds, “it’s been quite a day for us all.”

Kol clears his throat, “say, after dinner, if you feel up to it, we could all watch a movie and cuddle around you? I think some comfort is much needed.”

“Sure,” you agree, “but I might fall asleep during it.”

“That’s quite alright,” he smiles. He then stands up to hug you, but when his arms wrap around your neck, you freeze.

“Not yet, please. I’m still a bit stressed.”

He gives you a wink. “Of course, darling. Let me know when you’re ready.”

Klaus flicks his napkin across the table. He’s folded it into the shape of a heart. “We love you. You know that, right?”

You take the heart, kiss it, and put it in your pocket. “I do. I love you all, too. Thanks for understanding.”

[eluxcastar]

Heyy! May i request dottore x fem!reader who is a Porcelain doll(a puppet like scara but she's made out of Porcelain instead) and likes all those cute feminine stuff and collecting stuff like bows, Porcelain dolls and more. And I wonder if dottore would like the reader being pretty feminine and what's his opinion on Porcelain dolls (don't mind when i did any mistakes, English isn't my native language)

~🎀🧷

Dottore with a doll reader

── ୨୧：il dottore x reader

୨୧﹑synopsis :: silly rambles about Dottore and doll reader being cute

୨୧﹑genre :: fluff

୨୧﹑content :: fem reader (no gendered terms really used tho tbh), soft dottore (listen it's my guilty pleasure), reader has the properties of porcelain, not proofread

୨୧﹑words :: 950

THIS ACTUALLY reminds me of one of the very very first drafts I wrote even before Tartaglia's little brotherfication (coincidentally also of Dottore) so this is very fun. That doll was one of Sandrone's creations and I've decided so is this one

this also may hit close to home did I ever mention my slight obsession with dolls (it's worse than slight)

Dottore has fixed you many times, much to his inconvenience.

He has warned you many times against becoming reckless, but you never seem to listen, at least in his eyes. You are by no means fragile—porcelain is hard to chip away at—your habit is simply that of finding danger. Finding it, throwing yourself at it, and landing yourself here in the darkest corners of the Fatui's headquarters so the doctor can carefully string you back together.

A gentle touch is not his forte, the practised hands of a doctor toiling away in his effort to put you back together. You prefer him to Sandrone any day for how much less pain you associate with him. He can scold you all he likes, but it may never work. You'll keep coming back and asking for his help when your strings come loose, and he will oblige your request for reasons that escape even him. It is a simple process now performed practically from memory.

Your habit of collecting frankly worthless items is certainly something. The bows, frilly dresses, and varying spools of lace you always claim you'll do something with and never do all feel normal. The porcelain dolls, on the other hand, are...interesting.

You are a living porcelain doll, and yet you collect them like novelty items. Isn't that like your equivalent of collecting human babies? Whatever it is to you, people in glass houses shouldn't throw stones, so he keeps quiet as you fuss over their placement and hair, straighten their clothes or whether you're willing to sacrifice the careful styling of their hair to a pretty hat. It keeps you happy and away from everything dangerous that you seem to always run into.

The truth is, you are not in the slightest delicate despite making yourself seem that way. What you are is heavy, too heavy to always be lifting onto an operating table and too heavy to be lugging your pieces around—porcelain is not light.

However, there is interest to be had in the workings of your construction, which he is reminded of each time he takes you apart and watches you divide into inanimate pieces. You talk to him sometimes, pleasant background noise, or maybe just annoying when you start asking foolish questions he can't possibly answer. He can handle every "What are you doing?" and "Why are you doing that?" but when you begin to show your ignorance regarding your own creation and try to turn to him for answers instead of Sandrone, it frustrates him. 

You're supposed to answer his questions.

"She doesn't like my questions," you reason, and he never has to wonder why that is. Your incessant prodding and curiosity would irritate her, as does his indulging of your curiosity. She will complain that you're becoming restless and not as quickly satisfied, but really, nothing much at all has changed.

He can deal with your gravitation toward the things that make you happy if that's what keeps a smile on your face. One might even say he doesn't mind it, even when you pester him to help you tie your bows when they come loose in your hair or listen to your ramblings as you try to get him to help you with your dolls. He's better at tying knots than you. His hands have friction to keep the strings in place, unlike your slippery porcelain hands.

Your habits are endearing in their own way, the satisfaction with things that make you feel...human. You will never be, but the illusion of humanity and the yearning to chase it is not unlike the Segments. They think of themselves as human, believe they are, and exist as though they are human, yet they will never be as human as Prime. The only idea that makes sense is that you are displaying the same behaviour.

It is how Sandrone made you to be.

He can't say he especially blames you for following what your creation dictates. Your presence could bother him more than your interests could, namely a result of your many, many questions. It's not that you're sheltered or ignorant of the world around you—far from it—but most people don't know the nature of the things he works on, and you are no exception. You learned everything by asking, and he presents a wormhole of knowledge that you seek to understand by having him explain everything he's doing to you in great detail.

There's a bargaining that comes with it. Dottore will give you things so long as you stay out of the way, and you'll inspect them with a curious eye because he presents you with what Sandrone keeps you from. That is the only reason he can accept as to why you're talking to him, not that you like his voice and his smile, nor that you find the things he says fascinating or enjoy the light brush of his fingers against yours as he passes you your little 'distrations'. It's enough to watch him.

He complains his hands are always cold, and supposedly so are yours, but you've never felt temperature before. You like the faint glimpses of his scars, soft as his skin. They're not like yours, the closest equivalent being jagged cracks in your limbs that someone has to eventually fix before they worsen into breaks. 

Things are comfortable around him. He is used to the odds quirks of sentient, inhuman beings, and a benefit of being around them is that they don't mind how weird he is by most standards.

You are something he can easily get used to lingering around. Despite your similarities to the segments, he must admit that you are far less of a bother.

[kqutie]

THE PRINCESS' SEVEN MERCENARIES

CHAPTER ONE : A SWIFT ESCAPE

relations. : cevans various/reader -- steve rogers/reader ; curtis everett/reader ; ari levinson/reader ; lloyd hansen/reader ; andy barber/reader ; jake jensen/reader ; ransom drysdale/reader

chpt. sum. : your stepmother wants you dead but you're able to make a swift escape with the help of the huntsman who was meant to kill you. into the woods you go in search of a new and better life!

tags. : mentions of an assassination attempt ; evil stepmothers being evil ; evil queen being evil ; disney princess reader ; snow white and the seven dwarves au ; fairy tale au ; fluff ; domestic fluff in-coming! ; disney princess reader and her seven sexy mercenaries hehe~

length. : 4.6k

navi. | series masterlist

You were right to be suspicious from the very beginning. Ever since your father's honourable death in battle, you had been treated as lower than dirt by your stepmother. She was more than eager to be crowned the new queen of the kingdom and did her best to wipe your existence from the minds of all the people you were supposed to rule one day. Still quite young at the time, you didn't realise her manipulative ways. And you were none the wiser to her malicious intent.

The signs were obvious, every time you met her eyes, the distaste and displeasure were swimming in her narrowed sight, clear as the diamonds in her opulent crown. For quite a long time, you tried to hold out hope that she'd, one day, realise your sincerity, and your genuine want to become a good ruler. All in the hopes that your deceased father would smile at you, proud of your benevolent ruling as rightful queen. But that was your biggest fault. The virtuous desire she saw in your eyes only made her rage, aversion, and fear towards you grow by the day.

It was for her own comfort and self-assurance that you were subjected to live like a servant, dress like a servant, and be treated like a servant, within castle walls, never to be seen by your people again. 

Only the palace servants were allowed to interact with you, yet, they were also under strict supervision to act ignorant of their princess' obvious mistreatment. It wasn't any use, however; your kindness, strength, and sincerity, even at such a young age, had all the palace staff turning a blind eye. Whenever the queen commanded that you be mistreated, or dealt with worse than the stable keepers of the royal horses, they offered their help. Even the guards, who had to report back to the Queen, happily turned in falsified reports in the hopes that your upbringing became more auspicious.

For years, you were treated like a servant under the Queen's, your stepmother's, command to which you readily obliged. The mistreatment, the obvious jealousy she holds for you, the insensitivity you had to suffer, all of it was tolerable because of the wonderful staff surrounding you. You also knew that one day, your justice will be fulfilled. You had already passed your coming of age but you weren't deterred. It's malevolent but, as long as you were able to see the lingering hatred in your stepmother's eyes, no matter how few those instances were, you know that there will be hope for a better future. Through her fears, you will be able to rise and take back what was truly yours from the very beginning – your right to rule. 

But now... now you don't know what to think.

"Sir Remfrey," you call, following the huntsman further into the clearing on the outskirts of your kingdom. It was a beautiful meadow dotted with the prettiest wildflowers you had ever seen but the trepidation in your thundering heart wouldn't allow you to relax. The huntsman you had grown up to view as a beloved, close relative, doesn't respond. He doesn't even spare you a glance — but he can't allow you to witness the obvious conflict in his eyes. He was determined to let you go but when he stares into the dense forest before him, he worries for the life of his princess, the true ruler of the kingdom he so loved.

"Princess..." the huntsman finally stops just at the boundary of the forest. In a moment reigned by taught nerves, Remfrey tightens his hold on the basket full of food, spare clothing, and other useful supplies for your safe escape. "I am meant to kill you today by order of the Queen,"

Even though you shouldn’t have been surprised, a startled gasp still escaped your parted lips. For a long time, you've been conscious of your stepmother's paramount dislike of you, but never took her for someone who would command that you be killed. 

Words fail you and your hands begin to shake as you hug yourself for comfort. It's a morbid thought but at least you were finally given some new clothes before your death — the only silver lining you could think of in such a dire situation. The fabric of your new A-line dress is soft but durable, its length protecting you from the occasional breeze, down until your mid-calf. This morning when you were presented with it along with a thick and cosy, cable knit cardigan, you were elated. It's been years since you were presented with new casual clothes and, upon their presentation, a spark of hope lit up your eyes... that is, until Sir Remfrey came to escort you to an unknown location for a surprise outing by order of the Queen. You weren't stupid but were, nonetheless, stupid enough to follow her ambiguous orders.

"Sir Remfrey please–"

"But I will not do that," the seasoned hunter, the bulky, tall, alpha-presenting man, faces you with tearful eyes, his knees dropping to the grassy ground as he urges you to hold onto the wicker basket he had brought along, "I'm letting you go here, my princess, and I will handle the rest. You must run and never look back; today you really did die so please..." he begs with a quivering voice, touching his forehead to the back of your hand, "please start a new and better life, one that is full of happiness, one that you deserve,"

With tears in your eyes, you embrace the huntsman tenderly, your arms unable to fully circle his broad shoulders, "what will you do? I know she is evil and if she finds you have disobeyed, Sir Remfrey, your family—"

"Will be alright," he reassures in the same whisper you had used to express your concern. Even when knowing your mournful fate, you still thought of him and his family – you are truly a better ruler, a better person, than the Queen could ever be, "I plan on returning with a wild hog's heart as evidence instead," he pulls away to smile at you, patting your head affectionately as he had always done, viewing you as the third daughter he never had, "and I plan on leaving the kingdom with my family soon after, you need not worry about me or anyone else, just yourself,"

He warns you of the dangers the forest presents but it is still a safer haven than the palace. No matter how well-decorated the grand structure may be, at least in the forest, you remain alive. He also lists off the necessities kept hidden in the basket: spare clothes, enough food for a week and some spare gold coins that the staff managed to scrap together as well as 'borrow' from the treasury (with the help of the palace accountant). Everyone at the castle, except the Queen, knew of the plan today and had worked together to keep you safe and give you another, better chance at life. It touched your heart so much that, despite the dismal circumstance, your eyes filled with tears of joy.

So as you traverse over the forest floor, Sir Remfrey's words echo in your head: keep running and don't look back! Create and live a better life!

It broke your heart to be leaving your kingdom and your people like this but... what can you do? A part of you feels guilty for not acting sooner and for allowing things to get this far but another part tempers your self-accusation gently. You were only a child. You had every right to feel guilt over this but the only thing you can and should do is look forward. You haven't yet fully escaped the Queen and you wouldn't dare endanger Sir Remfrey's life after all that he has done for you despite also putting his family in danger.

Keep running!

Don't look back!

Keep running!

Don't look back!

Keep running!

Don't look back!

The sun crawls slowly above you as your feet become heavier and heavier, it's come to the point where you're beginning to drag your shoes along the dirty forest floor and have come dangerously close to tumbling over several times. Thankfully, the trees were there to save your fall, their trunks and branches provided a sturdy foundation to rely on amid your toppling form.

Your throat feels like sandpaper but you resist reaching into the basket for the bottle of milk stored deep inside; you don't know how long it'll take to find a village that you could reside in without a beaten path to lead you the way, so your endurance was being put to the test. It all seems hopeless but you don't want the efforts of the kind palace staff to go to waste, they've sacrificed so much for you, you wouldn't dare put their efforts in vain. Magic items were a privilege of high society, rich nobles, and powerful organisations, only very few knew what was in the Queen's full magical arsenal so you needed to get away as far as possible and quickly!

Just a little longer you think to yourself, pushing forward with a new determination. 

Multiple trees pass you by, their trunks and low branches offering support for the hazard that was their knobbly roots. Time no longer was a factor of thought, instead, it was the throbbing in your downtrodden ankles and the ache in the arches of your feet, how long have you been travelling like this? At this point, walking without shoes was an incredibly enticing idea. The dragging of your feet weighs down your sore, hopeless heart and you're soon having to suppress a sob.

But just as all hope escapes you, the distant sound of a running river raises your spirits. Pulled forward by the steady stream, you eventually break through the forest boundary to rest at the river bank. The water was crystal clear and glittering with the early afternoon sun. You wasted no time in leaning down for a drink and, once you had satiated your thirst, you carefully dipped in your naked feet and sighed in the relief that the cool water brings. The tenderness of your arches and ankles was quickly swept away with the water. It was a blissful reprieve that you took full advantage of.

Reaching into the basket, you pull out a small collection of fruit and nuts to snack on before withdrawing a more filling sandwich. The staff had been incredibly generous. They had given you a full pouch of gold coins, food, clothes, and a charmed wicker basket to hold it all in — the internal storage of the modest accessory was endless but it remained the same weight no matter how much you filled it up. It was a rather expensive item that could only be afforded by nobles and royalty who would sooner gift the basket to their staff for use in picnic outings and the like. It was quite handy to have while you worked about the castle along with the rest of the palace staff.

As much as you would have liked to remain sitting at the river bank with your feet dipped in its cool, racing waters, you still had to keep moving forward. For now, you opted for following the river in the hopes that you'd eventually be led to a nearby town as most tended to revolve around freshwater sources. Happily, you dabbed on some of Alma's homemade peppermint and lavender essential oil, stowed in a small glass bottle within the basket. You think fondly of the time you spent making homemade remedies, teas, powders, and all sorts with the elderly palace herbalist, wife of the gardener. They were a lovely couple who taught you everything you know along with many other individuals about the palace staff. One of the most useful things Alma taught you is that peppermint and lavender were deeply despised by bugs and pests, so to save yourself of any troubling bites, you dabbed on the oil generously. Another benefit was the beautiful fragrance helped mask the stench of sweat on your brow.

Refreshed and less panicked, you continue on your new path by the river. You expected another long journey ahead but soon came across a beautiful cottage that stood in a clearing on the other side of the running water. Thankfully a humble wooden bridge was there to help you cross the river. Circling the cottage, you recognise several raised beds full of carefully grown produce, it was the start of an expansive and impressive garden that stretches all around the cottage's perimeter. The cosy structure looked well-kept and huge with many windows and levels, you wonder how many rooms such an isolated cottage could have and for what reason. Nevertheless, this was the first sign of life on your journey and you were eager for shelter and, perhaps, some directions too.

Patting down your dress and sweater for any lingering dust or dirt, you took a breath and steadily made your way to the front door. It was certainly a property that needed admiring so you wondered why it was so remotely placed. You didn't let such thoughts linger for too long, however – perhaps the home owner/s liked their privacy. Stepping up to the heavy front door of the property, you quickly knock before you get the chance to lose all confidence.

No answer.

You gave a secondary knock and even a third knock but there was still no answer. Is nobody home? You ponder thoughtfully.

"Hello?" You call out, somewhat, hesitantly but still receive nothing. It wasn't in your nature to intrude but you really needed a place to stay, just for the night. You'll promise to leave in the early morning, provided that they offer you some helpful directions. Instead of knocking again, you try the doorknob and find no resistance. The wooden door happily invites you into the cottage’s front room. 

The space inside was dark and bedraggled. Unused surfaces were covered in dust and a pile of dirty laundry took up a corner space. You couldn't believe that such a sparse interior could be made so messy. Organised chaos was your best attempt at describing the spaces you walked through. Silas (the palace cook) would have lost his mind at the sight of the kitchen and Frances (the head maid) would have fainted from the unclean environment. The air reeked of countering alpha scents too; you managed to pick up seven distinct aromas and swallowed nervously. As an omega, you were heavily encouraged to avoid all alpha-dominated spaces but didn't have much of a choice at this moment. At least the cottage seemed to be empty for now. Not only that but in this modern world, everybody is equipped with their individual, second-gender suppressor accessory – it’s standard for the safety of all people. If the homeowner was civilised, you're sure they would never go out without theirs; you never even took yours off, and most people didn’t.

"No one seems to be home..." you whisper to yourself, gnawing at your bottom lip in thought, "and I've been very rude for intruding like this..." Observing the space around you once more, you wonder how you could somehow mitigate the owner's negative reaction to your trespassing, "maybe if I clean up a bit, they'll forgive me for barging in like this," with your optimistic thought, you got set to work, "I can do their laundry too and…" you eye their kitchen space, "maybe if I make them something special to eat, they won't be so angry," giggling to yourself somewhat, you remember Silas' knowledgeable words 'nobody could eat a delicious meal and stay angry or sad'. He often used that to get back into his wife’s good graces and it seemed to work flawlessly, every single time — hopefully, you can do the same in this instance. 

First things first: a general clean up of the area was urgently needed. However, you also had to open every window nearby; the amount of dust and dirt your movements lifted into the air was suffocating. You remain on the ground floor where most of the community rooms are located such as the living area, kitchen/dining room, and a large farmhouse-style conservatory, which stretches into the back garden.

The living area and dining area didn't take too much time, it only needed a little reorganising and dusting. The kitchen took a little more out of you so you took a quick break, where you leisurely got the laundry settled. Thankfully, the conservatory was equipped with an enchanted washing apparatus that you were used to operating from the palace. It was peculiar to find in such a humble setting but you didn't know the full background of the homeowner so you didn't question too much.

Little by little, the once unclean space became decent again. But it was missing something… something homey. Before getting started with dinner preparations, you fetched a newly cleaned glass vase from one of the many cupboards you were able to neatly organise and went out to collect some beautifully blossomed flowers to present at the dining table. You managed to arrange a pretty bouquet featuring bright purple and indigo blossoms, eucalyptus sprigs, bunches of dainty white florets and other miscellaneous greenery. Happy with the floral decoration, you turn your full attention to food preparations. 

Some minutes into food prep, the laundry washer was finished and you went to hang the freshly washed clothes up to dry on the washing line. It was helpful that you were able to keep your eye on the laundry through the window above the sink, looking into the conservatory space, which overlooked the back gardens. The interior design was very open and spacious, where, even if you were in one room, you were still able to peek into several others without much effort — you quite liked it; everything was connected but still had its own place. 

Getting stuck doing the chores was familiar. The tasks were comforting as they brought to mind the many friendly faces of the palace staff. They helped raise you, provided tutelage on their specialised skills and ensured that you didn't miss out on the vital education all princesses were entitled to, all behind the tyrannical Queen’s back. Silas the chef de cuisine, Frances the head maid, Henry the head butler, Ernest and Abigail the royal librarians, Alma the herbalist and her husband Otis the gardener, Amos the accountant, Cecelia the palace doctor and her assistant Victor, the brother of Violet who was the royal bookkeeper, Hansen, the royal guard and his friends, Abraham the palace mage and so many more amazing people. You miss them all so much, your found family amongst all the hardship you were forced to face by order of the Queen. In your heart, you know that without their help and kindness, you wouldn't have had the courage to be kind anymore. These chores connect you back to them, in a way, and you are happy to swim in the remembrance and familiarity while putting the skills they've taught you to good use.

Despite the original grim state of the cottage, their enchanted cool storage was supplied generously and ran as smoothly as the walk-in cooler of the palace. There was some space for the milk, cheese, and other perishable food items stowed in your charmed wicker basket so you happily stowed those away first before setting out ingredients for the hearty dinner you had planned.

Slow-cooked, tender beef stew with fresh bread rolls and, for dessert, some easy banana bread with chocolate chips and whipped cream. Considering the clothes sizes you had laundered earlier, you assume that whoever lived here needed to be fed an above-average amount — a challenge you were happy to step up to.

Excited to put your cooking skills to the test, you get started with assembling the bread dough so that it has time to proof under the remaining daylight. After that, you quickly went about prepping the many vegetables needed for the stew before finally getting started on searing the meaty beef chuck you found, carefully wrapped in butcher's paper. Some of the seasonings you couldn't quite reach as the cupboards were rather high up so you had to climb onto the kitchen counters at some points. Nevertheless, the domestic, calm scene had you humming a simple tune, imagining Silas observing your progress from over your shoulder and smiling to himself with fulfilment – he always took such pride in teaching you well on navigating the kitchen, from sharpening knives and keeping a tidy space, to maintaining inventory and memorising a range of different recipes to fit any and every occasion.

While the beef stew was simmering over a steady, slow fire, you got to finishing up your bread rolls and finally tossed them into the oven, where you eventually got started on the banana bread and whipping cream. It was a shame that the kitchen space was barely utilised despite the impressive charmed appliances available for use. The homeowner's kitchen space was also incredibly big and it came with two beautiful ovens, meaning that you could cook the bread rolls and chocolatey banana bread at the same time — it was a home cook's dream cooking space. The only conclusion was that the homeowner wasn't suited for cooking but you were happy to fill in that scarcity, especially if it made them less mad at you for intruding…

Wiping the thought from your head, you allowed the delicious aroma to fill the kitchen while you went to collect the newly dried laundry and placed the piles in the conservatory space, ready to be folded neatly. It was a little unfortunate that you couldn't extend your labour to the upstairs spaces but you've infringed on the homeowner's space enough; you don't think a simple cleaning or a hearty meal could convince anyone to remain calm if they found that their private bedroom space was also carelessly invaded.

Everything was going well and you're positive you would make a good first impression. If you were determined enough, you're sure the homeowner would be willing to overlook your trespassing on their property. Hopefully, they'll also be convinced to let you stay the night and offer you some directions to leave for the following morning; you've already intruded enough, you couldn't possibly ask for extended shelter too... although it would be very much appreciated on your part.

Yawning softly, you take out the bread rolls and place them on a wire rack to cool, waiting a little longer to do the same for the chocolatey banana bread. On occasion, you would check on the bubbling beef stew over the small fire, but the longer you cook it, the better the flavour and the more tender the meat becomes, so you weren't too worried. The only time you added to the pot was when you felt as though the broth had gotten too low and needed replenishing. 

"It should be ready in another hour or so," you murmur to yourself as you cover the pot once more and clean up the kitchen space as you go. You push yourself to finish ironing and folding the laundry in the conservatory before finally admitting to your tiredness. Allowing the fatigue to consume your figure, you settle yourself in the living room and curl up on the large sofa. With the throw blanket covering you, one of the sofa cushions supporting your head and the other hugged to your chest, sleep found you easily. In your dreams, you imagine being warmly accepted by the mysterious homeowner, who eventually helps you on your way to a quaint little village that you happily settle into and start a new life in.

"Captain!" Jake fumbles his way towards Steve. The morning had been a rush and flurry of activity as the group found a potential lead but was met with yet another dead end and returned back to square one. Now, as they make their way back to their temporary home, a complimentary asset that came with their year-long mission, Jake was finally able to check on their security system but panicked as soon as he saw the breach alert.

"What is it, Jake?" Steve sighs and carefully massages his temples. Four months into their mission and they have yet to make much progress at all. Things were optimistic in the beginning but time was running out quicker than he expected. As the captain, he often has to remind himself to be patient but it's hard to get a bird's eye view of things when you're in the thick of it.

"There was a breach at the cottage!"

"What?!" Lloyd snaps with Ransom close behind him. It's been years since they've had a stable home space and now it's been broken into?! This was the one clause in the contract they were adamant about for the ounce of stability it provided on their normally volatile profession; they refuse to have such an invaluable property taken away before its agreed-upon time!

"I thought you said that barrier made the cottage invisible to everyone but us!" Ransom barks with barely restrained outrage, adding to Steve's headache but the philanderer doesn't pay his captain's chilling glare any attention.

"Yes—!" Jake huffs from confusion and astonishment at the bewildering facts before him, "But because the cottage is also very isolated, it's not as high-level a barrier as it could be so high-affinity magic users can see right through it and possibly even break through,"

His explanation further angers the two main antagonists of the alarming news but, ever the mediator, Ari steps up with a calming air, "We're almost home so we can take care of things soon enough," Steve gives the mechanic of the group a grateful smile. Yes, the circumstance, after such an exhausting day, wasn't ideal but he will always appreciate additional help when taming the two wild cats of their mercenary group.

Seeing their home just ahead, Ransom and Lloyd begin to rush forward but are immediately stopped by Curtis' unyielding limbs. With a grunt, the silent surveyor and guard forces them back in warning.

"We don't know who's inside but from what Jake said it's a high-affinity magic user," Steve scolds deeply in a hushed whisper, "we can't just rush in blindly,"

The group look at their homey cottage and observe all signs of activity within. Some windows were left open with the curtains drawn, a soft golden light emits from inside and the small chimney positioned by the kitchen is billowing with smoke. It's obvious that someone else had made themselves at home in the mercenary group's absence.

"That's strange," Andy admits, seeming to have read Steve's mind as the two turn to lock eyes.

"Doesn't seem like the intruder is looking to ambush us," Steve completes their shared thought, "but that still doesn't mean they can't harm us so stay on your guard," Steve directs the group to opposite entry points about the cottage. This improves their chances of surprising their intruder as well as covering more ground. They reconnect their earpieces before setting forth on their stealth positions about the cottage; naturally, Steve separates Lloyd and Ransom to avoid their troubling behaviour together.

"Ari, Ransom, and Jake go in from the back. Curtis, Andy, Lloyd, and I will head in from the front," Steve eyes Curtis and Lloyd, "you two split off to search the upstairs while Andy and I head through to the kitchen. If we can, we’ll regroup there," with an affirming nod from all parties, they split up and take their positions accordingly. 

navi. | series masterlist | two. a fateful meeting →

a/n : this is just the beginning but i hope you darlings enjoy the series so far! please comment, like, reblog and tell me what you think, i'd really appreciate it! — bit of a bad time posting this on kinktober but we move haha!

p.s this is my first time writing for these sexy men so please go easy on me and my characterisation of them (ó﹏ò。)

[exaltedfuzz]

Goddammit, your last lanamia comic made me cry.. What master storytelling spirits are you channeling that make you know these characters better than the original writers?

Deepest apologies... I have worse planned. Poor Mia. (and Lana... but you'll see why I say poor Mia soon enough, I hope...)

As for writing characters, it really helps to talk to yourself in their "voices" to try and figure them out. Mumble to yourself when you're cooking, when you're walking and nobody's around, but also listen to people speak. When you put what you know into dialogue it sounds way less phony than if you're purely trying to advance plot with ham-fisted exposition... Though you need a bit of that too, if you're trying to drive something. It's good to write stuff down in a script, get a recording app out, say it all (put on a different voice for each character, why not?) and when you stumble over the sentences because they suck to say out loud, rewrite them so they don't. Your most powerful tool in writing speech is speaking. 

Think about the context too, it's dead important. Surrounding events and characters are what keep things grounded... Nothing exists in a vacuum. It's really useful that AA has such a packed world, with so many characters in proximity. Makes it easier to de-vacuum things. I guess the same is true for most fan works. 

Having a start and end point really helps. But, more so in a sense of "where is this character at the start of this scene, and what do they want to achieve". When you're writing "aspirationally" like this, you can get into the groove better than if you have a point A and a point B that you are looking to get to overall. And then considering the dynamics between the characters and taking that into account when understanding how those goals may be compromised, ignored, pushed for... Who has the most power in a scene generally decides what goal is pushed towards. 

Another thing is focalised narrative. Usually when I'm doing these comics (at the moment), I follow Lana, and most of the emotional core is in her reactions to things. You don't want to zero in too much to one character, or you'll end up flattening the rest, but having a core character is a good way to keep things simple. It's tempting to just chuck as many characters as you can into something, but you have to remember that you're then going to have to have them all exist... 

Also, honestly, going back to the source text plenty, and with an eye for specifics, is really useful. Take note of how characters refer to each other, which is a huge thing in AA specifically... And also what humanity is in them. For Lana, for instance, she's quite witty, and quick to make light of herself with that wittiness. ("Oh, this? I cut myself by accident. When I stabbed him, that is. I'm not very good at being a criminal, I suppose.") I try to put this slightly irritating joking into how I write her. With Ace Attorney characters, you're looking at them at very intense points in their "lives", so they're probably acting differently to normal, but picking up on these little things can make all the difference. Obviously, as well, there’s the “that… was probably why she was attracted to me” line. I take this as a reluctance to publicly acknowledge the mutuality of said attraction… (“Intellectually” seems like a Lana-ism to deflect that Ema picked up, to me. Lana doesn’t seem to be very comfortable with who she is in general. She wears her King of Prosecutors medals when Edgeworth seems to think the award is tacky, and even Manfred, obsessed with achievement and perfection, and apparently winner of multiple King awards, doesn’t display his medals. Obviously this is because when they were designed, it was before the idea of King of Prosecutors existed, but I think that Lana pinning her achievements to her chest where they can clearly be seen in order to convince to both those around her and, more pressingly, to herself, that she is competent is interesting.) Her own goals also always come second to Ema. I think she’s probably felt quite suffocated by having to spend her whole adulthood so far being a mother to her.I have a lot of thoughts on her as a character, both in the context of lanamia and outwith. She’s very compelling to me, and although most of the time when I'm drawing her, it's the "used to be so gentle, always smiling" Lana that we never actually see in game, I want to push some of these key aspects of her in game identity into her, so I interpret that "gentleness" as a slight nervousness, and that "always smiling" as something mostly for Ema's sake, so she doesn't have to see her rock crumble, so to speak. Anyway, that's enough on her...

I don't know if you really wanted my dialogue writing tips, but anyway. There they are. I wrote way more than I meant to, so sorry about that, haha! Hope some of this could be useful.

I don't know that I know the characters better than their creators... I only hope I'm doing them and the stories I think they could have lived in justice. Thank you very much for the ask, haha!

[sl33paholics]

Let's Start The Day Together.

Retsu Kaioh x black!fem reader

Warning(s): mentions of mental health / illnesses (social anxiety n depression), body image issues, social anxiety

I've been having a shitty, exhausting week. I had a huge exam on Tuesday and am now off for the rest of the week until my other exam. Had a health scare, so that wasn't good lol so I wanted to make this writing piece for comfort. This is more of a self-insert, but lowkey made it an "x reader" in case people can relate

It's hot.

You can feel small sweat glands running down your face as you scratch your durag to relieve the itching you had from last night, letting out a huft as you lay on your messy bed trying to get comfortable. You don’t know if it was the fact that you just woke up or if you were going crazy but somehow, this felt like a dream.

You felt sticky.

You were in heat.

You shifted your attention from the ceiling to the small clock on your desk. It was after 1:30 pm.

Your body temperature felt way hotter than normal, especially since you had slept with a sports bra on with your long, baggy ass shorts. Your durag smelled like sweat, and your skin smelled disgusting. You didn’t want to go to work today. But at least the heat was tolerable. You tried to rub away some of the sweat with a shirt that's been sitting on your bed for days, but that only made it worse.

You groaned, sitting up and rubbing your temples. Your head was pounding, making you nauseous.

Taking a good look around your decent-sized spaced room, it was a mess. Sorta. It was a chore to clean up when you have containers filled with unused clothes that you don't bother to wear, boxes of items that you hadn't opened once you moved out those years ago, or even your books that you had yet to read. Your closet looked like there was never an organization to it whatsoever; your bookshelves were mostly empty except for your favorite books. You had no pictures of family that hung anywhere. Everything seemed to be in the same state you left it in.

Why bother to clean? You'd always ask yourself, no one visits. So why would you bother taking care of anything? Maybe you could take a shower. Maybe. Hopefully. You weren't sure what else to do to cool off, besides sleep. You slowly stood up, stretching your arms above your head while yawning. When you finally decided that it was enough to rest for now, you made your way into your bathroom.

At least you took care of your living room. It looks decent if you're ignoring the fact that it took almost a month to finally get off your lazy ass to do something about it. It smells nice and feels nice as if a huge weight got lifted off whenever you step out of your horrid room.

After you did your business, you couldn't help but look at yourself in the mirror. Baggy eyes, stretch marks from your arms to the lower half of your stomach, and your unkempt hair. As if you looked homeless. As if you were lost in a trance, you didn't hear your front door being unlocked and opened by someone who had a spare key. You didn't even realize someone was in your apartment until they walked in.

"Y/N?" a voice called out to you as you shifted your attention to the person behind you, Retsu standing at the doorway with bags in his hand. Restu must've come over here because he wanted to check if everything was okay. "Did you just wake up? Sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt." He'd say, looking away to the side. You couldn't help but wonder if he wasn't used to seeing you in your condition. "I just wanted to make sure you're alright," he finished. His brows furrowed as he stared you dead in the eye. Was Retsu mad at you? That doesn't seem possible, but maybe he was just concerned for you? You shook it off, deciding not to dwell on it too much.

"Yeah," you replied awkwardly, putting your hands in your pockets. "I'm just feeling kind of under the weather right now... but I'll be alright." You trailed off, giving him a smile. As the two of you were settling down, you noticed that Retsu brought groceries and other things you'd need. You knew he was trying to make you feel better, so you appreciated it. You didn't even realize how hungry you were until Retsu mentioned food. How embarrassing, how did I forget about food? You thought, biting your lip sheepishly. It was quiet between you two. The only noise in the apartment was Retsu putting stuff away and making the two of you lunch. Once he was finished, he placed plates in front of you on the coffee table while he sat down across from you. You thanked him.

Silence. What was there to even talk about? You felt bad. Retsu did all this and took time out of his day to come to see you, only for you to not spark up a conversation. You let out a loud sigh. "Y/N." You looked over at him, noticing a soft expression on his face. It seemed to be a mixture of concern and pity. "Something's bothering you."

"Retsu, please..." You began. He held his hand up, stopping you immediately.

"Just tell me what's wrong."

"But-"

"No, Y/N," he interrupted sternly, "I've been texting you for days now. I haven't gotten one reply once. You're not looking too well, what happened? Your co-workers are saying you're not showing up to work either." Retsu would ask again. He was starting to sound annoyed. He leaned back on his chair, crossing his arm.

You sighed, knowing he wouldn't take no for an answer. "Okay. Fine." You looked back at your food, not sure what to say. The silence stretched for what felt like forever before you started speaking up again. "I'm just having one of those moments...y'know? I don't know. I don't think I left this building in a week?" You let out a nervous giggle, but you could tell Retsu wasn't happy with your response. "I don't have anybody who I consider friends that I can hang out with. I have work-friends. Not best friends. They do not acknowledge me outside of that, so I've just been in here in my room." You'd say turning your attention away from Retsu, your eyebrows frowning at what you just said.

Retsu didn't respond. You felt a pang of guilt run through you. He probably thinks you're a loser for talking to him like this. You rambled on how much it was difficult to wake up on time, and if you did, you didn't want to go anywhere for the day. You neglected your hygiene and physical appearance. Going on and on, you felt overwhelmed every time you looked in the mirror. You finally stopped your rant once you felt your throat clogging up and tears running down your face.

You sniffled, wiping at your eyes, hoping to catch them before you cry.

Retsu didn't move or speak for a few seconds, and then you heard him stand up from his seat. Before you could protest, you felt strong arms wrap themselves around you, hugging you tightly. You hugged him back as you felt your breath catch in your throat. "If it makes you feel better... I woke up around one o'clock. Last time, I woke up around six in the evening." You said with a chuckle to lighten up the mood. You let him go, but not before resting your hands on his chest to keep him at arm's length. You could feel your heart racing.

Retsu chuckled. "It does," he admitted. A genuine was spread across your face, the first one you'd smiled in weeks. You wiped at your eyes again before giving Retsu another hug. It was warm. You missed the warmth of him around you. He gave you another pat on your back before pulling away from the hug. He got on one knee before clasping your hand tightly. "I'm glad you told me what's been going on, Y/N." Retsu would say as you noticed his thumb was caressing on top of your hand. "And whatever's bothering you now, I'll do my best to help you." The sincerity in his voice was hard to ignore. You were touched by his words. "I'll stay the night here with you." Retsu would say, standing up again.

"You don't have to, I can take care of myself..." You tried to tell him. Retsu shook his head.

"I know, but that doesn't mean I can't watch over you, y'know." He gave you a reassuring smile as he offered his hand again to help you up. You took it hesitantly, allowing him to pull you up. "Let's leave in a few minutes. Getting fresh air is always good for the body." Retsu suggested.

You agreed easily, still feeling a little bit guilty for not opening up to him sooner. If only you had. But you were happy enough to have a guy like Retsu around to assist you during your roughest times.

[topazy]

Teen spirit

Pairing: Carl Grimes × reader, Maggie Greene × sister reader

Warnings: Swearing, blood and violence

Chapter: 6.01

You try your best to pay no mind to those staring while you explore the different streets of Alexandria. Carl doesn’t seem to notice as he pushes Judith in her pram, or if he does, he doesn't let on. The first few weeks in your new home have been hard on everyone. Noah was dead. While on a supply run, he was torn to shreds by walkers. A few others had died, including Jessie’s husband Pete, whom Rick shot for killing Deanna’s husband, which resulted in your group getting the cold shoulder from a lot of people who had lived in Alexandria since the beginning, and they no longer thought your people belonged in their home.

“I’m glad Maggie isn’t making you go anymore.”

Since Carl was no longer going to ‘school' Maggie said you didn’t need to either, on the condition you help out with different chores, one of them being looking after Judith. “Me too,” you say, leaning down and tickling the baby’s cheek. “It means I get to hang out with my favorite girl.”

“Carl, y/n.”

You turn to see Father Gabriel walking over. Maggie had overheard him telling Deanna that your people were dangerous and shouldn’t be allowed in the community a few nights prior, so it was surprising he would speak to any of you.

Carl’s tone is sharp. “What?”

“You heard what I told Deanna about your group.”

“What is it you want?” You ask.

“It was about me, not you or your group. I know that now.” Gabriel admits, “I want to help. You tried to reach me back at my church, but I’m ready to learn now.”

“I think you need to tell everybody.”

The older man’s eyes gloss over slightly. “Yeah, I think you’re right.”

Carl starts to push the pram again, but strops and sighs. “Come by around three. We’ll start with the machete.”

When Gabriel is out of earshot, you say, “That was nice of you.”

He shrugs, “Suppose we gotta keep being nice to each other since we are all going to be living together. Besides, I think he’s still struggling with what happened at his church.”

You smile softly. Carl has always remained kind to others, even when he’s angry. “Yeah, I think you're right.”

—

“Y/n, Y/n!”

Hearing your name being called, followed by a thumping noise coming from the bathroom door, you turn off the water and go to step out, but slip on the shower, stubbing your toes on it and letting out a string of curse words.

The banging continues. “Y/n! Y/n! You need to get out of there now!”

Hearing the urgency in Carl’s voice, you grab a towel, and you step behind the door and open it a crack to hear him say, “What’s going on?”

“We are being attacked; you gotta help me keep Judith and Enid safe.”

The fear in his voice causes your heart to start beating faster and faster. Scrambling, you start pulling clothes on, doing your best to ignore the blood coming from your toe. When you open the door, you see Carl looking towards the staircase, directly at the front door, one hand tightly wrapped around his gun. Hearing you flinch while putting shoes on, his gaze jumps between you and the door. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing,” you lie, trying your best not to whine in pain as you tie the laces on the dirty, worn-out white converse. “Who’s attacking us?”

“I’m not sure. They climbed the wall and just started killing people. Enid saw a man kill Shelly with a machete. They are worse than the dead.”

A large part of your new community, including Rick, Michonne, Daryl, and Abraham, had left Alexandria to lead a herd of walkers away, meaning you were lacking fighters to defend your home. At least you still had Carol, Rosita, Maggie...

“God, Maggie!” You hold onto the banister and pull yourself up. “I need to find her.”

“You can’t go out there; it’s not safe.”

“But she’s my sister.” Tears well up in your eyes. “I can’t lose her too! I’ve just lost Beth; I can’t, I can’t.”

Attempting to comfort you, Carl holds you and places his hands on your shoulders. “Maggie is one of the strongest people I know; she will make it. I promise.”

You knew Carl couldn’t promise you that, but you needed to pull it together because right now nothing was more important than keeping Judith safe. You wipe away a fallen tear. “Okay, let’s do this.”

—

When you went downstairs, Enid informed you that the group invading Alexandria was called the Wolves. It wasn’t clear what they actually wanted; some members of the Wolves were looting houses, and the others were tossing petrol bombs and destroying everything they could.

Sitting back to back in the hallway, watching the front and back doors while Enid kept an eye from upstairs, Judith slept blissfully unaware of all the chaos going on in her crib.

Hearing a loud noise, you flinch. “What was that?”

“It sounds like a car horn.”

You chew on your bottom lips, and the blast of the horn would draw any nearby dead to the scene. “This is just going to keep getting worse, isn’t it?”

“No, my dad will be back soon, along with everybody else, and we will all be fine.”

You let out a deep sigh. You didn’t want to be so negative, but the fear of something bad happening to those you loved weighed heavily on you. Slowly, you look away from the back door and face Carl’s head. A few seconds pass before you lean in and kiss him on the cheek, “Thank you.”

He blushes, and you return to watching the back door. You’re unsure of how long you will wait for something to happen when Carl jumps to his feet and runs out of the front door.

You catch a glimpse of a wolf chasing Ron. Just as you reach the front door, Carl shoots the man in the leg and aims his gun at him, but the wolf tearfully starts begging for his life and for help with his leg. You watch in horror as Carl hesitantly lowers his weapon, and the wolf viciously grabs the barrel of his gun. You sprint to them and pull the trigger, shooting the man in the head.

You just killed someone.

You offer Carl your hand and help pull him to his feet. “Oh shit, your foot.”

You look down and see blood soaking through your shoe. Gulping down, you say. “It’s fine. Ron, you need to come inside with us now.”

“Come on, man, it’s not safe out here.”

Ron thinks it over as you go back towards the house, with a slight limp in your step, and Ron goes to follow but spots Enid in the doorway and storms off.

—

Carol came by to check on you, Carl, and Judith. She informed you that they had taken one of the men prisoner, but the rest of his group had either run off or been killed. You were even more thankful when she told you your sister was fine.

“Thank God,” you say sincerely.

Carol smiles at you and says, “I’m glad you kids are alright. I’m going to go let Maggie know you are here; she was looking for you.”

Just as she leaves, Carl comes back into the room with a first-aid kit in one hand and a note in the other. “Enid’s gone; she left a note sharing, ‘Just survive somehow.’”

He sits on the edge of the couch. You go to grab the first-aid bag from him, but Carl keeps a tight hold of it. You roll your eyes playfully at him and say, “I can do it myself.”

Carl gives you a doubtful look. “You won’t do it right because you’ll not want it to hurt.”

He had a point.

After you were sure there was no more immediate danger, you removed your shoe and sock to assess the damage you had done coming out of the shower, and to your disgust, one of your toes had bruises and was swollen, and one of the nails had split, causing the bleeding.

Not wanting to seem like a big baby, you bit down on your tongue as Carl cleaned your foot and wrapped your toes together with a bandage.

“You know, I really could have done it myself.”

He shrugs. “I know, but I don’t mind. I remember watching my mom bandage a woman called Jacqui’s foot up after she tripped and fell in camp one day.”

“What happened to Jacqui?” You ask curiously, since you hadn’t heard him mention her before.

“She killed herself.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

“She had given up.” Carl shakes his head. “I sometimes think about the camp I stayed in when the outbreak first started. I miss it. The day my dad found us was probably the best day of my life.”

“I miss the farm; I miss my daddy.” Feeling your eyes start to tear up again, you pat at Carl’s hand. “But if you hadn’t left that camp, then we never would have met.”

You sit in a comfortable silence for a few moments, then Carl moves closer to you, saying, “Thank you. For saving me.”

“Don’t thank me; you would have done the same thing.”

Closing your eyes, you try to push the memory of what happened to the back of your mind. You take a sharp intake of breath when you feel Carl press his lips against yours lightly. He pulls away after a few seconds and says, “I…I… shouldn’t have...”

You kiss him back. You remain lip-locked with Carl, your best friend, until someone clears their throat. You jump back, and Carl stands up, his face flushed red with embarrassment. “Hi Maggie,” he says nervously. “I’m just going to go and check on Judith.”

Maggie has a wide grin on her face; she found it amusing how awkward you looked. “I came as soon as Carol told me where you were; she said you'd hurt your foot.”

“I hurt it earlier, but it’s fine now.”

“Really?” She sits down on the edge of the table across from you. “Carol said it was bleeding and bruised.”

“It was, but Carl bandaged it.”

“With his mouth?” She laughs.

“Don’t.”

Maggie tries her best to hide her growing smile with her hand. “Okay, so I gotta ask, do you know how protection works?”

“Yes.”

“You sure? Because I remember what it’s like to be a teenager with raging hormones. You are both smart kids, but you’re almost nearly sixteen.”

Heat rushes to your face. “Oh my god, Maggie, seriously?”

“Y/n, I’m being deadly serious. This is an important subject, and I just need to know how much you learned before.“

You cut her off. “Of course I know how babies are made. Why the sudden interest in my sexual education, aside from trying to embarrass me to death?”

“I’m pregnant.”

[velvetydream]

꒰ :🥀 [ Meet by Fate - Welcome to Aurora ] ”♡ᵎ꒱ˀˀ ↷ ⋯

Part 1 - Meet by fate

Summary : It was a normal day for you or so you though, while enjoying one of your last walks through the town and docks, you meet some strange people.

Pairing : Pirate! Kim Hongjoong x fem! Reader

Word count : 1981 Words

Genre : Fluff, Romance , Slow burn

Warnings ➵ None??

a/n : First part of this new story! Also don't worry only the first 4 chapters will be a bit shorter, bcs those are the ones I wrote back in 2021, new ones will defi be longer!♡

《 Masterlist 》

┌───────────────────────── ·  ·  ·  · ♡

Being the princess of a mighty and powerfull king was definitely not always easy. You had duties to full fill, always had to be formal and like the perfect little princess everyone wanted to make you out to be.

But for what? You had no freedom, no say what to do in your life, who to marry and what not and all this would be even much worse soon.

Just recently did your father announce that you would to be married to Prince Chris of some really wealthy island, did you want that? No, of course not.

You may have meet him a few times, he wasn't a bad guy at all, you just didn't want to get married this young and on top only for the sake of your kingdoms economy. But your mother always told you, a princess had to marry a prince, even though you never understood that, why couldn't a prince or princess rule their kingdom alone? And maybe even find love someday and marry the person you love. Beside you weren't even next for the throne, it was your brother Jae.

And that arranged marriage got you to where you were right now, taking one of your last strolls through your town, through the dock and seeing all the lively and happy townspeople, this all would come to an end soon. Wanting to taste this freedom one last time, before your would be selled off to another kingdom, much to your dissmay.

Not watching where your feet took you, you bumped quit hardly into someone, making you stumble and fall to the ground. Of course wanted one of your guards to immediately run to you, but you stopped them, as soon as you noticed the hand of the stranger you bumped into extend towards you.

"I'm so sorry miss, I should've watched where I was going, are you hurt in any way?" The stranger asked as you take his hand in yours and let yourself be helped up, just now you noticed how pretty the man in front of you truely was.

He looked like some kind of prince, he had blond hair and a almost perfect face, you never knew someone so pretty was living in your town. "Don't worry, I'm fine." Eyeing your guard, you make it clear to him to stay back.

"May I ask for your name? I think I never saw you around." Looking at the pretty stranger, he immediately starts to smile, making him a lot more attractive. "My name is Seonghwa Miss, may I ask about your too?" Starting to smile, you answer him, making his eyes go slightly bigger, he probably knew now that you were the princess. "So you're probably the princess I assume, I'm again very sorry for my manners your highness." Seonghwa apologises again, after you confirmed to him that you indeed are the princess.

"Seonghwa, Yunho is looking for you, he wants to know what you got in this town." A man talked, slowly approaching the two of you, he was slightly shorter than Seonghwa, had brown hair and just now did you notice how odly dressed both were. "Ah Hongjoong, I'm sorry, I got caught up in a conversation with the princess." The man, Hongjoong, now stood beside him, eyeing you up and down. "The princess huh? It's a pleasure to meet you, your highness." Hongjoong starts talking to you, giving a smile your way, these guys really seemed somewhat odd.

Seonghwa quickly left after Hongjoongs arrival, making the it to be only the two of you now, if you ignore your guard at that.

"So, what brings the princess into the town? Shouldn't you be in your castle?" Hongjoong now asks, he still seemed somewhat strange, but you tried to ignore this feeling. You explained to him, that you would be married to some wealthy prince soon and wanted to taste the last bit of freedom you could get, making him slightly chuckle, which offended you just a slight bit. "And what buisness brings you here?" Asking this, got you another chuckle from the man in front of you.

"We are just stocking up on some supplies before we set sail again." Hongjoong explains, making it clear though, that he doesn't want to go further into detail about his stop in your town.

"We'll still be here for two days, find us if you need anything princess." The odd man bows slightly and makes his way to a ship, further away from the other ships, written on it stays 'Aurora', probably the ships name. Just as he walks away do you notice the sword and revolver on his belt, which makes you even more suspicious of the man and his ship. Even the way of dressing was different, to what you normally saw sailors in, which ment they probably are something different.

For now you decided to go back to the castle, not wanting to upset your parents by not showing up to dinner.

Which wasn a good idea too, at dinner your father, the king, talked about some pirates having a stop in the harbor, much to his dismay. Thinking back, Hongjoong and Seonghwa kind of gave off this dangerous aura of pirates, even though they seemed nice, there was something strange about them, maybe you really meet the pirates.

"Also . . Chris will arrive in three days, so we cam prepare the wedding." Your mother announced and immediately after she said that, your appetite was gone, of course this had to be brought up just now. Laying your utensils down, you tap your mouth with the napkin.

"Excuse me, I'll go to my chambers now, I want to sleep early and visit the town again, goodnight father, mother, brother." Now standing up and making your way out of the big dining hall and in the direction of your chambers.

Falling on your soft bed, you let out a quit sight, what would you give to not marry that prince, what would you give for freedom, hell you would give up you royal blood if that meant freedom.

Opening the balcon doors, you walk to the edge, eyes on the dock now, eyeing the ship with the writing Aurora on it. What would you give for their freedom. To roam the seas, free of rules and duties.

Shaking your head you make your way inside again, you shouldn't think like that it's your duty to serve your kingdom and ensure it's wealth, even if that meant giving up your freedom. Getting ready for bed now, you think about the things to do tomorrow in town, maybe visit the little bakery or the florist.

With your thoughs by the next day, you fall into a deep sleep.

Getting up the next day, you got dressed in something light again, ate with your family before making your way into town again, followed by your guard of course.

The first stop was the bakery, getting yourself a little muffin, which you ate while walking, it doesn't matter anymore if you have to keep a good look as the princess, soon you wouldn't be here anymore either way. So why not enjoy your time.

Walking along the dock again, you found yourself in front of the writing Aurora again, not really knowing how you got there, your guard now closer than before, probably knowing who this ship belonged to.

"Hey pretty girl! Got lost?" A voice called from the ship and as you looked up, you were meet with yet another handsom man, looking down at you from the ship. His hair was similar to Seonghwas, just did his hair have an ashy undertone. "Wanna get on board?" The blonde man asked with a big grin on his lips, before a slap landed on his head. "Don't invited strangers on this ship, Hongjoong will get mad at you Wooyoung." A brown haired man told Wooyung now and by now you really asked yourself how all of them could be so handsome.

"Good thing she isn't a stranger, come on up, you can take a look at the ship." Called a voice you already knew, Seonghwa walked by you, a big bag in his hand, and to the direction of the small bridge connecting the ship and dock.

A look at your guard and he was standing still, while you followed Seonghwa excitet onto the ship called Aurora.

When you stood on the railing the little bridge was connected to, the man called Wooyoung held out his hand for you to take, which you gladly took and thanked him of course.

"And Jongho, be nice to the princess." Seonghwa told the brown haired man over his shoulder, making his eyes go wide, same goes for Wooyung.

"Wait you're the princess? Like a real life princess of this kingdom?" Wooyoung asked in shock, looking you up and down real quick, making you giggle slightly. "I am indeed still the princess of this kingdom." After you answered, your eyes immediately wandered across the ship, out of curiosity.

Wooyung immediately offered to show you the ship, taking the offer gladly, following Wooyoung around, meanwhile Jongho stayed back with a slight look of distrust towards you.

"Don't be to intimidated by Jongho, he is actually a really nice guy." Wooyoung explains to you, walking up a small set of stairs to the quarter deck, where the steering wheel was, from that point you could see the whole ship, which was quit impressive.

Following Wooyoung down the stairs again, you now could make out two new voices you never heard before, talking to Jongho. As you looked up, you weren't believing this world anymore, there again stood two handsome man and by now you believe everyone on this ship is handsome.

One of the mand had dark brown hair with reddish streaks in them and about average height, while the other one was quit tall, with brown, slightly swept back hair.

"Wait we have the princess on board right now?" The one with reddish streaks in his hair asks surprised, Wooyoung who heard everything laughed, making the group turn towards the two of you.

"She is pretty!" The brown haired one immediately said, going over to the two of you and holding out his hand, which you shake smiling, while he introduces himself. "I'm Mingi, it's a pleasure to meet your princess." Now the other man stood by Mingi, he was giving you a charming grin. "I'm San, did you meet the whole crew by now?" San asked and just when you wanted to answer, echoed a thud amogst the deck and boots clicking against the wooden flooring.

"Even if she didn't, she won't, cause she will be going now, this is not the place for a princess. Who even let her on here?" Hongjoongs voice echoed over the ship, right now he was obviously a pirate, a pirate hat sitting among his brownish hair, as he now looked over at Seonghwa, who spoke up.

"I let her on, she was curious and I saw no harm in it." Seonghwa answered, making Hongjoong roll his eyes just slightly, by now you could assume Hongjoong was the captain of this ship.

"Maybe for her, but I definitely don't want to be executed, when the king finds her here." Jongho spoke up, but keeping quit again after Hongjoong send a glare his way.

"He is right, the small talk was fine, but this isn't, I'm sorry but you have to go princess." After this sentence, Hongjoong makes his way into his cabine, giving Seonghwa one last look, probably making it clear to get you off the ship.

"I still hope you had a good time." A few smiles were send your way as Seonghwa layed a hand on your lower back and guided you off the ship, you waved one last time, Wooyoung and Mingi waving back, with a sad pout on both their face, making you giggle.

Making your way back to your guard now, you tell him to get going to the castle again, making him swear to keep the event today to himself and not tell anyone.

Back at the castle was wating a unpleasant surprise for you though . . .

[robin-the-enby]

Hi! Can I get an angst/comfort fic of Arthur with a female s/o who is depressed and suicidal? Like he walks in on his s/o c*tting while having a mental breakdown? Or he just notices the cuts/scars? Or he walks in on his s/o bl33ding out?? Idk you can get creative with it I’ve just been having an extremely rough couple months. If this makes you uncomfortable then you can just ignore this request, but thanks anyways! I hope you have a great day/night!! <3

It's my problem if I feel the need to hide

Pairing: Arthur x f!reader

Summary: You feel under the weather, but decide not to tell anyone. As your condition only worsens, your friends start to worry about you. It's when you decide to let everything go your knight with blue eyes and a cheeky smile comes to the rescue.

Warnings: depression, suicidal ideation, not being able to care for oneself (containing lack of hygiene and proper meals), mentions of vomit(ing) (3), negative self talk, dark thoughts

A/N: I am so sorry for the delay of this fic, I hope it will be of use to you still. I haven't written for this fandom in a long while, so getting back to it was a little hard, though I enjoyed it none the less. I tried not to use any (Y/N)s and make it as racially neutral as possible, as well as appearance-neutral (Arthur carries reader 1 time, but he's stronger than a regular human, and y'all deserve it ladies, no matter your size). If anyone wants to talk about anything at all, my dms are open, as well as my ask box. Take care of yourselves and stay safe!

The human mind is possibly nature's greatest invention. The complexity with which all its components interact to keep the body functioning is nothing short of phenomenal. And not only that, but it is aware of itself, encasing its own conscience inside a safe vessel, built and evolved specifically to protect it. And as time progressed, and all the basic needs of the body were cared for, there came a need to create. The body could easily be fed, but the conscience needed a different type of sustenance.

The human mind is capable of incredible things. It can set goals for itself as well as achieve them. It shaped the entire world to its liking, for better or for worse. The human mind is the reason why we live the lives we do today. It is the thing that keeps us alive and sane.

It's funny how drastically that can change.

If you'd ask any of the men residing in the mansion on who the worst enemy of humans is, you're sure all of them would at least mention the human conscience, if not directly choose it. After all, their lives have been woven through with the thread of sorrow, the perpetrator being none other than the human mind- theirs or someone else's.

At this point, you feel like you've at least got a peek at the complex inner worlds of history's greatest minds. Some you knew better than others, but you've been le Comte's servant for long enough to consider all the mansion's residents at least friends.

It was evident to anyone who has been in the mansion for at least a month that all of the people (and vampires) residing in it had some sort of baggage, wearing them down even in their second undead life. Some were better at hiding it than others, some just felt more comfortable keeping their troubles to themselves, while others' emotions and traumas were sometimes too great, too overwhelming to be kept locked inside their bodies.

You've tried your best to help those who needed it, both physically and mentally. It helped a few to open up to you at least a little and as time went on, with your hard work, you've earned respect for yourself even amongst the toughest nuts in the mansion. Poking through others' personal affairs and traumas carried along numerous fights as well as apologies and in the end just served to strengthen the bond between you and the residents. And yet, at times like these...you couldn' help but feel alone.

Like all the others, you had to shoulder the burden of traumas, insecurities and unpleasant experiences collected unwillingly throughout your life. You suspected the others knew of this, or at least had a hunch that you, like all of them, haven't had the pleasure of living a carefree life.

They saw you as an independent, strong and courageous woman, resilient and kind in any situation. And if you were in the right state of mind, you would agree. But lately, you began to doubt these traits of yours, the ones you valued so much and were valued for.

You weren't a stranger to struggling and you knew that anyone in need of help deserved to receive it and should not be scared to ask for it.

So why did the thought of asking for help make your stomach churn?

You've been pondering that question for a few days now. Lately, your entire reality seemed to have shifted. At first, you didn't think anything was wrong, a simple bad day, or a bad week wasn't anything to be too worried about. Nothing a nice, relaxing weekend couldn't fix, right? And yet, when you had tasks to complete, you felt agitated and annoyed, but when you had nothing to do, you were antsy and restless. Always feeling like something should be happening, like you should be doing something. For some reason, you couldn't make yourself to do the things you felt you should be doing.

Soon everything has become a bother. Tasks you could usually do with one hand were suddenly so hard that by the end of the day, the thought of bathing or changing into clean clothes made you want to scream until your throat was sore. And so you chipped away at your routine that you so painstainkingly built when you appeared in this time, until the only remaining activities in your days were your work and some basic necessities.

You knew it was getting bad. And it constantly created an almost numbing whirlwind of emotions you really didn't need right now. Why was this happening? What brought it on? Why now?? Is it going to get worse? All these questions and none you had an answer to. You had guesses and various techniques you learnt here and there back in your time, but...you couldn't bring yourself to do anything.

You were trapped. At least it felt like it. Trapped inside yourself, inside your mind. You knew you should tell someone, that if you let it go on, it would sooner or later consume you. But you couldn't do anything. It was as if your body didn't listen to you.

It seemed the residents were starting to get suspicious of your strange mood as of late. There were times when one of them would approach you and carefully ask about your wellbeing, and as much as you wanted to say something, you never did. You logically knew that the first step would be the one to break through the loop, the one that would make all the others just a little bit easier until you felt normal again. But anytime you tried to break through the selfdestructive habits you had fallen into, a wave of such tirednes, nausea and shame overcame you, that you simply caved to your mind's twisted whispers.

You concluded that your best option at this moment was to lay low and let it pass. Your days have become a steady routine of wake up, work, go to bed. And repeat. It was manageable, at first, even with the onslaught of thoughts your mind was conjuring, managing to come up with more and more ways to taunt you with. But as days and then weeks passed, your energy slowly seeped away from your body and it retaliated by shutting off and out anything unnecessary to save as much of what was remaining.

These things included mostly socialising. You became less talkative, while you would usually enthusiastically engage in conversations, if not outright start them, lately you would not speak unles directly spoken to. It has taken a toll on your concentration as well. Many times when someone would try to strike up a conversation with you, they'd have to repeat their question or even call out your name mid-conversation, because mentally you just weren't there. These things not only started to worry Sebastian, your biggest constant in your new life, given that you worked alongside him every day, but also the other residents. You knew of this, as out of it as you might have seemed and/or have been these past few weeks, you knew that they noticed, because you knew them. But what started as a simple snowball had alrady turned into an avalanche and you had to admit that you were no longer in control.

Not that you really cared. You knew you should care, should be trying harder than ever to break out of this spell, but you couldn't. And every time you might have felt strong enough to confess how you were feeling, to lean on someone, to get the help you knew you needed, a sudden pang of fear pierced your chest and you shrivelled back, back into your own small shell that was your skull.

Trying to find a reason for this foolish anxiety proved not so easy, when your mind would make up about five reasons why you should keep your mouth shut every time you even dared to ask yourself such a question.

What if they didn't believe you?

What if it wasn't not that bad?

What if you were just making it up? Making it seem bigger than it is?

These people have gone through so much. They've seen war, witnessed and felt abuse and probably had been through things you couldn't even imagine. Why should they help you, when they're the ones who needed help?

You were not worthy.

Such comparisons were something you chastised anyone who would confess experiencing them for. And yet, when it came to you, it felt like a holy truth. Something that could not and should not be questioned. Because you don't want to be selfish, do you?

You've dealt with this by yourself before, surely you could do it again and not drag down others with you. These and many others became your daily mantras. Lay low, hide, be small, don't make a noise. Survive. But was that really how you wanted to live? If you could even call that a living. You were surviving, yes, but at what cost? For a promise of a period of time where you wouldn't feel like the world is made out of cardboard? A period of time where you wouldn't feel like screaming and crying every second of every day? And how long would that last? A few months, a year maybe? Was it really worth the struggle?

You blinked yourself out of your thoughts when someone vigorously snapped in front of your eyes. Looking around in slight daze, your eyes fall upon a smiling face. "There you are! Theo says he's just waiting for you to walk face first into a wall!" Arthur says cheerily, showing you his signature smirk. "I, like the good friend I am, keep defending you of course. But it's hard when your mind seems to get further and further away from us every day. At this rate, you'll wander off into Seine soon. And we wouldn't want that, would we?" he playfully jabbed at you.

You could feel yourself shaking your head, but the only thing you could focus on was how nice it acually seemed, the cold water seeping through clothes and circling your limbs, the undercurrents keeping you down, where nothing could get you, laying you down onto the riverbed, weighed by the water in your lungs... "So, what's going on in that noggin of yours, hm?"

Arthur was, besides Sebastian, the closest person to you out of all the others. You enjoyed his easygoing demeanor and his jokes never failed to make you laugh. He was a terrible flirt though, and someties could be pretty pushy with his advances as you've realised over the time you two spent together. Luckilly, after a firm conversation backed up by Theo, he had calmed down significantly towards you. The writer still heavily complimented you, always putting that silver tongue of his to use, but you thought nothing of it. He was like that with everyone, even some of the other residents, so the possibility of it ever meaning anything more than banter or a simple compliment never even crossed your mind.

"You're doing it again." the man in question sighed. You blinked at him with confusion. As if reading your thoughts, Arthur clarified "You're in your head again. It must be something really interesting in there to make you so distracted." he joked again, but his expression turned serious "But honestly, what's going on? You haven't been yourself for quite a while now and everyone's getting worried. Even Wolf asked me if I knew what was up with you the other day!" the writer looked at you intently "You know that we're here for you, right? Even if you feel like it's stupid, if you need anything, you can tell us."

You averted your eyes from Arthur' piercing gaze. You knew his words were sincere and it made your chest squeeze uncomfortably. Looking straight ahead, in the direction which you were going, you answered, trying to make your voice as leveled as you could "Thank you for worrying Arthur, but I'm alright, really. I've been thinking of asking le Comte for a break. It would be nice to have some off time." This wasn't a complete lie, since having some down time, where you could pretend time has stopped really did sound appealing, but now you'd have to actually go and ask the good count, which you really didn't want to. Not because you were worried you wouldn't be given a break, but because it was another plan to be made and you barely had enough energy to last you until the end of the day, much less go somewhere out of your own volition.

Arthur knew that you were lying, or at least not telling him everything, so he grinned at you again and spoke confidently "Alright, love, the game is on! I gave you a chance to explain youself, but it seems I'll have to solve this mystery myself." he winked at you and you expected him to take his leave. But Arthur softly grabbed your arm and stopped you in the middle of the halway you were in. Turning to face him in his hold you looked at him questioningly. His smile is much softer now, and if you could focus properly, you would see worry glinting in his eyes "If you ever change your mind, you can stop by. Day, night, doen't matter. We're here for you, love. I'm here for you. Just as much as you're here for us." and as soon as he finished speakig, he was gone. Down the hallway, in the direction of his room. You quietly turned around, trying to process the strange encounter while you went your way.

Your mind was surprisingly quiet for a few hours after that.

You eventually did end up in le Comte's study. Nerves were wracking your body and mind the entire day and when you finally did enter the dreaded room, after all your chores were done for the day, you felt like you would start crying at any moment. For some reason, you felt awful for doing this. You didn't need the break. You didn't need off time to get better physically or because you had too many chores. Why did you want a break, besides Arthur catching on that there was, indeed, something wrong? The only thing you had planned for this break of yours was rotting away in your bed and doing as little as humanely possible. Maybe fate would be so kind and take you away in your sleep. Let you wither away like an overwatered flower.

You tried to make the discussion as quick as possible. Fortunately, the count didn't ask too many questions about your wellbeing and the reason for taking a break, remembering well that you haven't had one in a good while. He did ask if you consulted Sebas about it and you forced down a shudder at the mention of your good friend's name. Not because the butler was opposed to you taking a break, he actually kindly insisted you take one, revealing that he also noticed your mental absence in the past weeks, which could be almost counted as a month now. The worry and confusion in his tone as well as his expression made you wish he told you to stay, to help him, anything to try and convince you to not do what you were about to.

Why were you so worried? There wasn't a reason you should feel bad about taking a break. Even if you physically were just as spry as a grasshopper, taking a break for the sake of mental health was just as important. But deep down, you coudn't lie to yourself. Deep down you knew you were going to give up completely. Either for someone to find you, or to be left to rot. And right now, you hoped for the latter, even if it was still scary to admit.

After Comte gave you a week off, asking if it was enough time for you, which you hastily confirmed, feeling bile rise up your throat and wishing for the comfines of your room, your shaky legs and hazy mind managed to carry you to your room. After spending some time emptying the contents of your stomach, which were absolutely too small you would bet, you nothing but collapsed onto your bed. Mouth unrinsed, hair oily and ruffled, it had finally dawned on you how much of a mess you must have loked like. This realisation finally seemed to open the dam that was holding back everything you were feeling. The disgust, the shame, the fear, the anxiety the heavines, the loneliness, but most importnatly the longing.

Fast, salty tears carried all of that out of your body, leaving your face a puffy, sticky mess. Suddenly, you felt rage boil inside of your chest, sprading quickly to your head. Why didn't you say anything? You were so worried and because of what? Your own mind? Could you be any more stupid? The very same mind that put you through absolute hell this past month was now angry at itself, at its own actions. Why did the world have to be this cruel? Why couldn't it grant you the simple request of a mind that would not try to sabotage itself? And now it was too late.

Yo chose this, you thought to yourself. You chose this and these were the consequences of your actions. As if the tears have released all your pent up frustration in your body, all that it left was numbness. A kind of numbness that made your eyelids heavy, making them gravitate towards each other and pulling you into a deep, calm slumber. The kind of slumber you have not been able to achieve for more than the month you've been actively suffering. But also the kind of slumber that would not bring you closer to salvation.

You woke up, not knowing the time and not really finding yourself caring either. You felt strangely...calm. There was no hunger, no thirst, nothing. Only suffocating quiet, the likes of which you would feel in the deep blue of the ocean. You laid stil for what felt like hours, but could have also been minutes, before you succumbed to unconsciousness again.

This has gone on for a few days of your week long break. At one point you felt the pang of hunger, yet you had no will to satiate it. You only rose from your bed late into the night, when the squeezing walls of your stomach, at this point surely eating itself, threatened to spill nothing but its own acid. You tiptoed as quietly as your stiff muscles could into the kitchen, and after munching on some bread and water, because even though you got up, you still didn't feel like cooking, or that you deserved anything more than the simplest of dishes, you quietly stalked the halls back into your room. You fell asleep again, your stomach satisfied, or maybe convinced into satisfaction by your mind, the last thing you heard was the faint sound of Mozart's piano in the dead of the night.

This cycle had repeated for another few days. Your days were interrupted by quiet knocking that would wake you from your slow decline, and sometimes joined by murmurs behind the door. You couldn't find it in you to care. The door wasn't locked. At one point, you could swear you saw a shadow in your window, but it was gone too soon for your slowed mind to focus on it.

One morning, somewhere at the end of your break, not that you were keeping track of time, your door opened. A gust of fresh air was the first thing that barged its way into your room, chasing out the old and musty, albeit warm air from it. You shivered and wiggled deeper under your covers, grumbling hoarsely in protest. Your half asleep mind registered someone slowly walking into your room, as if they were scared to find out what was in it. You kept your eyes closed.

Arthur knelt down beside your bed, looking at your sickly, worn out face. Carefully sneaking his arm under your blanket, his hand searched for yours until it could take it into its own. Caressing your knuckles with his thumb, he cooed softly "Oh, love. I am so sorry. I am so sorry we let this get so far." You didn't respond. What was there to say? "It isn't your fault" you croaked out quietly, not having enough energy to say it loudly and fearing your voice wouldn't work.

"Why did you hide from us? We would've helped..." the writer almost whined, and you could feel the guilt and worry radiating from him. You wanted so desperately to answer, to give him a good reason for how foolish you were acting, but you couldn't. There was nothing that would excuse you. Nothing.

Seeing your slightly open eyes well up with tears, Arthur rushed closer to comfort you. Shushing and soothing you like a small child after a booster shot, he held you close and you tried not to weep hader. "It's alright, love, everything is alright. I've got you. I've got you now, it's good. You're alright."

After you calmed down slightly, you wanted nothing more than to shoo him away, close yourself off again an bury yourself into your bed to get away from the immense shame you felt. But Arthur seemed to be having none of that. He softly but insistently reached under you and helped you sit up with one arm, holding your hand with the other still. you couldn't bring yourslf to look him in the eye and yet his tone never changed from the soft lull he comforted you with. "Come on now, darling. Let's get you cleaned up."

Your mind wanted desperately to push back at him, scream and yell and fight, but you almost limply let him straighten you up and help you walk over to the bathroom. The writer's heart nearly broke in two as he saw you in the same clothes you were in when he last spoke to you. The image of you suffering in silence for so long made him nearly tear up as well, but he held himself back, focusing on you being his biggest priority.

He ran a bath for you, helped you out of your clothes, his gaze never cascading from your face, looking for any signs of overstepping any boundaries and when he found none, he helped you into the bathtub, first washing your hair and then your body, asking if you could and wanted to handle your private parts yourself. You whispered out a small yes, feeling somewhat ashamed still and wanting to make his efforts a bit easier. Letting you soak in the blissfully warm water, a question appeared in your mind "Arthur..." you called out quietly "Were you the one knocking at my door?" you asked timidly, not knowing fully if it wasn't some kind of delirium your mind put you through. The writer's face became solemn as you took a peek at his face and he spoke, his words and tone equally heavy "Everyone did. We were worried about you. After we heard about your break, we thought it might do you well. Everyone noticed that you weren't quite yourself. But after the first few days, when no one ever saw you leave the mansion, let alone your room, our worries doubled. Wolf said he noticed you walking to the kitchen at night, but Sebas only noticed small portions of bread disappearing from the kitchen, so we wanted to check up on you. We tried knocking at your door, not wanting to disturb you if you really were physically ill, but that didn't do anything." "And the window?" you interrupted him, casting your eyes downward again at the rude gesture. But Arthur continued, with no offense taken "That was Dazai. He was checking up on you a lot. In his own way." Arthur smiled sadly "Today, I had enough. Something was telling me you needed help. And I'm glad I listened to my instinct." he smiled at you and you felt your dry lips lift up ever so slightly. You were found when you needed it the most, it seemed.

After Arthur dried you off and helped you put on fresh clothes, he told you Sebas made a nutritious meal for you that wouldn't upset your stomach. He also suggested it would do you good to get out of your room for at least a little while and eat it in the kitchen. Seeing the panic in your eyes, he rushed to assure you "You don't have to talk to anyone if you don't want to." And so you nodded.

The mansion seemed awfully quiet. There was no one in the halls, no sounds from either corner of the building. On your slow trek to the kitchen, you passed Mozart. The musician didn't say anything, but his lips melted from their usual stern frown to a warm smile and you couldn't help but to start crying again. Athur sat down with you on the cold ground of the hallway, pulling you onto his lap and rocking you back and forth until you felt good enough to walk again. Mozart was nowhere in sight.

You found out that Sebas made you a delicious soup, one with enough vegetables and some meat, the broth strong enough to get you up on your feet in no time. You ate slowly and savoured every spoonful. You suddenly realised how much you've missed eating good food. After your meal was done and Arthur washed your bowl and spoon in silence, he slowly sat down next to you. "How are you feeling?" he asked carefully, knowing that you were nowhere near out of the deep end yet, but desperately hoping his efforts weren't for naught. "Better. Fuller." you answered simply. After another beat of comfortable silence, where you soaked up the sun pouring in through the windows, the writer asked again "Would you like to go back to your room?" You pursed your lips. Suddenly, the idea of your bed and the stuffy room you hid yourself away in sounded horrible. But he comfortable, fluffy clothes and full stomach were pullig at your eyelids again, sleep threatening to take over. "My room it is, then?"

Arthur piped up and you nodded. Before you knew it, you were scooped up bridal style by the vampire, feeling his soft lips on your hairline "Rest, love. I've got you." Soon, you were in a room that smelled of coffe and cologne with a hint of ink. Once again, you wriggled under the covers, these ones feeling much fresher than yours, as you succumbed to sleep once again. But this time, you weren't alone.

[yanderes-galore]

DBD Ghostie with your 13, 35, and 53 prompts?????

Oh sure! I had @okchijt help me due to the lack of plot! Hope you enjoy what we came up with :) Admittedly ended up taking my own route in the end of this but I did use their ideas a motivation this time! This was originally supposed to be like Evan's story but was changed as I was writing.

Yandere! DBD! Ghostface Prompts 13, 35, 53

"So what if a few people have to die? It'll only bring us closer!"

"Don't push me away, dear... I only want to be closer to you!"

"I left you a few voice mails, why didn't you pick up?"

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Stalking, Obsession, Murder, Manipulation, Technically kidnapping, Blood, Threats, Choking/Suffocation, Delusional behavior, Darling most likely has PTSD, Forced relationship, Creepy behavior.

Back in your hometown you've heard of the infamous Ghostface killer. There's been legends in other towns about it and there's even been coverage on it in the papers where you live. You never used to be all that scared of it, murder's something that happens in the city and some communities. It's eerie but the chances are low when it comes to it happening to you.

Until you got those infamous calls on the phone.

You told yourself that it would all be fine. You knew your friends and family would be all okay! It's just some prank calls, you don't have a stalker... especially not Ghostface!

You quickly succumbed to fear when the calls got worse. At first they were just meant to get you scared. Then they transitioned into creepy compliments about what you're wearing. You swore you saw shapes outside your window and camera clicks when things are too quiet.

The calls went from compliments to jealous threats and rage when you were near another person. You've called the police and they said they'd keep an eye out. However, the calls never stopped.

You let them all go to voicemail once you had enough. Your dread only grew when you watched the messages pile up and up. You didn't dare listen to them, fearing the worst.

Turns out you were right... you should fear the worst.

The peak of the danger was when your window broke, a scream of terror ripping itself from your throat. A person cloaked in black garb with the traditional Ghostface mask stands in the glass when you turn around. There's an intruder in your house...

and it's exactly as you've feared.

You don't give the killer a chance to talk before you run out of your house and out the back door. As expected, the killer... your stalker gives chase. You don't bother looking back, running into the woods with your phone in hand in hopes to lose him. You quickly tried to call the cops and prayed they'd at least have an idea of where to look.

"Hey there, baby...." He coos, by their voice you can assume they're a man. "You've been ignoring me lately~"

Is that blood on his clothes?

It's all a stupid idea in hindsight, but adrenaline makes people do dumb things. At the time it felt like your best decision. Perhaps... something was leading you there?

All you knew was to run. You could hear a second pair of footsteps follow you throughout the woods. At some point... your legs give out.

The killer pounces with no hesitation.

The man flips you over and straddles your waist. A knife is pressed to your neck in a silent breathe as you hear his breathe heavy behind the mask. You shake, the adrenaline wearing off and creating hallucinations due to being out of breathe.

That should explain the sudden strange black fog pouring in, right?

"I left you a few voice mails, why didn't you pick up?" Ghostface growls, his temper flaring. "Answer me!"

"I'm scared! I'm scared of you!" You blurt out the obvious, struggling against the killer. He responds by replacing his knife with his hand to squeeze your windpipe. Now you're really struggling to breathe.

What did you do to deserve this?

"I send you messages of love... adoration! Yet you just ignore me! Maybe you just don't get it..."

He squeezes harder, probably due to his rage. You smack his arm as a warning but he appears to caught up in his own thinking. Or maybe it's something else....

By the time you give up, you hear the man say one last thing.

"I'll make you understand at some point, dear... I'm Danny, your lover and nightmare, alright?"

---

You don't entirely process his delusions... your mind and body being consumed by the thickening fog.

The sirens never even reached your ears.

You wake up with quick breaths. You sit up quickly, surrounded by friends that you've made in this realm. It was a nightmare... or more likely a memory of who you were before this mess.

"Doing okay?" A survivor asks from their spot beside the campfire. You nod to them even if you're uneasy. You've been through much worse sense thing but now there's a lingering feeling of dread in your gut. Ever since then... you've never seen the killer again.

You know he's here. He entered when you did, yet you haven't seen any sign of him. The thought makes you concerned but you don't let anyone see. You silently wait for the next trial to start and the next game of death to begin.

With a whoosh in the distance, the next feat to overcome begins. By the time you open your eyes again the fog has transported you to another realm. You calm your breathing and choose to forget the memory you recalled moments earlier... it's not important anymore.

You switch your focus on a generator and let your mind wander. It's your typical trial... nothing's wrong. It's normal to have that feeling of being watched...

But why does it feel so familiar?

That isn't in your head... is it?

You're startled by a scream in the distance. You try to focus on your work and ignore it for now. You'll get them later... it'll be okay.

You focus on the generator with a survivor running over to help you. It's just like any trial. You're just thinking of the past....

You're shocked to your senses when a scream happens beside you. You blow the generator and quickly turn to see a figure holding the survivor that was with you. Black garb... Ghostface mask...

The demon from your past rears his ugly mask.

He gives you one look and a wave before disappearing into the shadows with the struggling survivor. You can barely hear anything except for the blood roaring in your ears. Adrenaline kicks in just like that night long ago... and you do what you do best.

Run.

This was no longer like the trials you knew. To you this was a repeat of your nightmare, your past. The blood, the forest, the fog... him.

It's all en echo of what happened before.

Your thoughts are confirmed by another scream, one different from the rest.

You continue to run, lost and confused in your own memories. You fear you're being watched again. You're hunted by the one you fear most.

"It's about time I saw you again."

A knife is tosses beside your head, hitting a wall by you. You freeze and turn your head towards the killer. His clothes smell metallic and he strolls towards you with a cocky stance.

"I see you remember me, you're quivering. It's me... your one and only Danny. I've been waiting to meet you again, it was bound to happen eventually."

"You already killed them... didn't you?"

"The Entity allowed me to bend a few rules for us." Ghostface... Danny purrs in a way that makes you ill. "So what if a few people have to die? It'll only bring us closer!"

"Closer!? The hell do you mean-"

"Aw, is that the part you forgot? Did you forget the fact that you and I are a thing? We're meant to be lovers, you and I! Why else did I call you every hour of the day and night?"

He comes closer, one hand grabbing his knife in the wall while the other quickly locks you in place. He's teasing you, he loves this torment. He loves to scare you....

"Stay away! Not again! I don't want to relive that night!"

"Don't push me away, dear... I only want to be closer to you!"

He holds you in place, this time a hand on your shoulder. He threatens to grab your neck like back then but allows you to be compliant. Even his words appear to be a threat for you to comply.

"Ohhh... I missed you..." He sighs, pulling you into a strange embrace before moving his mask enough so his lips are shown. "I've missed you, been wanting to see you for a long time now. I want to keep you... to love you... now I can."

He tilts your chin up, a twisted grin of satisfaction on his face.

"Even if you don't want me to."

He kisses you... but you don't fight. You were bound to see him again some day. You hoped you'd never have to.

Yet this is The Entity's realm...

It thrives on torment.

[swiftsdelucaa]

I apologize in advance for the sadness of this request.......

Could I please have a fic where the reader and Andrew DeLuca we're together before he died. A few weeks after his death Carina notices that the reader is showing signs of being pregnant. So she asks her about her symptoms and tells her to take a test. The test is positive and both of them cry. Then Carina promises that she’ll help with her little niece or nephew. And tells her that Andrew would be happy.

❛ 𝑶𝒏 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒔𝒊𝒅𝒆 ❜

𝙋𝙖𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜: Andrew DeLuca x pregnant!reader ♡

𝘼/𝙣: Okay- yes this was- 😭 But don't worry, here's :')

(I know 💔)

Everything is terrible. What you felt was terrible.

Your body could only shed tears continuously at all those moments where you thought about him, when you were together. You still couldn't understand anything, things were so good, everything was so beautiful. You and Andrew had even come to live together, having him with you every day all the day seemed like a dream. He did everything to make you the happiest girl in this world, it was enough for him to see you smile and everything became more pleasant for him. It was the same for you.

If you think back to the beginning of your relationship, you would never have imagined getting this far, let's say you weren't quite the each other's favorite people.

And now you couldn't imagine a life without him. You could barely be alone when he came home late from work, and now you had to get used to never seeing him again. He died trying to do what he loved the most, saving lives.

You spent the days lying on the bed, holding his pillow and still feeling his scent, as the tears kept coming down from your eyes. You just missed him too much.

The ringing of the bell managed to bring you back to reality. You tried to wipe away your tears and try to look presentable enough, climbed out of bed in one of his hoodies, and headed for the door.

You didn't want to deal with anyone at the moment, hearing another person comfort you or hearing about how amazing Andrew had been would only make your mood worse, but luckily when you opened the door you saw Carina. You got used to having her around by now, she came to see you every day.

"Come in" you told her as she set her purse down on the sofa, turning back to you for a better look. You weren't okay, at all, it was obvious.

"How are you feeling?" you sighed at her question, but you knew she was referring to your health. Yes, for a few days you were starting to feel nauseous, probably from stress or the shock of your body.

"Now I've just an annoying headache, I'm just..." you stopped, unable even to finish the sentence, feeling a strange sensation, your vision became blurred, you lost your balance letting you fall.

"Y/n!" Carina managed to catch you in her arms in time avoiding the impact on the floor. "Can you hear me? Y/n, please!" she laid you down on the sofa, seconds later you had already come to your senses.

"Oh God, you scared me to death" she sighed with relief to see you awake. "Y/n..."

"If you're going to say that it would be better to do tests in the hospital, no... I'm just tired-"

"I actually wanted to talk to you about something else, for a while now, but I didn't know how to tell you..." you stood up sitting up, you noticed a strange expression on her face.

“See, your symptoms exactly mirror those of a pregnancy…” she just wanted to try not to hurt you more as she said it.

"No, that's- I- I'm not" in your mind you were looking for all the possible proofs to deny it, but unfortunately, thinking about it deeply, it all seemed so frighteningly true.

"Nausea, breast enlargement, and now fainting, these are the classic initial symptoms that appear" you looked at her continuing to think deeply. This whole period had completely destroyed you that even pushed you to ignore everything, how is this possible?

Carina walked over to the purse she had set down, pulling something out of it. "That's why I think you need to take a test, at least we'll be sure" she handed it to you, but before taking it you stared at it for a few seconds. A big part of you kept repeating ʼI can'tʼ, but the other part deep down wanted to know, so you made up your mind without thinking twice, and headed for the bathroom.

Every second of waiting killed you more and more, then when the result finally came out you didn't move from there. Carina came in having noticed that you were taking longer than necessary, finding yourself in front of the mirror with a tear running down your cheek and falling near the point where the test with the positive result was placed. She couldn't help to not hold back the tears too, indeed it was her brother, and now it was his baby who would grow up without a father.

"Y/n... okay, look at me" you had no choice but to listen to her.

"You're pregnant. You're gonna have a baby. You have my nephew or niece in your womb, your and Andrew's baby!" her voice broke slightly at the end. You knew this was a wonderful thing, but it scared you so much, what if you weren't able to?

"Without him I can barely face a day, how could I raise his baby? I just want him with me back... I want him with our baby..." the tears kept coming out, but Carina wiped them from your face trying to reassure you.

"Listen to me, I know you miss him a lot, I miss him too, and I know this hurts. Yeah he's not here, but look, I have a beautiful girlfriend, and we'll get married, and now you'll have a baby! Knowing my brother I know he would have been the happiest person in this world, and certainly the best father" you laughed spontaneously at the thought, he loved kids, and kids loved him.

"And I will always be there for you, whenever you need me, I promise you" before you could begin to sob you hugged her tightly.

"You're not alone Y/n" she whispered to you as she wrapped her arms around you making you feel safe.

"Thank you" you said taking deep breaths.

This pregnancy has had its ups and downs, it was demanding, you made a lot of effort to be able to move forward in the best possible way. The beginning was the hardest part, but then when you felt that baby growing inside you and starting to move, you felt indescribable emotions, you couldn't wait to know him. Or her. Yes, you didn't want to know the sex.

Carina had kept her promise, she had been on your side every single second, in pregnancy, in moments of panic, when you felt bad, anything. Sometimes she told you some stories about when she and her brother were little, you liked listening to them, even if often she repeated how many tantrums Andrew threw, hoping your baby won't inherit, but you amused.

Then when the birth time came it seemed like you couldn't figure anything out anymore. When your waters broke you were in a restaurant with Carina, and, continuing to remain calm, she helped you get into the car, doing as soon as possible to get to the hospital, while you could only scream in pain excruciating that had taken over your whole body. You almost thought you couldn't make it, it hurt so much, and when they laid you on the bad you felt an enormous need to push. Carina told you over and over to wait, but this stupid baby was stubborn.

But when that moment comes, everything ceases to exist for you, there's only the sound of crying that marks the birth of a new life, and it literally melts your heart.

"It's a boy!" Carina exclaimed as she took him. She checked him for a moment and then finally placed him between your arms.

"He's... perfect" there were no right words, you kept looking at your son with a smile and shining eyes.

"Yes he is" Carina sat next to you.

"Damn. Look at him. It's a baby Andrew" you approached him to gently kiss his forehead, enveloping you in that perfume.

"He has his eyes" Carina added while you both you soften more and more at the sight of him. It could have lasted forever, today you would have promised to yourself that you'd done anything to give your son a wonderful life.

[fantasticarcadefan]

Teyvat and the Ascended Pt.2: Discovering yourself

Warning: Religious worship, bad descriptions.

STC - Skin tone color

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

You didn't know what to say. Too much was going through your mind. Who are the ascended? Why do they refer to you as a god? A million more questions race through your head before a voice calls out to you. "Your Grace?" It was Alexi's voice. "Y-Yes, Alexi?" You respond, unsure of what he asked. "Are you okay? We're not going to hurt you." Alexi says in a rough yet soft tone. A million thoughts go through your mind, unsure of what to say. Do you tell them the truth? Do you lie to them? Do you make up a story? You eventually decide that, due to the ability to transport yourself elsewhere, it was better to admit the truth before you find yourself in a worse position than in Teyvat. "Look, I-I think you got the wrong person. I don't know anything about the "Ascended Species" or me guiding you in person." You say, bracing yourself for a mixture of emotional, psychological, or physical abuse. Alexi looks at you and then smiles, "I'm afraid that's not the case my lord. The soul seeker was set to your soul, and in addition, we're passing through a nebula right now, and usually when we do,we often find ourselves going through what is known as turbulence. And ever since you've arrived, the storm has calmed down." Alexi explains to you. "And it makes sense for you to not know of the Ascended. After all, you're only made aware of the world you'll be descending into, with you starting to get visions of the other worlds you created later on from your past."

You're shocked. How are you supposed to react to that. One day, you're running from hunters in Teyvat who're claiming that you're an imposter, the next, your soul, if what they say is true, is abducted by aliens from various species who're claiming that you made each of their civilizations. But another question came into mind. Are you able to get home? And how many other lives have you abandoned when you descended onto each of their worlds? "Crowner of Champions." The beetle alien says,breaking you out of your existential crisis, getting your attention. "My name is Kul-Tan of the Backatta species, representing the Legion of Hantakka. My people and I pride ourselves in being able to find worthy opponents in all fields, originally in just strength, but your descent into our world showed that there are other ways of combat. And I couldn't help but wonder what great beasts you've slayed at your new creation!" Kul-Tan says, ignorant about what you've been facing on Teyvat. "It's not as glo-" You say before stopping mid sentence as you are looking at your skin.

Instead of the (STC) on your skin, your body's instead a mix of a bright white, a void black, a gleaming gold, and a shimmering purple all jump across your body. "Wha-,ho-, the he- what?" You say, unable to form a word about your body's situation. "And that's another reason we see you as our divine creator." Alexi says, slightly amused at your situation. "The creator, you," Alexi says, as he points at you. "Have been known to be both the kindest of souls, devoting time to help those that need it, both before and after your discovery on each of our worlds, and a nightmare to those incurring your wrath." Alexi continues. "The white and dark energies, I assume, are part of your emotions and part of the balance of the galaxy, what the golden and purplish energies represent, however, may be representative of the balance of the world you descended upon." Alexi says, hoping to help you understand. If you had to guess, the golden energy represented Celestia, and the purple energy represented the abyss. "I wonder," you tell yourself, if I knew about this sooner, would the hunt for me have never occurred?" You ask yourself as you get out of Mary's arms and wander the room while you start to think what this could do. After all, if that was true, then you could reveal this form to the Teyvatians and hopefully convince them that you're their actual god, or at least cause enough debate in Teyvat that the hunt could be cancelled or postponed for a while then- "Your Grace?"

You hear Mary call out your title in a concerned tone. As you turn to face her, you can see a mixture of horror, concern, sadness, and rage on the crew's faces. "What do you mean, the hunt for you would have never occurred if you knew about that form?" Mary asks in a cautious and worried tone.

[celaenaeiln]

Okay, so I've been scouring your blog these past few days, and ughh, it feels so good to find someone who actually seems to understand who Dick is! His eldest daughter complex is something I relate to so much, and was the thing that really drew me in. A lot of people look at the mediation and emotional weight lifting, (and those are huge parts of it, don't get me wrong,) but something else I find very eldest child is the way his own relationship with Bruce has continued to take hits all so Bruce can have better relationships with the others. Like when you're the oldest your parents make so many more mistakes with you. I also can't help but feel like it's got to be so hard as Dick to look at the way Bruce is with Tim/Dami/Cass, and wish that he could have that kind of relationship with his Dad. They want to be jealous of the trust, think he's the golden child, and yet at the same time, he's wishing he had something more resembling the true parent/child relationship the others got. (Idk maybe I'm projecting, but oh lord I go absolutely feral for eldest daughter Dick, it just hurts so good)

og post in reference

Yes! I'm so glad you brought that up!!

In terms of parenting, and why I don't really write about Bruce being a parent to Dick, is because Dick is kinda a guinea pig, as my engineering teacher put it once.

He was the Bruce's first for everything. First friend, first partner, first son - he just took responsibility for all roles. It makes things even worse because Bruce at the time he took in Dick, he had only been Batman for three years. Three. And he was literally drowning under the weight of the mask until he found Dick. There's a reason why Dick is Bruce's is right hand man and that's because Dick's been with him through everything. When Bruce was struggling and almost giving into his obsession, Dick was there to pull him out of it.

He quite literally mothered Bruce through his feelings, asking if everything was okay, what's wrong, watching him constantly and guaging his mood. This is exhausting work because Dick's mind was always on Bruce's mental state, much like a mother worried constantly about her teenage daughter or a father about his son.

That adoption scene where Dick asks Bruce, "why didn't you adopt me?" That's the realization of eldest daughter syndrome brought up.

Up until then, Dick was completely fine with being the caretaker for Bruce and lifting him up. He parented Bruce for so long and so smoothly, neither fully realized how much Dick was doing for him until he left. When Bruce adopts Jason, that's when Dick realizes there's something wrong with their dynamic.

I don't know if at that time Dick really wanted to be adopted or if he felt neglected because that he's wasn't while another was. But one thing he feels isn't jealousy, he's very clear on that, but Dick feels hurt.

Was there something he did wrong that caused Bruce to do that? What he do differently? What could he have done better? These types of questions constantly cloud his brain because he's gotten so used to taken care of his guardian for two decades now that he must feel hurt on some level even if he never expresses. He wouldn't begrudge his siblings because he feels happy Bruce isn't making the same mistakes to them that he did with Dick but at the same time, it's just exhausting for him.

Bruce might have improved but he isn't the best, so now he's busy taking care of both his brothers and sisters and his father. He also has to take care of his friends too.

He has the weight of the world on his shoulders but the worst part for him isn't the actual the weight - it's the realization that he's holding the weight. Because before he could live on in ignorance and bliss that Bruce was always going to be this way, and taking care of him would naturally just be Dick's job. He's so used to it, he's been doing it since he was eight.

But now, he knows what he's doing, he knows he's not supposed to, but he must. Because they rely on him, but also because that's what Bruce made him into. And I think that hurts the most for him.

He'll feel conflicted about it because on one hand, he loves Bruce. He loves him so much, he'll do anything for him. But also what about all those missed opportunities? Could he have been something different? Maybe he could've hung out with the Titans more if he didn't have to deal with bruce constantly demanding his presence. Maybe he could've joined a new class he never thought he would try.

Dick doesn't regret what he did and if he could go back in time, he would do it all over again but...he probably feels melancholic again. To love a parent so much you sacrifice your happiness over and over again so they can be happy while you're forced to grow up early. Dick's personality itself just lends itself to helping others but constantly taking care of your parent?

He's happy but he feels helpless and sad so he stays silent about it all.

It's said that Eldest Daughter Syndrome can make women feel overburdened, stressed out, and constantly responsible for others.

More signs include having a strong sense of responsibility (leading the batfam and hero teams), feeling a need for control (him fighting for his independence against Bruce and fighting to take care of his own teams), carrying the heavy weight of parents' expectations (his entire monologue in Nightwing 1996 about his feelings towards Bruce), perfectionism (Roy grouching about Dick's perfectionist tendencies to Kori in Outsiders and Roy yelling at Batman for it in Batman Plus), struggling with same-age relationships (dating older), and feeling resentment towards family (his outsiders era was him just resenting Bruce in the beginning).

He's been parenting Bruce for so long he was forced to grow up prematurely. I mentioned in my compartmentalization post when Dick's parents have literally just died. And he's forcing himself to act happy because he doesn't want Bruce to feel guilty and upset about not catching their murderer yet. That's not a responsibility a child should have - pretending everything is fine so as not to worry their family. That's the role of a parent. He's taking parenting his own parent because his actual one is incapable of doing so.

But Bruce's greatest fear is that by taking in Dick, he deprived Dick of opportunities to shine. To live in the limelight. And Dick knows everything about Bruce, so he knows Bruce's worst fears. And for this reason, out of the love that he has in his heart, Dick will never tell Bruce if he's hurt him because this is directly connected to his worst fear.

And that hurts. Because vocally releasing anger and sorrow is cathartic but to have it build up silently inside and letting it sink beneath the waves each time is painful.

[aspd-culture]

Hey do you have any advice for what to do when you're angry? Not at anything in particular but your just so mad and not doing anything about it makes your feel like it's being ground into dust. I hope I made sense, I don't know if this is an ASPD thing or not but I figured it's worth a try.

I do, though none of it is super effective without a bit of prep outside of the situation and also knowing your particular experience of this because the anger that has no target can come in a few different forms from what I've noticed.

There's true no cause, where nothing triggered you at all and it comes on seemingly out of nowhere. For me, this is usually a part of a symptom flare, either the peak of it or right at the beginning. Either way, this is usually how I notice it. This usually comes with the impulsive desire to break things/hurt people/similar. For this, I have a post where I've gone into it, but basically you want to have prepared some sort of thing you know will help in this situation because having to do any prep in the moment is going to make it fail. For some people, they can go things like go to a wreck room (place where you can break pay usually not too much to break stuff in a space where you don't have to clean it up) and that will be enough for them. For others, it can't be in a sterile room like that that's *made* to have stuff broken or it isn't the same. In that situation, you'll want an impulsive option that can be organic. Some people own cheap plates purely so they can go in a room and break them and worry about cleaning it up later. For that to work, you either have to live alone or live with someone who knows you have ASPD and are okay with this - or who are just super chill and won't be freaked out. Hear me out - that isn't for their sake. It's for yours. It will make it so much worse if during the thing you're doing to calm yourself, someone makes an issue out of it because now that anger *will* be targeted now - at them. That's not going to help bc now there won't be a safe way to get out the anger anywhere near as easily as if it wasn't targeted.

For that type, the biggest thing is allowing yourself to have symptoms and taking a harm reduction approach vs a total control approach. Total control there will not be easily achievable and you'll probably just p*ss yourself off worse n the process. So if you have things around you're okay with taking out anger on and a safe place to do it, then that's okay as long as it's your own property and no one is getting hurt (including intimidated, again just so that it doesn't escalate). I would avoid much external interaction when it's violent urges specifically bc it will upset you having to put in all that effort not to take it out on them.

Then there's the anger that technically had a cause at some point, but has moved past its cause. So kind of the "it's been a terrible day not because of any one thing but because of the combination of everything" situation? Similar to that anyways. For this, it's gonna be your basic symptom management techniques. Interact with violent media if that calms you down - true crime, the news, violent video games, action movies, horror/thriller movies, etc. along those lines. If that doesn't help you, maybe you have a music playlist that helps you feel good. It'll help to have that prepped too, bc the lull of finding another song will probably suck in that mindset. Something I call parallel distraction is helpful for this - where you're distracting yourself, but not forcing your brain to completely ignore it. You're angry and you let yourself feel that, but give it a direction to go in that's through catharsis rather than taking the actions yourself.

Those are the two I can think of at the moment. I know there's probably more but they are escaping me at the moment. If you/anyone has any explanations of the anger you're feeling/what symptoms and feelings are associated with it, I can probably give advice tailored a bit more to that if I've experienced it.

Any anger without a cause or target can acquire a target realllllyyyy easily because that makes more sense to your brain. The human brain doesn't like feeling something and not knowing why, so if it can make up a reason that is exactly what it will do. Your roommate comes in and tells you to turn the music down? "Ah, well I sure was trying to calm down but now? Now this anger is your fault and I'm not gonna waste energy calming down again when you messed that up for me." Because of that, you ideally really want to find coping mechanisms that you can do without having to cause unwanted interactions. For some people, specific people can help but you want to choose that. In general, in an ASPD anger flare - whether it's from something specific or not - you want to keep as much control over the situation as you can because unexpected things can push you over the edge past coping.

I apologize if this isn't as helpful as usual or there are typos; it's very late here at the moment.

Plain text below the cut:

I do, though none of it is super effective without a bit of prep outside of the situation and also knowing your particular experience of this because the anger that has no target can come in a few different forms from what I've noticed.

There's true no cause, where nothing triggered you at all and it comes on seemingly out of nowhere. For me, this is usually a part of a symptom flare, either the peak of it or right at the beginning. Either way, this is usually how I notice it. This usually comes with the impulsive desire to break things/hurt people/similar. For this, I have a post where I've gone into it, but basically you want to have prepared some sort of thing you know will help in this situation because having to do any prep in the moment is going to make it fail. For some people, they can go things like go to a wreck room (place where you can break pay usually not too much to break stuff in a space where you don't have to clean it up) and that will be enough for them. For others, it can't be in a sterile room like that that's *made* to have stuff broken or it isn't the same. In that situation, you'll want an impulsive option that can be organic. Some people own cheap plates purely so they can go in a room and break them and worry about cleaning it up later. For that to work, you either have to live alone or live with someone who knows you have ASPD and are okay with this - or who are just super chill and won't be freaked out. Hear me out - that isn't for their sake. It's for yours. It will make it so much worse if during the thing you're doing to calm yourself, someone makes an issue out of it because now that anger *will* be targeted now - at them. That's not going to help bc now there won't be a safe way to get out the anger anywhere near as easily as if it wasn't targeted.

For that type, the biggest thing is allowing yourself to have symptoms and taking a harm reduction approach vs a total control approach. Total control there will not be easily achievable and you'll probably just p*ss yourself off worse n the process. So if you have things around you're okay with taking out anger on and a safe place to do it, then that's okay as long as it's your own property and no one is getting hurt (including intimidated, again just so that it doesn't escalate). I would avoid much external interaction when it's violent urges specifically bc it will upset you having to put in all that effort not to take it out on them.

Then there's the anger that technically had a cause at some point, but has moved past its cause. So kind of the "it's been a terrible day not because of any one thing but because of the combination of everything" situation? Similar to that anyways. For this, it's gonna be your basic symptom management techniques. Interact with violent media if that calms you down - true crime, the news, violent video games, action movies, horror/thriller movies, etc. along those lines. If that doesn't help you, maybe you have a music playlist that helps you feel good. It'll help to have that prepped too, bc the lull of finding another song will probably suck in that mindset. Something I call parallel distraction is helpful for this - where you're distracting yourself, but not forcing your brain to completely ignore it. You're angry and you let yourself feel that, but give it a direction to go in that's through catharsis rather than taking the actions yourself.

Those are the two I can think of at the moment. I know there's probably more but they are escaping me at the moment. If you/anyone has any explanations of the anger you're feeling/what symptoms and feelings are associated with it, I can probably give advice tailored a bit more to that if I've experienced it.

Any anger without a cause or target can acquire a target realllllyyyy easily because that makes more sense to your brain. The human brain doesn't like feeling something and not knowing why, so if it can make up a reason that is exactly what it will do. Your roommate comes in and tells you to turn the music down? "Ah, well I sure was trying to calm down but now? Now this anger is your fault and I'm not gonna waste energy calming down again when you messed that up for me." Because of that, you ideally really want to find coping mechanisms that you can do without having to cause unwanted interactions. For some people, specific people can help but you want to choose that. In general, in an ASPD anger flare - whether it's from something specific or not - you want to keep as much control over the situation as you can because unexpected things can push you over the edge past coping.

I apologize if this isn't as helpful as usual or there are typos; it's very late here at the moment.

[andromeda3116]

This chapter was hard for me to write. At first, I was too anxious about the upcoming election, and then it actually happened and I was too devastated to consider writing fanfiction. But then I stopped and thought about it, about the role of fiction in helping us -- both writer and reader -- process emotion, about how it teaches us how to get into the head of another person, about how cathartic it can be, how hopeful. And then I received a review where the person mentioned how important this story -- this Katara -- is to them, particularly after the election, how it lifted their spirits to see her being independent and strong and fearless.

All of this led me to restart this chapter and take it in a slightly different direction than I had planned, to delve into a lot of the things I'm feeling and I've heard from others about what they're feeling. I have, here, established a politician-Katara who stands for all that we lost on Tuesday, and who -- if she were real and living in America now -- would never for a second consider giving up. She would stand and fight and never be silenced.

And so I want to say -- if you're afraid right now, if you're hurting, if you're worried about the future, you are not alone. Don't give up hope, and don't lose faith. Not in yourself, and not in other other people. It seems insurmountable, it feels like things are going in an awful direction, and I'm not going to pretend that it's all magically going to be okay. But I am going to promise that you aren't alone. However alone you feel, however silenced, however afraid -- you are not alone.

Let us come together, let us take Katara's words to heart, and never, ever turn our backs on people who need us. We need each other now more than ever. Stand together, hang in there, and hold on. It isn't okay now, but we will make it be okay in the future. Just hold on.

If you ever need someone to talk to, send me a message. I can't promise that I'll have answers, but I will have a listening ear and a shoulder to cry on. And never, ever, ever, ever forget, I cannot stress this enough: you are not alone.

I wrote these words eight years ago. I was 25, reeling, heartbroken, overwhelmed. And terrified, of course, I was so, so scared.

Now, eight years later, at 33, facing the same darkness - and yet worse, of course, we all know it's worse - what I remember most clearly about those four years is the bone-crushing exhaustion. It's so draining, and of course that's how they want you to be: drained out and slumped down like a broken toy. It's overwhelming, they bombard you, and you feel like everyday you're trying to swim against the rising tide, and...

Well, the unfortunate fact that we have to face is that the tide is rising. Like Chuck Tingle said, we have to face the fact that there is a rightward cultural shift that we are looking at, and it's... Well, it's heartbreaking, isn't it? And stunning. To realize that this isn't the world we thought it was. These aren't the people we thought we knew. We thought everyone had seen how awful this man was, how dangerous. We begged them to see, to hear us. And... it wasn't enough.

But I wrote other words, too: “None of this is going to go away overnight. You can’t make a hundred years of propaganda vanish in five. We’ll be fighting this for the rest of our lives, that’s how it’s going to be. But the only way to make it ever get better is by standing our ground and fighting it and never giving up.”

This week is for grief. For shock. For horror and screaming despair. Don't suppress or ignore those feelings - they are real and they are powerful and they will shatter the chains you try to contain them with. Let yourself feel them.

And then next week, we get to work. Okay? We spit out the blood in our mouths and we rub the tears off our faces, and we get ready. We've got two months to prepare, and so now we prepare. We can't stop this tide from rising, but we can fortify our homes and build shelters and hunker down for the long haul. And one day, we'll be able to get to higher ground and leave this sea of hatred behind us.

But only if we stand firm now and don't let them swallow us whole. Sometimes you don't measure time by good or bad, but as the last bastard standing. One day, this will be over and what we have built will be standing and they will not.

I spoke with fear eight years ago, with desperate hope and hands outstretched to hug and comfort - now I speak with a scream of rage and grief, and hands outstretched to drag each other out of the dark water. I thought we'd gotten past this. I thought we were beyond this. I thought we'd learned.

But here we are. And here we make our stand. And because we are making our stand here and because we are building our foundations where we stand, this will not be our final one.

Even the longest, darkest night ends with the dawn.

So hold my hand and I'll hold yours. And we'll get through this.