#tw: mentions of an unhealthy family dynamic.

[mad-hunts]

so, tonight, i will talking about barton's mental health once more because i was thinking about dexter (as in the show) and how one of the characters in it who's name is doakes + this is because for a while... he was the ONLY person in the show who was able to recognize there was something a bit 'off' for lack of better words with dexter himself. and i'm bringing this up in particular because i like how the show itself points out how, because doakes's character was a killer himself, that he was able to kind of see past the facade that dexter put on. and/or sense that they were similar in that they both had this sense of darkness inside themselves.

which brings me to talking about how, as i have done some research on it (though this still doesn't make me an expert on it OFC! i'm just trying to do my due diligence to get everything as accurate as i could while using the internet as a resource), it kind of depends on other's having similar traits to him for barton to be able to recognize when other people are 'like him' - and also for him to get to know them at some capacity, especially because some people's way of 'masking' is very different from barton's. BUT barton is not particularly in the business of labeling anyone as a sociopath because he doesn't think of himself in those kind of terms either, really.

though anyhow, like i was saying, barton can see when someone is like him through them possessing traits like a lack of morals, callousness, 'predatory' behavior (or the act of trying to exploit other's for their own gain to put it simply), etcetera. and when someone acts this way towards his friends, family, or dare i say his partner then barton absolutely has the tendency to become protective over these people in his 'inner circle.' like, he will make his dislike towards them known one way or another because hey...

barton's logic here is that someone can mess with him all they want, but whenever it comes to the people he cares about in his own... barton-like way (LOL) then he will not put up with that at all. barton will be glaring at them hard-core during any interaction they have, distinctly when they're clearly trying to prey on a member of his 'inner circle' in one way or another. he will also threaten them through not-so-subtle ways. and if it comes down to it, let me just say that barton has a history of violence + a rap sheet a mile long so that may or may not have something to do with what his next cours eof action would be if they don't back off.

so, basically, what i'm trying to say is that people with NPD (narcissistic personality disorder) or ASPD like barton or just possess these traits definitely do not get off scott-free just BC they may be alike. and i thought this was kind of interesting because i know that i have talked about how barton doesn't even know how his mind works himself half-the-time before, BUT. him displaying this behaviors while he's still all those other things does say something to me; and that is that its quite possible that barton really does mean it when he says things like he doesn't want to be like his father, wesley.

because do you know what his bio father would've done in a situation where someone with the same kind of behaviors as him was threatening their family? stopping them from continuing would've been more of a matter of keeping up this 'image' for himself that he cares about barton. but barton actually does this because he genuinely doesn't want these people he's built relationships with to get hurt, and yeah, that doesn't make him automatically a good person. because he isn't one. though in some ways, i'd like to say he's put a halt to the generational trauma in the mathis family.

[marzerao3]

Falsettober/Whumptober 2024 (Day 3)

@lycheelsea

[seeingivy]

dream girl (ongoing) ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

actor!ryomen sukuna x singer-songwriter!y/n

up and coming actor ryomen sukuna is one week away from the most important week of his career, on the heels of his big break as an actor in the new television show, jujutsu kaisen. dumping his pop star girlfriend at the wrong time has started a vicious online campaign against him. however, the problem is easily counteracted with a simple solution - fake dating said pop girlfriend's biggest rival.

content: actor!sukuna, singer-songwriter y/n, lots of taylor/olivia/sabrina carpenter songs, celebrity drama, smau, second chance romance, fluff, ANGST, lots of pictures of olivia rodrigo, found family, imposter syndrome

tw: mentions of unhealthy manager/work relationships, grooming, eating disorders, body image, complicated family dynamics, second chance romance, homophobia,

read on ao3

the dream girl playlist

bad blood

girl i've always been

espresso

sweetener

juno

skinny

everything has changed

slut

forever winter

stardust

you're on your own kid

like real people do

daylight

frances

about you

canyon moon

jealous

satellite

invisible string

please comment on this post or any of the other individual ones to be added to the taglist!

[yandere-daydreams]

ROYALTY AU??? WITH SUKUNA AND GOJO?? DON'T BE SHY SPILL THE DETAILS

tw - implied non/con, mentions of war + death, wrongful imprisonment, and wildly unhealthy relationship dynamics.

my dude those WERE the details!!! sukuna and gojo aren't really characters i think about together often, but if i must put them into a little scenario, it's going to be satur, the stolen prince you've been sent to bargain for, sitting strewn across sukuna's lap, covered in day-old blood and requesting so prettily to keep you - the last thing he has left from a childhood he's resolved to burn to the ground (not totally dissimilar to how the religious elders of his kingdom might've burnt a mutual friend the two of you might've once shared on a pyre on charges of supposed witchcraft). sukuna, the ever-pragmatic war lord that is, is divided. he kept satoru because he was strong and eye-catching and willing to fight, you don't seem very strong, and you're only a step above plain, and your voice started shaking the moment you stepped into his war hall. it's purely as a favor to satoru that he doesn't have your throat slit and your head sent back to the royal family who sent you, but he doesn't keep you, either. he doesn't want satoru so distracted.

it's only as the kingdom he was supposed to inherit burns to the ground, his former castle overrun with sukuna's monstrous army, that satoru gets to claim his prize. sukuna accompanies him to the tower where you're being kept (imprisoned after your failure to return with satoru, predictably, as if those filthy tyrants could treat anyone with so much as an ounce of humanity), lingers in the doorway while satoru takes advantage of your chains, your isolation, your shared desperation to latch onto the only familiar faces either of you have left. you're still not very strong, but you are a great deal more endearing with tears streaming down your cheeks, with bruises encircling your wrists and neck - so wrought with devastation that you don't even seem to notice how deeply satoru's teeth burrow into your collarbone.

satoru deserves a pet. he's earned that much, if not more, and it would be wrong of sukuna to deny him one.

but, by the same logic, hasn't he earned an excuse to indulge himself, too?

[bizbat]

Kill for Her - Jason Todd x Reader - 1

🕸️Spiderverse Masterlist🕸️

🐼JJK Masterlist🐼

~ Fem terms used for reader.

~ Mild smut alluded to but nothing explicit.

~ Reader's appearance is not described.

~ Parts one, two, three, and four, as well as my other works, can be found here!

~ Also please lmk how i can improve the masterlist if you do end up checking out my other works!!! (:

~ Thank you so, so much for everyone who requested more crazy jason! ILLYYYY (p.s. thank you for being so patient with this, ik it took forever omg)

~ Wc: 1.4k

~ Tw: (Very) Unhealthy Relationship Dynamics and All that Comes with it, Mentions of Having Children, Jason Todd is Not a Good Person in this, Pet Names, Nausea, Angst, Blood and Violence, Variety in Themes, Cringe maybe (lmk)

"Break up?" You think you can just "break up" with Jason Peter "I've never been in a real relationship bc I died as a teenager and I have serious deep running abandonment issues stemming from my more than troubled childhood" Todd?

Funny.

Real funny.

But yk what he doesn't think he really likes that joke and maybe you should actually never tell it again, okay? ((:

It doesn't matter what way you try to approach the subject. Kind, playing into his delusions about being a real couple? You're overthinking things, but that's fine, he loves you anyways.

Yelling, crying, screaming for him to get the fuck out of your home and go die? You're probably just being dramatic, but that's okay, you're sassy, he's sassy, match made in heaven!

The man is kookoo. He genuinely believes that you're destined to get married to each other and either have or adopt a ton of children and he's gonna be the best dad ever and you'll be a wonderful mom ever and blah blah blah blah.

And I've barely scratched the surface of all his crazy, it runs deep.

~ Drabble Starts Here. ~

He'd kill for you. Without a doubt.

He's always figured, somewhere in the back of his mind, that he might have to go back on his word to Bruce for your sake, that he might have to further stain his own soul and hands to keep yours clean, to protect you, to protect your relationship. It's not something he's too particularly worried about, to him, you might as well be the only living person on the planet anyways. Don't get him wrong, he loves his family, to the moon and back and more (don't tell them that), but if there were two people left on the planet, and one of them was you, and the other was him, he thinks the world might finally be fair. That life might finally be kind to him.

And with reasoning like that, whispered into your hair at night when he thinks you're asleep, how could you be so cruel as to break his heart? How could you when he begs, begs you not to see how evil he thinks he is at night when he's been up too late and his brain starts to tell him cruel things about himself? When he brings you a gift every time he sees you. Granted, they're stolen, and granted, he broke into your home. But they're exemplary of his devotion to you nonetheless. Or at least that's how you see it, that's how you see him.

It's true, Jason has lived a life more than deserving of pity, of kindness and support. That's part of why you feel nauseous right now, your hands, slightly clammy, nervously wring the hem of the shirt you're wearing. It's big on you, hanging down past your thighs. You can't remember if it's his or yours. Your tongue feels too big in your mouth, and your knee is bouncing so much you're sure the muscles in your calf are well defined by now.

The reason you feel so ill as you wait for him at 12:48 AM, your eyes flicking back and forth between the clock on your phone and your TV currently playing reruns, is because tonight is the end of it. The end of Jason breaking into your apartment with a spare key he had made without your knowledge, or your window when you switch your lock for the umpteenth time. The end of you waking up next to him in your bed when you know he wasn't there when you went to sleep. The end of his overly personal nicknames that allude to a relationship you've told him time and time again that you Do. Not. Have.

Tonight you're "breaking up with" Jason Todd. If you weren't on edge you might laugh at the thought. You and Jason have (at least in your adamant opinion) never agreed to date. He never asked you out, he just started, well, acting the way he acts; breaking into your home, stealing random articles of clothing that he has a particular interest in, acting like your boyfriend. But it's been months. You're tired.

"Jason!" You say, surprised at his sudden appearance. You guess you got too caught up in your thoughts. He smells like metal. You're worried about what he might've been getting up to, but that's not your main focus at the moment.

He hears your voice sing his name as he walks into your shared apartment, through the door this time. He knows how much you hate it when he comes in through the window. He's happy to see you, albeit a little surprised, you're usually asleep by this time. You must've stayed up for him, a smile rises to his lips at the thought. "Hiya doll, what're you doing up so late?" He's clearly exhausted, even though he's turning in relatively early, it now being 1:29, he's already had a long, long night. A long, painful, violent night.

All he wants right now is to lay beside you, to rest his head on your chest and hear your heartbeat. It's his second favorite sound in the world. The first being those gorgeous noises you make when he's got his head between your thighs and your fingers in his hair-

He's pulled from his thoughts at the sight of your lip tucked between your teeth, the worry on your face more than evident. His smile drops as he hangs up his signature leather jacket on the coat rack beside the door, and slowly makes his way over to you. "You okay, doll? What's wrong?" He asks you with such sincerity, like he really does care. And the worst part is you know he does.

"We . . . we need to talk, Jason." He can hear how nervous you are just by the way your voice quivers as you address him. It always makes his heart hurt when he hears that. You avert your gaze, unable to look at him at this moment. You breathe deeply, trying to calm your heart and quell the bile fighting to come out. You need to do this, and you need to do it now. "I . . ." You barely manage to warble out, clenching your jaw before bracing yourself. "I want to break up with you Jason." You say after taking a deep breath through your nose.

This is it, you did it. You can feel the saline tears rising to your waterline, but you aren't sad at all. You swallow the massive lump in your throat as you wait for his response, your hands furiously gripping your shirt, an unreadable expression on his face. He just . . . stares for a moment. He doesn't blink, he doesn't frown, he doesn't start sobbing, fall to his knees, beg you to change your mind.

He doesn't do anything. The longer his stillness goes on, the more and more your confidence deteriorates. Your shoulders drop from their tense state, your lip quivers, and your ears ring from how dead silent the room seems to be. "Jason . . ." He's barely blinking, his head slightly cocked, his hands limply dangling at his sides. "I said," You clear your throat, not favoring how weak you sound. "I said I want to break up with you. I don't want to date you anymore." You know he heard you, but you repeat yourself nonetheless.

The longer the two of you sit in silence, the harder it is to stomach it. Your hands shake as they grip your shirt, the fabric wrinkles in your tight grasp, your chest feels like all of your ribs have turned into snakes and started squeezing and constricting around your pounding heart. His eyes pierce your soul, the usually deep pits now shallow and glassy. Eventually, the second that he sees a single drop of water fall down your cheek he seems to snap out of it.

The life, the color returns to his face and eyes, as if he was just woken out of a deep trance at the mere sight of your tears. Then, perhaps most disturbingly, he laughs. A cold, icy chuckle that slides off his vocal cords and freezes the room. It sounds almost plastic, rehearsed, like he's practiced it in the mirror hundreds of times in preparation for moments like this. "That . . ." he wheezes between bouts of fake laughter. "That was really funny, babe, you almost had me there."

Jason runs a hand through his hair, disguising the act as if he's trying to gather himself when really, he's resisting the urge to grip on the strands of inky black until they rip from his scalp. He's still pretending to collect himself as he slips past your form, still standing almost perfectly still, into your room. You don't even remember the rest of the night. You don't remember what either of you said, what either of you did, all you remember is following him into the room, being coaxed into bed, and resting your swirling head on his chest as his arms wrapped so, so tightly around your shoulders.

Jason doesn't sleep well that night, even with you safely tucked into his arms. It was a joke, it was a joke, it was a joke. That's what he tells himself. Over and over in his head, bouncing off the walls of his skull; it was a joke, it was a joke, it was a joke. It must be, it has to be. His sweet Y/n, who knows what he's been through, who knows he's never had anything, and anything he has ever had was ripped from his hands, his Y/n would never be so cruel.

She'd never leave him. He couldn't let her. Not when he'd die for her, not when he'd kill for her.

[dark-type-appreciator]

Intro post! :3

Hello! Like my description says, I'm Liam! I'm 16 and I found this website a while back and decided to finally make an account!!! I really like dark type pokemon (bet you could guess that XD), and I'm always open to talk about them! I also really like other catmons ^w^ curse of being a warrior skitties fan I guess...

I also like drawing, warrior skitties, and roleplaying! I have other interests but those are my main ones! I play games sometimes, but I'm not very good at them x_x

I'm not really a pokemon trainer… I only have one pokemon haha! His name is Goldie, and he's a purrloin! He's kind of a cranky old man but he loves me!

umm, what else? I get confused sometimes, please be patient, I'm autistic (and other things). Same goes the other way around!! If u need me to rephrase something, please tell me! Also i misspell things a lot, auto correct is my best friend. Hopefully its not too bad!

Oh! Also I am a furry! :3 I almost forgot to mention that asjhdjahs

Here's my pokesona!

not the best reference, it's kinda old... Maybe I'll redo it someday!

Also- if we're friends, pls tag any bug types!… I have a really bad phobia of them, and I don't wanna see them at all. Thank you!!!

also- look look look!!

They're friends.. :3

[OOC under the cut]

Actias (@act11as) back at it again... Oh boy! OOC posts will be tagged as #ooc and #moth's yapping to avoid confusion.

All triggering content will be tagged as "#[word] tw" for better blacklisting. Please contact me if I miss something or you need something tagged.

‼ This blog will have heavy themes! including mental illness, gaslighting, (witnessed) domestic abuse, emotional abuse, child neglect, Past physical abuse, and generally dysfunctional and unhealthy family and friend dynamics ‼ [This blog is heavily connected to @sound-type-advocate, highly recommend following if you want the full story.]

Boundaries

Self-insert Fallers, do not interact. There is a certain level of unreality I can handle and self-insert fallers cross that threshold. I will block over this, be warned. Everyone else is fine to interact!

NSFW COMMENTS WILL NOT BE TOLERATED. Mod is a minor, even if muse is an adult!

IN CHARACTER anon hate is okay! I have the right to not answer anything, and if you're ever unsure, feel free to ask.

Extra:

Pelipper Mail, un-mail, and Malice are off currently! You may be able to convince him to turn it on!

Mystery Gifts are closed! Though if this and Pelipper mail were to open, this one is preferred!

Musharna mail, and Musharna malice are always on! Magic anons are off.

Organizational Tags!

Liam Chatters - General post tag! As long as he's saying something in the text portion, it'll be tagged. Reblog! ^w^ - Reblog tag. Pretty self explanatory Future Sight (queue) - Queued posts tag! Again pretty self explanatory. Liam used Doodle! - Art tag! Liam's art will be tagged as this, for those who want to see it. Foresight - Out of character tag. It marks posts that will potentially be important in the future. This can range from his opinions on things to heavy lore posts! Good tag to read through if you think you're missing something!

Friend Tags! (Tags for friends!)

#Tari mention - tag for Tari from @/pokemoncryptids #faith is friending - tag for Faith from @/faithispokemoning #rare sprig appearance - Tag for Sprig... Who does not have a public account! they're Liam's friend however.

ONGOING ARCS:

Nothing named!

PAST ARCS/EVENTS:

#Lucy Strikes! - One of Liam's friends stole his phone while they were supposed to be visiting. General warnings for bullying. #Mask Off Arc - Shorter arc involving the aftermath of the previous event. Liam started to open up a little more, and hey! Mask reveal! (subject to be renamed, could be used for something more important currently)

Blocklist:

These are blogs Liam has blocked in-character! usually for lore reasons! these are not blogs that have personally been blocked, feel free to interact on anon if you're on this list!

@/tinkatinktrain

@/sound-type-advocate

[mothymayhem]

leans politely into ur inbox. yap about ur aus and lunars? 👀

Xero,,, Xero my savior /silly

OK! Heads up guys!! gonna be a big ol yap sesh! I kinda just wanna cover my aus, its sums and neat things that went into them! I should also state that most, if not all my AUs have been made in collaboration with @radio-atlas !! And most these AUs have been fleshed out alongside aem through hours of VC yapping and RPs!! So if you'd like to know more indepth stuff about these AUs Eclipse's! I'd say you ask aem! (I'm the Lunar expert/writer!)

And obvi if anyone has any specific questions on any specific AU feel free to ask

On that note! Let's begin!

= "Wonderland" AU =

aka, My evil Lunar AU! Despite it's title, it has nothing to do with the story of Alice in Wonderland! Rather i've just drawn a lot of inspiration from the animated movie for Designs and Setting! It also is more inspired by canon evil lunar/lunara! Granted it has since spiralled off from it! Here are some important things to note!

Eclipse, instead of leaving the room in "Eclipse and Lunar MANHUNT for Monty Gator in VRCHAT" to grab a weapon, attacks Lunar. This obviously plants a large seed of doubt for xem,, aswell as a small resentment for Monty

Lunar teams up alongside Monty and Moon to get rid of Eclipse, while also using Monty to get Bloodmoon a body!

Bloodmoon and Lunar dynamic! They're brothers and they have eachothers back! They also probably encourage the worst parts of one another!

Lunar plays the long game when it comes to the star! Taking the time to bond with the celestial family and wiggle his way into it! It's not hard as there is that shared ground of hating Eclipse, and overall Eclipse's treatment of Lunar! Though in the end, Lunar has some pretty severe trust and attachment issues, leaving Bloodmoon as the only people Lunar truly cares about

Post obtaining the star, Lunar and Bloodmoon sort of warp the world to their our destructive and whimsical image! Constant Blood, gore and fun! It doesn't last very long though. Especially when the ones running it are three unstable and bloodthirsty animatronics

Post star is where most the theming draws from Alice in Wonderland! The world around them shaping into that of a wonderland!

Overall, Lunar ends up the last remaining being of his world/dimension, eventually ending up hopping into another dimension, which ties to another Au (That i'm not sure i'll mention)

Wonderland Lunar so far is the only one to have a design at this given moment!:

(Granted the art is kind of old!)

and even though i'm not covering the AU for post-dimension hop here, I slide over the concept of him after "domestication", as Atlas and I have been referring to his redemption

I'mma be honest, Wonderland Lunar is probably one of my favorites of my little collection! Stinky little bastard that became the person he hated most.

= Wolf in Sheep's Clothing AU =

Biiig TW for abuse, torture and unhealthy dynamics! Definitely one of Atlas and I's darker AUs!

In sum, the cast take on much more animalistic traits and behaviourisms! I've covered the exacts in This post from a bit ago!

Most stays pretty similar to canon up until "Eclipse and Lunar REUNITE in VRCHAT", to which, Lunar is tortured to death opposed to being blown up.

Unfortunately the worst part about this AU is that Eclipse does care about Lunar, and deals out this cruelty as a form of "leveling the playing field", almost like a sick lesson on Lunar's betrayal.

After this Lunar is brought to the space station to be rebuilt/brought back after extensive damage done, to where Lunar still obtains this star power.

Admittedly this AU has no happier endings. For awhile Lunar gets some peace after his return but it doesn't last long and overall ends with Eclipse taking Lunar and manipulating him to be his personal weapon. But moving along!

It's also interesting to note that Eclipse wears Lunar's horns, from his death, in his collar!

And as the design notes state on Lamb Lunar's ref, Earth sews the ears into his hood! It's originally to match spigot! (ending on a less aawful note!)

As for designs! My lamb Lunar might be one of my more known, outside my moth Lunar!,,

Eclipse also has a design which can be found here! The rest are in conceptual phases!

= Team Dark AU =

The brothers trauma bond!! This is the best sum of this AU! The main concept is Lunar, Eclipse and Bloodmoon are all forced to play KC's idea of house in the bunker. And while I love dadcode! I also love when KC is evil and a not so great father! So the Eclipse brothers all have the lovely opportunity to set aside differences and previous greviances to work together and escape!

Bloodmoon, Lunar and Eclipse are all quite protective of eachother in this AU. The brothers initially having a distrust towards everyone around them after their escape!

With Eclipse stuck within the lab, and being watched more thoroughly on what he did and created, he taught Lunar mechanics and technology to assist! So Lunar gets a few nifty skills to which leads to an interest in creating weaponry for himself and his brothers.

We have a "Bad end" to this AU in which Lunar dies. In this "Bad end" is where Wonderland!Lunar dimension hops to.

Post-escape, the four reside under the theatre within the daycare and basically travel as a pack of sorts. As time carries on the brothers become less codependent,,, but they still don't enjoy being apart extended periods of time.

Shifting back to weaponry! Lunar crafts himself a bazooka! Putting himself in a much longer range, and something to hit heavy. Lunar however cannot take a hit! Making him somewhat of a glass canon!

Bloodmoon gets a scythe, I know, very original. Though I find it makes their kills more personal and up close! The weapon really only working as an extension of themselves!

Eclipse gets a revolver! I haven't pried too much on why with Atlas, and if i have, I admit i've just got shitty memory but it feels very distant and less personal. Also cowboy vibes!

I'll admit that a majority of the AU is brotherly shenanigans with angst! And that I do not have any designs or art to share of the AU! Although the concepts are sat neatly in my medibang waiting for a chance of life!

= "Back-up Lunar" AU =

Last one!!! Eclipse and Lunar end up in the awful situation of sharing a body after their respective deaths! Which, starts off as well as one would think with Lunar and Eclipse inhabiting a body. Though after an incident with the two fighting to front t onec, their AI temporarily merges to create an awful amalgam of the two. After this, the two seem to come to an accepting tolerance to further explore the incident, also leaving room for the two to work through some shit together!

Abyss initially is more akin to a feral and hurt beast, A mass of hatred between the brothers that is unstable. As Lunar and Eclipse form Abyss more it stablizes itself

Because Lunar still blows up in this, he has star power! Which naturally carries to Eclipse and Abyss! I'm also keeping his nanites cause I love shapeshifting and it makes giving Eclipse a design easier!

Main plot follows a failed separation from Moon that does more harm to Lunar than good, causing a strain on the two

Moon gets more desparate to get rid of Eclipse that it becomes almost obsessive. This spirals to Lunar leaving and betrayal

It's also important to note that through most this AU, Abyss is formed and acts almost as a protector of the two. Abyss also develops more to be it's own person, similar to, in lack of a better comparison, fusion from steven universe

Eclipse and Lunar can't 100% remember everything that happens when they're Abyss, it's fuzzier and almost detached from them individually. Which is where the joke comes in that Abyss enjoys theatre and sewing, While Eclipse and Lunar do not

Momentarily! Abyss teams with Ruin and Bloodmoon! Who also gets a redemption alongside the amalgam!

Another AU that has more Sillies with angst!

And I'm sure most have seen me post my baby a couple of times! But Atlas and I's precious Abyss!! :

As for Lunar and Eclipse? Lunar just has my default Lunar design which you can see here and I'm not 100% on Eclipse's just yet!

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

Now obviously! These aren't all the Aus i've created or the whole stories but the main building blocks! Alot of these get worked on, added onto and played out overtime with Atlas! Though i'd honestly love more questions about any of em! and even the other characters of the AU if anyone is interested! It can be a bit hard to yap without a direction but!! AU DUMP!!!

Some of this is also written at like 2am and the rest after work and a nap, so i'm apologizing if this makes no sense or isn't as organized as I thought! ^^

[saltymongoose]

Hey! I really like your headcanons and I wanted to send you send! Yandere Hank and Sheriff's older sister/brother Reader,who has a tough temper with everyone except his brother I would like to see how you implement this idea, and I apologize in advance for mistakes, English is not my native language.

Hello Anon, I really enjoyed this request, so thank you for sending it in. I hope you enjoy these (along with the rest of y'all of course). Your English is also really good, so don't worry! :) <3

The Start of an Extremely Unconventional "Relationship"

(SUM: Hank falls for Sheriff's Older Sibling who wants less than nothing to do with him.)

[TW: Yandere, Obsessive Behavior, Violence, Mentions of Blood and Injuries, Major Character Death (It's Hank, so nbd), Unhealthy Relationship Dynamics, the Reader is extremely tired.]

▬ׅ▭ׂ▬ׅ▭ׂ▬ׅ▭ׂ▬ׅ▭ׂ▬ׅ▭ׂ▬ׅ▭ׂ▬ׅ▭ׂ▬ׅ▭ׂ▬ׅ▭ׂ▬ׅ▭ׂ▬ׅ▭ׂ▬ׅ▭ׂ▬ׅ▭ׂ▬ׅ▭ׂ▬ׅ

When you were both growing up together, you’d always acted as another sort of guardian for Sheriff. It was only natural that you did so, as his oldest sibling and the first he could turn to whenever he got himself into trouble. Which happened a lot.

Whenever Sheriff got into a fight with his bullies or messed with someone he really shouldn’t have, you were the one he ran to when he realized he wasn’t a match for them. You couldn’t name the number of times you had to break someone’s nose or threaten them on his behalf.

However, even if you scolded Sheriff afterward for getting into all of the messes he did, you were happy to help him take care of them. It was just part of your responsibility to do so in your perspective, as his eldest sibling.

Plus, it’s not like it impacted your reputation that much to get into fights so often. People were kind of put off by your cold persona anyway, and you really couldn’t care less if they thought worse about you because you protected your family. (It’s not like anyone would fault you for having a soft spot for your troublemaker of a brother, but it did make how harsh you were to everyone else in school more jarring. Or was it the other way around?)

That’s not all either, since it’s not like Sheriff’s issues started and ended in physical fights.

You wouldn’t say that Sheriff was stupid - in fact, you’d argue vehemently that he was a very intelligent young man. But he was also the sort of person who had more “horse sense” than book smarts; intellectual in the way of the real world rather than the theoretical and strictly mathematical. Luckily, you had more than enough sense of both, so tutoring him was also one of your numerous tasks when your parents didn’t have time to.

Needless to say, Sheriff really admired you for how much you knew, and deeply appreciated you for what you did for him. Not only did you help him through his school, but you also protected him and even taught him to shoot when you figured he was old enough to handle a gun.

While you eased off on helping him so he could grow independent as you both got older, he still longed to make you proud - to prove to you (and himself) that the effort you and your parents put into raising him was worth it. This was one of the reasons he sought a lofty job in law enforcement, since he figured that type of authority would suit him and make him live up to these ideals you instilled in him.

However, he really reconsidered his choice of career when it brought you to the person he’d considered his nemesis, and the very same grunt who’d murdered him in cold blood: Hank J. Wimbleton.

Your first meeting with the mercenary was violent, but neither of you would’ve expected anything less. For Hank, it was a routine task of tracking down the Sheriff and trying to get rid of him. Or maybe he was just feeling particularly vengeful that day, you didn’t really know.

What you did know was that Hank’s first gaze upon you was short-lived but weirdly stifling. If anything, it was difficult to illustrate how oddly frozen he became when your furious glare met the red lenses of his goggles. It’s almost like seeing you was enough to force him to just stand there in the doorway as you blocked him from getting to your brother (who himself was tugging on your arm to try to get you to flee with him). 

He had his weapons out but he wasn’t actually doing anything with them, simply looking straight at you. Your dark leer didn’t earn any reactions, but the fact that you couldn’t make out anything about what the mercenary was feeling was very disconcerting. You were used to his violent side after hearing about it from your brother, so the absence of it was almost unwelcome.

For those few seconds, you felt an unsettling amount of dread.

In actuality though, Hank had been staring at you not just because you were an obstacle in his way, but because you were just so pretty he didn’t know what else to do.

It goes without saying at this point that he wasn’t someone who usually cared for physical appearances, but for some reason, you just struck him as someone that had to be admired, even by him. (No, especially by him, as he’d come to surmise.)

Maybe it was the controlled hate you clearly held for him within your eyes or the way your plush lips curled in a show of silent contempt. It could’ve even been the way you seemed so sure of yourself and your capabilities when you quickly aimed your shotgun right at him. He couldn’t pin down why you suddenly interested him so much, but that hardly mattered. Nothing seemed to now, except for satisfying this curiosity, no, want for more tantalizing reactions from you.

If you seemed so aggressive now, he wondered how violent you could really get. Perhaps you'd end up like him?

You were obviously more concerned about the safety of the Sheriff than you were afraid of him, which only made you more eye-catching. Breathtaking, even. Though you didn’t exactly give Hank much time to admire you.

Even if you’d been Sheriff’s role model, you truly weren’t anything like him; you preferred to take care of these sorts of issues as soon as they arose. Which in this case, meant taking advantage of Hank’s frozen state to fill his torso with buckshot until you knew he wouldn’t be moving again. 

You’re not sure if it’s because he let you or because you just got lucky betting on his incompetence this time, but you had killed him. That much you know for sure. However, because this is Hank, you taking his life wouldn’t be the end of it - it couldn’t be. Not when he was already so smitten with you at first glance.

(Neither you nor Sheriff thought that the event would be so impactful in the long run. Your brother was horrified of course, and panicked to you for days on end about how this would put you on Hank’s “list” as another loose end to tie up. You couldn’t help but laugh when he said that, which’d make him even more indignant and even pushy about it. You honestly couldn’t believe that Hank would have much of an interest in you, even after you managed to kill him. At most, you thought that he might make you into “collateral damage” if you were there when he attacked your brother again, but that wasn’t anything special.)

The thing is, the Sheriff was actually right. Just not in the way he thought, no, if anything the result was far, far worse than he could have predicted.

Hank was an unwelcome constant in your life after that. The bloody first meeting was replicated many times for months on end, as he deliberately sought you out for reasons unknown to you. You’d have agreed with Sheriff’s assessment of you being some problem for Hank to be rid of - perhaps even a new target by the S.Q. considering you might be a threat now. Unfortunately, that idea was defeated by the simple fact that Hank never took the first shot.

He’d simply barge (or break) into wherever you were, no matter what you were doing, and stare at you until you made the first move. It was genuinely bewildering, not only because you still didn’t know why the hell he bothered, but also because he didn’t massacre anyone else who was in the immediate vicinity of you. He just seemed satisfied being in your presence, even shaking excitedly whenever he saw your brooding form walk by. You really didn’t get it.

If you were in a good mood you’d just try to ignore him, but busying yourself with your job or simply pretending he wasn’t there could only work for so long. He just craved your attention for some reason; even if it led to blood being spilled, so long as he has some form of a reaction from you, he’s pleased with himself.

So he put himself in your way and disrupted you, mostly in a physical fashion. Seeing your expression twitch from that coldness you give everyone else filled him with an unfamiliar satisfaction, and the dark anger when he’s provoked you enough to deal with him was even better.

It felt good to be treated differently from everyone else this way, since he knows most of your workers are too inept to take the aggression that you’re capable of. Plus, to his absolute delight, you weren’t difficult for him to tick off. He knew you’d leap at the opportunity to put an end to your brother’s murderer. (Something he knew from Doc’s info about you, of course. For once the grunt was good for something other than giving him work and keeping him alive. Now if only he could get him to stop asking about you.)

Though, perhaps if you knew how much Hank truly reveled in feeling the true extent of your hatred towards him though, you would’ve made the decision not to engage in him so much.

Every bullet, burn, and stab wound was almost a gift from you in his eyes. The scars you left behind in your rage would be traced by his hands carefully after Doc had finished stitching him back together again. He didn’t know if what he felt for you was love (yet), but he adored the artful bruises and marks you left on him, and savored the more permanent indents you left in his flesh. Each commemorated one of his precious meetings and fights with you, so why wouldn’t he? He wondered now if you treasured the little nicks he accidentally left on you the same way.

(He knew you probably didn’t hold the same sort of infatuation for him, but he didn’t care. These were signs enough of the passion you must’ve had. After all, there is a very thin line between hate and love from what he’s heard, and with how vicious you were, you must’ve held a lot for him. He’s flattered.)

On the other hand, you simply found him as a very stressful, expensive annoyance. You could deal with the confusion from his lack of intent to seriously harm you (even if it was mind-numbing to consider, for someone like him). What you couldn’t deal with was the acts themselves and how he continued to be a nuisance in your life.

For one, it often led to you having to clean up the area that he’d broken into, because he never cared if you were busy at your job or just minding your own business at home. This also led to people like your coworkers and neighbors speculating and prodding you on how you knew him, which was another nuisance entirely. You don’t have any answers for them, which only makes their incessant questioning worse. Headaches are common for you now.

(It’s not like it would be very believable to say that he liked you enough to pester you. You didn’t even know if Hank could like people, and you really didn’t care enough to ask him what he thought of you. It already seems like it would be trouble if he believes you’re interested in anything about him. He already does, unbeknownst to you.)

It was also too much work to simply fight him in your opinion, even if you willfully did so. You just loathed having to waste the effort to get rid of him even for a little bit. It became so bad that you even griped openly to him about how you hated having to waste your precious ammo and medical supplies on a fight that wasn’t even worth it. Why would it be, to battle an enemy that never stays dead?

(You grimaced when you searched his now-cold body to find extra shotgun shells and packaged slugs, accompanied by a note holding a scribble of a heart drawn in scratchy red ink. He was giving you gifts now, ugh. And what the hell could that heart possibly mean? Did this mean he actually liked you or was this some sick psyop to catch you off guard and get him a win next time? You aren’t sure which is worse.)

Plus, to make matters worse, your brother also caught wind of it and it nearly gave him a heart attack. You, his dear older sibling, being under the scrutiny of Hank was the furthest thing from what he wanted. He knows you got into this just to protect him, and he feels almost nauseous with guilt over it already. So now you have to both reassure Sheriff that it’s not his fault (it’s not like he could possibly know just how delusional Hank was), in addition to risking your own life for practically nothing.

In contrast, however, Hank absolutely loves his interactions with you. Violence is his favorite thing to take part in, so if anything he considers these to be like little bonding sessions together.

He knows deep down that you two are far closer than that after all the time you’ve spent together, even if you’d deny it. The side you show him when you engage in your rather violent trysts is one you haven’t shown anyone else (mainly because there hasn’t been anyone you’ve genuinely hated so badly), so he knows that he knows you better than any other grunt.

Hank accepts you for who you truly are, despite how much you resist his strange “affections”. Besides, he knows what the two of you have is special. There’s nobody else in Nevada who can be yours to harm and come back from the grave so many times, just as he’s never enjoyed being at the mercy of someone else when in combat. Your connection was just unique like that, and he knew you had to have at least some inkling of similar feelings. It’s almost like you were made for each other, in a way. To him, you were so alike in your rage, no matter how much you’d despise that thought.

(He remembered how his hands trembled as he placed them over yours, the combat knife you held just inches away from his stomach You’d been getting better at this; you’d managed to nearly gut him within only a few minutes. He was proud, and he figured you should be too.

“You enjoy this,” he rasped and your frown deepened. “Fighting me. You put so much work into it, and I can see it.”

“Killing you.” You corrected simply, twisting your wrist to break his hold with a huff. “I enjoy killing you. And I’d love it more if you’d fucking stay dead, you prick.”)

Eventually, Hank even begins to want more than what you have now. Those minutes he spends in your presence whenever he, well, has time to die, simply aren’t enough. He knows it’s one thing to see you in your element battling it out with him, but now he feels the need to observe every other facet of your being. Which, of course, means spending a lot more quality time together.

Hank can be stealthy, but he’s not even trying to hide how he’s keeping tabs on you. If you’re at work, then he’s a customer, if you’re at home, he’s a guest, and if you’re visiting your family, he’s your chaperone. You just can’t put a stop to the constant visits he makes to do nothing but look at you. His place is that of an unwelcome voyeur into the once-peaceful routine of your daily life.

(Again, Sheriff is completely fear-stricken when he sees you walk in side-by-side with his killer. He knows you’d never let anything happen to him, but the shock of it is almost too much for him to handle. It’s obvious that you’re just as confused as he is, but you mask it with indignation at having to put up with the tall merc for longer than you normally have to.)

Usually, you have no issue starting an altercation just to get rid of Hank, but you really don’t want to do that around others more than necessary. Of course this just emboldens your acquaintances to ask about why a well-known murderer is following you around like some sort of gore-covered lost puppy.

(“So…like, why is he here?” Your coworker whispers to you in a panic, feeling a shudder roll down them when Hank stares at them. They can practically feel the rage he has, and for what? Speaking to you? Existing?

You respond with a blank stare, and it's now that they notice how exhausted you appear. “He would not still be here if I knew of a reason why.” It was a vague, non-responsive answer, but when they opened their mouth to question further, the sharp look you gave them was enough to make them drop it. Even in the oddest situations, you still seemed the same. It didn’t stop your…companion from threatening them later though.)

That was yet another issue for you to deal with; his weird possessiveness over you. Even after you were more or less forced to put up with him being there more permanently, he still seemed to want some sort of monopoly on your attention.

You had assumed whatever connection between you two was built purely on mutual dislike of the other; there was no other reason why he decided to fight you those many dozen times. Yet, here he was, leering at everyone you interacted with until they decided to flee the immediate area, or damn-near growling whenever they had the nerve to touch you.

In Hank’s mind, he really doesn’t question why he feels so protective over you, and almost jealous when he’s not the object of your attention. It just seems so natural that he doesn’t think it’s odd at all. From his perspective, you’re the only person who could ever have such a hold on him, so it makes complete sense that he’s the only one deserving of all of your time.

Plus, those people get in the way of his objective here anyway; to file away every piece of knowledge he can get from simply watching you. You’re too wary to act like he’s not there, even if you try to pretend you can. However, he’s found that he just enjoys the sight of you simply being, even if it’s not completely natural on your part. It’s far from the fulfillment he gets when you’re trading blows, but enough to sate that part of him that hungers for you.

In the end, he doesn’t know whether or not you’ll ever fully return these feelings he has for you, but he doesn’t find that he cares that much. He’ll continue to be around you regardless; so long as you can tolerate him this much, anything further is just a bonus. (One that he might secretly hope for, but he won't stake much a chance on it.)

To you, it's obvious Hank wants something, but you can’t pin down what. (In your dread, you’re not even sure you want to.) It seems like he gets his fill by being near you somehow, which is less of a relief than you initially assumed it would be. What was once solely comprised of violence eventually became a terse existence in each other’s presence that was just as tiring as the former. The silver lining for you was that you could keep him away from Sheriff with little effort, and for that, you were actually happy. You could put up with this to keep him safe, you reasoned, no matter how bad it got. Which it likely would.

Considering how in the dark you were about Hank in general, you had no idea of the deeper feelings and morbid fascination he had for you, but it’s imminent for you to find out. After all, Hank’s intention to become a permanent fixture in your life came along with his need to be even closer to you than he is now. And once he finds a way to, there’ll be nothing stopping him from keeping you and your enthralling reactions to himself. Forever.

[mad-hunts]

you know... now that i think about it? winslow not approving of what barton is doing currently and telling his surrogate son that, if/when he decides to come over to visit him, to not talk about it with him is something that i think has contributed to him feeling this desire to punish himself — though i'm not saying that winslow is a bad person for wanting barton to do and BE better, OFC, which is exactly the motivation behind this. i was just thinking about the complexity of their relationship today because to say that its totally different from the relationship barton had with his abusive bio father, wesley, wouldn't even be enough.

i mean, it's like WAYYY on the other side of the spectrum... and so i think that barton found the father figure he always really wanted in winslow. which definitely isn't a bad thing, but to him, it's like a double-edged sword. and i say that while presenting it to y'all like this. so, imagine growing up with a father that was cruel, instead of nurturing and the only way to get his approval seemed to be to participate in some pretty... well, horrible stuff, to put it bluntly of your 'own free will.'

(and i put that in quotations because of course barton was forced to join his bio father on those 'hunting trips' he went on + was manipulated into doing things he didn't want to every step of the way on them by wesley. because he ruled by fear, and barton feared that if he even took one little step out of line, that he'd get verbally berated / yelled at or quite possibly emotionally abused in some other terrible way). but then this father is shot and you happen to stumble upon another person who took you in + would eventually become a father figure to you as well. and all of the things that you learned from the father you had previously are still set in deep in you, even though this father (winslow) seems to want the best for you, so you're kind of confused when he doesn't reward bad behavior.

even though you know that it's not 'normal,' and that's where the self-punishment part comes in. because barton had already lost one father, though the nature of that relationship was absolutely horrendous, he feels an even bigger need to get winslow's approval. but the things in which he learned from wesley, which were all the wrong thing's (things like you rule by fear, and it's okay to hurt people, because they were born 'imperfect') still apply to him now so he's not getting it.

and this results in this perpetual cycle of barton being resentful that he's not able to obtain it from him, but also have this underlying feeling of dread inside of him because he doesn't know if he can change to get it? it's... yeah, upsetting, because although winslow is trying to push barton like this with good intentions; he kind of takes it in a similar way that he used to when he 'failed' wesley. or barton feels like he's broken for not being able to fulfill this image that winslow envisions of him, in other words. and that's also a reason why i think why he so scarcely talks to his own surrogate father figure now too

[fletcher-braley]

Fletcher Braley He/Him. Cis Man. Thirty Two.

full name: Fletcher Owen Braley nicknames: Fletch birthday: Twenty Third of March, 1992 current residence: Bighorn Hills time in providence peak: about 5 years 5 months - arrived October 2018 sexuality: Bisexual occupation: Bartender at Crane Bros Distillery face claim: Logan Lerman

positive traits: observant, intuitive, down-to-earth, amicable, supportive, compassionate negative traits: passive, melancholic, indulgent, compulsive, insecure, pushover

— HOBBIES

reading comics - fletcher doesn’t have a favorite superhero or anything of the sort, it was just how he passed time before he made his friends in Philly. If he finds any now, he still loves to indulge on the colorful pictures and art-based storytelling. hiking - the woods and mountains always feel like home, and that’s probably because when he was out there, he felt unseen by society. the only people who mattered were the friends he was with. jogging - it’s a calm activity to do that helps him to blow off steam when he is particularly stressed. cooking - this goes back to him learning from his mother, who he was close with. he loved cooking with her, and that love for the activity lives on to this day. he isn’t gordon ramsey level by far, but he can whip something decent together on a whim.

— FAVORITES

food - scrambled eggs with tobasco and breakfast potatoes drink - tito’s & cranberry juice (alcoholic) & sweet tea pink lemonade (nonalcoholic) movie - the never ending story song - all these things i’ve done by the killers color - forest green

— HABITS

social smoker after a few drinks [cigarettes] / likes a good weekend bender [alcohol] / occasional consumption of anything that comes from the earth [drugs] nervous ticks include chewing on his bottom lip, wrinkling his nose, and shifting from foot to foot, subtle stutter if he’s nervous

— PHYSICAL APPEARANCE

height : 5′9" tattoos : n/A scars : small one on the left side of his chin from stitches, surgical scar in his right wrist from surgery after a nasty break piercings : n/A hair : dark brown with a wave, if it gets long enough (and it often does because he gets lazy about trimming it) it curls on the ends, around his ears and at the base of his neck

— FASHION

clothes - simple t-shirts, hoodies, long-sleeve baseball tees, sweaters, straight-leg jeans, bomber jackets, jogger sweatpants for lazy days, nothing attention grabbing or flashy, absolutely no tank tops ever shoes - vans or work boots accessories - simple industrial bracelet bought from a tourist shop

— HISTORY

(car accident tw, alcohol mention, drug mention, teenage pregnancy, abortion mention, loveless marriage, unhealthy family dynamics)

Fletcher had been the fourth son born to a couple in Blooming Glen, Pennsylvania. With a seven year gap between Fletcher and the last born boy it led to him being excluded from older activities as well as taunted by the two middle sons just all for the fun of it.

His only solace was his eldest brother who had matured faster than the other two, and his mother. And oh, Fletcher most loved his mother, who was soft and tender and was the only one who would focus on him when he tried to talk at the dinner table. He did his best to linger behind to help clean up after meals and stick by her side because she made him feel known. Every day his father had to come look for him to try and put him to work around the farm.

Now his father wasn't a kind man. Not to him nor to his mother. Never was domestic violence an issue in the household, but even at as young as five years old Fletcher understood an absence of love in their marriage. His mother was a quiet and timid woman so looking back it made sense why she stuck around, but then he'd always wondered and he'd wonder more so when he got the brunt of his father's nasty side brought out by his habitual drinking.

(One of his brother's would say it had been because Fletch had been the son of the milk man. The other would insist he’d been dropped off in a FEDEX package. He never understood either at that age.)

It was when he turned twelve that he decided he was fed up with how things worked in his house. He packed his duffel bag and walked off the farm to never look back, finding a bus stop and taking on to Philadelphia. His father lividly reminded him their house didn’t have a revolving door despite his mother’s pleading to get him to come home. As much as Fletcher missed her, he had no intention of returning ever.

In Philadelphia, Fletcher’s aunt of his had a spare bedroom - his mother had contacted her sister to ensure he had a roof over his head. Fletcher always knew even if it wasn’t said that she was doing her best to keep him taken care of, and he had a good relationship with his aunt anyway. This opportunity granted him the chance to build life in a busier city, immerse himself in public schooling, and to finally seek out his purpose.

Fletcher wasn’t a star student with a low G.P.A., struggling with Cs and Ds (his only A being his phys. ed. class), which left him unqualified to join any after school sports. Instead, he spent most of his time sitting on the floor of a local bookstore reading comic books. Socially withdrawn, it took almost a full school year until he made his first friend that introduced him into a bigger circle.

Fletcher found he adored each and every one of them, hanging onto every detail of the stories they told and admiring the caliber of life they all experienced. Aside from that they also brought adventure into his life in the form of spontaneous late-night drives, getting drunk on hiking trails outside of the city, and eating their weight’s worth in fast food after midnight. It was all simple, but it was more than he got to be involved in while in Blooming Glen.

In that time, Fletcher had also met his high school sweetheart. He may have been only sixteen, but he was sure he found The One. The unraveled around their senior year, when they were both eighteen and a positive pregnancy test brought two very different reactions from them. Fletch, wanting to keep the baby, and his partner wanting freedom in her future. Her decision to go through with a medical abortion clashed with his excitement turned disappointment, and it created an irreparable rift. They didn’t last long after graduation. 

Fletcher aimed for community college, but that lasted about a year before he dropped. He lost his drive and immersed himself in the same late nights filled with drunken antics that he indulged in while in high school. At twenty, he saved up enough money to get a snug studio apartment outside of West Philadelphia. He sought employment at the nearest tavern and started as a dishwasher, then moved up to bartender within the year.

With no goal in mind, Fletcher stuck it out there. It wasn’t until a late night out resulting in a car crash he was involved in that he figured out what he’d want to do. 

Someone ran a red light at an interaction and t-boned the car his friend had been driving. Fortunately there were no fatalities, but the car was a goner and one of his friends in the back seat sustained injuries that required a trip via ambulance to the nearest hospital. Firefighters needed to pry open the door as they had been pinned, and the EMTs rushed around everyone to make sure each and every person involved had been taken care of. Fletcher had nothing but a wrist sprain and bruised ribs, but watching them work inspired him to pursue that field. He wanted to help people.

Volunteering on the local EMT squad confirmed that idea, and then Fletcher began paramedic school. For a few years he managed to keep a job on the rig where he happily pulled long shifts even over holidays. Weekend social outings put a stop to that plan when eventually his irresponsible behavior led him to showing up to paramedic school hungover one too many times, and he was expelled from the training and released from the EMT squad at the age of twenty four after testing positive for marijuana consumption due to the use of it being illegal at that time.

He was back at square one and stuck it out as a bartender. It wasn’t all that fulfilling, but the money was good enough. The restlessness inside of him had to be ignored when responsibility was needed to keep off the streets. Fletcher just found value in his friendships and the experiences shared with them for the time-being.

However, he began to feel stagnant, and in due time Fletcher decided to make a move. Before his thirties, he decided. It would be worth it to experience other parts of the world. First he tried Colorado for a couple years when he was twenty seven, the nature and entire vibe something fun. He’d been there before, visiting a friend, and settling down in Providence Peak had been the perfect opportunity for a fresh start.

— HEADCANONS

✧ Fletcher does know how to ride a horse, and he knows basic homesteading. Very very basic, as he'd been young when he dipped out on the cattle farm. I.e. canning, making dummy pickles, growing a small herb garden over the back of his kitchen sink. ✧ One of his favorite places to visit in Philadelphia was the Mutter Museum. ✧ Fletcher is a very enthusiastic Philadelphia Flyers fan, and he loves Gritty — as can be seen in the various bits of Gritty apparel in his closet, the coffee mug in the cabinet, and the sticker on the back of his car. ✧ Fletcher is allergic to strawberries. ✧ He will only drink Fiji water. No Smart water, no Dasani, no Poland Springs or Deer Park. None of it. He wants Fiji. ✧ He's terrified of spider crickets (or camel crickets, whichever is the name you know them by). ✧ Once he moved out to Providence Peak, he sold the compact car he arrived in to replace it with 1990 Toyota Land Cruiser for, you know, woodsy things. And he liked the old vibe of it being an upkept, thirty year old vehicle. That being said, the hood doesn't match the rest of the car in color, and it isn't great in terms of gas mileage, but hey. ✧ He has a three year old German Shepherd mix named Boone that he lets roam the property of the cabin he lives in. Being he chose one closer to the hiking trails, it is more secluded, and he figured a dog for protection would be wise.

— CONNECTIONS

I am down for most connects. Fletcher can use any friends from the last five-six years he has been in this town, and as much as I think the boy can't have a malicious bone in his body, I am down for any negative connections. I am not looking for any endgame romantic connections at this point, like to work on natural chemistry. I also don’t do any sort of pregnancy plots - scares, accidental, etc. - on a whim. For anyone looking for messy, he might not be your boy, but we can see what we work out.

Loose ideas for connections:

- Any new friends he's met over the years since he's moved to Providence Peak. - Neighbors in Bighorn Hills. - Someone Fletcher simply tolerates - whatever has caused disdain between the two would be talked out. (1/1) ** taken by @foster-notmatty - Almost maybe in terms of dating. Maybe he'd met someone, and it teetered close to something but ended up being nothing. this is not an end game scenario in the works (1/1) **taken by @deanchaiyachet - The one off hook-up. Limited spaces for this as he is more of a commitment guy, sleeping around isn't something he aims to do. I'd say (0/2). - Regular patrons to the distillery he works at, the sort he knows all the fun background details to as those who drink tend to talk. A lot.

— CURRENT CONNECTIONS

♡ @reggiefalvey - friend met by chance in reggie's travels, now current roommates in bighorn hills. reggie is a breath of fresh air, and a constant reminder to fletch that sometimes he needs to just live. aside from the ever running tap contributing to the growing water bill, and all the bruises he's gotten walking into cabinet doors left open, reggie's been a welcomed addition to his home. ♡ @sagefranklin - tbd. ♡ @estherclements - met through reggie, current friends and a fellow experimental cook in the kitchen. ♡ @theaxharris - met through his patronage at holy spirits, built a repertoire. ♡ @dylan-westwick - fellow nature lover, hiking buddies, and adventurers of the Colorado wilds. fletch adores the twins just as much, and he likes to steal her away for the usual activities as much as time permits. ♡ @dilanxbarak - met her through a dog park, though he learned her dog's name first (woops), and makes time for doggie playdates around town and on the hiking trails. ♡ @emelinecormier - what started as simply bumming and wagering pool bets for a cigarette outside the various bars in providence has turned into emeline being one of the first people fletch sends a text out to if he's wanting to go out for a few drinks. ♡ @rachelhargrove - boone menaced walter as a puppy, and now fletch enjoys bringing (a much larger) boone back around so he can chat with rachel and be a fellow proud dog parent with her. ♡ @foster-notmatty - kinda sorta ran in the same circles in philadelphia, but didn't necessarily get along. it wasn't that they hated one another, they just rubbed one another the wrong way. so fletch simply tolerates foster. ♡ @cynthiafalvey - it's less about the fact they shared a kiss and more about all the little moments that built up to it happening. more the, the fact that after it happened, it's seemingly been swept under the rug. fletch doesn't know where he stands with cynthia at this point, and it isn't like he's hopelessly wishing for something to come out of it, but he just wants the weird dance they do to end so they can be back to normal.

— LINKS

pinterest: [ link ] soundtrack: [ link ] personal playlist: [ link ] inspo tag: [ link ]

[imruination]

I get what you are trying to say but Darkling did not love Alina. He loved her power. He saw not value in her as her own person. Yes, the Darkling and Alina’s dynamic is complicated but it’s not supposed to be seem as a “romantic undertone” is abuse, is gaslighting, is a man using his power on a vulnerable teenager. The OP was asking the right questions. That phase should NOT be romanticized because it’s pure evil and disgusting. It should not be interpreted as “grey”. Abuse is abuse. There’s not layers to consider, especially coming from the darkling. This is a years old being that has mastered the arts of manipulation, not a teenager or a simple person.

** TW ABUSE**

Hi nonny. Not gonna lie, the first thing I did when I read this ask was laugh because I spend every day trashing the darkling as a person, and suddenly I’m defending him? What is happening? It’s much more complicated then that though. I’m gonna link you to this post if you’re interested because I think it’s very relevant.

I want to start this off by saying that if I say something that comes across as controversial, I am speaking from my own personal experience with abuse in real life, and not because I think the darkling is an innocent baby.

I mentioned liking the romantic undertone of d/arklina in the books BECAUSE it was very problematic. One of my favorite themes in Shadow and Bone is power and corruption. If Mal represents Alina’s old life, and her tether to humanity, then the Darkling is the opposite. He is immortality and unlimited power no matter the cost. It’s a complete disconnect from the average human population, from little poor orphan girls. I like that the darkling manipulates her, and attempts to seduce her because that’s what power does. Absolute power corrupts absolutely. It tricks you into wanting more and more until you’ve crossed a line that you weren’t even aware was there.

I personally don’t believe in the idea of “pure evil” in real life, and by extension realistic characters. I think ideals can be evil. Behaviors can be evil. I do not believe humans are born evil, and whatever behaviors they are exhibiting are likely something they have learnt from the world around them. Does that make the behavior okay? Of course not. They are still a person though.

In real life I completely understand why it would be comforting to view something like abuse as very black and white, and it’s really not my business how someone deals with something that traumatized them. For myself though, one of the hardest lessons I’ve had to learn in my life is that abusers aren’t evil, they’re just people. If there are no layers, and the abuser is just inherently a bad person, I am not holding them accountable for all of the choices they have repeatedly made.

I have to disagree, I think the Darkling did love Alina. I believe he yearned for nothing more than an equal and a companion. The hero to his monster, without which neither could be complete. But what he was yearning for was a lie.

I like Baghra’s quote on this being “Know that I loved you, know that it wasn’t enough.” She learned how to love from a toxic family, and a toxic environment towards all people like her. Aleksander learned to love from Baghra. You can love someone and still abuse them. You can love someone and try an control them. You can love someone and choose power over them.

It’s all very ironic. Love can be toxic and all consuming to an unhealthy degree, and that’s the very thing that lead to the Darkling’s downfall. I don’t see this as romanticizing abuse (again from someone who’s been through it). Real people are grey. He should have wants and goals and feelings as a character, that doesn’t mean he’s even redeemable. It’s tragic.

The darkling wasn’t able to stop the cycle of generational trauma and violence. He was once a young boy who wanted love and equality. He grew into a centuries old man who abused those around him to meet his goals. He perpetuated violence.

But who does succeed in breaking that cycle? Alina. Like it or not, the entire point is that she could eventually grow into the mirror image of the Darkling. It’s all about individual choices. She does not have to return the darkling’s love and team up with him just to make herself look brighter. She does not have to risk it all for power. She does not have to throw every part of that little orphan girl away until she’s unrecognizable. But she so easily could. And that’s terrifying.

Mercy is at the end of the day, Alina’s true super power. She does see that scared little boy inside of Aleksander, and that’s a good thing!!! Not so she can be in love with him and live behind some white picket fence, but so she won’t repeat his mistakes. She sees the darkling as a human just like everyone else. If she didn’t, I think that might be very bad for everyone.

[yandere-daydreams]

Title: First Impressions.

Pairing: Yandere!Xiao + Zhongli x Reader (Genshin).

Word Count: 1.5k.

TW: Modern AU, N/S/F/W, Rough Sex, Unbalanced Power Dynamics, Dubiously Consensual Voyeurism, Questionable Implications, and Unhealthy Relationships.

Morax was taller than you’d expected him to be.

Well, not taller – it’d been hell to wrangle a name out of Xiao, let alone a physical description – but more imposing, more intimidating than you’d known to brace yourself for. You hadn’t thought to wonder just how piercing his dark eyes would be, just how high he’d hold himself, whether or not he’d be wearing the same clean-cut suit you’d seen in the sparse pictures Xiao had shown you, always begrudgingly, always with a scowl a little more pronounced than the one he usually wore. You hadn’t thought about how small you’d feel, sitting in front of him, resisting the urge to cross your legs and curse yourself aloud for not dressing as formally as your limited budget would allow.

You hadn’t expected to have to see Xiao, your boyfriend of a little over a year, straddling Morax’s thigh, attempting unsuccessfully to bite back stiffled whimpers and hitched moans as Morax split him open on his fingers.

Not that you hadn’t thought to ask any questions. You’d practically interrogated Xiao – spent all morning asking any and every question that came to mind (Should you wear glasses or contacts? How long would the drive be? Would he be more impressed if you were the one driving? Should you lie about your major? If you did lie about your major, would he be able to tell?). You’d asked, more times than you could count, if Xiao thought his dad would like you, and when he scowled and reiterated that Morax wasn’t his father, you’d just smiled and asked what he was supposed to be, then. You’d never gotten an answer – just pursed lips and a look you couldn’t quite read. You were starting to see why he'd been so cagey.

Morax wasn’t his dad. Or, you really, really hoped he wasn’t, at least. It was a little hard to gauge a family resemblance when Xiao’s face was buried in Morax’s chest, his fists balled around the fabric of a recently pressed dress-shirt as he fought to stifle the kind of pathetic, whimpering noises you’d never heard him make, before. Despite his best attempts to restrain himself, he was all flushed cheeks and parted lips, pliable and yielding in someone else’s hands. He’d been soft with you, prone to averting his eyes and turning red whenever you did anything more romantic than hold his hand, but never so fragile, never so easily cracked open. This side of him wasn’t just new - it was completely alien.

In comparison, Morax couldn’t have been more composed. His eyes were half-lidded, but not narrowed or clenched. His posture was straight, but not rigid, perfectly relaxed and perfectly poised without one factor compromising the other. He wasn’t frowning or smiling, scowling or sneering – his expression one of pleasant neutrality, as if he hadn’t yet decided how to feel about you, but would've preferred to enjoy your company. It made you want to make him like you. It made you want to run.

He cleared his throat, and you shrunk into yourself, resisting the urge to flee. Vertigo blurred and bruised your senses as you stared up at him from the opposing side of his impossibly tall desk, and you forced yourself to meet his gaze, swallow your anxiety and ignore the fresh wave of dread that washed in to fill the empty space. The door to his office was locked, and you'd needed half a dozen different key cards just to get to this floor, but you just couldn’t fight the intrusive thought that someone would walk in, see Xiao – see you. Morax didn’t seem particularly worried, but you didn’t know whether or not someone in his position would be. “Xiao tells me that you’re a student?”

A small smile came to rest across his lips. “An enterprising young scholar. This industry could use more people like you.” He would know. Xiao had neglected to mention that his Morax was the Morax, founder and CEO of Liyue – one of the most vicious corporations with a vice-grip on the free market, known for their cutthroat policies and ironclad contracts - and you hadn't made the connection until you stepped through the doors of his behemoth of a headquarters, until you finally found it in yourself to acknowledge the name plastered on every available surface. Even now, sitting in his office, it was difficult to believe. The fact that he was also finger-fucking your boyfriend did little to help. “I wanted to meet you sooner, but you know how Xiao can be. Always so shy – it’s a miracle he met someone as patient as you must be.”

Beneath your confusion, something else sparked: the inexplicable urge to impress the man in front of you. That was what you'd come here to do - meet the parents, make small talk, prove to Xiao that he could tryst you with more than just vague half-truths about his past. Only, you weren't meeting his parents, and you hadn't spoken in minutes, and you weren't sure that this was something you would've ever chosen to know.

As if in a daze, you found yourself nodding. “I am,” And then, when his expression didn’t waver. “I’m currently interning with Mondstadt's financial advisement department, too. It’s only an entry-level position, but they keep me busy.”

“I’m just happy to have met him at all.” He spread his fingers apart, and Xiao’s breath hitched, his hips bucking forward and grinding into Morax’s thigh. You could see precum soaking into the dark fabric. It’d leave a stain. “I’m sorry, Morax, sir, but I—”

“Zhongli will do. Outside of this building, there aren’t many people who still call me by that archaic name.” His smile broadened. “Go on.”

You nodded, and Xiao choked on a moan. “I just… I don’t think Xiao ever mentioned how you two knew each other.”

That, however unintentionally, earned a breathy laugh, a certain lilt to the way he held his head. “Xiao worked for me, for a time. I don’t need his help as often as I once did, but loyalty can be a difficult thing to find, and Xiao’s done more than enough to prove his faithfulness.” By way of reward, Morax— no, Zhongli flicked his wrist, curled his fingers in a way that seemed to make Xiao fracture. “I’m assuming you’ve fucked?”

It wasn’t the question that caught you off-guard, you were already numb to the point of distant apathy, but the vulgarity of it. Fucked. Someone like Zhongli shouldn’t have said something like that. Someone like Xiao shouldn’t have been doing something like this. “We have.”

“I’m assuming you had to initiate?”

“No, sir.” Your tongue felt like lead, your mind like quickly dissipating fog. “He’s very assertive.”

Something behind his eyes seemed to catch the lights. From a distance, you watched as he leaned toward Xiao, cupping his chin and muttering something inaudible in his ear before turning his attention back to you. “How is he? Dominant? Controlling? Desperate?” He paused, tapping Xiao’s cheek with his thumb. His pace slowed, and Xiao whined in protest, the sound high-pitched and needy. “Tell me he’s attentive, at least. It’d be a shame if all my hard work amounted to so little.”

You tried to reach for the arm of your chair, to steady yourself, but your limbs felt like they were made of static, your head stuffed with cotton, and it was all you could do to keep yourself upright, to tear your eyes away from Xiao and let your gaze fall to the floor – tasteful faux-wood, freshly waxed and completely unmarred. You don’t know how long you spent there, answering Zhongli’s prying questions with little ‘no, sir’s and ‘yes, sir’s, biting the inside of your cheek and trying to remind yourself that eventually, this would end. You heard Xiao’s voice, pulled so far from the airy grunts and stifled groans he’d usually spare for you, saw something white and thick drip onto those perfectly wooden floors, and finally, Zhongli clicked his tongue, shrugging off his jacket and draping it over Xiao’s exposed form with more than a note of tenderness. He kept Xiao pressed into his chest as he stood, supporting him effortlessly, and only spared you a glance, a smile before nodding to the farthest wall of his office, to a door built into the paneling that you hadn’t noticed, not until he nudged it open with his shoulder and beckoned you inside. You were led, glassy-eyed and trace-like, through a series of vacant hallways and empty stairwells, into a dimly-lit garage where a sleek, black car waited – a luxury model, the engine still running and the driver obscured behind tinted windows. Xiao, legs shaking and swimming in his borrowed jacket, was ushered into the backseat, and then, Zhongli looked toward you, his expression expectant.

“I’ll join you in a few hours.” It was the shell of an excuse, all the polite formality without the explanation, the part that was actually supposed to give you any kind of closure. “Xiao will take care of you until I’m more available.”

You pursed your lips, keeping your eyes on the ground as you spoke. “Do… do we have something else to talk about?”

“Oh, you don’t have to worry. We won’t be talking for much longer.” His tone was light, gentle. Cloyingly saccharine in a way that left your vision clouded and something acidic rising into the back of your throat. “You wouldn’t want to disappoint an old man, now, would you?”

For a long moment, you hesitated.

Then, with no small amount of reluctance, you slipped into the backseat, letting Zhongli close the door behind you.

As the car started moving, Xiao slumped against your side, burying his face in the crook of your shoulder. You felt his breath fan over your throat, his body seeping heat into your cold skin as he mumbled something into your ear, nearly lost under the sounds of tires against pavement.

“I love you.”

You didn’t have a chance to respond, not before his mouth latched onto his throat and his teeth sank into your neck.

[devil-doll13]

Abigail Williams SFW Alphabet 🖤

Tw: Angst, Unhealthy relationship dynamics, mention of Abby killing people because of course.

Note: I’ve done Max’s and Zach’s so now onto Abigail’s. A chunk of this has been sitting in my drafts for a while so some of it is kind of outdated probably, just be aware lol.

This can be read platonically or romantically in most cases

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

At first, not at all. Abigail’s a bit shy and even cold if she doesn’t know you well. Once you get past that initial stage though, she actually really loves affection! She is actually incredibly touch-starved but she herself doesn’t know it. Abby barely knows what an actual loving touch feels like to be honest, it’s both frightening and heartwarming all at once.

Doesn’t vibe with too much pda though. She gets too flustered tbh.

B = Best Friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

Any friendship with Abigail starts off slow. She’s even more wary of strangers now than she was in her youth. One thing that’ll help is if you both show vulnerability in some way, it helps her to connect with you and see you as a trustworthy person. Once that’s established it’ll happen naturally. Doesn’t really have any other (living) friends so you’ll become her bestie by default.

To be honest though it’s a little dangerous to be her friend, as while it’s unlikely she’d ever hurt you intentionally… Black magic is black magic, and since she doesn’t really know what a healthy relationship looks like and is known for various degrees of jealousy and a violent/cruel streak, it could become toxic despite her trying to be harmless for you.

But she’s a ride or die friend. Seriously, trust her to bury the body if you kill someone then take you out for icecream later. Only thing is you need to have that same attitude towards her or she might feel betrayed or something. (You might already have some dubious morals if you’re her friend anyway.)

Of course, by far the most interesting side to being close to her is the possibility that she would take you under her wing as a student. Deep down there is a wish to know someone as knowledgeable in mysticism as she is, but for lack of that person she feels some draw towards teaching it, creating her own little protégé. This is also very practical for her; she may even end up living in your house and turning it into a place for rituals and potion-brewing so be careful lol. It might be for the better if this doesn’t happen tbh, because then she might reach further and develop a whole coven, (teaching is pretty addictive for her, and so is growing in power) just as The Organisation feared she would. Maybe then she’d have a chance of surpassing even Lucy, her infamous witch mother.

C = Cuddle (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

Abigail loves loves loves to cuddle! She craves being close and feeling your warmth. It’ll take a while though, so you need to be a little patient here honestly. If you try and get too close too fast she’ll flinch and recoil away instinctively. You both need to go slow at first, and be gentle. If you’re the same way it actually helps oddly enough, because Abby understands and feels less afraid that you’ll mean her harm. Because she’s so angular she isn’t the most comfortable, but she tries.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

Abigail honestly loves the idea of domesticity, but she only keeps it as a distant fantasy in her head. She never knew what it really felt like to have a family that actually loved her so she sometimes thinks about that now and again. It feels like a distant dream for Abby though, so she fools herself into believing she’s happier alone so she can focus on her occult studies. It’s something that’s slowly eroding away the little semblance of humanity she still has left.

She’s a pretty good cook and baker! Her signature is definitely pie. Especially apple pie. It’s kind of relaxing for her since it’s such a mundane task. Don’t be afraid, It tastes and smells nice, if only she had someone to share it with yeah?

Abigail also likes to keep things relatively clean, but it does sometimes get a bit cluttered… She’ll organise everything now and again to make sure it doesn’t get too out of control. Sometimes she does lose things, partially because she doesn’t have a stable home.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

Abigail goes hard for the commitment so it takes a lot for her to think about ending things unless you do something really drastic yourself. Honestly I could see her as putting up with toxic behaviour in exchange for ‘love,’ just because she needs it that badly, and getting into an extremely dysfunctional dynamic because you’re both terrible for each other. Not that that would end well for anyone involved, of course.

… But if it’s some kind of cheating or betrayal (especially if you help the witch hunters on her tail…), she’ll really have nothing else to say to you. That’s really her limit and breaking point. She won’t hurt you back because there’s a part of her that still loves you, but anything you had is gone now. She’ll leave in the dead of night without a trace. As if she never existed in your life at all. Don’t ever try to go looking for her, it won’t end well.

F = Fiancé(e) (how do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

Abigail really needs commitment in a relationship honestly. She can’t do casual stuff, she could never be vulnerable with someone she doesn’t trust completely.

Abby doesn’t care for a big wedding or anything, she’d rather just elope with you and marry informally, preferably far away from a church. She loves the idea of exchanging rings as a symbol of devotion to eachother, though. She’ll never take hers off. It makes her heart feel strangely warm when she looks at it.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

Abby’s typically very gentle. Soft soft touches like you’re made of porcelain, it literally doesn’t matter how strong/tough you are, if she’s your friend she’ll always try to be cautious with you. It might seem surprising if you’ve ever seen her with… A victim before, since that’s when she’s at her most brutal, physically. She can switch it up in a heartbeat for you, but don’t forget there’s still that vindictive side to her.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

Once again… Making herself physically vulnerable to someone will take time and trust. Especially getting that close. (She remembers the last time she let someone hug her… It didn’t turn out well)

Her hugs are gentle, she seems to be a bit delicate in the way she wraps her arms around you and squeezes just ever so slightly. She’s not always the best at comforting others but she tries. Abby feels a bit bony though so careful of her sharp little elbows.

I = I Love You (How fast do they say the L-Word?)

Abigail loves you before she can even stop herself. Honestly, it’s a 50/50 whether she’s fast or slow to say it. She thinks it over in her head before she says it, like with most things. But those words feel foreign to her; she honestly doesn’t remember if anyone ever told her they loved her. If you say it first, she’ll probably get emotional and say it back immediately. She enjoys saying it to you and hearing it back. It’s a verbal confirmation to her.

Just know you aren’t going back from this if she can help it…

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous)

… Abigail has a jealousy problem, honestly. Borderline possessive, even. In her mind, if you’re in a committed relationship then you belong to her as much as she belongs to you. That might not be the healthiest, but it can be worked on over time. She can be like this with friends too, she has never really had a friend group so it’s hard for her to adjust to one. In the end, she’s just insecure and afraid you’ll leave her. It can be managed better with some time and communication.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

Abigail kisses gentle and soft, whether as a platonic gesture on the head or a romantic one on the lips. She’s a little shy at first, so she visibly blushes afterward. She enjoys it though.

(She might end up leaving lipstick marks behind too… By accident or on purpose? Hmm…)

L = Little Ones (How are they around children)

Abigail’s alright with children as an adult actually. She tends to gravitate towards the quieter, more wallflower types like she was as a kid. She enjoys indulging their curiosity too.

As an aside, children tend to either love her or be afraid of her. Not that she tries to scare them at all, it’s just the way they react to her presence. Especially babies. Just like when she was a kid and she couldn’t hide her true nature as well. It’s a coin toss really.

M = Mornings (How are mornings spent with them?)

Abigail really has her own day and night cycle… But assuming she’s staying in one place with you closeby, she’ll probably adjust out of necessity.

She isn’t a morning person, I’ll tell you that much. Abby also has wicked bedhair, it’s quite comical. She’ll get up and get herself looking how she wants and probably do breakfast if she needs to. Her go-to is pancakes or cereal, but to be honest she’s been known to skip it.

Abigail really lives her whole life at night. At least it feels that way; the day is just time she spends waiting for the sun to go down. At least the natural lighting helps when it comes to art and studying, and the autumn leaves look nice in the light. That’s basically it though.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

I’ve talked before about her having fun in the graveyard, so I’ll talk about the other stuff.

Mostly, if Abigail is keeping to herself that means she’s doing magic, studying or up to something else you hope won’t backfire… There’s always so much to read and not enough time, so you might have to actually remind her to take a break before she misses both dinner and breakfast the next day.

Long drives at night where she’ll just sit in silence and listen to music. Sometimes she’ll turn off the car and just sit alone in the dark. She thinks a lot during those times. You might never know what about. Abby also likes going to places with music, assuming it’s the kind she likes. She’s pretty selective about it because crowds in any other environment are irritating to her, but basically if they’re playing Sisters of Mercy it’s fine. You’d be surprised by how much she loves dancing too, though you’ve never seen anyone quite move like she does; it’s a bit unnerving. Anyway dance with her, it’ll be fun!

There are times she’ll practically be nocturnal; awake at night and asleep during the day. If you ever wake up in bed and she’s not there, or she’s not in her own bed, it’s probably because she woke up from her dreams again. Late night talks and baking sessions can become a habit if you join her. You might even get a glimpse of what she dreams about.

O = Open (When do they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

Hoo boy… Yeah, this girl has some secrets. Vulnerability, in its truest form, is hard for Abigail. It takes a long time for her to really open up. It sometimes comes in short bursts, like she’ll just say something that might feel out of the blue, but really she’s testing the water to see how you’ll react. If you react in a way she deems good it will help a little, but it’s hard to know how you ‘should.’ Both overreactions and ‘underreactions’ are dangerous, she will clam up if she feels she revealed too much too fast.

Sometimes it’s for your sake as well, or at least she believes that. You might think you know her well, but will you ever know her truly? Perhaps not…

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

Abigail is typically quite a patient and calm person, at least on the surface. She certainly has… A bit of emotional instability, which really shows in moments of distress, rage or when her ego is hurt. Or sometimes she’s just overwhelmed and stressed by something, which can make her frustrated. She’ll feel pretty bad if she snaps at you and you didn’t deserve it, though. Abby will definitely apologise later because she fears ruining your friendship, but that doesn’t mean she won’t do it again tbh.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

Abby prides herself on knowing you well. Like everything you tell her about yourself she carefully stores it away for safekeeping. She kind of studies you, like you’re one of her tomes full of esoteric knowledge or something. Also, if you ever tell her a secret or open up to her about something difficult… She never takes that for granted. She knows herself how hard it can be to make yourself vulnerable to others and trust them in that way, and she would never betray that trust you put in her. She’ll seriously take your secrets to the grave.

R = Remember (What is their favourite moment in their relationship?)

You were both driving around the pitch black, in the middle of winter when it was snowing heavily. Just listening to music in absolute silence. Just enjoying eachother’s company, admiring the scenery outside, all the ice and snow and the moonless night.

Something about that just struck her as special.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

Abigail may not have the physical capability to protect you or shield you from harm, but know that if you’re her friend, she definitely has the means to hurt and torment them. Seriously, you have this sorceress just waiting for someone to fuck up and warrant a punishment. They’ll probably end up dead if she’s pissed off enough… Hope you’re ok with that. You gotta remember she’s a witch after all, and by befriending her you’ve basically made a pact with someone like the devil. She can teach you, if you like.

She’s shocked if you try to do the same with her, but she definitely feels very touched by it. Suffice to say, Abigail has never really had someone try to protect her before. The fact that you think she’s even worth the effort really means a lot.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks)

Dates/outings with Abigail can really depend on how you both feel and what you want to do. It can be anything to a fancy dinner to just driving around aimlessly, she’ll enjoy both. Anniversaries don’t matter to her that much tbh, she appreciates your relationship (platonic or romantic) every day anyway.

Abby likes to help you with different things, especially with cooking because she knows she’s good at that. She kinda has the habit of going passively into orbit around you sometimes, just quietly enjoying your company. It can come off as a bit creepy the way she stares at times honestly… Like she’s tryna leech off your positive vibes

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

Um… Aside from the fact that she’s a murderer? And she’s definitely killed innocent people before?? And she’ll probably continue to do so???

A real relationship-killer can be her habit of being so closed off and hiding things. Seriously, it’s a really bad habit, she doesn’t even mean to do it half the time, it’s like she thinks you just don’t need to know, ever. Also some of her jealous and possessive behaviour, I could see that getting out of hand. It needs to be addressed and dealt with immediately while it’s small, or it could become something more insidious… Her idea of what constitutes loyalty is kind of concerning too, because she’d definitely try to get you to do a blood pact tbh. That gets even worse if she takes you on as a student of some kind, because now she needs to make sure you don’t leak her secrets or take advantage of the power she’s bestowed upon you; it’s natural for her to want the upper hand in everything, including your relationship.

Really, there are plenty of reasons why a relationship with Abigail isn’t advisable, too many to list here.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

A little vain, to be honest. Of course she is, she’s a sorceress! Always likes to have her hair in place and her makeup flawless. She feels a bit naked without it.

(Inside she is more insecure, more self-critical of the strange creature she sees when she looks in the mirror. Her lifeless complexion, all of her ugly scars and all the bones jutting out at odd angles. She hides behind her makeup and fancy clothes; it is a kind of spell she casts, an illusion. If she removes it, will you see the real her, the monster? The vile abomination, see the rot and maggots writhing underneath? Will you leave her, then?)

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

Abigail doesn’t do casual relationships, platonic or romantic. But honestly, sometimes she gets overly attached way too fast, or even projects feelings that aren’t there. She’s the kind to believe in soulmates too. Once you’re in her heart for real, you’re in there forever, until either of you dies.

But this is Abigail we’re talking about here. Even death can’t keep you apart in the end…

X = Xtra: (A random headcanon for them)

Abigail’s attraction to poetry as an art form comes mainly from the fact that she felt like she couldn’t express her feelings to anyone when she was younger. It all comes out in that; a little stereotypical, maybe. She has an easier time writing stuff down instead of saying it sometimes.

If you become her friend/s/o I can see you becoming something of a muse, so expect gifts of artworks she feels are adequate enough. She doesn’t wanna come off as creepy or anything you see, it’s not like she uh watches you constantly or anything…

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

People not respecting her personal space/privacy, those who can’t keep secrets/are gossipy, pressure to open up before she’s ready, cheating, betrayal

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habit of theirs?)

Abigail sleeps like the dead. Once she’s out, she barely moves. She is cold, her heartbeat only faint. Even her breathing slows to an extreme degree. It’s actually slightly unnerving how lifeless she appears. It reminds you that she actually did die, once.

(Taglist: @rottent33th, @slaasherslut, @the-pinstriped-hood, @goldrose-star, @soupbabe, @bluecoolr, @flower-crowned-lady, @vincent-sinclair-deserved-better, @solmints-messyocdiary, @probably-a-plant-thing, @myers-meadow)

[phoebeyates-archive]

location: providence peak + boulder, colorado

date: 25th august - 11th september 2023

(tw: mentions of anxiety, depression, panic attacks, violence/temper, destruction of property, toxic family dynamics)

It started with a cryptic text.

Call you Friday, coming from the woman who had been evading her daughter’s attempts at communication from the last few months. Phoebe didn’t think to believe it, though it made her head hurt slightly. But she kept her head down, focused on work, seeing her friends, ignoring the unhealthy amount of Nerds Rope wrappers in the trash. Stress eating was normal, she wasn’t going to feel guilty for that.

Then Friday came. And the phone rang. And her mom was on the other side, sounding rested and healthy and, to the ire of Phoebe who had spent a good chunk of her summer worrying, happy.

“Where have you been?!” Phoebe had demanded over her mother’s laissez faire “Guess where I am?!”

“Boulder!” She cheered, as the irritated brunette snapped “where?”, her heart immediately plummetting at the reveal.

“Oh,” All the bite in her voice suddenly ceded, and she sounded all but 12 again. “When did you, uh, get back?”

“About a week, hon,” Lisa said, either uncaring or unaware of her daughter’s deflation in mood. “I was going to get in touch sooner but we had details to sort.” It always irked Phoebe how her mom used faux-European pronunciation on words that didn’t need it.

“We? Details?” She asked, ignoring the tears in her eyes at the knowledge that her mom had been in fucking Colorado for over a week and only now got in touch.

“Oh, sweetie, it feels so wrong giving you this news on the phone but, Ian and I are getting married next Saturday. You’ll come right?”

“Ian? Who’s…in Boulder?” Phoebe was glad she had been lounging on her bed when the phone call came. If she had been stood, she probably would have collapsed by now. The room was already feeling a lot warmer, her chest beginning to heave as it seemingly struggled for air.

“Yes.” Lisa dragged the word out, breaking it into two syllables, and Phoebe could picture her there laid out on a sun lounger somewhere, clinging onto the sorority girl cheerleader persona ruined by her accidental not-quite teen pregnancy. “Phoebe, it’d mean so much if you come. You don’t even need to get a flight, it’s just Boulder.”

Phoebe felt like reminding her mom she had never left the city limits of Providence Peak but thought better of it, out of fear she’d be accused of being difficult. So instead she asked all the right questions; the address, how long she had to be there. Wedding theme. What Ian was like.

It would be cancelled anyway.

Except it wasn’t, and after getting time off approved by Asli, Phoebe packed a suitcase and prayed to a God she didn’t fully believe in that Earl would make it to Boulder without incident, wishing she checked the brake pads beforehand. The drive to Boulder was daunting, and she wished she told someone where she was going, what she was doing. How this town had been the furthest she had ever been from home.

It escalated with a sledgehammer to the wall.

Boulder had been a nice place, many similarities to Providence Peak whilst also having its unique identity. Ian seemed nice enough, but all of her mother’s boyfriends did at the beginning. But it was alarming to her how this man; pushing 60, widowed, no kids, was trying to speed up the process of the nuptials.

They had met in Germany, after Lisa ended things with her last boyfriend, Carl. He had been at the airport bar the day she was supposed to board the plane. He was the reason Phoebe looked foolish at 4am in the airport arrivals, with no one to collect. They had bonded over being Colorado natives unlucky in love, though Phoebe bit her tongue knowing full well Lisa had moved to Colorado for college, originally hailing from Utah.

What Phoebe didn’t bite her tongue about was her mother’s indifference to the hell Phoebe had been put through when it came to the house. How taking out a bigger mortgage to fund her lifestyle had Phoebe struggling to pay the bills, on top of trying to control the heaps of debt the house was in. How the bank has given her a grace period to come up with the money or sell it herself, but she didn’t have the former, or the time or money for the latter.

The argument escalated, and Phoebe may have called Lisa a bad mother. And Lisa may have called Phoebe a deranged selfish brat who constantly made everything negative and ruined her life. And then Phoebe drove back to Providence Peak, sardonically wishing Ian the best and definitely telling her mother to royally fuck herself.

She couldn’t remember getting back to the house, she couldn’t remember drinking a full bottle of wine, and several shots of Scotch from a bottle tucked into the back corner of the otherwise empty pantry. She couldn’t remember grabbing the sledgehammer from the toolbox and swinging it wildly, screaming until her lungs gave out and she collapsed in a pile, sobbing uncontrollably, voice hoarse and throat raw.

When she came to, when she saw the damage that had been done, she felt the guilt and shame wash over her for what felt like a full day. She knew she couldn’t stay here, for a myriad of reasons. And she debated calling someone. Aslihan, Sage, Nadia. But she didn’t want them to see this, to show them the real her: violent, out of control. Deranged. Pathetic.

So instead, she stepped through the mess in a haze, grabbing the unpacked suitcase that stood abandoned by the door. And left it behind.

Phoebe debated getting a hotel in town, changing her mind on the off chance she’d bump into someone she’d know. Opting for a motel just outside city limits, she decided to camp out there for the remainder of her paid vacation, to just think of what to do with the mess she had made.

Her fingers were all cut and bruised. Even her face managed to get caught from the debris falling around her as she swung at the walls and the tacky furniture that sat in her living room for over 20 years. It wasn’t anything major, superficial damage at best. A scratch on her cheek that was no bigger than a dime once she scrubbed the dried blood from her face. It’d be gone by next week.

She just wished she could say the same for the loneliness and anxiety that clung to her like a spider web as she laid in the uncomfortable motel bed that night.

It ended with a morning alarm clock.

Her first day back at work. Her first day back in civilization. Her first day back at the ruins of her childhood home.

And Phoebe Yates would do what Phoebe Yates did best.

Survive.

[thecapitolprincess]

Deep city lights, girl could get lost tonight

LYAH YAZBEK. VICTOR. 59TH HUNGER GAMES.

PLAYLIST | PINTEREST | TIMELINE

Name: Lyah Yazbek

Age: 32

Gender: Cis woman, she/her

Home: Capitol, District 5

Role: Victor

Personality: Sweet, naive, gentle, gracious, trusting

Song: Girls Just Wanna Have Fun (Acoustic) - The Mayries

Faceclaim: Pinar Deniz

OVERVIEW

TW - Unhealthy family dynamic, death mention

Lyah Yazbek was born to Mahir Yazbek and Rani Shah in District 5. She is the third of 4 children. She has an older brother and older sister, Silas and Asha, and a younger brother, Ferren.

She had a relatively normal childhood and her family was close. Her father worked as a technician in the power plants and her mother worked for the grocer in town. Because both Mahir and Rani worked long hours to provide for their large family, Silas was often left in charge of the other three children while their parents were out and became something of a third parent. Despite the long days and the financial struggle, the Yazbek family was close, content with what they had and took pleasure in just being together.

As a child, she was often impulsive and clumsy, but she always had the best intentions. Generally an extrovert, she enjoyed making friends and hanging out in groups, but also valued downtime or moments with a close friend or her family. She has always gotten enjoyment from making others smile and laugh, and does what she can to brighten the day of those she loves. 

Lyah was 16 when her name was called at the reaping for the 59th Hunger Games, no one believed she was ever going to make it out. She was too sweet. Too gentle. Too small. Her family piled into the small room of the Justice Building to say their tearful farewells, and she was sent off to the Capitol. In her initial interview with Caesar Flickerman, she established her sweetheart image and did well in front of the cameras, but even her bubbly personality wasn’t enough to score her many sponsors. 

The 59th Games were set in what remained of a city from the before times. It was a ghost town with decrepit brick buildings, rusty and battered warehouses, and crumbling concrete roads being reclaimed by nature. Lyah developed dust pneumonia from constantly breathing in fine dust particles from the rubble she hid in. She ultimately won her Games when the girl from District 3 fell to her death in a fight.

When Lyah returned home, she was ready to find comfort in the arms of her family, but something had changed. They had grown cold. Distant. And instead of being greeted with open arms and tears of joy, thankful that she had made it out alive, she was met with harsh criticism. “You’ve changed.” “I don’t even recognize you.” “You’re a monster.” They had been disgusted by watching her in the games, from eating rats to fighting back against Vi, they couldn’t look at her the same way. She had survived the Games but had still lost everything.

Lyah never returned home from her victory tour. Her house in Victor’s Village was empty and cold, a perfect reflection of what her life in 5 had become after being shunned by the Yazbeks, and she preferred to keep her distance from it all. The Capitol had welcomed her, and shown her the warmth and acceptance that her family had refused. She embraced this warmth and became devoted to the Capitol. She was happy to make appearances, became well acquainted with officials, and even fell into favor with Snow. Her bright personality and loyalty made her something of a princess for them, loved by many. Because of her loyalty, she was never subjected to many of the things forced upon her fellow victors. In fact, she remains blissfully unaware that the Capitol has treated them any differently than they have her. She does not believe that the rebellion could possibly be good when the Capitol has given her everything that she had lost back in District 5.

Currently, Lyah resides in the Capitol, just as she has for the past 16 years, and is against the rebellion

The 59th Hunger Games.

Lyah knew going into the Games that she wasn’t going to be able to fight her way out of the arena, but with plenty of places to hide, she managed to make it much further than anyone had expected. She spent her days hiding in the dilapidated buildings, managing to conceal herself and the backpack she stumbled upon early on in the Games amongst the rubble and debris. At night, she would hide in the shadows as she searched for food — killing rats and other rodents, picking the edible plants she managed to identify — and a new hiding spot. 

She watched their faces flash across the sky each night with sick relief as their numbers dwindled: 24, 20, 15, 10…It wasn’t until she made it into the top 5 that she allowed herself to feel the slightest bit of hope. But it was short-lived.

Around day 10, Lyah started feeling a deep ache in her chest. By day 12, it hurt to breathe. By day 14, she knew that it had developed into something more severe, but there was nothing to do but wait. Everything changed on day 15. 

When Lyah awoke on day 15, it was mid-afternoon, and her whole body hurt. Her lungs protested with each breath, and she knew she was feverish. She still had to move. She would have to try. She had tucked herself away behind a pile of rubble on the top floor of what must have been an old office building. A significant portion of the exterior wall had fallen away, leaving something of a cliff with at least a 10-story drop. Despite her best efforts, she couldn’t find it in herself to get herself up and moving again. She was too sick, too tired. So she stayed in her corner, dozing off as she was unable to keep her eyes open.

She was violently awoken by the sound of a canon, shortly followed by a second. There was a sinking feeling as she realized it was down to the final two, and the hope she once felt was suddenly replaced with dread and fear. Lyah was going to die, and it was going to be soon. It was just a matter of whether it would be at the hands of her fellow tribute or from whatever illness had come over her. She hoped for the latter and took comfort in the fact that the tribute, whoever it may be — the boy from 2, the girl from 3, or the boy from 8 — would have to scour a whole city to find her. Surely it would be impossible. The illness would take her out first.

Except it didn’t. Two days later, Lyah was sicker and weaker than she had ever felt. She had barely managed to move, but the unmistakable sound of footsteps shot enough adrenaline into her veins to help her up. By the time she was back on her feet, Vi, the girl from, 3 had already appeared in front of her. What happens next is a blur, but Lyah manages to fight back against her opponent when she grabs her. The two claw at one another, and scramble to maintain their footing on the dusty, uneven floor. After nearly 15 minutes of struggling, Lyah is ready to give up. Her lungs are screaming and she’s exhausted, but she somehow can’t let it go. She keeps fighting, until suddenly, they’re falling. The floor had given way and they both hit the ground on the level below. Lyah sustains a broken wrist and some bruised ribs. Vi broke her neck. The cannon sounds, and Lyah is the victor of the 59th Games.

[traumasurvivorshelpingsurvivors]

First up, I wanted to thank all of you for running this blog. It’s such an important resource for as I’m sure it is to many others.

TW: Possible child abuse (emotional neglect / slight physical / overall unhealthy dynamic). LGBT-phobia. Ableism, perhaps? Mentioned disordered eating and suicidal ideation.

I’m looking for something more in the advice or reassurance vein, please? So, I come from a more traditional family: I constantly have to walk on eggshells around my dad, he and my mom rant about how LGBT is “corrupting” the world (which is so stressful for me because I’m genderfluid), my mom called me stupid for sobbing in front of her and saying I felt depressed… that type of stuff. Only last year did I realise that these aren’t healthy family traits. However, as I speak more and more with my recently-acquired mental health counselor, I’m getting unsure on if my parents are actually abusive or not. We’re practicing stuff like reframing (this mental health help is for a limited time only, though, so it’s not full-on therapy) and part of me agrees with what my counselor says, but another is angrier and insists they might be watering down my problems because of my miscommunication.

For example, I explained how my mom once told me that “family is the only you can trust” and how she “bets my friends are talking about me behind my back right now,” yet they say my mom is communicating poorly and that she’s right; friends can and will drop you, unlike family. They highlight that I’ll always see the worst in my family because my parents will come home tired from a work day and might just be stressed. Or whenever I explain stuff like my frequent skipping meals or suicidal ideation, their response is a “it happens to the best of us” and then moving on to the next topic (apart from things like that, they handle most other problems well.)

But as I’m writing this, I feel like it’s all my fault, you know? Like I’m antagonising my first and only therapist for the sake of it. Like I’m grappling onto the tiniest, pettiest moments in my life to announce “I’m an abuse victim!” and demand others pity me.

I’m sorry if this is a too long/a confusing ask, but I’d like to know whether this seems like I’m blowing it all out of proportions or if it’s justified? (If you don’t want to answer or don’t have a clear opinion, that’s completely fine! /gen)

Thank you,

— Void

Hello Void,

My sincere apologies for taking so long to reply to this - thank you so much for your kind words, we appreciate them <3

I am so sorry for the things you are experiencing, it sounds like there is a whole slew of issues and concerns to unpack, and I’m glad that there is some therapy in place already - though I hope the short term develops into something more concrete as you slowly peel back the layers. Just from the examples you shared in your ask, I personally feel you are living in an unsupportive, abusive home environment, and have unequal relationships with your friends who are dismissive of your mental health and attempts to speak your truth in vulnerable moments.

It is quite reasonable to me that you would feel anger, and several other emotions as well, surrounding all this, because you have been attempting to label, and advocate, for your needs, and (I assume) ask for the bare minimum: mutually respectful relationships. Because as much as several people keep trying to downplay what is being said/done to you, I wonder how they would feel if they were experiencing the same? Would they feel just as dismissed if they came to you sharing suicidal ideation and you replied with a “happens to the best of us?” I would feel sad if they felt this was the best standard to be found in friendships. And how would your mom feel if she were the one crying, sharing she’s depressed, and you replied by calling her “stupid”?

You have been working hard trying to see their perspective, but to me, by what you shared, they aren’t extending you the same courtesy, and you deserve mutually respectful relationships. We all do.

As for advice, I don’t think it’s as simple as “ghost everyone”, but perhaps tweaking how much you share with people whose track record is subpar at best when it comes to handling your truths of vulnerability?

Maybe an option to consider could be building your support system one step at a time - therapy is a fantastic start, because they can help work on a treatment plan with coping skills, as well as provide safe spaces to explore your feelings - but maybe also consider branching out where/how you meet people? Perhaps online groups of niche interests, or community volunteering programs, both can be a wonderful space where you might meet others on the LGBT+ spectrum who will honor your identity, and/or have connections to further mental health resources. There’s also support groups (both in person, and online) that might be an option as well?

I wouldn’t want anyone to spread themselves too thin between relationships, and potential commitments, and yet on the other hand, exploring your available options might be of service - in that the very least you can start building your own tribe, where you can let people in who are willing to extend you the same empathy and compassion you’ve been trying to do for yourself.

Regardless of what the next steps might be for you, I am so sorry for the things that have happened so far, and I hope that things improve <3

- Mod Kat