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cowboyskeletons · 5 months

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and sparrow's son loves the world so much and loves everyone around him and how can sparrow tell him that the world is cruel? how can he tell him that love will be punished and that cruelty is the only way to survive? normal's love scares him, he loves his son so much but that love scares him. he would do and has done anything for his son but he knows that it has led to his own ruin. and he loves his son but too much love has only ever harmed him and maybe he can take a model from his own dad and multitask.

maybe he can love his son but he hates him too, hates that normal can love and hates that normal can be loved and hates that normal can be so oblivious to the cruelty around him in a way that he himself lost when the world ended. he wants his son to have everything but loathes that fact that normal'll never try. that he just accepts life as it is. the way his dad did, when sparrow saluted henry and went along with the world's end and turned a blind eye to his wife's infidelity.

he sees himself in normal, maybe. maybe he hates that. because he lost himself, that day he lost his father's care and his mother's respect, and he can't bear to see himself lost again. normal needs to be cruel because otherwise he will be crushed and sparrow can't do that again. can't let himself be crushed again.

#dndads #dndads spoilers #i guess?#i'm sorry this is basically an extension of another rant i did on discord. so some points may not make complete sense but #i am so-- [wait i can't say normal fuck] regular. about the oaks #can you tell i think about them? can you tell?? did the art not convince you???#sorry if this is incoherent i am supposed to be writing an essay due in an hour but instead i wrote this.#hashtag no beta (not even myself) we die like hermie #this mainly goes off of the most recent episode and when sparrow told normal he wasn't proud. that whole interaction #yet again the point turns incomprehensible halfway though but we stay silly #also “hate” really isn't the right word for what i meant?#like the strength of the word is #but the general sentiment is just left of hate.#idk man #can't stop thinking about them #asdfdhg edit because i just. wrote the wrong name for one of the sentences. oops

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realreulbbrband · 23 days

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If they have kids with platoria?

I assume you mean this one prompt thing? If so absolutely! (Don't mind me making this pretty it's cause I'll most likely be pinning it) ૮₍ ˃ ⤙ ˂ ₎ა𓎩♨

/) /)

(｡•ㅅ•｡)〝₎₎ Basics! ✦₊ ˊ˗

. .╭∪─∪────────── ✦ ⁺.

. .┊ ◟﹫ Name: Chiffon * ੈ ♡🍮 ⸝⸝🪐 ༘ ⋆

. .┊﹒𐐪 Gender: Female

. .┊ꜝꜝ﹒General Appearance : Chiffon is an American Curl kitten, her coat is a soft blend of palish-blondes and whites; ginger and rosy markings speckle her fur, creating a warm colored coat reminiscent of a sunrise. She has longer waves of fur around her arms and legs that appear to dance with every movement. Her ears are rounded giving her a perpetually and curious look. She wears a blue (occasionally pink) pastel Chiffon fabric bow ribbon instead of a collar, and a smaller ribbon of a complementary color around her fluffy tail.

For in-show reference however, her design is inspired by pre-US Tour 6 and early Hamburg chorus Jennyanydots. I made a little moodboard If that helps :3

. .┊ ⨳゛Personality: Chiffon is an imaginative kitten who enjoys the simpler things in life. If you don’t find her socializing with any of the other kittens or eagerly helping her parents with their daily tasks, she’s most likely off trying to come up with a new ribbon dance routine. But her creativity isn’t limited to dance; she loves playing make-believe and finding articles around the junkyard that she can make fashionable. She is observant and tends to pick up on cues from her environment quickly; like her mother, she values empathy, leading her to be more mindful of the emotions of those around her. Even though she gives off the impression of being confident, she is highly sensitive to criticism and conflicts, which she frequently responds to poorly, making her feel like she's being backed into a corner. Her sensitivity, however, finds a good balance with her playful and inherently easygoing nature towards life.

. .┊ ◟ヾ Special Talents: Her Talent is ribbon dancing, which Plato and especially Victoria were happy to see her take interest in; her routines were normally quite whimsical and fun. Despite lacking technique while she was still young, she made up for in her boundless energy when performing for her parents. However, she does eventually grow to have exceptional precision and expertise in ribbon dancing.

. .┊﹒𐐪 Who they like better : It really depends on the moment. Chiffon throws around the word "favorite" depending on the day, not fully understanding its significance, normally while she's snuggling up to one of her parents. Plato and Victoria don't take it too seriously, but they do like to play-fight about who's the favorite whenever Chiffon throws around that word since it does make Chiffon happy. Regardless, they both know they're Chiffon's favorite adults in the yard, and that's plenty enough.

. .┊ ◟﹫ Who they take more after : Visually, I'd like to say a good blend of both, but since Victoria is pure white, she generally appears more like Plato, with her ginger mane and heavier markings around her coat, but her white and rose-colored markings and the careful way she carries herself make it clear she's Victoria's.

But in terms of personality, she inherits a good amount from both of them. Plato's easygoing nature and protective instincts did influence Chiffon's more empathetic demeanor, particularly when she interacts with others. From Victoria, she did inherit her innocence (which isn't as noticeable when she's young but becomes more apparent when she's older) along with her innate attraction to dance that differs from the typical jellicle, and of course the way she moves when simply walking or interacting with others is similar to Victoria's own gracefulness.

. .┊ ◟ৎ Personal Head canon: Well, any head canon I have about her just becomes canon regardless, but she really didn't adjust well to collars, much like her father; whenever she had one on, she kept tugging at it and needed long breaks of not wearing it. This didn't go on for too long, as Plato and Victoria realized she wasn't adjusting to collars comfortably, so Victoria chose an alternative, ribbons. there were plenty of spares around the junkyard, so each morning Victoria would groom her and ask her to select the ribbon she wanted for the day and tied it around her neck securely. Chiffon did enjoy this, and the spare ribbons did end up sparking her interest in ribbon dancing.

. .┊ ⋆𐙚₊˚ Face claim: Lisbeth Brittain!

╰───────────── ✦ ⁺.

I was going to reblog that prompt but then I realized I only had one "finished" kitten fankid so this is perfect! Thank you SM!!

#I'm doing these so out of order sorry #But yea talking about Chiffon outside of to myself was fun #Cats oc #Chiffon #Platoria #fanchild #Plato #Victoria #thanks again for the ask!!#seriously though I need to draw her she's very precious to me #Sorry if I wrote too much- this is technically my first time introducing her properly so It felt appropriate #Side tangent but I did design Chiffon with the intent of her being interchangeable #so she's both a Platoria kitten and a Vic x Rump kitten. (so basically #Plator!@/t3@zer depending on what I ship at the moment) Lore-wise #she's biologically Victoria and Plato's daughter but Rumpleteazer raises her along-side them in like a “cool-aunt” way if we're looking at #she even names Chiffon! Since Vic and Plato were stuck for a name for about three days. (Don't mind me censoring tags I just don't want it #popping up when ppl were looking for something else*)but yes I love chiffon very much

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brazilian-whalien52 · 10 months

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Kawi is not just shy he has social anxiety disorder (SAD).

A Quick summary of social anxiety: "A person with social anxiety disorder feels symptoms of anxiety or fear in situations where they may be scrutinized, evaluated, or judged by others"

You can see through the drama how he cares about the opinion of others. He builds his whole life over what other people think about him and, in the same way, pushes other people way and keeps a distance.

He also, in many moments, freezes in front of others. For example, when he has to sing as a first-year student in front of his classmates. Besides avoiding places or situations where he feels other people may judge him, which causes him to not have any meaningful connections in the future and regretting all the opportunity he lost. Even the work he ends up at is basically another form of isolation (he does subtitles in his home office and the contact with his boss seems to be mostly through his cellphone).

After a social situation, he tries to over analyse his "performance", looking for flaws in his interactions, blaming himself and regretting the things he said/did. Also, he tends to expect the worst possible consequences from a social interaction or negative experience, believing that any mistakes he makes will turn people against him. Basically, he doesn't allow himself to make mistakes, especially during social interactions. You can see him expressing this a lot in the firsts episodes.

Another thing that shows is that he doesn't feel comfortable eating in front of others, a usual trait in people with social anxiety disorder (observational social fears). It is also pretty common for people with SAD to develop drinking problems. Normally, they have alcohol because it's a way they can be "fun and spontaneous" around other people. However, how he was before, also shows his social anxiety. He was too afraid of drinking and getting loose around other people. That's probably why he never drank. Basically, he went to two different extremes in that matter.

Plus, people that are part of a minority group (in this case queer) are more likely to have social anxiety disorder.

#honestly i am not good with bringing prints and quotes #but i am pretty sure its obvious that this is the way he has been acting #also i kinda think it is obvious and I dont eveb need to this post but idk just feel like it #be my favorite #be my favorite the series #i mean kawi is the poster children of SAD #but some post about him make me wonder if people understand that behind his actions it was other factors playing besides his personality #also that not universal true obviously a headcanon still i basically take as canon #idk having sad myself and 60% of my friends having it too its just too easy for me to spot it #kawi #mua #if i am wrong please let me know #English is not my first language so i had to look for the terms and words in English #if i wrote anything in a offensive way please let me know so i can correct it

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softlystarstruck · 8 months

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Hi! Was curious why you left the fandom, if you don't mind sharing. Or if we can follow you somewhere else? Since you're not using this blog anymore?

short answer:

long answer: my chronic illnesses have gotten so bad and i am so sad all the time and i barely have the energy to do necessary things let alone things For Fun. and the drarry fandom feels like it moves very fast so everything about being in it (and writing in general) felt like an obligation rather than something fun so. that’s pretty much it :< you can follow my main blog @celestialbee if you want to see pictures and art that i like but that’s really all ive got right now

#yes i do miss my friends and mutuals but my brain is sludge and i feel likethe tiniest creature in the whole world so #i am not built for maintaining human connections #lots of factors to all of this but it basically boils down to i am so exhausted and drarry wasnt bringing me joy anymore #and i put a lot of expectations on myself based on how readers percieved me and my writing and the usual stuff i wrote #relentlessly writing trans content in this fandom as if iit means anything at all and instead just #burning myself out #etc etc #i do still read every ao3 comment i get though 🥺#asks

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chipistrate · 9 days

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It’s complicated but here’s the best explanation I can give about it at the moment:

There are two things that were written

1. Notes from an investigator (or NFAI)

2. Talbert Files.

Nobody knows where Talbert files came from, but NFAI is apparently inspired by the Talbert files and was turned into a fanfic.

Nobody knows if the og Talbert files is a hoax or not and the people who do know are being incredibly vague about it.

Thank you soso much- from the way people were talking about it I thought NFAI was the Talbert Files just under a new name or smthn?

Goddd this is so weird- if it is real then why even cover it up?? Fnaf twt drives me insane lmao

#Chip Chatter #I remember a few months ago when people were originally saying that Talbert Files was a fanfic and honestly I never thought I'd hear about #it again #but here we are ig #fnaf doing what it does best and being confusing in every way possible #so is Talbert files just some like lore doc that Scott wrote? I've seen a few screenshots but haven't read it for myself yet and that's #basically what it looks like 2 me

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withacapitalp · 1 year

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Here have a snippet of the next chapter for HTRAJ y'all :D I'm mid write and I'm vibin' with what I have so far

“He’s long gone, Eds. Can we go back inside now? It’s fucking freezing out here,” Gareth asked, rubbing at his bare arms and shivering as the frigid winter wind raced past them. Eddie could barely feel his own body, but he ignored both the cold and Gareth’s words, walking towards his van.

Steve was there. He had to be. He had to be, or else Eddie was going to lose his mind worrying over what was probably nothing, and he might say something incredibly stupid when they actually found Steve, and that would ruin everything they had worked so hard to build.

Luckily for Eddie’s increasingly fragile heart and mind, he spotted a familiar pair of beat up old converse poking out, attached to dark wash jeans that he instantly recognized. Eddie practically melted in relief, jogging around to the other side, needing to see Steve’s face.

He opened his mouth to spout off some stupid quip about dining and dashing, but he stopped short the second he saw Steve’s state. All of the relief instantly vanished, replaced by a bone deep dread that overtook Eddie’s entire being.

Steve was sitting on the ground, his knees pulled close to his chest and his eyes staring firmly at the pavement. He was as still as a statue and just as silent, barely even blinking as he took shallow uneven breaths. Eddie could see him shaking from where he stood, trembling like a leaf in the wind as he continued to just stare at nothing.

Something was wrong.

#tw anxiety #tw panic attack #htraj #Steve joins hellfire au #just feeling like sharing a lil bit #lmao I told myself I wouldn't and I'll probably end up deleting these tags so like #feel free not to read these I'm being a little petty #if I had a nickle #For every time someone clearly took 'inspiration' from an idea of mine and basically blatantly just did their own version #And then pretended like they had never even seen my thing or barely even knew about it #I would have two nickles #and that's not a lot #but its WILD that it happened twice #the worst part is if they had just been honest and been like hey you inspired me w x y z so I decided I wanted to write my own!#I would LOVE it #I would reblog it chat with htem be friends #Instead I feel like someone took something I worked on and cared about and tried to steal it and pretend they didn't #y'all I adore hearing when people wrote something bc I wrote a fic that inspired them it's such a compliment #This just feels #uncomfortable #ANYWAYS that's Liam's lil rant in the tags today #Again if you have a problem pls just ignore this it's literally just me needing to verbalize how not okay about this I am

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ballisters-lawyer · 8 months

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Do I write a short few chapter homoerotic sparring fic to motivate myself or do I just jump straight into “a little death” and make you guys wait a bunch until we finally get to the homoerotic sparring?

#probs gonna do the first one but then again I would be killing both birds with a singular stone if I just wrote the second option #which includes them as petty rivals for like 2 days as kids #Bal being scared of a storm and only knowing Ambrosius based on their basic and awkward interactions and running to his room for help #and then eventually in like who knows how many chapters when they are older #they do the gay fighting shit or whatever #but then again… I do need the motivation to do smth bigger #so maybe we start small?#I’m having a whole conversation with myself in the tags of this post #nimona #ambrosius goldenloin #ballister boldheart #ballister #goldenheart #ballister x ambrosius #nimona movie #todd sureblade #(he is an important tag for the ‘a little death’ fic)#(I do apolagise for that inconvenience)#maybe I should stop talking to myself and actually post this

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chilapis · 1 day

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Last post before I crash and no-one hears from me until I return from my first final the morrow’s eve (a changed man no doubt) but there’ll never be anything funnier to me than consistently being viewed as a composed and calm saviour by peers while I’m, actively and uncontrollably losing it.

#not said sarcastically or as a vent by the way I genuinely find it so terribly amusing. you think I have it together ? aw <3 you fool.#i’ve been pacing around my room like a starving lion since the past week in whatever free time i’ve had.#and i keep getting people in my messages begging me for last minute help ? which is endearing but. i’m hanging on for dear life myself #helping isn’t foreign to me; i have 4 (?) people in my class who almost exclusively refer to me as ma’am and even refer to me as a teacher.#but helping last minute is so. deeply chaotic.#and I have this issue with me where having others around me makes me immediately drop into a ‘role’ of sorts?#i’ll be freaking out but then someone else starts freaking out around me and my immediate response is to just.#hey. we are going to make it out of this. it’s easy as pie. do you see me worried? no right? <- on the verge of hyperventilating #there’s this one guy in particular who got so excited to find out we have the exact same examination set-up tomorrow.#i gave him like basic pointers and i don’t think i’ve ever been thanked so earnestly and desperately in my life.#i remember during mocks my friends would message me what I wrote in questions and then they’d immediately go oh thank Fuck.#they’d literally just act like they’re absolutely going to pass now just because we had points in common.#as if i’m some sort of fucked up correct answer sheet incarnate.#it’s genuinely really sweet to me though; like i’m not posting this ranting or such.#having so much faith in another to the point that you can put yourself completely at ease says. alot i think.#and i’m glad i can be that person for so many.#and I feel like it helps me in a way too because i become so concerned with others that I forget to drown myself in my worries.#i forget that I’m worried because there are others to care about and console and help. so i suppose they help me in a way as well.#but also who is going to be that person for ME. who is going to console ME. im going fucking neurotic /jest #<- woman with ego issues & control issues who would rather die than accept help.#sigh. oh well. I’m sure we’ll do just fine. cannot wait #🥀🍷 — colloquy.

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stickers-on-a-laptop · 1 year

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EXTREMELY CURSED IDEA: THOMAS ASTRUC WRITING A SHOW WITH INOUE TOSHIKI

#for context: thomas astruc writes miraculous ladybug.#inoue toshiki wrote the death note anime. and several toku shows i like to be frustrated about.#mr love square writing with mr WHATEVER SHAPES THOSE ARE #anyway i hate myself #miraculous ladybug is BASICALLY a kamen rider anyways #i need to edit the miraculous ladybug characters onto jetman or kiva now

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loyal-house-of-lupin · 9 days

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New Chapter out now for; Brew & Biscuit Coffee Shop

(a little snippet of the new chapter; Chapter 10)

Just as he was turning off the music, a loud noise come from outside. Confused he stopped moving and listened closely. Helped by his werewolf hearing, which was especially good tonight, he could pick out voices. It wasn't clear what exactly they were saying.

'NO! Absolutely not!' the voice was yelling so loud now that Remus barely needed his heightened senses to hear it. He hesitated for a moment. He wasn't certain if going outside and help was the best idea. Not when he was already a bit on edge, this close to the full moon. But he couldn't stand there and do nothing. That was even worse.

Just as he reached for the phone to call the police, the door of his cafe opened. He froze mid stride. Could he still reach the phone before they came in? He swallowed and moved forward. But just as he reached the phone someone walked in. Well, someone was pushed in, cursing loudly. The whole feeling in the shop shifted. From relaxation and peace, to a tense, heavy blanket. Even worse, Remus recognised the person instantly.

Sirius.

The other stumbled a bit from being pushed, finding support on one of the tables. Remus just stood there. Frozen in place, staring, heart pounding in his ears. What was going on? What was wrong? How could he help? He was about to pull out his wand when his eyes met Sirius’s. Sirius's eyes widened and were suddenly full of worry. Sirius raised his hand and waved something at him, but Remus felt himself rooted on the spot. He wasn't completely sure what the other meant, but he wasn't going to hide or let him deal with it alone.

"Stop struggling Black. You always love to come here," a second, deep and taunting voice was heard. Someone followed Sirius into the shop, wand pointed at Sirius. Someone Remus actually recognised. It was the same man that had caused trouble not too long ago. Who had been ready to fight -most likely Sirius in hindsight. There was one little glistening of hope if that was the case.

The man probably thought Remus was a Muggle.

Hell, Sirius probably thought he was a Muggle.

Good. He could use that to his advantage.

#harry potter #remus lupin #sirius black #remus x sirius #wolfstar #fanfic #ao3 #ao3 fanfic #new chapter #this chapter was actually planned #unlike basically the rest of the story #i know i wrote it myself but i'm really fond of this story

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tinyvoicejill · 10 months

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For the prompt thing I don’t think this is very vague but superpowers? (I’m back in a supercorp era I fear)

(I am too babe there’s no shame… unfortunately this is not like Supercorp at all lmao. Also some content warnings on this one for descriptions of drowning/death experiences and some general body unpleasantness?)

----

Talk of the people with gifts resembles that of boogeymen or ghosts. They’re not real things, just threats you tell your children to keep them in bed.

“Stay asleep,” they warn with a jovial tone too light for terrified children to identify. “Lest the monsters get you.”

Children grow up and stop believing in the monsters, at least in their minds. But their hearts and bodies never forget, not fully, and so when they do in fact encounter something - someone - who their minds know should not exist, they’re left with a confusing, skin crawling sensation they can never quite explain. They hate and they fear, but they don’t know why.

That’s how it’s always felt to Carson, at least.

Like they didn’t really understand where their intense dislike for her came from, just that they all feel it. It’d been like that with her mother too, growing up. People feared her, and they feared Carson along with her. Her dad had helped temper the hatred some - the gifted are always easier to tolerate around others. Like a lion in a zoo - you can sense the power they hold, but you feel protected from them. It’s when you’re caught alone with one that the primordial parts of your brain really sense the danger.

Nothing is scarier than being alone with another person: for them first, and then for Carson as a result. The safest she can be is invisible. Carson tries to stay lost in crowds or completely alone whenever possible, though crowds bring their own dangers as well. After all, the more people there are the greater the chances some future atrocity is lurking ahead for one of them. And whatever horrors lay ahead for these strangers Carson will know. Will feel.

That is her gift and curse: foresight. She feels it beneath her skin like a slithering vine whenever she’s near one of them. It whispers warnings in her bones, and its whispers grow louder the nearer they are to her or to their fate. For as long as she’s been able to tell, Carson has always known when bad things were about to happen to others. Their future anger, their terror, their demises - all of it calls out to her before they’re realized. Sometimes days ahead, sometimes hours. Sometimes seconds. She’d cry into the night as a child, pillow wrapped tight around her head, and beg her mother to make it stop. Beg her to take away the gift.

“The gift is not a part of you, my love. It is you. You can’t stop it. I’m so sorry.”

Her mother carried so much guilt for her gift, for creating her at all. Carson always figured that’s why she left them. The guilt was too much. Carson was too much. Something her mother never told her, perhaps never even realized, was that there was something Carson could do to end the devastating grief of the gift.

She could stop the bad thing from happening.

She realized as a teenager when she felt the impending assault of a classmate. When the pain felt too large to ignore and she followed its guiding pull behind the school moments before the attack. When she was able to hit the man before he could harm. Her classmate had hugged her, thanked her, and all the pain she’d felt for hours vanished. That’s when she knew the gift wasn’t a punishment. It’s a responsibility.

She’d become a small-time hero of sorts, though few knew to what degree. People in town seem to loathe her less, even if they still fear her. Their hatred is mediated by her helpfulness. Preventing horrors before they can occur does not gain the same attention as intervening during a crime can. Most of the work she does to protect people prevents them from ever even knowing they were in danger at all. It makes the pain lessen inside of her, though, and that’s enough.

Her life is small but manageable, and her heroic interventions dull the ache to a background buzz. Living in a small town keeps things easier, too: the one time she’s visited a big city she nearly fainted in the streets under the pressing pain of the thousands of lives around her just waiting to suffer or end. Lake Valley is easier, the suffering fewer and farther between. Life is tolerable. Sometimes even pleasant, if she’s lucky. She can handle it.

Then one day she wakes in the middle of the night and it’s like her soul is ripping from her body, gripping hard at her bones in its effort to stay. Her body breaks out into hives, she finds herself retching fruitlessly into the toilet. Every breath she takes feels damp, her lungs sloshing and stuttering around water that isn’t there. She’s drowning. The terror of it nearly consumes her - her fingertips feel raw like she’s been clawing at the walls to escape, her head aches like she’s bashed it against something hard. She’s felt people die before, hundreds of times, but she’s never felt it like this. Her gift screams within her body so loudly her jaw aches: Run. Go now. Find her. Save her.

Her feet are moving before her brain even tells them to do so, taking her into the kitchen until she has a knife in her hand. She didn’t mean to grab it, yet she knows she needs it. Out of her house she runs, racing down the country dirt road that takes her from her isolated cottage to the rest of town. The gift guides her till she’s on the paved road and racing across it, down the grassy hill until she sees it, there, sticking out of the water: the tail end of a compact car, its headlights shining up as it sinks.

Hurry. Save her now.

Carson splashes into the water, passively aware of the jagged rocks tearing at her skin - she hadn’t put shoes on, hadn’t had time - but all she can focus on is her grip on the door handle of the front seat. She tugs and it opens easily. The unconscious woman’s hand is still tangled around the handle on her side. She’d tried to open it, it seems, but couldn’t against the water’s pressure. The car is filled with water now, though, and the pressure is gone. If it were not for the pulsating panic exploding through Carson at the sight of her, she’d think the woman was already dead. Carson reaches around her and tugs at the seatbelt only to find it unyielding. Knife knife knife, the gift chants, and she slashes at the belt with frantic jagged swipes. Carson cuts the woman free and lets the knife fall with the sinking car. She focuses her hands on pulling her body out and away. Nausea roils in her as she drags her to shore, wave after wave of flickering pain as the woman gradually dies in her arms. Another car has pulled up she can see on the road. The taillights sinking deeper into the lake must have caught their eye, and Carson prays they are calling an ambulance now but she can’t stop to ask, not while she feels the woman die, and so instead she lays her on the grass and she presses on her chest and she breathes into her mouth and she feels a deep gnawing emptiness settling into her bones as the woman fades, and a death has never felt like this before. She’s never felt this emptiness before. And then the woman gasps out a mouthful of water and a euphoria Carson has never known floods her body. She rolls the woman onto her side as she throws up water and nearly collapses under the feel of it. Carson presses her head to the woman’s shoulder and cries. What devastation she’d felt this whole time has been flipped on its head with a rush of endorphins so powerful she trembles. Carson’s never felt joy before, not like this, not with someone else. The ambulance arrives soon after that. EMTs come to load the woman onto a stretcher and Carson stiltedly tells them what she knows. They’re not surprised to see her. Carson is often there at scenes like this, pulling people from the brink of death. They look at her like she’s something to be feared, to be respected, and all Carson can see is the woman she’s saved. She’s beautiful, Carson realizes, especially now that color is returning to her skin. Her red hair lays tangled and plastered against her face and around her oxygen mask, and all Carson wants is to brush it aside.

“We’ll take it from here, Miss Shaw,” the EMT says nervously as they begin to wheel her away, and every step they take from her pulls the ache back into her. It’s only when they’ve gotten a ways away that Carson realizes how the last few minutes of contact have felt for her. How the moment the woman came back to life, the pain of her gift went away. That’s never happened before. And now she feels that distance like a wound, and the panic sets in with it. “Wait!” she calls out as they load her onto the ambulance. “I’m coming with you.” They seem hesitant to let her but she doesn’t give them a chance, instead climbing aboard like she belongs there. Like she belongs with the woman. On instinct, she grabs the woman’s hand. Instantly the panic lessens, the pain. The world fades into just this moment, just the soft beat of a heart that had moments before been still.

“Do you know this woman?” they ask as they wrap her in a shock blanket. She’s soaked and shivering, though she hardly feels it. Yes, the gift aches within her. Yes yes yes.

“Not yet,” she says. “But I will.”

#I lost control of myself and wrote a lot lmao #I deleted my post being like 'send me prompts' because it had no notes and I was like oh damn what a flop #only to then check my inbox and see three prompts sitting there alndfoaiwefnkalef #so I may remake it but basically if you wanna send me vague non directive prompts I might write little things based on it #gretson #aloto fic #mine #my writing

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magicdonuts-supreme · 2 years

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TW: past abuse. abandonment issues. self-doubt. intrusive thoughts. self-hate statments that S/I believes but are not true. trust issues (kinda). 750+ words.

— - + - —

You had exposed yourself to your F/O. You showed them your raw, emotional, troubled self… but they were still here. Something in your mind doesn’t fit right, panic rising as it washes over the euphoria you had experienced alongside your beloved under their tender care.

Because they were there.

Why hadn’t your F/O left? Why had they stayed so long? So many had abandoned you by this point, why don’t they? Is there an endgame to this? You are a freak, a horror, a traumatized lump of human flesh… You’ll poison them… Why can’t they just see that and leave already? (Not to mention the other side of your raging mind: the one on its knees, the one that grovels and begs and dehumanizes itself into a living joke just to have another person give you a second of attention…)

Deep down, you know why the thoughts are there.

You are expecting abandonment.

Every moment your F/O welcomes you into their warm embrace oh-so cruelly, you know you’re falling further and further for them. But you can’t allow yourself to do that.

You are expecting abandonment.

So much so that you make a fool of yourself and show your most vulnerable sides to them and hope it wards your F/O off… because it’s easier to say that they left because of your actions than to wait a lifetime for them only to realize their absence is the only answer you’ll ever get.

You are expecting a—

“Love?”

You dry your tears against your shirt as discreetly as possible, red eyes darting to and fro— anywhere away from your F/O’s. “…Yeah?” You cringe at the cracks in your own voice, How dare you not be able to hide this better? How dare you burden them?

Your F/O leans closer just the tiniest bit. “Are you feeling okay?”

“I’m fine,” you say, lips pressed tight.

“C’mon, S/I, you’re underestimating me if you think I can’t notice when you’re upset.” They offer a reassuring smile, although it wavers as your guilty lack of response hangs in the still air. “… Just… I won’t force you, okay? But I know you aren’t feeling well, and that it’s not healthy to keep it all in like this.”

Your voice doesn’t disrupt the silence. A single syllable could break down the dam holding back your sobs, God, you’re a crybaby. You’re weak, pathetic.

“Hey, love, could you please look at me?”

Your line of sight wavers, yet it’s your F/O’s gentle hold and their warm gaze that attracts your own like a magnet’s fated pull.

“There you are,” they utter. “You never were, never are, and never will be a burden, S/I, I love you just as you are. This isn’t a punishment and I will never use it against you. I just want to make sure you’re alright… Like all of those times you did the same to me, ok?”

As calm and tender as they are, there are still signs of breakage in your F/O’s voice. They want to banish — perhaps even worse — whoever taught you those self-damaging beliefs in the first place, but your health comes first. When you’re tangled up in barbs of false promises and toxic love, all your F/O wishes to do is untangle you with a touch of silk and show you what warmth is like. They want to chase those swarms of bad thoughts away and kiss your forehead at night when they’re sure the only thing in your mind is soft dreams of carelessness when you finally let yourself feel safe in their arms.

Some time after their reassurances, your walls break— perhaps for the first time in front of them. Maybe it’s loud and messy whilst your F/O gathers you in their arms, or maybe your tears are silent until you succumb and press yourself against their chest.

And by the end?

“Can I ask you… something…?” You hesitate, doubt still plaguing that one place in your mind.

Your F/O places a kiss against your temple. “Always, love.”

“I mean…” Your gaze wanders off. “It’s a bit unnecessary, maybe even childish…”

“As long as it’s you? As long as you think it’s important and it matters to making you feel safe? It’ll never be unnecessary.”

“… Could you promise…?”

They nod and a small, wonderful smile graces their features. “You don’t ever have to worry about me leaving, S/I. I promise that I’ll always be here for you, that you’ll always be worth waiting for.”

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